2008: Year in Review (and a glance ahead)

Well, this year included more big personal milestones. 2007 included moving halfway across the country, changing jobs, and getting engaged. In 2008, I got married and then (surprisingly promptly) got pregnant. I also changed my name, although that change is still trickling through to certain credit cards and memberships.

Planning a wedding and preparing for a baby did cut into my playwriting activities, but I still had some achievements. 3 monologues and a one-act premiered in Pittsburgh. A one-act was produced in Maryland. I had my first Chicago productions, first a reading then a production of my first Christmas play. Although no full-lengths were produced this year, I did complete a draft of a new full-length, which received a developmental reading at Chicago Dramatists in November.

There was some travel this year. We went to St. Johns for our honeymoon, which was spectacular. We visited friends and family in Georgia, Colorado, and Pennsylvania. We also spent a babymoon weekend in New York City.

Body and health wise I lost 20 pounds before the wedding. Although I'd been that thin before I had never been so healthy. I felt great! After the wedding, I finally fulfilled a promise to a friend to try Bikram Yoga, and I loved it. I still do it about twice a week. Of course, the pre-wedding weightloss came back plus more with the baby, but that's what happens. Having lost it once I'm sure I'll be able to take care of it after the baby is born.

There was some luxury this year, in addition to splurging on an amazing resort for the honeymoon. Although hubby (thankfully) doesn't travel much for work anymore, he still had plenty of hotel and airline points. Hilton points allowed us to stay at the Drake Hotel in Chicago on our wedding night and at the Waldorf-Astoria in NYC for our babymoon. Both stays were paid for by points only, which was excitingly decadent.

So what will 2009 have in store? Well, the main thing will be the birth of this critter and the beginning of what hubby calls "the crittaceous period." I am pretty sure that much of the year (and much of the future in general) will revolve around him. I do plan to make time for myself, but I'm being realistic. I likely won't be able to do as much writing, but I will try to send out existing plays. (A one-act is already scheduled to be produced in Massachusetts in January.) Perhaps I may even have some time to continue developing the new full-length. But this year's uber-list is likely to be a bit short. Until I have some time under my belt as a mother (Wow, it's been a few months since I've been able to wear a belt!), I don't want to make promises to myself that I can't keep. My main goal is to give birth to a healthy baby boy, and I'll see where to go from there!

Happy New Year! Now, I need to soak my black-eyed peas before heading out for the evening...

Coming Soon

11 weeks until the critter is due. Scary. For so long his arrival seemed very far off, but now it seems soon. Very soon.

We have no baby infrastructure! Sure, family and friends have started to send clothes and toys and some other small items, but we are generally not ready for a baby. We have no car seat. We have nowhere for crit to sleep. We have no DIAPERS!

After tomorrow night, the hectic holiday season will be over, and we can begin hectic baby prep season. There will be shopping trips. There will be home reorganization and packing. There will be birthing classes and infant care classes and breastfeeding classes. There will be midwife appointments every two weeks (at least). There will be many questions and forms (for the hospital, for our insurance, for my leave at work). We need to find a pediatrician.

There will be fun things like my baby shower and the continued goodness of Bikram yoga, but these too will help ensure that the weeks fly by.

Soon this critter knocking around inside my belly will be a little person of the world. Oh, I'm not afraid of having to take care of him. I'm afraid of missing something important from my to do list.

The Ups and Downs of My Christmas Journey

It was snowing in Chicago the Tuesday before Christmas. It was snowing a lot. My husband, and I had a leisurely breakfast and finished packing before the adventure began.

Hubby broke two ice scrapers trying to prepare the car for the trip to the airport. (We hadn't moved the car for several days and each of those days involved snow, ice, and subzero windchill, resulting in quite a wintry armor.) He managed to create a relatively safe level of visibility before we headed out. The roads were not yet plowed, even the major ones, making our drive to the airport much longer than expected. For once it was nice to receive the update from the airline that our plane was delayed. We wouldn't have made it otherwise.

When we arrived at long term parking it was also snowed over. Spaces without cars in them were filled with piles of snow and ruts of ice. We worked our way in to a spot hoping we'd be able to get back out when we returned.

On the train to the terminal we got the message: Our flight was cancelled. At the terminal we joined the others in a very long line at customer service. Meanwhile, hubby was on the phone with the airline as well. After 2 and 1/2 hours on hold (and still standing in line), he got a fuzzy connection to a real human being, albeit on the other side of the world. We were confirmed for flights the next day (Christmas Eve), but we were confirmed on separate flights. (A detail that the phone person didn't even bother to mention until hubby specifically thought to ask about my reservation when the conversation seemed geared toward one person.)

Although we were happy to have confirmed flights, we were not happy about being separated. We were scheduled to arrive 6 hours apart, and that's if we both managed to get their without our flights being cancelled. I couldn't help but cry as I began to dread the thought of ending up in separate cities for Christmas. (Plus, if the earlier flight made it and mine did not, my husband would be alone with my family, which would likely be awkward.)

We decided to continue to wait in the line (We were getting so close!) to see if there was any way to get on the same flight even if it meant adding legs to what had been a direct flight. We were told that there was nothing to do other than come in the morning and put me on the stand by list and hope.

We were, however, given a coupon for discounted hotel stays (after being told that the airline won't pay for hotel rooms related to weather delays). We decided to spend the money rather than drive home. The roads were still awful; we may or may not have been able to pull out of our parking space; we'd have to ready the car without a working ice scraper; and we'd just have to do it again in the morning. So we caught the shuttle to the hotel. We bought an overpriced dinner. But we were together. At least for that night.

We didn't sleep well, likely a combination of the worry about the next day's logistics, the less than premium bed, and the sound of planes flying overhead. We got up extra early and went to the airport.

We each checked in at the kiosks and added me to the waitlist for the earlier flight. Then we went to customer service to see if hubby could use his *status* to move me up in the list. I am glad that hubby doesn't travel for work anymore, but it will be sad when his elevated *status* with the airlines disappears. We will have to go back to using the regular security lines and boarding after the half the plane has. Sadness. However, in this case, there was nothing he could do. We were told that I was number 14 in the waitlist. The lady at the desk said that was pretty good, at least better than number 47 (the total number on the list).

So we waited by in the gate area. I watched the monitor for waitlist updates. By the time we were nearing the scheduled boarding time I was up to number 3. At least that would give me a good position for the waitlist on the following flight (which would still get me there earlier than my scheduled flight). Still, I didn't want to be separated from my husband.

The two names in front of me were called. Then a pause. So close! Then they called me. I rushed to desk lest they change their mind. I now had a boarding pass. I would be on the same plane as my husband. That is if a plane arrived. It was past boarding time and the jetway was connected to an empty space. But then a plane arrived. We might get there after all.

Then, they called my hubby to the desk. Uh-oh? No. His *status* got him upgraded to first class. And, my sweet and loving husband, told me we would trade seats. My enlarged and tired pregnant body would get the extra space. I love him so much.

We boarded. Hubby went to the back, to my cramped middle coach seat. I stayed up front...but someone was in my seat. We verified on our ticket stubs. We were both assigned that seat. We handed the stubs to the flight attendant, and I began to worry that I would not be on the flight after all, much less first class. But the man in the seat told the FA that he didn't mind giving up the seat as long as there was a seat for him on the plane. They found a coach seat and he moved. This stranger did not make a fuss. He just volunteered to move. Whether it was because I'm pregnant or because it was Christmas or because he just wanted to get moving on one of the busiest travel days of the year, he volunteered to move. Gentlemen exist (see, also, prior paragraph about husband).

So I got to ride in first class. Of course, one of the perqs of first class is free booze, which is not very useful to me at this time. I asked a flight attendant to send my free drinks back to the two gentlemen who facilitated my being able to sit there: my husband and the stranger.

Just about 24 hours later than originally planned, my husband and I TOGETHER arrived at our destination. In time for Christmas. We stayed up late that night to open gifts after my parents returned from Midnight Mass (a tradition). There were gifts for those fully present and some for the critter. We spent time visiting my parents and grandparents. We ate a lot. It was a nice few days.

Our return trip was delayed a bit for fog, which seemed silly since it looked significantly nicer out than what we had flown in on Christmas Eve. While waiting my husband asked a silly question, "Would you like me to see if I can get us upgraded to first class?" I answered as one would expect. He was able to use his last two upgrade vouchers in the last few weeks of his *status* to get us upgraded to two first class seats right next to each other. We flew back in style, holding hands, and kissing, and being us. We were going home together.

Luckily, the days following the departure had been kind. It was cold upon our arrival, but earlier days of warmth had melted all the snow. No scraping needed. We drove home.

Besides the the stress of travel, there was another toll to the trip. There was tons of food including desserts at seemingly every meal. There was very little exercise other than walking around my Grandparents' land. When I weighed myself this morning for the first time in almost a week I found that I gained almost 5 pounds. Eek. Now it is time to get back to healthier eating and Bikram and Versaclimbing. I've been a little ahead of schedule on weight gain but nothing too extreme. I don't want to get out of control in the third trimester! Yes, less than 3 months to go little critter!

Finding the time

It is a sad commentary on my life that almost 2 months ago my husband had given me a gift certificate for a 1-hour prenatal massage, and I still hadn't had a chance to use it before yesterday. After the day I had I called the spa at 5 and asked if there was any chance (knowing there probably wasn't) of getting a 1-hour prenatal massage last night. Well, it turns out that they had a 6:15 cancellation for a therapist who is certified in prenatal. Something did go right for me yesterday! I had my massage and relaxed for the rest of the night. I didn't make one additional dent in my to do list, and it was wonderful.

