Am I Down Two Lives?

Today, in the snow, I did a 180 on the way to the highway. There was no one coming, and so no harm, no foul. But it was a little disconcerting to end up facing the wrong way at the curve in the road. I was afraid that someone would come around the bend expecting to get a clear path onto the highway, and find my car in the way. Whether they would have been able to stop in time is a question that I'm glad I didn't have to answer. It took me a 6-point turn to get facing in the right direction, mostly because I didn't want to go to far onto the shoulder with the snow and all.

This isn't the first time I've done a 180 in my car. Even that particular car. In 2007, I did a 180 because my tire blew out. In the middle of rush hour. On the four lane highway. I stopped and watched the cars coming at me. Just in case you were wondering, time really does slow down when you're in danger. I remember very distinctly seeing the cars coming, even though they were driving about 50 MPH. And yet, everyone either managed to go around me or stop in front of me. Not only that, but someone on the right of me stopped so that I could back up onto the shoulder. It was amazing really.

If I were a cat, I would say I'd used up two lives. As it is, I will count my blessings and sleep well tonight.

They Love Me. They Love Me Not

Sometimes I wonder how my cats really feel about me. Am I just the food dispenser? Someone to rub their face against when they need to clean their teeth? Someone to clean the litterbox?

I wonder this because I have cats who hate (make that HATE) to be picked up. I cannot pick one up and walk around the house cuddling her and petting her. No. They will squirm and push against me till I let them go. Brie is the worst. Mia at least let's me pick her up for a second or two. Brie won't even let me do that. And since she's the bigger of the two at 12 pounds, she generally wins that particular battle.

I love a cuddle cat. I love when I have foster kittens who let me pick them up and kiss their heads and pet them till I'm tired of petting them. In fact, I figure this is one of my duties as a foster mom - to turn the kittens into cuddle cats. I have occasionally had kittens who resisted my attentions. But after a little while, I have been able to convince them that I mean them no harm and that human contact is actually a good thing.

Unfortunately, I was not successful in doing this with my own cats. I have two theories about why. One, there are two of them and they have primarily snuggled with each other. Two, when I got them, I was working full time and in grad school. I didn't have a lot of free time and I wasn't around much.

So sometimes I wonder whether they really love me.

And then I sit in one place for a while, as I am now. And I see the love. Brie is snuggled up next to my left arm. She's actually leaning against that arm making it quite difficult to type. It's her favorite perch at the end of the day. Mia, on the other hand, is curled at the base of my crossed legs. Not physically touching me but quite close. Her new favorite perch? On my lap when I'm working on my laptop. In typical cat fashion, it takes her 10 minutes of walking from lap to desk and back again before she settles down. But once she's there, she throws me quite dirty looks if I move.

So while my cats may not like to be held and they hate to be picked up, they do love me.

They love me? They love me not? Nah. They love me.

Not As Young As I Used To be

You want to know how I know that I'm not as young as I used to be. There are at least two ways.

First, I used to stay up until after 11, sometimes close to midnight, every night - and still get up for work by 6 am and be fine. These days, to really be functional at work all day, I should get to sleep around 10. Since I usually read before going to sleep, that means getting under the covers by about 9:30. Which means going upstairs around 9:15 or earlier to brush my teeth, wash my face, and get into my nightgown. And that's just REALLY early.

Second, I used to work 10 hours a day routinely and still have energy when I got home. If I went to workout, that would often help with reenergizing me. Now, after a 10-hour day, I cannot convince myself to go to workout at all - much less getting reenergized by it.

Of course, my gray hair might be another clue. :)

No Presents, Please (Gifts, Optional)

My dad turns 83 in a few days. He's never been a huge fan of getting older. As he's gotten older, he has become less and less of a fan of the whole birthday thing. My parents are both healthy. It's not about that. I think it's more that every year, he thinks about all that he has done and wanted to do, and - even though he's done a great deal with his life - I think, for him, that balance always falls on the side of not having quite done everything he's wanted to do. That's just a guess because he hasn't really ever articulated it. But he's an ambitious guy.

As a family, of course, we still celebrate his birthday. It's important to acknowledge the day. To acknowledge another year healthy. To never forget to let him know how much he means to all of us. It's important. Because you just never know. He is 83, after all. And although his health scares this past year were relatively small in the scheme of things - diverticulosis and needing a pacemaker - they were still a reminder that our bodies only last so long. I don't care who you are. Every body will break down eventually.

