I enjoy the month of December.
There is still plenty of cold weather ahead, it is Christmas Season, and I am filled with Hope for the upcoming year. December is also a time where I look back at the past year and think of all of my accomplishments. This usually involves writing a Christmas Update letter and sending Christmas cards out to my extended family and faraway friends.
It is Sunday, December 21st. I have already traveled to my vacation destination, and I haven't even started composing a Christmas letter.
Remember the post Probability of Order? That was vague, wasn't it? Right. Well, I did it- I made the change- the turbulence is over- I left my old boss's group.
What does that even mean!!!
Unless you are in pursuit of your PhD in the basic sciences, you probably don't immediately understand the significance of leaving someone's group. At the end of this post I have a link to some of my previous thoughts on my graduate situation where I compare it to Slavery in the Old South. Today I will use a different comparison.
My department is a small town where the popular pastime is gossiping about other people's business. The town consists of 42 families, but instead of houses, we live in one apartment complex composed of 3 buildings. The gossip flies faster in such a close proximity.
The research groups are polygamist families before any sort of feminist revolution. The boss is the husband and the graduate students are the wives. (Although husband and wife here are used only to indicate power, not gender.) Leaving my boss's group is equivalent to getting a divorce and getting remarried in this small town of 42 families. My old boss has now been divorced 7 times in the last 6 years.
The good news is: I am out. I am now in a new group lead by a woman who has been a professor now for 2 years. I am going to have to work 60 hours a week on a regular basis- but it will be toward something that will get me a PhD. And that is the goal.
I feel a big sense of peace with this change because I trust my New Boss "Alice" where as I did not trust the old boss "Catfish." Catfish had the following priorities:
1. Complain about life in general, esp. about home repairs, graduate students, and other families in our 42 family town.
2. Sculpting: Ordering rocks and staying home from work to have them delivered, getting graduate students to make illegal copies of sculpting videos at the library, giving chemicals from the lab to the sculpting teacher, making a mess in the lab by mixing chemicals and rocks, talking about sculpting.
3. Making money by not actually doing anything: This is Catfish's secret obsession. He likes to talk about how he invested 1000 dollars in this start-up company that is one of his student's thesis projects. My thesis project had me doing experiments that had already been published in 2002! Why did I have to do them? Because he had a patent on this idea (which was a dumb idea which will never make him any money) and he was sure that if I did the work for it he could start a company and make a profit. Right. Forget about doing something because it is good science. Catfish only wants to use science in hopes of making himself rich. What else?
4. Playing Solitaire and Hearts on his laptop. You know how with Windows the start menu shows the recent programs used the most? Right, well every week for group meeting we hook up Catfish's computer to the projector and give him our power point presentations to show. He inevitably clicks on the Windows start menu icon... and the 2 most used programs on his laptop (his only work computer BTW) are ALWAYS Hearts an Solitaire. (the thing is- not only is he not working- how can any semi-intelligent person be entertained by those games!!! Right- Catfish is not intelligent.)
5. Telling graduate students that they need to buy research supplies with money from their paycheck. Awesome. Did I mention that it is HIS JOB to provide research funding for us? Oh yeah- Solitaire is way more stimulating that writing grants or publishing papers. What else is his job? helping his students get their research published in scientific papers. The last time one of his students published a paper containing original research was in 2005. In a few days it will be 2009.
Okay enough of that-- How did I get out? Well my old thesis project was based on this instrument and it was broken when I got it and continued to get worse. Catfish didn't think it was ever broken so it took a long time for me to convince him that we needed to fix it. And finally after trying to fix it for a semester- I realized that it wasn't fixable. The instrument I am talking about is a prototype that never made it to market. There are 5 of them in the world- and they are composed of many "made to order" parts. So... right... but Catfish has a patent (see #3 above) so when I told him that I needed a new thesis project because I couldn't fix the instrument- he said no. And I found a new thesis project in a different group. (A socially acceptable reason to get a divorce.)
In my new group, my new boss, Alice has a different set of priorities:
1. Get research done
2. Publish papers
3. Write grants
4. Stay on top of the current science literature
I think I will be happy in my new family.