This morning I braved the Chicago winter to go to my midwife appointment. This is the last week of my 2nd trimester, so all subsequent appointments increase in frequency from 4 weeks to 2 weeks. Plus, I have to go in for a follow up glucose screening (i.e. 3 hours of sitting around to see how my body processes some nasty sugar water), and a follow-up ultrasound (to check the status of my darn low-lying placenta). Plus we should take some classes: birthing, infant care, breastfeeding. I was thinking that the period after the holidays would be a little calmer, but it looks like my dance card will remain quite full.

Oh, and I should probably get some stuff for this here critter that's a'comin'. From my MIL and a new mother friend I have 2 big boxes of clothes already, but I don't have anything else. And we have to make space for whatever stuff we get. We plan to move to a bigger apartment when our lease is up, but that won't be until the baby is a couple months old. Until then the house is likely to look a bit chaotic with baby accoutrement and other items in whatever rooms they can fit. Luckily we had our Christmas party which will server as our last big home-based event for a while.

There went a big kick. The crit knows when he's being written about. That's okay, baby. The schedule will be crazy, the to do list will be long, but it will all be well worth it for you!

Do multiple meetings and emails make a sound?

If a tree falls in the forest and someone IS there to hear it but doesn't pay any attention, does it still make a sound? Moreover, if the tree falls then falls on that someone and injures them is it really the tree's fault after loudly sounding the warning of danger???

Here's the deal. My biggest work project of late has been trying to implement this new system. However, whenever I get a segment done and ask the person who will actually use the system to check that what I did is correct, he never does.

Without going into all the boring details, this system involves a lot of accounting transactions. I have not had an accounting class in over 15 years, and I was never good at it then. I make sure to repeat this when I request help checking things. Essentially, I am not qualified to check every nuance. Oh, I can catch blatant errors and send change requests back to the developers, but once I'm satisfied someone who knows this stuff should really look at it. But no one ever does.

Well, we've been live for a few weeks now. The decision to go live was based on my data checks. Now the primary user finally looked at something and found a problem. This problem would have been easy to fix BEFORE we went live, but now that the numbers have been published the correction process is very complex. It sucks.

I want to say, "I told you so." After all, I did. But I have enough work experience to know that isn't how life works. This will come back on me. Either I should have done more checking, or I should have sat with the user until he did it.

I was already stressed today about how hard it seems to be to find a birthing class that doesn't conflict with my baby shower. I really didn't need a 4 o'clock surprise of actual significance.

Publicity...for my cooking!

I was at a pre-Thanksgiving party a few weeks ago, and there was a woman there who writes for Apartment Therapy. She was taking pictures to post. I only recently learned that her post included raves for the cheese hors d'ouevres that I brought.

Here is the full post. I belatedly posted the recipe in the comments section. The host requested that the recipe be emailed a while back, so I'm sure it has already gotten some circulation.

Had I known I would have lobbied for coverage of my Christmas Party. That's really when I do my best work!

Shameless Self-Promotion: Acme Theater New Works Winter Festival

My dark, comedy "The Wrong Mistake" will be performed as a part of the Acme Theater of Maynard, MA 8th annual New Works Winter Festival. Performances are January 9, 10, 16, and 17. (The festival is performed in two tracks, so my show will only be included in two nights of the run. They haven't yet announced which shows will be on which nights.)

If you or someone you know will be in or near Maynard, MA in January, please check out the show, and let me know how it goes!

The web site has more details:
http://www.acmetheater.com/nwwf2009.asp

Shameless Self-Promotion: Seven Plays in Seven Days for the Holidays

My Christmas play "The Pants and The Virgin" is a part of a one night only festival in Chicago on December 8th.

About "The Pants and The Virgin"
Paul is nervous about inviting his fiancee to his parent's house for Christmas. After all, his parents are atheists who only enjoy Christmas for it's materialistic traditions, and his fiancee is the mother of God.

About "Seven Plays in Seven Days for the Holidays"

Christmas in Chicago…
Smell the roasting chestnuts? Hear the clarion voices of the carolers? Feel the tension of seven directors and seven casts preparing for “Seven Plays in Seven Days for the Holidays?”

They have seven days to rehearse a 10–minute play before presenting it to people who will – undoubtedly – have visions of more than sugar plums dancing in their heads… (Well they’ll have that, too, if they show up…)

"Seven Plays in Seven Days for the Holidays" will be performed at 8 p.m., Monday, December 8 at the City Lit Theater, 1020 W Bryn Mawr Ave, Chicago, IL.

Ticket price is $7.00
For more information and to order tickets log on at www.nufanensemble.com.
Tickets will be available for purchase online Tuesday, December 2, 2008.

I know you're in there.

I can feel the baby now. It's sort of like I swallowed the insides of a lava lamp. And I love it.

Before this whole pregnancy-thing was very abstract. Sure ultrasounds and dopplers and test results indicated the presence of baby, but those are just images and sounds and numbers. This is real.

I like knowing he's in there. Hello, little guy! It's comforting to know he is with me.

Of course, the downside of this is that he is not in constant motion; therefore, I do not get constant sensations. I miss him then. And if I haven't felt him in a while I worry.

He's with me right now, doing kicks or flips or punches. I don't really know what he's up to in there, but I can feel it. And it is wonderful.

The gadget economy

I was laid off in the summer of 2001. Although I wasn't working for a dot-com, I was working for a company that did consulting for dot-coms. As the bubble burst and we avidly watched the posts on fuckedcompany.com like rubberneckers staring at traffic accidents, I was not surprised to be laid off. It was just what was happening.

The first thing I did after being laid off was cancel the modem service for my Palm PDA. When I called to have the service terminated, the woman asked "May I ask why you want to cancel?" I told her I had been laid off. There were no more questions after that. I think it was something she had heard before.

Gadgets have become more pervasive than they were in 2001. Then, PDAs were less common and having an Internet compatable PDA meant you were a true geek. Now, smart phones are used by businessmen and students alike. The iPhone continues to gain market share. Will this trend be sustained as our economy flounders?

Perhaps these items continue to be popular because they are viewed as a small splurge (as opposed to a new car or something). Perhaps they are popular because their market tends to be younger, and younger people often don't worry about money, even when they should.

I guess we'll just wait and see how the economy and the gadget market evolve in the coming year(s). You can check for updates with your wireless device.

Busy, Busy Bees

My husband and I are greatly looking forward to life with baby; however, we realize that there are a number of things we like to do together that will become logistically more difficult when we have a child. As a result, we're sort of on a bit of a bender for activities (particularly concerts and plays) that will be difficult (or significantly more expensive because of babysitters) once the baby is born.

In the past few months we have seen a bunch of concerts including Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Beck, and TV on the Radio. We've been going to plays including Eurydice at Victory Garden and The Brothers Karamazov at Looking Glass Theatre. We also saw the Yard Dogs Road Show and a Henry Rollins spoken word show.

In addition to this, social events have kicked up since the end of October and likely won't die down until New Year's. Also, John and I both have been really busy at work. On top of all that I still try to do Bikram Yoga at least twice a week.

I was also spending some of my pre-mama time to draft a new full-length play. It's having a developmental reading at Chicago Dramatists tonight. On the one hand, I'm excited to hear the play and get some feedback. On the other hand, I'd love to be able to go home after work and just snuggle and watch TV with my husband. Of late, those nights are rare treats.

They say the best time to "do things" is during your second trimester, so I guess I'm following that advice to a T. Still, it's a bit harrowing and the time is flying by. I can't believe Thanksgiving is next week! I haven't even started thinking about Christmas shopping, which is very unlike me.

I look forward to January and some time to do nothing. We have a couple more plays to see in January and February, and a concert or two may pop up. Still, it will not be like now. I'm enjoying all we are doing, but it is starting to wear me out! All I want for Christmas is a weekend to myself!

Shameless Self Promotion: Future Ten 5, Pittsburgh, Pa.

This year Future Tenant requested 10 minute plays with a Pittsburgh theme for their annual Future Ten Festival. Running November 14-15, my play "Baby XL" imagines the frustrations of a pregnant Steelers fan when she goes into active labor during Super Bowl XL.

Surprise! It turns out that as I was working on "Baby XL" I was, in fact, a pregnant Steelers fan, although I didn't know it yet. I knew I was a Steelers fan, but as for the other part... I found out I was pregnant a few days after submitting the script. Now, much like the character in my play, I wear my Bettis jersey (one of the few articles of my "old" clothes that continues to fit me) and cheer on the guys in black and gold. The key difference between my life and my play is that I'm not due until March, so I should be able to watch the entirety of the post-season without having to rush to the hospital. Go Steelers!

Here are the details:

Ten new short works by playwrights from Pittsburgh and beyond will be featured November 7-8 & 14-15, 2008, in this fifth installment of a local theater tradition. As a fun new twist, all of this year's plays revolve around a Pittsburgh-inspired theme.

Future Tenant, an alternative art space located to 819 Penn Avenue in the heart of Pittsburgh 's Cultural District, will present Future Ten 5: Yinzer Edition . Split into two weekends (Fridays and Saturdays), the festival will feature a varied collection of plots and characters. This year's festival will also feature a "Yinzer Challenge," during which audience members will challenge each other for the illustrious designation of "Captain Yinzer."

Future Ten 5: Program A – Nov. 7-8 at 8 PM
I Can Tell Your Handbag is Fake by Dean Lundquist
Onus On Us by Cheryl Games
On the Inherent Dangers of Having Colleges Located Next to Each Other by Joseph Lyons
Singlish by Sloan MacRae
Eat Your Art Out by Joshua Elias Harmon

Future Ten 5: Program B – Nov. 14-15 at 8 PM
Baby XL by Kim Z. Dale
What The Puck by F.J. Hartland
Cupcake's on the Couch by Courtney Seiberling
Happy Birthday, Leonard by Walter Thinnes
Begin the Peregrine by Gayle Pazerski

Future Ten 5 will also feature the work of five directors, each of whom will helm two of the plays. Overseeing the shows are Fred Betzner, Sloan MacRae, Jaime Slavinsky, Kellee Van Aken and Stacey Vespaziani.

