Thursday, August 30, 2012

Parents 2.0

My parents both passed away by the time I was 35.  I don't believe my dad ever saw a PC, his video camera was bigger than the typical 'purse puppy' and I think we had barely transitioned to VHS before he died.  My mom made it to dial-up and cell phones, though they were the size of a shoe. No reference to Get Smart intended.  Needless to say, every time I see advances in technology I wonder what my parents would have thought.

I know neither one of them would have been wary of the changes.  My dad would have embraced them a bit faster than my mom I think. I could see him happily mowing the lawn with Sinatra, Dean Martin or even Michael Buble (whom he would have loved) playing on his MP3 player.  After scoffing at the cost, he was an accountant after all, he would have happily used up the meager 2G data plan on my tablet in a few short days.  The cellular data providers would have loved him.  He would have been in his element in the age of instant information.  I would not have been surprised to learn he had his own page on a social media site.

My mom, on the other hand, would have loved a DVR.  I remember as I was growing up that the hours between 1:00 and 3:00 Monday-Friday were sacred.  While she might not have been sitting right in front of the television, she was home and within earshot.  This wasn't difficult considering we always had a television in or within viewing range of the kitchen, in every occupied bedroom and the living room or den.  Her thing was the soaps specifically Another World, Days of Our Lives and their spins offs.  It was somewhat frustrating for me as a child.  I was lucky enough from age 6 til 14 to have my own in-ground swimming pool. But I could never use it during those hours - there wasn't a television close enough to the pool area.  Needless to say unless it was an emergency, and I tried very hard not to have those during the afternoon, I was stuck at home in the summer.  Oh the liberation when we got our first betamax - by then we were living in a town where I could walk to things and not in the country but I still needed her to take me to the mall because I did not have a license.  I realized I could drag her away from the television and it even saved her time in that she could fast forward through the commercials.  The only down side was that there was a fixed amount of time on those tapes which required her to stay on top of them before they filled up.  When they would go away I was required to keep her up to date on all that had happened while she was away - at least I didn't have to watch the commercials and I could skim through them so I could summarize.  With today's technology she would be over the moon.  Not only could she save several months’ worth of soaps but she would have a network dedicated entirely to the proliferation of the genre, not to mention all the online access options available to her.
Alas, Another World went off the air in her lifetime.  Days, I learned is still alive and kicking. I happened to turn it on a few months ago out of simple curiosity.  Sadly, it didn't take me long to get up to date on things.  Many of the characters are still there and portrayed by the same people only about 14 years older.

I know my parents would have enjoyed all that the new technologies have to offer. I know my adolescence would have been much freer with the options offered to them in the age of instant information and mobile technology.  Kids these days don't know how easy they have it!

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

The out of doors should stay that way.

I should realize after spending 25 years with cats that they are like children.  If they disappear for a while and it's too quiet that is time to worry.  Last week Mojo disappeared for about three hours one evening.  Normally he stays in the living room with me while I watch television.  I figured he was either in my bedroom or the basement and didn't think much about it.  When I went to bed, however, I heard a rather muted meow. I opened my bathroom door to find the toilet paper completely shredded and Mojo sitting in the open window.  He wasn't very happy with me but it could have been worse, at least he was in a sizable room with a window that looked out onto the front of the house and he had entertained himself by shredding the toilet paper.  I apologized profusely and lavished him with kitty treats.

So last evening, when he had been missing for about an hour, I began to worry.  I checked my bathroom again, then my bedroom closet and the powder room, all places I had been in the past few hours but no Mojo.  I went down to the finished basement fortunately I turned on the lights at the base of the stairs before heading down.  As I rounded the corner I found him staring at an object on the floor.  At first I thought it was a cord or something, I had been in the basement sewing earlier in the day.  As I got closer I realized the cord seemed to have a head.  Now at this point I have to say with pride that I acted largely like an adult and didn't scream bloody murder.  I grabbed Mojo, flew up the stairs and slammed the basement door.  Needless to say, Mojo was less than happy to be separated from his toy.  My first fear was that it was poisonous and he had eaten some of it.  Based on the amount of complaining he was doing I figured he was ok.  Mind you, this was at 9:00 last night so like anyone else, I was in my pajama which on this particular evening consisted of men's Fruit of the Loom boxers and a camisole as it was a warm evening.  A this point I wouldn't have cared if I were naked I had the Loch Ness Monster in my basement and I wanted him out.  I did what any articulate, capable, single woman would do - I ran next door to get my male neighbor.  I knew he was still wake because the lights were on in their living room.  I had to ring the doorbell several times.  He said he thought it was his wife and since he knew she had her key he wasn't going to bother coming downstairs until he realized her car wasn't outside.    I was so scared I could barely talk.  There are two things of which I am afraid frogs and snakes.  Frogs creep me out but thanks to a bullying episode in elementary school, I am terrified of snakes of any size.  My poor neighbor must have thought I had a python in the basement. He was kind enough not to laugh hysterically when he saw that the predator was smaller around than my pinky and barely eight inches long.  As I curled up on the top of the back of my sleep sofa, he moved the creature via a shovel to the backyard.  Before he left he said the way to tell if they are poisonous is to look at the shape of the eyes.  My response was, "sweetie, I don't EVER plan to be close enough to a snake to look at the shape of his eyes". Once I opened the basement door, Mojo flew down there and stayed down there the rest of the night.  I don't know if he saw this intruder as a playmate or something against which he should defend me.  I choose to think of the latter.  I have continued to praise him for keeping his mommy safe.

