Half Baked, Twice as Good

What’s in a degree?

Elizabeth — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 20:31:55 +0000

Do you guys read Penelope Trunk? If not, you should. Someone told me about her a few years ago and I’ve been surprised at how much I’ve learned and discovered. She writes about careers and her experience in a bazillion different industries. (Plus she has Asperger’s and writes about living every day with that, which mainly interests me because of the many, many Asperger’s students I’ve had over the years.)

I only mention this because I’m interested in what her ideas are about education and her opinions about when and how to change jobs. Over the holidays, Brian – through a series of frightening days – was hired in a different department. He is working for the same company, but on a completely different side of the business. He likes it so far but has an incredible learning curve to overcome and feels like a fish out of water in this new place. Penelope Trunk says risk-taking is important, if not necessary, and that we’re better people for jumping into the deep in. I’m not so sure about that.

I did not get the job I applied for this fall. I wanted to be a full-time professor but the cookie crumbled a different way and now I’m doing the same job I’ve done for the last year and a half, plus teaching on the side. This time, though, I’m teaching a full-fledged, straight up, real live English class – not a remedial one. I don’t talk about my job here very much because, well, I read the Internet. I’m not that stupid. But I’ve been teaching this particular class for a week now and it’s refreshing to have students who already know some of what they’re learning in my class.

For the last 10 years I’ve faced classrooms full of students who have that same learning curve Brian does. It’s hard to show them that there’s a light at the end of the long tunnel, because many times I don’t even know that there is a light in the first place. It’s even harder to convince them that they’re capable of being good college students and that it’s worth their time.

But is it? Penelope Trunk says a graduate degree is essentially a waste of time. What does an MBA really get you now? If you’re competing with a 45 year-old senior manager with 20 years of experience, can you really beat him out with just your education? I don’t know the answer to this, but I do know that my master’s degree alone wasn’t enough to get me the job I wanted. Were there other factors? Absolutely. I feel sure of it.

So this semester will be a busy one, not unusual, but it will require more homework on my part and more thinking on my feet. Good practice for the future, since apparently my education didn’t teach me that.

ABC is actually not as easy as 123

Elizabeth — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 16:58:23 +0000

I wrote this a few nights before Christmas and, for some reason, it’s been sitting in my drafts folder. But I’m publishing it now because I felt this way and still do.

I miss her every single day of my life. I miss her when I pass by the cemetery. I miss her when I drive by her house. I miss her on her birthday, my birthday and most especially at Christmas.

When I was little I would go with them to Raleigh on the weekends to see the symphony. She taught piano, he loved piano and I was a student with some budding talent. We would watch and listen from good seats, looking at the gleam of the horns, straining to hear the sound of the woodwinds. I loved it, though sometimes I found it boring. I never found The Nutcracker boring, however. I loved getting dressed up every year and going several times. My Girl Scout troop would go and then my grandmother would always take me. “Sit to the left of the stage,” she would say. “You have to be able to see the hands of the pianist, even if they’re in the orchestra pit. If you can’t see the hand positions you can’t understand the movements.” My grandfather would watch, mesmerized, as the musicians played their instruments feverishly and ballerinas twirled around candy canes and Christmas trees.

Tonight on public television there was a Russian version of The Nutcracker, which I watched beginning to end. And then I found the Raleigh handbell choir performing holiday music, which included pieces from the ballet as well. I played handbells as a child, and I will never forget our recitals in church, getting dressed up again in my Christmas dress, running down the halls by the Sunday school classrooms, waiting for my turn to walk into the sanctuary, play my alto bells or my flute or the piano, and see them smiling from their pew in the middle. She would close her eyes and bob her chin a little, nodding her head sometimes to indicate emphasis, or to help me remember something she had told me to do. Lift your wrists a little more. Start soft and then build to a crescendo. Not too fast! If you rush I will know it.

I can’t help but sob right now thinking about her. My heart aches and my stomach hurts and I can’t see through my tears. I want them back so badly.