Merry Christmas to me.
Recommended reading: Yes Masta, Youse a Good Masta
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Dog-possible: Diego the Impossible dog
It all happened too fast and too early in the morning. At least that's what Diego thought. He's the one who took a bite out of the guy's leg. Yes, I'm being serious. My dog bit someone. Fuck.
7 am. I roll out of bed and put on my signature giant black robe.
-Right, so it isn't even mine, it belongs to Jips, and because it is designed for a man it is large and it engulfs me in fluffiness. -
I hook up the dogs: Diego, a 25 lb pure beagle, and Herman, a 55 lb brown dog, and open the door of my apartment to go outside.
Now, in front of my door there is a narrow walkway, (about 4 feet wide) and there was a blond 22 year old coming back from a run walking into us. I pull the dogs back and the guy keeps walking past.
Please note: my dogs are harnessed and on leashes: nylon leashes with loop handles, not that pull and click kind. We are standing in the doorway of my apartment which opens into this 4 ft wide walkway, and this guy deliberately walks into us. The physical closeness would mean nothing for someone walking along crowded New York City sidewalks, but it meant something to Diego. He freaked out - lunged - and bit the guy in the leg.
The wound was less than one square inch-positioned on the side of his leg- between his shin and his calf. But remember, he was coming back from a run? His heart rate was up- and he had great circulation--the wound bled all over the place.
He asks if he can come into my apartment to clean up. (His apartment is just upstairs- but I say sure.) I wipe the blood off of his leg with a Puffs Plus with Lotion. He wants peroxide- I look around and we have almost no first aid supplies. Awesome. We have gauze and Target brand neosporin.
He says he loves dogs, he isn't going to report anything, etc. He says not to be too hard on Diego. We introduce ourselves. He lives upstairs. He leaves.
But my dog bit a person! Sure, I bet Diego felt cornered and scared. Add that to the four year mystery of his upbringing and you get a dog bite. Keep in mind that Herman was in the exact same situation, and he just stood there. Herman we raised from a puppy- we properly socialized him and he knows his place in our house.
I looked up dog bites on the Internet and it says that it is the owners fault for not raising the dog properly. I do take responsibility for my dog-- but I got him from the pound when he was four years old and pretty fucked up.
Diego is cute and affectionate, and that sums up all of his redeeming qualities.
When we got him, he had a collapsing trachea, heart worms, and ear infections. I had to hold him if he woke up at night until his second dose of cough medicine took effect and he went back to sleep. Jips holding him didn't cut it for Diego- it had to be me.
He wouldn't walk on a leash. He would just stand outside and freeze up like a dear in headlights. So I picked him up and carried him on walks with Herman. In interesting places I put him down and let him smell. After about a month, he learned how to walk the whole way by himself.
One day I was picking up dog toys from the carpet because I was about to vacuum. I found a tooth- a large canine tooth. I checked the boys' mouths and sure enough it was Diego whose tooth broke off. He had surgery to remove the rest of it because it was hurting him to eat. The vet said that years of rocking metal with his teeth had caused them to wear down. Someone must have left him in a crate for a long time when he didn't want to be in one.
Then what else? He has seizures on occasion, and he has a back problem- he can't handle steep stairs or the disks in his lower back get inflamed. So now we walk around the slope hill in the back of my apartment, and his back is doing fine.
Add to that the fact that he likes to pee on the TV stand and my computer chair and you have our special dog. And he likes to attempt to "hunt" every other dog in our apartment complex. He gets the scent- nose down tail up- and lifts his snout to give that loud trumpet beagle bay that his breed is known for.
I say all of this, but he HAS made tons of progress. He is a much healthier and happier dog now that we have had him for 2 years. Except for the fact that he is still a little bit neurotic and scared of everything. We understand that he likes to hide in the bedroom during a thunder storm, and he understands that we prefer him to pee outside rather than on the TV.
So now what do I do? He bit someone, and I have to change something. I ordered this book off of amazon: When Pigs Fly: Training Success with Impossible Dogs, because I think Diego qualifies. I will let you know how the training success goes when the book comes in.