In the past few years, though, Dad has requested no presents for his birthday. He's not a big present guy. Most Christmases he remarks on how we don't really need presents from each other. After all, most of us can well afford whatever we need. And at 83, he feels that he and my mother need no more things. They have enough things. To me, giving at Christmas and birthdays isn't really about presents. It's about gifts. To think about it and come up with something that perhaps the person may not *think* he or she needs.

We honor my father's request for his birthday. No presents. At least not more things. Instead, his presents are the family gathering to share, eat good food, and generally be a family - a gift indeed. To my father, that's present enough.

But I also *skirt* the present issue. I don't buy him any thing, nothing physical. But I usually make a donation in his honor, if not in his name. Two years ago, I gave to Donors Choose where the money goes to schools for special projects. Last year, I gave to Second Harvest to help feed those who were struggling in the tight economy. This year, I gave to Haiti.

Not a present, but still a gift.

Am I Really This Picky About Men? And What's Wrong With Me?

So around the New Year, I signed up for an online dating service. I'm been reluctant to blog about it before because I don't really want to have my dating life become the subject of conversation a lot. As I mentioned in one blog entry, dating is like looking for a job. You spend a lot of time blindly trying to find the right connection. And you don't necessarily want to talk about every bad path with every one you meet. When you find the right one, you'll tell everyone. But in the meantime, it's hard to talk about what can be a very ego-crushing experience.

That being said, I signed up for this service. 6-month membership. I figure it usually takes six months to find a good job at my level. So finding a man should take at least that long, right? Seemed logical to me at the time.

This particular site includes a personality test. I have to admit they did a pretty good job of getting my personality right. Close enough at any rate. Then you set up some search criteria - age, weight, interests, locality, etc. One of the interesting thing this site does is let you not only pick the criteria but then pick how important having a good match in each area is to you. For example, how important is it that he be a nonsmoker? That kind of thing.

So you'd think that most of the matches that I would get would be pretty close to what I'd be interested in, right?

Interestingly, not so much. The site doesn't include political leanings as a criteria for matching, though you do answer the question. And so I've seen quite a few guys who are conservative. I think middle of the road and left would work for me, but I don't think conservative would be a good fit. Pass.

While you do get to indicate what level of education you'd like your match to have (I said at least some college), you don't get to choose when it comes to type of job or salary level. It's possible that a guy who works as a truck dispatcher would be a good match for me, but I have to admit that I passed on the one of those that came up. And a guy who makes considerably less money than me - again, probably not. In my experience, although it's changing, most men still like to make more than their sig others. Or at least the same or close. Since I make a more than decent living these days, that can get a little dicey. Almost all the men mention camping. Really? Can't you do that with the guys? A fair number have been into serious downhill skiing (bad knees) or flying (afraid of heights).

Now I have found about 20 guys that I thought it would be worth taking the next step with - the next step being more compatibility questions. And I have gotten exactly ONE response. One. Only one.

And now you know why I don't want to tell everyone that I'm doing this? How embarrassing is that? One response out of 20. One.

I'm A Cat Person

As anyone who knows me knows, I have two cats - one tortie and one calico, sisters, about 5-1/2 years old. I got them when the cat that I had, who I had had for 13 years, died from what we suspect was stomach cancer. I had "inherited" that cat from a friend of my sister who was moving to Australia and didn't want to subject the cat to quarantine for many months. Before that, the last pet I had had was a cat in college that my senior year roommate came home with one day. Being the responsible one of the pair of us, that cat ended up as my cat when we graduated that spring. When I left Boston a couple of years later, I had to leave him behind. Long story short, in my adult life, I have only had cats as pets. As a kid, I had a dog. I got her for my 11th birthday present, and she lived to be about 15. By that time, I had been away to college and she had stayed with my parents, but I still thought of her as my dog. All this to say that, while I've had cats as pets in my adult life, when it comes to pets, I'd take either a cat or a dog. It's just that cats are more convenient when you work long days and live by yourself, as I do. But I do love dogs. In fact, I originally got involved in animal rescue just to have an excuse to be around dogs. I missed them.

But I came to the realization the other day that really I'm a cat person. Not in the sense of which type of pet I prefer. But that I am really cat-like. Have cat qualities much more than dog qualities.

For example, I am terribly independent yet want affection. Doesn't that sound like the stereotype of cats? I've been living on my own my whole adult life. I'm used to doing for myself, and I must admit, I sometimes have a hard time letting other people do things for me. And yet, I would really like someone in my life to share the decisions. And I think I'd learn to let go of doing everything if I had someone who would take some things on. I just haven't had that, so I'm used to doing everything. Independent in part because I have no one to depend on.

