2011 - Be Amazing!

December 31. The current year, with its joys, sorrows, celebrations. mistakes, changes, steadfastness, is drawing to a close. Persons generally choose this time of the year to wax philosophical about the year that's passed and put forward their (generally) sparkling, shiny dreams and aspirations for the coming year. This post is sorta like that - I guess it can't be helped. So bear with me.

At the start of this year, I visualized myself moving to Australia in December. I had it all worked out. John would get this wonderful job as an aircraft mechanic. He would go on ahead of the rest of us. With the school year in Australia starting in January, the boys and I would reach just in time. We'd learn how to identify poisonous snakes. I would home school our 4-year old and run my online business [yet to be determined] as I always wanted to - the uber WAHM. Well, it didn't quite happen the way it was planned. The recession became even more widespread and the jobs that were constantly being advertised in Australia, dried up.



So I made up my mind to make the best of what we had here. But the year started with a job I loved, being mutated to something I could no longer recognize and that I absolutely hated! The toll began to manifest itself on me both physically and emotionally. This resulted in my, by the close of this year, losing a whole dress size and developing insomnia. But even at the lowest point of this year, I found joy. BFFs who reminded me that they were here for me, no matter what. Colleagues who told me, unbidden, how much they enjoyed working with me. My mother who, after spending most of my life telling me how much I needed to lose weight, sent me breakfast every morning to make sure that I ate (and then giving me her own clothes to fit my now smaller frame). My husband who encouraged me to find what truly made me happy and supported me as I explored my newly rediscovered love of writing. My boys, who no matter how crazy they made me, wiped it all away by hugging me and telling me how much they loved me (with no expectation of reward - LOL). New friends who exposed me to areas I had previously not known about and with whom I plan to embark on the (new-to-me) world of web publishing in 2011.

I am about to embark on a new career path. But this year has also seen my having a greater reliance and faith in God and His determining the purpose for my life. And I intend to build on that relationship with God in 2011 and onwards.

I haven't abandoned the intention of starting my own online business. I'm in dialogue with a friend to start one. My first order of business (no pun intended) being to put aside my fear of failing and step boldly forward. In addition, not only I'm also developing my writing skills, but am also negotiating to start being paid for it. 

So, like most other persons, I have my sparkling, shiny dreams and aspirations for the coming year. I also have a deepening relationship in God that I will allow to lead me. All in all, I'm looking forward to 2011 - HAPPY NEW YEAR.

Gladys Knight - I Don't Want To Know

Absolutely powerful. Impossible to listen to and not appreciate the depth of the emotions here

LYRICS - I DON'T WANT TO KNOW


Gave you the best



Best years of my life and I


Gave you a woman


Who stood by your side


Through all your ups and downs


Your rights and all your wrongs


And God knows there were wrongs


I should've been long gone, but when I


Made you that promise


For better or worse I said I'd


Stand by your side


I swallowed my pride


And now you're asking me to understand


And I'm telling you I can't


Why should I care about your feelings


When you don't give a damn about mine






And I don't want to know


I couldn't care less about your feelings


Don't you know


You should've cared about mine


And I don't want to know


It really doesn't matter why you're leavin'


You should know


You're really throwin' away your life


And I won't sympathize


You've hurt me for the last time


Got no more tears to cry






Gave you three hearts


One boy and one girl and a


Woman who loves you


We're sittin' here falling apart


All through your ins and outs


Your fears and all your doubts


And God knows there's been doubts


But we've given you a home, and you're just


Throwing it away baby


All for some girl born yesterday


And what about your children


There is nothing to explain


But still you're asking us to understand


Well I'm telling you we can't


Why should we care about your reasons


When you're walking right out of our lives






HOOK






Say goodbye


To all the love and memories


One last time, one good look at all the love


That won't be in your life


Say goodbye


I hope that you'll be happy


Don't look back, 'cuz it'll be too late


I've gone with my life






HOOK

For coloured (and other) girlz . . .

Last Friday, my BFFs and I decided to see the movie every woman has been talking about, Tyler Perry's "For Colored Girls". The movie was creating quite the buzz and everyone had just one thing to say, "Prepare to bawl". 

The movie, as expected, was a hard watch. There were experiences that the women went through, that were a little too close to home for easy viewing. Around me, I heard women, including one of my friends, sniffling at various points in the movie. I kept waiting on my own tears to start - but it wasn't happening. And then came THAT scene!

* * * * SPOILER ALERT * * * * For those of you who haven't yet seen the movie (and plan to) it is advisable that you stop reading now.

THAT scene was the one where the mother of two young children watched (helplessly) as her emotionally damaged boyfriend literally dropped them out the 5th floor window of their apartment building. Oh man! Watching that scene was like getting a solid punch to the stomach. I couldn't breathe!! It didn't help that, from the very start of the movie, I had noted the resemblance of the younger child to my own 4 year old. For a split second, while watching that scene, I had a hard time separating the two in my mind.