There will be a $10 admission collected at the door.

PLEASE NOTE: Seating is limited, and there will be no advance ticket sales.

For more information go to www.futuretenant.org

Showing my twisted side

Sure, I'm a mommy-to-be, but I'm still me. And this bun in the oven has not changed the fact that I have a dark and twisted sense of humor. As if the play I started outlining yesterday didn't prove that (it involves a Santa with no pants and the mother of the second coming), my Halloween costume will clearly show it.

I wanted to involve the pregnancy in the costume because it's not something that I'm likely to have many opportunities to do. The belly painting options seemed interesting (pumpkin, fish bowl, etc.), but at 20 weeks I'm not quite round enough to get the full impact. Other options seemed obvious and overdone: pregnant nun, pregnant cheerleader, pregnant (white trash) Britney. The bun in the oven costumes were cute but would be difficult to navigate a party in. (One year I was Botticelli's Venus with a long, wired wig, a body suit, and a giant foam shell. Everyone said I looked great, but shell kept me standing in the corner for most of the night.)

I wanted my Halloween costume to be a bit more creative, allow me show off my belly, be reasonably comfortable, and ideally be a little demented.

I'm going to be dead Sharon Tate.

Per the crime scene photos, she actually died in her underwear. Even though it is "unseasonably mild" today, I wasn't comfortable going that far. A picture taken the day before she was killed shows her in a cropped tank top (showing her belly) and little shorts. I've translated that as shorty pajamas with a cropped top. I've also added a robe for modesty and some warmth.

I have a long blonde wig and fake eyelashes. Again, not realistic to the crime photos but in order to better convey the character, I'm going to do bold 60s eye make-up.

I have some fake skin to make slash marks on my belly and chest. I've already stabbed the robe a bunch of times with a knife covered in fake blood. I have a lot more spray blood to spray over me.

One more little detail. They tied a white rope around her neck, threw it over a rafter, and tied it to another victim. I'll have a white piece of rope around my neck to indicate this.

So that's all.

I told you I was dark and twisted! Is it wrong that a future mother would find this amusing. I don't think so. My child may share my sense of humor or think it's weird/embarrassing, but I don't believe that will impact the child's overall development. After all, I got my sense of humor from my Dad. Other than wanting to be dead Sharon Tate for Halloween I think I turned out just fine.

One more week

One more week of the presidential campaign. And the hope is that late next Tuesday night we will know the winner. For better or worse. Hopefully the better.

This year's election has consumed me like no other before it. I crave updates and speech snippets and endorsements. I have been excited and worried and hopeful and scared. Sometimes, it seemed I felt those things all at the same time.

This election has brought up some ugly traits within American. These will not go away after the election, but the hope is that the certainty of who will lead the next 4 years will cull the ugliness if only under sense of defeat.

When the election is over I hope to regain my focus for other things. Preparing for the birth of my baby. Finishing the first draft of my new play so it can be workshopped next month. Relaxing. Not having to spend my time bouncing through the punditry trying to grasp at hopefulness without taking anything for granted.

I already did my civic duty. I voted early. Now I just have to wait for the rest of the nation to decide.

A Point of Agreement

Atheists and Fundamentalist Christians disagree about a lot of things, but there is one point on which they perfectly agree. "We will be with Jesus when we die." The Christians see this as meaning that they will go to heaven, where Jesus is waiting for them. And the atheists...well, they don't believe that Jesus exists. And they don't believe in life after death; therefore, after they die they won't exist. Just like Jesus. We will all be with Jesus when we die. At least the atheists and the Christians. I'm still not sure where the other religions fit in to all of this.

Work in Progress

My husband patiently allowed me to hole up in our office for most of yesterday. I must admit that my attention was often split between writing and checking out NFL stats particularly as they impacted my fantasy football match-up this week. Still, I got quite a bit done on full-length play I've been working on. And by working on I mean that I started strong but haven't touched the script in over a month.

I forced it out. There are details of the story that I'm still uncertain of, but I made myself put something on paper. It's hard to rewrite what you haven't written in the first place. The script is still rather short for a full length, but I notoriously underwrite my first drafts. I tend to fly through the events as they unfurl in my head, which means I have to go back and add pesky things like character development later.

It felt good to get this out. This was a project that really excited me in the beginning. It is my first time blending my playwriting with my professional life as it is a story that deals with information privacy issues. Forcing myself to work reminded me that the idea still excites me. It's just that little things like being pregnant have been a distraction (as well as, at times, making me exhaustion to the point of uselessness).

This project also scares me. The subject is something that interests me greatly, but I am a bit of an informaiton privacy wonk. Can I keep the story interesting and avoid sounding like I'm proselytizing? Can I keep enough techie details to be authentic without losing the audience in jargon? Plus, as the play is currently structured it combines realistic scenes with very non-realistic scenes. Will it work?

The only way to know if the play will work is to continue writing it.

Although I don't intend to give up writing for motherhood I know that in the beginning there will not be much time for creating new work. As a result, I want to get a lot of writing done this winter to have things that I can edit and submit as time permits when the baby is born. This play will be the centerpiece of that effort. I look forward to getting home tonight and continuing my effort.

Serious hormones

This morning I went into a panic and mad a bunch of last minute line up changes for my fantasy football team. Then, I went in search of affordable maternity pants that aren't ugly. After several hours of driving around to many stores and trying on numerous pairs of pants, I came home with no pants but with a shirt I don't need. I checked my fantasy scores only to find that my last minute changes f*ed me. Essentially, everyone I benched did well, and everyone I played did lousy. Now, I'm crying. This sucks.

ZOMG! ur txt is 2 l8!

I seem to remember my mother telling me it is rude to call people before 9 AM and after 9 PM. It seems to me that most civilized folk follow some similar rules although the times may be adjusted a bit. (An exception is college when everyone has crazy schedules and late night calls, even on weekdays, were not unexpected.)

Now, I don’t believe that people aren’t up before 9 AM or go to bed at 9 PM. That's definitely not my schedule. However, before 9 AM people are often busy getting their day started, particularly during the work week. After 9 PM, people are usually winding down for bed (on weekdays) or already busy (on weekends). Of course, there are exceptions if you know for sure someone is available. They may be even expecting the call. (“I can’t call until 10 tonight, is that okay?”) But, if I don’t know I try to stick to the rule unless the call is for something really important. Like I said, it seems that most people do the same.

But text messages seem to be different.

Yes, a text message is less of an interruption than a phone call, but it’s still an interruption. If the phone ringer is active, it will still make a sound. The receiver is still likely to look at the message to see what it is whether she was awakened from sleep or is rushing to get ready for work.

Last night, my husband and I finally made it to bed early. All the rest of the week, despite intentions otherwise, we have ended up staying up late, leaving us both functioning as walking zombies. But last night we finally go to bed early. Until…

There was a beep. This is how soundly asleep we both were: at first we were so out of it that we couldn’t figure out what the sound was. After a while I decided it was my husband’s phone. He decided it was mine. He was right. (Sorry, sweetie.)

I got up and got my phone. The text message was, of course, of no particular importance, but the damage had been done. I couldn’t fall asleep again for over an hour. My husband ended up getting up because he couldn’t sleep.

Perhaps I was asking for this. If I didn’t want to be disturbed I shouldn’t leave my ringer on, right? The problem is, I like to have the ringer on at night because of those times when there is truly something important. Sure, those messages usually come as actually phone calls and not texts, but on my phone turning the ringer on and off applies to everything. (One exception is Twitter, which has very good DND options for phones.) To only turn off text messages I would have to change the text messages settings each night and change them back in the morning. It’s easier to be annoyed.

Some text messages are random thoughts that people want to share at that time. I think the spontaneity of the content prevents people from thinking about whether this is an appropriate time to share. But I wish people would stop to think about that for a moment. At least before hitting "send" to me.

If you want to let me know something and it is not between 9 AM and 9 PM, unless it’s urgent, send me an email. You can do that from your phone. You don’t even need a “smart phone” or anything. Just type my email where you would normally put my phone number in the text message. That way, I can get your message and respond at a time when you aren’t waking me up or jarring my precisely timed morning routine. Oh, your message won’t be meaningful a few hours later? It’s just not that important? Precisely.

My abstract condition

I'm pregnant.

I know I'm pregnant. Tests have told me I'm pregnant. I've heard a heartbeat other than my own hiding in my lower abdomen (twice). I've even seen an ultrasound picture of a 7 cm long fetus. I'm definitely pregnant.

Still, part of me doesn't believe it. I mean it's very unreal to think that there is a little person growing inside of me. Weird! And although visits to the midwives and hospital labs provide scientific assurances, my daily experiences are far more abstract.

Sure, I've gained 8 pounds in the past 15 weeks, but my weight has gone up and down my whole life. I've had the occassional headache, but many people do. My breasts have been tender, but that's still pretty minor.

I haven't had morning sickness, and I'm not going to complain about that. I certainly am thankful to not have to have daily head-first explorations of my office bathrooms. However, that would have been a more dramatic sign that "Yes, this is happening."

So when does it become real? When I finally "pop" out to a rounded belly rather than a simply pudgy one? When I feel a kick? When I'm so huge I can barely stand to move? Or will it not hit me until a baby comes out of me? Is it possible to think, even then, where did that come from?!