And yet I'm also very tactile. I have to be careful when I say that to people because it can sound terribly crass. But I'm a hugger. I love physical contact and miss it in my daily life. I call it tactile, because I also have very sensitive skin. Annoyingly sensitive skin. I can't wear wool, for instance, because it's too scratchy. Unless it's extremely fine, it literally gives me a rash on my skin. Even through something else. On the flip side, give me anything soft and silky, and I'm in seventh heaven. Same goes for human touching. Not a fan of rough-housing or being constrained. Love to hold hands, hug, and generally be convivial. Sort of like my cats. Who love to be with me, to be pet, but don't like to be held. (Well, not exactly, since I do like to be held, but I think you get the idea.)

Another quality I share with cats is a love for sleep, but also that I'll wake up at every little noise. Have you ever noticed that a cat will wake up whenever you walk into the room? Most of the time, mine just roll their head to look at me. Sometimes they just roll over and go back to sleep. Sometimes they get up and come over and say hello. But the point is that they wake up. I too am a very light sleeper. Heck, I wake up when my cats jump on my bed, and they aren't very heavy. It's not a cat quality I particularly enjoy having. But I do have it.

In my case, I also share a food pickiness with my cats. In my experience, most dogs eat what you put in front of them, often as quickly as they can. Cats, on the other hand, have been known to turn up their noses at what is presented. My cats are always anxious to be fed; they curl around my legs when I get home until I put their food down. But once the food is there, they both have a quick bite, then Mia eats for a little while, then Brie comes in for a little while, but they don't just gobble the food down. And they get "bored" of the same food after a week or so. I usually have two varieties of canned food to put down at each meal. And they still start turning up their noses at it after a few days of the same variety. I'm just a picky eater. I like what I like. I don't like what I don't like. And what I don't like is a pretty long list. I think what I do like is a pretty long list, too, but somehow I often get accused of being picky. And so cat-like.

Like any good pet, including cats, I also will cease to be friendly to someone who doesn't treat me right. And like any good cat, I will not tolerate abuse for really any length of time; dogs are much more patient/tolerant. I won't say that the one who hurts me will feel like my claws, but I can't say they won't either.

But mostly I think my biggest cat-ish quality is my independence. I love who I love. But don't ask me to follow you around without a thought in my head. Ain't gonna happen.

I Have A Dream

Today is a federal holiday to honor Dr. Rev. Martin Luther King. In his most famous speech, Dr. King said, "I have a dream." "I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: 'We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal.'" Powerful words. Important words. Emphatically and eloquently delivered. They helped move a nation.

When Friends Attack

Recently, one of my friends posted a comment on Facebook about how to deal with unsolicited advice. It's an interesting challenge. Often, those who give such advice are well-meaning. In her particular case, she's been posting that her current task is ending and those of us in government contracting know that means she's going to be on overhead soon. Depending on the company, being on overhead can be the kiss of death, leading to RIFs and other bad things. So I suspect that the unsolicited advice she's been getting has been related to next steps she could take career-wise.

The problem with that is three-fold: 1) unless you work for her particular company and know how it operates, any advice may or may not apply, 2) it's hard not to see this advice as criticism of what she is or is not doing, and really whatever she is or is not doing is her business, and 3) she probably knows already what she needs or wants to do, or is already talking to the people whose opinions she trusts on the subject, so any unsolicited advice is likely superfluous.

And really that's the problem with unsolicited advice. It's superfluous. And it puts an obligation on the advisee to react positively to the advisor, even when the advice may be completely offbase and inappropriate. After all, you don't want to tell people to mind their own business. That's just not nice. On the other hand, it's very hard to *nicely* tell someone they have no idea what they are talking about.

I've been in her position a couple of times. I've either been in a job that was at risk or been unemployed. And it stinks. But advice on what to do about it - even when well-meaning - just reminds you of the situation and, most of the time, isn't really all that helpful. And when you get it from a lot of people, it gets very wearing.

She ended the discussion with the comment "I think the world would be a much nicer place if everyone thought long and hard before offering unsolicited advice". Amen to that.

Running In The Cold--That's How I Feel

There is a threshold below which I won't run outside in the cold. Anything lower than about 35 degrees, and it's just too cold for me. Maybe that makes me a wimp, but that's how I feel.