Then, thank God, came intermission.

Around me, the sniffling heard earlier had now progressed to soft sobbing. I looked around with some degree of disbelief. Crying? CRYING!! Hell no! I was mad as hell!! The children's mother in this movie had every indication that their father was a ticking time bomb. While in the movie, and in real life, it's difficult to find alternate arrangements when you're a working mother, isn't there a point where the safety of our kids takes precedence? No matter the difficulties involved?

I spent the rest of the movie, barely containing my bubbling anger. And there were so many things to be angry about:-

• the silly young girl who gets pregnant because she didn't have the sense to use a rubber (sweetie, haven't you heard of HIV/AIDS? Pregnancy is almost the lesser of two evils here);
• the mature woman who allows the "wuckless" man to take advantage of her (are we really that afraid of being alone?);
• the rapist who practiced the 4 F's (it was so textbook, everyone was already seeing what was inevitably going to happen);
• the career woman who was so wrapped up in her money and position that she emasculated her husband in more ways than one (oooh - that one was REALLY hard to watch).

I was angry at ALL of them and visions of pick-axe sticks being wielded on someone's (OK - some man's) head kept swirling through my head.

Later, while recounting that part of the movie to my husband and venting about how angry it made me, he, with some degree of irritation, asked why was I was so upset.  After all, it was just a movie! Then I saw this TIME.com headline - Police: Dad Killed Woman, 2 Girls, Self. You see - it's not just a movie. It's every day life. I know that women, for various reasons, put up with abuse. But, my belief is that when children are involved, you do all that's required to keep them safe. That, at minimum, is our commitment to our children.

I know that I'm blessed that my children are safe, cherished and not in danger at home. I am thankful to God for that. But my anger burns for those women who can't, or won't, guarantee their children the same things. Rather than spending the time crying (the mother in the movie was in almost constant tears after losing her kids), let's have enough anger burn in us to ensure that no other child ends up paying the ultimate price because of us - coloured girlz or otherwise.

Oh, and by the way, if I had been the woman in THAT scene, believe me, the next person going through that window would have been the man. No court would ever convict me!

10 Rules for Brilliant Women - MORE Magazine

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Eddie Rabbitt - I Don't Know Where To Start

I hadn't heard this song in a while. Then it pops up on my radio while I'm driving home from work on a rainy day.  So perfect, so fitting. Love this song

Eddie Rabbitt - I Don't Know Where To Start lyrics

LyricsMode.com
 

Much ado about shoe (..or stripper shoes not allowed)

 

Stripper shoes?



Recently in my office, the question of appropriate office footwear came into sharp focus. The opening shot in this shoe saga, seems to have been the return of one of the ladies to work, after a 3 week break wearing, what I generally consider to be, stripper shoes. You know the kind .. suede platforms with 6-inch heels. The kind that make me take one look at them, clutch my back and moan, "Oy vey!". The young miss (they're always young, aren't they) was called into the manager's office and advised not to return to work in those shoes. Shortly after that, a safety article was re-circulated in the office advising all of the safest heel height for shoes (for those of you who don't know, it's 1-1/2 inch). Anything higher than that, the article pointed out, increases the risk of trips, slips and falls, and is generally a safety issue. Much ado about shoes!

I remember at the first job I had, footwear was extremely conservative. "Court shoes", they said. No toes (or even toe cleavages) were to be showing. No wedges, no slingbacks, no platforms, no patterned shoes and heel height was to be a minimum of 2 inches and a maximum of 3 inches. Even the guys were restricted - lace up oxfords or loafers (no tassels). Deck shoes or sneakers NOT ALLOWED!






But the question still remains - is what is deemed acceptable office footwear really just a manifestation of someone's personal preference? Personally, I still can't get used to members of my team wearing high-heeled strappy sandals to work - a hold-over from the years spent at my first job. Do I have the right to tell those who report to me that they are not appropriate office footwear? Uh, I don't THINK so! But what if MY boss doesn't want them in the office? What then?






The truth be told, we ladies know that the shoes we wear are NOT chosen for their safety features. We generally choose shoes because they're cute and, whether we want to admit it or not, because they make us feel sexy. Will that have a negative effect on our personal productivity? Why should it?! Is what we wear on our feet indicative of what's going on in our heads? Um... I should hope not. Does wearing sensible oxfords help women climb the corporate ladder faster than peep toe wedges? Or will we distract the young hot-shot gunning for that corner office by strutting around in 6-inch heels? (Hey - if he's THAT easily distracted, maybe he isn't cut out for the corner office anyway!)






As for the young lady in the “stripper shoes”, turns out that the manager’s preference aside, there wasn’t anything in the company’s policies that spoke to allowed (or disallowed) heel heights. So she continues to wear these shoes (oy vey!) to work. But I do pray that, for her sake, there isn’t an emergency evacuation on any day that she’s wearing them!