Let that be a lesson to you

The most significant political revelation about Sarah Palin's Yahoo! email account being "hacked" is that she used a private email for official business (not unlike some other elected officials we know...perhaps she does have the experience to be VP!). Regardless about how you feel about that, the manner in which the account was accessed should be a lesson to anyone who posts online.

The reported way it happened was that the attacker got in by activating the "I forgot my password" functionality, which forced him (or her?) to answer some personal questions. The first questions were standard: birthdate and zip code. The last was self-selected, in this case, where Sarah Palin met her husband. The attacker successfully gained access because all of this information was easily available online.

A few articles have mentioned how this is a risk for people in the public eye; however, a similar attack can be made on people who post personal information, such as on MySpace or FaceBook.

Birthday is pretty common. Sure some people suppress the year "for security purposes," but all it takes is a post about a birthday milestone (21st, 30th, etc.) and some basic math skills to work around that.

Zip codes are more rare in personal posts, but addresses can sometimes be found through other sources. Also, if you live in a small town (Wasilla, AK?) there may be a limited number of choices, or if you frequently post about the neighborhood you live in you may have already narrowed down the options.

High schools and colleges are frequently posted with alumni pride, but they are also used as security prompts (either directly or indirectly as in where Sarah Palin met her hubby: Wasilla High).

What's a social networker or blogger to do?

First, limit the blatantly personal stuff, but realize some is likely to leak out. Even if you don't post under your real name someone may post a comment with your name or an obvious variant. References to milestone birthdays equal references to birthdates. Referring to maternal grandparents by name usually means you just revealled you "Mother's Maiden Name."

Second, limit access to all but the most generic information. Sadly, this can limit some of the fun of websharing (note that this blog is fully open as of this post); however, it can help prevent your data from being easily read by anyone. But don't think that limiting to "friends" will make everything okay. All but the most disciplined friends lists have a way of getting unwieldy and including people you may have never really met. Also, there can be security incidents in which data is "accidentally" made public due to a security flaw. Or the site can be hacked. Oh, and there can be a lot of developers (for the site you use as well as plug in applications) that may have access to your data. The simple answer is if it's on the Internet assume a lot of people may be able to see it.

Third, lie in your security questions or modify the truth to make the answers unguessable. Say you were born in a city you've never been to. Answer your mother's maiden name with your parent's anniversary date. Move your hands over on the keyboard so typing the same word ends up as nonsense. Of course the risk in these cases is that YOU will forget the answer, which is why number four is important.

Fourth, be sure to list an alternate email. If you have another email on file most sites give you the option of having the password reset sent there. That will protect you if you make your security question so difficult that even you can't answer it. (Note, however, that this won't protect someone else from getting into your account using the question, so be sure it's a good one.)

Admittedly, the sort of attack and prevention described above implies a scenario in which someone has targetted your specific account. Hopefully, no one will want to do that. But when you realize the above can hold true for your online banking as well, perhaps it's better to be cautious. You never know when you might make someone angry or a "friend" wants to play a prank on you or you get tapped to be the Republican vice-presidential nominee. It happened to a "hockey mom" from Alaska; it can happen to you!

My brain reverts to the juvenile when bored

I was just in a meeting that had very little impact on me, so it made it all the more distractingly amusing when this conversation occurred:

Female Manager: "What do you think about Dick?"

Female Lawyer: "I'm thinking no Dick."

FM: "But this looks like it's 90% Dick."

FL: "Yeah. This is a lot of Dick."

Male Accountant: "I thought we wanted Dick except for administrative."

FL: "I think we should do it again and pull the Dick out."

Seriously, it went on like this. Don't these people know what they are saying? Maybe they're just too sophisticated. The thing is, we all seem to be about the same age. It's not like I was the kid...I just think like one sometimes.

Flattering and Disappointing at the Same Time

"Claire's Departure" took first runner-up for best play at the Silver Spring One-Act Festival. It's nice to know the play was appreciated by the audience, but it's frustrating to have been not quite good enough.

Winning would have been a particularly nice ego boost as I wait to hear from a festival where this same play is a finalist. They were supposed to be tallying the votes on Monday, but I haven't heard anything. A bad sign or just a sign they haven't had the time to tally the votes and/or notify people? Who knows.

But I hate to wait.

Oh, as for that other overdue festival that I complained about in a previous post. They ended up making their announcement on the last day of August. And I was selected. I guess good things come to those who wait...no matter how impatiently!

The TV Report

I was raised on TV, and I haven't yet broken the habit. I comfortably sit in my living room letting my life get sucked away by talking box. And I like it.

It's a new season. Time for the return of old friends and exploration of new ones.

What I'm watching right now
Mad Men - aka the best show on TV
The Shield - The final season is going to be out of control
Project Runway - This season is pretty awful, but it's a habit.
America's Next Top Model - A REALLY bad habit. I am ashamed.
The Soup - The trasy clips I want without the shame of watching the shows. (Except ANTM. I can't help myself.)
Dexter (on DVD) - Cable costs too much to add another premium channel, but I love this show. I'm currently Netflixing my way through Season Two.

What I've been giving a try
True Blood - The first episode didn't wow me, but neither did the first episode of Big Love. The show did intrigue me, so I'll give it a few more weeks to make an impact.
Sons of Anarchy - Not as well written as, say, The Shield, but pulpy with some potential for dramatic plot lines. Plus, it's giving work to Katey Sagal and Mitch Pileggi who I haven't seen for a while. And it's nice when Ron Perlman gets to act without a bunch of crazy make-up on.

What I'm Waiting For
Heroes - Just a great show
CSI - Another guilty pleasure
Criminal Minds - More or less of a guilty pleasure than CSI? Depends on the episode.
Amazing Race - How sucked in I get depends on the teams
House - It started to lose me last season, but I'm willing to go back for more
Law & Order: SVU - Do you get that I'm a sucker for crime dramas?
Big Love - Is this even coming back?
Battlestar Gallactica - A long, long wait.

Wow, it's a wonder that I find time to do anything else at all.

Stereotypical Girls

The lesbian couple downstairs loves to blast Melissa Etheridge music on Saturday nights.

My Word Coach forgives me?

As follow up from yesterday's post, I should report that despite a lackluster series of exercises today I am back up to a 99% Expression Potential. What does that tell me about yesterday's lapse? Nothing. What does this mean for my quest for 100%? Who knows.

Could My Word Coach be taunting me? Is this like converting to Judaism or joining Project Mayhem, and I have to stand up to the rejection before I am taken seriously? Oh, My Word Coach, you are a cold bastard, but you have not broken me yet!

My Word Coach hates me

I’m a word nerd. I like words and I like word games.

In January or February I used a Best Buy certificate from Christmas to buy “My Word Coach” for the Nintendo DS. Since then, I’ve done the various word games on most of my commuting days as well as some others.

My word coach has different drills for spelling and vocabulary. These are meant to build your “Expression Potential,” which is stated in terms of a percentage. I forget where I started those many months back, but I had recently worked myself up to an expression potential of 99%.

It took a while to get to 99%. Each higher expression potential seemed to take longer to achieve. The move from 98 to 99 took months. But I’m a person who likes to finish things. I had to see if I could get to 100%.

Because it took so long to get from a 98 to a 99% expression potential, I knew it would likely take a while to get to 100%. A friend questioned whether it was even possible to get to 100%. “There will always be a time that you can’t think of the right word.” That made sense to me, but the game gave no indication that I was done. It told me that I was nearing a new Expression Potential. So, on the train, on the bus, I kept playing.

During the last week, the coach within my word coach has become increasingly negative. The artificial intelligence behind the games comments has never been as good as “Brain Age.” I would sometimes be lauded for a horrible round or derided for a pretty good one. But over the last few sessions it seemed that I got negative feedback for everything. My coach questioned whether this was important to me, whether I was taking his advice, whether we had a communication problem. Over and over he expressed his disappointment. Still, I assumed that this was just a coincidence. I played on.

But today something else happened. Something bad. After completing my daily word quota and being chided for each exercise, I was given my current expression potential. I’m so used to seeing 99% that I barely noticed that it said…98%! I had lost a point!

The game made no comment on my demotion. Granted today was not my best day in terms of performance, but I’ve certainly had worse. But never before has my potential gone down! Has my performance degraded so much that I no longer deserve a 99% expression potential? Or, did the game designers not anticipate someone trying to play to the “end” and I hit some sort of glitch?

As frustrated as I am to have lost progress, I sort of want to see what it will do next. So, yes, I will keep playing. At least for a while.

Just tell me when

I like schedules. I not so obsessive-compulsive that I can't work without a schedule, but if I am given a date and time, I take that to be firm unless told otherwise. I make other plans based on the given date and time, which is why it is frustrating when that date and time turns out to have been tentative at best.

I also tend to relate specificity with rigidity. If you tell me something is going to happen in August I'm less surprised if it happens in July or September than if you said it would happen on August 15.

This is a particular problem when submitting plays. Some theatres don't say when they'll respond. I'm actually okay with that because I don't have any expectations. Some theatres say they'll respond within three-months. I'm not surprised if three-months turns to five. In any case, I'm always happen when I hear back. Even if it's a rejection I know that at least I can mark that inquiry as closed.

Festivals, however, are when I can get frustrated. Unlike an open call for scripts, a festival is usually a scheduled event. Assuming it is a legitimate festival that is actually going to happen you know that the scripts need to be chosen before the festival date. At least there is an end in sight. but with timelines come expectations.

Because there is an end date some festivals also state dates for other milestones, such as notifying the winners. If that date passes I assume I am out of the running. However, theatre peoples don't necessarily work like project managers I have on occasion been surprised by a festival I had written off that notified me late. (Maybe someone else pulled their script. Maybe they were just late. It's hard to tell.)

