The SMiChick

Moving

2011-06-24T01:02:00.001-04:00

Hi everyone,

I'm moving all of my content over to erinlscott.com and will no longer be updating this blog. Please come visit my new website! (It's still in progress so please excuse the default everything.)

Erin

Slightly controlled chaos

2011-06-11T15:45:00.001-04:00

So I've been absent lately. Here's an update!

I am now wheat/gluten free. Ish. It's less of a bitch to do this in 2011 than it was in 1986-2000, because LO AND BEHOLD MAYBE WE SHOULD BE ALLERGEN-AWARE. Also, East Coast vs. Midwest culture sort of makes a difference. People here try on food fads like they do shoes. The Midwest...not so much. The Jell-O obsession never left.

Why? Because wheat has been making me sick. I've been generally feeling less than optimal for several months and I'm going through my allergens, one by one, to figure out how much of what, exactly, can I eat on a daily/weekly schedule. And learning what happens if I go overboard.

So far, not eating wheat has made the biggest difference. Testing corn will be difficult, as I already know that corn syrup makes me sick, so I can't test my corn tolerance via "corn sugar" or whatever the new fancy term is that the We <3 Corn advocacy group is parading around.

I don't know that I need to be gluten free - trace and even small amounts of wheat don't seem to bother me. Neither does 1 beer (haven't tested more than one at a time yet). I will get tested for celiac disease the next time I see a doctor for something other than a sinus infection, as well as ask for a full panel of allergen tests (prick tests, blood work, etc.)

Other news... ResNet is in 6 days...There was a bat in my kitchen this morning...I stuck my foot/shoe/bottom third of my pants into a bucket of glaze at the pottery studio today while trying to seal it...Didn't check the weather before leaving the house and had to borrow an umbrella from the CAW people...

Yeah, it's turning into an interesting Saturday. Now I'm going to have a beer, rinse out my jeans, do some laundry and work on setting up the new website.

2011-05-16T01:06:00.000-04:00

I've loved and I've lost
I dreamed and I failed
We spun the dreams
On gossamer wings
And neglected essential details
And now that you're gone
And now that we're done
I'm left standing in the rubble
From the castle in the sky
Turns out the clouds are painful, crushing you if you can't fly
Fast and free
You flew without me
And that's the greatest hurt of all
That you just left me there alone
Never a second glance
We screwed up the second chance
The unexpected and unplanned, burning everything I loved
Because that's the way it always ends
With a fire in my soul
Burning
Tearing the yearnings of a young romantic girl
Who is tired of this fight
The endless quest for hope and love
Maybe that forever kind
And they tell me to wait
To be patient and true
"it will happen when it happens"
The damned consolation prize
Life is under scrutiny, can't measure up to size
I'm tired of failing
Weary of flailing
Flailing because of you

(There is a tune to this; very "into the woods"/"wicked"/"Sweeney Todd" sounding)

Highly Sensitive

2011-05-07T01:21:00.000-04:00

Something I've been doing the last couple of months is reading a lot about things that make us tick. Things that make ME tick. Yes, I'm still reading the odd potato chip for the mind (BFF Sarah's definition of romance novels and other drivel: "Sometimes, you just want a damn potato chip!"), but there's been a lot more of stuff about culture, relationships, feminism, psychology, and sociology. I've always been interested in the "why" and "how" of things, and so as I reassemble my personal life, I'm curious as to why it fell apart, and how I can prevent it and protect myself in the future. (No, I didn't have a complete nuclear meltdown, but it got icky and sticky and less than pleasant for a while.)

There are two books that I'm reading right now. One is a book on personalities within the structure of pyschology, and speaks to the theory of Highly Sensitive Personalities/People, and that's the one we're going to talk about today.

From the research that has been done on personalities, it looks like about 20% of the population (at least in the US) identify and test as being more sensitive than other. Sensitivity can be anything from a dislike of loud situations to taking criticism badly to immune issues. Usually it's a combination of sensitivities. Looking back on my childhood (or what I remember of it, because apparently I've blocked off large sections of it because I was so miserable), a lot of my problems were things that are better understood now as learning differences, food sensitivities, and possibly a suppressed immune system. HSPs are generally folks who react very strongly to certain stimuli (usually in a negative manner) and prefer things like routine, structure, and familiar settings to get through a day.

I can particularly identify with the aspects about food sensitivities, preferring a quiet atmosphere and having down time to myself. Growing up with severe food allergies that affected me primarily through brain chemistry (mood swings, headaches, migraines, extreme irrationality and irritability) makes slightly more sense now. I physically cannot be around loud noises too long, or I will become physically ill (nausea, migraine, dizziness, disorientation, and faintness are all common symptoms for me). And if I have to interact with too many people for too long of a time, I become agitated and usually develop a migraine. There's a reason I disappear for a while during family gatherings - I'm preventing myself from getting sick.

I really hate going into unfamiliar situations with no preparation. First days of anything are always a nightmare waiting to happen for me, emotionally. I usually stay quiet, preferring to watch and observe in a corner than throw myself into anything. I'm better at conquering that dislike now than I was as a kid, but it's still hard. There's this overwhelming sense of not wanting to be center stage all by myself (hence my love of choirs and not solos...), of not wanting to be noticed until I am more sure of the heirarchies and relationships that are going on around me. I fear in childhood that's what got me noticed more than anything - I was the one that didn't want to interact with people, and was weird because of it.

Conquering that sense of weirdness and awkwardness - that I don't truly fit in - is difficult. Supposedly this is a very common issue for HSPs. We don't fit the norm, but we're not different enough to be considered "cool," a la Lady Gaga. We're outliers, balanced on not really feeling as if we belong anywhere, and retreating into ourselves (or a hobby, or work, or something) as a way of protecting ourselves. In today's society, I can minimize interactions with the handy invention known as "The Headphones." I'm not anti-social, I've just got my music going and it's not cool to disturb music-going-people unless it's really important. I've lost track of how many times I've stuck my earbuds in just to avoid conversations on airplanes, busses, airports, car rides, walking around town or at work. It's a handy trick that enables me. Do I care? A bit. Will I stop? Probably not. The ability to watch and not be pointed out as a watcher is awesome.

How do you explain to people that you're different and that your different-ness is valid and should be respected and that you're not weird, you just can't handle certain stimuli? I'm not sure what the answer is, really. I've not finished the book, so I'll get to that part when I get there. From a personal standpoint, I think that confidence and self-assurance is key, and guarding your reasons is (unfortunately) a lesson that I've learned - just say "no thanks" and leave it at that. Learning to not get upset or defensive when people don't believe you in helpful, too. I don't have enough fingers and toes to count the number of times that I've felt frustrated because someone didn't understand why I wasn't going to eat some food or go to a loud environment. Acceptance is not easy for most people, especially when it comes to experiential issues. "What?! It's "so and so" live! You love them! Everyone loves them!" The subtext being "What is wrong with you that you can't enjoy this thing that everyone else does?" Yeah, I love Linkin Park, and seeing Lady Gaga in concert would be really cool, but neither of those things are ever going to happen because I will, without the shadow of a doubt, end up miserable, sick and hating whomever it is that dragged me in. When I landed free tickets to a Black Eyed Peas concert last year, I made sure to buy earplugs on the way to the concert because I knew that would be the ONLY chance I had to survive. My body was still vibrating afterwards, and not in that fun energy-of-the-crowd way. It was more of a oh-dear-god-do-we-not-know-how-to-balance-the-bass-and-have-these-people-never-heard-of-the-concept-of-overkill? sort of feeling. In my BONES. We left the concert early.

Something that I've been dealing with in introspection and conversations with my therapist is how being an HSP influences my reactions. Overall, I tend to take a lot of things personally, even when they aren't meant as such. I feel that criticisms of anything I'm involved in are critiques of me and get out of whack. We're also talking about how this has influence my reactions to all of the crap that I was dealt in November, and the less-than-optimal things that seem to keep stacking up against me. I don't entirely understand myself yet, and I don't think that I'm going to "fix" my reactions anytime soon. But it is nice to delve into and sort out WHY I have reactions and learn to better cope with the emotions that accompany Big Life Issues. Like deaths and breakups and friendships ending and relationships of many sorts.

I'm working on accepting my limitations, and having more patience with myself when I start to feel or think that these limitations are negatively impacting me. It's not my fault. It's no one's fault. It's hard, nor is it fair, to lay blame at the feet of any one person because they cannot deal with certain things. Just as we all have some food that we will not consume, for any reason other than pure starvation. (For me, that would be bugs. Things with tentacles run a very, very close second.) My mother can't drink because it makes her sick. There is no blame, there is no fault. There is simple fact and there is human dignity. It is my right to refuse things if it helps maintain my dignity, which is much easier to do if I'm not begging for someone to put a bullet through my eye because it's burning from the migraine.

Most HSPs, by the time they figure out their coping mechanisms, are in their 20s and 30s. Living as adults, fending for yourself, you learn where your boundaries are and how to accommodate yourself. Part of my accommodations include retreating to a quiet place when I start to feel overwhelmed, keeping migraine meds on hand at all times, and forcing myself through relaxation exercises when the going gets really bad. I just wish I didn't feel like I needed to do the relaxation stuff so often right now...

The Brain Hive Inside Me

2011-04-29T00:17:00.003-04:00

A thousand swirling twirling whirling thoughts are in my mind
The rapid planning, goals I'm manning, taking up my time
There's things to do and meetings too and don't forget the donuts
Where's the dog must beat the fog am I actually a grownup?
Days to plan and nights to cook and things are needing buying
Get to work and clean that shirt, house chores are multiplying

My brain is stuck in third gear as we hurtle down the highway
RPMs too high for safety, making burnout rather likely
But I can't stop, can't find the clutch and gear shift in my head
Don't know how to shut up, be myself, or even who I am
There's so much I want to see and do and maybe if I plan it
I'll have it all and be the best, with time to organize the planet

The schedule tells me I'm off track; I don't know what to do
Where do I turn, my brain it burns, cant seem to think it through
The madness grows and grabs my toes, sucking my soul in
Deadlines to meet, bosses to greet, my interest waning thin
I'm start to lose it bruise it fuse it then the music changes
From symphony to screeching frenzied damned angry violins

This is what my life is, here’s a window to my head
You don’t have to like it or even understand
But any chance of getting me means accepting who I am

Future Reference

2011-04-28T22:20:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, writing is the best therapy for me.

In the coming weeks, I'm probably going to be writing about a lot of stuff that's deeply personal. Not like a list of my sexual partners or anything obscene, obviously, but a lot of stuff that I'm still figuring out in therapy and in my head.

I need you, my readers, to remember a few things as these things come forward.

First and foremost, these are my opinions, my memories and my thoughts. They are not perfect. They are flawed and skewed; filtered through the foggy lens of childhood; aged and cracked with time. They will not be rational, they may not make sense, and if you were there for some of them, you may not agree with my interpretation. All of our memories and interpretations are fallible, yours and mine.

But they are real, for me. What happened, what I felt in my moments of memory, they are as real as anyone's memories of the past. They are valid. And they are mine. I make no apology for my thoughts. They are what they are, and nothing can change the way I have felt about certain things, especially when those feelings are associated with memories and idea who define who I am today.

I am sorry if some of these things upset you. (This is particularly aimed at my parents.) What happened, happened, and now I must shake off the mantle of the dusty past in order to claim my bright and shiny future. I cannot move ahead without confronting the demons that exist. Because we all have demons. Most of mine come in two forms: a childhood of being different and an adulthood of constant responsibility.

I am not crying for pity. I do not write for attention, nor pats on the head (which is damnably condescending, anyways, and I'll kick your condescending ass before I let you pat me on the head). I write for release. There will be drafts that don't see the light of the Internet. There will be things that I say that might make you think me stupid and insecure. But I can't let your opinions of me rule my life.

Today, I claim my birthright. I claim myself.

Reading in the 21st Century

2011-04-19T15:10:00.000-04:00

I am a child of the Millennial generation. I have seen the invention of reading tablets, tiny laptops that weigh but a few pounds, phones that are computers, capacitive touch screens, harddrives that don't need to spin up or down and external 1 terabyte harddrives that cost $70 (and I bought a 2TB external for $100. I have NO IDEA what I'm going to do with 2TB of storage, but I have it). Technology isn't prevalent. It is rampant.

Part of why I love doing what I do is because I get to play with new toys and ideas (usually on Mommy Yale's dime). About a year and a half ago my previous dept. got a Kindle to play with, and started off my love affair with e-readers. I eventually had to give it back as I moved depts, but I recently bought my own Kindle 3 in a silent auction benefiting my choir. I love the Kindle 3 just as much as I loved the Kindle 2 (plus it's lighter, which is nice). I have Calibre so that I can put my own books on it (and convert them as needed) and I have friends who I exchange files with. I haven't really tried the loaning feature yet, but we'll get there.

Something I don't understand, though, is how and why I can buy a physical book for less money than I can a digital book. Yes, there are licensing fees; of course. But when I can buy a used hardback edition of Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters for a penny + $3.99 shipping (yes, you read that right, a PENNY) while the digital version is $17, I take issue with it.

It's not that I don't want to pay for content. I just don't like paying more for content than I have to. Why should I pay $17 for a digital version when I can pay $4 for a hardcover book? Digital is the future, obviously. But my generation knows how to comparison shop. Amazon sort of just bit itself in that aspect: the hardcover book I bought was through one of their resellers.

I also am frustrated when there are books I want to read that aren't available in a digital format. I'll pay for the damn book; just release it to us! Certain books, like my crochet books, I don't want on the Kindle. I want nice big pages with color illustrations for those. But things like Harry Potter? Kindle. Please. (I do have a digital Harry Potter; I just used that as an example.)

While nothing can compare with the tactile experience of a book (am I a kinesthetic learner, so I definitely appreciate that), I have to appreciate the fact that I don't have to carry around several books at once. I remember carting around POUNDS and POUNDS of text books in high school and college, and thinking "OH DEAR HEAVENS I AM GOING TO DIE" at least once from the weight. How much does the average e-reader weigh? 8-10 ounces? Yeahhhhh... that's a huge difference.

I hope that schools get on the e-reader bandwagon. Reading all of my HUST books on a e-reader would have been SOOOOO helpful, especially now that you can do things like share comments and highlighted portions these days. It would have made citation a pain in the ass, but I have a feeling that eventually that will be addressed by the MLA, the Chicago Style people and both the APAs.

To the naysayers and people freaking out about the demise of the bookstore, I'd like to point out that history is full of these things. Let's look at the horse and cart, for example. People freaked out that cars were coming in, and protesting, and angry. And now we have an estimated 600 million cars on the road, world wide. Progress is going to keep marching on, and we have two choices: make it work for us or get left shaking our fists in its wake (and then you get people/characters like Umbridge who spout off gems like "progress for progress' sake," which was a delightful commentary by Rowling on the conservative agenda sweeping many of the political bodies across the globe, in my opinion).

Email and family management

2011-04-05T12:45:00.001-04:00

We have a slight problem in my family. Especially with the baby boomers.

Certain people like to send me email. Great! I'm glad you're thinking of me. But I really, really don't like getting chain mail/spam.

It's one thing when it's genuinely funny. One of my cousins sends me stuff fairly often, but I actually laugh at it. So it's OK; we have similar senses of humor and we will email back and forth entertaining comments about the funny. So she knows that I'm cool with her highly amusing forwards.

My grandmother, on the other hand.... Well, we've already had one discussion about how getting religious-toned pro-American military everything was a bit offensive as a humanist, pacifist and atheist. And she took it quite well, and I haven't gotten anything from her in that vein lately. But I still get stuff from her and other older family members. And it's so OBNOXIOUS.

I think the biggest issue that we are using email for different things. They are using it as an occasional communication tool that is capable of holding files, pictures, words, and ideas. I, on the other hand, am an email power user. I use my work email to communicate with hundreds of people on a daily basis. I use my personal email to stay abreast of community issues, what's going on in Facebook, what my friends are up to, to manage choir business and to inform my friends and family as to what's going on in my life. Yes, amusing and funny things make their way into both my work and personal email, but for me, email is not an optional thing that I log into occasionally. I am in my email inboxes at least 10 hours a day. I have three active email accounts, as well as specialized email aliases that forward to my personal and work accounts, the 20+ email lists that I'm on, or the separate email accounts that forward to my main accounts (such as ResNet, choir and Parker's).

On an average day, I read about 200 emails. I send at least 40, if not more. A lot of them are quick responses, that take seconds to compose and send. But I am an email power user: I use the keyboard fairly exclusively once I start working in Apple Mail, and I type FAST. Email is not some fluffy thing for me. It is an integral part of my job and responsibilities, and when someone sends me crap about The World's Biggest Hug or "RE: Love SPell - Pass it ON OR ELSE!!1!" it makes me upset. Because they've now stolen 5 seconds of my time. It's my time, dammit. It doesn't matter that it was seconds. What matters is that people are not cognizant of me and my needs. And that as family and friends, I expect more of them.

So, a plea to my older relatives: stop sending me spam. I appreciate that you think of me, really, I do. But I would rather you put the time and energy into a proper email, or even an e-card, than you hit "forward" and make me deal with something that I probably won't find that funny. If I want to look at funny pictures of cats, I know the web address of lolcats.com. If I want to listen to sappy music, I'm pretty sure that I have Frank Sinatra somewhere on in my iTunes Library. And if I wanted to read/listen/watch anything to do with conservative "values," pro-military agendas, and paranoid Republicans, I would just go to Fox News. Out of those three, the lolcats are the only ones I am mildly interested in.

In case you're wondering, I do have an email policy. I email people back politely the first time, asking them to not send me stuff. The second time I threaten to mark their address as "spam" in my email. And the third time I do. So I have no idea if a couple of family members ever try to email me. If they can't respect my (very basic) email wishes, I probably don't have much in common with them, anyways.

Official Unorthodoxy

2011-03-30T12:47:00.000-04:00

One of the largest parts of my job (and by largest I mean "Thing That Sucks Up Huge Amounts of Time") is teaching the new students how to use the equipment that we have in the program, and how to use the software that goes with it.

Last week's lesson was about the Olympus LS-10 audio recorders that we check out, and Garageband. The general plan was that I was going to provide some examples of radio interviews (a la "This American Life"), everyone would "interview" each other on any topic that they wanted, and then they would create something that was inspired by the examples in Garageband. Each finished project should be 3-5 minutes long, have audio, music, ambient noises and maybe some sound effects.

