Pity, party of one

I'm not sure why, but lately I've been feeling really down about things, and about myself in particular. I don't know if it's the winter, or the fact that I was in a really dark place this time last year and it's all rearing its ugly head again, or if it's just people being in town and stirring up old, not very pleasant memories for me, but lately I have felt pretty crummy.

There have been some personal life things, nasty arguments where things have been said that are pretty hurtful, and then a lot of things are just carry over from past things. And what's the worst is that every time I start to feel like this, I find myself thinking a lot about how I'm often not the person people choose in relationships. Typically, everyone picks Jason. He's likable, he's friendly, he's intelligent and he's kind. Me? I'm not really any of those things. 99% of the time, I hear "I was pretty sure you were a total bitch when I first met you". I'm guarded. I say what I think. I have high expectations and I don't really give people the option of not meeting them. I come with baggage, I guess, and as a result, people don't inherently like me. It's not new, it's happened my whole life. It just wasn't a problem before because I wasn't standing next to someone who everyone loves, so that by comparison I feel small and insignificant. I often feel like if he is around, I'm just...not. I stop mattering to people. I am an accessory, not a necessity. That's hard to know about yourself. I mean hell, even my "best friend" told me that she only tolerates me so that she can spend time with Jason. Stings, doesn't it? But that's how it is. I go to every school board meeting Jason goes to, but no one ever notices or remembers me, they always credit him with making the time to attend. I do as much work with the drama department as he does, but the kids act like he's the only one there working to help them. I did as much directing work in our show over the summer as he did, but everyone credits him as the director. So where do I fit? At what point do people appreciate me for me instead of something that tags along with Jason like a weight around his neck?

And honestly, I find myself angry at him and resenting him for the fact that everyone picks him over me. It's not his fault, I know that on an intellectual level, but at the same time.....I can't help getting angry because it sucks. Like.....really really sucks. It's pretty lonely, and it puts me into a position where I don't even really want to talk to people about it because I don't want to be accused, as I have been previously, of bringing "too much drama" and I also don't want to complain about things and have people think less of Jason due to what I might say, or think less of me for well....being me. And there's no solution to it anyway. I can't make him less likable. I can't make myself into him. I can't make people like me or enjoy my company. So that leaves me nowhere. But I'm lonely. And I'm sad. And I wish I was missed when I'm not around. And I wish people asked me to do things without Jason sometimes, that way I felt like it wasn't just him they wanted to be around all the time.

And I wish that he wasn't the only one who got apologies when people say hurtful things. I wish they offered me the same courtesies.

Adventures With an Elderly Dog, Part 2

For those of you who are new around here, this is Simon. Simon is old. Like, I'm not talking that whole "Oh, Fido is 9 this year. He's getting old". No. In dog years, Simon is like Moses old. He's a 15 year old lab, and for a breed that tends to crap out around 12, that makes him ancient. Over the past couple of years we've been experiencing life with an elderly pet for the first time. Simon is Jason's first dog, and all of my childhood pets tended to die fairly young due to an uncanny ability to Darwin Award themselves, typically related to an affinity for chasing cars on the 50 mph road in front of our house. We've had friends who have dealt with elderly animals, so we've witnessed their trials and difficulties, but I think that you can never fully know what it's like until you do it yourself. So, Simon is treating us to a variety of experiences with him as he ages. His hearing is gone, his eyesight isn't what it used to be, he has arthritis in his back hips, he barks constantly at nothing because he's lost the ability to run and play so this is his only form of entertainment. It's been an interesting road.

We are still dealing with the pee issue we had a year ago (more info on that here), and now sometimes he poops in his sleep because, hey, why not right? And now, because we're masochists, we've added a puppy into the mix. To be fair, the puppy was meant to be a friend for Sam in the event that Simon is no longer with us, but the puppy seems to have decided Sam is a waste of his time and he wants to play with Simon. Simon does not feel the same way. Right now we're at a point where Simon sleeps like 15 hours or more a day, and the annoying puppy interrupting his glorious napping is not welcome. Now he barks at the puppy. Whenever he sees him. No matter what the puppy is doing. Puppy is lying on the floor chewing a toy, Simon comes in from another room and barks. Puppy is running laps through the house, Simon barks every time he runs through the room Simon's in. It's kind of an ongoing thing. I'm not sure what the barking is supposed to do, because the puppy seems to think that it's a trigger to play, but Simon keeps doing it.