What the hell, Santa?

Elizabeth — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 13:25:01 +0000

I’m in a funk, y’all. It’s not a Bah Humbug-y kind of funk, it’s just a fierce wish that Christmas vacation will get here TOMORROW DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN kind of funk.

There’s frustration in the air around here with everyone I know. We’re frustrated that deadlines are passed or attention isn’t paid to them, we’re frustrated that cars or houses need to be repaired, and we’re frustrated that extra bills are coming due right here at Christmas.

What’s a frustrated girl to do? I don’t know, y’all. In the last few days I’ve been trying to come up with some low-cost or free ways to relieve stress and have a little fun while I’m doing it. So far I’ve bought HBO, but that didn’t really up my jolly factor to be honest.

Every night when I go to bed, I think “I hope tomorrow will be better,” and y’all, it’s just not. The end of any semester is always hectic, but this one is particularly so. Reports are due, papers are late, grades haven’t been put in and I don’t have the energy to work when I get home – even though home is the only quiet place I have. Sort of.

Wow, this is depressing.

Next Thursday I will start my holiday vacation and it will run until January 3^rd. We haven’t been out of town all year long, so I’m hoping that somewhere in that 2 week span I can scrounge up some extras to plan a little overnight stay somewhere. I will also be spending my break moving my house back around into some kind of order that doesn’t suffocate me. (Two years ago we rearranged to accommodate my business, but we didn’t do it right, and now we’re stuck under piles and piles of heavy, too-big furniture with nowhere to move and no way to fix it.)

So there you have it. I’m crabby, I’m tired, I’m at a loss for how to get happy again and I’m about to spend the last $1000 I have on car repairs. Santa, oh dear sweet Santa, WHERE ARE YOU?!

Poison

Elizabeth — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 04:45:46 +0000

I read your blog for a while. I looked at your pictures, giggled at your funny stories about other people and then I GOT INTO IT. You had really great things to say and a lot of ideas that were thought-provoking. You spurred a lot of people on to try new things in their own writing styles on their own blogs; you pushed the envelope, except not really. You pushed it in the not-so-gentle way people do when they aren’t familiar with how to do it, like making new friends by handing out your grandmother’s leftover Oxycodone and then your friends are hooked and you’re in trouble and you’re lying and stealing your way out of this make-new-friends scenario.

Yup. That’s about how it went.

I’m a joiner most of the time. I like to get on a bandwagon but – a BIG BUT right here – I’m pretty good at jumping off at just the right time. Just before it gets superbad on the wagon, just before there’s mutiny and starvation, I jump off and congratulate myself for avoiding catastrophe.

And so now we have a bandwagon and some Oxy. TRY TO KEEP UP.

I’m disappointed in the blogosphere this year, to be quite frank. I was so pumped to head to Blissdom in February, BlogHer in August, and The Blathering in October. I really had it all set up in my mind for how it would go: I would finally FINALLY meet IN PERSON all these great people I’ve known for a while and we would realize that we were twins unfortunately separated at birth but who have prospered and thrived in our own ways and have now come back together to create this unstoppable team of writing and design.

So yeah. Maybe I set the bar a little high.

Anyway, I’m disappointed that I didn’t get to go to any of these events this past year, but I’m more upset at the relationships that have gone sour among bloggers and writers and designers I respect. I’m embarrassed that the wagon I jumped upon had an underlying message of, mostly, hate. I hate that I lost some time I could have spent reading and researching more things I’m interested in rather than analyzing and discussing situations and relationships I have no business knowing about.

In short: I’m mad that I trusted and respected a writer who does some low-down, dirty stuff to other people.

So, you know, it’s the usual.

Elizabeth — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 19:31:09 +0000

Update: I don’t think I embarrassed myself, but I did say the same thing over and over and over. I won’t know anything until mid-December so until then I’m just drinking heavily to celebrate the fact that the interview is D-O-N-E.

