About sixteen years ago, I met him for the first time. My trainwreck sibling brought home this adorable puppy he had no business adopting because he had not one thing in his life that wasn’t a mess. I was furious at my sibling – he didn’t even take care of himself, how could he drag
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June 15, 2008
Due to a possible compromise/penetration of my cover by an untrustworthy soul, I’ve had to block public access to the blog.
I’m undergoing an identity cleanse and hope to be back up and running within 24 hours. I can still be reached at this name @ yahoo.com for now, but I’m going to have to make as clean a break as possible with regards to pseudonym and address. Thanks for helping me preserve my anonymity, I would hate to have to delete this blog or stop blogging entirely because of this.
I’m still trying to figure out how to reach regular readers, or irregular readers, whose email addresses I don’t have, without publicly stating that Ms.M has become such and such a blogger, and making it easy for my privacy-invader to trace me to the new blog.
Edit: I’m specifically thinking of Chocoholic, Karen, Beautiful, and a few others who comment every so often but don’t have profiles, comments enabled on their blogs, or blogs at all so that I can contact them.
June 13, 2008
*sigh* So after my rant about American’s decision, United has decided to follow suit and charge for the first piece of luggage as well.
Kacie has a good point: Southwest just plans to fly a little bit slower and save money that way; I wonder if these other airlines can’t or won’t follow suit because they’re so frequently late anyway that they can’t afford to spend time instead of gas?
And perhaps it’s simply easier and quicker to charge the customer extra than it is to implement gas efficient solutions? It seems to me that it’s smarter to reduce the requirements for gas, since the price-related scarcity is the root of the problem, than it is to simply wring another fifteen to forty bucks out of customers who may be able to choose to fly less frequently as a result of the increased costs. Yes, I sure do have a stake in saying that, but I also like to have more than one solution to a problem, especially such a major one. Sure they’ll have to raise prices to compensate as well, but let’s look at the overall picture, not just the most obvious, glaring issue.
Personally, I’m looking at alternatives to traveling with either of these airlines when I have a choice, though I don’t have a say when it comes to business travel. Since all expenses are paid for business trips, I suppose I don’t have to take it as personally, and continue to be a super-condensed packer.
Hat tip to Wanda for the link to this article about the SUPER Long Distance Relationship: intercontinental relationships! I can’t really get my mind around that.
I have it relatively easy in that we’re on the same coast, and within an hour’s flight of each other. But it’s still a major pain in the patoot to have to schedule every single possible meeting, days and weeks ahead of time. With gas prices being what they are, and a promise BD extracted from me two+ years ago never to drive up alone, there’s simply zero spontaneity in the daily part of our relationship. It’s not exactly heartbreaking, since I’m the consummate, OCD, organize everything to a fare-thee-well personality, but still. Definitely no surprise bowls of soup when we’re sick, no surprise flowers when we’re having a good day. Heck, sometimes we’re so busy or tired, we don’t even know the other person is sick or happy.
[….. That makes our relationship sound terrible. It’s not. It’s just the reality of the LDR that certain things people take for granted do fall by the wayside. And it’s not like we don’t eventually figure it out, it’s just that it’s not obvious the way it is when you’re face to face.]
But getting back to my point: the SLDR? How long can people tolerate and function in that sort of distance? And does becoming accustomed to it create a dynamic in which you have to relearn how to get along in closer quarters?
When you’re starting out in an LDR of any sort, you’re thinking of the practicality: the career moves, the growth, the freedom to build a life apart from the relationship so you’re not one of those attached-at-the-hip-elbow-jaw couples. They, frankly, annoy me. After some time, though, it gets hard. Exponentially harder. I’d guess that’s when people start breaking down and either splitting up or making plans to be in the same city at the same time, forever.
I wonder if the breakdown happens at a more accelerated pace for the SLDR?
June 12, 2008
I’m normally pretty blase about the graduation thing. I’ve even been thinking that, if and when I finally go to graduate school, I’m not going to walk when I graduate. I’m not particularly comfortable with all that attention, pomp and circumstance. And really, who isn’t bored at graduation ceremonies? Still, I paid my good-cousin dues yesterday, literally and figuratively, attending my little cousin’s high school graduation.
Man, that kid’s impressive. He’s this gangly kid that I’ve watched grow up, tolerated Power Rangers for, hung out with every Thanksgiving and suddenly he’s graduating from high school as a valedictorian, National Merit Scholar and … *drumroll please* a Presidential Scholar!
