Defriended

Normally, I am not too worried by whatever goes on in the amazing world of the internet.  I get in a debate over politics here and there, but mostly I sit on my hands and try to take whatever I see with a grain of salt.  Facebook is a wonderful way to keep in touch with everybody I’ve known over the years.

A month or two ago, though, I wanted to check on a friend who has some exciting things happening soon, so I popped over to their profile to see what’s new…and I’ve apparently been defriended.

I decided maybe something had gone screwy with Facebook and thought I’d check their blog…which had been deleted.

I can’t get it out of my brain.  I worry something has happened to them, but they’re still friends with some of our mutual friends.  I worry that I’ve done something to make them mad, but I don’t know how to broach the topic without sounding all crazy-social-media-stalker.  They’re not someone I usually socialize with, but I had some ideas for a project that would have meant seeing each other more often…and now I worry that approaching anyone else with the same idea would scare them away too.

One of the hardest things about having my best friend, Kristi, away in Africa with the Peace Corps (while I’m mentioning her, go read her amazing blog) is that I’ve had to forcibly expand my social circle.  She was one of the few people I was able to hang with during the day, since most of my friends are working and thus only available in the evenings, when I have to stay home with the baby.  And this defriending thing has totally shaken my confidence.  I like to think I am a pretty gregarious and likeable person, but now I keep asking myself – does this person REALLY like me, or are they pretending?

Just Two Moms

I was sitting on the bench in our apartment’s playground area when she showed up, her daughter in the stroller and her son on his bike.  She and I locked eyes across the playground and she shyly pushed the stroller towards me.  She was covered, head to toe, in black, all of her face but her eyes concealed in the loose, modest dress.

“Hi. Your baby – she one month?” she asked in halting English.

“Two, actually,” I replied.  “And yours?”

“She eight month,” she smiled proudly.  “What is she name?”

“Jade.  Like the jewel,” I explained.

“Beautiful.  My is Tereem. Is mean ‘respectful’.”

She made a bottle of formula (which at first surprised me, but when I thought about it, public breastfeeding would be a major no-no for such a modest woman) and fed her daughter while we made small talk.  She asked if I worked, and seemed pleased that I was a stay at home mother.  “Babysitter is not mother,” she stated approvingly.  She asked if I was American, and told me she was from Pakistan.  I told her how I would like to visit that part of the world someday.

“Even with bombs and killing?” she asked, a little surprised by my statement.

“I think we should see as much of the world as we can. We are better people for it.”

She looked at me long and hard, and smiled.

“I think you are different from many American women.”

We talked a few more minutes, until Mike came home and I left, not wanting to make her uncomfortable in the presence of a man she didn’t know.  But it was a really pleasant little conversation, and that last statement – “I think you are different from many American women” – well, I think it was about the nicest thing someone’s said to me in a long time.

Change is coming

My goodness, it’s been a while.  I could spend a long bit of time recounting my adventures since last we met, but since most all of you follow my shenanigans on Facebook, I won’t feel guilty about skipping the recap.

Life is busy! Between temp jobs, doctor’s appointments, and the odd escape to Portland, I’ve been busy…and it doesn’t look like things are going to slow down anytime soon.  My birthday’s coming up on Tuesday, then Christmas, then a baby shower, and then, my little gal is coming into the world.  At that point, life pretty much sets off at a full gallop, so I wonder what will change.

Change is one of those things that I used to dread, but these days, I am finding I’m more accepting of it than ever before.  Perhaps it’s Mommy-brain, reminding me that life is completely unpredictable with a little one around, or maybe I’ve just grown used to the idea that change is the only constant in adult life.

As a kid, it seemed like constancy was the order of the day – life took FOREVER to change, but when it did, although I might have anticipated it, something about it just wasn’t…right.  The first few days of summer vacation were wonderful, but after that, I did begin to long for school’s routines and regimens.  Two weeks after school started, though, I wished that vacation were back already.  It didn’t matter what the previous routine had been, it seemed infinitely better than what had just begun.