In preparation for the teaching session, I found a recorded copy of a talk that Ira Glass gave at Yale two years ago. He was specifically speaking about the role of radio in modern journalism, but a lot of what he talked about - and did during the talk - was highly relevant to the lesson that I wanted them to learn. I worked with the Yale Broadcasting department to get a copy of the talk, and then watched it a few times to pick out what I wanted to use.

I chose to just have them watch the first 20 minutes, with occasional pauses at specific points to talk about what Glass was doing in the presentation, as he used sound bites from previous programs to illustrate his points. I had them watch his body language, pay attention to his mannerisms - everything he did was deliberate and specific. We talked about the points that he was making, about journalism and storytelling. I finished that part of the program by asking them to talk about why storytelling is important in media projects, and to think about the art of it as they put together their own mini-interviews.

For the rest of the time, the students recorded short interviews with each other, loaded things up into Garageband, and answered questions about how Garageband works. Some of the answers I knew off of the top of my head, but I did a lot of Googling on the projector so that everyone could see what was going on. We then collected the interviews at the end, and the went on their merry way. They seemed to enjoy the idea of technology and creativity, and there were a lot of interesting questions that came up.

And then I listened to the interviews. Some were just OK. And some where AMAZING. But most importantly, they all GOT it. They GOT what I wanted, they appeared to be having fun when we were doing it, and they learned something in the projected amount of time that I set up.

So what was different about this lesson than others?

First, I went into it with a storytelling theme/attitude. I told them that part of good media projects includes the concept of storytelling. A good presentation includes a story. A good movie sucks you in. An article that includes a touch of human is no longer boring. Storytelling is essential. And storytelling is art. And they got excited about art and technology. Specifically, art and technology that related to their job.

Secondly, we tried something new in the examples part. We watched. We paused. I pointed out things. We discussed. We watched more. Rinse and repeat. There was a certain level of interaction that we hadn't done before, and I think that really, really helped get the ideas and points across. I took the time to speak to them as artists. We connected. It was sort of awesome.

And so, I began a dialogue with my supervisors. I asked if I could go to a conference/workshop at the end of April, on storytelling. I talked about what happened, and how I think that next year, we should have a storytelling theme. That it should be incorporated into how I teach, how they learn and think about media. That storytelling could better improve presentation skills, and liven up boring PowerPoint slides. Both my direct supervisor and her boss thought that it was a very interesting approach. And said yes.

HOLY COW. How often do we, as IT managers of students, get to try something so out of the box? It's not as often as most would like, I think. I am very, very fortunate that I work with a team of people who are usually ready to try new things and hear my ideas out, and especially lucky that my supervisors are very open-minded. I wish this was something that more higher ed institutions would do on the business end of things: try something new. You don't have to devote huge amounts of resources to a new idea to test it; the conference is only $150 or so. In the yearly budget, that's pocket change. Far too often, I think, do we fall into the category of attempting to be innovative but lacking the actual drive to try something so alien. "Let's try something new" is not the same as "Let me turn my entire teaching method on its head." It's related, like mangoes are related to poison ivy (they both carry urushiol). Some parts are sort of the same, but really there isn't that much to compare.

I'm really happy that I get to try something new and crazy at work. This is what I love: pushing boundaries, creating bridges and connections out of thin air. I just wish that I could get everyone on board the Do Crazy Things at Work Train.

o rly?

2011-03-14T15:15:00.000-04:00

Apparently le ex has jumped on the blog band wagon. And in one of his posts I am described as a "pompous, self-centered woman."

Hurray, I'm not a girl any longer! Too bad I describe him as "that idiot." Doesn't even get a sex or gender identity.

OK, so why am I reading his blog? I have no fucking clue. I must be a glutton for punishment or something.

I did refrain from posting a comment because I'm mature or something like that. But it pisses me off that he gets to say things like that. Were we not part of the same relationship and break up? Because I'm pretty sure that I'm not a pompous, self-centered bitch. I have my moments, yes. But I'm not the one who decided to make a choice that only had one result: a break up. I'm trying to be really "grown up" here and not blather ALL of the messy details to the world, but right now it's really tempting.

Don't call me names if you aren't willing to back up your ideas with facts. Don't accuse me of being something without giving the whole story. Because I have a feeling that anyone who knew ALL of the facts would tell him he's an idiot (and those that do know, tend think along those lines). Someone related to me died because someone else made a similar choice to his. And THAT is what pisses me off and makes me so angry that clench my teeth as my throat swells shut.

It was a choice. He chose to hurt me.

He made a choice, and continues to make choices, apparently, that are hurtful and shameful. But I'm making choices, too. Some are big and some are small, but all of them are weighed with my friends and family in mind. The world is so much bigger than me, and my life is not just mine. Ignoring that fact, making me feel like I don't matter is the worse thing you can do to me. And he did it. I wasn't important to him. My family wasn't important to him. We as a couple were not important to him.

But I am important to so many other people, and I know that. I have friends and family who love me and are helping me get through every dark day and are laughing right along with me during the lighter ones. I have a dog that adores me (CUDDLES!). And their choices are ones that are inclusive and loving, and I'm grateful for that every day. I'm making the choice to move on, and some days it's really, really hard. Not the "oh god I want him back" type of hard (dear sweet heavens no), but the "must release anger and pain to get back to the good vibes" type of hard.

But get there, I will. I must. Or I'll go insane. And that would totally mess up my plans for world domination.

Learning to Be A Giving Geek

2011-03-09T10:38:00.000-05:00

There was a brief period in time in my childhood where I was obsessed by pink (Yes, really, truly. You can ask my mother.). I had a pink room, and wore pink dresses and played with pink Barbies and everything was pink pink pink. I'm not sure why, but one day I woke up and decided that I hated pink and dresses and everything that was super frilly (I still liked Barbie though).

For a long time I was anti-pink. My mother tried to get me into a pink shirt for a choir thing (we all had to wear solid colored tees) and I was not. having. it. I was "into" black for a while, as much as my parents would like me (which wasn't a whole lot), and I've had blue and green clothing phases, too. Nowadays there's a lot of color, dominated by black, white, black and white, jewel tones, and definitely still a lot of green. I wear what I call Professional Geek Chic most of the time.

But it wasn't just a color shift back when I was 10 or so. It was personality shift. I became really bookish. I was the smarty pants. The know-it-all. I was fairly shy and reserved, though in high school I did finally get a group of close friends. My nickname in high school was "Hermione" (and a lot of my handles online reflect that with "BiblioHermione"). I was a nerd. Maybe even *gasp!*... a dweeb.*

In college, though, I managed to morph into the illustrious and highly sought after title of geek. I got a better grasp of how to socialize, found some of the most amazing young women to exist on the planet to be my friends**, lucked out by finding a job that introduced me to the awesomeness of computers and helping people while simultaneously providing me with a mentor and a chance for upward mobility (student manager: achievement unlocked). I found my niche. I found my footing as a confident and capable young woman, and started learning how I could be a Woman and a Geek at the same time.

One of the hardest things to learn, though, was to love and accept former self-nerd-dweeb-Erin. Acknowledging that I had things to learn to be a better person, a better RCC was sometimes hard. But with a close-knit set of friends that I met through work and my classes, I did it. (We pulled friends from work into classes. And friends from classes into work. And it all culminated in the Magical Year of 2008. That's another story, though.) Though a lot of love and support, we all learned that we had formidable skills and were Women To Be Reckoned With (Don't cross us. We will kill you with our minds. Just like River.).

One of the most valuable skills I learned, through college and continually through my job even now, is that part of being a Geek is striving to Be Awesome. (Barney Stinson fully agrees with me.) Having a very strong, self-confident personality is crucial to my Geekness. I don't take crap from people, though I've been learning lately about how to not take crap in a more polite and constructive manner. (Being belligerent doesn't work so well with people. HUH.) Learning to say "I don't know; let's find out" and being open about my knowledge levels has been important, too. Open to learning and brainstorming is equally part of the skill set that I've acquired, as has been "how to have open lines of communication" and "teaching/training people how to use things." While these skills aren't necessarily part of the standard Geek repertoire, they DO make me a very efficient, competent and capable Geeky Manager.

I've been blessed by good friends and role models, and part of me being a geek is giving that back. I'm pretty heavily involved in ResNet, Inc. I volunteer at a natural science museum, specifically working with the 5-10 age range using themed kits about anthropology and natural science (as well as photographer when they need one). I pay special attention to my student workers, making sure that they have the support and tools to grow and learn. I network like crazy for my friends. And I pay special attention to the girls, always. Women in science and tech need strong, supportive role models, and I fully intend to be one.

I am proud to be a Girl Geek. And I am proud to help make more Girl Geeks who are self-confident and strong. Because we're awesome.

*For the purposes of this post, I will be using the Great White Snark Venn Diagram of Nerd-Dork-Geek-Dweebness as my schema.

**For those of you living under rocks, I went to an all women's college. No, we did not have lesbian make out parties. We did throw awesome parties, though.

"Here we are now, entertain us!"

2011-03-06T19:43:00.000-05:00

One of the greatest things that I love about the Internet is that I can usually get access to media pretty fast. I want a movie? I can rent it on iTunes or Amazon, or sometimes watch it on instant view on Netflix. Or I can buy it from iTunes or Amazon. I can order DVDs to get in my mail box online, I can watch my favorite shows on Hulu, and older shows on Netflix. I can stream music from last.fm, Pandora and a million other places, as well as buy music from Amazon or iTunes.

But what happens when I can't find what I want? Specifically, let's consider the case of How I Met Your Mother and The Big Bang Theory.

I don't watch TV on a normal schedule. There are some weeks where I watch 0 hours. And then there are other weeks where I watch TONS. So things like Hulu and Netflix are great: I can watch what I want, when I want. Sometimes things will expire, but I get alerts and it's usually up online for a month or longer.

Now, HIMYM and BBT aren't on Hulu. They are only on CBS' website. And they only keep a single episode up for a week-ish. So when I don't have time to keep up, I'm screwed. I love both shows, but I've only seen the first two episodes of each this TV season because I have a pretty active life and don't have time to sit there and argue with CBS about being a stupid head (like they'd listen to me, anyways). So what am I to do?

Well, I can buy the season on iTunes. But I don't want to keep it. I just want to watch it once to keep current. Maybe I'll buy it on DVDs later, but I don't want to invest $60 right now on digital content. I can't rent the shows from iTunes, nor Amazon.

So let's get this straight. There isn't a free streaming service available. There isn't a renting service available. And the only way I can catch up is to pay $60 on iTunes.

Well, CBS, I am not spending 60 goddamned dollars on TV. I don't have cable because it's not necessary and I'm not going to pay through the nose for your content. I typically have a problem with people illegally downloading things, but when you make it nigh impossible for me to get reasonably priced access to content and materials, I really feel like I have very little choice in the matter. I can wait for it to come out on Netflix and get it in the mail, or I can torrent it with very few actual repercussions (statistically speaking).

Given that this is all part of a service that aims at delivering instant access to anything I want, they are failing me. I'm being told, on one hand, that I should expect to get just about anything I want with the click of a button. On the other hand, there are two rather popular shows that I can't get like that, and so I'm forced to make a decision: illegally download something or be patient with content even though I can get other, similar content in a legal manner. I'm faced with a decision that really isn't that hard.

I don't have a problem paying for content. What I do have a problem with is a system that sets me up with two choices that are both against the norm of other services offered and services advertised. When renting content becomes too difficult (and by difficult, I mean I'm LOOKING at iTunes, Hulu, Amazon and Netflix for solutions; I have accounts on each and regularly buy and watch other things from all of them), I'm going to say "Screw the system" and just download stuff.

[I won't do it on the Yale network. My current roommate works for InfoSec, I work for ITS and it would just look really bad for her to have to yell at her roommate for a DMCA violation. I don't download as a guest on other people's networks, because if something bad happens, it's not their fault and I don't want to cause problems for them. It will happen at home, on my Mac Mini, through Transmission and a throttled download/upload rate so as not to hog the bandwidth.]

I'm not a terrible, unethical person for doing this. I'm someone who's frustrated by the system. I see a workaround, and though it's not my first choice, it will get the job done and I will get what I want in the end. I understand that some people might have issues with my choices, but as I've explained, I've looked for reasonable, legal means to get what I want. They don't exist. And I'm not the only person with this issue, either. Until CBS gets its head on straight, I'm going to download and watch content at my leisure.

Things overheard in the office: Thursday Edition

2011-03-03T15:12:00.004-05:00

"You never know, you might want the goat." - coworker Jim to coworker Bryan

I'm not sure I can really even try to successfully put it into context.

Never mind, I'm still angry

2011-02-25T23:47:00.001-05:00

Today's theme definitely turned into a variation of "FUCK YOU I AM AWESOME AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT". Which is the decidedly less-then-polite way of saying that I didn't have the best day ever. And no, I don't want to talk about it.

Let's just say that I am really, really ready for life to stop being the emotional roller coaster from hell. I cannot DEAL with this. I am an emotional person - always have been and always will be so I might as well accept that fact - and us emotional people do not do well when everything is dumped on us at once. We cry. We get super sensitive. We lash out and cling and scream like banshees, all at the same time. You think it's scary being the observer? Try being the banshee.

It's not like there is an on/off switch for me. I wear my heart on my sleeve. Somedays it feels less like my heart and more like a giant target that screams "I'M RIGHT HERE, HIT ME!!" I am so.sick.of.it. And before you ask, yes, I am getting help. But the help doesn't help overnight. It's not a band aid (actually it's more like ripping one off, some days). And I'm not going figure out how to cope instantaneously. There is work. And I'm not usually one to be a slacker or unwilling to pull my weight, but I'd honestly rather bathe Parker all day than deal with some of the issues that are coming up.

But there are some things in life that you don't get a choice in, not if you want to be healthy and productive. Dealing with all of this...this sheer and utter crapshoot that my emotions have become is one of those not-so-awesome but important non-choices. And I hate that some of the control has been taken away from me. I hate not having complete ownership of myself. (I have control issues. Deal with it, because I'm tired of dealing with everything else.) I hate the feelings of loss and confusion, and the idea that other people have so much power over me - the power to turn my day from OK to awful with a few sentences or words. You can't tell me "They only have as much control as you give them." Bullshit. When your emotions are running mere centimeters below the surface, it's awfully freaking hard to not let other people affect you.

I don't want a pity party. I don't you to pat my hand and tell me that everything will ok with enough time and patience. Because it won't be. Time does not heal all things. And I suck at being patient. My life will not magically fix itself. I want people to stop looking at me like I'm crazy because I had a bad day. I have had a lot of bad days in the past 4 months, and I seriously doubt that I'm going to stop having them just because some people are uncomfortable with them.

My grandfather died. I was the driving force behind and planned my grandfather's memorial (with help from my mom and siblings). My ex-boyfriend made some very, very bad decisions and hurt me in ways that most people won't understand because I'm trying to be a mature person and respect his privacy, and because they haven't lived my life. An IT staff member from my alma mater passed away, as did my mother's accompanist. While I wasn't very close to the former, the latter and his family were good family friends. My grandmother was in the hospital this week. Other family members are dealing with things that I know are serious, and I'm worried for them. I have multiple friends in multiple states who are facing serious life decisions, and who come to me because I'm the "rational" one. In short, shit has gone down. It's still going down. And I'm dealing with it, but y'all have got to trust me when I say that I will get through it in my own way and own time.

I'm asking that you respect my anger and my hurt. They are going to be around for a while. I'll get through them, but it will be at my pace. I have to figure a lot of this out on my own terms, because I'm the one that to live with me. I love you all, but you don't get to live inside my head, and you don't have to sleep next to me at night. I do. I have to live with myself and my decisions.

(And in case anyone is thinking that now is a good time to talk to me about faith and reintroducing god into my life, and have to poor sense to bring such a subject up, I swear that you will be on the receiving end of the most terrifying conversation of your life. You will learn that I really do have the mouth of a Shakespearean sailor, among many other things. We will probably stop talking for several years after that conversation, and I will be sad to lose your friendship, but people who are insensitive idiots have no place in my life these days.)

Blank canvas

2011-02-21T22:41:00.000-05:00

I really don't know what to say right now. I have nothing profound, no words of passion to share. Today I am a little tired, physically, emotionally and mentally, and I just don't have the drive to post something that will wow your socks off.

It's not that there's nothing going on in my life. Quite the opposite, in fact. ResNet preparations are gearing up, Bass Media stuff is getting ready to try out some new ideas (can't spill the beans on that one yet, though), new BMT training is back on track (and exciting), I'm getting better at throwing on the wheel, and I'm getting ready to jump into some new planning phases for choir. I'm trying really, really hard to remain positive every day, to be grateful for each day, and to spread joy and love to those around me. I'm focusing on how much good stuff I have going on for me. Some days it's easier than others, and when I'm a little down I've got a fantastic support system to keep me going.

Nothing overly dramatic has happened lately. Well, a family friend passed away last week, but he and I were not personally that close. Yes, his loss will be felt and I'm sure that my mother will never find the perfect accompanist for 8:00am Mass at Little Flower again; it's sad and I was sad. But it's not as dramatic as other things have been.

I'm no longer a sick and wheezy walking pile of mucus. So, WOO on that part.

If you follow me on Facebook you'll know that I'm pretty pissed about Notre Dame, Republicans in charge of Congress on state and national levels and that I Stand With Planned Parenthood. I'm concerned about workers' rights in Wisconsin, and while I'm not throwing my social networking weight behind the revolutions that are happening in the Middle East right now (probably because I feel that we need our own revolution at home right now), I am certainly sympathetic to their causes and cheering them on in the background. But I'm not going to blog about that today, either.

It's not that things don't interest me. I don't think I'm depressed, either. Trust me, I have been down that road and this is not the same feeling.

It's more...I want quiet time. Time for reflection and meditative regrouping. I have been through hell and back again in the last four months, with a couple of side trips to purgatory thrown in for good measure. I think I'm at the point where I'm done with the anger and the yelling and the "FUCK YOU I AM AWESOME AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT" attitude that I had - needed to have - to get myself through some tough personal stuff. It's time for the slightly calmer, perhaps more rational Erin to come back out. Though if I turn into a pensive hippie, someone should poke me with a stick or dangle a new gadget in front of me or something.

