Archive for September, 2013
Lessons Learned
This past weekend, I attended a Zeta Sigma Tau sorority reunion back on the UPJ college campus. It has me thinking about lessons learned.
Life is incredibly random. Embrace it.
Once upon a time there were some administrators in some offices, sorting forms, directing college freshman into dorm rooms and classrooms, affecting who would cross my path in September of 1981.
There are many paths. Be willing to explore.
I had planned to play volleyball and become a teacher. Instead, I joined a sorority and became a writer. If I had it to do over, the only thing I’d do differently is not stress over either decision.
Look up and say hello.
You’ll sit down next to a lot of strangers in your lifetime. One or two might be destined to be a friend for life.
There are parties going on. Attend one.
At 18, I was shy. I was nervous. I was kind of a nerd. I was not a snappy dresser. But I left my dorm room and went to a party. That one brave deed led to Zeta Sigma Tau, which became the center of my life at 18 and the catalyst for a poignant, hilarious, joyful, just-what-I-needed weekend at 50.
Everything changes. Some things never change.
From 18 to 50, we slowly, steadily transform. But it’s not like squashing and reforming a lump of clay. It’s like weaving a broader and more intricate pattern. There is always a thread that ties us to our starry-eyed, stumbling, happy youth. An unsnippable, indestructible, soul-saving thread.
A shared perspective is magic.
It is good to take a long look at the past with those who were there. Not to white-wash or candy-coat but to see clearly from a distance. To put an arm around then and an arm around now and embrace it whole. To understand at a deep level that, warts and all, you are one lucky so-and-so.
Bonus: A group of aging brains remembers more great stuff than one aging brain.
At 50, adult humans become capable of time travel.
Don’t ask me about the science, but it’s true.
Stages of life.
There will be drama. You’ll have good acts and bad ones. Sometimes the script will suck. Sometimes you’ll be confused or scared. There will be those who shout. Or throw tomatoes. But, ultimately, Life is an exquisite comedy. Find a great supporting cast. And stick around for the whole show.
It’s funny . . .
Sadness and happiness get murky. Anger and joy wane. Achievements and disappointments fade away. But funny is funny forever.
It’s never about the stuff.
True friendship is not about popularity or possessions. It is about who giggles at the same dumb stuff that you do. It’s about hugging someone who hugs back. It’s about who picks you up when you fall (from hard times or too much grain punch or a skid across a dance floor). It’s about being able to join the conversation in a heartbeat, whether you’re returning from a hard day of classes or from a 30-year absence.
Graduating and grief.
Leaving your college friends at graduation is a lot like the grieving process. Over time, you cry less, you get passed how much you miss them, you get on with life. But there will be moments when that sweet ache stops you in your tracks. And you miss them all, all over again, more than can be expressed.
Women are kind, beautiful, and amazing.
If you don’t believe this one, find new friends.
This post dedicated to my sorority sisters, some of the best damn women I have ever had the privilege to know. Til next time, don’t forget for one moment that you are brilliant and lovely and funny as hell. I loved who you were. I love who you’ve become. You have a place in my heart forever as uniquely qualified life preservers.
Mac > PC
I am (finally!) the proud owner of my very own Mac. I could tell a crazy story: The brain-frying, hunch-backing research; the frustration of computereeze; the joy of smart and patient translating friends (thank-you Nancy, Robin, and Steve!); the highs and lows; the anticipation and disappointments; the ebay bidding; the problems, the fixes; the fear and relief; that final trip out to buy another mfdvi monitor adapter. I could tell the story of how this Mac ended up here. But the beginning of this story is better.
My fascination with Apple’s Mac started in the late 80s, when companies were making the transition to desktop computers.
I worked with a woman named Lynne. She was a colleague, a friend, a humorous human, and an all-around good egg. She was given the opportunity (in corporate parlance, was empowered) to decide whether or not the company’s design team would get PCs or Macs. She did the research. She involved the team. With conscientious attention to detail, all due diligence, and an open, honest, for-the-best-of-all approach, decided that, for current and future needs, the Mac was the better fit.
