Squirrel in a Nuthouse

There used to be a time in the not so distant past that I believed I did not have any true passions. No subject or hobby cropped up to claim the reason for my existence, and I felt hollow, or somehow cheated. I tried many things, too. I tried horseback riding, but that got to be too expensive. I tried gardening, and at the rate I was killing green life, that got expensive, too. I also tried scrap booking, but I got bored. It was too tedious. I suppose for a while, watching television was on the verge of becoming a serious hobby, as well as surfing the Internet, but while they temporarily filled a void, they didn’t fulfill a passion.

I do, however, have some absurd obsession with real estate. I love houses. I am addicted to HGTV, especially the shows “Buy Me” and “House Hunters.” I have to admit that “Buy Me” is a regularly Tivo-ed show in our house, while “House Hunters” is a filler. I love looking at houses and cruising www.realtor.com like some kind of wanderlust land-shark, trying to guess how much they have risen in value, researching neighborhoods, and trying to figure out what is going on in the local economy that is causing specific sale trends in specific cities. I thought once upon a time that real estate was my passion, so I got my real estate agent license. It didn’t take long for me to discover my passion for real estate did not include the buying/selling process. Most real estate agents have bought into their own hype, and truly believe their reputation as being on the same rung as car salesmen has no merit. Having been on the inside, trust me, the reputation is well earned! It only takes one foul agent to sour a great deal.

So the real estate agent idea didn’t go as planned. Perhaps it would have if more folks in the business possessed a decent amount of integrity, but the dirtiness goes all the way up the chain, I’m afraid. Maybe someday I’ll get over my bitterness (sniff).

My other truly strange obsession is saving money and making money. I am definitely not a Spender. In fact, I am still trying to balance my spending habits and my saving habits so that I don’t turn into one of those people who is a mega-millionaire and then keels over from a heart attack before ever getting to enjoy their millions. This irked me for a long time. Most people have hobbies like video games and collecting things, or they reward themselves by getting a pedicure or massage. Me? My favorite reward is putting $50 into my savings account. If given the choice between buying a $30 sweater or putting that money in the bank, there would be no contest. Bet on me choosing to put that money in the bank and you will win every time. Fortunately, Stefan respects my very strange obsession and does not make fun of it. In fact, we have worked together for a good amount of time to set up our accounts so that both of our needs are met: we get to save a certain amount, and we get to spend a certain amount. This prevents me from becoming too miserly and dragging Stefan down into my miserable little hole, and it “forces” me to enjoy our earnings, which in turn enforces the idea that our money is working pretty darn hard at providing us with a very comfortable lifestyle.

I do know a few other truths about myself that have helped guide me on my quest to find my true passion. One of them is that I like to help people (hence the draw to help folks achieve the American Dream of home-ownership). I still have that draw, and it still pulls me on a string when I catch wind of someone who is in the home-buying or home-selling market.

The other truth is that I am somewhat of a natural born leader, but not a spotlight whore. I do like attention, but I don’t need to be the center of it for me to feel fulfilled. My natural born leadershipness is tempered by my desire to help others, thus making me a great behind-the-scenes person – someone who can calm others during times of crisis, yet can also step into the spotlight when necessary. I am the great woman behind every great man.

The leadership quality is what calls me to go out and research the heck out of things. I am never satisfied with the level of knowledge that I hold. With the advent of the Internet, my desire to research has grown to unwieldy levels. I am constantly reading, reading, and reading, looking to find that one nugget of information I didn’t have before. It is the one way I can help myself. The more educated I am, the better my choices will become.

Now all of the above has combined recently to reveal my true passion. Are you ready for this revelation? I believe I am an Economics junkie. The second definition by the American Heritage Dictionary seems to describe my interest pretty well: “Economic matters, especially relevant financial considerations.”

Now I wish I had paid more attention in Economics class in high school! Too bad most schools only devote one semester to it.

I never, ever pegged myself as having an interest in Economics. I always considered myself more “artsy” than that, and I always had a healthy fear of numbers, because they were too logical and cold, too calculating (pardon the pun – I couldn’t resist). But the study of the economy around us encompasses much more than the study of numbers or stock trades. I can focus my lens to cover a broad spectrum of the country and discuss the impact of the rising cost of health care, or I can narrow my focus to look in and see what might be the underlying cause(s) of a trendy issue. The answer very often is not what it appears to be on the glossy surface. There is so much going on underneath the covers that two seemingly unrelated events might actually be knotted together.

