Fight the Fringe: Day 1

When I was little, I wanted a fringe. Jenny had a fringe. Beth had a fringe. Pretty much everyone had a fringe. I wanted that. But no. I had to have long, straight hair. Never mind the fact that it would curl up beautifully and make other girls cry with jealousy. I wanted the fringe in front.

My mother finally caved a bit when I was 8 years old (or 9?), when I was a complete nightmare when anyone combed my hair (my poor father even tried a couple times). I got an above-the-shoulder cut with feathering around the face. This was the 80s. It was awesome.

Since then, I’ve gone back and forth. Bangs are easy to cut and the biggest pain in the ass to grow out. In the last couple years, I’ve tried a few times, gotten fed up, and pulled out the scissors.

This time it’s different. This time, I’ve decided that the fringe looks dumb. The best it ever looked was my engagement weekend. I have not been able to get the bangs back to that state of awesomeness. Now, I need hair that has some potential to be pulled back. The wedding dress demands it. So, I am embarking on Operation Fight the Fringe. The bangs must go. It will be a battle; I hate the in between stages. With my hair as long as it is right now, it’s hard to blend. But I will conquer this silly hair.

I’ll keep you posted.

Where did my fall go???

I have so many blog posts in progress. Mainly about serving as a juror for three weeks for the Robert Walters trial. Also, I was writing a fun one about the Warrior Dash in August. But none of these have been completed.

In fact, my fall has completely disappeared. It started when I agreed to teach an online class. I know I’m not supposed to do that because of the time commitment (which I’ve completely failed at this week), but I wanted to run it at least once before handing it off. And I figured I had a little time.

Then there’s the upcoming aerial dance show that I agreed to do. It’s a superhero theme. I chose Indiana Jones (I know, not really a superhero, but he’s fun) because I figured the music would be good for doing some fun drops on fabric. I failed to find any music in the 4 minute range, so I now have a 5+ minute song to fill up. The show is about three weeks away, and I have not done my routine once. I will need to participate in multiple open gyms. Goodbye time…

The jury duty really took a slice out of life. Three weeks in a courthouse listening, listening, listening. Thinking about the case. Keeping it all in because you can’t talk about it with anyone, even the other jurors. Deliberating. I was exhausted. Trying to keep up with work was a doozy, and now I’m so behind it’s ridiculous.

This is a picture of what my ring does not look like. Thank God.

Last weekend I got engaged! ENGAGED!!!! Hot Boyfriend is getting an upgrade to Hot Fiancé. The proposal was wonderful, the ring is absolutely perfect, and we are super happy.

This means we have to plan a wedding. We need to do it fairly quickly so that all of the family can be there. We’re thinking May. Planning. Not my strong suit. Hot Fiancé is all over it. He created a wedding email address; he bought a domain for a website; he’s ready to sit down and create a schedule and checklist. I am just running around in circles in my head thinking, “We need a venue! We need a venue! How many people? We need to know! Everything’s going to be booked already!” It isn’t very helpful.

Now, I do think this is going to be fun. I just need to get started. But it does create a time issue for the rest of the fall. Work, class, aerial, wedding planning… Woot.

(Seriously, I don’t know how to do this wedding without inviting 600 million people. Whose idea was it to know so many cool people?)

Excuse me while I grab a box of tissues…

I’m sitting at my desk at work with tears running down my face because my friend and her husband put their dog to sleep today. I never met their dog, but I know what it feels like when you sit there with your old dog as he lets out his last breath and fades away into the universe. When you don’t want him to be hurt or scared anymore, but you don’t really want to let go, not even a little bit. Crap. Now I’m making myself cry more.

Earlier today, a coworker of mine was telling me about her college-aged daughter who just returned from her fourth trip to Costa Rica. Her daughter’s pretty upset; she has excellent friends there and wants to say. My coworker told me she thinks her daughter should just go, even if it means not finishing her degree right now, and really live her life. Then she told me about her twenty-something-year-old son who recently discovered that he loves coaching basketball and wants to do it forever. He has the recommendation of the CU Women’s Basketball Coach. He doesn’t care if he’s poor. He just wants to coach. The supportive mom, the idea of pursuing dreams, finding what you really want to do… It was all I could do to keep the tears in. In a good way, of course.

Yesterday, we watched “I Love You, Phillip Morris.” Have you seen that? Holy shit. Cried and cried and cried. Laughed. And cried. Oh, Ewan McGregor…

Lots of family was out this weekend for my brother and sister-in-law/ex-roommate/grad-school-bff’s baby shower. It was awesome to see everyone. Lots of little ones running around with the many small dogs. Lots of laughs. Lots of, well, family stuff. I love my family. I love my sister-in-law’s family. But family stuff is always overwhelming for me. I did not cry. Openly.