These days, I rather enjoy the fact that each day is different from the previous. Some days I’m out at a client site, working.  Others, I’m home, knitting and cleaning and enjoying my solitude.  The weekends, when I get to spend all day with Mike, are the best of all, but that’s pretty much par for the course, right?  And I’ve been trying some new hobbies and experimenting in the kitchen.

I’m embracing change…and that seems like a pretty good thing for a mommy-to-be.

Filet of Sole/Soul

It’s been a while since I updated, but I’ve been concocting this post in my brain, trying to decide how best to phrase these words.

To start with – wow, it’s been a heck of a summer, politically speaking, no?  At least the whole month of August with all the town hall meetings and so much anger and frustration, and lately with President Obama’s speeches about school and health care.  For me, things got pretty interesting at one point too – I was given a very sharp reminder of the fact that the internet is inherently a public place, not a private one.  I made a very poor judgment by exaggerating a situation in recounting it, and one of the parties to that situation caught wind of my tale and did NOT take kindly to it.

Definitely an “open mouth, insert foot” moment for me.

But I was thinking a lot lately about the power of words, and, perhaps more importantly, the intent behind words that gives them their power.  “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God, ” I guess the scripture goes, which further reinforces that as long as they have existed, words have had significant power over us.  Words are more than sounds – they are concepts, oralized and codified as a way to ensure that the proper information and motives were conveyed from one person to another.

So I have to wonder, what is the purpose of so much of the partisan rancor of late?  And I don’t direct my question at one particular party – it’s offensive to see that both sides have been carefully selecting their words so that the reputation of their opponents is tarnished in the eyes of the public.  It seems that, rather than the promised bipartisan cooperation, we have chosen the lower road of planting our feet in the sand, thumbing our noses at each other, and declaring, “No Compromise!!! And your mother’s a whore besides!”

I think it’s one thing to stand firm on an issue that you’re passionate about.  I’ll be honest – I think the health care situation in this country is pitiful, and I support a public option so long as it remains just that – an option.  But I think it’s truly another thing altogether for liberals to try and shame conservatives into passing the legislation, and for conservatives to fearmonger and lie about what the legislation truly says.  And mocking people like those who say, “Keep the government out of my Medicare” – laughing at them because they don’t understand how the system works – does nothing for anybody.  It breeds resentment and even more partisanship.

And again, the intent of all this partisanship.  I’m sure that those who participate in this ping pong battle of zingers and one-liners feel that the intent of their words and actions is to make their voices heard and change minds and hearts.  But I have to wonder – is that the real intent?  Or is it simply to make yourselves feel clever and superior?  What does that say about you? Certainly not that you are an individual who is confident in yourself and your beliefs.  More than likely, you aren’t really that sure of what you believe, and so you must tear others down in order to keep your confidence bolstered.

I have my beliefs, and I will hold to them.  But I also respect that you have your beliefs.  When we have to find the happy medium, I hope we do just that – find a compromise that respects our mutual intent to improve the situation, not win debate trophies.

Pitiful

I don’t usually choose to blog about things like this, but the whole situation with a friend’s mother-in-law has really incensed me.

Don’t get me wrong – I love the website Passive Aggressive Notes, but if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s passive-aggressive behavior.  I try to hold myself to the standard of letting people know when they upset me – marriage has really taught me that lesson – because it just seems like such a waste of energy otherwise.  Why spend three weeks holding a grudge when you can have one ten minute awkward conversation and get over it?

In high school and college, I made a distinct effort to have a no-drama existence, which was made much easier by a lack of romantic relationships.  In high school you’re dramatic by nature, so why add to it by choice? Sure, I dated a few guys, but they were always low-key, unlike some of the winners with which various friends chose to fraternize.  In general, I tried to stay out, unless I felt the friend’s physical or mental safety was at risk.

So it just completely knocks me off my feet when I see grown adults (unfortunately, more often than not, women) who choose to pull passive-aggressive behavior as a way of biting their thumb at the people who irk them.  I have a theory that women of a certain age, from a certain time in history, use these tactics because they were taught to be less direct – to beat around the bush in order to make their voices heard.  Given that there are plenty of women of the same age group that don’t act in such a manner, my theory is probably riddled with holes, but…that’s why it’s a theory and not a fact.