Holy. Crap. Seriously, holy crap. He even gave the best speech of all the speeches. I’m not just biased, it was funny, irreverent, and so not full of himself and his memories like everyone else’s typical “I remember first walking onto this campus four years ago….” Oh, the references to “four years ago” were rampant. My favorite line of his? “In the end, I’m just that Asian kid with good grades, whose speech you won’t remember a word of tomorrow, but for tonight at least, I hope the teachers have a sense of closure and know that they’ve done their best with us.”
I’m so proud of him I could burst. But he’s always going to be my little cousin. And the look on his face when we got home, before he got ready to leave for Grad Night, was priceless: “Wow. No more high school.” Heh. Yep.
From my jaded post-college, workaday experiences, I almost replied, “Yeah, and that confidence, that top of the world feeling you’ve got? Enjoy it now, because it’s going to be a while before you’re that flush with pride and surety again.” I didn’t. For one thing, that’s mean. And for another, it’s probably not true.
I know he’s going to face some tough times eventually, but I get the feeling that it’s going to be a while yet. He’s whip-smart, he could make air bleed, he’s so sharp. He didn’t coast to the top, I know he worked hard, so he won’t be shocked by having to work in college like some of my smart friends were. Lordy, I remember my friends and I at that age. We were so very much not life-smart; I could only wish I were half as smart as he. We were so immature, and had so much to learn. And despite the astounding academic achievements, he’s the same way: he’s still so young and a little naive. He’s even following his big sister to college because he wants to be where she is. I’ll never say this to him, but how cute is that?? I hope that they never lose that relationship, because every really smart person always needs someone to look up to and keep them grounded.
Is this confidence really just my need to believe that for him, at least, life will continue like a dream?
Maybe it is, but I feel pretty maternal about my little cousins, and it’s my job to hope that nothing ever goes wrong for them.
P.S. For the first time ever, I was totally prepared for a graduation: sunglasses for the sun, dress for the heat, and my beloved trench for when it got cold three hours later. Perfect! I think my CPW on that trench has now dropped below $1/wear. Yesssss.
Do yourself a favor and save yourself a really uncomfortable visit to the dentist. I don’t mean skip it entirely! Even though I didn’t have a copay, I was levied a toll of the worst dental pain ever on Monday. As a rule, I like the dentist. Admittedly, this is because I’ve been fairly lucky and have had very few cavities. Also, the dentist pales in comparison to the torture of the orthodontist under whose heel I suffered for years.
So, coming from someone who doesn’t fear the dentist and enjoys dental visits: please, please floss right or you will quickly learn why people rate fear of the dentist second only to public speaking.
Turns out that there is a wrong way to floss: my way.
I’ve been using a Reach flosser because I always complain that my hands are too big to fit inside my mouth. It’s been so long that I’ve given away all my free regular floss from all those Walgreens FAR deals. I might have an old dusty box hiding in a supplies box somewhere, and I’ll have to break it out now.
This is how you floss correctly:
1. Take a long string of floss, wrap it around your fingers.
2. Wrap a section of the floss around your tooth in a C shaped, and scrape it so that you’re hitting the front and back of your tooth. (Ugh, I don’t like the thought of scraping. But it’s better to floss that way than have the dentist doing it later!) Do the same for the other side.
3. Use a new section for every tooth. This prevents you from just moving bacteria from one tooth to the next one.
It’s pretty simple, but I sure wish my dental school friend had told me this earlier!
June 11, 2008
Wow. I was suddenly overwhelmed by fluttery feelings of anxiety, stress, fear? Deep (yoga) breathing and playing my Italian podcast for a soothing background helped a little. I thought taking work with me would be helpful too.
I’m definitely stressed about the mountains of work on my desk, not getting done, because there was a miscommunication about my cousin’s graduation that is not tomorrow. It’s today! I can’t believe how close I came to missing it. Thank goodness I checked the ticket this morning, otherwise I’d have been fielding a phone call after the ceremony to explain what an idiot I am.
Anyway, this work on my lap isn’t precisely occupying me, nor is anything quite distractionary enough.
I need a nap!
LB interviewed a high schooler for an internship today. But his dad not only brought him here, he’s sitting in on the interview.
Huh?
I remember a handful of interviews from high school, and a parent may have driven me to each one, but they certainly never accompanied me to the door, walked me in, or interviewed with me. Then again, I was a latchkey kid, and pretty independent early on.
Is it just me, or is that weird?