Because the notification dates may not be as firm as implied the best way to know that if you are definitely out of the running is to look for a formal announcement of winners. If the winners have been announced and you're not on the list, you know you're out. (Actually, one time that's how I found out I was in. I had already checked the web site before my director got around to notifying me.)

This brings me to my present frustration.

I submitted to a festival to which I thought I had a good chance based on the theme and other restrictions. The web site said that winners will be announced publicly by the middle of August. As a result, I thought that the winning playwrights might be notified before then (early August), and perhaps they were. But now it is the 19th, and I'm getting impatient.

The definition of "mid month" is admittedly variable. Perhaps it means the middle third (10th-20th). Perhaps it means the middle two weeks. Perhaps it means the 15th plus or minus a certain number of days. Regardless, they are still potentially "on time." But I know how these things work. As the middle of the month becomes the end of the month there is even less certainty about when an announcement is made (other than before the festival, which is still a few months from now).

Honestly, I'm more annoyed than usually because I've been holding off on travel plans in case I end up being in this festival. Thinking I would know (either way) by now gave me a reasonable amount of time to plan. As days pass I think that I should just make my plans, but my fear is that I'd get the "good news" the day after booking my trip.

I should be more patient. But I just want to know!

Great Minds

Great minds may think alike, but coming up with the same answer as someone else doesn't mean you think alike. It could be luck or coincidence or you could have copied off of their paper. Coming to a correct answer doesn't make you a great mind. It just makes you correct. Once.

In Junior High I got good grades in Geometry, much to the chagrin of my teacher. You see, I never could remember the formulas. Still, somehow, I could force my way through with the formulas that I did know and come up with the correct answers. I couldn't be accused of copying because we had to do the proofs. My proofs clearly showed how I came to the answer. Each meticulous step. You see, when you know the correct formula your proof may only take a few lines. When you don’t know the correct formulas you can get there but it takes 10 times more lines of proof.

I got a good grade in Geometry, but that doesn’t mean I’m good at math. It just means I passed the class.

You can pass a lot of things, but it doesn’t make you a genius.

Greed

One aspect of our currently shitty economy that really bothers me is the mortgage crisis. I hate the greed of the banks to approve huge mortgages without even check people's income. I hate the greed of the people who needed homes that were obviously out of their price range. Sure, a lot of people got hurt when the home value decreased or when when they got laid off. They could have planned better, but it was largely unexpected. Others couldn't pay when the variable interest rate went up. They should have better understood the deal, but they couldn't have known exactly how high the rate would end up being. But others admit that they couldn't pay the mortgage to begin with. What were those people thinking? The only explanation to me is greed and materialism. They wanted a nice house and were too blinded by that desire to think it through.

Today, I read this story in The Washington Post. Apparently, the biggest home built by the TV show "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" is being foreclosed on. How could that happen? The family didn't have to pay a mortgage. They were given money to pay the property taxes. They were even given money to put their kids through college. They should have been happy and financially stable. Why then the foreclosure? Well, apparently, they used this gift home as collateral on a $450,000 loan that they now can’t pay. Pure Greed.

Now, I must admit that I’m a quite the consumer myself. I’m often buying stuff I don’t need. I’m trying to be better about that, but it’s how I was raised. With stuff. However, I was also raised not to go into debt. I use credit cards, but I pay them off monthly. My car is currently paid off, which is why I don’t intend to buy another for a while. Sure, I used to have a mortgage. (It was pure luck that I sold before the market crashed.) But I had bought a home that was no bigger than what I needed (an 800 sq. ft. condo) with a mortgage payment that left plenty of extra income for other expenses as well as discretionary spending. I always “pay myself first” by having retirement and other savings pulled out of my bank account before I even see it. I have lots of clothes, but few are designer (unless bought used or on serious sale). I have a modest car.

I’m not a good representative for minimalism. (Something that, largely for environmental reasons I’m working to change.) But I can be an example of living within my means. And I'm proud of that.

Too many people look at debt as a fact of life. I like to look at debt as a last resort for something important that I couldn't otherwise have right now: an education, a home. And even then, just because I can get a loan doesn't mean I should take it. If you are going to sign up for a 30 year mortgage you should start by making a rough financial 30 year plan. You say you can't think that far ahead? Then you shouldn't be taken on debt beyond time periods you can imagine.

People say renting is throwing money away, but those people must not be looking at the truth in lending page of their mortgage document. Interest payments are throwing money away too. At least with renting I can walk away with 60 days notice.

Shameless Self Promotion: Silver Spring Stage One-Act Festival

My play "Claire's Departure" will be performed August 21-24 as a part of the Silver Spring Stage One-Act Festival in Silver Spring, Maryland. The play premiered at the 2007 Pittsburgh New Works Festival.

Silver Spring Stage 2008 One-Act Festival information

I guess I’m a Bikram convert

I started doing Bikram yoga about 3 weeks ago. Hot yoga. 90 minutes in a 105 degree Fahrenheit room yoga. Despite recommendations to use my new member unlimited pass to take class 4 times a week to start, I only go about twice a week. I like it, but days I go to Bikram have little opportunity for anything else. I work all day. I take the train to the studio. I work out. I shower. I take the bus home. By that time is 9 PM, and I’m exhausted. I make myself a light dinner and go to bed. Still, I like it. I’m just not obsessed with it.

Or so I thought.

I had a Dramatist’s Guild meeting on Monday, so I went to Bikram on Tuesday. It was a good session. Normally I struggle to get even during bow pose, but on Tuesday I got a long even extension. I felt good. I cleaned and repacked my yoga gear and brought it into work with full intentions of going Wednesday night as well.

Wednesday was a busy day at work. That sort of stress is the sort of thing that’s nice to follow up with something as cleansing and relaxing a Bikram is for me. (After it’s over that is. At the time it is not relaxing. It is hard work.) Still, I was tired. Plus it was extremely rainy, windy, and nasty when I went to work. It was a pain getting to the train. I decided that I just wanted to get home.

But when I got home, I immediately regretted not working out. I decided to do one of my old yoga DVDs. I couldn’t find it. I think I’d loaned it to someone. My husband handed me one of the yoga DVDs he got from his sister, so I decided to give that a try. I had to stop after twenty minutes. It was just too annoying. A lot of slow, sleepy, “focus on your breath” stuff. Long repeated sequences always returning to downward dog. Boring and slow and cultlike. (The guy and his followers were all shrouded in white.)

I was upset at myself for skipping Bikram. I was still tense. I did 10 hard minutes on the Versaclimber until I sweat almost as much as at Bikram. I took a shower. I felt somewhat better.

The nice thing about not going to Bikram was being able to spend the evening with my husband. We watched a movie. We drank wines. These are the things I don’t like about nights that I don’t get home until after Bikram.

However, last night taught me what a significant impact Bikram can have on how I feel, and the converse reaction to skipping it. I wish I could go tonight, but I’m going to see a friend’s show. (It’s having a life that keeps me to 2 Bikram classes a week.) But I’m going tomorrow morning before my 4th of July plans. Would it be easier just to spend the morning sleeping in, watching tv, and making my pasta salad? Of course. But I will feel so good for going to Bikram I can’t resist. I guess I’m addicted.

Words, words, words.

Anyone who talks enough is likely to get something right eventually. It's like monkeys with typewriters.

Theatre vs. Movies

The movies were supposed to be the end of theatre. Certainly movies are more popular than than theatre. Still, theatre continues. Why?

Movies have a number of advantages over theatre. One is simply financial. Although most movies cost more to produce than most plays, once a movie is completed it can be run simultaneously on as many screens in as many cities in as many countries as the market will bear. Sure there are still distribution and publicity costs being paid, but the majority of the costs are fixed no matter how many times the movie is replayed. As for theatre, every performance costs money for actors and technicians and space rentals and insurance and on and on. Want to run the same play in multiple cities? Now you need an additional set and additional costumes as well. Oh, yes, and don't forget royalties. Those darn playwrights just insist on getting paid every night!

On an artistic level, movies do spectacle much better. Even in the early days, the capability of what could be done in a studio far surpassed what could be done live on stage. Now the technology makes even more possible. Sure, theatre (usually Broadway) occassionally goes in for the spectacular effects. But no matter how impressive sinking the Titanic on stage may have been, it was only amazing because of the live aspect of it. It was not comparable to the movie Titanic. (And in fact, the musical Titanic suffered from nights when the darn boat wouldn't sink. If it happens in a movie they don't use that cut. The theatre audiences who witness the "bad" nights, understandably, just end up feeling gypped.

So why go to theatre at all?

1. Intimacy
Particularly in a small cast play in a smaller theatre, the audience can feel the energy of the actors/characters. The audience feels this connection. It is impossible to ignore that they are all there together, even if the characters never directly acknowledge that the audience is there. When there is a quiet dramatic scene and you can hear a pin drop in the audience, you know something is special happening. When there is a hilarious comedic scene and the audience is rolling with laughter, they give back to the actors and energize them.

2. Ephemerality
Each performance in theatre only occurs once. Even the most mechanical actors will be slightly different each night. The difference may be an actual technical SNAFU. Generally, the difference is a small bit of timing, a different line delivery. The audience laughs at something no one has ever laughed at or doesn't laugh at something that normally brings down the house. The lead actress cries real tears or doesn't. Sure there is the risk that you will see the show on a "bad" night. But you could see the show on an amazing night. Regardless, it is your night. If there is a movie you love you can watch it over and over again, and it will never change. If there is a play you love you can see subtle differences in nights of the run. Or, moreso, if you see that play in a different production altogether with a different cast, director, and designers, you will get to see it in a whole different way.

3. Spectacle that you create yourself
Last night I was at a reading of a play in progress. During the subsequent discussion one person criticized a scene for being overly cinematic. What he actually meant was that it would be difficult to stage. The director of the reading program noted (I wish I remembered exactly how he worded it) that in film the spectacle is given to you, but in theatre the audience has to create it for themselves. I'd never thought of it that clearly, but that is so true.

