Sunday, April 28, 2013

Crazy good time - and good timing!

I've been living with my big sweet man in his house for a little over 3 years. I tried to sell my house shortly after moving in with him. It got plenty of views, but nobody liked it enough to put in an offer. In between, it's been rented and I've been fortunate to have good enough tenants to take care of it. That said, I still lost money on the deal and always worried about what could or would go wrong. So I have spent the last 1-2 months wearing out my property manager/realtor that I wanted to get my house on the market, now that the economy seems to be recovering.

The house was set to list yesterday. My realtor got a jump on the process and listed it a couple of days early - on Wednesday. On Thursday morning, I get a text message from her telling me to check my email because there are some documents to complete. I didn't really read the text message. I went back to my office, printed off the documents and tried to figure out who this person was on my paperwork... then I realized that it was a contract to buy my house. I went back and read the text message and literally freaked out. I had an offer on my house for the asking price before I even realized it had hit the market! How awesome is that?!?! I'm STILL reeling from the opportunity to be relieved of that house.

Today was inspection - I am dreading reading about what needs to happen to the house- is it possible that it could be just fine? I'm hoping for minimal/no repairs.

When I was working in the yard at home today, where I live now, I was thinking about what my house meant to me. When I grew up, we lived in a trailer park. It was nice for what it was, and our mobile home was nice - for what it was. But I always had a fear for inviting friends over because I didn't want them to judge me on where I came from - I wanted them to base their judgment on me alone. And for the most part, I was able to avoid much harassment. But I always felt inferior. Purchasing my house - the one I want to get out of so badly now - was my dream come true. It was the ONE thing I wanted more than anything else. It wasn't the fanciest house, but it was just right for me. And the greatest, best thing was that it helped me finally get over my insecurities about where I came from. It was proof to me that I had arrived.

Now, I hope that that little house can make another family's dream come true. I hope it brings joy to them, that it protects them and gives them a place to grow tons and tons of memories. I hope that it helps them realize their worth and their potential, too. A home can do that.

Monday, April 22, 2013

Frustrations and Perspective

In my younger days I was married. He was a good person, but ultimately was unable to handle the day-to-day challenges that come with the expected functionings of adulthood. During that time, I managed to increasingly cope by shopping, hanging with friends and "getting a lil' drink on." It was my way of coping with an unhappy situation, and I definitely didn't cope the right way. Over a series of several years and with interest how it is on credit cards, I find myself years later still trying to climb out of the hole I/we dug all of those years ago. It sucks.

On the one hand, I know I could probably give up, file for bankruptcy - or at least loan consolidation. But I've worked my ass off to ensure my credit stays in respectable shape, even if I don't have any credit left to give. And besides, I knew, sorta, what I was doing when I did it, and now I'm paying the consequences for it. I've earned it. I get it. But a little break sure would be nice.

The most frustrating part now is that I have a rather big "X" factor I'm having to contend with. I don't know the length to which I will be needed to help, and I don't know how much to expect to need to deal with it. And then my "Y" factor is having my house go on the market this weekend. I'm cautiously optimistic it'll move quickly, which will really, really help the financial situation. Houses in my neighborhood have been flying off the market, so here's hoping mine will take off quickly as well. I only need to make a few minor fixes that I know of, so that's comforting. The "Z" factor is my car. My little Hoppity just crossed 200K, and is showing it! I'd like her to make it another year, but the reality is that the fixes she's going to be needing in the future aren't cheap ones. And who wants to constantly worry about whether the car is going to keep going or not?

At the end of the day, I'm wondering what to do for a steady side gig. I've got enough skills and talent to be useful for something, I just don't know what that is. And let's face it: who really wants to work more? Not this chick, but I think I want to have a secure financial future more than just having one job.

All that said, and given the tone of my April posts (hello, Debbie Downer!), there are two awesome things to April: bluebonnets (and Texas wild flowers in general) and the weather. It's been gorgeous these last few days, and I've been fortunate enough to take advantage of the glory. We have a crazy cold front coming in tonight, but it'll be a faded memory by Thursday. And this weekend is my first bike rally for the year. Just doing the short ride so we can get back to the festival for BEER!!

And because the good always outweighs the bad, I have had an awesome few days, catching up with old friends and hanging with some newer ones, too. I got to visit with my #1 blog supporter, whom I haven't seen in about 4 years. That was awesome. Given the fucked up male role models in my life (promise, I'm not saying that lightly), he has been a good one - even if he didn't come along until my mid-20s. And today was for catching up with an old co-worker-cum-friend who moved away, but is wholly responsible for the big guy and I getting together. She will always have a special place in my heart for pushing me to meet him.

