Easing Through the Week...

If you haven't noticed, I've been trying to get my infernal checklist completed this week.  Let's just say it's been quite the challenge.  I've been trying to also let myself ease through the week by not putting too much pressure on myself in other aspects...ahem, like doing the dishes or laundry!

It feels a lot like a marathon I've been running nonstop for two years, now.  Not only am I exhausted, I am SO ready for the finish line!  Wish me luck!

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To do.

Well, I think Spring has finally arrived!  Along with it comes a monumental checklist.  I thought I'd post it here to have a little more accountability in ticking things off the list!

• Finish thesis presentation.
• Finish THESIS!
• Clean out my pantry.
• Take the pups on more walks.
• Finish my clinical rotation.
• Finish leadership presentation.
• Finish leadership paper.
• Defend thesis.
• Breathe.

Do you have a spring cleaning list?

Source

On Setting Boundaries...

I know we've broached this subject before, but I thought it was important to revisit.  Mostly because I am realizing how guilty women are made to feel when they say "no."

Please correct me if I'm wrong, but do we women start policing each other and how much we've sacrificed with our jobs, families, and relationships?  I feel this, "Well, I did it so you should have to now," mentality permeating my everyday life!  I know I sound naive, but I've had the privilege to work in some relatively martyr-free environments in my day...and I think it spoiled me!

So how do I draw my proverbial line in the sand without seeming like a laze or unambitious?  Is there any happy ground?  I feel (many, not all, of course) men are given respect when they say something conflicts with their schedule, but a rationale must be given from a woman.  What gives and how do we fix it?

Wishes Wednesday

This wishes Wednesday has something that I just received for my birthday from Shug...and a plea for the next six weeks to fly by.  Never in my life have I wanted the clock to tick more quickly.  In six weeks I will be done with school!

This Hello sweatshirt is soooo soft and I see myself wearing it with skinny jeans now and maybe with some white cutoffs with the sleeves rolled up in the cooler months of summer.  OKAY!  Now, hurry on up, summer!

Friday Link Love and Lovelies

I have a funny secret: I have never used a curling iron on my hair until a couple of weeks ago!  I was scarred as a little kid when one of the girls in my 3rd grade class came to school with a burnt and blistered ear from curling her hair by herself.  It took me a good 20 years to muster up the courage to use a curling iron by myself!  Above is the not-so-great result of 30 minutes in the grips of fear.  My talents lie in other areas...like how many cupcakes consumed within a 24-hour time period.

This week marks the beginning of my last clinical rotation until graduation...I am so very scared and relieved that this educational journey is winding down.  I really should say winding UP, since I still have to finish my research, write my thesis, defend my thesis...............Let's not talk about this anymore, as the panic attack is setting in as I type!  Needless to say, my next few weeks (and weekends;( ) will be filled with the stuff of science-y insanity.

Here's a little escape if your weekend is going to be as busy as mine!

~ Those brows!

~ Love the pops of color in this serene house.

~ No kidding.  That's why you use the LED light!

~ Or these.  KIDDING.

~ Controversial! I love cream blush so I don't have to use a brush.

~ My hopes are still high for the hoverboard.

~ I'm going to make a big pot of this for the weekend!

xo

Jumping Back In.

Yesterday was a big day for me.  This is the last week of classes for my master's degree before graduation and I found out I was accepted to another master's program.  The program is another two years of insane coursework and, of course, tuition. 

I spent the entire day with my stomach on knots.  It was a crazy-competitive program and I got accepted!  But how could I ask Shug to take on another 2 years of lean living and stress?  This program is in an ever-expanding field, but I have a degree in hand that could lead to lucrative jobs in a sadsack economy.  I was so looking forward to not being in school, yet I was mourning my last days of academic discussion and discourse.  This program is something I really want to do.  And be good at.

Two years is such a loooong time, but it seems really short in the grand scheme of things.  Student loans are the bane and the lifeblood of my education.  I worried that my brain isn't going to be as sharp as it needs to be with the difficult coursework, but I feel I can work my butt off to get it to the level it needs to be.  I pretty much worried about everything.