What's interesting is that I think that, while you get that your dog is old and that he's got different needs, it's doing the normal little things that make you realize just how old he is. It's taking a walk and seeing him only make it about half way before he wants to lie down and take a nap, or tossing a treat that would normally have been snapped out of mid-air just to have it land on the floor and get licked up carefully once it's sniffed out. Tonight, my realization came while giving Simon his bath. An event that used to take Jason and I a good 40 minutes to accomplish as one of us pinned him down while the other scrubbed, because he would fight us both off to leap out of the tub and go rub himself on every piece of furniture we owned, was done tonight by just me. Jason lifted him into the tub, but then he went back downstairs and I did the scrubbing. There wasn't a fight anymore. This time he stood there, trying not to slip because his back legs give him trouble, and he was shaking. That's new, because he has never been nervous in the tub. Part of me wondered if he was in there going "It's wet! I ordered a sponge bath! I want to talk to Nurse Nancy! I hate the wet!" because he's confused a lot these days. I stood there, as I scrubbed him and cursed his water resistant lab fur that takes more shampoo than any dog should ever require, and thought about how different he is as an old dog. I thought it was nice not to have to wrestle him into submission just to scrub his chest, but at the same time it was a little sad that he didn't have it in him to fight with me anymore. After a while he seemed to relax a bit and while I wouldn't say he enjoyed having a bath, he got a stupid puppy smile on his face and stood up to shake off and shower me with everything that stupid water resistant fur didn't want to hold onto anymore. I'm pretty sure the showering was intentional.

And just as I was thinking how happy I was to get through the bath without incident, since he hadn't slipped or fallen or hurt a hip, I reached down to drain the water and realized that yes....yes he definitely pooped in the tub. Thanks pal. I love you too.

My Thoughts on Steve Jobs

In the wake of the death of Apple co-founder Steve Jobs, the internet has been flooded with messages of mourning and remembrance of the man who revolutionized the world as we know it. Facebook alone was filled with messages of shock and sadness. Much like any public figure, the death caused people to deeply romanticize the life of the man. As a result, I wasn't surprised when the cynics began to show up this afternoon, becoming suddenly annoyed at the amount of attention his death was getting. A friend of mine liked an article called "Steve Jobs Was Not God" on Facebook, and I wondered if the person who wrote the article didn't understand why people were saddened.

I'm not sure about the rest of the world, but the death of Steve Jobs makes me sad not because of the loss his company is taking without his input and creativity, but because of the loss of what he represents. Like so many people out there who are successful and smart and innovative, Steve represented what can happen when you dare to dream. Apple computers started in a garage with a dream, and that's the last real iteration of the American Dream. We've created a world where it is very difficult for people to dream big and see that dream realized, so those who are able to keep striving for the dream and finally achieve that success, they do become idolized. Steve showed that innovative thinking and hard work can pay off in the long run. In a world where people are looking for the quick and easy way to success through things like "The Secret" or self help seminars that tell you if you think about being successful then it'll just happen, we need people like Steve Jobs to show that thinking is just the start of the process, it takes drive and hard work to make it a reality. I respected what he represented. He expected more of himself, and as a result he expected more of those around him and pushed them to work toward a common goal that was bigger than all of them. He never settled for less than the best, and his success reflected those expectations. So now that he is gone, I feel like the world has lost an innovative thinker, and a man who represented the possibility this world holds for all of us if we only dare to dream big enough. With him gone, a small light has gone out, and that is what people are going to miss the most.