Think of the musical The Lion King. The audience suspends their disbelief to allow puppets with visible puppeteers to be animals. The same thing would look absurdly unfinshed in a movie. The audience expects movies to make even the most fantastical stories seem real. Jungle animals need to be CGI (a'la the Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe) or something animatronic.

Even in simpler productions, the audience sees the stage, the percenium, the rest of the audience, yet they allow that to become whatever setting they are told.

In the intimacy, ephemerality, and spectacle of theatre the audience is an active participant. The audience provides energy. They provide part of the soundtrack. And they provide the necessarily imagination to make the show work.

For movies, the audience is simply an observer. For theatre, the audience is part of the ensemble.

Will technology be the death of teaching?

I was reading an article about a system called StraighterLine that is starting to be used at some colleges. The system posts self-guided course materials, and provides online access to a tutor if the student has trouble with the work. Essentially it’s a online class without a professor.

I could see this being effective for a very straight-forward class with concrete methods and definite solutions, such as algebra, but I can’t see this being effective for anything requiring complex analysis and abstract thinking. Sure such a course could be placed online. Those students who already have the skills would do just fine. But I don’t believe those other students could nurture those skills without direct interaction with a skilled teacher.

I’m not against online learning. I think it expands learning opportunities beyond geographic boundaries and, in some cases, makes it more economically accessible as well. And, I’m definitely not saying that online learning needs to mimic “old school” (literally) model. Some professors are creatively using technologies such as podcasts, blogs, and Twitter to the benefit of their students.

I worry about the model that pulls teaching out of it. Sure there have often been self-directed study models used in schools, but they were usually reserved for advanced students who were already surpassing their peers and who had the skills, motivation, and focus to learn on their own. Usually this occurred off to the side of another class, so the cost was the same for both sets of students.

A model such as StraighterLine scares me it is economically desirable. The cost of tutors (even enough to provide 24x7 coverage) is going to be cheaper than a professor’s salary. I fear a pressure to expand this usage to more and more classes. Sure this model may not work with some types of classes, but there is always the option to offer fewer of those other types of classes.

The risk is another “No Child Left Behind.” NCLB hurt arts curricula because it bases a school’s funding on standardized testable reading and math skills; therefore, reading and math often emphasized to the sacrifice of everything else. If an instructorless online system is significantly cheaper than other options, mightn’t schools be similarly compelled to focus on those classes that can be taught in that way?

Or perhaps it’s a good thing. Certainly we have all been taught by people who provided nothing more valuable than what StraighterLine provides. Perhaps it is those people who would be forced to find other work. Perhaps those teachers who truly engage and inspire, those who use the technology to enhance their lessons, who treat a classroom as a collaborative arena or thought—perhaps those wonderful people will still teach classes. Perhaps students will soon take them. Perhaps finding out there is an actual teacher tied to a course will be a signal that this is exceptional material taught in an exceptional way.

Courses that challenge the brain beyond its ability to regurgitate, be the subject art or philosophy or astrophysics, are the vital to ensuring that our future includes thinkers rather than an entire generation of human data processors.

Stuff

I like stuff. I was raised on stuff. I was an only child in an upper-middle class family. My parents bought stuff for me and for themselves. Little of what we had was particularly fancy or flashy, but we sure had a lot of it. At Christmas they went particularly overboard. They'd start shopping early and by the end of December would have accumulated huge piles of presents for each of us. A college boyfriend who spent a Christmas with us described it as "decadent." Although I bristled at the negative connotation I couldn't really argue.

Over the years I've tried to purge. When I moved from a condo to a one bedroom apartment I had to purge because of the diminishing available space. Loads and loads to Goodwill and to friends. Items sold on Craigslist. There would just be know room.

Even with the space I realize that stuff is a burden. More things make organization and cleaning more difficult. It's harder to find things amidst vast collections. A cluttered room also clutters the mind.

I'd like to get rid of books that I rarely read, kitchen appliances that I rarely use, or clothes I rarely wear, but I always worry I'll regret it. And some things are sentimental. And some things I just like. I do. I like my stuff.

On Friday, a close friend's apartment was broken into. She was robbed. They took sentimental items like her grandmother's wedding ring. They took practical items like her computer. What they didn't take they rifled through. All her stuff was gone or in severe disarray.

We all agree that the most important thing is that she was not hurt. She was not there when it happened. She is perfectly safe. We would all prefer to lose our stuff than have something happen to our persons.

Still, the loss of stuff is angering, disheartening, and disorienting. You think you are coming home to your stuff, but it is not there. You locked the door, but still it is gone. It is scary. It is upsetting.

This event makes me look at my stuff differently. What of it is *truly* important? What can I do to protect those things? What, if something were to hapen, could I just take the insurance money and buy a new one? What can never be replaced? What can I do about that? Do I have enough back-ups of my writing? Where is my favorite jewelry kept? What is just a distraction? What should I do with all my stuff?

I hope I remembered to lock the door.

There are other things I should be doing

Since coming back from the honeymoon I've lacked motivation. I've lacked motivation at work. I've lacked motivation at home.

All I can figure is that the wedding was this big exciting project, and now that it is over I don't seem to have a purpose. But that's silly. Work is just getting busier. I have numerous personal projects waiting for me. (Including a new play that is an idea I'm really excited about, but, apparently, not excited enough to actually sit down and write more than 2 pages of.)

I'm not even excited about my "Chicago Premiere" tomorrow. Sure, it's just a one-night performance of a 10-minute play, but since I haven't had a production since September you'd think I'd have at least some anticipation. Honestly, when people were asking me for the details I forgot it was this week! This is my first play to be performed in my new city, and my first play EVER to be performed with my new name. Exciting, huh? I guess we'll see how I feel tomorow.

I really need to get my act together. The main reason that the house is not a complete pigsty is that John has been keeping up with things. I have done very little housework in the past few weeks. I still need to put away some of the wedding gifts. I still need to put away my winter sweaters.

I've been cooking more, so that's good. And I've had a social life, which takes up time but is no excuse. I need to regain my motivation and my balance of career, housework, friends, and writing. I had that for a while. I need that again. Oh, and I'm not working out. I was feeling so good about working out before the wedding. Now I'm turning to mush. Maybe if I start on that the rest will follow. Perhaps I can win a Pulitzer Prize for my abs.

Shameless Self Promotion: My Chicago Premiere

Women's Theatre Alliance of Chicago 10-Minute Play Fest

Join WTA at the Theatre Building (1225 W. Belmont)
on Wednesday June 11 at 7:30pm
for our 10-Minute Play Fest!
$5 general admission
WTA members free!

Featuring the following 10 Minute Plays:

"Prudence in Peril" by Kim Z. Dale, directed by Dan Foss
"Tiny" by Liza Lentini, directed by Margaret Lebron
"Incubation Period" by Trina Kakacek, directed by Tiffany Smith
"Hot Dog MFA" by Martyna Majok, directed by David Breslow
"A Boat at Sea" by Emily Schwartz, directed by Hannah Kushnik
"The Equestrian" by Chelsea Marcantel, directed by Drew Dir


Special thanks to Fest Facilitator Margaret Lebron

Women's Theatre Alliance of Chicago
2936 N. Southport
Chicago, Illinois 60657
womenstheatre@lycos.com

Wedding Day Part 1: At the Hotel

The first of many overdue wedding posts:

Preparations at the Hotel

My day started early. I was awake at 4 AM. Not panicked. Not nervous. Just awake. This is ridiculous, I thought, I have a big day ahead of me. I need more sleep.

I tried to sleep more. I had a little success until 5:30. I thought, this is still obsessively early. I thought back to when I was a kid and I would wake up insanely early on Christmas morning. My parents wouldn’t let me wake them up until at least 6 AM. I decided I should try to sleep until 6.

The time from 5:30 to 5:45 took so long I couldn’t stand it. I had to get up. My maid-of-honor and a close friend who was serving as my wedding day coordinator were staying at the hotel with me. I would get up quietly as not to wake them. I would go to the bathroom then maybe do some yoga. But when I went into the bathroom the girls starting talking. Had I woken them? No, they were way too animated for that. It turns out we had all been awake for hours. No one wanted to wake anyone else.

Now, what? We didn’t want to get ready too quickly, but the hotel breakfast didn’t even start until 6:30. We talked for a while. My MOH (who also made and designed my dress) sewed a pocket of extra fabric in which she could carry tissues with her bouquet. (This will become important later.)

When 6:30 finally arrived we went downstairs and got breakfast. There was basically no one else there. We took our time eating. When we were bored with that, we grabbed some to go cups of coffee and OJ and went back upstairs.

We started getting ready but slowly. The photographer was going to show up a little after 9 to take pictures of us getting ready. We didn’t want to be completely done before that. Additionally, I tend to be the type of person who gets ready really early for big events then has to sit around waiting. I didn’t want to do that this time. I’d have to do enough waiting once I was at the wedding site.

We worked on hair and make-up and listened to a mix CD I had made for the girls. (When that CD was done we put on some Madonna and Prince.) The photographer showed up just when we were getting ready to make mimosas. (Remember that OJ we snagged from breakfast?) The photographer took pictures of us drinking from plastic Days Inn cups (very classy) and doing finishing touches on hair and make-up, then he went upstairs to take some pictures of the guys getting ready.

While the photographer was with the guys we got dressed. I shouldn’t have put my jewelry on before the dress, but as I’ve emphasized we were killing time. Unfortunately, I got a little snagged getting into my dress, and it f’ed up my hair a bit. It still looked okay, but it had looked better before. Oh, well.