I have been so angry for so long that letting go of the anger is strange. The anger is a normal part of the grieving process, as is letting it go. It's not that there's a void - I don't miss being angry and miserable by ANY means - it's that I'm not sure what defines me at the moment. Anger has been my constant companion for the past 4 months. It has been standing next to me from the moment I get up to the moment I fall asleep. We developed a give and take, a daily pattern. It was a both a rock to cling to and a force that propelled me forward.

I'll move forward, day by day. I'll let go and find peace in myself, bit by bit. I'll get there, step by step.

Truckin' on

2011-02-18T16:35:00.000-05:00

I'm really thankful that it's the weekend. Mostly because I've run out of underthings and need to do laundry, and what better time to do it than when the entire apt building also has the same idea?

I'm really thankful, also, for a weekend full of good food and better friends. It will be filled with sushi, pho and dim sum. It's like we're traveling through Asia. With our stomachs, and tastebuds. Which is possibly the best way to travel, ever.

We're also having fun Baroque music times. If you're in the New Haven area on Sunday night, you should come check out the American Baroque Orchestra with me. 8pm, Trinity Baptist Church on State St. Be there. Because it will be epic. I will also potentially be wearing heels, which is an event in and of itself.

Now I'm going to spend some time yelling at the PC on my desk because it's doing weird things. The summary of the yelling is "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE A MAC?"

Guilty Pleasures

2011-02-14T14:50:00.001-05:00

We have them. Late night snacks of Doritos with sour cream, fluff-filled books, reality TV shows: these are the habits and loves that we hide in shame from our friends and family. These are the things that we're not supposed to like, because they are low-brow, trashy or just plain unhealthy.

But they continue to exist, in abundance.

Today, let's expose some guilt.

I love Glee. I wasn't ever in a show choir, but I do fervently wish that I could break out in perfectly choreographed song and dance pretty much on a daily basis, complete with back up chorus of coworkers and a 5-piece band. Watching high school kids fulfill my musical fantasy is pretty awesome.

I read a lot of romance novels. I have an abundance of these little suckers from Amazon because they make a lot of them free for some reason. Don't know why; don't really care. Yes, it is essentially literary porn. As my friend Sarah once explained her minor addiction to them, "It's like a potato chip for the mind. We know that there are much healthier options out there, but damn it they taste so good."

I actually like some pop music. Britney Spears' newer stuff, Lady Gaga, some of Ke$ha's music - they have a good, heavy dance beat that I can sink into when I need energetic music to get work done. I pump out rapid-fire emails when I listen to my Trashy Pop station on Pandora like is it my JOB. (Well, it is, but you know. It's an expression.)

I will eat chocolate until I turn cocoa brown. I have ZERO control over myself when it comes to chocolate.

These are just the things that I can think of off the top of my head. I'm sure I have more. But you know what? It doesn't matter. Because these things are part of me even if you don't like them. Now, I'm going to go listen to Rhianna sing something about being an awesome girl while I wade through the 1,000+ emails that are sitting in my inbox.

Vacation

2011-02-06T18:10:00.000-05:00

On Monday I went to Florida for a couple of days at an all inclusive resort.

On Tuesday my phone was stolen. I did have a kick ass massage and body wrap, though.

On Wednesday I woke up with a cold.

On Wednesday afternoon I realized that I didn't have the camera and didn't remember having it since the second leg of the flight.

On Thursday the psoriasis on my eyelids came back and I started barking like a dog instead of talking.

On Friday I started having weird sinus pain.

On Saturday we had to change flights before they were canceled and the resort wouldn't let us stay for free (if the flight had been canceled, we would have been able to, but it wasn't going to be canceled until the second leg of the trip, thus leaving us rhetorically stranded in Charlotte, NC).

My sleep between Saturday and Sunday was the most fucked up it's ever been because I took Nyquil in an effort to get more sleep. Instead, I was plagued by paranoia-laced dreams and minor hallucinations every time I woke up. WTF was in that Nyquil?!!?

Sunday was spent with my companion and her really nice aunt and uncle who also took us to dinner on Saturday AND bought us chocolate. Gold stars, all the way.

Tomorrow will be spent at the doctor's, and hopefully reactivating the old phone so that I can use it until the new one comes in.

"You'll find someone worth it someday"

2011-01-30T08:47:00.001-05:00

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.

We're a little better now

2011-01-22T08:42:00.000-05:00

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

BACK OFF

2011-01-21T11:05:00.001-05:00

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.

OMG deliciousness (and birthday presents)

2011-01-18T21:09:00.000-05:00

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.).

The highs, the lows

2011-01-17T21:42:00.000-05:00

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.

One year older, one year bolder

2011-01-16T23:39:00.000-05:00

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

2011-01-16T00:36:00.000-05:00

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

Grateful: 365

2011-01-13T13:16:00.001-05:00

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.

Parker can't eat that, either

2011-01-11T00:06:00.002-05:00

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.

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.)
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.
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?

I can't eat that

2011-01-09T16:39:00.000-05:00

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.

Giving up, giving back

2011-01-05T17:30:00.000-05:00

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.

Tips and Tools

2011-01-04T12:53:00.001-05:00

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?

God rest ye merry evangelical busybodies...

2010-12-26T13:35:00.004-05:00

Let nothing you dismay... except for that lost little lamb who ran away from the flock kicking and screaming, who y'all keep saying things to about how she'll always be Catholic and other rather offensive bullshit.

Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day... But nevermind the fact that each and every one of said busybodies probably celebrated the birth of their "Savior" by exchanging several gifts of significant commercial value. I mean, I did, and I'm assuming that we're not so different when it comes to traditions inbred since childhood. Live by example: FAIL.

To save us all from Satan's power, when we were gone astray... You won't win me back with passive-aggressive statements. Even Satan knows that.

Oh, tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy... It would comfort me if you would respect my decisions. And it would bring me much joy if you'd actually care to ask me about why I wholehearted say "Fuck you" to organized religion and in particular the Catholic Church. I will engage in a meaningful dialogue with any one who asks for it; but I will not put up with your comments that degrade my choices any longer.

Oh, tidings of comfort and joy... I don't bother you on a daily/weekly/monthly basis about your choices. Because your faith is your comfort. And that's fine. I do reserve the right to point out the historical implications of your participation in an organized religion with a rather dubious past, but I promise to keep it tame: "Merry Christian-appropriated pagan symbolism Day" and "Happy Zombie Day!" are usually the extent of my public humiliation of you. If you'd like to see an all-out, balls-to-the-walls public blasting, please read my previous post entitled "An Open Letter to My Ex."

Go ahead. Keep pushing my buttons. Talk yourself into a hypocritical hole. I am taking names and kicking ass, and Christian Bullies are next on my list. Seeing as I can count the number of people who have asked me what happened and why I became an atheist, you have no right to judge, condemn, make pithy, snide remarks and passive-aggressive statements about my lack of religion/faith/whatever. And if you think I'm not going to call you on it, you are very mistaken.

A Christmas Wish

2010-12-24T12:24:00.004-05:00

This Christmas season, a time in which we exchange gift wishlists and focus on the material needs and wants of our friends and family, I would like to ask you a favor. Stop for 10 minutes, and send a thought or a prayer to the family of a very special young woman. Her name is Lizzy Seeberg, and she was murdered by Notre Dame.

Yes, it's a bold statement. It's an angry statement. I haven't been able to properly speak out about her story yet, because I am still so, so angry. But this Christmas, the gift I can give to her and her family is my voice.

If you Google her name, you can very easily read her story. She was sexually assaulted by a Notre Dame Football player, and 10 days later, she took her own life. Her case was not investigated by the NDPD until the Chicago Tribune blew the story out of the water with an investigative piece last month. Since then, there has been an outpouring of questions and support for Lizzy and her family. South Bend prosecutors are not following through on the case, however, and Notre Dame administration has not been cooperative in the least. To give you a taste of their attitudes, friend of mine who works at the Morris Inn on Notre Dame's campus and I were IMing as he watched a few of the higher up admins read the story in the lobby. He described the facial expressions and reactions. They were not just concerned - they were angry. They conducted hurried phone calls on their cell phones and though he couldn't hear what they said, he could pick up on tones and body language. It was not a pretty sight to behold.

Lizzy Seeberg is my Saint Mary's sister. One of the greatest aspects of Saint Mary's is that we are bonded for life, no matter what our major, class year, or personal backgrounds. We don't need to know each other; the bonds of sisterhood transcend time and space. We stand together. Lizzy needs us to stand up for her now, because she no longer can.

I've read a lot on the matter. I've read prosector's blogs and news articles, press releases and official statements. What the matter comes down to is not poor journalism on the part of the Chicago Tribune and the South Bend Tribune. It is not about about who has jurisdiction in what areas. It is not about fairness and good vs. bad investigative practices.

It is about the fact that Saint Mary's women are often treated as second class citizens on Notre Dame's campus, and that a high profile male has more respect and rights allotted to him than a female on their campus. It as about the fact that a supposedly Christian and Catholic group of people don't value a woman as a person, and that the Church is so drunk with its own patriarchal power that Lizzy's case was set up for failure from Day 1. There are good people at Notre Dame; one of them is my mentor and good friend. This is not an attack on the people of Notre Dame. This is an attack on the institution of Notre Dame. And there is a difference.

I lived on campus for all four of my years at Saint Mary's. I attended football games and parties at Notre Dame; I ate dinner with friends and hung out in their library on occasion when I needed a larger range of resources. I went to Ireland with some Notre Dame girls, and worked on the ND campus for two summers for Conference Services. I dated the occasional Domers; some of my friends are married to them (and they are very nice people). There is a very complex and strange relationship between Saint Mary's and Notre Dame, and I don't have the wherewithal to dive into it today. But what you should know is this: by and large, the attitude towards SMChicks from the general ND population is one of condescension and distrust. Men think we're easy, women think we're there to steal their men, and everyone knows that the reason we're at SMC is because we didn't get into ND.

With that attitude, I have no surprise that the ND "investigation" of Lizzy's allegations was swept under the rug, and met with closed mouths and "No comment" when outsiders started asking questions. When I first heard about Lizzy's death, and all of the conflicting information, my reaction was "There's something we don't know here. There's more. Way more." And I was right. There was a lot more than a stressed out and depressed young woman. There's a young man with a history of violence and disrespect who has not been held accountable for his actions. There's an administration who is desperately trying to cover things up as best they can. There's a president of a women's college who is interestingly siding with the ND administration to a certain extent, who is not willing to take a stand for her students at the risk of alienating her contacts and relationships with Notre Dame.

We can't fix the past. We cannot go back in time to help Lizzy in her hour of need. We already failed her on that count. But we can stand up and speak out about our experiences and perceptions of the culture clash that exists between Saint Mary's and Notre Dame. I don't know how to fix the attitudes. That's way beyond my personal abilities. But I can tell people what happened to me, and what I saw during my time.

Notre Dame is not a safe place for Saint Mary's women. I'm not even sure it's a safe place for women in general. I have found that institutions steeped in thousands of years of traditions generally aren't safe for those of us who live in the modern world, and embrace science and rational thought.

So this Christmas, regardless of your creed or faith, regardless of your background or your love or hate for Notre Dame, I ask you to send good thoughts, pray or do whatever you do. Ask the universe for the Seeberg family to be blessed with grace and strength. Pray for the lost girl who felt she had no recourse other than taking her own life. And hope beyond anything you've ever wished for that somehow, Justice will prevail. Because it looks like Justice needs a little help today with this case.

All I want for Christmas is Justice. I hope you want the same.

Peeved, as in Pet

2010-12-20T23:06:00.004-05:00

You ever have something that REALLY grinds at you? REALLY gets under your skin, until you glare at it and make scary, terrible noises?

Those things are usually called pet peeves. Linguistically, it appeared in 1919, and has its roots in peevish (ornery or ill-tempered), and the word is considered a "back-formation" (where you create a new word from an old word by removing parts of it, which may or may not change what part of speech it is. Ex. couth from uncouth, shevelled from dishevelled, burgle from burglar, etc.)

Some people know what my pet peeves are. I have several, but the number one pet peeve that manages to piss me off at least once a week is what I call "Don't you know your own email address, other Erin Scott?"

You see, there are other Erin Scotts in the world. I have accepted this terrible fact because there really wasn't much sense in bemoaning it, and killing all of those impostors would just talk so much time, you know? But it wouldn't be so bad if I didn't get their stupid email all of the time. There are about 7 other Erin Scotts for which I get emails ALL. THE. TIME. It wouldn't be a big deal, either, if it wasn't for the sheer stupidity of people who share my name. I mean, seriously? Who does not know their own email address?

Now, it could be that some of these folks just don't want to give out their actual email address. To which I say, fine, be weird like that, but keep me the hell out of it. It could also be...that.... actually I have no other ideas on why the stupid Erin Scotts out there give out my email address.

In this day and age, it is of critical importance that you have an email address. And that you check your email. And that you respond to email (hopefully in a polite and timely fashion). Somewhere in there, I'm pretty certain that you type your email address at least once. Probably when logging into your email.

I assure you, I am the only erin.scott@gmail.com. I am an early adopter: when Gmail first started coming out, and my tech friends were all OOOOH GMAIL, I said, "Hey, throw an invite my way?" And they did. And I got erin.scott@gmail.com (just like I also got Voice and Wave: as an early adopter). I tend to be on the edge of technology - not the cutting nor the bleeding edge, but I'm rollin' along, fairly in the know. With a name that's not truly unique, you have to be on the edge to get what you want.

I actually have a response written and saved as a signature in Apple Mail, so that when I get email intended to go towards Other Erin Scotts, all I have to do is hit about 3 buttons, and the original sender will receive an email that goes something like this:

I'm sorry, but you have the wrong email address for Erin Scott. Please check your records. You may wish to contact the intended recipient through other means.
Additionally, it should be noted that erin.scott@gmail.com and erinscott@gmail.com are actually the same address.

Thank you,
Erin Scott

I get a lot of "erinscott@gmail.com" mail. Obviously.

This one time, I almost had a fight with someone over email, who was seriously insistent that I was fucking with her, and trying to get out of paying extra money for a second cat in the apartment. She got the Other Erin Scotts dad involved because he was a co-signer on the lease or something, and then he started getting all up in my e-face about lying and dealing with consequences. Sir, I think you have bigger problems than me. Such as the fact that your daughter is an apparent idiot, because a) she doesn't know what her email address is and/or b) she thought that she could get away giving out false information.

I have some messages to the Other Erin Scotts out there:

To the Erin Scott in the DC area, pay your freaking landlord already.

To the Erin Scott in California, your level of interest in fitness and gyms is sort of frightening.

To the Erin Scott in Colorado: Your dad wants to talk to you.

To the Erin Scott in Australia: I know waaaaay too much about you. You are a nurse, you live possibly in Adelaide, you like gyms, and you might have a small animal? Not sure on the last tidbit.

To all of the Other Erin Scotts: GET A CLUE.

Daily Photo: Forget Me Not

2010-12-19T19:20:00.003-05:00

Family: Boraginaceae
Subfamily: Boraginoideae
Genus: Myosotis
Species: Not entirely sure.

Photo was taken on a pond in Northford, CT, early September of 2010.

"Research"

2010-12-19T17:58:00.005-05:00

I've (more or less) decided to sing "I Wonder As I Wander" for the Christmas Mass prelude. I spent some time watching/listening to YouTube videos, to get a sense of what works and doesn't work with the song.

The first hit on YouTube is of Vanessa Williams, from a TV special called "Christmas is Coming: Rob Mathes and Very Special Friends." It's, well, Very Special.

*cringe* Can I get some pancakes to go with that syrup?

Barbara Streisand has something to say on the subject of syrup, also.

Maybe we should just get a bucket in which to collect all of the syrup. To be fair, I sort of can't stand her at all/wish she would STFU already, so my opinion is definitely biased.

Next up, an Irish singer named Maureen Hegarty.

WOW. Totally different. Totally awesome. It's faster, and lighter, with an emphasis on phrasing that brings a whole new element to the song.

The Cambridge Singers sing a nice arrangement, which continues the same theme of a slightly faster tempo, and features some very pretty, lush harmonies.

Sadly, I'm not singing this with a choir, but if I were, I rather like this arrangement. I'm not sure who's it is, but it's nice.

And then, I started laughing, because stuff got crazy.

I have no idea who this poor man is, but did no one tell him that it's of Appalachian/folk origin, not operatic?

I think the next hit has my favorite title: "I Wonder As I Wander Christian Christmas songs music Gospel classic popular famous carols." WHOA I had no idea that the real song title was such a mouthful! Good thing I have YouTube to help me learn.

I can hear my choir director cringing. Seriously.

And then there's some non-traditional stuff...

OK, not what I was expecting, but you know. Whatever makes you happy.

It subsequently got freaking weird. You really only need to listen to the first 10 seconds to understand.

UM. What the HELL?!
For the record, I do recognize electronic music as its own (albeit strange) art form. It does take some skill to mix and manipulate sound through a program to result in something interesting. I just also happen to have some purist in me, which currently says "Aw HELL no" if you ask it about techno remixes of songs I like.

I'll be basing my phrasing off of Maureen Hegarty, obviously. And I've learned what NOT to do, which is equally important. For starters, I will not be inviting a techno-remix dude to help me out. I might, however, figure out how to play a dulcimer in 3 days, and accompany myself. Though I'll need to figure out how to get a lap dulcimer to stay upright while I stand.

Memo to self: call Mom. "MOM! Do we have something I can safely perch Dad's really expensive musical toy on?"

Only at Yale

2010-12-17T13:00:00.003-05:00

Some days, working in IT at Yale gives me very strange opportunities.

Today's was tuning a dulcimer for one of my coworkers, and then playing with it for a little while.

Worse things could happen, I guess!

Do you hear what I hear...?

2010-12-16T21:41:00.002-05:00

It's the whole freaking Handel's Alleluia Chorus. In my head. Because hiring is done. And I'm sending out 33 emails as you read this (or maybe it's even done!).

If I didn't have SO MUCH work to do tomorrow, I would seriously consider playing hooky and go skiing as a celebratory reward to myself. But alas, I have a backlog of work that is absolument horrible. So I'll be spending Friday working on BMEC fines and fees instead of swoosh-ing down a snow-covered hill. But I'll live. Maybe.