Anyhow, I’m really hot on this trail. I started waking up to all this about a year ago, and the more I read, the more fascinated I become. Like a squirrel in a nuthouse, I am on information overload. I’m not sure yet how all this will level out, or what direction I may ultimately take, but I sure am enjoying the ride. And I am sure I will be posting more about my findings as I go along, which may bore some of you, but fascinate others. My apologies to those who will get bored, and to those who share my sentiments, please feel free to comment and discuss!

Giving Credit where Credit is Due

Stefan says that I do not give myself enough credit for the things that I do. I suppose he is right, but it’s hard to view myself that way, because I feel like I do what I do naturally and without much thought. In other words, it doesn’t feel like a sacrifice. And why should I be given credit for something I do naturally and without sacrifice? To me, it’s the same as giving me credit for being five foot six with green eyes. I have no control over that. It just is what it is.

Now, if I were working three jobs so that we could save enough money to move somewhere like, oh, say, New York City, so my husband could pursue his lifelong dream that would be something for which I would deserve some credit.

I am not used to receiving credit, so it feels foreign to me when Stefan tells me to stop and look around and see all that I have done and achieved. He credits me for the roof over our head and all the amenities that go with it. He sees it as a huge thing I am doing for the good of us, while I see it as doing a no-brainer.

In fact, I often feel that I am not doing enough. I worry a lot about things that do not seem like they are in place. I hate to use the word “worry,” but it fits here. My worry runs like a ticker tape in the back of my head all the time, like those news tickers at the bottom of the television screen. It’s hard to ignore them. You have to force yourself to pay attention to the real story going on, and even if you manage to achieve that, you still see that ticker tempting you out of the corner of your eye. You are always aware of the ticker, even when you don’t want to be.

So this ticker has been running on autopilot in the back of my brain for many years. I kind of got used to it. For a long while, I managed to ignore it successfully. But ever since I started this contract gig almost a year and a half ago, I keep glancing at that ticker. Nobody else can see it except for me.

The ticker broadcasts nothing but bad news about the future. It tells me I am not making enough money, and that I am not saving enough money. It reminds me I have no health insurance. It tells me I am taking a gamble that I am not prepared to lose and that makes me very ill at ease.

Since this ticker has been broadcasting the same news for so long, I’ve become accustomed to my thoughts and feelings I get when I see it, and although I worry, I don’t give voice to my worries, because my brain tells me it’s all in my head. I should be happy with my successes in life. I’ve done well for myself and I continue to do so. So why do I feel uneasy and unable to achieve peace of mind?

I’ve been having this argument with myself for quite a while, and even those arguments have become a single thought, an automated thing I carry out every day. All this clanging happens at a subconscious level. Or so I thought.

What I didn’t know was that the fire alarm was going off, and although I was ignoring it, telling myself it was a false alarm, it was actually impacting my life. Stefan is used to asking me, “Are you okay?” because unbeknownst to me (thanks, Denial, for being such a close friend), I am most often distracted or I seem a little “off.” When I say I am all right, I am not lying. I am okay, at least as okay as someone can be who has gotten used to being on fire all the time and thinks the circumstances are normal.

As this contract draws to a close later this year, I have begun putting more focus on that ticker. I didn’t equate my ill feelings with the fact that I have been ignoring an innate need; that my generalized unhappiness was caused by me not giving voice to what was going across that ticker.

In a moment of “weakness” (and I use this term sarcastically, because I was not being weak; I was being strong; I was being weak by holding out this long), I let Stefan peak inside my head the other week. He clearly heard all the alarms and smoke was going everywhere. He couldn’t believe all that was going on in my head all the time, and he didn’t understand why I never mentioned it.

I never mentioned it because it had become so normal for me that I didn’t think anything of it. Either that, or since it’s on my mind all the time, I don’t realize that I am not verbalizing my thoughts (I think this is the guilt-side of me that I let prevent me from verbalizing when I should).

Well, all of that is about to change. Stefan took one look at what was causing the alarm, and rescued me. Although I view it as a huge sacrifice, he does not. He sees it as simply doing what you would do for someone you love. I’ve been doing the equivalent of saying, “Ow, my finger hurts,” once in passing, and then never mentioning it again. Meanwhile, my finger is swelling up and turning purple and hurts every day until one day, many weeks later, I say, “My finger still hurts” (of course, I wait until the pain becomes unbearable). So then Stefan goes to look at it and sees I have a huge sliver deeply embedded in my finger and he wonders how I dealt with the pain all that time.

It is time to pull out the sliver with the tweezers, while I look at him heroically. It hurts, yes, to pull that sliver out, but we both know we will feel so much better afterwards.