After all the care taken to put on my dress I had to remind my MOH that she should get dressed too! Another friend came by to hang out and enjoy some mimosas. The photographer came back and took some final shots, such as my MOH putting on my veil. Then we were ready to head out for the restaurant.

Now, I’m not a completely traditional girl, but there are some things I really like. One of these is for the bride and groom not to see each other until the ceremony. I think that moment when they first see each other is a beautiful part of the day. I know some people do a special reveal ahead of time, but I feel like this is a part of the ceremony. I did not want John to see me before the wedding.

As planned, my friend who was organizing the day called the best man to let him know we were going to be on the move and that they should stay put, but he didn’t answer his phone. She tried their hotel room, but they didn’t answer there either. We were a bit anxious, not because we thought I’d been jilted but because we thought the guys might be at breakfast or something. We didn’t want to anticlimactically have the first time John saw me to be by randomly running into us in the hall. Luckily, we got a hold of the best man and found that they were walking by the lake, a safe distance away.

We went outside to catch a cab. My MOH lived in Pittsburgh for too long and does not adequately know how to hail a cab. We were planning to walk to the corner, but we saw a cab coming down the street we were on. My MOH timidly put her hand up from the middle of the sidewalk when the cab was a block away. That’s a good way to have a cab drive right passed you. So I, in full-length dress and veil stepped right to curb and put my arm out. At that moment the wind picked up and billowed out my veil. It happened so quickly that I don’t know if the photographer got the shot but I hope so.

To be continued...

Review: Womenscene

http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/08138/882523-42.stm

Stage Review: 'Womenscene' offers unusually diverse local skits
Saturday, May 17, 2008
By Samantha Bennett, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

If your theatrical diet consists mainly of Broadway tours and flashy productions in the well-known venues Downtown, you may not be getting enough fiber.

For something locally grown, organic and beneficial to local organizations -- as well as being entertaining food for thought -- you could head out to the Union Project tonight for "Womenscene," "an evening of eclectic theatre written for women, about women and to benefit women."

There's a little something for everyone in the 90 minutes of short pieces (mostly monologues) written by local playwrights and performed by local actors. The evening begins with a birth, as a fond dad played by John Stetor recalls the years spent raising "Punkin' " (written by F. J. Hartland), and before the final love letter to a can-do single mom written by Sandy Boggs and performed by Vince Ventura, we've seen persecution, comedy, Internet porn, sexuality, culture, loss, political polemics, stalking and celebrity.

Standouts include Chris Gavaler's "Who's on First," a rapid-fire modern update on the old Abbott and Costello chestnut performed by Rachel Noderer and Greg Caridi, and Paula Martinac's "The Tenants," with the splendid Barbara Russell as a quintessentially Pittsburgh landlady.

Kim Zelonis' "Retro Hottie" explores a predicament that could happen to any woman who was young and needed the money, while her "Covered" is the playful confession of a man who can understand, if not entirely approve of, the utility of the burqa. A third Zelonis piece, "Unbred Mother," was dropped from the lineup Thursday night when I was there, but it should be back tonight.

"She Times Three" by Carol Mullen has a setup and rhythm that recalls "The Vagina Monologues," while Marilyn Bates' "Untitled No. 2," affectingly read by Etta Cox, is also reminiscent of some of the darker, hush-inducing material in Ensler's landmark work.

Founder and performer Donna Rae and director Lora Oxenreiter have stitched together a quirky, diverse, absorbing evening and informed it with infectious energy. All proceeds go to the Lupus Foundation of Pennsylvania, Women and Film in Media, Pittsburgh, and the Union Project, a community and job-training center.

The acoustics of the former church venue aren't ideal; there's a lot of echo, partly controlled by microphones, and the occasional idling bus or passing motorcycle intrudes. On the other hand, there are hors d'oeuvres at every performance, and a coffee bar that helps create an informal, neighborhood coffeehouse ambience.

You can fill your plate with something you won't get just anywhere.

Samantha Bennett can be reached at sbennett@post-gazette.com or 412-263-3572.
First published on May 17, 2008 at 12:00 am

Press: Womenscene

http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/08136/881841-326.stm

In the Wings: 'Womenscene'
Thursday, May 15, 2008
By Christopher Rawson, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
• Donna Rae, who once upon a time invented the Pittsburgh New Works Festival, is at it again, dreaming up "WOMENSCENE," an eclectic evening of 14 monologues and short scenes written for and about women, to benefit women.

Director Lora Oxenreiter suggested inviting local playwrights to participate. The assorted monologues and dialogues are mostly less than five minutes, and the whole program runs about 90 minutes. It will be staged tonight through Saturday, 7:30 p.m., at The Union Project, 801 N. Negley Ave., Highland Park; tickets $20 ($5 discount with student ID); reservations at 412-655-9530.

"It marks the culmination of two years of planning, cajoling and recruiting writers, staging volunteers and actors," says Rae, a noted cajoler. She credits Richard E. Rauh for underwriting the project so that all the money raised each night will go direct to these beneficiaries: The Union Project (tonight), Women in Film and Media (Friday) and LUPUS Pennsylvania (Saturday).

The program: John Stetor in F.J. Hartland's "Punkin"; Demetria Marsh in James Michael Shoberg's "Spellbound"; Rachel Noderer and Greg Caridi in Chris Gavaler's "Who's on First"; Tracey Taylor Perles in Kim Zelonis' "Retro Hottie"; Rachel Noderer, Diana Ifft and Donna Rae in Carol Mullen's "She Times Three"; Caridi in Zelonis' "Covered"; Barbara Russell in Paula Martinac's "The Tenants"; Diana Ifft in Chris Gavaler's "Cell Phone"; Jeannine McKelvia in Zelonis' "Unbred Mother"; John Stetor in Judy Meiksin's "Untitled No. 1"; Etta Cox in Marilyn Bates' "Untitled No. 2"; Rae in Bates' "Bombshell"; Marsh in Meiksin's "Mariam"; Vince Ventura in Sandy Boggs' "The Superhero."

Others who had hoped to participate include Bingo O'Malley, who got a movie, and Lenora Nemetz, who got a Broadway show. "The project was good for them," jokes Rae. It promises to be good for others, too.

Shameless Self Promotion: WomenScene

Correction: They added my third monologue. I have 3 monologues in this!

I have two monologues in this.

WOMENSCENE

An Evening of Original Theatre about Women for Women
Made possible with a generous contribution from
Richard E. Rauh

Join us for an evening of eclectic theatre
A Dozen or So Monologues and Short Scenes
Written for women, about women and to benefit women

Benefit Partners
Union Project – Thursday, May 15, 2008
Women in Film and Media Pittsburgh – Friday, May 16, 2008
Lupus Pennsylvania – Saturday, May 17, 2008

$20 per person
$15 with a Student ID

Union Project
801 N. Negley Avenue at the corner of Stanton Avenue
East Liberty
Parking Available


Curtain 7:30 P.M.
Reception 9:00 P.M.

Reservations Suggested
(412) 655-9530
After May 1, 2008


The Union Project, in East Liberty, provides community space to connect, create, and celebrate. The Union Project brings Pittsburgh communities together through mission-based businesses (stained glass restoration, ceramics studio, space rental and cafe) and community events for youth and adults.

LUPUS Pennsylvania is the local nonprofit health organization dedicated to finding the causes of and cure for lupus, and to providing support, services, and hope to all people affected by lupus.

Women in Film and Media Pittsburgh is dedicated to improving the status and portrayal of women in film, video and other screen based media.

What, me nervous?

The wedding is 10 days away. There are a few remaining things on my to do list, but they are manageable. I have no doubts about John and am excited about continuing our lives together. I'm not nervous. Or so I think.

I haven't slept well the last few nights. I wake up multiple times, which is unlike me. Is that because I'm nervous, or have I just been drinking too much coffee? Or is it the earthquake aftershocks since the beginning of my interupted sleep was the night I woke up because of the earthquake?

I had a weird dream last night. I'll call it "The Director's Nightmare." I was directing a show, but I hadn't read the script. It was apparently about Napoleon, who was being played by Vern Troyer. Apparently Mini-Me had gotten so into the role that he believed he actually was Napoleon. There were many actors in the room, and we were crammed around a table that was too small for the group. I don't remember all the actors or their roles, but I remember a large hairy man who was playing a "bear." A friend from Pittsburgh was the producer. He encouraged me to talk to people about pay as long as I stayed within budget. But I didn't know the budget. It was all very chaotic then everyone left. Including the people I had ridden their with. I had to walk back to work. (This was apparently happening in the middle of the day.)

So that's a weird dream. Not really a nightmare but certainly off-putting. Is it about the wedding? Does it mean I'm nervous? I don't know.

Mensa is not smart enough to know I'm not a member

I received this message from Mensa:

Happy birthday!
Aristotle is attributed with saying, "The energy of the mind is the essence of life." (And we tend to agree with him; after all, he's been voted into the American Mensa Hall of Fame.) In continuation of his thought -- and, of course, in celebration of your birthday -- we wish you an intellectually stimulating year and a long and energetic life.
With warmest regards and continued appreciation of your membership,
American Mensa

Dear Mensa,

Thanks for the birthday sentiment. You may, however, want to check your records. I quit your organization a year ago after realizing that I don't need your uninspired periodicals and frequent credit card offers to know that I'm smart. Your events are not fun because most Ms feel the need to prove intellectual superiority at all times, which makes for tedious discourse. Trust me, I have plenty of intellectual stimulating and thought provoking conversations with my friends, who are all very smart despite most not being official members of your group.

I'm old enough and confident enough to know that intellect is only interesting or significant if it is used well. A specific IQ number and membership in a group based on that number is pretty meaningless. Last year I became smart enough to stop paying for the privilege.