But running outside when the temperature is in the 40s and 50s is just about perfect. As long as I have mittens on my hands when it's in the 40s, I'm good. And I don't sweat so much. When I don't sweat as much, I feel like I can run farther. I feel like I run easier and faster. I don't know that it's really true, but that's how I feel.

The challenge is often that when the temperatures are that cool, night comes earlier. November through March, it's a rare day that I get home when the sun is still up. And I don't like to run after dark. It's not so much that I feel unsafe in terms of someone attacking me. I suppose that fear is in there somewhere. But it's more that I am afraid that cars won't see me. And even though I run on the sidewalk, there is always the possibility that I'll fall into the street. And so I worry about cars more than other people. Maybe that's weird, but that's how I feel.

Today I got home about 4:30. The sun didn't go down until about 5:15. So I had time for a half hour run. Which is about the norm for me. Somewhere between 2-3 miles. Far enough to feel like I've "stretched" my legs. But not so far that I hurt my knees. And that's how I feel.

Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, It's Off To Work I Go

I have worked in proposal management for the past 6 years. Those who work in proposal management understand that overtime just comes with the job. Before that, I worked a bunch of jobs that required overtime as part of the normal course of events. What I'm trying to say is that I am quite used to working overtime. Especially in DC, it seems to be pretty normal for most people.

But this week has kicked my ass. Part of the problem is that I haven't gotten to the gym all week. I have definitely found that, if I don't get any exercise, my overall energy level goes down. But when I don't get out of work until after 7 pm, and I start at 8 am, I just can't make myself go to the gym. Sometimes when my schedule works that way, I use an exercise ball at home to at least get a little bit of workout in. For some reason, I just didn't do that this week. And I ended up crashing into bed by 9 pm most nights. All that sleep should have made me energetic. It didn't.

Adding to the fun is that I had to work today. Today is Saturday. Even though I often have to work late during the week, it's reasonably rare for me to have to work on a weekend day. And even if I do have to work on a weekend day, usually I can still get a workout in. But today, I got up, did the grocery shopping, and then got the email I had been dreading. Work needed to be done. Yuk!

Got to the office at noon. Left the office at 6:30. So again no workout. I'm going to work tomorrow, too, but from home. So I should be able to get some kind of workout in. Maybe I'll get two in. We'll see.

Work, work, work. Makes Barbara a dull girl.

A Good One Is Hard To Find

Today, I came to the realization that finding a good man and finding a good job have more in common that you might think.

Both require a lot of looking, most of which is fruitless. Both require lots of meetings, where you get only limited information but have to make a serious decision about moving forward. Sometimes the ones you want don't want you, and you may or may not know why. Sometimes the one you don't want do want you, and you wonder whether an okay one is better than none at all.

A few years back, the process for finding a job became more electronic. There are very few want-ads in the newspaper anymore (or for that matter, newspapers). Instead, job seekers use job search sites such as Monster.com. They post resumes. They send their resumes to ads posted on such sites and on the Careers pages of companies' websites. Sometimes job seekers are allowed to submit a cover letter, but more and more recently, I've noticed that only a resume is allowed. From what I understand, HR departments use keyword searches on those resumes to find the skills they want. I guess it's the only way to deal with a high volume of resumes. But it's pretty cold.

In the late '90s, I first used an online dating service. That first time, it was Love@aol.com. I posted a simple ad and got 100 emails in response. I must admit that I ended up doing something like a keyword search. In this case, I was looking for words I didn't want to see. Conservative. Republican. Too old. Too young. Etc. Since then, I have used pretty much every online dating service that exists. And much like online job hunting, online dating has gotten harder. Today, there are online dating services that purport to help (wo)man seekers with finding a "better" match using personality tests and other matching methodologies. Much like a job search process, you put your "resume" out there. You hope that you will use the right words to make the right matches. And when you get no response, you really have no idea why.

There is an old story by Flannery O'Connor entitled "A Good Man Is Hard To Find." I couldn't agree more. A good job is almost as hard. And the process for finding both stinks.

Blogging Is Serious Business

I spent 10 hours today writing sections of a proposal. 10 hours looking at my computer screen.

I wanted to write a blog entry today. It was my plan, as I haven't done for a couple of days.

But I have no more creativity left in my brain. Or my fingers.

That being said, I can't believe that there are new seasons of Project Runway and The Biggest Loser starting tonight. I like both shows, but I'm a little burnt out. I guess that reality shows are just that much cheaper to produce and so why not? Except that I may not watch these seasons as religiously. Because I'm burnt out.