7 am. I roll out of bed and put on my signature giant black robe.
-Right, so it isn't even mine, it belongs to Jips, and because it is designed for a man it is large and it engulfs me in fluffiness. -
I hook up the dogs: Diego, a 25 lb pure beagle, and Herman, a 55 lb brown dog, and open the door of my apartment to go outside.
Now, in front of my door there is a narrow walkway, (about 4 feet wide) and there was a blond 22 year old coming back from a run walking into us. I pull the dogs back and the guy keeps walking past.
Please note: my dogs are harnessed and on leashes: nylon leashes with loop handles, not that pull and click kind. We are standing in the doorway of my apartment which opens into this 4 ft wide walkway, and this guy deliberately walks into us. The physical closeness would mean nothing for someone walking along crowded New York City sidewalks, but it meant something to Diego. He freaked out - lunged - and bit the guy in the leg.
The wound was less than one square inch-positioned on the side of his leg- between his shin and his calf. But remember, he was coming back from a run? His heart rate was up- and he had great circulation--the wound bled all over the place.
He asks if he can come into my apartment to clean up. (His apartment is just upstairs- but I say sure.) I wipe the blood off of his leg with a Puffs Plus with Lotion. He wants peroxide- I look around and we have almost no first aid supplies. Awesome. We have gauze and Target brand neosporin.
He says he loves dogs, he isn't going to report anything, etc. He says not to be too hard on Diego. We introduce ourselves. He lives upstairs. He leaves.
But my dog bit a person! Sure, I bet Diego felt cornered and scared. Add that to the four year mystery of his upbringing and you get a dog bite. Keep in mind that Herman was in the exact same situation, and he just stood there. Herman we raised from a puppy- we properly socialized him and he knows his place in our house.
I looked up dog bites on the Internet and it says that it is the owners fault for not raising the dog properly. I do take responsibility for my dog-- but I got him from the pound when he was four years old and pretty fucked up.
Diego is cute and affectionate, and that sums up all of his redeeming qualities.
When we got him, he had a collapsing trachea, heart worms, and ear infections. I had to hold him if he woke up at night until his second dose of cough medicine took effect and he went back to sleep. Jips holding him didn't cut it for Diego- it had to be me.
He wouldn't walk on a leash. He would just stand outside and freeze up like a dear in headlights. So I picked him up and carried him on walks with Herman. In interesting places I put him down and let him smell. After about a month, he learned how to walk the whole way by himself.
One day I was picking up dog toys from the carpet because I was about to vacuum. I found a tooth- a large canine tooth. I checked the boys' mouths and sure enough it was Diego whose tooth broke off. He had surgery to remove the rest of it because it was hurting him to eat. The vet said that years of rocking metal with his teeth had caused them to wear down. Someone must have left him in a crate for a long time when he didn't want to be in one.
Then what else? He has seizures on occasion, and he has a back problem- he can't handle steep stairs or the disks in his lower back get inflamed. So now we walk around the slope hill in the back of my apartment, and his back is doing fine.
Add to that the fact that he likes to pee on the TV stand and my computer chair and you have our special dog. And he likes to attempt to "hunt" every other dog in our apartment complex. He gets the scent- nose down tail up- and lifts his snout to give that loud trumpet beagle bay that his breed is known for.
I say all of this, but he HAS made tons of progress. He is a much healthier and happier dog now that we have had him for 2 years. Except for the fact that he is still a little bit neurotic and scared of everything. We understand that he likes to hide in the bedroom during a thunder storm, and he understands that we prefer him to pee outside rather than on the TV.
So now what do I do? He bit someone, and I have to change something. I ordered this book off of amazon: When Pigs Fly: Training Success with Impossible Dogs, because I think Diego qualifies. I will let you know how the training success goes when the book comes in.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Professional Follower
In the comments of the last post Novella asked if my sister could get professional help.
I need to explain more of the story.
In this post, Sister = S.
The root of the problem is not that my sister is too skinny, but rather that she is a Follower. We are all followers to some extent, but she is a Follower in the most extreme of ways. She Follows to the point of becoming brainwashed. She is 27, and so far I can count 3 wash cycles each of which last years.
