Closing the Circle on 42.

Well, it's the first anniversary of my little 42. blog, and I think it's a good time to close shop here.

I've got a decent number of entries for the year, and this blog is testament to the tremendous life changes I've created and/or experienced in the last year, including:

--relocating from my lifelong home of Nebraska to one of the Top 5 largest cities in the US

--quitting a job I worked at for 19 years and thought I would probably work at until I retired or they laid me off (more on that in a sec)

--realizing that I need to take control of my career, rather than assume a corporation is going to do so

--leaving immediate family as well as friends (some of whom I've had since high school) for a city where I knew no one, and finding out I can still make new friends, even in my 40s

--confirming my lifelong assumption that I truly did marry my best friend, and that we'll celebrate 20 years of this event in September 2013

--transitioning (over the last six years, though it was all part of a process) from an 1,800+ square foot house with two-car garage that we owned, to a two- bedroom apartment we rented in the downtown of an urban area (a huge transition in and of itself), to a one-bedroom apartment we rented in a major urban area, and realizing it's all for the better and what I really wanted all along but was afraid to say so

--getting rid of my car and ceasing to be a regular driver, for the first time in 28 years. It's been almost ten months since I last drove a car and I couldn't be happier!

--learning that it's not too late for a do-over, and that old (or middle-aged) dogs still can learn new tricks

--finding my voice, in more ways than one

The closing of this blog comes at a good time. I started a new job this week, as you know, and it is terrific so far (and amazing to me, if for no other reason than to prove to myself that I could do it). Also, I learned just yesterday that my former employer (parent company) has sold the life insurance subsidiary I used to work for, to a third party from the UK. As a result, many of my friends have lost/will be losing their jobs, and I am sad for them, but also happy for myself that I chose to separate from the company on my own terms.

(Not that I blame anyone who didn't handle it the way I did. It was generally a decent place to work and they made it easy to stay there. This is something all of us have seen before, on some level, and we knew/know it was/is always a possibility. I hope the company honors the severance packages it has traditionally offered in situations like this. My 20th anniversary with the company would have been in May, had I still been there, and while I would have enjoyed the Movado watch I was going to get, I promise you that I enjoy my new life outside of the company even more.There IS life after the "Hands" company, and it's good. You'll see. Best of luck to you all.)

Boycat just pee'd on the bed, which is also appropriate (or at least expected) in light of his recent circumstances. Sigh. It's always something.

But before I go, a couple more brief comments.

Keeping 42. for a year has helped me work through many issues in a way that only writing things down can do. Several years ago, Mr. 42's mom gifted us with a copy of an amazing book called Write It Down, Make It Happen by Henriette Klauser. She had read it and talked about the "proof" of it she had experienced in her life. Mr. 42 and I both read it and began putting it to work.

The author ascribes the power of it to a more "spiritual" influence than I probably would, being an atheist (or agnostic, depending on which day you ask me), but I have always been a firm believer in the power of the written (or typed) word. Many times I have observed that I and others can speak our truth through the written word in a way that we can't articulate verbally, even to people we love and trust. Sometimes it means we speak this truth only to ourselves, but often it is only to ourselves that it needs to be spoken to. That is the lesson I took away from Write it Down. If you want to believe that putting your intentions on paper sends them out into the universe (or to God, or to the Gods and Goddesses) in such a way that they simply must happen, I'm okay with that. As I said above, depending on what day you ask me, that might be the explanation I would give, too. Other days, it seems that writing things down (or typing them, even) helps YOU as the writer to clarify what you really want. It makes you focus on something in a way that helps it transition from being a pleasant, occasional passing thought ("Wouldn't it be nice if ...") to something you have thought about, written about, clarified, confirmed and are now making plans for.

Writing it down doesn't mean it will happen right away, or in exactly the way you had planned. This is how Philadelphia happened for us. We had our sights set on Boston, and life threw us a few curveballs that meant that wasn't going to happen when we wanted. What we didn't know at that time was that things wouldn't happen in Boston at all, but having lived here in Philly for ten months now, I am positive we ended up in the place where we were meant to live. (XOXO to Boston friends. Let's get together soon!)

What took place throughout that process (and for a good six months before we even began telling people of our plans): thoughts about what we wanted in a new city and how we wanted to live when we got here. Articulated on paper. Written down, more than once, across several notebooks and in two laptops. Refined and revised and reaffirmed, constantly.

Here in Philadelphia, a full 25 months after our notes about moving and starting a new and different life in a big city first began, I am here to tell you: it works!

Thanks to everyone who has followed this blog and taken time to comment or even just "like" on FB. I plan to take a short blogging break before beginning anew somewhere else (probably in Tumblr and in a completely different frame of mind).  Cheers!--Ms. 42

So Far, So Good

Things are going well so far at the new job. Granted, it's only my second day. People seem nice. The office is in a great location. Dress code at the new office is business casual, though everyone is dressed a little more formally than we interpreted business casual back in Nebraska. But it doesn't appear pantyhose are required with dresses and skirts (hooray) and I have enough "formal" business casual clothes to get by for a bit. I already have a blister from one of my new pairs of shoes. Go figure.

One of my favorite new blouses for work, which I love because it looks like a scarf!  :-) 

Things are a little stressful and overwhelming, as they would be with any new job, but it feels good to be back on track. It's only my third night of doing so, but getting up early and getting to bed at a decent hour, instead of keeping an erratic schedule, certainly has its merits. (Sadly, I had to skip an 80s karaoke night last night, since I now have to be up early. I do hope I'll be able to squeeze one in every few weeks or so. Monday nights are either totally fun tourist crowds, full of folks ready to party on a weeknight, or totally quiet nights with very few singers, which are also fun because I get to sing a whole bunch of songs and almost no one is there to hear when I'm lousy.)