First thing this morning I went out the basement door and covered the back with mothballs and crushed eggshells.  I have heard both are deterrents to snakes.  I had what I think was a baby copperhead outside that door earlier in the summer.  After placing the mothballs I didn't see it again.  I was thinking that I needed to replace them as we had had several days of rain.  Guess I didn't do it soon enough.  The more disconcerting thing is that when I was putting out the mothballs I found the skin to a much larger snake by my seldom used trash can.  I live in an interior unit and it is a pain to bring the can up the hill to the curb so another neighbor is kind enough to let me put my one weekly bag in their can.  After seeing the skin I have no plans to move that can until those miserable reptiles hide for the winter.page1image6572

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Single Lady

I heard recently, on a Sunday morning television news magazine, that in some major US cities over 40% of the people are single. It was comforting to learn that I am more of the norm these days.  Don't get me wrong, I want to get married, it just hasn't happened yet.  I should try to be optimistic.  However,  some part of me never thought I would be married.  Of course, it doesn't help that when I was 25 my mother walked into the den when I was watching television and informed me that by Victorian standards I was considered 'on the shelf'.  This was a quaint euphemism for being a spinster.  Of course the fact that I later became a librarian and have lived with cats half my life doesn't help any.
I'm not sure how I feel about reaching the half-century mark having never married.  Sometimes I hate it especially as I watch my single friends enter couple hood which leaves me alone many evenings and weekends.  Of course the flip side is that I have seen many people in bad relationships and having been in one myself for four years I appreciate being single.  Then there is the part of me that wishes I had someone to be a witness to my life, to paraphrase Susan Sarandon in " Shall We Dance?".  I suppose in the age of social media one can live alone and still have witnesses to one's life.  That however means one has to post all aspects of  one's life on social media, which I don't choose to do.  I'm not looking for a man to save me.  I am capable of taking care of myself.  It would be nice to have someone to worry about me or make me tea when I'm sick.  It is also nice though not to have to worry about cooking for someone or cleaning up after them.  This is not a dig on men but they don't see a dirty house the same way a woman does.  There is scientific evidence of this phenomena.  I can't cite the studies off the top of my head but I have read several over the years.  Men's brains aren't wired the same as women's, their perception of things is different.  Cleanliness is a matter of perception.
Obviously I am conflicted about my single status.  I think it might be difficult for me to be in a relationship.  I have been alone for so long I am somewhat set in my ways.  I am not sure I would be open to change, besides I hate dating.  I am pretty much a 'what you see is what you get' type of person.  Dating, at least at the beginning, is about playing games - flirting, verbal volleyball etc..  While I enjoy the challenge of a good verbal give and take; I once stayed out until 4 am discussing the definition of reality with a male friend, I can't flirt to save my life.  I never learned how and quite frankly I think it's ridiculous.  It's a good thing I didn't grow up in the Renaissance or the Middle Ages.  I would have been a terrible damsel in distress.  With the exception of cars and anything electric, just give me the proper tools and a book and I can figure it out on my own, thank you very much.  Of course, that doesn't apply to my life, but that's for another day.  According to research men like damsels in distress because they like to fix things for them.  I like fixing things on my own.  However, if there is a man out there who won't try to fix things either in my home or about me but is willing to deal with frogs and snakes I might be willing to negotiate.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Passion

Ok don't want anyone to get excited, it's nothing off color. I have been on a 'work hiatus' for the past two months. Other than finishing up some long standing projects, I have been doing research about how I can use and market my skills as a librarian in another manner.  I have been reading a book about how to find your passions in life and use them.  I came across the book because it was referenced in another book.  Librarians call this 'citation chasing'.  I had to buy it because my library did not own it but as it was only $2.99 at Amazon I could live with that.  It's probably a good thing because every time I pick it up something I placed on hold from the library comes in.  It's been tough to get through anyway, not really sure why.  I know what my passions are; research, baking, knitting, reading and ballroom dance.  Sad part is that the only one of those that is really transferable to a career for me is the research.
Over the course of my life I have thought about opening a patisserie, or a yarn shop but honestly it wouldn't work for me.  I am terrible at retail and too much of an introvert to market my own business.  As I think I mentioned before I did have my own professional organizing business but didn't do very well selling the business.  I know what I am capable of why can't people just see that in me?  Could also be why I am still on a 'work hiatus'.   I also need a steady income and employer provided health insurance to survive happily. After much soul searching I finally realized entrepreneurship is not for me. I have thought about writing a book as well and once I come up with a good story line I will try to write something that is more for public consumption and not simply for my eyes only.
That leaves the ballroom dancing.  This is without question the real passion in my life.  I haven't danced for almost six weeks and I am miserable.  Sadly it is not a pastime for those on a 'work hiatus'.  It is a very expensive obsession and requires a viable income to pursue it.  I learned the hard way the last time I wasn't working but kept dancing, and  I am still paying for that.  If I were 30 years younger I could find a way to dance while unemployed but at nearly 50 that's not an option.  So here I sit, trying to find a way to follow my one big passion and keep Mojo in the manner to which he has become accustomed.