In other news, I've been asked to sing the prelude to the Christmas Mass that my entire family is apparently cantoring. It's the Von Scott Family Singers/Players, here to amaze you with the multi-talented children and sheer variety of creative genius. I don't really want to get into the issue of "Erin + Religion = Dramatic Familial Conversations" - I'm thinking of this as an opportunity to perform a lovely song for a group of people who will think it's just that: lovely. I'm still undecided about what I'm going to sing, but I'm leaning towards the following choices:

I Wonder As I Wander (American Appalachian)
Still, Still, Still (German/Austrian)
Entre le boeuf et l'âne gris (French)
If I could find the sheet music/full lyrics, I would attempt "Third Carol for Christmas Morning/Ye sons of men with me rejoice" which appears to maybe be an Irish carol? Unfortunately, I can't find ANYTHING, ANYWHERE, other than this thread on some random discussion site. So, if any of the singers who happen to read my blog out there also happen to have a copy of "The New Oxford Book of Carols" or O'Muirithe's book on carols and wouldn't mind me making photocopies...

I think Christmas music still is my favorite to sing. It's so pretty, and generally happy and sweet.

I can see the Finish Line...

2010-12-15T20:29:00.008-05:00

...and it's waaaaaaaaay in the distance. Le sigh.

We've wrapped up the last official day of interviews as of 4:00 today. I was scheduled to have a 4:30 interview, but they didn't show. Their loss! I have a rescheduled interview for tomorrow at 2:00 for a student who showed up at the wrong time yesterday, and who was greeted with the Eyeballs Over The Glasses Look, while I stated "You are very late." I think I might have scared the shit out of him. I've decided to be nice and let him interview, seeing as he was very apologetic at the time. He did send me a follow up email profusely thanking me for the opportunity to interview despite his mistake. Unfortunately, what he doesn't know is that unless he proves to have some mad media skills, he's not getting hired.

You see, I've already chosen my ten new hires. :-)

Using that ranking system I mentioned in my previous post, we have the following break down of scores to the left. The only way I'm hiring the last student has far less to do with his mistaken time slot and far more to do with the fact that 30% of the applicants who interviewed are currently ranked above a 4. Not ranked a 4 or above (that would be 42%), but above a 4. With stats like that, I know who I'm hiring. (There are currently 7 students who did not interview, either because they didn't show up, or didn't fill out a place on the interview schedule.)

Given what the numbers look like, I'm probably going to hire just that top 30%. I said between 10 and 12 - if I want to hire 12, I'd have to deliberate between four 4s, and I'm ~~lazy~~ efficient.

So tomorrow will not be spent deliberating painfully over a wealth of 3.5s and 4s - tomorrow will be spent catching on all million emails that I've gotten over the past few days and haven't answered because I've been interviewing students for the past 5 days/16 hours. Oh yeah, and I'm helping run a phon-a-thon, too. Did I mention that? No? Well, maybe that's a discussion for another day, seeing as it's 10:30pm, I haven't eaten dinner despite the fact that I've been cooking all evening (ParkerPants food, crock potting for tomorrow, just now getting to actual dinner).

Mmm, red sauce, cannellini beans and broccoli... tasty dindin!

Break ups according to xkcd

2010-12-13T19:06:00.004-05:00

Apparently, I should have made a line graph. Only I would have included axes. So that we could become exes. (OH LOOK I MADES A PUNNY!)

Bass Media Techs: Now Hiring!

2010-12-11T23:35:00.003-05:00

One of my responsibilities at the end of the Fall semester is to hire new student workers. We hire for the Spring, because in my previous department, we found that seniors often "checked out" for several days, if not weeks. Massive projects, senoritis, melt-downs - you name it, they had it. By having students begin their work in the Spring semester, it not only allows us to have a corp of reserves at hand for the inevitable, but we're also able to spend more time in training. By covering more material over a more relaxed period of time than say, 3 days, the students learn more, and I don't go crazy.

There are several parts to actually getting a job with my department. First, it helps to know someone that works for me. Or works for my previous department. Or know the student workers at the desk because someone is constantly using our resources. We do advertise with creative posters around campus as well, but word of mouth is consistently the main method of recruitment. I know this because on the application, I ask who told them about the job/how they found out about it. Currently, 87% of the applicants were referred to the application by another student worker. The second half of networking is recommendations: All of my current student workers and all of the students in my previous department were instructed that I would love to get feedback on the applicants they talked to. And I've gotten a decent amount of it. Personal recommendations from current student workers is, in a nutshell, a way to get on the "definitely pay attention to this application" list.

Next, they should fill out the application before its due date. I'm sitting up until midnight on a Saturday night so that I can close my application exactly when I've committed to do so. Not only do I take due dates VERY seriously, it shows me that they're willing, eager, and responsible. They probably don't procrastinate as much as other students. While this won't single-handedly land them a job, it is a plus.

Part of the application includes a weeding-out process. After I receive the applications, I email the students in batches (bcc'ing them to protect privacy), with a message that thanks them for their application and with a series of Doodle links from which they can choose their interview day/time. If they choose not to pick a time, that's their problem. With almost 40 applicants for 10-12 positions, I refuse to hold hands. Reading directions, communicating in an effective and timely manner and common courtesy are a large part of the job.

Once a timeslot is chosen, I expect the students to show up for their interviews on time. They should be dressed nicely, shake my hand before and after the interview, and make eye contact. We're not strict about dress code at the desk, but I do expect an effort to be made. Remember: ~40 applications, 10 positions. I want to be impressed, and first impressions are just as important as everyone says. Look the part, act the part, be the part.

During the interview, the best thing they can do is remain calm. If I see a student getting flustered, I'll often reassure them as best I can. I try to start the interview off with some chitchat: how are your papers/finals/projects going, when are you finished, where are you going for break; things of that nature. The second best thing that a student can do while in the interview is be honest. If they don't know the answer, that's OK. The reasons I ask all these questions is so that I know where I need to start training levels. If everyone knows the mechanics of a SLR and what the symbols mean, we're not going to spend an hour talking about physics and mechanical engineering. We'll move on to something else. The third best thing that someone can do in an interview is ask questions. (Actually, I'm tempted to move that to #1, but so many students here are scared witless by their first official job interview that I'd rather them remain calm.) Questions show me that they like to learn, and also give me some insight into how they think. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it also hired the new Bass Media Tech!

I keep notes during the interview: what are their answers to my stock questions, where did the conversation go, did they just mention keywords or did they understand what they were saying, where they lie in the hierarchy (freshman, sophomore, etc.). I like to hire younger students because they have no preconceived expectations about how they are going to interact with a job/boss and they tend to stick around longer. I like students who will not disrespect me or challenge my policies on a weekly basis, and I like students who will work for me for 2+ years. Good ROI and all that. After the interview is finished, I look over my notes, briefly discuss things with the student worker that's sitting in on the interview with me, and we rank the student on a 1 to 5 scale, with 1 being "oh dear god no" and "If I could offer them the job this very second, I would." It's capitulating on my gut reaction, because I've learned that my gut reaction is usually pretty spot on when it comes to hiring students who are engaged and self-motivated. I don't want slackers, and if I can avoid them in the first place, I will.

Interviews eventually wrap up, and then I take the rankings and lay them out. Everyone with a 5 usually gets hired. I say "usually" because I've never had more 5s than positions, but I'm only 1/3 of the way through interviews, and it could happen. After the 5s go into the "hire" pot, then come the 4s. Then the 3s. Pretty much anyone with a 1 or 2 isn't going to get hired, especially given the odds this year. Generally, about 10-15% of the applicant pool is rated with a 5. There are more 3s and 4s, which is why we do split things into a decimal categories if needed: I do have applicants rated with 3.5 and 4.25 on occasion. Usually this happens when we average the interviewers' scores out, but sometimes it's because they're right on those weird lines of uncertainty.

Emails finally go out, jobs are accepted, and non-jobbed students are politely told that we don't have space for them in the program this year (but they are welcome to apply again next year).

Finally, I sit back for 10 minutes and toast myself on a job well done! And then freak out because I've just hired 10-12 new students and there's a crap ton of work to get done before our first training day in January.

Daily Photo: Red Leaf

2010-12-04T01:05:00.003-05:00

Autumn has ended, but it was quite pretty while it was here.

An Open Letter to My Ex

2010-12-02T19:07:00.003-05:00

Dear John,

Over the past month, I've had a lot of things put on my plate. My grandfather was hospitalized and subsequently passed away. You had what you continually refer to as "The Incident," and what I refer to as "The Catalyst." We broke up. I drove over 1600 miles in 10 days, and 99% of that was by myself. I gained an inbox of 700+ emails. I generally consider myself a strong, capable person who is able to keep a civil tongue in her head through most situations.

We are now at the point where I no longer care about that civil tongue.

When we broke up on Nov. 1, I told you that I needed time and space. I had to tell you multiple times, in multiple ways, that this was it. That we were done. That you needed to go away. That you needed to go away right now. And if you didn't want to go away right now, I would stay the night at a friend's because I was incapable of sleeping in the same bed as you without doing you bodily harm. For the record, when someone says "You really don't want to have this conversation right now, because you will not like it" what they're really saying is "Shut up and leave me alone because if you don't, you won't like the results." Which, frankly, is pretty clear from the original statement.

You finally took the hint, because when I returned from dinner with my friends, you were gone. Two days later, I found an email in my inbox, that spouted such inane, defensive and pseudo-rationalizing drivel that I'm fairly certain a half-dozen of your beloved writers rolled over in their graves. I did not immediately reply, as I was now dealing with the knowledge that my grandfather had a broken pelvic bone, and that I should maybe start thinking about coming home.

The following day, I found a rather offensive email via facebook from your charming sister. While I completely understand the need to vent and talk to family and friends during a time of crisis, what I don't understand is how certain information failed to make its way to your sister, such as the fact that the relationship had essentially been on probation for a month, that my family has been personally affected by our own version of "The Incident," and that your poor decision making abilities were the reason for "The Incident"/"The Catalyst" and our subsequent breakup. Not only do you blame an innocuous inanimate third party for "The Incident," but you somehow gave your sister the impression that you were in, and I quote,"[a] devastating, heartbreaking dark place full of fear," to which she empathizes.

To which I would like to reply, very simply: Bullshit. First of all, the issues your sister is facing stem from some serious psychological and medical problems. She is getting help, though it took some serious scares and consequences to get her where she needed to be. You, on the other hand, are just an idiot. There is no excuse imaginable for what you did, and what you continue to do.

You have claimed that you wish to pursue friendship after the dust has settled. I cannot understand, then, why you continue to antagonize me to the point where I feel that I must issue deadlines, ultimatums and cold words of refusal to help you. I am indeed neutral with several exes, friends with one of them, and I helped another get a summer job mere months after we stopped dating: I am proud of these facts. I, and they, cooled off enough after the initial anger and hurt to realize that we were not meant to be, for whatever reason. We may say spiteful things in the heat of the moment, but in the end, we did not wish each other ill because we were adults.

But I am currently not inspired to cool down and look back fondly, and with a sigh, state "Well, there were good parts and bad parts, but I learned something and we're OK now." Instead, I'm prone to disparaging comments and rhetorical questioning of your judgment, both concerning "The Incident" and all of your actions following.

Most people, upon breaking up, vacate the premises and disseminate the bonds as quickly as they can. I prefer to also do it with with a modicum of tact, restraint and some goodwill thrown in for good measure. I even conveniently removed myself from my home for 20 days in the month of November. Granted, this was not because I'm that nice of a person. I am blessed to have good friends who held me when I needed it most, who asked me to stay with them so that I would not be quite so alone. One of them was recovering from a fairly serious surgery, and still had the capacity of heart to simply ask in the moments after I found out about my grandfather's passing, "Do you need to come stay the night?" It was asked without a second thought to her own physical discomfort. If that is not true friendship, I don't know what it is. On my trips to and from Indiana, the kindly parents of family friends let me stay in their spare room, to ease my burden. If that is not true charity, I don't know what that is, either.

Perhaps then, you can imagine my surprise when I came home in the middle of the month, after being completely gone from the region (much less my home) for almost 2 weeks, and I find that nothing much more, other than the bare bones you took with you on Nov. 1, is gone from the apartment. Your dirty clothing in my hamper, your shoes still jumbled up with mine, shirts still hanging in my armoire and your DVDs still in the living room. Your excuse? That you did not feel comfortable removing your belongings from the apartment while I was not there.

What did you think would happen? That I would accuse you of stealing something? Yes, you've shown poor judgment but you don't have a penchant for larceny. If you had questions about what was mine and what was yours, a compiled, emailed list would have sufficed. I was busy with my family and being in mourning while I was home in Indiana, but I still answered several emails about personal and work issues. I was actively updating facebook, so you cannot claim that you thought I was completely out of reach. We live in a very connected world, and everyone who knows me also knows that my iPhone is quite literally attached at my hip, usually in the right back pocket.

I then vacated my home for another week to pet sit for some of those wonderful friends I mentioned earlier. I'm not sure that I expressly told you that I would be hanging out with two dogs at someone else's home for a week, but again, social networking clues left behind by these mutual friends of ours would have told you that if they're in Miami, someone else is with their dog. A phone call, text or email would have also easily given you the information that I was not going to be around. I'm sure that you were busy for part of that week with all of the travel and family things that happen with Thanksgiving, as was I, but that still left you with Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday at your disposal, easily.

You did come get some of your things, albeit while I was between absences. Your reasoning of not wanting to be there alone is the complete opposite of mine. I do not wish to interact with you right now. I had thought that I had made that clear during the break up. Perhaps you're just unusually dense. Or perhaps, more disturbingly, you don't care about what I need and want right now. We all deal with grief and anger and hurt in different ways. My method includes avoiding that which hurt me for a while. That you so blatantly disregard my feelings and needs after everything I've been through in the past 33 days is proof that you do not actually want to be friends. Friends listen and offer what is needed, even if it's not completely understood.

What made that first interaction after the break up even more special was that you tried to talk to me. No, I don't mean the pleasant banalities that were politely exchanged. You ignored my refusal to "talk about things." ("Then don't.") You attempted to do a post-mortem on the relationship, as I stood there in my kitchen with a bleach bottle in one hand and a green scrubbie in the other. At first I couldn't believe that you were actually doing this while I stood holding a bottle of chemicals that could easily blind you; then, realizing that if I let this continue, we would end up in an unholy argument that would only serve to scare the wits out of my already thoroughly confused dog. And if there is one thing I cannot stand, it is the thought of causing my dog pain. So I cut you off. I told you, curtly and angrily, that you do not get a project review of relationships, and that if you wanted to do that with someone, to go see a therapist. Yes, the words were cruel and intended to hurt you. They were also intended to get you to shut the hell up.

Since then, the communications and interactions have continued to disintegrate. A month after the breakup, with two boxes of stuff still hanging out in my living room, I finally issued an ultimatum. Out by Thursday. What you don't know is that I also emailed the landlord, who offered and was fully prepared to change the locks at a moment's notice for me. I said thanks but no thanks; I only wanted him to be aware of the situation, and to help me figure out what my next legal steps were as a tenant with stuff I didn't want.

You, in turn, have issued your own ultimatum: that the couch that your father has been graciously storing for me needs to be out by Dec. 18. I can understand his/your desire to have it removed, but please note that you offered me pictures to post on craigslist, at the beginning of November. They never appeared. Now, I have an ultimatum (complete with words like "verdict" and "responsibility" that I find highly ironic) to deal with in addition to the list of crap in my life that I didn't ask for, but am dealing with as best I can.

The situation, though similar on the surface, is actually quite different and in my opinion, not quite fair. You had a month, for most of which I was not home, to remove your life from mine. I, on the other hand, went home to deal with my grandfather's death. I arranged a memorial service. I sang at my grandfather's interment. I read a poem for his friends and family at the retirement home. I reconnected with family. I held hands, I gripped a steering wheel, I asked for thoughts and prayers to be offered up on behalf of my family. I came home, sang in a concert, cooked for the concert, and have worked for my choir extensively as we work to solve serious issues. I walked dogs, taught a child to cook and played with trains and Legos. I have made Christmas gifts, cosigned on a loan for my sister, and advanced her some money to get through a rough patch right now. My life right now is consumed with the care and needs of others, in addition to my own weighty issues. What have you done in the last month? I will not sit with bated breath, because seeing Trans-Siberian Orchestra with your friend doesn't really count as a volunteer activity or a service to others.

What it all comes down to, John, is that you have always been a person who doesn't know how to look beyond your own immediate needs and comforts. You didn't volunteer anywhere until I encouraged to join the Peabody Volunteer corp with me. You didn't think to learn to cook until I practically demanded that you buy "Cooking for Dummies." You didn't know how to paint a wall or hang kitchen hardware until we did it together. You'd never been to an opera before I snagged free tickets to Live at the Met, and listening to Baroque music wasn't something you'd thought about on your own until I asked you to come to my concerts. You live a life that is incredibly stagnant and devoid of exploration outside of your comfort zone. I had to call your mother for you, to get your Passport finally completed with her address and phone number, for heaven's sake. This doesn't mean you're a terrible person. It just means that you're content to live in a small circle of experiences.

I am not like that. I never have been, and I never will be. That's why it didn't work out. "I want adventure in the great wide somewhere, I want it more than I can stand," was sung by a brunette heroine in one of my favorite fairy tales. Like Belle, it's not that I'm dissatisfied with everything all the time; it's that I refuse to settle for mediocre when I know that fantastic exists. We were not fantastic. We were nice, and cute, and.... that's about it. We learned things from each other, and unfortunately, we've also managed to learn how to hurt each other quite a bit. I'm sorry that I've said mean things and that you've felt the need to retaliate. But I'm not sorry it's over. It would have ended eventually, it just ended a lot more explosively than I ever wanted or needed it to. Catalysts tend to cause serious flash-bang chemical reactions, and that's what happened.

I write this with the knowledge that as an open letter, many, many people will have access to read and review my thoughts and words. I therefore choose my words carefully, as my potential audience includes my parents, siblings, other family members, coworkers, friends old and new, professors, and student workers.

This isn't a contest. It's a statement. It's a request for at least a temporary truce while I work on getting my life back into some semblance of order. I'm not asking for or expecting a reply. This is after all, a form of therapy for me.