There lived in this village a Much-Higher-Up who had a penchant for PCs and a predilection for getting his own way. He was her boss’ boss’ boss. She didn’t stand a chance. She was bullied. She was lied about. She was pressured. She was expected to cave.
She stood her ground.
It was traumatic and dramatic stuff back then. She was my friend. It was unfair, and it was disillusioning. I felt really bad for her. But, most of all, I admired her chutzpah. I guess it showed because I was pulled aside and oh-so sincerely, oh-my-how seriously warned not to associate with her. All of the things that were wrong with that conversation couldn’t fit in a blog post, but Lynne and I laughed about it many times.
Things were never quite the same for her after that. Eventually, she got tired of fighting the lies and sick of playing the games and she got another job elsewhere. We kept in touch for a year or two, but then we lost touch. I got a call from her Mom one day, about 8 years later. Lynne had passed away. Suddenly. Tragically. She was 30 years old.
In that quirky, strange way of the brain, I realize that my fondness for the Mac is entwined forever with my fondness for Lynne. So, of course, the telling of a tale of frustration in getting a computer set up seems inconsequential. And having a heated debate over which is better — Mac or PC — is foolish.
‘Cause Macs are better. It’s what they use in heaven.
Today’s Work Environment
In-depth field research conducted over a quarter of a century has shown that the following things never occur in a traditional office setting:
– Dancing in the office space on a non-Friday.
– Playing any type of music at a loud volume, without using headphones.
– Variable start time of whenever you damn well feel like it.
– Lunch eaten at the desk due to work enjoyment.
– Mean, ignorant, and ridiculous people barred from entering the premises.
– No “developmental discussion” required as follow-up action for a cussing incident.
– Dress code permitting Eeyore sweatpants and a T-shirt, bra optional.
– Kitty cat on the desk; kitty cat on the extra office chair.
– Send email to anyone about anything with confidence in its privacy.
– Laughing is the norm when something stupid happens in your vicinity.
– One full-color printer, scanner, copier, and fax machine per person.
– An office as big as a house.
– Private kitchen with a fully stocked bar.
– Permission to leave work early to go have dinner with a friend.
Dear Giant Eagle/Brentwood
I am not a fan of grocery shopping. I go only when I absolutely have to—which is when I am out of either cat food or toilet paper. Otherwise, I make do.
You used to be right up the street. It wasn’t a big store or a “Market District” store, but it sure was convenient. Especially for someone like me who can get halfway through a recipe and realize she’s missing an ingredient.
Then you moved to a bigger location farther away. I adjusted. I re-learned where everything was. I could still leave my house, do a full shop, and be home in under an hour.
In the past few months, for some reason (that is not in the least bit obvious) you rearranged all of the aisles. And you rearranged them again. And you rearranged them yet again. Today’s less-than-major shop took me more than an hour and a half due to the required back and forth searching. And all the times I had to stop and express my frustration under my breath.
For added fun, today, while looking for the yogurt that you apparently no longer sell, I noticed a package of yogurt that had been partially opened. There were two employees less than 10 feet away. As I passed them on my way to get butter (one of the few things that is actually still in the same place), I mentioned the yogurt. I was told to tell some other employees about it. These other people were much farther away. Not farther than I could walk, of course, but, after wandering up and down every aisle and then some to pick up a few freaking items, I really wasn’t in the mood.
He suggested it twice. I ignored him twice and walked away, secretly hoping someone would soon turn that yogurt into a cleanup announcement.
Do you not realize how frustrating and annoying your store currently is? Do you think maybe a little extra effort on the customer service side of things might help? Here are a few more questions:
– Why is kitty litter no longer in the same aisle as the cat food?
– Why do you have munchies broken up into three different half aisles?
– Why is Newman’s salsa four aisles away from the tortilla chips and other salsas? (and why do you now have fewer flavors of Newman’s salsa? Where is the mild? It was my favorite. And I had a coupon.)
– Why are spices in a completely different aisle from baking supplies?
– Why are different varieties of frozen pizza in different aisles?
– Where the hell are the pancake mix packets? (I have yet to find them in three trips.)
And last but not least . . .
– Did you know they recently opened an Aldi’s in the neighborhood?
Life Preservers 