Anyway, my point is that I cry a lot. I go through a lot of tissues. I feel things rather intensely. And that’s okay. I’m glad I can empathize with people. I’m glad that even when what I’m feeling sucks, I am self-aware enough to figure out what’s going on and let it out. And I apologize if I cry on you. Don’t take it personally. Just pass the tissues and know that it means I really care about something. Even if it is just the opening score from “Little Women.”

Girl Friends

I was listening to the radio the other day while I was driving to the gym, and the two male radio hosts raised the issue of friendships across genders. In a magazine, men and women were asked who they would choose as a best friend—a man or a woman. Men almost always said another man. Women were split 50-50 between men and women. These guys thought that there was no way that could be right, that women must choose women more than that.  They asked women to call in and share their choice, with the caveat that they could not say that their partner was their best friend. I was somewhat shocked by the results.

During the time I listened, every woman who called in said that she would choose a man. Most of the reasoning included the following things:

• Women are catty;
• Other women are only interested in shopping and makeup and nails;
• Men are people you can hang out and get a beer with; women are people you get manicures with;
• I’ve always been friends with guys because girls are too frivolous (they didn’t actually use that word because it probably wasn’t in their vocabularies).

And so on. I was completely appalled by these reasons.

I couldn’t believe the sweeping judgment passed on each gender. Every person, regardless of gender, has his or her diverse interests. Being interested in something frivolous (like shopping or beer) does not mean that you do not have deeper thoughts and concerns. We are not one-dimensional creatures (at least I hope most of us aren’t).

What are these women looking for from a friendship? In a BEST friendship? How do they define friendship? If all they are concerned about are surface interests and appearances, then do they actually have true friendships? Do they know what that means?

“Women are catty.” Seriously? I absolutely detest that statement. It not only degrades other women, but it degrades the person who hides behind it. If you think that of all women, then what do you think of yourself? And I’m sure there aren’t any men out there who are manipulative or controlling or backstabbing.

When I played roller derby (as well as when I was in the sorority so many years ago it hurts to think about it), I heard the issue of girl friends come up a lot. There are a lot of women who have always had mostly, if not exclusively, male friends; many of these women tend to be attracted to roller derby. When they get into a league and start practicing and working and hanging out together, all of a sudden, these women realize that they actually have female friends. They are all from different walks of life. Some are “girly.” Some are tough. Some are white collar, some blue. Some raise families. Some are super single. Some party, some don’t. And they form friendships that are deep and meaningful, formed by getting to know each other beyond their outward appearances and interests. Women can most definitely be friends with other women.

This week, a friend of mine had a health emergency late at night. A group of my female friends jumped into action to help her out. They dropped what they were doing, woke up, or came home to make sure that she was taken care of, no questions asked. This is a group of women who do not see each other frequently, who have incredibly different lives, and who care about each other immensely. I would absolutely trust any of them with my life.

With all due respect to my male friends who are a central part of my life, I would choose a woman, hands down, every day of the week. I cannot imagine stronger bonds of friendship than those I have with my crazy, thoughtful, silly, intellectual, adventurous, wonderful  female friends.

The Slightly Less than Half-Life Crisis

What’s the name for that identity crisis that you have somewhere between the quarter life crisis and the mid-life crisis?

Lately, I find myself in this really strange middle ground. Some things are great. Some things are fine. Some things are completely up in the air. I find myself up against a timeline in my own head. By 25 I was supposed to be married. Ha ha ha! By 33 I was supposed to have three kids and be grown up. Hilarious. I wasn’t going to have a career because I was going to stay home. Can’t really do that when you’re single. (I mean, you could, but you’d probably have to give up things like cable and friends and food.) Or I was going to have the most amazing and impressive career ever. (I don’t really know what that is, but I was going to have it.) I’d dress like a business woman and get a business woman special for lunch. Now I find myself feeling like I’m racing time to try and get in all the things that I was going to do at some point in my life.

I’m not saying that I won’t get these things in. I’m sure I will (except for the career maybe, but I’ll get to that) sooner or later. But I feel like I’m racing. Maybe racing against 40? Maybe trying to catch up to all of my friends? Probably competing against all the “shoulds” in my head. It’s exhausting though. It would be much easier to just let things unfold. But, let’s face it, I’m something of a control freak.

I’ve reached that weird place in my job where I feel like I’ve done it all before and need some change of some sort. I’m also at the point where if I wanted to move up in a university setting, I’m going to need another degree. The kind of degree that can take a long time to earn. The kind of degree that might require some moving. And honestly, if I went for that kind of degree, I’m pretty sure my long term career plans would make a major shift. And I think those kind of shifts sometimes prevent you from the longevity you need to really have the most amazing career. That is okay. (And going back to school???? Oh my God! Sounds heavenly.)