Sometimes I need to remember these things because money and car parts will always come and go.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Thinking of West

The last time the Big Guy and I headed down to Austin together, we made a 3-hour drive last 8 hours. Part of the reason for the long, long detour was because we went into West. Most folks that drive the stretch between DFW and Austin know of the Czech community and the fabulous kolaches (and for me, the lemon pound cake) at the Czech Stop. On this particular drive, however, we decided to go "into town" because we had heard there was a good burger.

So after a little detective work, we found Nors Hamburgers and Sausage. The place is gorgeous - in an old storefront building with soaring cielings, wood floors and sturdy stony walls. And the folks inside Nors were so friendly and kind. After talking with our sweet waitress, owner and barkeep, we were directed to the Village Bakery around the corner. Again, we met another wonderfully kind, interesting woman. We talked to her for another 30 minutes, and were told to head further away from the main stretch into a little town called Tours. We followed her sage advice, but that's not the point I'm driving at.

Since that trip, we have talked about how that was the best trip we had ever taken to Austin, and the thing that made it awesome was the kind, interesting, home-town-proud the folks in West are. Even though our interaction with these faces was brief, they left a lasting impression. I couldn't tell you any of their names, but I can tell you what we talked about. And I can tell you how awesome their food was.

My heart aches for the community. West is such an amazing town full of wonderful, interesting people with a neat, distinctive heritage. My mind is in West today. My prayers go up to them. May they be blessed with comfort, love, support and peace.

NBCDFW.com lists the following ways to help:

provide temporary shelter: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1iUgQQikLFjziB3QzAhaVV-lnlqdllzUO4uhd24ryttg/viewform?pli=1

Donate at Point West Bank: 200 West Oak St., West, TX 76691

Donate blood: Carter Blood Care will host an event tonight at Medical City Children's Hospital in Dallas.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

April - the month where people go batshit crazy

When I first started working in higher ed, it was during the time of people going "postal" - letter carriers and the like had a way of shooting up their offices. I thought my choice in employment would be utterly free of such travesty, projecting my experience on the entire college-going population "How could anything ever go wrong? It's such a happy time!" Sure was nice to be naive.

For as long as I've worked in higher ed - 15 years, nearly to the day - I've noticed that students seem a little more squirrelly and crazy. Long before Columbine and Virginia Tech students seem just a little more on edge. They twitch a little more. Heck, I do too. For me, my focus is gone. Projects that normally come easily become painstakingly difficult. And I tend to suffer fools just a little less patiently. And I can't attribute it to the end of the semester, either. Working in a for-profit college where April fell in the first half of a trimester, students were just a little wonky. Working at a college with a traditional agrarian calendar enhances it a little.

Fast forward a few years, and it's hard not to notice the April pattern. It's like one long, not-so-funny April Fool's joke. And it's ex-hausting. Waco. Oklahoma City. Columbine. Virginia Tech. Lone Star (x2). Another in Virginia. Boston... All presumably the work of one or two madmen, carried out on their own, without the help of thousands of followers to do the dirty work. And it's frightening to think how those few handful of men have shaped how we think and act on a larger scale - at least for those of us in education.

The hardest one for me to wrap my brain around was Virginia Tech, I distinctly remember sitting in he parking lot at lunch time at a relatively new job. I hadn't made a lot of friends yet, and so the radio was my usual dining companion. I remember being SO distraught that I just couldn't really function for the rest of the day. So now I try to manage the input.

I always try to think of where I'd go and what I'd do if there was an active shooter on campus. In the places I frequent most, I have an exit strategy or a hide strategy. Given the cavernous nature of some parts of our building, running like hell works best. In other parts, there are places in the building few know exist. And I'm liking the odds for those locations.

But it can't just be about me. That's the tricky part. Our building is literally crazy. I've surprised some people when I've told them how many sets of stairs we have - they only see the main one but we have two more that are nestled away. Good thing we haven't had a fire. And today, as one of our sister campuses in the district went on lock-down, I was troubled to learn that many of our faculty didn't know how to lock their classrooms. On the positive side, at least we were able to have these discussions ahead of time, to play out the scenario should something really happen. But I'm left to wonder how many other folks simply haven't considered the simplest steps of safety. And that doesn't even scratch the surface of our students. Bless them - earbuds crammed in, volume cranked to 11, looking down at their screens... a bullet could blaze their tower and they'd never notice. We've got to make sure they're safe too. No time for "What?" Just DO IT!!!!!