The first wash started in High School. S was popular. The popular group was her group. You have to be somewhat brainwashed to be popular in high school. I guess I haven't read much about this topic because it is one of the more socially acceptable ways to not think. Someone once said that religion isn't the opium of the people, fashion is. In high school she told me that I shouldn't let my date drive me home if he was drunk. That was good of her to tell me, and one of the signs that her mind wasn't totally mush.
When popular high school girls go to college they do one thing: Join Sororities. And that is what S did. Until she quit a year later to join what I call "the sorority church."
The second wash setting is: Fundamentalist Non-denominational Christian. The Sorority Church was on the edge of our college campus, and provided for all of a Follower's needs. You aren't Saved unless you specifically ask Jesus into your heart. The only requirement for a good husband was that he has asked Jesus into his heart. You don't have to worry about discussing things like financial plans, children, or relationship needs before you get married because hell, whenever things that like arise you can pray about it, and Jesus will tell you what to do. You know that eating disorder you had in High School? Just "give it to god" and it will go away.
S married a Christian guy from the Sorority Church. They moved many miles away after college to a place where her Husband has a job and where she can go to graduate school to get her masters in counseling.
The third wash cycle is: Psyco Camp complete with Psyco Drugs. Away from the Sorority Church and the Harem of Followers she was "friends" with, S gets lonely. Lonely in the way that her husband is gone on trips for work 80% of the year, Lonely in the way that the Female Harem is gone, and Lonely in the way that everyone is when they move far away to a new city. But in Psyco Camp where she is being trained, she names her Loneliness: Manic Depression. She sees a doctor who gives her so much medicine (Psyco Drugs) that when she is taking it as prescribed she passes out and hits her head on the bath tub. She goes to the emergency room all the time now that she is in the new city far away. S is always having accidents. She starts smoking cigarettes. With five years now between the present and the Sorority Church she tells me that she maybe was brainwashed (at that time.) Praying looses its magic. She is taking tons of Psyco Drugs. My dad says to me: "I warned my kids about the illegal drugs, but didn't think to warn them about the legal ones." I have the feeling that her starvation is a result of her drowning her unhappiness in Psyco Drugs rather than an eating disorder. My dad says that her brain would work better if she wasn't so skinny.
I am not sure what the answer is.
Is there such a thing as professional help for a Serial Follower?
*Please note that I believe in Psyco Drugs when used properly. However sometimes they are used without really helping the patient. I judge this to be one of those times.*
I need to explain more of the story.
In this post, Sister = S.
The root of the problem is not that my sister is too skinny, but rather that she is a Follower. We are all followers to some extent, but she is a Follower in the most extreme of ways. She Follows to the point of becoming brainwashed. She is 27, and so far I can count 3 wash cycles each of which last years.
The first wash started in High School. S was popular. The popular group was her group. You have to be somewhat brainwashed to be popular in high school. I guess I haven't read much about this topic because it is one of the more socially acceptable ways to not think. Someone once said that religion isn't the opium of the people, fashion is. In high school she told me that I shouldn't let my date drive me home if he was drunk. That was good of her to tell me, and one of the signs that her mind wasn't totally mush.
When popular high school girls go to college they do one thing: Join Sororities. And that is what S did. Until she quit a year later to join what I call "the sorority church."
The second wash setting is: Fundamentalist Non-denominational Christian. The Sorority Church was on the edge of our college campus, and provided for all of a Follower's needs. You aren't Saved unless you specifically ask Jesus into your heart. The only requirement for a good husband was that he has asked Jesus into his heart. You don't have to worry about discussing things like financial plans, children, or relationship needs before you get married because hell, whenever things that like arise you can pray about it, and Jesus will tell you what to do. You know that eating disorder you had in High School? Just "give it to god" and it will go away.
S married a Christian guy from the Sorority Church. They moved many miles away after college to a place where her Husband has a job and where she can go to graduate school to get her masters in counseling.