* ~ * ~* ~* ~ * ~ * ~* ~* ~* ~ * ~* ~* ~ * ~ * ~* ~* ~* ~ * ~* ~* ~ * ~ * ~* ~* ~* ~ * ~* ~* ~ *
15SEP2010

As fate would have it, there was an emergency evacuation drill today at the office. And yes, she was wearing the 6-inch high shoe heels. Unfortunately, I didn't get to see how she manoeuvred her feet getting out of the building.

Reclaiming ME . . .

I bought a book yesterday! Actually I bought TWO!! Murder mystery novels - my favourite kinds. Big hairy deal, you may be saying. Well, actually, for me it is. Here's why . . .

I haven't read a book for fun in so long I actually can't remember the last time. That bothers me a LOT. Reading has been an integral part of my life all my life. For me .. it was the greatest escape. When I was lost in a book, a megaton bomb could go off beside me and I probably wouldn't hear it.

I was never seen without a book. Some 30 years later, I still have childhood friends who comment that one of the enduring memories they have of me is that I was always reading. Luckily for me, I had a Mom who was also known for loving to read. So, she encouraged us as kids to read and fed this addiction by always getting us more books. One of her favourite stories is one where we had walked to town (we lived in "the country") and she bought us our latest issues of Nancy Drew (me) and Hardy Boys (my brother). On our walk back we read our books - finishing them before we reached back home.

So what happened that caused my absolute love of reading to falter? I was discussing this with a friend who gave me my "A-ha" moment. She mentioned that she stopped reading for fun after her daughter was born. That was it! And I know why too. A lot of pregnancy books tell you that after having a baby you will find yourself to be VERY fatigued. Babies are very demanding they say and they are right. Your time is not your own. Your attention span becomes very limited as you're always on for the baby. I remember growing to love CNN's Headline News as I got news in little nuggets - all I could manage at a time. Losing myself in a book became a casualty of my being a new mom.

But it became the first of many things I sacrificed as I tackled the triple threat of being a good wife, mom and career woman. Little by little, I lost ME. I no longer did what I wanted - I did what was good for my husband, my kids, my job. Although they didn't demand this of me, I felt that the ME was expendable, and besides - wasn't this my role now?

This past year, perhaps triggered by my milestone birthday, I decided, "Enough!". I started searching for ME - little by little reclaiming the things that used to make me happy. So I started going to movies by myself like I used to before I met my husband. I bought new make-up, I started getting my nails done. I even signed up for a short writing course (writing was another childhood love). All the things that preceded being a wife and mom. And I realized that I wasn't abandoning my family or even my career. I was enriching them by reclaiming ME.


So - like I used to do, I'm curling up in bed, happily immersed in a book and feeling more peaceful. Yay ME!

... and they call it mid-life crisis.

When I imagined myself at the age that I am now, I had a very clear picture of what I would be like.  I'd be free from the corporate life, having my own successful business that allowed my uniform to be jeans and a polo shirt. I'd be tooling around town in my red Jeep Wrangler, picking my kids up at prep school (I always knew I'd have kids later rather than sooner). I'd have the top of my Jeep down and hop out, wearing my signature cowboy boots, tossing my locs over my shoulder. Yeah.. That's the ticket!


So how does my mental picture stack up, now that I'm at that age? Well ....

Locs - check
Cowboy boots - check
Young kids - check
Red Jeep Wrangler - we-e-e-l-l-l does a scale model count?


As for the rest, why depress myself even further? So, what happened? I chose the safe road. Buried myself in trying to climb the corporate ladder, becoming a wife and mother. Silencing the rebel in me and bringing forth the my sane and sensible person . In a word, I grew BORING!

Psychologists have a phrase for where I am now - mid-life crisis. According to Wikipedia, a mid-life crisis is ". . . a period of dramatic self-doubt that is felt by some individuals in the "middle years" or middle age of life, as a result of sensing the passing of their own youth and the imminence of their old age". Yup .. in that case, I'm a classic example. Perhaps it was the realization that my second child would be entering college at about the time that I'd be slated to retire that triggered it for me. Whatever it is, life is too short to remain in stasis.

So that mental picture may not be quite what I'd imagined but it's not over yet. I have two lovely boys (7 & 4), a husband I consider my soulmate, a fairly decent job on in a field that I love. And one that I'm working with my friends on converting to our own  business. It ain't all bad .. but I intend for it to get better.

I remember Donny Osmond singing back in the day "And they call it Puppy Love...". I need a song for this period of my life. Perhaps Donny can help - after all, he seems to have gone thru that himself (how else do explain that  "White and Nerdy" music video?).

As for me .. I'm coming out swinging. My intention is to use this blog to document my steps towards achieving the vision I had for myself.  Stasis means death. Me - I intend to be Kicking it!