So I jumped back in.  I accepted the position this morning and I start in the fall.  Two more years, or 21 months if we want to be exact, and then, maybe then, I'll be ready for adulthood;)!  Have you ever taken a leap in a different direction?  I only want to hear the positive stories;)!

Beauty is Everywhere

Beautiful.

The Art of Saying "No."

I've always been a pleaser.  Blame my birth order as the eldest child or my propensity to try to fix everything I see as "broken," but I just want to make people happy.  In many ways this is a blessing, since I am going into a helping profession that demands lending an ear sans judgment on a ridiculously regular basis.  But I've started, yes, just barely started, to realize I need to start policing my resources.

This realization came after a particularly arduous day at work, followed by another "crisis" that demanded my attention into the wee hours of the morning.  Do you know who I didn't get to ask how their day was, after talking about how everyone else's day was ad nauseam?  Shug.  Do you know who had to eat dinner by himself as I attended to the rest of the world's issues?  Shug.  Do you know who pulled the covers over me and turned out the light when I had crumpled into bed after I had exhausted every last resource of energy I had for the day? Shug.

So, lines in the sand have been drawn.  I am now set to protect the modicum of safety and sanity we've built together.  This is hard for me.  I'm practically unwinding my own DNA every time I tell a person "no" now.  It's hard because I do care about these people that ask and ask and ask, but I also need to start caring a little more about me.  I'm not talking about being selfish, just reserving enough for myself so I am capable enough to attend to my own relationships and priorities.  Typing that just gave me a migraine.

Is it difficult for you to tell people "no?"

Source.

Swoon

Ah-Young Oh from the Pratt Institute created a final jewelry piece

for her senior project.

She was inspired by portraits painted of Renaissance nobles,

especially the hairstyles and powdered wigs of the women.

I don't know abut you, but I'm feeling a bit of the vapors

coming on with this amazing ring.

A book for the reading pile: Middlesex

A few years ago, under prompting from Bestest Best and Oprah, I tried to start Middlesex. I must not have been feeling as fortified as one should to read of metaphorical, literal, and cultural genocides. I threw in the towel a mere hundred pages in.

I regretted it.

Last week, at the urgings of my abominable cold, I tucked into my couch and started Middlesex from the beginning. I was so happy I did.

I don't want to give too much away about the characters or the plot, but I will say you will be pulling for characters and their horrific actions with irreparable consequences just a few chapters in.

The nature of straddling two worlds is explored in depth in this book: the Old World vs. the New World, Eurocentric "Americanism" vs. Hellenic assimilation, gender roles vs. biological sex classification, incestuous love vs. forced pair bonding, and being a man vs. being a woman vs. being both. Um, LOTS was covered in this amazing multi-generational story.

The beauty of Jeffery Eugenides's writing had the pages turning at a rate unnoticed to me. I was so compelled to keep on with Calliope's journey...and her grandparents', and her parents' journeys, I was shocked when I had reached the last page.

I truly believe Middlesex will become a modern classic. It traces the history of a young country along with the mutation of a human gene, passed from generation to generation - the only remnant of a rich heritage so quickly forgotten in the name of homogeneity...the American way.


Also, thanks to Kenzie for the post on the benefits of reading the printed word. I hope to never live in a world without books.

Weekend Ready.

I've never been happier to see a weekend in a while!
(And, no, it's not because it's the Superbowl on Sunday!)

It won't even be that restful of a weekend,
but sometimes it's nice to just leave a stressful week behind!

I'm going to a psychology conference all day on Saturday,
what are your plans for the weekend??

xo

Photo by Shug.

Trying Something New

Last night a former coworker and good friend, Grace, stopped by to discuss her new logo design with Shug. She needs a logo for her coffee shop that will be opening in a little over a month. It was just a few weeks ago that she and I worked our last shift together at the coffee shop where I am still employed. Grace had been at the shop for about seven years.

Words can't describe how proud I am of her! Lately, I've been beginning to feel the pressures of adulthood and the realization that many things are NOT possible if I just put my mind to them...I'm not complaining about this fact, just recognizing that I never will become a surgeon or physician; a life goal that I finally retired after years of rejection letters, a depleted bank account, and the selfishness of living a life where I can be present with my loved ones. I also will never be a rock star, but we needn't delve into my "woulda-coulda-shoulda" list...!