He's not the only one in the world who represents these ideals, but he was a shining spot among the crowd, and as time passes and other lights go out, we will feel their losses as well, but this one is new and fresh. This one is going to be felt for a few days or even weeks longer, but for what he gave to the world I think we can afford him a few days. Your iPod would probably appreciate it.

Much Ado About Everything

Over the past 8 weeks, I have had the privilege and honor of working with an amazing group of young people. Jason, Eric and I worked non-stop on a production of Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing" with several LHS Drama alumni, and several LHS Drama students, and some members of the community. What started off as this small idea to do a summer show turned into this thing that became larger than all of us put together. It went from being a few people trying to pull a show together to a fully functioning community theater company. We all worked in collaboration with one another on a show that seemed too large, too grand in scale to take on in such a short time, and yet we did it. We, as an entire group, pulled together to accomplish something that most people wouldn't have even tried, and we did it really well.

I have to say that there are times in a person's life when they do something truly remarkable, something that sticks with you for the rest of your life, and something that you look at and think "That was so worth it". In my life, I've had a few of those moments. When I graduated college, when we bought our first house, and now there is this. This one experience, this 8 weeks of madness that brought together a group of people in a way that nothing else ever has. Everyone was invested in our success, everyone was positive and upbeat, and determined to get it off the ground regardless of what challenges we may face. Everyone worked toward the same goal, and no one tried to showboat or promote themselves over the good of the entire production. Some people had small parts, but there were truly no small actors in our group. Everyone was just happy to be a part of something bigger than themselves, and there aren't many times in life that you get to be a part of something like that. This small group of people became a true family for those 8 short weeks, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I think what I loved most, and what made this a real success, is that it was a collaboration. No one stood up and said "This is my vision, you have to make it happen". We all created the vision together, and as a result, we were able to achieve it together with everyone on board in equal measure. We helped each other, we cared about each other, and we taught each other. At the end of the production run, Jason gave a really nice talk about how each person brought certain unique qualities to the production in such a great measure that the rest of the cast and crew was left with no choice but to raise themselves to that same standard. Unlike other productions I've worked behind the scenes on, our entire process was calm, stress free, and positive. Sure, there were moments when people snapped at each other, but there was none of the overwhelming stress or frustration, or anger at one another that I've seen before. Everyone left the production just as happy as they started it. I've never had that experience before, and it was really nice.

Most of all, though, I am proud of the people who put so much work into something that started as a small idea. I am proud of the cast, who worked their tails off for a very short amount of time to pull of a giant monster of a script. I am proud of everyone who took notes, and direction, and never hesitated to try something new even if they weren't comfortable with it. I'm proud of everyone who made it a safe place for those uncomfortable people to try something new without risk of being laughed at or ridiculed. I am proud of the entire group for coming together to build a set in 2 days, and get that set painted in 2 days. I'm proud of the younger people who have never had a speaking role and stepped up to the challenge we set before them, and did it better than we could have ever hoped. I am proud of everything. I am proud of us.

So, despite what some may say to bring us down, despite what some may do to criticize the work that was done, and despite what some may think they have a right to dictate when they don't, I will say that we have done well. We have done something to look back on fondly, and most importantly we had a lot of fun. To my cast and crew, I want to say thank you for making this one of the best summers of my adult life. Thank you for being who you are, and who we became when we worked together. I can't wait to do it all over again.

A Farewell To Old Friends

This past Friday at 12:01 a.m. marked the release of the 8th and final Harry Potter film. For a lot of the world, this didn't signify anything other than the last movie in a series that they felt was split to make sure they made as much cash as possible off of the franchise. For the rest of us, those devout Harry Potter fans, it meant so much more. I'm not sure what everyone's experience has been, but for me Harry Potter has been a life changing series.

