Lack of resolve

My least favorite time of year is New Year's Eve. I hate it with a passion unmatched by any other time of year, including my birthday.

I suspect I am not alone. It reminds me of opportunities missed, goals unmet, and any other personal shortcomings revealed as I look in the mirror. Yes, I can throw myself a helluva pity party on New Year's Eve, no champagne necessary.

Long ago, I stopped making resolutions. It wasn't worth it because, like many others, I get maybe 3 months into the new year and fall off whatever wagon I put myself on then beat myself up for doing so.

This morning I was yelling at a politician on television for walking back a statement he made last week that I supported. "Show some self respect for heaven's sake! You've been insulted, patronized and marginalized by the White House. Stop grabbing your ankles and going back for more!" (I know, it's a crude image but I was really steamed.) He was attempting to display a silk purse made from a sow's ear known as the Senate health care bill.

Show some self respect. A case of the pot calling the kettle black.

I am the eldest of three girls and a boy. When I was growing up, this was the script written for us girls: Graduate from high school, then college. Find a good job, a nice guy, then settle down and when you start a family, quit your job and be a stay at home mom to raise your children. While the conventional wisdom states that fathers of daughters are more likely to encourage them to pursue careers, my father was just conventional. We were never encouraged to have a career. We were told in so many ways that it was appropriate to set aside any ambitions we may have had when we started our families. You weren't expected to have a life; your family was your life.

I didn't follow the family script. I was the only daughter to combine work and family. I knew what the trade-offs were and sometimes found myself regretting not chaperoning a class field trip or volunteering in the school library or being able to go to Muffins with Mom for Mother's Day. Work represented security and a way to retain my independence.

However, I internalized the family script in other ways. 'Sure, grab as many as you want!' is a natural exclamation when I lay down that plate of homemade meatballs ('my grandma's recipe!') in front of the table of famished loved ones. It's always my initial instinct to make sure others are well-fed first. But I don't always notice that while I've worked to stuff their bellies full of goodness… I don't bother to save much for myself. Hardly the proper nutrition required to keep my engines running and the meatball assembly-line in production. This, of course, is about emotional energy as much as it is food.

The way to achieve that balance is self respect: Respect for my time and my own needs, which I subordinate to others' far too often that leads to a "what about me?!?" sense of dissatisfaction.

A sense of entitlement. A sense of self respect. A need to heed the call to prioritize my own needs as well as theirs.

I need to reinforce my shield of self-protective boundaries and, therefore, my sense of self respect. It's hard to acknowledge my tendency not to ask for, or expect, any specific benefits or favors or tangible shows of support from another person (scared of rejection? confused about what I want? silently aware, but in denial, of the fact that they aren't presently capable of providing?) yet I must draw a line somewhere.

I've spent nearly six years engaged in an activity and I have precious little to show for it. I hesitate to ask for something more than I think I deserve. I've consistently put someone else's needs ahead of my own and my well is running dry.

So not necessarily a resolution but a work in progress (I hope!) is to treat myself with the importance I usually bestow on others and nurture a better sense of self respect. Christmas break is a good time to test the waters. We'll see how it goes.

iPod Saturday

Sex Pistols - Jingle Bells



It's been snowing since about 8:30 last night. I ran out at 7 last night to make some quick holiday treat deliveries. At 1 PM we surpassed the record of 12" set in December 1932 and a blizzard warning is now in effect until 6 p.m., covering most of the metropolitan DC region. Snow was falling at the rate of one to two inches an hour throughout the morning, and is now probably two to three inches an hour. Officials have been pleading with people to stay home if they don't have to be out. Lots of motorists spent the night at the side of the road because road conditions were too slippery. Any shoveling done this morning has long been covered over by fresh snow.

The grocery shopping was done yesterday but since we're leaving Tuesday morning, I didn't buy a lot of milk, which was a mistake. Depending on tomorrow's weather we may hike to the grocery store and see what's available.

Tomorrow is the Christmas pageant and although it hasn't been canceled, the only people showing up may be Mary and a star. The Heir is one of the Wise Men and I've decided we're not going. We'd have to leave at 8 AM and I don't think road conditions will be any better.