What I am so very proud of is Grace's ability to stick to her dream, her tenacity through all of the tar and cement and sludge that settles in as we near certifiable "adulthood." We both have worked for small businesses our entire lives, but always for men. Now Grace will be a female business-owner where the stats say it's still 300 men to 1 woman. I admire her so much for uprooting herself from her comfort zone, her routine, her everyday life to dream big. I admire her because she is strong, brave, and a little bit crazy.

I'm going to take Grace's jump into business ownership as a lesson and an inspiration: even if some dreams may not be attainable any more, there are still new ones that can be created.

So, New Decade, let's try something new...

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Busy Weekend

This is the look I had on my face when I found out I am going to church on Sunday...

After years of Catholic school and living in Utah,
I decided I wasn't built for the normal, church-going life.

I have a deep respect for devout individuals of all religious affiliations
and sometimes envy the faith many of my closest friends draw their personal strength from.

As part of a multicultural immersion project for class,
I am going to revisit some of the religious services that played such a huge part in shaping the woman I am today.

I'm just hoping there aren't any lightning bolts thrown my way...

I'll let you know how it goes.

What plans do you have this weekend?

Where have you been all my life, lady?

Hell to the yes.

Tipping Etiquette Revistited

Those outside of Utah may be surprised to know that Utahns are OBSESSED with Mexican food.

Now before you non-Utahns allow your heads to explode, I'll qualify that statement with the KIND of Mexican food we 'Tahns love: we love practically spice-free, cheese-laden, super-cheap "Mexican" food. We line up in herds each night for tortillas you could wrap around your head and "salads" with enough melted cheese on it to make nachos blush. This classification is such a far cry form the original goodness of foods like carne asada and carnitas, a "true" Mexican food fan would tear up and throw their plate of Mexican-Wannabe food to the ground.

So in my hankering the other night for some quality Mexican-Wannabe food, Shug and I found ourselves at a local fave, La Puente. La Puente is the kind of place where for under $20, you and your date can eat enough to last until next Thursday. If you drink the firewater, you'll still get outta there for under $20, with just a few less leftovers.

There's a little quirk about many Utahns: they don't know/don't want to know/pretend not to know how to tip. The average gratuity for a meal of, oh say, $20 is around 2 bucks...yes, 200 pennies...for waiting on a table of Utahns whose sour cream needs could not be satiated with five extra sides brought throughout the course of their meal.

Those who know me well also know of my dependence on the service industry. I've paid my way through school a few times with tips and gratuities. I'm STILL a slave to this industry even as I reach the end of my twenties and a graduate degree. Those who are in the service industry alongside me also know there is a code of tipping that shan't be deviated from...25% is where you START and you can go up from there if the service was better than expected. This really isn't such a jump from the standard 15-20% that regular janes and joes are supposed to tip...but in Utah, it's leaps and bounds above the standard 5-10% tippage.

Our server at La Puente was AMAZING. He had at least 12 tables accommodated and served their extra sour cream in a jiffy. He brought out my margarita with a sidecar of extra goodness and ice saying he "didn't want to waste the rest, so you might as well drink it!" Our chips were bottomless, as was our salsa. Honestly, he was the best server I'd had the pleasure of encountering in awhile.

So, in accordance to service industry tipping etiquette, I left him $8 for our staggering $25 bill.

While I was finishing my margarita, he returned to our table and removed his wallet and started fishing through a thick pile of business cards. He removed a card that looked like it had been taken in and out of his packed wallet a number if times, the corners of the card burnished down to rounded, fuzzy edges. It was his own "Buy 10 meals, get the 11th free" card to La Puente. He sheepishly explained that we, "could get a meal if it were under $7 for free the next time we came in," as he slid the card across the table to me. He gave us a quick smile and hurried off to another table in dire need of its third bucket o' chips refill.

It was such a sweet gesture, I was speechless. Shug and I looked at each other and we shook our heads. We didn't tip so we could get our server's free meal card. We looked out at the other tables in the restaurant and could tell it had been a lean night of tips before we'd arrived.