The third wash cycle is: Psyco Camp complete with Psyco Drugs. Away from the Sorority Church and the Harem of Followers she was "friends" with, S gets lonely. Lonely in the way that her husband is gone on trips for work 80% of the year, Lonely in the way that the Female Harem is gone, and Lonely in the way that everyone is when they move far away to a new city. But in Psyco Camp where she is being trained, she names her Loneliness: Manic Depression. She sees a doctor who gives her so much medicine (Psyco Drugs) that when she is taking it as prescribed she passes out and hits her head on the bath tub. She goes to the emergency room all the time now that she is in the new city far away. S is always having accidents. She starts smoking cigarettes. With five years now between the present and the Sorority Church she tells me that she maybe was brainwashed (at that time.) Praying looses its magic. She is taking tons of Psyco Drugs. My dad says to me: "I warned my kids about the illegal drugs, but didn't think to warn them about the legal ones." I have the feeling that her starvation is a result of her drowning her unhappiness in Psyco Drugs rather than an eating disorder. My dad says that her brain would work better if she wasn't so skinny.
I am not sure what the answer is.
Is there such a thing as professional help for a Serial Follower?
*Please note that I believe in Psyco Drugs when used properly. However sometimes they are used without really helping the patient. I judge this to be one of those times.*
Monday, August 18, 2008
Starving American Children
Skuh:
Nice lists. I noticed when you gave me a shout out on your personal blog... but didn't comment there for fear of losing my secret identity.
As for where to live--you touch on this in your next post--it is important to live where going outside is pleasurable. I vote for TN, but what do I know? I love America, so I couldn't possibly suggest that you go to Germany.
----
I saw my sister for the first time since my wedding. She has become a starving African child. Her bones stick out through her clothing and her face has changed into a skull with moist eyes and giant teeth. I talked to my dad about her. She is incredibly lonely. And when people try to help her, she reaches out and strangles them.
I am not sure what the answer is. She isn't like me. She has always been lost and prone to make poor decisions. It is hard for my parents to see her in such an obvious state of distress.
Nice lists. I noticed when you gave me a shout out on your personal blog... but didn't comment there for fear of losing my secret identity.
As for where to live--you touch on this in your next post--it is important to live where going outside is pleasurable. I vote for TN, but what do I know? I love America, so I couldn't possibly suggest that you go to Germany.
----
I saw my sister for the first time since my wedding. She has become a starving African child. Her bones stick out through her clothing and her face has changed into a skull with moist eyes and giant teeth. I talked to my dad about her. She is incredibly lonely. And when people try to help her, she reaches out and strangles them.
I am not sure what the answer is. She isn't like me. She has always been lost and prone to make poor decisions. It is hard for my parents to see her in such an obvious state of distress.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Goin' to Yankee Land
I am going on vacation tomorrow. Well, I'm going to a family reunion. It isn't quite the same as a beach vacation but I am looking forward to it for one reason: It is not WORK.
I am happy to have a day off, even if that day is spent sitting in an airport reading a book for 5 hours waiting for a delayed flight.
We are going to my grandparent's house, and I enjoy going there because I know what to expect. The truth is: it might be a stressful trip. But I guess I am welcoming of the stress because familial stress is still different from work.
I am happy to have a day off, even if that day is spent sitting in an airport reading a book for 5 hours waiting for a delayed flight.
We are going to my grandparent's house, and I enjoy going there because I know what to expect. The truth is: it might be a stressful trip. But I guess I am welcoming of the stress because familial stress is still different from work.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Clint Eastwood is as much a part of our family as my out-law aunt
"Family" as a topic was not always peaking my interest. For young Fermi, life was family with a side of school. And at that time I was interested in relationships. I was afraid of divorce. I needed to know how to have a good relationship and not get divorced. Looking back now, I'm not sure where my divorce obsession came from other than the fact that I found it hard to trust people in general add my interest in relationships and you get divorce, betrayal, and cheating spouses.
Some time later, I am married to an incredible man who is my one, and when I think of the future it is of us with toddlers and then as old grandparents, and I think: He will most probably die first. Fuck.