I showed up late to the party with the books. The first one was released back in 1997, at the end of my Freshman year in high school, and I paid no attention. Even when I was working in the school library my Senior year and the librarian was posting articles from Time magazine about the phenomenon that was Harry Potter, I didn't really pay much attention. It wasn't until Jason was working for a store run by PBS and preparing for the release of the 4th book that I thought "Wow, this might be a big deal". He bought the books, brought them home and tore through them in just a couple of weeks and said "You have to read these. You have to". So I did, and that in itself was a game changer, because Jason and I had never shared the same taste in books before, but suddenly we had this commonality to work from and this addictive series to discuss and theorize over at length. Harry Potter brought us closer together. That's what this series does though, it brings people together. I can't tell you the number of people I've connected to through a common love of these books. When I worked for Waldenbooks, I bonded with staff and customers time and time again over how these books are not just a kids book series, but a common ground on which people can build relationships.

I don't think I would have gone into teaching if it hadn't been for Harry Potter. I know that sounds strange, but it's true. I spent so much time in the bookstore watching kids get excited for the release of a book in an age where the X-Box and iPod reigned supreme and I thought "It's not that kids don't want to read, it's that no one has made it exciting for them", and then I found myself thinking that maybe I could be that person. I suddenly wanted to be the person who lit that spark of fascination for kids who may not really care about reading. I wanted to excite people about books, and teach them how to think about them and analyze them and truly understand them. Selling books wasn't enough. I needed to teach them. So I went into education. Harry Potter put me on the path to a career that I would not have otherwise thought about going into, and it took my floundering uncertain 24 year old self and gave her purpose for the first time since she left high school. When I had the opportunity to meet J.K. Rowling, I was given about 3 seconds to say something to her. I said "Your books made me decide I wanted to teach" and her advice was "Don't be Snape".

My story is really just one of many, because fans all over the world can point to ways that this book series has changed their lives. Hank Green of Vlogbrothers fame saw his career launched when he wrote a song about the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The people of Haiti received 5 chartered jets filled with disaster relief and medical supplies from the HP Alliance, a charity group formed to carry the theme of the Harry Potter novels out into the real world through charitable deeds. A group of fans, young and old, who banded together to bring more love and good into the world, as inspired by the message J.K. Rowling so diligently wove into her novels. Their motto is "The weapon we have is love". Pretty powerful stuff to come out of a series of fiction novels.

My point is, these books have touched countless people, and changed lives in ways that no one would have initially expected. And now, as we reach the end of the series in its film form, we as fans come to a startling realization that we have nothing more to look forward to. We have nothing left but the relationships we have built, and the undiscovered paths that our lives will take as they have been touched by J.K. Rowling and her endearing characters. We have grown up with these books, these films, these characters. We have laughed and cried with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Now we are left to laugh and cry on our own. There will be no new experiences for us in the Potter universe, but there will always be new experiences elsewhere, and we will have to take what we have learned from Harry Potter along with us, and strive to carry on with creating a better world as we were inspired to do the first time we read those newly minted pages. As Dumbledore has said, "Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open". That is the world we strive for, thanks to the lessons we have learned from a small boy wizard and his friends.

So long Harry, and thanks for the ride.

Lest We Lose The Ability To Wonder

Friday marked NASA's final space shuttle launch, which I've been thinking about off and on ever since the media frenzy began a week or so ago. As much as I think it's sad that we are losing manned space flight, which has been a pretty large part of our scientific history for the past 50 years, and was once a huge rallying point for American morale, I find myself wondering if we're losing more than just the space shuttle. My worry is that we're losing the ability to wonder, and the ability to think "What if?" and then strive to answer that question.

When author Francois Rabelais died, his last words were "I go to seek the great perhaps". I feel like that's what our first voyage into space was, it was a deep need to go seek the great perhaps. Or, as my Star Trek geek husband would say, "to boldly go where no man has gone before". We did not go into space because it was easy, or because it was necessary. We went because we were spurred by that basic human need to reach for more than what is at our fingertips. We reached for the stars, and when they were too out of reach to come to us, we found a way to go to them. We went because we wondered what was out there, and we knew we would never be satisfied until we found that answer. Now, as we lose the ability as a nation to continue those voyages, I find myself saddened that we may be sacrificing our ability to wonder. I think about how there will be no elementary school children talking about how they want to grow up and go to space, because we won't be doing that anymore, and I feel infinitely saddened. I remember going to Kennedy Space Center with my family when I was 12, and my dad getting us up at the crack of dawn to drive out and watch a space shuttle launch, which didn't happen due to weather conditions, but I remember sitting there thinking about how exciting it must be to sit in that shuttle and blast through the atmosphere into a place that almost no one can say they've gone.