What Weekend?

Whoa. This weekend was so fun and I'm exhausted! We had a Friendsgiving Feast along with a Friendsgiving miracle! I'm sure this week is going to be just as crazy for you as it is for me! In my love of making checklists, lets indulge ourselves, shall we?

• Make checklist. Check.
  
• Write asinine paper for online class of death.
• Write letter to department concerning asinine peeps teaching asinine classes.
• Wait to mail letter until grades are posted.
  
• Write paper for substance abuse class.
• Finish project for group counseling class.
• Take the Rubester to the vet to check her stitches.
• Get some puppy Valium so Rubes will allow for said stitches to heal.
  
• Work!
• Let Shug use the computer...At least a little.
  
• Work out...the hallowed treadmill is here!
• Get thyself to a Thanksgiving Feast.
• Before feasting, make mashers.
• Have a girl's day with Shug's sisters.
• DO NOT SHOP.

What fun things do you have on your checklist this week? I'm saving the decorating for the holidays until next week...That is a checklist in and of itself!

Photo via Shug before the Friendsgiving Feast!

Tears while Teaching, a Series

Ok, so it's not a series, but I actually HAVE been able to muster some semblance of emotion when dealing with humans involved in violent hormonal transformations that effects mind, soul, and patches of short and curly hair.

Last week I had to teach a lesson on steroid use. About 3% of Granite high school students actually use steroids. The percentage of Granite students that abuse prescription drugs is close to 25%, but it would be ridiculous to have a lesson focused on that!

So back to the 'roids.

My teaching partner and I made up gender-specific Jeopardy-like games to try make this dry and oh-so-pertinent lesson fun. One of the schools I teach at has VERY few students that could be considered belonging to a minority demographic, but the kids that do fall into this category are usually extremely athletically gifted and have been "drafted" from other parts of the Salt Lake Valley to play at this "winning" high school.

One of the health classes I teach has a bruiser of a kid in it. He's well over 6 feet tall, at least 200 pounds, facial hair, the whole 9 yards. He looks like he might be able to throw a football. And he has quite a bit of trouble with his English. He's improved so much over the course of the school year, due to sheer survival techniques, especially since his teachers can't/refuse to help him in Spanish when he has a question.

So, naturally, there are some words he's still working on.

In my zeal to get all of the boys involved in the lesson, I didn't give them the choice to "opt out" of answering a question, as I had in previous lessons. I had totally forgotten about this student until he was standing in front of the class, ready for the next Jeopardy question. I'm sure he and I were whispering the same prayer that the question be relatively easy to understand.

Of course it wasn't. But since he is a competitive soul, he rang the buzzer first and then looked at me with an "Oh-great-now-what-do-I-do?" expression on his face. He had totally understood the question, but I could tell he was struggling for the answer in English.

He mumbled, "I...don't know it...in, um...English." The class was dead quiet for the first time all morning. We were all holding our breath.

So I responded as his face turned red, "En espanol esta bien." He let out the air in his lungs in a sharp breath, like he'd been punched in the stomach.

"En serio?" he asked. Yes, I was "for real" and I was trying to keep it together now, since his eyes had glassed over and a look of relief had washed over his face.

I totally understood how he was feeling. When I was entrenched in a study abroad in Valpariaso, Chile, no one, I mean NO ONE spoke English. My brain was ALWAYS working, even when I didn't want it to. Driving by billboards, having the radio on in the background, listening to the conversations on the bus, even the box of damn tissues I cried into - all had to go through a multi-step translation in my brain. It was an exhausting process. Whenever I came across a fellow English-speaker, it was cause for celebration. And a much-needed break for my brain.

He answered the question in Spanish, "Los pulmones...?"

It was wrong.

Gah! I wanted so badly for him to get it right! But at least he was able to communicate his wrong answer to me. He smiled sheepishly as the other team stole the question and went back to his seat.

After the game was over and the boys were shuffling out of class, he straggled behind and gave me a beautiful smile with a jock-nod. He was totally the victor that day. Somebody understood him.