Lately, I’ve been somewhat puzzled and sad about my lack of purpose. Some people have a special purpose. I may not be one of them. Some people start and run 501(c)3′s. Some people are activists for social justice in whatever form that takes. Some people have roller derby. Some people do bike races and triathlons and marathons. Some people have causes – whales, food production, rain forests, violence, education, etc. Some people have children. Some people create interesting businesses out of a need that they uncover. Some people have passion for everything they do. I do not have this right now. I like my aerial dance classes, but you’re not going to see me there three or four days a week. I don’t really do anything else right now besides work and go see a trainer once a week, try to organize my eating patterns, try to see friends, try to get some sleep. Not very inspiring.

This is NOT like the “I’m turning 30″ issue. Thirty was fun, anyway. This is more of a reevaluation time of who I am and where I’m going. And it’s uncomfortable as hell. This needs a name. I will call it “The Slightly Less than Half-Life Crisis.” Which I suppose means that I might be radioactive and slightly dangerous but not really dangerous because I’m just going to hang out and be pleasant except for a little bit of self-destructive behavior on occasion and the occasional snarky remark that will insist on slipping out despite knowing better because I am an adult, goddamn it.

I think I might be starting to think like a grown up. Oh dear…

Get Your Ship Together

After a week or two of not so much writer’s block as much as idea block, I have found a topic. This topic is “Shipping.” It is very exciting.

Long ago, I worked for a fundraising company and wound up in charge of putting together all of the shipping every day (it was a lot), making sure it went out, and following up on customer issues. I kind of liked that part of the job. I got to move around a lot, and I got to develop my own system, which I always like. Anyway, I worked with UPS, but I didn’t have to deal with the main issues with that. My boss, who was something of a pit bull, did that. And he was not nice with them. He got what he wanted. But he made sure that mistakes were fixed. Apparently you have to be like that.

Yesterday, I wrote a blog post about this topic:

Today I am modifying it a little based on developments in the shipping story.

While this may be somewhat embarrassing to admit, I am rather addicted to ShoeDazzle, Kim Kardashian’s cheap monthly subscription shoe/bag/accessory online store. I have bought a lot of hot shoes, some hot jewelry, a hot bag, and some random hot things (like a curling iron). Needless to say, they’ve shipped a lot of packages to me, and I have returned a few of them, so I am familiar with the process, especially since I spent a couple years doing shipping for a company back in the day. Last week, they unleashed three Fourth of July inspired shoes on us. One of those pairs caught my eye and said, “You must buy me.” After much Facebook advice, including the implication that it would be un-American notto buy them, I decided I’d better order them quickly.

I am Adara. You must add me to the pile of shoes on your floor.

I think it was about a year ago that ShoeDazzle switched from FedEx to UPS. Standard shipping is included in the $39.95 price of each item. No question, the move was to lower costs. I am now also sure that an amazing amount of reliability and customer service was sacrificed with that decision. Every time I’ve called ShoeDazzle, their customer service reps have been nothing but cheerful and helpful. UPS on the other hand…

The problem today is the Adara issue (ishoe?). The shipment went out last Friday and arrived in the Denver hub at Commerce City on Tuesday. Pretty normal. The status said that the package would be delivered by the end of the day on Wednesday. Perfect! I’d have my cheesy Fourth of July shoes to wear all weekend. In my impatience, I checked the tracking number a few times yesterday. It said that it would be delivered by the end of the day. But  I noticed something weird. I noticed that the “Out for Delivery” status was missing. When I got home there was no package. The tracking still said that it would be delivered. That day.

This morning I checked the tracking again early. They generally load up the trucks early for their routes. It said the package would be delivered by the end of the day today. But again, there was no “Out for Delivery” status. And there was no package when I got home. I called UPS. After going through the voice recognition system that again told me the package would be delivered today, I demanded with both button and voice to speak with an agent.

The agent picked up immediately, which surprised me. I nicely explained the situation to him and that it looked like something was going on because of the lack of delivery status. I said that I need that package tomorrow (because my hot shoes are imperative to my enjoyment of the holiday weekend). He looked up the package.

Agent: We have no information about that package.

Me: (internally: WTF????) Well, it’s showing that it was delivered to Commerce City, so is there a way to find it there?

Agent: We don’t have any information about that package.  You need to contact the company that shipped it.

Me: Yes, but it’s already shipped through UPS to Commerce City. Can you find it?

Agent: We can’t do anything. We don’t have any information after it got to Commerce City. You have to contact the company that shipped the package.