We are both consciously aware of what it says on that ticker, and it is not something to be ignored anymore. I simply must find permanent work. I will sleep better at night, knowing I am indispensable, and valuable enough for a company to invest in me. Sometimes I still try to fool myself into thinking it’s not that big of a deal, because I’m afraid of the pain I’m going to feel when it comes time to pull that sliver out. But we both know I will get better quickly after the big pinch. And the big pinch right now is facing the almost inevitable fact that we are most likely going to have to move in order for me to find permanent work.

I do not want to move. Rather, I wish we could just click our heels and be there already, completely skipping over the whole find a job, get myself out there, try to sell the house, try to find a house, try to move everything to the new place and get settled in part. I am scared because I’m still licking my wounds from the last move, and I don’t feel financially comfortable with moving, yet I know if I don’t do something soon, I’m going to be feeling a lot more pain.

If Stefan hadn’t been as observant and persistent as he is, I wouldn’t be writing this blog right now. I wonder when, if ever, I would have written it?

So Stefan is standing there, tweezers in hand, trembling a little because he does not like pain (nor being the cause of it), telling me, “It will be all right. We just have to get through this, and you’ll feel a lot better.” He is setting aside his fears and any squeamishness so I can get better and I am putting my trust in him that despite my wanting to ignore the alarms, he won’t let me anymore and that he will help me, because I’m afraid I’m going to feel awfully guilty. I’m not used to someone else making sacrifices for me and I know I’m going to feel guilty that my “need” is going to cause us much angst during the move process. Sometimes I feel so guilty it’s hard to breathe. But that’s just because I haven’t given myself, or my thoughts, much credit over the years.

It is also easy for me to start feeling guilty because I think, “If I had just said something a long time ago, we wouldn’t be in this mess right now!” And I start getting on my own case for being a slave to my own servitude nature, for not wanting to “make waves” and for not giving credence to my own needs.

This just goes to show how you think you know yourself, when in fact, you do not. I have made tremendous strides over the last couple of years and I am very proud of myself for the changes I have made. Obviously, there is still room for improvement! But I think whenever I start getting down on myself and start feeling guilty, I will remind myself of Stefan’s words, and force myself to credit where credit is due.

Being of Sound Mind and Body

It has been a week since the sudden, shocking death of Anna Nicole Smith (may she rest in peace). Surprisingly, I am still rattled by the whole thing, but I think that is because of all the hoopla that has continued since her passing. It has given me pause.

I have thought about creating a Living Will on and off throughout my lifetime, but I never got around to making one. However, after seeing all the back-and-forth fighting that is going on over Anna’s remains, and the legal talk about custody and parental rights, I have realized something: these fights go on all the time; we just don’t know or hear about them, since most of us are not in the public spotlight.

I really feel for Howard K. Stern. It is obvious to me that Anna was not close to her blood-family; her “real” family had nothing to do with blood-ties. This poor man has been through a lot with Anna, and now, in his deepest time of grief, he is being hounded and threatened by those who are trying to lay claim to what is his – what is rightfully his by heart ownership, but not necessarily legal ownership.

The law does not care about matters of the heart.

I have lived a good life so far, and I intend on living a good life for many decades to come. However, after seeing what Howard K. Stern is going through, I have come to realize that I cannot leave my wishes of a long life up to chance. In other words, should something terrible befall me, I wish that I already had a plan in place so that my grieving husband can grieve in peace. No one deserves to go through what Mr. Stern is going through, and if there’s anything I can do to prevent that from happening to those I love, then I am going to do it.

I started filling out a Living Will I found on an Internet site and almost instantly started feeling queasy. I had to answer questions regarding if I were in a terminal state, do I wish to have artificially administered food and water, and comfort care? Then I had to answer similar questions for the conditions of permanent coma and vegetative state. Let me tell you, this is not an exercise for the faint of heart! Being of sound mind and body, considering my death (which suddenly seemed palpable and inescapable) is very, very tough to do! And if that were not enough, I had to answer how I would like to proceed were it discovered I was pregnant when an above scenario befell me: do I wish to keep to the plan, or allow treatment until the pregnancy was fulfilled?

I eventually finished the Living Will, but there were some things that were not covered, and I wasn’t convinced that this Living Will was as complete as it could or should be. I don’t want any loopholes, you see. Plus, I had to pay for it, which I didn’t feel like doing, and then I would have had to have it notarized. That’s kind of a lot of work. Maybe I need to absorb more of the shock of realizing that as scary, scary, scary as it is; I need to have a Living Will. Or maybe these are all excuses because I am a chicken-butt.

But I have to get over my chicken-buttness, because the law does not care about matters of the heart.