I don't expect us to be friends someday in the future. I'm ok with that. I do wish you health, luck and love in your life, and your friends and family be as supportive to you in your times of need as mine have been for me.

Erin

A plea to enjoy the awkwardness

2010-12-01T23:50:00.003-05:00

There's something to be said about the awkwardness that follows a breakup. Mostly, that it sucks. And that the only thing I can do at this point to keep myself from crying all the time is to laugh at it.

There are some people to whom the explanations come easy: best friends, parents and siblings, mentors, bosses, some coworkers with parental leanings - the people who you see or talk to on a near-daily basis. They understand all of the layers, because they've been around for a lot of them as they developed. They understand your need to vent, and generally are awesome for you. They just get it.

Then there's the next level - people who hear that you've been out for near two weeks because your grandfather died, people who want to wish you well. Choir members, people on facebook, people you see at work every so often because you work in the same dept. "How've you been?" is a constant question. "The short answer is 'not so awesome.' The longer answer requires bribery in the form of sugar or alcohol," is the constant answer.

The really special conversations happen with general acquaintances. Explaining to one of the Peabody Museum volunteer coordinators, for example, that I'd no longer be taking the community kits out with le ex because, well, he's le ex. And someday we might be able to do it together again, but for now, I'd really appreciate some time and space sans le ex. Or, talking with the downstairs neighbors. Via email. Because they're borrowing some of the equipment you manage. And then they wish you, the ex and your dog a Merry Christmas (I decided to just respond with "Merry Christmas to you, too!"). Awkward turtle, much?

Another memorable moment was explaining to my younger brother why I broke up with le ex. He asked what happened, so I told him. I'm not going to lie to my brother (actually, I'd rather him learn from le ex's mistakes so that HE doesn't pull stupid shit on some unsuspecting significant other in the future). "I don't hate him, Andrew, but I'm very, very angry and hurt. I'll probably be angry for a while. Sometimes, you just can't deal with someone hurting you any more, and you have to call it quits. He made a really big mistake that I couldn't deal with then, and I can't help him with now. It doesn't make him a bad person. ...It does make him an idiot, though." Luckily, my almost-13 year-old brother seemed to have a fairly decent grasp of everything. Or maybe that's most 13-year-olds. I don't know; I try to keep my interactions with pre-teens to a minimum.

Actually, I think my favorite exchange was with my coworker, Bryan. He does magic things with Active Directory, LabStats, and Windows machines. Also, we argue. A lot. All the time, about everything. Good-naturedly, of course.
Wednesday, Nov. 3
Bryan: So what happened?
Erin: Well, I found out that my grandfather is in the hospital and then 20 minutes later I learned that le ex [insert really stupid shit that le ex pulled]. I broke up with him on Monday.
Bryan: ....Wow. I'm sorry.
Erin: I'm not.
Bryan: *stares, and then starts laughing* Wow, I guess that's one way to react.

What else can I do at this point, but laugh? I've cried so much I've given myself hiccups and headaches. I've driven so much that I get twitchy when I think about driving anything over 30 minutes. I've taken over the bed so much that.... wait, no, I like having the whole bed to myself. Nevermind that.

My point is, that even though I have these incredibly flippant answers and attitudes towards things right now - especially my breakup - is that I'm not trying to make fun of le ex (ok, well maybe a little). This is how I'm coping. When I stress, I either watch funny things to make myself laugh or try to make others laugh. Because if I'm laughing, I'm not crying. And if I'm making others laugh, they aren't feeling sorry for me. Just for that one instant, we're all OK, like nothing ever happened. And it's those little moments of OK-ness that keep me going every day.

So, just let me laugh, and laugh with me. Please. It's all I've got right now.

Hell in a Handbasket. Maybe we forgot the basket?

2010-11-20T08:32:00.003-05:00

So, I haven't updated in over a month. Here's a summary of what's happened since mid-October.

Halloween Weekend: Went to DC for the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear. It was interesting. Then did the DC Challenge with friends, which is basically a DC scavenger hunt that sends you on a 10 mile walking/running tour of the city. My legs hated me the next day.

Driving back from Halloween Weekend, specifically while I was sitting in a traffic jam: Found out from my dad that his first choice employee, who stopped the candidate hunt mid-search, was again interested in him/starting the hunt again. OY. Also, his father was in the hospital. Minor detail, maybe. Also, maybe I should start thinking about coming home in the next few weeks. In case something happens.

Then I talked to le boyfriend, and found out that he A Major Fuck Up over the weekend. (No, he didn't cheat on me. But it was bad. I'll be a nice person and not go into details.)

At this point my brain ceased most functions other than the ones that would get me safely home through New Jersey, New York and Connecticut. I stopped processing, because that would involve a major freak out.

Monday, Nov. 1: I tell boss lady that there's crap going on at home; her response is "If you need to go home, go home. It'll be OK here." Boss Lady is subsequently elevated to sainthood. Le boyfriend becomes le ex. I go to a friend's house for dinner. And wine. Oh, there was a lot of wine. And my grandfather has a broken pelvic bone.

Tuesday: Took a mental health day from work. Spent the day reading in bed with the dog.

Wednesday: Grandpa is moved to Hospice. Plans are made to leave for IN on Sunday.

Somewhere in here, le ex tries to talk to me and all I can say is things like "you don't want to talk to me right now" and give signals of "GO AWAY." Apparently I need to work on my "GO AWAY" skills.

Friday: Friend has operation, is on drugs and hilarious. Spent the evening with her and her mother. Then I get a phone call at 11:00pm from Home. Late phone calls from my mother are NOT a good thing. Grandpa passed away; we'll keep you updated on details. I stay the night with the high friend.

The next few days are still a blur in my memory. I had several awesome people who looked out for me - had me stay with them so that I wouldn't be alone, fed me, hugged me, watched stupid TV shows with me. I'm not religious, and I don't believe in fluffy god crap, but I had angels with me those days. Also, I lost some of said angels keys.

I left on Tuesday, stayed the night in Lorain with more angels in Ohio. I came home and spent time with my family, especially my grandmothers. Gma Scott needed someone, and I was happy to be there for and with her. Gma Schwerha and I have always been close, and we enjoy spending time together whenever we can.

The interment was Friday at Ft. Custer National Cemetery. We had a memorial service at the retirement home on Saturday. My sister and brother read Bible passages, I read a poem. People commented that I read nice and slow - truthfully it's because by the middle passages, I could barely speak. My father had a eulogy where he talked about Peter Pan and thinking happy thoughts, my siblings and I sang together.

During the last song I completely lost it. I stood in front of 50+ people with tears streaming down my face. And didn't care. I had lost so much that week. The only thing left I could do was cry.

Afterwards, my mother held me while I sobbed. We've had our issues over the years, but one thing I've learned since becoming less of a brat and more of an adult, is that a good mom will let you cry on her shoulder whenever you need it. Because that's what moms do. And that waterproof make up is the way to go 90% of the time, because you never know when you'll need it.

I'm very thankful that my family managed to overcome some weird emotional tug-of-wars that were going on. We all grieve differently, and I think that we all came to realize that, and at least acknowledge it if not understand. I also found out that some people were different than I had been led to believe, in some aspects. I'm now exploring a closer relationship with my cousin and I'm really excited about that.

The next couple of months are not going to be easy. Between my grandfather's passing, the breakup, and that stupid Seasonal Affective Disorder, this winter will probably be one of my roughest. But I'm a smart girl. I'm getting help. I've got friends who are amazing. I've got a really good health plan that will pay for counseling. And I'm getting one of those light therapy thingys. I'm starting to pursue some Serious(ly fun) Art Classes, to get back into the groove of things and put together a portfolio so that I can get an MFA. I'm rearranging the apartment so that it's more livable for 2 people instead of 3. I'm spending lots of cuddle time with Parker, and I'm learning to crochet. I'll get through this, one day at a time.

Daily Photo: Soldiers and Sailors Monument

2010-10-18T13:42:00.003-04:00

This is one of the figures on the Soldiers and Sailors Monument at East Rock Park in New Haven, CT. I like her book. :-)

Daily Photo: Mayflower II

2010-10-17T18:42:00.003-04:00

Le boyfriend and I went to see Plymouth Plantation and the Mayflower II on our way out of Cape Cod. That's a really, really big rope. "You and your fuckin' rope..." kept running through my mind while we were looking at it. Boondock Saints = awesome.

Daily Photo: Mini Dock

2010-10-08T08:16:00.003-04:00

At the edge of my Grandma's property, there runs a creek. I've had a love-hate relationship with that creek for my entire life: it's awesome, because ducks come and hang out up at the house from the creek (love ducks), less awesome because sometimes there are Canadian geese (freaking HATE geese), and some days, it just sucks because the water is super muddy/gross and I'm not stepping in that stuff. My cousins, Ben and Nate, have no such issue and would spend many hours of their visits hanging out in the creek, while I sat in the air conditioned house.

The neighbors have a little dock that I think I've seen a kayak/canoe tied up to maybe twice. Totally underused. But, it makes for a pretty picture.

Daily Photo: Livin' in the Heartlands

2010-09-27T16:04:00.004-04:00

Taken on my way to see my friend Sarah, in Allen County, Indiana.

They call us "Michiana" (I know, it's weird.)

2010-09-27T15:55:00.002-04:00

Coming home is always bittersweet. I'm so happy to see everyone who is here and retrace familiar steps, but the evidence for leaving rears its ugly head soon enough. Like the conservative junk that I see on the TV and read in the paper.

I spent Wednesday driving around southern Michigan, seeing my grandparents in Kalamazoo (best city name ever, if you ask me), my friend Mars and her new family in Jackson, down into South Bend to see some of my SMC family at Fiddler's Hearth, and finally back to Elkhart. I took the back ways for most of the trip - not the Toll Road or 94 - and it was well worth it. "Were I not on a schedule…" I kept thinking as I meandered through some of my favorite landscapes.

For those of you that don't know, southern Michigan is not quite like northern Indiana. It's like the magical state line somehow changes something. There are more trees and the hills start to swell here and there. As you go through the farmlands, there is a certain joy and serenity that I don't feel when driving though my section of northern Indiana.

The scenery was perfect. The corn fields are drying out, almost leeched of their green volume. The overcast sky hasn't allowed the sun to burn the mist off yet, and gray pockets hide things. Some of the trees have started to turn, peeks of yellow and red through the misty fields. The soybean crops have all turned their happy yellow gold, which is muted by the foggy mist. I am reminded me of a dancer with a translucent, teasing scarf. I am not able to see everything, which is tantalizing and comforting all at once. I want it to go on forever. Barns and farmhouses - old and new - dot the landscape near the roads just frequently enough to be picturesque. Knowing that at the end of each segment there awaits family and friends makes the drive sweeter, and less tedious.

Sadly, I was on a tight time schedule, so I didn't have the opportunity to stop and take pictures. But I promise, it was lovely.

Shutterbug: me

2010-09-10T13:14:00.009-04:00

I want to try something new. (I think might I say this a lot?)

I've been processing/tagging going through my photos lately, and I've come across some interesting facts and conclusions.

I took 2,259 photos this summer, from Memorial Day to Labor Day
It's possible that I've forgotten some.
I've been experimenting more than I realized with macro images.
I really just need to cough up the money and buy my own DSLR.
I want to make the shoulder/body strap that one of the guys at ResNet had on his camera.
I suck at processing my albums.
There's a good chance that no one will ever enjoy the majority of the pictures I take other than me (I'm not sure how I feel about that)

The last one could be largely influenced by the fact that I have no formal training in photography, and have really just approached it in my normal haphazard "let's try this" method. And also by the fact that I went on a work-cation this summer for about 10 days and took about half of the said 2k+ photos during that time. 10 days, 1000ish photos? That's a lot of picture taking. No wonder my aunt thought I was crazy.

I've also developed a deeper appreciation for what my friend and previous roommate Michelle does. Michelle's a photographer, and works in a photo lab. And I have no idea how she has the patience to process everything she does, much less choose what she thinks will sell the best and try to make a profit from the whole thing. And she shoots in film, so processing isn't sitting down with Lightroom or Aperture; there's actual chemicals involved. I mean, DAMN GIRL. (PS she's way better than me and has some awesome stuff and I wish she had a website so that I could point y'all to it and you could OOH and AHH over the amazingness).

(Michelle is also an incredibly nice person who's donated things to my choir's silent auction. And people loved that photo, too. "Oh wow, look how it GLOWS..." was pretty much the general statement of the evening.)

I thought, that since I'm all shutterbuggy, I would take a photo class this fall at the Creative Arts Workshop. 'Cause that would be nice. But ALAS! All of the photo classes I'm interested are either at weird times or are during choir. I somehow don't see my boss signing off on me taking a 10am-1pm class and I have ONE recurring event a week, and everyone wants to schedule something during the 8-10pm block. So, instead, I'm taking a ceramics class on Tuesday nights, which will be great, 'cause I haven't seriously touched clay for something like 6 years ("seriously touched" meaning I've done so with intent and purpose, as opposed to a valley girl's vacuous inflections).

BUT ANYWAYS - my spastic post-lunch endorphins and sugar levels make for interested blog posting, I'm sure...

Here is what I want to start doing: one photo a day. I'll post, you'll critique, comment, generally tell me that you love it/hate it/think I'm weird for taking pictures of it, etc. Some of them might be repeats from Facebook stuff.

This is Travis and Marilynn Uphaus. I knew her first as Mars Anater, though. We met through our jobs at SMC, and had many adventures. Including one in a canoe... Mars and Travis got married Memorial Day Weekend, and we all had a fantastic time.

That's one of my favorites. They're so happy! Just a little dodging and burning, to pop them out of the background, and some basic skin smoothing on Mars so that she didn't look so mottled.

OK, now it's time to go review the students' work schedule for next week, because I'm positive that there are a few people who are working too many hours and not playing nice...

Beginnings aren't so bad

2010-09-08T19:06:00.003-04:00

Ladies and Germs, I am having a hard time believing that it was only three days ago that I posted last. Probably because I've done about a million things since then, and have a million more to accomplish.

In the past two days at work I have:

Interviewed 4 students for a new position (we're only hiring 3)
Attended two very good "moving forward" meetings
Set up a recurring meeting to make sure that things keep moving forward
Printed out and started rehearsing this November's concert music (Handel, I love you more every time I sing something by you)
Made some important connections at work
Made some people happy
Got pwned by Final Cut Pro and a Panasonic camcorder
Written some job descriptions
Set up more interviews
Called like a million people
Emailed about 2 million people

In the next two days I will:

Learn how to successfully import video from a Panasonic HDC-TM300 into a Final Cut Pro
Interview at least 3 more job candidates
Hopefully learn how to make magical things happen in Shifts
Watch more HIMYM, Buffy and at some point, BBT
Sing. A lot. OMG I have missed choir.
Find my art supplies
Pick out something to wear at a wedding
Pick out a gift for the wedding (I'm leaning towards cash, because cash is always well-received)
Remind myself that I am not hopeless because I am neither married nor popping out kids like everyone else at home

And then it's the weekend and I have a block party and Peabody on the Road to do. And some painting. And some shelf installing.

Speaking on shelf installing, I think that The Wall in my kitchen may actually be a structural support (it doesn't sound hollow anywhere, at all, when I knock on it). Anyone know anything about installing a shelf into what I think may be solid...something?

Anniversaries: Friend or Foe?

2010-09-05T13:49:00.003-04:00

Apparently, le boyfriend and I have been dating for a year now. Truth be told, neither of us can remember when the first "date" was; there were a couple of general meet ups in very public places to test the waters before we decided that the other person was relatively normal, well-adjusted, etc. So John picked Sept. 5th out of the air about 6 months ago, and we rolled with it. When he mentioned "Hey, our anniversary is coming up" last weekend, it was kind of a "EH?" moment for me. Which we ended up laughing about, a lot, because that's what we do.

We're celebrating by John cooking his first solo meal sans help besides baked scallops. (Boy can't be a one-dish wonder for the rest of time, after all.) And with Sam Adams Octoberfest. And by hanging shelves and painting a wall or two.

Now, some may question a few things about all this. Such as: "Why aren't you going out to celebrate? Wouldn't you rather do something romantic? I don't think that stir-fry is very...sensual...." Yeah, well, we have have our reasons.

First and foremost, I happen to think that anniversaries (especially those of dating couples) aren't really that important. This isn't to say that I think you're wasting your time celebrating your marriage vows (it's your relationship, do with it as you please!); it's just not something I'm interested in. To me, the date doesn't mean much. It's just a symbol. A fairly meaningless one. One where you're expected to spend lavish amounts of money/time/thought/glitter/whatever on the other person (and vice versa), and where you'll eventually build your hopes too high and then the entire day comes crashing down into a pile of blah. And tears. Don't forget those.

Secondly, after 4 years of watching my friends go through several "He didn't remember it was our 1 week/3 month/6 month/some weird amount of time anniversary" episodes, it became pretty clear to me that a) if you're so obsessed with a stupid date, obviously your relationship is not solid and b) lower expectations = more chances for surprises. The solution to A is to not fixate on a date, and to devote that time instead to your relationship; the result of B is that something, you'll get awesome surprises!

Thirdly, John is between jobs due to the shit-tastic economy. And I'd rather spend money on things like, oh, the new giant shiny 37" LED-lit flatscreen in my living room (and John agrees).

There are so many other symbols and facts in my relationship that I'd rather celebrate and remember than the "first date." Like the fact that we drove home to Indiana together, with my crazed dog, and didn't kill each other. Or the time that we celebrated John being done with his classes by going out to eat at the fancy Italian place. Or when he was graduating with his Masters in teaching in 50 degree weather while a wind storm raged. Or the fact that John forgives me time and again for having the patience of a gnat. That he loves my dog. That we enjoy stupid shit together, like curling up together, each reading something on our Kindles. That I can come home every day to a goofy, wonderful smile. That we have private jokes about coffee filters and how we're both obsessed with Neil Patrick Harris.

Those are the things that make my relationship special and meaningful. Not some arbitrary date on a calendar. I'd rather spend time on US and not worrying about proving to the world that there's an US.