I am also unwell, and feeling like a cold is coming on. I'm trying to head it off but I think I'm in need of a nap under a nice warm blanket.

iPod Saturday

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) - Darlene Love



Some days I think I'd give my heart and soul to be able to open my mouth and sing like that, especially to someone special.

Spare me the drama

Normally I look forward to Wednesday, primarily because it's Food Section Day in the major newspapers. This morning, the alarm went off at 5:15 with heavy,heavy rain outside and I think, "Crap. It's only Wednesday."

I got a phone call Monday from the husband of a friend. I'm friendly with both of them but the wife and I are closer. Their marriage has been rocky for some time and she moved out over the summer. Their 2 kids have been spending a week with him and a week with her. I thought things were functioning well enough that if they did split for good they had an arrangement that worked.

The Caller ID showed it was my friend's number so I picked up. I was surprised to hear her husband on the other end, asking me if I had a few minutes to talk. I hadn't seen or talked to him since August. He asked me to keep our conversation confidential and not tell anyone.

I agreed, not knowing what he had to say. I shouldn't have agreed in retrospect.

The 45-minute conversation that followed was a near-chronological timeline documenting my friend's infidelity. Actually, it was a monologue. I just listened. When he started off by telling me of an anonymous phone call he got last year asking him if he knew his wife was screwing around with another man, I thought the safest course was to say nothing.

It went on and on in painstaking detail. By the time he was done, he had painted a picture where he was the patient, long-suffering spouse who had lost 35 pounds through anxiety and was on medication while she had basically ditched her family for a mid-life crisis affair. He told me if there were a scintilla of a chance, he would try to save his marriage.

When I got off the phone I was angry at both of them.

I was angry at my friend not because I was necessarily convinced but that he had created a reasonable doubt in my mind that she wasn't being honest with me. I had gone over to her place a couple of months ago for lunch and she confided nothing to me about having an affair nor gave any indication there was someone else. If she was having an affair, it's possible she was more afraid of my reaction, that I would think less of her. While smart people make really dumbass mistakes, you put on your big girl panties and deal with the consequences: Get the divorce or drop the boyfriend and work on your marriage.

I can forgive almost anything but if I find out you betrayed my trust, forget it. You would have to walk on hot coals or broken glass to convince me to trust you again. It's just that simple.

As for the husband, I think I know why he chose to confide in me and provided an exquisitely detailed timeline of events. He's building a case for adultery. And yes, he is a lawyer. His specialty was enforcing child support.

In Virginia, adultery is one of only five grounds to grant an absolute divorce and there is no time limit involved (as in a voluntary separation for a year). There is no such thing as a pleasant adultery case. Names, dates, places all come into the open. In reviewing what he told me did I hear:

1. Names? Check. I heard the name of my friend's alleged paramour.
   
2. Dates? Check. It was a timeline of events beginning in fall 2008.
   
3. Places? Check. I heard about trips to New York and Orlando as well as local events.

So why am I angry at him? He said he respected me but if he really had any respect for me, he would not have put me in this position. (As I said, I shouldn't have agreed in retrospect.) I have nothing to go on but his word. No evidence of how the anonymous caller knew about the affair. I haven't seen the e-mails he claimed to pull off her computer. Nothing except what he told me.

No, I suspect I'm being set up as a "corroborative witness" of some kind.

To establish adultery, there must be clear, positive, and convincing evidence of both disposition and opportunity. Was there disposition? One event he told me of was going to pick her up at the airport and seeing her walk down the hallway holding hands with this other man. Was there opportunity? Another time he went to her apartment at 1:30 AM to find it empty and saw a big bouquet of flowers.

Then there are the kids. Adultery may impact custody if the adultery is proven to have harmed or impaired the children. While adultery won't affect alimony, it is taken into consideration. I can see where this will go: Not only does he get custody he'll also get as much alimony as he can (he's been out of work for about a year).

Grrrr.

Over the past couple of days I've decided that I won't say anything unless I'm asked. So if my friend asks me if I've spoken to her husband, the answer will be yes and here's what he said.

And if that's not enough, I'm in the midst of trying to transform the dynamic of another relationship into something that more closely reflects what I actually feel. Meaning, no longer pretending I'm fine with one kind of relationship when what I really want is something very different. It's like being held in a state of suspended interpersonal development.