In a lot of the higher ed articles I'm reading lately, they're relying on college counselors to help identify and guide these students before they pull the trigger or a knife. It's going to take a lot more than just funding for more counselors. It's going to take consistency of instruction from faculty - our adjunct faculty are awesome and do a great job, but they aren't tied into the campus like full-time faculty are to know what services are available. Further, if students ended up having to take full-time faculty more frequently then those faculty would be more likely to talk to each other and relate concerns about students, simply because they're paid to be on campus, be on committees and know each other. But I'll leave it to Dean Dad over at Inside Higher Ed to talk about the merits of full-time faculty and cohesive campus cultures.

I often give our emergency management guys a hard time. Just last week one of them was giving me hell for going out to lunch when there was nickel-sized hail about 10 miles away. I don't envy their jobs - most of us blow off emergency management until something hits close to home. But I'm certainly glad we have some men who truly give a damn. They see danger where I see inconvenience. They see need for action where I see a quirky personality.

So with today's episode in our district, I can't think of any way they could have handled the situation better. There was an armed man on or near the campus. They locked the campus down to ensure students were safe. While surrounding police departments were not able to find the man but determined he was not close to the campus, they released all students for the remainder of the day. It's not ideal to lose that kind of class time, but it ensures safety for our students.

So here's to the unsung emergency management folks. They don't get the praise or glory that police officers and firefighters get, but they help to make sure that those police officers and fire fighters know what to do, how to do it and when.

April, I won't be sad to see you go.

Monday, April 8, 2013

Remembering "Awesome"

I had my first good ride of the season yesterday. I finally have a respectable bike rack, and used it to meet up with some friends on the trails. It was cool, overcast and a little breezy. I was both excited to share the trails with my friends who had never been the distance and to feel that delicious, glorious feeling of the wind in my face, legs pumping,  stress receding... and that feeling of letting my cares simply fall away...

When I was a kid, I LOVED riding my bike. I had a hot pink dirt bike, and I rode that thing like it was going out of style. There was an empty field behind our 'hood, and it had beat-down trails from all of the kids doing donuts on the property. There were little jumps, too - I thought they were so huge back then. I'd ride hard and fast and if I was feeling exceptionally dangerous, I'd ride.... wait for it... hands-free!

That pink dirt bike was my ride when I wanted to get out. It was my transportation to visit the sweet older couple on the other side of the hood - he was a stroke survivor and the only thing he could say was, "HOOOOT DOOOOG!" Amazing how those two words can fit virtually any situation given the appropriate inflection. It was also my ticket to running away from home to my Nanny's house one time when I was trying to prove a child's point (I made it about 3/4 of a mile and got scared and headed back home.)

My bike was also my transportation. And the number one cause of 99% of my scars. I rode it to elementary school, crossing a rather busy road and climbing a steep hill. I also rode it to middle school, which also came with a complimentary hill, and all of the joy of being a greasy, awkward, sweaty pre-teen. I managed to get my duffle/book bag stuck in my spokes while pedaling more times than I care to imagine - landing on your face is never a way to successfully nail a dismount. At any rate, it was my way to relative freedom.

When i got into high school, I let go of my love of bicycles. I got my first car - a 1981 yellow Datsun 210 4-door - and I drove that thing literally to its death while I was in college.

And when the Bananamobile died, I had a bike. I rode it to my crappy restaurant job from my little apartment, and tore up fire roads in the national park outside of my college town.
I loved riding those trails. I was dating a total toolbag, but we had fun - and it was hysterical that he once ran from a few wild mustangs. Anyone EVER hear of attack horses?! Yeah, me either.

Fast forward nearly 20 years, and I've been reunited with my love of riding. The Big Guy and I started riding 3 years ago, and it'd literally exhaust us to ride 5 miles. It's something that we've grown to do together, and we've can do it alone - together. The best part is he rides his pace and I ride mine, knowing that he'll be waiting for me at the finish.

It's always good to remember that awesome feeling. It's easy to forget the freedom of a great bike ride when it's been cold and dreary. But 2 seconds in the saddle feels like heaven - well, except for the seat area. Some people think it's a weird/crazy hobby, but I love the challenge of setting and achieving new goals and getting away from phones, people... everything. Even if only for a few hours.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

A Million Thoughts and It's All Just noiseNoIsENOISE!!!