As far as I can tell, le boy is pretty content with this line of thinking. He's pretty forward-thinking and feminist-y himself. We talk about what we think and feel, and why we think and feel that way. Which is what relationships are about. Understanding. Comprehension. Sometimes, compromise. But not shallow crap like "It's our anniversary, you'd better get me some trinket."

And if you think that my attitude towards anniversaries is unconventional and sort of in the left field of feminism, ask me why "My Dream Wedding" doesn't actually have a wedding in it. (It does, however, include an open bar.)

If I was religious, I would call this a sign. (But I'm not, so I'm just calling it hilarious.)

2010-08-25T20:55:00.005-04:00

Occasionally, I'll hit the "next blog" button because it's entertaining, and I'm bored.

Tonight's foray was...well, weird. We all know that I'm a vocal person who advocates free thinking, much drinking and easy on the minking (no furs! boo!). And that I'm an atheist.

Here's the line up from this evening:

http://shaynawillis.blogspot.com/
"...it hit me that I am fortunate enough to know the ultimate Good News. Sometimes I think that all of the bad news makes us forget that we are here to share the Gospel."

That's nice. NEXT.

http://deadtheologians.blogspot.com/
"When my wife's grandfather's church started using guitars in their service, he complained that all they sang was 7-11 songs..."

Actually, that posting appealed to interest I have in music, but you know, not really much of my thing.

http://calvinistflyswatter.blogspot.com/
"[W]e have affirmed the necessary instrumental use of "means" -- the Word of God, the Gospel -- in the New Birth or Regeneration."

I didn't even try to read this one because a) OH YAY CRAZY CALVANISTS b) Oh wait they're not crazy Calvinists, but they are refuting the crazy with... more crazy. Awesome.

http://strengthsong.blogspot.com/
"I have some favorites from the living active dividing between my soul and spirit breath of Almighty God and source of my strength and my song (yeah you guessed it, THE BIBLE :) to share with everyone."

To be honest, what originally put me off was the smiley face/end parentheses combo and the phrase "living active dividing" which a) I'm pretty sure isn't grammatically correct and b) doesn't even make sense, remotely. At all. Sometimes, you'll find something that isn't correct, but still manages to make sense, you know? This one, not so much.

Also? I'm slightly weirded out at this point. Little did I know that it was about to get worse. I mean, "more special."

http://thefirstpremise.blogspot.com/

Everything about this page reminded me of why I have rejected the delusions of religion. Starting with the GIANT PICTURE OF THE DEAD MAN. Only Christians would come up with the idea to worship the murder of a man by pretending to be cannibals and thinking his zombie rising is "cool." (Have y'all not SEEN any zombie movies? Ever?) And then his bio is weird. And his facebook widget implies that he thinks he's "hip" or something. Except for the fact that his facebook profile pic of of a gator. I guess gory, terrifying death is a theme on this page.

http://grammysammy.blogspot.com/
"Yesterday was the first day of SENIOR CITIZEN LEAGUE bowling at Lincoln LANES. I went in, put on my bowling shoes and then remembered I forgot something in the car so I changed to my street shoes and went to the car and then came back and prepared to bowl. Not thinking I bowled two frames in my street shoes."

Well, the color scheme was off-putting, and the all caps is something my emailing/IMing 80-something year old Gma Scott does, too, so I can forgive that. And the bowling made me giggle. At least there's no OMG JESUS, at least.

http://farnsworthforum.blogspot.com/

Has a church in Guam. Didn't really care. Is living in PA. Didn't really care. Has a really, really boring laying/color scheme. Didn't really care.

http://yuanitasulayman.blogspot.com/
Title and Tagline: "Giving back to thee the life I owe: Redeemed and paid by the precious blood"

Again, with the death and the cannibalism...

http://apilgrimsredress.blogspot.com
"Please pray for the unreached People of the Day" with a picture of a man in somewhat traditional Afghani dress/turban.

GAH!! GAH!! EVANGELICALS!! RUN!!

It was at this point that I started asking Parker what the hell was up with blogspot's randomizer tonight, because this shit is SO NOT RANDOM.

http://hughofcluny.blogspot.com/
"A Society located in Connecticut, dedicated to promoting the Traditional Mass in accordance with the Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum."

I don't even know what that means, but I think I recognize "Connecticut" and "Traditional Mass." Are y'all bringin' back the Latin? (PS, further reading down the blog talks about Chant Camp. I'm simultaneously scared and jealous. If it's more Slavic chant, I'm so there. But only if Mark is directing.)

http://thehambrickfamily.blogspot.com/
Tagline: Faith, Family, Frugality, and Life on the Farm

For fun phonics, find the phone. Or something. I started laughing so hard at this point, because of the sheer absurdity of the last 10 minutes. Jesus blogs coming up left and right? OK blogspot/blogger, I'm dyin' of laughter here, but really. I mean. REALLY.

Tell you what, blogspot/blogger. If the next "random" one is in the same vein as everything else, I get to lounge here and watch a movie. If it's back to normal, I'll go clean the kitchen. Deal?

http://abidingfaithourjourneyofreallearning.blogspot.com/
"A homeschooling journey through faith" text is superimposed over poppies that have CLEARLY been poached from the National Geographic website (copyright stuff on the bottom is sort of a giveaway).

This one wins the award for "Longest blog title reflected in the URL ever" award. And I get to watch a movie. I'm thinking Eddie Izzard, to continue my irreverence. Maybe I'll work on an entry for Bottles on a Budget, while I'm at it.

Meh.

2010-08-16T14:18:00.003-04:00

Welp, it's official. My old boss emailed the kiddles today, which I guess means that I can make a big announcement about it myself.

I no longer work for Yale's Student Technology Collaborative. I am now working for Academic Computing Resources (which used to be Academic Computing Services, which used to be Cluster Support), as the Asst Manager of Student Support. From what I've been told, the Power That Be (PTB) decided to have a reorg of ITS, and that STC was going to be categorized as Client Support. The media program really isn't support, it's more of a resource. So the media program would be moved, as well as its student workers, and me (rather than training an entirely new person to work with the program that I've been uber involved with for the last year). I've known about this since late June, and I have one giant impression of the whole thing.

Yale is going corporate. And it sucks.
(Ok, I guess that's actually one impression and one opinion, but whatever.)

To be brutally honest, the whole thing was handled poorly. I do not appreciate being told that a major, sudden, painful transition is going to take place on the last day of the ResNet Symposium, before my 4 days of vacation with my aunt and uncle and cousin, the latter two whom I've not seen for something like 6 years. I don't appreciate that this shit was pulled right before school started, leaving STC sans a much needed pair of hands for Fall Training and the Freshman Invasion. Yeah, I get WHY it was done, and it all objectively makes sense, but you know what?

It still sucks. And I still feel like crying after reading my old boss' email to the students today. But I'm gonna pull it together (for about the millionth time), pull on the Big Girl Pants, and go learn some more stuff on Lynda.com about Final Cut Pro Studio 7. Because I can't change what the PTB thinks or does. I can only control how I react and how I go on from here.

So let's make the most of this. Let's do this. Let's start a new journey. I have a LOT to learn about media and editors and all the fun gadgets that come with it. I'll have new Clusters-ish responsibilities soon enough, besides the Bass Media stuff, so I might as well embrace the challenges I've been handed.

Meanwhile, I'm planning on drinking plum-basil-vodka smoothies tonight while picking out a TV online, so if anyone would like to ~~commiserate~~ hang out later tonight, you know how to get a hold of me. Nothing salves a wound like booze and new toys.

The best defense is a good offense

2010-08-05T14:53:00.004-04:00

I have an offensive kitchen. (And The Landlord isn't far behind.)

Boxes, boxes, everywhere!

It has 2 upper cabinets, 4 lower cabinets and one large "under the sink" space. And four drawers.

Dude, seriously, there's half of my storage/organization space. RIGHT THERE.

Then there's the issue of The Wall.

Yes, this wall.

Now, walls themselves don't bother me. It's when walls are in weird places and serve only to take up space that would be better used as say, cabinets and counter space, that I get upset.

Seriously, WHERE am I supposed to work in this kitchen?

So I asked The Landlord if I could put some shelves on The Wall, a cabinet being a poor idea due to the fact that the floor is slanted and Parker's ball likes to move in mysterious patterns over it. (I think that the floor should have been leveled when the kitchen was being remodeled, but hey, what do I know? I just sit at a computer all day, right?) I also asked if I could stencil a border at the top of the walls, for some color. This border, to be exact. And, oh yeah, I said that we wanted to install a pots-and-pans rack above the stove. (You caught the "we need storage solutions!" vibe? Good.)

The Landlord says that he thinks that the shelving would make the kitchen too crowded. But if I really feel that I need the shelving, as long as I patch'n'paint over it, he doesn't care. And that we shouldn't repaint the whole kitchen because he just had that done. And ps, you guys have a lot of stuff, and should maybe consider getting rid of some of it. (He did not mention the pots-and-pans rack.)

In my email, I stated that a) I would patch'n'paint as needed when we moved out, b) that we really need more storage space and c) that it was a border I wanted to paint. I did not ask for c) his opinion on how cluttered the kitchen would look or d) how cluttered the rest of the apartment is. He tried to temper it with some statement about a fatherly opinion. But let's get a few things straight here.

We have a business arrangement. I ask questions, and I want answers. I do not need - nor desire - long rambling statements that have very little to do with the answer I actually need. It was a seriously weird, rambling answer.

We do not have a familial relationship. Nor are we friends. When I want someone's opinion on something, I ask. (Really, I do. I ask lots of people for lots of opinions, all the time.) If I wanted "fatherly advice," I would call my dad. Or Le Boyfriend's dad. Or any number of my uncles. Or some of my friends' dads. I would not ask my landlord.

Unfortunately, I have this weird desire for people in positions of authority to all see me as a happy, perky, pleasant person, so I'll never write and send something as passive aggressive as the following faux-mail, but my Midwestern soul burns with the fire of a thousand suns and wishes it could.

Dear Landlord,

It's my opinion that sometimes, you're bat-shit insane and can't plan anything in a timely manner. Please refer to the fiasco that was refinishing the two bathrooms on State St and the fact that my kitchen wasn't completely operable until Tuesday. Also, the rest of my floors could use a refinishing, and we'd all appreciate it if you'd stop referring to Caesar as "my Mexican." He is not "yours" and do you even know if he's actually from Mexico? We have a lot of Ecuadorians around here, you know. I'm just saying this as a culturally sensitive member of society, so try not to take it too personally.

Love,
Us

PS, Most of the boxes in the living room are BOOKS. Because I READ a LOT and have an education in the liberal arts and we like to compulsively keep our books. And I have several boxes of winter stuff, because the stupid state of Connecticut is going through some ridiculous schizophrenic stage where the winters are make-your-boobs-hurt cold and summers are in the please-everyone-I-know-it's-hot-but-no-one-wants-to-see-that-much-skin category. So, yeah, I have a lot of clothes, I know, but it's not really your problem. I also play two instruments and sing, which is why there's so much music stuff. I'm so sorry that I'm a person of diverse talents.

PPS, You didn't tell me that one of the downstairs neighbors is an infant. Would have been nice to know before I started banging on shit when we moved in. Some of us try to be considerate neighbors, which is easier when we know what's going on. Just sayin'.

Home Sweet Home?

2010-08-02T14:11:00.001-04:00

We have too much shit.

We are never moving again. We will grow old and die on Pleasant St.

The previous tenants had terrible taste. My landlord can't get anything done on time.

I have no patience, can't explain the diagrams in my head, and should never have children.

John can't prioritize the well-being of a toddler (aka Parker) and should never have children.

These are the revelations that Le Boyfriend and I have reached in the past 48 hours. Yet, we've managed to not kill each other, the landlord, or Parker, we've gotten just about everything into the apt and approximately the right room, and we even wrestled a mattress up the stairs. "It's like the door gave birth to the mattress - squishing, resizing, pushing, pulling..." we commented when we finally got it up the 2 flights of Stairs from Hell and into the kitchen.

It's a good thing we know how to have a spat and move on. It's also a good thing that we only have a full-sized bed and not a queen.

I've been moving around in a sea of boxes, and I look around and have a 30-second panic attack. omgtherearesomanyboxeswherethehellarewegoingtoputallthisstuff? is the usual thought process. Occasionally it's also something like holyshitwedidit or where'sthedog? (Parker has a tendency to hide when he doesn't like what's going on.)

Here, let's review some of the panic-inducing views from my apartment....

This is my kitchen. It doesn't look so bad, does it?

Well, you should know that the counter on the right hand side isn't attached to the cabinets, I'm going to have to loop a power cord from behind the metal shelving in the middle over the door, behind the stove, and up the wall so that I'll have a power outlet where I'll actually do a lot of the food prep.

This is our living room. Ooooh yeah, there's the first million of the boxes.

This room is filled with expensive electronic equipment and musical instruments. But not the Mac Mini or the 1TB HDD yet. Those are living at the office until the contractors are officially, finally, absolutely finished. Because I didn't spend $700 on shiny shit for some guy to steal it. I'm sure he's perfectly trustworthy, but I'm not taking any chances.

This would be the bedroom. Part two of the million boxes. And Parker.

Parker would be that black blob on the bed. He's not thrilled with this moving thing. "Moooooom, just hold me all day!!" is pretty much all he says right now. That, and "What's that new smell?" The weird door in the middle of the wall is the door to the fire escape. Yeah, I have a fire escape attached to my bedroom. Yay.
(Note: I did some unpacking post pictures, and I'm pleased to report that 3 of the boxes are gone. And the bed is now made, Mom.)

Now we leave my bedroom and go towards the small hallway that runs between the pantry/office, kitchen, bathroom and ends at my bedroom.

There be boxes in the pantry.

Looooots of boxes.

And dog food. Parker's gotta eat, too! Also, I am lobbying that we get rid of the ugly blue 1982 lamp. Don't get me started on the lava lamp....

Welcome to the Only Room That Is Done:
The Bathroom

At least I can shower and attend to all of my bodily needs in peace and the knowledge that SOMETHING has been put to rights. Coordinating colors make my little OCD heart very happy.

So, that's the grand tour of the Kurzawa-Scott-(Corona) residence. No pictures of Adriana's room, since it's her room and not mine. When she leaves in the winter, I think the general idea is to put the living room in her room, and turn that room into a guest room/storage place.

Moving: Day Million

2010-07-31T01:16:00.003-04:00

I would just like to state, loud and clear, that moving sucks ass and I'm never doing it again. We're going to live in 41 Pleasant St. until the day we die.

HUGE thank yous go out to:
John, for his never-ending patience with me
Heather, Assistant Packer, Chief Direction Giver and Bringer of Sushi
Roommate Michelle, Chief State St. Dog Comforter
"Grandpa" Dave, Friday Dog Watcher
Chris and Mara, Saturday Dog Watchers
John, for not killing me yet (I am NOT the easiest person to deal with when moving)
Heather and Mara (again) for potentially not making me look at boxes for a couple of hours on Sunday while we eat delicious dimsum and possibly go get manicures. The mere possibility is making me giddy with delight.

Now, it is time to (finally) go to sleep so that we can do MORE packing and moving and sweating and cursing tomorrow. UGH.

New Project: Bottles on a Budget!

2010-07-29T10:53:00.002-04:00

As if I don't have enough to do these days, we're starting a new blog. (Well, hopefully "we." I'm trying to convince Roommate Michelle and Le Boyfriend to pitch in.)

I am proud to introduce... Bottles on a Budget! A blog about wines under $20 and beers under $10. We're going to focus on laymen's reviews of wine and beer, and less on the "there were oak undertones, with a hint of lavender and citrus." I'm more of a "Did it taste good? Yes/No." and "Was it affordable?" person, so that's what we're gonna do. We'll probably throw some stuff about New Haven, Connecticut vineyards, food, Connecticut breweries, and local merchants in there, too.

So mosey on over and check out Bottles on a Budget. "Magical beer, magical wine...tasty, delicious and best when it's mine!"

Material Girl?

2010-07-28T08:40:00.002-04:00

In the process of packing, I have once again come to an uncomfortable conclusion:

I have way too much crap.

Now, I could rationalize it by saying that I am the one bringing a bedroom set, the majority of the kitchen stuff, and the majority of the entertainment system, which of course means that I have a lot of stuff.

But let's face it, I don't need 16 kinds of bowls and 3 teapots.

I could also attempt to excuse myself from the situation with the concept that a lot of this stuff is childhood/college/art projects/whatever, and that they aren't living at my parent's house because my parents live 800 miles away. And that I'm saving my parents some space in their basement. And saving them work when they someday move.

But let's face it, am I ever going to actually display the giant painted ostrich egg from some high school project that I don't even remember the purpose of? (I do remember the class, teacher, and how much goofing off we all did in that class, though.) And what the heck am I actually going to do with all of my notes and papers from college?

Then there's the excuse that I buy things in bulk and on sale, because it's better to have 6 boxes of pasta when they're on sale than buy them one at a time at full price.

But let's face it, that's such a Midwestern mentality: stock up and wait the bad times out. And I a) no longer live in the Midwest and b) have a pretty solid knowledge that my job isn't going anywhere (though I did move departments, but they can't run the Bass Media program without me).

Oh wait! I have all of these collectibles and vintage things and antiques! And I have family heirlooms! And stuff from those years that my grandparents lived in Africa/Turkey/Europe! And it must be kept safe and cherished and maybe some of it is special enough to be displayed!

But let's face it, that's just a socially acceptable form of hoarding.

And don't get me started on the sheer number of books that I have...

I don't know how to deal with the art and the artifacts and the antiques and the pasta and the books and the 16 bowls and 3 teapots at this time. Actually, thinking about reducing my number of possessions is sort of scary. We're programmed to show our worth and personality through the amount and type of stuff that we have. I'm an educated, cultured, 20-something female with many talents, my stuff says. I can put together a kick-ass entertainment system just as easily as I can do some crazy 16th note runs in Bach, but don't forget that I'm a cook and a book worm, too. I can build a Hackintosh and I can sew buttons back on shirts. (I...am...Renaissance Woman!)

So let's face what I can deal with. After the dust settles from the move, I am going to digitize all of the college notes. Scan it in, label it, file it, recycle the paper. That should get rid of some of the stuff I have, without getting rid of the thoughts and ideas and millions of hours I spent agonizing over the lives of dead people in 17th century Italy. Maybe I'll convince Le Boyfriend to do the same, and we'll both get rid of some dead weight.

