|Sandy Creek #5 from front of the red tee box - narrow fairway|
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Monday really is the most hopeless day of the week. If I were a fruit fly and lived my entire lifespan in 24 hours, the days of the week probably wouldn’t matter much to me. I wonder if fruit flies even know their lives are shorter than other living things around them?
What if I were a sequoia tree and lived to be 2,000 years old? It must be a scary situation to be rooted in one spot for so long. A tree has zero control of its life; death is its only escape, and it probably can't really kill itself...or maybe it can somehow. It’s unappealing to think about being a tree now, but when I was a young girl I wanted with all my heart to be a tree. It never happened though, obviously – here I am typing a weird post for my blog. Wishes like that just don’t come true no matter how much you want them to.
Playing in the woods among all those beautiful, tall trees was one of my favorite ways to pass time as a kid. I oftentimes pretended to be an Indian, which of course justified the need to build small fires for survival. Maybe what I liked most about the woods was that the trees and brush provided plenty of cover for me and my contraband, but also hiding in the woods was just good fun. When one or both of my brothers came looking for me, I liked to see how close I could get to them without being found. I stalked them while they hunted for me. It was much easier to hide from one than two boys, and my little brother was much better at finding me. He still has eyes like an eagle.
|big brother and me playing in the creek bottom|
Sunday, September 23, 2012
|beautiful Greenbo Lake|
|the water told me to buy a kayak|
Erin was extremely disappointed that nobody asked her. She insists boys don’t like her because she’s fat, ugly, and weird. I assure her that the reason boys don’t ask her is because they are intimidated by her. I tell her she needs to learn the art of flirting and use it. Emily says she needs to do like she and her girlfriends do – act dumb, helpless, and if that fails, act slutty. I don't like that advice at all!
|wysiwyg - no games, and no date :(|
Friday, September 21, 2012
Anyway, as much as I want to be a social butterfly and wow people with all my charismatic charm, I just can’t be one of those types. I should be introducing myself to everyone there, pretending to be exceedingly brilliant, and playing the part of a pushy salesman so that people will take my survey. But no, I’d be more comfortable just throwing myself at their feet and begging them to please take my survey. But no, I can’t even do that because it’s unprofessional to act desperate. It’s hard being me.
|what I should be versus...|
|what i am|
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Things have reached critical mass. My faith is shaken – faith in myself, faith in my decision to pursue a doctoral degree, faith in the university as a legitimate institution, faith in my resolve to continue. I am broken in so many ways.
Without going into all the gory details, the board declined my proposal change request due to “a problem” that necessitated a flurry of emails to clarify. What it boiled down to was that the board refused to review my request because I submitted it as two documents (change form and application); they wanted these attached to each other (i.e. one document).
My argument is that the instructions (all of two sentences) printed on the form do not imply these documents were to be combined. The instructions say to submit the form, application, and any other pertinent documents. Along with my argument, I emailed a list of like 25 questions that I want answered before submitting again. I’m done with guessing games. Nobody is accountable. I am shouldering the burden of all their errors and incompetence. It’s a for-profit institution, a business, and this customer is not satisfied! They are just milking me for more money – thousands of dollars.
I got that email yesterday and blew a gasket. If somebody had seen me having my private rant (I hid in the supply closet), they would have grabbed a rifle with a scope and a box of tranquilizer darts. I would have gladly torn somebody’s arms and legs off in that state of mind. No, I’m not a violent person. It’s a scary place when things don’t go my way. In comparison, the violence in my imagination when a rage sets in makes an al qaeda Jihad look like a Cub Scout jamboree.
So now, I’m at the start of a new limbo until my questions are answered. Advisor told chairman to forward my questions and complaint to a specific board member. I emailed chairman asking him to tell me when he forwarded the questions because I’m tracking things very closely now from this point forward. He didn’t reply, I texted several more times and he finally came back with this. He has a different plan.
It almost seems like he cares….which for some strange reason makes me feel incredibly happy. At least in my imagination, he is sincere. I’m watching the clock today….and hoping my chairman brings me some good news. If not, maybe it's time to....nothing good to fill in that blank.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
|parking lot - horses stand mainly in the shade|
|Shipshewana street corner planter|
|baskets hanging from every lamp post|
|Dad and Erin entering boardwalk|
|little stream with goldfish|
|Dad's lake house (yellow one)|
|some drug company CEO's 7.5 million dollar house|
|Miss Erin watching birds|
|beautiful swans on the lake (but they can be mean)|
|sunset over Lake Tippicanoe, view from my dad's yard|
Thursday, September 13, 2012
I didn’t buy a head halter, but I’m using a training lead which works like a choke chain. I’m using that and also putting her regular collar and leash on when we go for walks. When she gets too rambunctious, I hold a leash in each hand (like reins) and give her more choke. Last night, I only choked her at the very beginning and then once when she wanted to chase a motorcycle. The rest of the time, she was very civilized and we had a nice 40-minute walk. She is learning and perhaps we will soon be able to walk with just a normal good-dog leash.
No matter how rotten my day has been, it’s wonderful to come home to a dog. She runs out to greet me (no matter the weather) and seems truly happy to see me come home. Nobody else gets even 1% as excited as Gracie when I pull into the driveway. The kids and husband seldom even look away from their cell phones or TV screens when I walk in, unless they’ve been waiting on me to come home to do something for them or with them. Sometimes a cat will greet me with a meow of aloof acknowledgement, but usually the motive is that he or she just wants to be fed.
My office plants are splendid. Plants don’t grow like this for me at home. It must be the large windows and morning sun they love so much. The only thing I like about working where I work is the great view of the woods out my windows, the walking trail around the small lake behind the building, and my plants. OK…some of the people are OK too. I’m not totally antisocial.
|cubicle plants today|
|ever-blooming African Violet|
Monday, September 10, 2012
Someone was furious with me for having these kittens at the house....as if I had given permission. The kittens had been brought here and fed before responsible parties (perhaps I should call them the irresponsible parties) even called and told me what they had done. Actually, they didn’t even call. They texted. The point is, they knew I would say they couldn’t keep them. Maybe they thought it would be too much trouble for me to text back NO NO NO NO!!!! (which I did)....more than once.
|future crazy cat ladies|
Friday, September 7, 2012
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
So, another day at Ye Olde Salt Mine (aka the office…really the cubicle) and all that rage has given way to hopelessness. There’s really nothing I can do to hurry things along. I hate not having any control of things with what the Board does or decides. Perhaps I’m really a control freak at heart, but at least I’m a rational one. It seems like my way always makes the most sense, to me anyway :) Someone would heartily disagree, but who cares about his opinion? This is my blog.
What would really make me happy is for the board to send me an email right now and tell me to do whatever I want.
Is that too much to ask? Apparently so. I’m just going to go sulk for awhile now.
|(photo by Terry Spears)|
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Monday, September 3, 2012
|very long way down over this cliff :)|
|click photo to enlarge and read about the old man|