Okay, so it’s glaringly obvious I haven’t posted in here in a month or so. The lowdown: I have a job interview tomorrow, I’m trying to juggling my current job with my other job (my small business) and I’m bouncing balls all over the place. It’s also that season where there are parties and obligations that, though my shrink tells me differently, I absolutely cannot say no to. Also, BB and I have been sick – that icky sick where you don’t know what you have, you’re not gonna waste a $65 copay to find out, and if you could just sleep uninterrupted for 4 days, you’d be fine.

Incidentally, you all are fabulous. I have no specific reason for that, other than to give you a compliment so you’ll continue to read. Wish me good vibes for tomorrow at 10am, when I will surely put my foot in my mouth over and over, only answer half the interview questions and be laughed at after I leave the room. Yes, I’ve done this before.

TRUST ME.

Caution: Accent vlog. View at your own risk.

Elizabeth — Sun, 16 Oct 2011 21:01:50 +0000

This is the accent vlog that’s going around amongst those Blatherers that leave for Austin next weekend. I did it, I’m not especially proud of it since it’s my first foray into the world of the webcam and I’m doing this weird stage whisper thing because Brian’s asleep. And…full disclosure: I had already taken my Ambien before I started this which accounts for the slightly groggy, Valley Girl-esque vibe. Although upon further review, this is boring as ALL HELL. I feel so much sorrier for the students in my classes now. Plus, the video is super grainy and why? I’ll be damned if I know. I gotta say: watching yourself on camera is JUST SO DISTURBING.

The notes for what I’m talking about are below. Apparently I forgot the part where I’m supposed to talk about where I’m from and why I pronounce things the way I do. I’m from right outside of Raleigh, NC, have lived in North Carolina mostly all my life, and that accounts for everything that comes out of my mouth, I’m afraid.

Say the following words:
Aunt, route, wash, oil, theatre, iron, salmon, caramel, fire, water, sure, data, ruin, crayon, toilet, New Orleans, pecan, both, again, probably, spitting image, Alabama, lawyer, coupon, mayonnaise, syrup, pajamas, caught
And answer these questions:
What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?
What is the bug that curls into a ball when you touch it?
What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?
What do you call gym shoes?
What do you say to address a group of people?
What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped body and extremely long legs?
What do you call your grandparents?
What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry groceries at the supermarket?
What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?
What is the thing you use to change the TV channel?

Here goes. Maybe just laugh quietly to yourself, ok?

Elusive Sleep, Part II

Elizabeth — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 02:16:07 +0000

For the past few weeks, maybe longer, I’ve been lying awake for HOURS trying to get to sleep. I’ve been taking Ambien for quite a while – not a secret – and it helps me stay asleep like a charm. But getting there, Y’ALL. It’s like…something really hard. I can’t think of anything right now.

Some nights I turn on Pandora and try to choose something soothing, but inevitably I either sing along to the songs, get annoyed with Pandora’s choices or just get annoyed in general that I’m having to listen to something. Other nights I try to meditate, but my mind OH HOW IT WANDERS. There have to be ways to quiet my mind at bedtime. Just before writing this I made a list of all the things I’m worried about or that weigh heavily on my thoughts. The plan, you see, is that this would take all those thoughts out of my head and deposit them somewhere else for safekeeping until tomorrow.

Not so much. That list has 19 things on it. NINETEEN. Granted, some of them I listed twice. Some of them are weirdo health things that are most likely anxiety induced but worry me just the same. Some of them are work related and some are holiday stuff. Yes, YES I AM ALREADY WORRIED ABOUT THE HOLIDAYS. Where will we spend Christmas? What am I getting everyone? Will there be enough money to go around for the entire family? What if there isn’t? What if I can’t convince family members that we should skip gifts this year and do something good for the planet and/or its people?