If Walls Could Talk...

2010-07-26T21:46:00.002-04:00

If my walls could talk, right now the new ones would be exclaiming about how much of my vocabulary is uncouth and downright awful.

Right now, I'm working on moving from one apartment in New Haven to another. Nothing's wrong with the current apartment; I've spent 16 great months here. I'm moving in with Le Boyfriend, an event which I think my parents are pretending isn't happening and the rest of my social circle wishes was just done already, so I'd stop ~~bitching~~ talking about it.

But in my defense, this is turning into a Nightmare. That's right, with a capital N. We were told that the kitchen would be done before we moved in. Well, we technically move in Aug. 1, but they still haven't laid tile in the kitchen. Which means that there's no cabinetry and no appliances in there, either. In fact, the wooden padding that goes between the tile and the old linoleum isn't finished yet. I know this because I have a key to the apartment already, so that we can move some stuff in before this weekend.

Now, I normally wouldn't be so concerned, but for two issues:
1: The bathroom renovation in my current apartment that was supposed to take 2 weeks to complete took 3.5
2: R, the new tenant taking my room, has a move date of Saturday, that we're trying really hard to accommodate. If the kitchen isn't done, I can't finish moving in. I'm not "living" in a place that I can't even safely store my breakfast cereal and soy milk.
Experience tells me that it may very well take longer than the original estimate, and then I've got a concerned R in the other ear.

R and I had the conversation about how long it would take me to move out my stuff while the landlord was standing there with us in my kitchen. So it's not like he doesn't know of all the concerns/issues. I'm beginning to think that moving in with my grandmother might be a simpler solution. The fact that she lives in Indiana? Minor detail. We'll invent teleportation to get around that problem.

I may have neglected to mention the annoyance of a heat wave. Packing while breathing in what feels like soup is painful. Seriously. Le Boyfriend almost gave himself a case of heat exhaustion on Sunday when we moved the first truckload of stuff over. (I made him sit his ass down and drink half a Gatorade. "You can't 'power through' in this heat. Mostly because I can't 'power through' getting you to the hospital because you're being a stubborn dumb ass," I told him. Guilt: perfect for all those time you need to "help" someone make a decision!)

Moving apartments during the last week of July during a heat wave? Not the best idea ever. Le Boyfriend has been informed that we are never ever ever moving again because I can't deal with the thought of it (he laughed, but agreed).

I'm moving some more stuff tomorrow, with a friend that I helped move several weeks ago. I'm desperately hoping that maybe, maybe the tile will be down on the kitchen floor when I walk in the door?

Well, a girl can dream, right?

You drive me crazy

2010-03-15T15:13:00.002-04:00

It's time for another sporadic update by yours truly, The SMiChick. Today we shall talk about something near and dear to my own heart, because it's been a rough couple of days/weeks/months and I have things that I finally know how to deal with.

In other words...

Erin's List of Things That Drive Her Bat Shit Crazy*

Inefficiency

There are 24 hours in the day. I spend roughly 8 of them sleeping, 2-3 of them eating or preparing food to eat, another ~7.5 at work, 1 hour of travel/outdoor time and 1.5 hours in transition between the states of sleep and work. That leaves me with around 2 hours of time for movies, books, cleaning, ParkerPuppy cuddle time, and whatever else I want or need to do. I do not want to spend any more time than I have to on Requirements (cleaning, food prep, daily duties, etc.). Less time with Requirements means more Erin Time. And I think we can all agree that personal time is awesome, and deserves to be hoarded.

So when I find ways to spend less money, less time, less resources on Requirements, I tend to make them part of my habits. I use retailmenot.com. I stack the wet, clean dishes in the rack for maximum drying ability while being able to easily take the stack apart so that everything can be put away in moments (hint: put like things together in the rack). I have the shower stuff organized in the order I use it so that I don't have to think about what I'm grabbing, I just go to the same spot every day and use it (shampoo, conditioner, face wash, body wash - you have to use the shampoo first because it comes before conditioner, everything else comes after conditioner so that you can leave it in for a little while to get everything nice and soft and smooth and shiny). I buy things on clearance ($1.50 bag of whole meal flour at Target, SCORE!). Make up is in a drawer organizer, grouped by item and color. All of this means that I can spend what's leftover from my resources, whether it be time or money or less stress on things that I actually like to do. Like sleep. Or read. Or attempt new complicated recipes of deliciousness. If you don't waste effort in the first place, you can do a lot of amazing things that you like with it later on. (Yes, sleep is wholly in the amazing category.)
Bad Drivers, and People Who React Poorly to Bad Drivers

Yes, Johnny Appleseed, I am totally looking at you. And yes, New England, am I totally staring you down about this issue. First of all, being a jackass driver puts you, the people in your car, and every other person on the road at risk. So contemplate the fact that jackassery has gotten people killed, and other people sued through the years, and that yes, Tiny Voices, it could happen to you, too. Both the death and the suing.

I could quote statistics at y'all until I'm blue in the face, but there's no point in that. I can't control the fact that not many people care about statistics because they don't have a personal connection to a set of numbers and a bell curve. But I CAN control how I react to the jackassery on the highway. And so can you.

Tell me, what does flipping someone off do for you? It certainly doesn't make you a nicer person, 'cause as Grandma Lucy would say "You are how you act and if that's the gesture or language that you're going to use, you are not a very nice person and you can leave." (Grandma Lucy is fully of nuggety wisdom.) What does honking your horn achieve? Alerting them to the fact that you have one? Congrats, I'm so glad that you have a working horn installed!! That's mega-awesome, dude. And obnoxious as hell.

Actually, I'll make the pop quiz super easy for y'all: it accomplishes nothing productive. Nothing good happened because someone flipped someone else the bird. Nothing wonderful occurred when you draped yourself over the horn for three very long minutes. You know what did happen? You reacted. To a jerk. And then you became an extension of that jerk. You have the self-control of a jerk. And a three year old. Actually, I'm pretty sure ParkerPuppy has more self-control than you in that jerk-moment, and he ain't the brightest bulb in the box.

So now we have a jerk, an extension of the jerk reacting to the jerk, and my dumb-ass dog being a better human being than you are. Ain't this a pretty sight. (If you can't hear my sarcasm, let me make it easy for you: this part is dripping with it.) Grow up. Be patient. Be polite. Use your turn signal; it's included for a reason. And stop making illegal U-turns in the middle of the street like a dumbass. Yes, I'm still looking at you, Johnny Appleseed.
People With Poor Planning/Communication Skills

Just email me the night before if we need to play Car Tetris. Seriously. We have a one lane driveway and I am not at your beck and call.

As far as those skills are related to everything else - if I think you are rude and/or stupid I won't take you seriously. Or I might take you seriously and try to ruin everything you do. Or I might wholly ignore your existence. Or any combination of those things, really. Making me think you are inconsequential (or a potential enemy) is probably really, really bad, because then I don't give a fig what you do or say or want or think. Eh, I'll just do it my way. Or I'll get super passive aggressive. I'm not proud of those moments, but if it gets me what I want or need, I'll live with it. (I'm surprisingly able to live with a lot of moral compromises. Comes with being a godless heathen and all, I'm sure.)
Religious Hypocrisy

I'ma let that one stew in your head for a while. Just know that I hate it. Lots.

*Bat Shit Crazy is a term I often use to denote levels of extreme craziness. See most references to my family for further examples.

Try a little harder

2009-11-18T15:43:00.005-05:00

I'm really bad at this.

First of all, I don't think that I have lots of random interesting things to say all the time. There's enough OTHER people blathering on the Internet without me helping say a whole lot of nothing.

Then there's the time component. I have a full time job, a budding photography hobby, a choir, a choir board, a holiday ensemble, a dog, volunteer work on weekends at the Peabody, a period music ensemble, occasional pet sitting, normal everyday chores (dishes, laundry, etc) and have recently acquired the Johnny Awesomesauce, my boyfriend (sort of like Johnny Appleseed, only...awesomesauce. You can blame "How I Met Your Mother."). So between social obligations, music obligations, work, dog poop patrol and sleep, I'm sort of BUSY.

Thirdly, I can't figure out how personal to make this blog. I used to write, near-daily in fact, on LiveJournal. It was theraputic. It was dramatic. It definitely helped me chronicle my writing style as it changed, and improved my typing speed like crazy. I was all over that bitch in high school, and the first half of college, but then it sort of died after I got back from Ireland (end of Fall 2006). I started this particular blog for an internship at Saint Mary's, and I'd sort of like to remain true that original purpose - semi-academic, well-crafted thoughtful postings on women, technology, feminism, and education. Yeaaaaaahhhhh. That sort of died.

So now I have no idea what to do. I don't want to chit chat about Johnny Awesomesauce all day long, because we're just dating and starting out. It's not like we're getting married or popping out babies. I don't want to talk about insanely personal parts of my life like I used to on LJ. DUDE you do not need to know about my periods. Or why I have issues with my parents. (What 20-something doesn't?) But I do want the freedom to brag about just how much fun J.A. and I have, or something goofy ParkerPuppy does, or shamelessly promote my fledgling photography skills.

So maybe I just say to hell with my inhibitions and make this blog exactly what I want to be despite these weird loyalties to The Original Purpose of this thing. Or maybe I go take a nap and think on it. Actually I rather like that last idea...

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

Totally not tech related. Read at your own risk/boredom.

2009-09-05T16:22:00.004-04:00

I sort of want a tattoo.

Problem is, the tattoo that I want would require a lot of time, ink, pain, money and skin. When I described the concept to a friend of mine who has several tattoos, she laughed at me and said that while it would be neat, I would probably never do it. My Cousin of Awesome in Nashville also thought that it would be "damn cool" but advised that I might want to start with a small part of it and "grow it out."

Her phrasing being completely apt, we laughed and smiled on the car ride home from the airport when we were talking about it (albeit quietly so as not to wake the sleeping angel in the backseat). In short, I want a vine-and-flower tattoo. And I'm not talking about some pretty little pink rose and a curly bit of stem around it: my body would be the growing stake for the vine. It would start at my left ankle, curl around my calf and thigh, wrap around my stomach and chest, and flow across my upper back to my right shoulder and then down my right arm with a final flower ending across the back of my hand.

I know, I know (shut UP Tiny Voices). That would be some serious ink. For a girl that has NONE. So let's examine why Erin the Fearless hasn't yet done this.

1) I don't know anything about tattoos. Like, how to design them or where to go or how much they cost or how to take care of them. Everyone in my life who does have them, lives in Indiana. Fat lot of good that does me here in New Haven.

2) ~~Money~~. Actually, that's a cop out answer. Scratch that. I'm not telling you, Internet, how much I make ('cause that ain't yo' bizniz and all), but I assure you, if I can afford to buy plane tickets like mad all summer long, I can afford some ink.

3) Needles. I don't like 'em. At all. I am told that the sensation of tattoo needles is not the same as the needles that the YHP shoves in my arm when it's time for a flu shot or the anti-cervical cancer thingy, but I've got a healthy ~~fear~~ respect for shiny, pointy things that I can feel in my arm/ass/gumline/where ever it's being put. I had to deal a lot with needles as a kid because of my food allergies, and while I've conquered my ~~fear~~ ~~loathing~~ ~~utter and complete horror~~ issues with needles on an everyday basis, I'm a little scared to find out what happens when I purposefully lay myself out on a table so that some guy/gal/certified creature can poke tiny, rapid, ink-filled holes in my pale Irish skin.

(The Tiny Voices would like to me address the fact that I have a nose piercing. "That required a needle! One that you could actually see light through, if you held it up and looked through it!" Yes, yes, I had that done. But that was one needle and it was fast and despite the fact that it bled, it wasn't that scary because I knew it would be over damn quick. Also, the dude doing it was cute and had the best Irish accent ever.)(SHUT UP!)

4) Professionalism. While IT is not particularly known for being overly strict about how you look, and the media does a damn good job of ~~stereotyping~~ portraying geeks as people who should be free to dress, pierce, tattoo, etc. themselves however they'd like (a la Abby from NCIS, assorted characters from Bones, and some other assorted forensic science shows that are filled with kick ass female characters that I watch), I have had it beat into my pretty little Midwestern head that Mature People do not get tattoos, Tattoo'd People do not get Good Jobs, and all of that other elitist BS that exists.

Problem is that it's still justified in said pretty little head because I still don't know what I'm doing with my life. Yeah, I'm never gonna be the CEO of Chase (ew) or an elementary school teacher in the Midwest (or anything in the Midwest if I can help it) or anything else that requires you to be God Fearing and Conservative, but what if I want to be a CIO or the head of a dept. or something else that requires you to be Professional and Mature? I don't see the CIOs of either school I've worked for hosting tattoos.

(Granted, I interviewed successfully at last summer's internship and Yale while ~~forgetting to remove~~ wearing a nose ring, so it's quite possible that the ~~stereotyping~~ work force is getting looser on the whole Conservative Conformity thing.)

5) My Mother. She's still pretending that the nose jewelry is a sticker. Though I gleefully look for ways to push her buttons, the sheer DRAMA that would occur when I came home sporting a giant vine crawling up my leg and down an arm is not something with which I wish to deal. In fact, I'm fairly certain that I would not wish that "discussion" upon all but the worst of my (mostly fictional) enemies.

Although it might just prove to be so shocking that no one says a damn thing, which would be awfully awesome. But unlikely.

6) Permanency. Yeah, that shit's forever. I like how I look without tattoos. Would I like how I look with them? I don't know. I guess I could Sharpie myself for a month and find out, but that's a lot of work. And while I'm not really lazy, per say, I don't have that much dedication for a project that has a 50% chance of not happening.

It doesn't help that half the time I ease into things and the other I go for the all-or-nothing approach. (Hey, I never said I was rational!) For this, I have no idea which would be best, because the ink IS permanent, so you might as well go for the complete Body Vine as the Pretty Little Rosebud, because neither one of those suckers is leaving without some serious time with Mr. Laser and Dr. Dermatologist.

So am I insane, or do I just need to sort of direct my desires/curiosities? Thoughts on how to do the latter?

What would you do if...

2009-07-27T23:42:00.002-04:00

Let's pretend, for a brief moment, that things are different. Perhaps we live in an earlier time, or in a later one. In this sphere of difference, there are no cell phones, no personal computers much less personal computing devices, no e-readers, no Internet, no cables, modems, TVs, gaming consoles, lasers or anything else that I (and many, MANY other people) currently depend upon to provide me with a job.

In this imaginary and perhaps terrifying world, the question becomes, what would we do? In terms of communication, entertainment, jobs, recreation, productivity... What would the skill set be, instead of that which is currently possessed by millions upon millions of citizens of the worlds?

Well, for starters, y'all wouldn't be reading this, because I wouldn't be writing it, publishing it, putting it on the web for the world to peruse or mock or whatever it is that the Internet does to my ill-used blog.

One of the things that constantly amazes me is our dependence upon technologies. Not only do we assume that past technologies will continue to work (or at least that the foundations they created will), that current technologies will provide that which is needed, and most importantly, that new technologies and ideas will continue to spew forth, making our lives "better," and full of more "conveniences." But is it?

Hundreds, probably thousands even, of articles have been written in the past 20 years about how technology is changing humanity for the worse; that we're losing touch with each other, the world, the earth, life - you name it, we've lost it and DOOM WILL COME OF IT! And another several hundred, maybe thousand, articles have been written on how technology will save the same nouns previously listed. YAY TECHNOLOGY; IT WILL SAVE US ALL! So which is it? Are we slowly dying from the carginogens in our Macbook Pros, or are we creating and pushing the experiences of the human existence with collaborative software and new media mashups?

But rhetoric aside, let's go back to the idea of our world sans the thing we love: how would we manage? Could we manage? Can we even accurately fathom the idea of such a prehistoric world? Well, I can. And do. And sometimes wish it was so.

"Noooooooooo!!" cry out millions of Tiny Voices. "Erin, how can you say such a thing?! You work for ITS!"

Actually, I say and type it with relative ease (and not without a nod to irony). Because the question isn't really can we exist without technology; the answer is clearly yes. Our forefathers and foremothers did. As I'm fond of pointing out to my cell-phone obsessed siblings, modern homo sapien didn't have phones for several thousand years. Yet we managed to survive, create, communicate, travel and raise a lot of pretty awesome buildings without a single phone call or text. No, the question really is, "Should we exist with such a dependency upon technology?" And I think the answer is no.

Should we use technology to make things faster? Sure. I can type so much faster than I can hand write things out, and my handwriting kind of dies after awhile, so type is easier to read in the long run. I like being able to go lots of places with access to the Internet in my pocket, as well as the handy GPS function the iPhone provides. I love the Kindle, and managing 100+ students is beyond easier with our web apps and email. I'm not sure that we could manage that many students without it.

But should we be dependent upon it, to the point that we don't know what to do without it? Oh hell no. But I see that happening, a lot, perhaps more so than others because of the very fact that I work in technology.

So what do we do to combat the driving need to be attached to email, cell phones, texts, updates on Facebook and Twitter and RSS feeds? Well, we start with simple things, like self control. Parents, your children will not die if you do not give them a cell phone at age 8. I promise. I didn't have one until I was 20. I'm sure the Tiny Voices are gasping that such a thing is true, but it is, and HEY LOOK I'm still alive! To put it into perspective, there are still people out there who are living on subsistence farming methods on every continent. They do not own cell phones, and they probably never will. They do not have email, they do not compulsively check Facebook to see if John and Susan are still dating, they do not give a single iota for Michael Jackson's death, life or music. And they are, amazingly, happy.

Self-control, first then. And then simple curiosity, paired with a banishing of shoe-gazing abilities that my generation is so prone to possessing. I have this crazy idea for mandatory service corp post-high school, but that's for another day entirely. But we must encourage and seek out new ideas and experiences that are not related to the computer. Wait, what is that, Tiny Voices? You ask what you would do without it?

Anything you want, my dears. Unshackle yourself from the Internet and the data networks and the cell phone towers for a day. Try it. I dare you. You might be surprised.

Firsts: a little bit of this and that

2009-07-04T14:21:00.010-04:00

The last 30 odd days have been full of firsts for me. I started my first summer not in the Midwest, went to my first ResNet Symposium in St. Cloud, MN, and am preparing for my first major move.