It is a weird collision of worlds, when heart meets law. The law, by nature, has no heart. It cannot, or else it may succumb to being partial, and no amount of begging and pleading by the heart will persuade the law to see things differently. We have been given tools by the law so that our hearts can express themselves in a way the law can understand. However, those tools mean nothing if we do not use them. I guess I just have to figure out a way to shut my heart up until I can complete the Living Will.

Catch-up

Okay, it's been over a month since I've posted a blog, and that it simply unacceptable! So here's what has been going on...

January started out well, until I learned about a new contracting policy implemented by the fortune 50 company I currently contract for. In the past, contractors had to take a mandatory 4-month break from contracting for the company after the 2-year contract limit has been reached. Well, that has changed. Now, contractors are not allowed to come back, period. This is a huge, major setback for contractors. I have worked for several years to get this fortune 50 company listed on my resume, and they were known for bringing contractors back over and over again. And now all that is for nothing. And since they are a major employer in this town, it means a lot of available work is no longer available to me.

Naturally, we stepped up the job search. I'm tired of being an "almost" employee. I want the benefits. I want the commitment from a company. I want decent health insurance. What we found was that there are not a lot of permanent jobs in Richmond for the kind of work I do. But there are in Texas. And the cost of houses is half of what it is here. Now, we don't want to move. We want to settle down and put down roots, and we've just begun to do that here. Hopefully we can stay here, and if not, well we've found a place we think we'll really enjoy.

And now a word about Anna Nicole. I'm not going to bore you with details of her life, since we all know them at this point. What strikes me is the sobering reminder that you don't know what will become of the choices you make, and she paid a high, high price for a choice she made in her early twenties - a time most of us look back on and go, "wow, I made some dumb choices!" and we shake our heads, happy to be older and wiser. What gets me is that this could have happened to just about anyone. I've always secretly rooted for Anna Nicole; she had so much going for her. She just needed a little guidance, perhaps. Or perhaps not. But what she went through is way more than what most people ever face, and she fought to stay on top of it all, and I admire that. Still, I cannot blame her if she got tired, if she realized her life had created a life of its own, and it got the best of her. I can't say I would have done any better if I were in her shoes.

Hmmm, what else...Stefan is taking Chantix. It's a prescription medication that helps quit the smoking habit. It works by blocking the nicotine receptors in the brain while giving the person a dopamine boost. All other meds work by rationing nicotine in other forms than smoking - nicotine is the addictive substance. If a person has control over the habit but has a nicotine addiction, then patches and gum don't work. And that's where we are at now.

I think that is it! We are looking forward to a nice, romantic evening at home tomorrow evening, complete with a home-cooked meal and chocolate mousse and a sappy movie. I love being in love!

Happy Valentine's Day, my Precious Husband!

It's Not Personal

Okay, it’s soapbox time again!

A local art teacher was recently fired from his high school teaching position because of a YouTube video that depicted the art teacher doing what he does (and has done) in his spare time – make and sell original paintings.

The school board has known about the teacher’s “extra-curricular” activities for over two years and didn’t have an issue with it. Not until the YouTube video began circling throughout the school. Suddenly, the teacher found himself on paid administrative leave until the school board could come to a decision about what to do with him. The reason the school board gave for his eventual dismissal was not that they found the teacher’s exotic paintings to be of questionable moral substance, but because now that the students knew about this private detail of their teacher’s life, it was likely to cause disruptions in the class. Yet in another breath, the school board has been quoted as saying the teacher was dismissed because of “conduct unbecoming of a teacher.”

What kind of paintings could cause such a ruckus? The art teacher lathers his rear end and other parts with paint and then smears them upon a canvas. He wears a disguise, so as not to be recognized by his students on his website (should any of them stumble across it) and he uses a thinly disguised pseudonym under which he sells his art.

Now, I find it funny that all of a sudden, due to this YouTube video, this teacher gets the boot. I would assume that in this day and age of highspeed technology and all the “mature” news that teenagers seem to be subject matter experts on, that the paintings wouldn’t cause any more stir than a passing tabloid headline. Of course, upon first knowing this information, it’s going to cause a stir. But I believe that over a short period of time, students would most likely forget what the teacher does outside his classroom during his own time. It’s not like he has ever brought up the subject with his previous students; nor would he begin to do so now.

This is becoming a rather frightening trend: the dismissal of workers because of information found out about what they do during their personal time. I wonder how many folks on the school board have a drinking problem, or engage in some other kind of personal behavior that may be deemed morally questionable or R-rated or maybe even X-rated if the student body knew of it? Basically, what we are telling our children is that you can do whatever you like during your free time, but just be aware it may cost you your job should your co-workers find out!