Space is one of the few things left in this world that we can explain, and yet remains a mystery. It inspires wonderment, and it inspires people to think beyond the world they know into the great perhaps, and it is quickly fading from our grasp. I don't want to lose that feeling, and that sense of pride at knowing that we have been able to accomplish putting people into space for so long. We were able to put people on the moon. If we weren't losing this amazing program, we could likely be putting people onto other distant planets, or traveling beyond our own solar system into the great unknown. So, what we lose is so much more than a tangible space program, we lose the ability to dream that something more is out there for us, and that we need only seek it and reach high enough to grasp it.

On Relationships

I've never been one of those people who talks a lot about how in luuuuurve I am, or about how Jason is the greatest "hubby" ever or anything like that. This is, primarily, because I feel like people who are always gushing about how in luuuurve they are or how they have the greatest spouse ever are either trying to prove to themselves that things really are that way, or they're trying to prove to others that they totally win at relationships. This might not necessarily be the case, but I generally feel that people who are actually in love and have good healthy relationships rarely ever have to talk about them. In general, I feel like if someone is happy in their relationship, it should be obvious and apparent without someone needing to tell people how incredibly happy they are.

I bring this up because I find myself reading a lot of Facebook statuses and blogs lately where people are talking about how AMAZING their relationships are, or how in luuuuurve they are, or how much they have struggled through to come out "stronger" on the other side and I find myself thinking "What makes you think you're different from any other couple on the planet?" I mean...think about it. Most "couple problems" are completely typical. Short of one of you having a horrible life threatening disease, or if you're dealing with serious infidelity and for some reason decide to remain together, there aren't a lot of problems that every other couple isn't also having. And I really hate the phrase "marriage is hard". No, ALL relationships are hard, but because marriage tends to be less disposable than other types of relationships, people think it's more difficult than any other relationship. Marriage does take work, just like any other relationship, but it doesn't have to be hard. If the person you married understands you, and cares about how you feel and what you want or need, then it's not nearly as hard as people think. I mean, I think back on all that Jason and I have "gone through", first living with my parents and sharing a room with my 2 sisters while he slept on the floor for a year, then living in our apartment with a roommate, then living in a cramped and cluttered house with his mom while we both worked full time and went to school full time, then moving into our own house with uncertain employment situations, going through various periods of one or both of us being unemployed, and I could say "Oh wow, we're so strong because we've been through so much without splitting up" but all I really think is "Well....that was life". It's not about going through stuff and coming out stronger for it, it's about just being strong in the first place and then the crappy stuff that happens doesn't matter. And, feeling like you have to go through things to make you stronger means that you can't be in a strong relationship without shitty things happening. If you can't be on the same page, or in the same place from the start, why be in the relationship at all? Why does anyone date/marry/befriend anyone who has to work really hard to be on the same page as they are? It makes no sense to me. Good relationships take work, but they feel easy. That doesn't mean that they don't have their bumps along the way, or are without conflict or argument, but the fixing process shouldn't feel like work. If it does, maybe it's the wrong connection to make.

So.....I guess what I think is that if I ever start talking excessively about how much I luuuuurve Jason, or how awesome he is, or how great and amazing and strong a relationship we have, that might be the time to start worrying the actual state of our relationship. For now, I think that being able to say "It just works" when people ask about the two of us. I don't need to give or receive mushy cards, or see Facebook statuses about how much Jason luuuurves me, or hear about how he can't live without me. We aren't that couple. I know he loves me, because he married me, and tells me at least once a day, and he puts up with all of my annoying BS. That means so much more than constant public affirmation. I find it so strange that other people feel the need for all the rest of that nonsense.