And truth be told, the specifics of the other person's present life circumstances are not the issue. That is, being too concerned for what's going on with them and how I might dip and swerve around my needs to accommodate them doesn't cut it anymore.

What's holding me back? My own questions about "Who am I to make demands?" and being attuned to someone else's needs and not my own. I deserve to be nurtured as I desire. That's just going to take time and practice.

Life's too short to wait in potentially futile hope for important relationships to organically evolve of their own accord as though we'll be lucky enough for such evolutions to make us more, rather than less, contented.

It's only Wednesday.

Quote of the Day

"I’d like to have money. And I’d like to be a good writer. These two can come together, and I hope they will, but if that’s too adorable, I’d rather have the money."
-- Dorothy Parker

First snow!

It's been snowing (with some rain mixed in) since about 10 or 11 this morning. The Heir took the entrance exam to TJ this morning. We'll probably find out after Christmas if he passed the exam. If he passes, then the next step is to put a portfolio together. TJ has a very low acceptance rate so however far he gets in the process is a job well done. This afternoon, I took the Spare to the movies since we were supposed to go over Thanksgiving but he was sick. We ran to the grocery store to pick up ingredients for dinner, beef stew with mushrooms, and the lines were somewhat long. Around these parts, the first mention of snow sends people to the grocery store to stock up on supplies. My blood might be a bit thinner but I still have my New England sensibility for dealing with snow.

And since we're 20 days away from Christmas, here's a holiday song!

Blue Christmas - Brian Setzer Orchestra

Nice Girls Don't (Negotiate, That Is)

I got my first job three days before I graduated with my bachelor's degree. My salary? $15,000 a year (it was 1984). Did it occur to me to negotiate anything higher? Hell no. I was just happy to have a job that would give me an income and some time to decide what my next move would be, which was graduate school.

Why didn't I try to negotiate more? Several reasons. I had no student loans to repay since my parents were able to fund my education. I had no idea what the market rate was for someone with my skills doing the job I was hired to do so I had no basis for comparison. Most importantly, I didn't know how because I didn't understand the job search process.

What also keeps people from negotiating is fear, especially if you're a woman; specifically, gender stereotypes: Women are expected to defer in order to be seen as feminine, and that includes deferring our ambitions, according to psychiatrist Anna Fels. "[T]oo often those ambitions must be downsized or abandoned to accommodate "wifely" duties of household chores and child care."

It's no surprise that women don't like to negotiate:

• When we are giving something to someone, we are feminine.
  
• When we are asking someone for something, we are not.
• When a man asks for something, he is proactive.
• When a woman asks for something, she is pushy (or even bitchy).

It's a double standard that puts women in a double bind. If you don't ask, you don't get. When you do ask, you get blown off or even marginalized.

Here's a recent situation from my own life. While I was employed I provided research assistance pro bono to someone. I was happy to do whatever I could and since someone else was paying my salary, doing this unpaid work wasn't an issue. I considered myself a volunteer. It filled a void that wasn't being met by my paying job.

Would I have liked to flip this unpaid assistance into a paying gig? Sure; I may not have gone to my last job kicking and screaming but I was looking to transition into something new.

But now I'm out of work and as a networking resource, my friend has been a bit of a dead end, sadly. Because I now had all day to fill, I kept doing the unpaid research assistant gig. It kept me busy, engaged and feeling useful. Was it appreciated? I think so.

Did I speak up? A couple of times but probably not as directly as I should have. Why? I was being "nice" and "polite." The perceived cost of asking for what I wanted was too high and made me reluctant to advocate for myself. I was too attuned to someone else's needs and not my own. (Besides, the times I did speak up were met with silence. I'm sure it's a control issue.)

I kick myself occasionally. If I were a man, would my situation be different? Possibly. I'll never know.

I'm currently revising a book I worked on about a dozen years ago and it's a paying gig. Over the Thanksgiving break, I decided to back off on the unpaid work, just to keep sane over the holidays and to finish my work. Then I'll reassess what I'll do, unless there's a drastic change. I doubt I'll be missed. After all, when you don't pay for something you don't value it as much.

Here is the article that got me thinking about all this: Can "Nice Girls" Negotiate? Be sure to read the links in this article too. Lots of good information.