-Kim Z

Under two weeks

So it is now less than two weeks before my wedding. Other than the outburst about the guest break down (which I'm over now, thank you), I'm relatively calm. Which is what actually makes me a bit anxious.

It doesn't feel like less than two weeks. My mind hasn't grasped that yet. I still feel like there is plenty of time. Then I look at the calendar, and it's like..."oh, I better get some shit done."

Why is this? I don't know. Is this a problem? I don't know. It's just weird.

It's probably better that I'm not completely frazzled, but without urgency I'm afraid the days will slide by and I'll need to do a lot at the last minute.

Today is for productivity. Finish the programs. Meet with friends designing our CD labels. Follow-up with the last reply stragglers. Design and print our announcements. Print our table number cards. Polish my grandmother's necklace. Write escort cards.

Or at least some of that.

Oh, and tomorrow's my birthday. I don't feel that either.

It's a weird time. But I'm trying to enjoy it. Or at least be in a state so I can enjoy May 3rd. It will be a big day.

I a loner...and a baby

So I'm upset right now. Like crying upset. And it's stupid. And I know that. But I can't help it.

Two of my friends just canceled for the wedding. This prompted me to look closely at the overall guest list. John's friends and family are 2/3 of the guests. He has twice the number of people coming as I do.

On one hand, this makes sense. He's a very social person with a close family. I'm a bit of a loner with a widely dispersed and not close family.

Still, I can't help but think back to the fact that we invited almost the same number of people. That the final list is not because he invited more people, but that the people I invited had a higher rate of "regrets."

This may make sense, too. Many of my friends and some of my family are in theatre or other areas of the arts. They either don't have the money to travel, or they have shows. (Or one couple is due to have a baby pretty much the same time I'm getting married.)

I know these things. Still, it's upsetting. And I'm crying like a fool.

I was a pudgy, nerdy kid with low self-esteem. I was not popular. I had few friends. I finally have self-confidence. I do have good friends. Yet I look at these numbers on a spreadsheet, and I'm embarrassed. Like I should be ashamed. People joke that a wedding is all about the bride, right? Well, this one is not. It can't be. Most of the people aren't there to see me.

Yes. Many of John's friends would probably consider me a "mutual friend." But so would many of my friends for him.

I know it's not a contest. And most of the people who I am truly close with will be in attendance. But I'm suddenly very sad.

I hope this emotional outburst is just me getting it out of my system. I hope I won't be a mess for this or any other reason on my actual wedding day.

Don't bring me down, Bruce.

I'm not a negative person. I suppose I should respect the choice of those who are, but it irks me. Negativity is a toxin. Exposure to it is not good mentally or physically, so I begrudge those who force on me what I carefully try to avoid.

I'm not talking about people who are negative in the face of significant challenges or tragedies. Although I think a positive attitude can help under all circumstances, it takes a high degree of strength that I can't guarantee that I even I could muster under truly horrific circumstances. Those people have a justifiable reason to be negative. At least for a while.

What irks me are people who take a minor annoyance or inconvenience and turn it into a superlative spew of negativity. Everyone and everything is obviously against them; therefore, everyone and everything is hateful! This attitude is particularly aggravating when the incessant rants are about things that can be changed if the person rationally takes the time. But I suppose it's easier to be super negative about anything in life that isn't handed over to you just as you ordered with a bow and a nice note.

Life takes work.

I like to help people. I love to teach. When people rant about things I know how to fix I want to help them learn how to succeed, how to master whatever it is that has been thwarting them. But some people don't want to listen. They just want to rant. Why? In some cases, perhaps, it is just to blow off steam, but what of cases when the anger/frustration/despair is sincere and lasting? Are you looking for pity telling me this? Am I supposed to commiserate with you about how horrible unfair life is, particularly to you? Sorry, but in these cases I don't think I have the capability to do either.

I don't want to hear it. Yes, I'm your friend. I should want to hear your problems. But I'm sick of your inability to deal with what to most would be minor annoyances. And you're just depleting me as an available ear and shoulder. I hear so many of your overblown complaints that I have a hard time distinguishing when you are rightfully aggrieved. And you rarely are. Remember that story about the boy who cried wolf? I hate to say it, but your rants are full of imaginary wolves. One of these days there may be a real wolf. You'll lose your job or there will be a death in your family or something truly horrible and upsetting and scary. I hope not, but as positive as I am about day-to-day setbacks, I know that bad things do happen. I'm afraid that if something happens to you I won't answer the phone or open your email because I'll assume that you're fuming about nothing.

I want to be there for you, but I can't be your dumping ground. I take negative feelings very seriously. They make me want to do something. They run through my mind and exhaust me. I can't waste that energy on the minor inconveniences of your life. I'm sorry.

Look. You made me rant. I hate that.

16 Days

16 Days. That's just slightly over two weeks. That's all the time I have before the wedding. And it's starting to get hectic.

I'm a project manager by trade, and I think I've managed the wedding project pretty well. I have lists and spreadsheets and loyal helpers. Still, there is stuff that can't really be done until the attend (particularly until all the RSVPs are in...which still hasn't happened).

Plus, there are extra chaos things. My birthday is coming up. I don't mind birthdays, but this year it seems like an added distraction. John's birthday is right after the wedding, so I'm trying to get that taken care of ahead of time as well.

I also just learned that two retirement accounts I have from previous jobs will be "much more complicated" to roll over once I'm married. I'd like to get that taken care of, but it may just have to wait for the "much more complicated" option, particularly since I can't find my info for how to log into either system. Just an added thing.

And work is busy. I have a system going live tomorrow, but it's main test (end of month activities) will occur while I am away. I have to do my best to prepare everyone ahead of time. Another system we plan to go live next month, which means the inital activity in the system will occur when I am not here. I have to prepare those people as well.

Anything else? Who knows? Well, I do have to clean up my chaotic house a bit since some of our guests are staying there. When do they arrive? When do they leave? I don't know. That's another thing to check.

I'm not worried or nervous or having cold feet (at least not yet). I'm not even that frazzled. There is a lot to do, but it is manageable. It will just be a very busy 16 days. I'll definitely need a few days at the beach when it's done!

My kind of town (Chicago is)

A good friend of mine moved to Chicago last year shortly after I did. She just sent a rant about how much she hates the city and wants to go somewhere else. This was prompted in part by a horrible commute in which her train was stuck underground. Still, I can tell her that trains get stuck underground occasionally in other cities, too.

I love Chicago. Within my first few weeks of living here it felt like home. First, I find it extremely easy to get around. The trains and busses, although not as pretty as in DC, run frequently and along extremely useful corridors. The grid system of numbers makes it easy to find addresses because, for example, a 2400 address will always be just north of Fullerton. It’s highly logical and organized and I love that.

I love that things are always happening here. When I lived in Pittsburgh, non-natives that came there for school would complain that there wasn’t enough to do. At the time, I didn’t understanding. Having spent my early adult years in Pittsburgh with my high school years in Billings, MT and a small town in Arizona, there seemed to be things to do. Now, I understand what they meant. In Chicago there are so many things to do that you couldn’t possibly have the time or money to do them all. There are always all sorts of bands playing. Many plays in a broad range of genres. In summer, there are multiple festivals each weekend. And, of course, there are the things that are always there: the museums, the parks, the lake.

There is amazing food here of many styles and ethnicities. Most of it can be obtained for reasonable, if not cheap, prices. I’m lucky enough to live in a neighborhood where a lot of great restaurants are in walking distance.

I love that Chicago is truly a city but has cute little tree-lined neighborhoods.

Okay, the winter is rough. So I bought a hardcore winter coat and didn’t go outside as much. And, although inconvenient, the snow is beautiful.

I guess that not everywhere is for everyone. I know people who like DC; whereas, although I didn’t hate it, I was happy to leave. All I can hope is that everyone finds a place that makes them as comfortable as Chicago is to me.

Girls! Girls! Girls!

Yesterday was my bachelorette party day. 7 of us spent 3 hours at a day spa getting massages, facials, manicures, and pedicures while eating fruit & cheese and drinking wine. Then, for dinner, we went to Minnie's, where everything is miniaturized. After that we hung out at a bar for a while drinking and talking and playing one bad game of pool. Then four of us went back to an apartment and ordered pizza while we wound down. It was a great day and a lot of fun, mostly because I was in superb company.

The amazing thing about this is that I haven't really had a lot of close girlfriends since elementary school. For most of high school, college, and my 20s I had convinced myself that I didn't like women. At least most women. Sometimes I would have one close female friend, but typically I was one of the boys.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I see now that this was tied to the low self-esteem that I had in those times of my life. I had convinced myself that the true measure of a woman's worth was attention from men. As a result, women were the enemy. They were competition. Better to avoid them altogether.

It was easy to maintain this because I worked and studied in a male dominated field. When I got my master's degree in information security there were 12 people in the program. There was one other girl, but she was antisocial and rarely around. De facto I was The Girl. And I loved it. As I had always loved it.

After graduation I started to value the friendship of another woman who I had met in school who had been in another program. However, she was often busy, so we'd usually see each other once or twice a month. It was only when I came to Chicago that I found myself becoming close to multiple women.

Some of these women are the significant others of John's male friends. Some are the significant others of some of my male friends. One is my roommate from college with whom I've been happy to reconnect. We are a varied group by careers, marital-status, and styles. I value all of these women and the type of bond that I think can only exist among women.

John remains my best friend, but I find comfort and support in the company of these women. My life is so much fuller for having them in my life. I am so glad that I have become comfortable enough with myself that I don't have to compete with them. I can enjoy their strengths rather than be intimidated by them. And they have many strengths to enjoy.

And we are a hot bunch of chicks. Even sans make-up.