And then there’s the weird paranoia that I’m not supposed to talk about on the Internet but that has to do with…a word that rhymes with jerk. But not spelled that way, IF YOU GET MY CRAZY SUBTLE CLUES. Which leads me to think about my list of things I need to do tomorrow, and why not just worry about them now instead of waiting until the morning? If I think hard enough about it now surely the answer will come to me, yes? And if I consult my Google calendar 42 times in the next 15 minutes than surely I’ll be prepared for all my appointments tomorrow, yes?

Help me stop the madness, y’all. There’s a yoga class I want to join this week but I am the opposite of flexible, and I don’t have a mat and is it okay to wear pajamas to yoga? Because that’s not so much relaxing sounding in my head. And then I could take a hot shower but wet head in the bed? No way. Milk? I’ll just have to pee more. All the lights out for quiet time? Obviously you’re not listening.

And yes, before you ask, I consume caffeine. Two Coke Zeroes a day at max, and I try really hard to quit at noon. So the solution for tonight is to write it all down right here and hope for the best.

Wish me luck, y’all.

I went down to the river to pray

Elizabeth — Fri, 23 Sep 2011 13:00:08 +0000

Every day I cross the river that bisected our lives for so many years. Tonight, though, I cry tonight for the relationships and friendships that have fallen away. I have loved so many in my life, so hard and with a fervor that is rarely reciprocated. When I pray silently at night, I ask for strength and wisdom. I ask God to allow me to see things through others’ eyes, so that I may learn how to look at the world in a completely different way.

Tonight I prayed that you both were here, holding the other end of the telephone, whispering the words I so need to hear. I long for the time when I could hold the hands of either of you – so strong with age – and feel the skin that is the history of my skin.

The tears running down my cheeks tonight are stained with ink and shimmer, in dark contrast to the prayerful visions I have of the peaceful river dividing us. My heart is full with memories of so much pure unconditional love. Unless one day I have a child, I imagine few if any of those moments will return.

Distances – rivers, canyons, deserts, mountains – all separate me from ones I love dearly, that I ache to see when I feel like this. When my self-paranoia rises like a phoenix and towers over my mundane responsibilities, I need to touch the hand that feels familiar to me. I want to look into the eyes that really really know me. And most of all I want to know that the arms that hold me are arms that will always love me. They will love my flaws, my rambling stories and my dirty kitchen.

Every season, every equinox, spurs on the promise of new life. Each of us has made it across a tributary to another side of our river. New seasons bring new opportunities to love again, to look at love in a different light. We have a chance to start all over, this time with the crunch of leaves or chill in the air.

This time with the promise of unconditional love.

What I should be doing right now.

Elizabeth — Thu, 22 Sep 2011 12:12:28 +0000

At Ray LaMontagne Monday night in Cary

Right now:

1. There are about 42 half-written blog posts scattered on the desktops of three different computers.

2. I’m coming down off the high of having slept for almost EIGHT HOURS, Y’ALL.

3. One of my best and oldest friends has a brand spanking new baby girl and I am dying to get my hands on her.

4. There is the prospect of spending Thanksgiving (!) with one of my other oldest and best friends.

5. I am loving that I spent Monday night dancing and twirling with my brother.

6. Also loving that I spent all of last week and the beginning of this week celebrating my birthday.

7. (Which included wearing a crown and declaring it “birthday week.”)

8. There are piles and piles of paper on my desk, most of it written by students whose names I still do not know.

9. I need to make some tough choices for the fall, i.e. do I choose The Blathering, vacation with my husband, or a really quick trip to see the baby?

10. My wallet will not let me do anything I want to do; it will only make me do things I hate.

11. I am itching to go back to school but I can’t afford it and I don’t know what I would do once I got there.

12. I am relying on Coke Zero to be my everything.

How to look pretty this fall

Elizabeth — Thu, 08 Sep 2011 19:33:00 +0000

Ed. Note: The following guest post is generously provided by my favorite fashionista, Kathy. Be nice to her; she’s going to make you fabulous for fall.