Geezums.... I've been Jonesing to write, and simply seem to have so much to say I don't know how to squeeze it all in. Friendships, family, politics, social issues, general injustices, daily victories and lamentations.... name it, it's been running through my mind. So I'll try to tackle some here.

Since this is a relatively benign topic, and just on the heels of Women's History Month, I've been thinking about women's issues. Given that I'm one of two resident scribes, it totally chaps my ass that nobody ever looks to a man to keep meeting minutes. I don't care if it looks like Jeffrey Dahmer channeled your hand for your awful chicken scratch... that's not what goes out in the official minutes. And it's not like I'm any less educated or have any small opinions... and I don't have a tool to make the process manageable during the meeting(s) so my day is then further comprimised by the need to transcribe minutes. My bitching would surely decrease if I had a work-issued tablet or laptop. Just sayin' (a lot, by the way.)

More to the point, we watched Miss Representation last week as one of the Women's History Month events. I found the documentary to be very interesting in many ways. It made me incredibly thankful that my mom was able to raise me in ways that gave me self-confidence, even if I'm not the most beautiful, most physically fit person ever. That's not to say that I don't ever feel "less than", but most days I can appreciate the unique beauty that lies in all of us. What struck me more in the documentary was how smart, hard-working women are perceived. I think there is some truth to the notion that women who go after what they want are perceived as conniving or bitchy. I'm pretty laid back and spend a great amount of time trying to diplomatically bring forth ideas... but I wonder if that's an offshoot of being a woman? Were I a man, would I give two shits how I am perceived? And what am I doing to shape how other young women perceive themselves and others? Do I joke around too much? Do I not redirect questionable behavior enough? Who's to say? I do try to provide a listening ear and see the world through their view and go from there.

And how does sexuality play into all of this? I can appreciate a certain level of promiscuity and whatnot.... but at what point does a woman sell herself short? You can argue the point that men do it, so women should do it too. But *most* women can't walk away from sex like men can. It's just not in our DNA. So many women play the game, give it up in the first couple of weeks of dating, and then what: the challenge is gone? she was suddenly too easy? she's too needy or wants too much of a relationship?! It's no wonder so many women are batshit - can't win for losing!

And let me be clear: this isn't just man-bashing. Fellas, you have your own crosses to bear. You're expected to be strong, be the breadwinner, still hang with the guys, climb your career ladder, deal with crazy women (every man has at least 1-2 crazy women - she may not be at home, but that bitch is somewhere!) and still come home to a woman who was so quick to give it up when you first started dating to being frozen out of intimacy a few years later. It's basically just a cycle of brain-fuck. It's amazing there are EVER success stories.

And then there's the talk of equal rights for gays and same-sex marriage. At the end of the day, there's simply not enough love to go around. I applaud anyone who attempts marriage. While I struggle with my own thoughts and ideas about marriage, I still am stunned when I find married couples who are truly happy together. Heteros sure haven't done a good job of holding the sanctity of marriage to any respectable standard - least not in this chick's world. And as far as equal rights go, we ALL should have the right to be able to go to work and come home without fear of harm, harassment, or retribution. We should ALL be able to love and love in return. Just because I'm not gay doesn't mean that I have the right to lay judgments on people. The only thing I need to do is focus on trying to treat people with kindness... except for that one hetero bitchlet coworker - but she has earned the wrath of many. :)

I had the opportunity to try and help someone today whose situation is like looking into a crystal ball of what could be a close family member in a few months if things don't turn around. Helping this student was like putting all the effort I feel like I can't put into my family situation because this student seems to actually value my concern and opinion... not that those aren't considered by the family member, but I think a little distance can go a long way in helping some folks work through stuff. And sometimes close family is just not far enough - for perspective or anything else. On the one hand, I get it. On the other it's SO incredibly frustrating I just want to scream.

Mid-May simply cannot get here soon enough. I need my big sweet man back home for good. There are plenty of things to keep me occupied between now and then - and I'm certainly grateful for the distractions. But this time apart has helped me to realize just how very much he means to me. I hate that we are having to be apart, but I am certainly grateful for the fresh perspective it's brought to our relationship. I think we're certainly stronger for it, even if it SUCKS in the mean time.

Well the voices seem somewhat sated...