Okay, now I'm done. Another day.

Reading What's Good For You

Among the many end-of-year items in The Washington Post on January 1 was a listing of the books reviewed by Jonathan Yardley in his Second Reading series since 2003. It wasn't entirely clear from the article, but I gather from the list that Mr. Yardley is stepping down from this task - a task in which he reviewed not new books but books that have been published for years, but deserve a "second reading." Good idea.

As a former English major - in fact, as someone with an M.A. in English - I would have thought that I would have read many of these books. In truth, I have read only three: Bleak House by Charles Dickens, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. And so I cut the article out of the paper and have decided that perhaps I will work my way through it. Because there's some books on the list that I have always meant to read but somehow have never gotten around to. Books like Giant by Edna Ferber, My Life and Hard Times by James Thurber, and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain. Interestingly, there are many authors on the list that I've never heard of: William Humphrey, Isabel Colegate, and John Phillips, who according to Yardley was the one who started the whole thing off. It seems that someone did a review of Phillips' short stories back in the '70s and Yardley was so offended by the review that he wrote a letter to the editor, which was not only published but Yardley was asked to start doing some reviews himself.

The concept of reading such books that might be deemed "good for you" is hardly a new one in my life. Obviously, I've read lots of books that have been dubbed "literature" by someone or another. But the other thing I've found over the years is that what is considered a "good" book, much like other forms of art, is extremely subjective. Though some would argue with the government's listing of what foods are "good for you" - and in fact, there was an article in yesterday's paper promoting the "caveman" diet - we do know that the body needs certain nutrients to be healthy. The definition of "good for you" can be argued scientifically.

On the other hand, the definition of "good for you" in art is harder to pin down. For example, there's no science fiction on Yardley's list. But you could make the argument that C.S. Lewis' Perelandra, Arthur Clarke's 2001: A Space Odyssey, and J.R.R. Tolkein's Lord of the Rings should be considered masters of the genre at a minimum and perhaps literature as well.

It's a bit like the movies that get nominated for Oscars. While I certainly think it's important to recognize works that didn't necessarily earn a great deal at the box office but told good stories and were well acted, the Oscars does have a reputation for avoiding box office blockbusters as not "good for you" types of movies. There have been a few exceptions, but more often than not, the blockbuster movies - even ones like Lord of the Rings that win Oscars - win them for costume and set design and those kinds of things. Not for their acting. Or scripts. In other words, not for their story.

That being said, I do think that it's "good for you" to know at least some of the classics and that many other of these "good" books deserve a "second reading". And so I will endeavor to do so. And recommend that others do as well. Sometimes "good for you" really can be.

Happy 2010!

I'm not one to make resolutions. It seems to me that resolutions are made to be broken. So why make them in the first place? Like many other holiday-related things, resolutions are really something that we should do every day. Just as we should be nice to each other every day, not just during the Christmas season.

That being said, like many other people, I take this time to evaluate my life and decide what I like about it and what I'd like to change. I don't think of it as making resolutions. I think of it as assessing my life.

In years past, I have been less than happy with my weight. This year, for the first time in my adult life, I'm okay with my weight. It's not perfect. I'm not at my ideal weight yet. But I'm so much closer than I have ever been before. I can look at my legs in the mirror and not be completely appalled. I can almost see kneecaps even when my knees are bent. I don't know if I'll ever have legs as lovely as my sister's, but I'm not afraid to wear short skirts anymore. And that's saying something.

While I have some things that I would like to change about my job, I am optimistic that 2010 will be a good one for me professionally. The world of health IT continues to change almost every day. We are poised to help with that explosion, and so life will be very interesting. I may not get everything I thought out of this job, at least financially, but I'm not going to complain (too much). I have a job. I like my job (most of the time). And I make a very nice living. I try to remember those things when I get unhappy with the aspects of my job that I don't like.

I am going to take an active role in trying to find love again. Needless to say, it hasn't worked in the past. And it's VERY hard on the ego. But I will try again. If only because I really don't relish the idea of growing old alone.

My family, including my extended family, is for the most part happy and healthy. I have one very sick uncle, who I hope will recover from his current ills in 2010. But everyone else is doing just fine. It looks like Dad doesn't need a new knee, although Carol may need knee surgery. But you know what? If new knees is the worst health problem we experience, I will count my blessings again and again.

So I am hopeful for a good 2010. Life is good.