Now my interest lies in family, specifically of the sort that you do not choose: Mothers, Fathers, Aunts, Uncles, Sisters, Brothers, Cousins, and Grandparents. Families and extended families interest me now because they are so different. Generally I see individual human beings as mostly being the same, but (biological) Families are a situation where there is a small pool of DNA that the individuals share. With this come tendencies, and tendencies can be influenced by environment so that you as an individual are "different" with your family (than with a group of randomly selected people) because their predispositions to certain behaviors tend to highlight and enhance those same inclinations in yourself.
---
I mention this because tomorrow is the memorial service for my dead grandmother. I am going to see Aunts and Uncles and Cousins that I haven't seen in 8 years. I don't think I saw my (now dead) grandmother in the past eight years either. This side of my family is an anti-social bunch. I type that with a smile because even though I am looking forward to seeing these people, it seems perfectly normal for me to not see them very often.
This is the first time that my husband will be meeting most of them. Surprises are not my favorite things, so I tried to warn him about what it will be like. In this family we call the people who are married to the siblings, "the out-laws." And this is a perfectly accepted and embraced term. Looking back now, I believe the term origin came from the mix of "in-laws" with our usual activity of watching old Clint Eastwood films together. Do you feel lucky, punk?
One of the out-laws doesn't shave her legs, smokes, is a bit overweight, and is somewhat loud and abrasive. I like her alot, but I still cannot get over the fact that she doesn't shave her legs.
Some time later, I am married to an incredible man who is my one, and when I think of the future it is of us with toddlers and then as old grandparents, and I think: He will most probably die first. Fuck.
Now my interest lies in family, specifically of the sort that you do not choose: Mothers, Fathers, Aunts, Uncles, Sisters, Brothers, Cousins, and Grandparents. Families and extended families interest me now because they are so different. Generally I see individual human beings as mostly being the same, but (biological) Families are a situation where there is a small pool of DNA that the individuals share. With this come tendencies, and tendencies can be influenced by environment so that you as an individual are "different" with your family (than with a group of randomly selected people) because their predispositions to certain behaviors tend to highlight and enhance those same inclinations in yourself.
---
I mention this because tomorrow is the memorial service for my dead grandmother. I am going to see Aunts and Uncles and Cousins that I haven't seen in 8 years. I don't think I saw my (now dead) grandmother in the past eight years either. This side of my family is an anti-social bunch. I type that with a smile because even though I am looking forward to seeing these people, it seems perfectly normal for me to not see them very often.
This is the first time that my husband will be meeting most of them. Surprises are not my favorite things, so I tried to warn him about what it will be like. In this family we call the people who are married to the siblings, "the out-laws." And this is a perfectly accepted and embraced term. Looking back now, I believe the term origin came from the mix of "in-laws" with our usual activity of watching old Clint Eastwood films together. Do you feel lucky, punk?
One of the out-laws doesn't shave her legs, smokes, is a bit overweight, and is somewhat loud and abrasive. I like her alot, but I still cannot get over the fact that she doesn't shave her legs.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Mommy Porn
Can you tell that Jips is out of town from how often I have posted today?
heh.
I just read this: mommy porn. Check it out. I loved it mainly because I know people are different and not everyone wants to stay home with their kids. At the same time, some people are totally loving and patient and want to stay at home with the young'uns.
I also hate celebs. And cosmo. Maybe I don't hate those things. Let's say I just am not the type of person to get anything out of celebrities or cosmopolitan magazines. Maybe I get something from cosmo, On the weeks I read it I have more sex than the weeks when I read science blogs. That's obvious though: If I am prompted to think about sex I will have it more often.
I bring up celebrities because of the mommy porn link (above), and why the hell do I get cosmo? Well, mycokerewards.com has shittier than ever prizes now so I just signed up for all of these magazines that I can get for free. Should I order GQ? Should I? Popular mechanics? Magazines seem like such a waste of time, especially since they are from the corporate world with all of the truthless editing.