My friend’s husband finally chose to publicly address his relatives about their behavior, and he described the situation as ” passed through ridiculous and firmly into pitiful”.  I couldn’t agree more.

How pitiful that people who are family felt they couldn’t directly address their concerns (probably because they already knew they were ludicrous and that their behavior was childish at best).

How pitiful that you feel so threatened by your child’s wife that you take every opportunity to scorn her, and turn up your nose at her every attempt to smooth the troubled waters.

How pitiful that a person can think of themselves as the center of the universe.

How pitiful that you’re using your own petty grievances to ruin your chances of ever having any kind of meaningful relationship with your grandchildren.  You will regret this in years to come.

God strike me down if I ever exhibit this kind of pitiful behavior.

Rough Times

I’m having a really tough time dealing with this job hunt lately.  I applied for one of the few positions that I was a) qualified for, and b) excited to apply for, and after two interviews, I have heard nothing back.  A week and a half later, I’m giving up, but I will send one last email to double check.  I’m working on applying for a few other positions, but on the whole, things aren’t going well, and it’s frustrating and depressing.

I had a long lunch yesterday with Kristi, a friend from undergrad who moved to the area for graduate school.  We talked about the similar situations we’ve found ourselves in, and realized a couple of demons that we have and need to exorcise.  Both of us have tended to be high-achievers, both in school and the few jobs we’ve held over the years.  We learn quickly, try our hardest, and in general exceed the expectations of our superiors.  This is not the problem.  The problem is this – nothing is that much of a challenge, once my foot is in the door.

Now, getting said foot in said door, there’s the rub.  Challenges intimidate me, because most of my successes have fallen into my lap.  The second I have to work for something, it becomes less desirable and I wonder if it’s the right thing to do.  I can tell you that this blog has been a challenge for me, because writing is something I often do at the muse’s whim – if the entry doesn’t flow  out of my keyboard, I’m liable to abandon it rather than plug away.  Likewise, knitting – if I get bored with a project, I am more likely to rip it out than plug away and just finish the darn thing.  (This may explain why I still have skeins of yarn in my stash that were purchased before I moved to Virginia – about four years ago.)

I’ve sat here at the desk and plugged away at this post because I want to make a point to myself.  Not everything easy is the best choice, and not everything is going to come easily to me.  I need to remember this daily, and continue to push myself to find work – I will find something soon, and it will be what I need now, even if it isn’t my forever job.

Teacher’s Pet

I went out today and purchased a piece of clothing that not only was grossly overpriced, but would only be worn for a couple of hours for one day this spring and never leave the closet again.

…Nope, I already got married, remember?  This was my graduation robe, cap, and hood for my Masters graduation ceremony, which is coming up in about a month.  Very much looking forward to it, even though technically I still have one more class to finish over the summer.

Those who know me best realize that I am a people-pleaser. This is the curse of the middle child, carried out into perpetuity in families with more than two children.  In school it was obvious pretty early on that I was a fairly bright student, and probably because I recognized that “with great power comes great responsibility” (with deference to Stan Lee), I decided that I had to work hard in all my classes and be the best I could be.

Now that I’m finishing school, I’m finding that my people-pleasing tendencies aren’t always the best thing for me.  I have stuck with jobs that I hated, just because I disliked disappointing or upsetting my boss (never mind those same bosses “forgot” my vacation days or scheduled mandatory weekend meetings on my birthday).  I have built up relationships with professors that drove me bonkers, which have led to far too many hours spent nodding away while they rambled on to me about their philosophy of teaching.  It’s the same thing that’s kept me from leaving the church music gig that, while it pays well, is really not doing anything for my spiritual health.

The quest for me, now that school is done, is to transition myself from a people-pleaser to a “me-pleaser”.  And part of that quest has been my job search.  I’ve refused to apply for just any old job, although I know that eventually if nothing turns up, I’ll need to take a less than perfect position, at least for a while.  I need to find a job that makes me happy.  I’ve invested enough in the happiness of others.

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This post is part of The Madhouse, a weekly group blogging assignment based on a common theme.  Kate over at One More Thing has been  fantastic about putting this together every week, so you should check it out!