Summers in the Midwest start mid-May and contain hot, muggy days where all you want to do is eat freezy pops and lie under the AC unit. Summers in Connecticut apparently consist of rain, rain, and more rain. I am told this is not the norm, but that was also said of snow in December and January, the cold temperatures in spring, and I don't know how many other things relating to weather and seasonal behaviors. I'll believe "normal" when it finally comes. Trading muggy days for rainy days is an improvement for breathing, but not for my mood stability. Damn you seasonal affective disorder!

The first ResNet Symposium was at its most simple, amazing. Somewhere after Day 2 I stopped being able to describe the fun. There was of course, the expected networking, learning, teaching, sharing, etc. but the level of humor and good ol' fashioned goofballery far exceeded my expectations. I now have many friends that I cannot wait to see again at future Northeast ResNet conferences, as well as looking forward to next year's conference at Western Washington University. And definitely looking forward to 2011, when Yale hosts the Symposium! It'll be a lot of work, but I'm excited already!

As far as the major move is concerned, it's interesting already. I reserved a 12' truck from Penske, as they had the cheapest price/truck and gave discounts for online reservations and AAA membership (it just paid for itself). When my dad and I went to go pick it up Saturday AM, we were given a 16' truck for the same price. Joy. I have now have a monstrosity to drive across the Eastern third of the US. Because 12' wasn't big enough, right?

Other random thoughts, given my current insomnia...iPhoto's "Faces" can be pretty entertaining; mine in particular thinks that car wheels are people. Why can't I mark more "Locations" in iPhoto? The iPhone photos label themselves due to GPS, but I'd like to add more info to the other 500 photos that I haven't taken with the iPhone. Goose Apocalypse in the park today was entertaining: my little brother threw some leftover bread into the water, and then next thing we knew there were 20 Canadian geese surrounding us. I climbed up onto the picnic table to "take pictures." Rain on the 4th of July should be illegal. And I should definitely go to bed.

Continuation

2009-06-17T22:18:00.000-04:00

I've decided that since I still have this blog, since I'm still working in educational technologies, I'm still a feminist and I'm still a woman, I should continue in the blogosphere. If no one reads it, ok; if someone does, awesome and thanks for reading.

In the last 13 months, some pretty amazing (and sometimes scary) things have happened. There was a graduation, a summer school class, a paid summer tech internship, lots of pet sitting, a third job at ND working weekends and nights, three job interviews, 2 flights, and one job offer. Thankfully, it was the job offer I wanted. And needed. And good freaking lord I work for Yale now.

Yes, that's right folks, Erin got a job at YALE. Complete with a nice paycheck and benefits. I lived some some "interesting" people for 6 months, and when that lease ended, got the hell out. I now live with very nice people in an apartment 10 blocks from work, that is pet friendly and normally houses quiet people. Currently the subletters downstairs are...well, less than quiet, but I'll deal. PS, my backyard is I-91. That would be an eight lane highway.

So what do I do? Basically, what I did in college, only for lots more money and more permissions to the fun administrative programs. Have I mentioned how sweet this job is? No? Let me declare it so: MY JOB IS AWESOME. Yes, there are days that are less awesome (like when I have to fire someone) and days that are spectacular (like the day I got put in charge of the tech side of Yale's potential/future e-reader program); but every day, I learn something and laugh at least once. Usually more. Definitely more.

I'm learning more about how to be a Boss and a Friend, Dell and Apple hardware, e-readers, ResNet, photography, how to make a film, how to live with strangers (yep, still mastering that one), and how to live on my own. Actually, scratch that last one, I've got it pretty well figured out. I can cook and do my own laundry. I pay all of my own bills. I own a dog and he's all set; I show up for work every day (usually on time, but occasionally I slip up). Yeah, I've got the supporting self thing down. W00t.

As Janice would say: "You go girl." Well, I went East, I settled in, and I'm happy. It doesn't get much better than this.

Patience is a virtue, I hear...

2008-08-18T18:53:00.002-04:00

and I must confess that I do not possess it at all. But a great many readers of this already knew that, I'm guessing.

No word from Yale yet. I have somehow managed to not bite all of my nails off; in fact, they are growing. The mind boggles.

I'll let y'all know soon as I hear, one way or the other. (Everyone clap their hands and say "I do believe in Yale, I do! I do!" and I'll get the job, right? I mean, it worked for Tinker Bell!)

Sort of related news, I didn't get the job working in the registrar's office at ND. "We found someone with more database experience, but we were very impressed with your technical credentials and your interviewing deportment." I didn't really want that job anyways.....but meh.

Thanks for all of the well wishes and support over the last two weeks!!

Erin Graduates, Gets a pseudo!Job, Gets Interview for real!Job...

2008-08-11T21:58:00.003-04:00

So far all you Erin the SMiChick fans out there, here's a quick-and-dirty update (yes, the title does more or less sum it all up....but there's no fun in that!)

So I graduated! YAY! May 17th, 2008 shall forever be awesome. Plus that one summer class needed to graduate...yeah. DONE.

So I got an internship (besides the really fun one with Vince, Janice, Kathy, Dan and the IT Crowd)! I've been working for United Fixtures Co/Interlake. They make big steel...things. Like those big steel girder-esque things you see in Home Depot and Lowe's. Yeah, those're all ours. Other clients include but are not limited to: Wal*Mart, Meijer's, and some companies I've never heard of before this. I take care of: cell phone problems, documentation, rewriting manuals, SyteLine education, customer service initiative, and whatever else they want to make me do.

Hey, for a $10/hr internship, I'll do just about whatever they want. I drew the line at cleaning the office for them. Loudly.

So I applied for "real" jobs. You know, the ones with things attached to them. Medical, dental, retirement plans, etc. Those are rumoured to be handy. Had an interview with Zimmer mid-summer that went nowhere, had an interview with ND's Registrar's Office last Monday (I'll hear back from them on Thursday at the latest; I am SO overqualified for that position), and I am now in New Haven, CT for a third.

New Haven, Connecticut would be the home of Yale University, where I am interviewing for a position in their Information Technology Services, to be an Asst. Manager of the Student Technology Collaborative. Think...SMC's ResNet with more hands-on stuff and some Helpdesk practices thrown in. Super awesome. So far, so good. I'm in an awesome hotel, have a Yale loaner laptop and dinner with my potential future boss and her family was a lot of fun. We had seafood and ice cream and Nate (their little boy) didn't want me to leave at the end of the night. Aww. Major Parent Points were scored. (Didn't hurt that my fabulous past boss told her that I babysit and am generally full of awesome!)

So now I'm off to bed, because I've got a crazy schedule in the morning!
I'll let y'all know how it goes!!

PS I feel like such a Midwesterner...but Midwesterners are wonderful people!!

Tech Savvy: Educating Girls in the New Computer Age

2008-04-09T22:24:00.003-04:00

Sherry Turkle, Patricia Diaz Dennis, et al., from Living in the Information Age

As a young woman soon entering in the workplace, I had a particular interest in this article. Turkle and Dennis are concise and direct in their assessment that the technological education of girls needs to begin in the K-12 area and continue through high school and college. Their main concerns are that technology is not created with women in mind (as the creators are men), and that current cultural ideas and action circulating among women regarding technology point out the deficits and short comings of current technology education methods.

They point to the lack of "quality of educational software" as well as few, if any, "opportunities to design" programs and software that can be used to best suit needs across disciplines in a single classroom.

While all of this is true and extremely relevant to the students at Saint Mary's, what I would have liked to see fewer bullet points and more discussion. Perhaps I'm just a HUSTian at heart and have been trained to read rather than scan; I do know, however, that more things can be said in a essay than can be said in a set of bullet points. But I digress from the point of things.

My actual and non-superficial critique of the article is that Turkle and Dennis seem to have forgotten one key detail in the implementation of new technology methods in the lower divisions and new pedagogy in higher ed: support. I.e., Money. American greenbacks make the US school systems go 'round, and without financial support from tax payers, administrators in the individual school systems, parental involvement and support, the change will not occur. I can easily identify with the problems, as several, if not all, of their changes should be made within my high school. Seeing as I still have siblings in that school system and the high school itself, I've heard many a tale of what's changed and who's left and who's replaced them. What I haven't heard is that improvements have been made to the computer labs, the teachers' computers themselves, or that software upgrades have been purchased. Oh, I'm sure certain upgrades have happened - I'm betting that all the Dell's are running XP Pro by now, and that the single Mac lab has one of the last three OS upgrades.

Most school systems (based on what I know of the school systems in St. Joseph and Elkhart counties) don't have a large budget marked out for computers and technology. The ones that do are typically one of the magnet schools that specifically use technology for art or science. The liberal arts' relationship with technology is non-existent as far as high schools are concerned, suffering from some misconception that all liberal arts folks need is an OS and MS Office (Which is completely incorrect and crazy, I don't know what I'd do with a computer on which I could only write papers. Maybe use it as a paperweight?).

Other problems rear their head in the issue of funding. Thanks to the Bush Administration's infinite levels of unquestionable wisdom, most teachers don't have the time to worry about giving their students a comprehensive education that includes decent computer knowledge (and I don't mean programming or building from scratch; we're talking basic "this is Office and it's a set of programs that make your life easy;" the distinctions between web browsers and e-mail clients, etc.). Instead of learning new techniques, ideas, and software and then incorporating that into the curriculum, teachers are forced to spend time going over basics in reading, writing and math so that students can take pointless, ridiculous standardized tests which then determine a great many fates: the student, the teacher, the school and even the school system. No Child Left Behind places an emphasis on a sort of false holistic approach to education and leaves no room for individual learning and teaching styles, forgetting that the world is a dynamic place.

(I shall endeavor to leave that soapbox; I obviously have a deep and long-standing dislike of NCLB, having been the first graduating class that suffered under its delusions of success and grandeur. I make no apologies for it, however, and never will.)

However, it is my deepest hope that as more women join the technology field, it will be seen as more socially acceptable, feasible, and even promotable to increase the availability to computer classes to young women, as well as teaching styles from the beginning. I do have one thing that I would like to add to Turkle and Dennis' ideas: the expectation of computer competence. When parents and teachers begin to treat young women as a) competent computer users and b) give the proper guidance and tools (which is largely influenced by economic status, I am aware), then female students will not feel that this is a boys' realm. It will become simply a skill to possess, like spelling or addition. Non-gendered and demanded is my hope, I suppose. Let's see how long that actually takes.

Helpdesk Tracking Systems; or, A Shout Out to Bonnie and Sue (and Nate, too!)

2008-02-06T20:59:00.000-05:00

One of the best parts of any job is the perks. To be honest, there aren't too many perks in the world of student workers. Some of IT student workers have it a little better than others on campus: ResNet and Helpdesk girls get Fishsticks (flashdrives), one week early move-in during the Fall, and easy access to a printer from 8-5pm (all wonderful things!).

One of my personal favorite parts, though, is working with the IT staff to bring new things to the dept. and to campus. One of our current projects is researching and the eventual implementation of a new task/inventory tracking system for the Helpdesk. As much as we all "love" the current system (and by "love," I mean despise), a new and functional tracking system is long overdue.

Kathy, Sue, Bonnie, Nate, Francis, myself and other members of IT put together a list of wanted and needed features for a new program last semester, and Kathy spearheaded the hunt. We've had meetings with two vendors already, with two more to come. We've looked at everything from open source to "everything in the box - the KBOX" and we've come across a variety of ideas, costs, and capabilities of programs, with some very interesting conversations along the way.

One of the things that we've discovered is that most of the programs include an inventory bit, which we currently don't have. The impact of this feature is that instead of HDCs (Helpdesk Consultants) having to remember to ask for this information from users (as there's no field to remind us), the program will tell us what that user has. I do a little dance of joy at the thought of no more confusion: "Do you have a Mac or a PC?" "What kind of PC?" "What model of [Dell, MPC, etc.]?" "Laptop, desktop?" and my personal favorite: "What kind of printer are you talking about?" We'll be handed the information!

The really exciting feature for the HDCs is that all of the programs can be tied to the LDAP server. In other words, tied to the ePhonebook, eliminating a step in our already laborious process of creating a record. Other fun features include user and machine history databases, user-created tickets, and automatic replies to users.

I think that the best part of this, as I mentioned earlier, was that we're bringing something new to SMC. We're offering better service, and a faster turnaround time on responses and the like. We're also learning how to use a new piece of software that will prepare some of us for other IT positions or jobs that use large-scale ticket systems. And we're offering faculty and staff a chance to be more involved with their computers as they enter their own problem. They'll learn about their computer in the process, hopefully.

A different aspect of this process is that I get to work more closely with members of IT that I normally wouldn't. Sue, Bonnie and Nate spend a lot of time running around campus, fixing computers. I have a chance to interact with them in a new facet; I have a better understanding of what they need to do their jobs. It's always interesting to have a product meeting with them, because they have questions that I never would have thought to ask but I know will help the HDCs and the Helpdesk, simply because I don't do their jobs.

So here's to Bonnie, Sue, and Nate - for doing an awesome job of keeping the profs (and therefore us!) and the College's computers happy!

Somehow, it's already Week 4 of classes...

2008-02-03T15:23:00.000-05:00

...and time stops for no one. The last few weeks I've been absent due to workings on my HUST comp, but I thought perhaps a quick update on things IT and Communications-related wouldn't go amiss.

The IT Strategic Plan is taking shape, bit by bit. A meeting between section leaders, Janice and myself took place in the first week of classes and it was decided that we would be using Google Docs to put the major pieces of the Plan together. By using Google Docs, rather than a shared space on th network, emailing a Word document back and forth, or any of the wealth of possible solutions to working collaboratively, we're able to add, remove, move around, undo, redo, cut, copy and paste to our hearts' content. Revisions are saved on Google's massive array of servers, enabling us to go back and use data previously removed. Additionally, we're able to tell who made what revisions. It makes for a very nice cohesive (and free!) web-based program for the huge amounts of collaborative work that we're doing for the Plan.

However, my favorite part of all this is purely from selfish reasons: I'm the master editor for the final draft! With everyone working like this, my job will be made much, much easier in the end. All I have to do it take the documents, download them onto my computer as Word documents, put them together and load it back up into the Google Docs for everyone to review. Love it!

Other news from the IT front is that once again, a student body election platform ran, promising crazy technological advancements. HDCs and RCCs (and a couple of ClusCons) laughed at the ideas proposed. One of their claims was wireless in LeMans and Holy Cross Halls, which is planned for the future, but they said that they would move budgets around so that it would be finished by the end of the summer. Right. Of course they'll be able to do that. The student body presidnt/vp positions are nothing to sneeze at, in terms of influence for the college, but one thing these two seemed to have missed is that they have no control over IT's budget and certainly not the greater college's.

Other than that, I worked with Hayley and Kathy at the beginning of the semester to get the transfer students up and running with IDs and email accounts, which went swimmingly and was nothing compared to the Fall Invasion (almost 500 freshman plus everyone else registering computers, asking for assistance and getting accounts/IDs sorted out. Always a barrel of monkeys!).

The Beginnings

2007-12-30T22:30:00.000-05:00

Welcome, one and all, to Erin's InfoTech blog!

The purpose of this blog is to post weekly reflections from my upcoming internship with the Saint Mary's College Dept. of Information Technology. The internship is made possible through a collaborative effort of IT and the Communication Dept., as I will be examining the multiple and diverse roles of communication within the Saint Mary's community. I will be working with various members of the IT Dept. and with Dr. Vince Berdayes of the Comm. Dept to understand communication made possible by and within Info Tech as it relates to Saint Mary's. Special thanks go to Kathy Hausmann and Dan Mandell for helping me develop this internship, providing assistance and encouragement.

Communication has always fascinated me. Especially remote communication. As a Humanistic Studies major and an Anthropology minor, I have long been interesting in how the past communicates to the present, how the present will communicate to the future, and how different cultures communicate with each other. Preservation of information, whether it be user manuals, diaries or clay accounting ledgers, is something every single culture (past, present, and future) attempts. Some are more successful than others, but no one and nothing desires to be forgotten. The difference between past civilizations and the current world we live in is that we possess marvels that were unimaginable 20, 30 years ago. We are able to communicate with members of our own community at miraculous speeds, even though they are across campus. Through simple web-based application as e-mail and instant messaging, we can talk in "real" time with friends, coworkers, professors, family and classmates no matter their location on- or off-campus.

This kind of remote technology is dependent on many people, much time, and a LOT of hard work. The folks in the IT Dept. work some pretty insane hours, all for the good of the college, its students, its faculty and its staff. Through their diligence and skill, we have a (relatively) functional e-mail, a huge set of databases, a LDAP server that does just about everything, and a whole host of things of which I know nothing. That is one of the major aims of this next semester: learning what makes an IT dept. tick, and how communication (verbal, non-verbal, text, etc.) makes it all possible. What is "good" communication, and what is "bad"? What forms are most or least effective; does that change when dealing with different constituents (students, faculty, staff, IT staff specifically)? What kinds of information do members of the community want to hear about, and in what manner?

I also seek an understanding of technology and communication from a different angle than the present. I am, first and foremost, a student. My understandings of communication technology within Saint Mary's is primarily that of the student user, and for good reason. I spent a year and a half working in the Trumper Computer Cluster, a year working in ResNet, and I am currently the Technology Commissioner for the Board of Governance. I have, however, branched out from just the student user. As the Helpdesk Student Manager, I must; an understanding of the fac/staff user is required for the job. The last user in the User Tridiuum is that of the Tech User. I fall somewhat into that category myself, as a student member of IT. But the difference between IT users and everyone else is that they do more than use the technology.

They create it. They maintain it. They facilitate what everyone else can't even fathom.

Creation (and maintenance) of communication technology looks at what I and the other users mindlessly take advantage of on a daily basis, and looks at it hard. And differently. All in all, it's pretty amazing what you can do as a creator. Maintaining is less exciting, but still very important. Just using...well, like I said. It's fairly mindless. Working with the other aspects, such as hardware, software, spacing, timing, requirements, and so much more...it's like working with a huge jigsaw puzzle. It's complex, complicated, time-consuming, frustrating. You can hate it one day and love it the next. But in the end, there's a certain satisfaction in knowing that you're intimately involved with the life-blood of the College.

I love jigsaw puzzles. And I'm looking forward to the next semester, and all that I'll learn.