What the school board decides is “conduct unbecoming of a teacher” can change on a daily basis as this new technology makes our personal lives more and more transparent. We’ve all done or said something that could be skewed as “unbecoming.” It’s called being human. But now there’s this open door that we need to watch out for. Our private acts may not be as private as we think. But if they don’t interfere with our work life, who cares? Unfortunately, the Internet is creating new windows into our private lives, and we are being judged for our choices, for what we choose to do when we are not on the clock. If we continue to fire people based on what they choose to do during their free time, virtually everyone will become unemployable.

I think this is yet again another example of how we are still experiencing the growing pains of this break-neck speed technology. I am hoping that this will turn into an opportunity to see all the colors of the rainbow and see that they are all good, instead of a moral war where we are afraid to be who we are meant to be.

OPI Nail Polish Update Part 2

Okay, so I've had some time to try out the new OPI products I bought. And I have to say, when combined, they do work well together. I can go about a week before any chipping occurs, if I wear a light-colored polish. Most of my OPI colors are dark red, and it seems the dark colors don't fare as well. Just like on a wall, the dark colors need extra coats and extra time to dry, and they never seem to dry hard and I think that's why the dark colors chip more easily.

Over the weekend, I couldn't resist buying this Barbie pink nail polish I saw at Walgreens, and I tried it out with the OPI Chip Skip and Start to Finish base coat/top coat. I didn't have much time to give the color to dry, as we were on our way out for New Year's. But it held up amazingly well. The next morning, after partying harder than I ever have, there were surprisingly no chips in the paint. Sadly, I had to remove my Barbie pink and throw on something more respectful for work.

So, I will have to collect some more OPI colors, preferably in a medium color range before I can give a final verdict. Woe is me!

OPI Nail Polish Update

A couple of months ago, I talked about my new find: OPI nail polish. It’s what is used in salons, and the colors, besides being rich and brilliant, also seem to be chip-proof, at least when applied at the salon.

I didn’t have as much luck on my own. Within a day or two of applying, or my worst record yet, a few hours, I noticed chipping. And because the colors are so bright and, well, colorful, the chips showed up that much more glaringly.

My most recent endeavor was to buy a nail strengthener by Sally Hansen that was specifically supposed to help with weak, peeling nails. I thought maybe my chip problem was because my nails tend to peel, and that if they peel, the polish peels off, too. I had two reasons for trying the Sally Hansen fortifier: one was to try to save money, and the other was because it was convenient to buy. I paid about $7 for the bottle of miracle no-peel formula. Sally Hansen can be found in any grocery store and any drugstore, while OPI can only be found at Trade Secret at the mall. I figured that if it worked, I would save both money and time. I applied it religiously for about two weeks. I used it alone, and I used it as a base and topcoat with OPI nail polish. And I didn’t notice a difference. My most recent and monumental failure happened Sunday. I did my nails Sunday afternoon, and by Sunday evening, the color had chipped so badly, I ended up removing all the polish and went to work Monday with naked nails.

So finally, last night, I broke down and I did what I have really wanted to do: buy myself some OPI products and use them together. I bought ChipSkip, which is a clear application, that when applied directly to clean, dry nails, is supposed to prevent chipping. I also bought their three-in-one base coat, nail strengthener, and topcoat. And, of course, I bought three new nail polish colors. It was a little pricey, coming to about $44, which qualified me for a free nail polish accessory bag, perfect for feeding my addiction. Although it seems like a lot to spend on nail polish, if it works, it will have paid for itself in less than two trips to the salon for a manicure and pedicure.

The first thing I did was apply the ChipSkip, which dried instantly on contact. And when I say instant, I mean instant! Then I applied one base coat and to my surprise, it dried very quickly. I applied two coats of color, waited a bit for them to dry, and then applied one top coat. I waited about an hour and half before putting my nails to the test: peeling price tags off purchases and wrapping presents. This simple task is what ruined my nails on Sunday. And guess what this time? No chipping! This morning, my nails look great. I don’t know how to explain it, but my nails have a different quality about them, almost as if I were wearing acrylic nails, but without the hefty salon price tag that comes with a manicure. If this really works, then I’m going to be an OPI girl for life. In addition, I will never, ever assume that other products can substitute for the real thing. It only makes sense that OPI products work best with other OPI products.

I will update again, when I notice my first chip. I promise I will update this time!

P.S. If you’re stumped for what to get me for Christmas, here’s a hint: OPI Nail Polish!