Seriously. That is what he said. They don’t have any information and for all intents and purposes it is the company that shipped the package that’s at fault for UPS losing a package.

I called ShoeDazzle; the guy was really nice and rather confused that UPS would have had me call them. But he looked up what he could. All he could see was that it says the package should be delivered by 7pm today. If I don’t get it, call them back first thing in the morning.

I try not to rant too much about customer service because I know what a tough job it is and how much it sucks to deal with crazy, angry people. But it really, REALLY bothers me that the UPS guy wouldn’t even attempt to discuss the situation with me or bring up their process for dealing with lost packages if this one really is lost. Why on earth would the company who shipped the package know where it was after UPS has moved and tracked it? UPS sucks. Sinn, I have never had a problem with FedEx.

It’s almost 7pm. There is no package on my doorstep. I’m very curious about what the outcome of this situation will be. I’m very curious as to whether I’ll be able to wear my Fourth of July shoes over the Fourth of July weekend.

I’m very happy to want to write something again!

FRIDAY UPDATE:

This morning I again checked the tracking. Imagine my surprise when I saw this:

That’s right. The package that was scanned in at Commerce City was suddenly sent out again from Ontario, CA. What?

I called ShoeDazzle. I got them to understand that I’m trying to figure out what happened at this point. The customer service agent talked to the shipping department. They couldn’t figure out what happened except that it had to be a UPS issue because the package had gone out and was scanned and is still showing delivery to my address. She gave me 20% off on my next order. That was nice of her. I wouldn’t care if the shoes had been shipped late. It’s the fact that I was expecting them to arrive on a certain date based on the shipping company’s information that’s a problem. The fact that UPS will not admit that it made a mistake makes me nuts. (“UPS never knows. They’ll always say they don’t know.” Sounds like something Hot Boyfriend said about the crews working for contractors.)

My guess is that the package got to Denver, was scanned, was not removed from the truck, went right back to the point of origin, and then was sent back to Denver when it arrived. I’ll get my Fourth of July shoes on the Sixth of July. Sad. I’ll have to make up another occasion to wear them.

Gestational Destiny

I’ve been thinking about this topic a lot lately. I supposed it’s because I’m getting older, more of the friends are getting pregnant, and more issues with that are coming to light.

Beyond the fact that you thought you’d be married with three kids by the time you were 30 (ha!), you never really thought about pregnancy or getting pregnant much. You thought about NOT getting pregnant. Even when it would have been physically impossible to be pregnant (unless you suddenly became Mary), you worried about somehow magically winding up pregnant. Every gynecological visit from the age of 18 on was one concerned with reproductive health and the discussion of ways to not get pregnant. There are 10 billion forms of birth control pills out there, and apparently, it’s a trial and error system to figure out which one doesn’t fuck with your physical, mental, and emotional states too much. They all work about the same in terms of keeping you from getting pregnant.

Then all of a sudden you are 33 and go to your annual (or bi-annual if you’re on Kaiser) appointment and instead of reviewing the ways of not getting  pregnant, the doctor suddenly asks if you want kids and tells you not to put it off for too long. She lets you know that you can quickly get rid of your birth control situation that till now, they did nothing but impress upon you the importance of. That kind of mental shift can do some weird things to a person. Do doctors suddenly condone rampant reproduction after a certain age, regardless of economic or emotional stability?

So, that’s the story of the girl who does not feel she is yet prepared in her life for a baby but wants to have one someday responsibly. Now, she’s afraid she’s “waited” too long and that the real moral of the story is to become impregnated as early and often as possible.

But this story is not serious. It is not that important. This is nothing compared to the things my other friends have experienced. Years of trying to conceive, unexpected pregnancies while on the pill, miscarriage, multiple miscarriages, ectopic pregnancies, losing a baby mid-term due to accident, losing a baby mid-term due to genetic failure,  a baby who is delivered ten weeks early to save the mother’s life, twins, twins who arrive ten weeks early, tiny babies, and large babies. And what I’ve found is that one or more of these issues is the norm, not the exception. And most of these women endure these experiences quietly and privately, so that you never know when you might be saying something (in your ignorant, sardonic way) that truly touches a deep nerve and causes pain to someone you’d never want to hurt.

Is it outside forces or is it gestational destiny? Who knows?

Is it fair? I think fairness is irrelevant. Life is going to keep reproducing itself in the way that works for it. Aside from the basic mechanics, there’s too much for us to understand there.

I am repeatedly impressed and inspired by the things these women and their partners endure. I am amazed by the hope they show and their willingness to keep working on bring forward more life and love to the world. And I’m sending big hugs to those who need it right now.