Hello! I am Elizabeth’s friend Kathy. I have known Elizabeth since she began a career as a news media professional, a career she wisely ditched in favor of having a life and a reasonable amount of money. Congrats to Elizabeth for figuring this out only nine years before I did! My main problem with her these days is that I don’t see her nearly enough.

So, you know how Elizabeth comes here and opens up her heart and mind to us, so that we might feel less alone in our own struggles and learn to understand and accept each other as we are–as friends, and as brothers and sisters on this crazy spinning ball we call The Earth?

Well, I like outfits! It’s still pretty hot here in Raleigh all the time, and yet, all I can think about is Outfits in The Time of the Colored Leaves.

I am now going to tell you what to wear. Most of this stuff you can get at the mall. Get on email lists and stores will send you coupons.

My current biggest fear on the planet is what is going to happen to fashion when “Mad Men” grooves on into those disgusting Seventies, because I have been so happy for the styles of the Sixties Hitchcock blondes to return to the stores.

That means Dress like the Sixties for fall i.e. Kim Novak, Betty Draper, and fat Twiggy. Because, come on, no one’s as skinny as real Twiggy. Some of us are downright Ziggy.

Nevertheless, I will wear an orange miniskirt this year and you will just have to shut it on up if you don’t like it. Yes, I’m telling everyone to find and wear an orange skirt. Or royal blue. Or red. Just make it a bold color, in a simple shape, with good structure. I got mine at Ann Taylor, but The Limited, Nordstrom and J. Crew are doing similar good things.

Now, an above-knee, solid-color skirt is no great risk. A-line, full, pencil or whatever are good too. If you’ve got the height to pull off that just-above-the-calf thing, go nuts.

Here’s where I’m going to challenge you. Are you sitting down? You are? Well then stand up, stand up (joke courtesy of Tom Scharpling.)

Wear that skirt with a top in a non-matching, solid, bold color. Put the orange skirt with a pink top! Your Kelly green pencil needs a royal blue sweater! Yellow skirt? Teal that!

It’s called color-blocking folks, and it’s gonna look adorable. Trust me! You can even do it in less-bold colors, such as gray and black, and it still counts as color-blocking. Just keep the shapes simple and avoid detail or adornment—that goes for accessories, too.

Okay, if that’s too loco for you, might I interest you in some animal prints of which I have previously not preferred? Sixties You (AKA your better self) practically requires it. Sweaters and shoes are a good entrée into this realm.

One lovely animal pattern can be found on my favorite item of the whole fall so far, J. Crew’s Tippi sweater, no doubt inspired by Hitchcock blonde Tippi Hedren. It’s perfect. The neckline hits your collarbone at just the right spot, the sleeves are my favorite length—bracelet—and it comes in an array of gorgeous colors and is a nice lightweight merino that’s not too warm but warm enough. It’s America’s greatest sweater.

J.Crew's Tippi Sweater in Leopard

Pantyhose! Look, I know only our mom’s friends wear pantyhose at the moment, but if you’re gonna go ladylike, they work. And, they hold you in place nicely under all those pencil skirts. You love tights, don’t you? It’s really not that big of a leap. Remember how polished and put-together it used to make you feel back when you put them on in the Nineties? It still works, trust me.

For further guidance, I recommend you visit the Lady Chic Shop on Neiman Marcus’ website. Please note that all the models are wearing black pantyhose.

You know how they say go big, or go home, and it’s really dorky? Well, I’m telling you to go big and then go OUT… on the town or something? Go with large jeweled stud earrings, track down a vintage brooch or two (I’m particularly obsessed with starbursts—for earrings, cocktail rings, and a mirror for my upstairs hallway) and a short string of pearls or beads in a single or double strand. Grab a frame bag, tie it with a simple scarf in maybe a deco-looking geometric pattern or a houndstooth.

So, now you’re dressed and you look good. Here’s where I leave you.