Reading blogs on-line that are not edited by big corporations trying to sell something I find to be much more enjoyable. Which brings us to the MOMMY PORN link. I love it because it is truthful. And because I have this elaborate plan of how I will be a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) for 5-7 years and then go back to work. So what are your plans? Kids? No Kids? SAHM? working mom? How did your nanny/housekeeper thing work when you were growing up, Novella? Did the rest of you kids have SAHMs? Do you think you can do it all?
heh.
I just read this: mommy porn. Check it out. I loved it mainly because I know people are different and not everyone wants to stay home with their kids. At the same time, some people are totally loving and patient and want to stay at home with the young'uns.
I also hate celebs. And cosmo. Maybe I don't hate those things. Let's say I just am not the type of person to get anything out of celebrities or cosmopolitan magazines. Maybe I get something from cosmo, On the weeks I read it I have more sex than the weeks when I read science blogs. That's obvious though: If I am prompted to think about sex I will have it more often.
I bring up celebrities because of the mommy porn link (above), and why the hell do I get cosmo? Well, mycokerewards.com has shittier than ever prizes now so I just signed up for all of these magazines that I can get for free. Should I order GQ? Should I? Popular mechanics? Magazines seem like such a waste of time, especially since they are from the corporate world with all of the truthless editing.
Reading blogs on-line that are not edited by big corporations trying to sell something I find to be much more enjoyable. Which brings us to the MOMMY PORN link. I love it because it is truthful. And because I have this elaborate plan of how I will be a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) for 5-7 years and then go back to work. So what are your plans? Kids? No Kids? SAHM? working mom? How did your nanny/housekeeper thing work when you were growing up, Novella? Did the rest of you kids have SAHMs? Do you think you can do it all?
Sunday, June 8, 2008
1930's Wife
I think it is easier to be a husband than a wife in the 1930's.
Take the Test.
*Please Note: for both tests, I just used "significant other" instead of husband or wife*
Take the Test.
*Please Note: for both tests, I just used "significant other" instead of husband or wife*
 | 22 As a 1930s wife, I am |
 | 88 As a 1930s husband, I am |
Monday, June 2, 2008
too close to home
As Gayla just wrote, I invited 2 more girls to our blog. Gayla and someone else. Peachbone knows who. She just needs to send me her gmail alias and we will be set.
Peachbone and I have talked on the phone twice I think in the past week. This is kind of a big deal for me because I don't normally talk on the phone at all. But talking to Peach was really enjoyable. I guess it just means that I had some kick ass friends in college. And then I moved, and I guess I have friends here, maybe I don't prioritize spending time with them. Maybe I should.
That leads me into something my mom and I talked about... about moving far away from your family or staying close to home. I am the offspring of a "move far away" couple, and now I am also leading a "move far away" life. Some things are awesome about moving far away: I have met some incredible people. I guess it is my work that puts a damper on things. I can't really enjoy people like I did in college because I am always so busy, and now I also have other responsibilities like dogs and a husband.
I guess staying close to home is good if you like your parents and consider them to be decent people. Then when you reproduce, they can help you with taking care of the baby. Also you have a relationship that you can already trust.
Growing up in a "move far away" family, made me think that was the norm. And now, I look around and see so many people that stay close to home, it surprises me, I guess.
Peachbone and I have talked on the phone twice I think in the past week. This is kind of a big deal for me because I don't normally talk on the phone at all. But talking to Peach was really enjoyable. I guess it just means that I had some kick ass friends in college. And then I moved, and I guess I have friends here, maybe I don't prioritize spending time with them. Maybe I should.
That leads me into something my mom and I talked about... about moving far away from your family or staying close to home. I am the offspring of a "move far away" couple, and now I am also leading a "move far away" life. Some things are awesome about moving far away: I have met some incredible people. I guess it is my work that puts a damper on things. I can't really enjoy people like I did in college because I am always so busy, and now I also have other responsibilities like dogs and a husband.
I guess staying close to home is good if you like your parents and consider them to be decent people. Then when you reproduce, they can help you with taking care of the baby. Also you have a relationship that you can already trust.
Growing up in a "move far away" family, made me think that was the norm. And now, I look around and see so many people that stay close to home, it surprises me, I guess.
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