My boss took me out for lunch on Monday to an Asian restaurant, and this was the fortune in my fortune cookie. Sexist language aside, it's highly applicable at this moment in time for all sorts of reasons.

(Also appropriate because we're in Philadelphia and this is a Benjamin Franklin quote.) 

I planned to begin walking to and/or from work for the new job, but the heat wave and humidity this week are holding me back. I don't want to have to wring the sweat out of my clothes at work (ha!) after walking in the morning, and the hottest part of the day is usually between 4:00 and 6:00, which is when I would be walking home. I am somewhat of a pansy in the heat, so I'm grateful for SEPTA. Things are supposed to cool off a little over the weekend. Hopefully I can start walking (a.k.a. built-in exercise) next week.

Boycat had another little cystitis flare-up on my first day, but he's still on the buspirone, so we're just making sure he gets plenty of water and waiting it out.  (We did give him a little bit of pain medicine last night, too, but he is already doing better and I don't think he'll need it tonight.) Am I kidding myself to believe my return to full-time work caused him anxiety? I know he loves me and misses me. I really hope I am not the cause of his suffering.

I have no doubt the days will soon begin flying by. Heck, they kind of flew by even when I wasn't working full-time and could spend my time how I chose. Only two days in, and it already feels like I've slid back into the weekday groove I had for 2011 and the first eight months of 2012. I had no idea our move would essentially be an unplanned "gap year," but since I didn't get to take one after graduating high school or college, it was nice to have one in my 40s.

So, yeah. Kinda boring but I know some of you wanted to know how it's going. It's going well, and most importantly, it's going!  :-)

My Last Day of Freedom

Today is my last (week) day of freedom. I return to work full-time on Monday, 7/15.

As excited as I am about the new job and about getting back into a regular routine, and in spite of the occasional stress of not having a full-time income since early September 2012, I'm feeling a bit sad today for the loss of my free time that will come next week.

All this past week, Mr. 42 and I have been doing fun stuff that we won't be able to do when I'm working full-time again:

Mr. 42 and a fresh pitcher of Pimms and Sunshine, National Mechanics

• Leisurely lunches at off hours that included beer
• Getting tipsy in the late afternoon before Happy Hour even starts 
• Two karaoke nights
• Our first trip to the King of Prussia Mall, which is America's largest shopping center. It ended up being a seven-hour ordeal for which we had little to show but a couple of shirts from a clearance rack. Three of those seven hours were spent on buses to get there and back. The mall was huge but just a typical mall, which means 85% of the stores are ones I'll never set foot in--clothes for kids and teens, baby goods, home furnishings and decor that are not my style, etc. Another 2% were large department stores, all of which had many of the same things. The other 13% were stores that we have here in Center City within walking distance. Neither of us see any need to revisit the KOP anytime soon. (If we can't find something here in Center City, it probably means we don't need it.)
• Boring but important errands I ran on weekday mornings and afternoons that can suck up entire weekends, like getting haircuts, going to the drugstore, grocery shopping, etc. 

Still on tap: a weekday movie matinee today; walking up to my new office in order to time the walk and see what interesting shops and restaurants are in the area; painting or crafting of some kind.

I wouldn't say I've made particularly good use of my time off. I didn't complete any major projects people always say they will do, like writing a novel. I didn't establish a regular exercise routine. My apartment is not organized from top to bottom nor free of any specks of dust. 

A series of miniature paintings I completed in June

I haven't entirely wasted that time, either. I got some arts and crafts done that were very satisfying. I did lots of writing, both here and for my freelance job. I read some great books and saw some amazing movies. I went to some concerts that were fantastic. I learned how to code in HTML, as opposed to just not goofing up the existing code. I learned basic Javascript and Prezi. I explored my new city and learned how to get around in it, on foot, by train and by bus. I have new favorite restaurants, bars and museums I will visit again and again. I met lots of people and made some new friends. I spent a lot of time thinking about what I want and don't want in my life.

One of the best books I've read in a while

A Prezi I created as a demo for potential employers

To be honest, there was not as much "leisure time" in there as I expected. Hunting for a job really is a full-time job. Some online job applications take an hour or more to complete, even if you already have all your past job info, salary history and reference contact info lined up. Phone interviews and face-to-face interviews require a great deal of preparation. Plus, I still had (and will have) my part-time/freelance job, seven days a week.  

In this last month and a half, I was just getting to the point that most people probably won't see until retirement (and maybe not even then), where time itself was becoming meaningless. I was waking and sleeping when I felt like it, eating when I wanted to and giving my days only the loosest of structure. I would think a lot of time had passed and discover only 30 minutes had passed. I would think it was still early in the afternoon and discover it was somehow 4:00 PM already. I remember my late MIL could never recall what day it was, not due to dementia or absent-mindedness, but because her days had no structure after she retired and she stopped looking at the calendar. Birthdays and holidays went by and she didn't always realize it, so they were celebrated (or not) when they were remembered. I am unsure how much longer it would have taken me to get to that point, and whether or not that would be a good way to live. 

Overall, I'm calling the time between September 2012 and mid-July 2013 a brief period of semi-retirement, filled with fun and adventure and a little anxiety. It looked a lot like my own parents' retirement has looked so far. To some degree, I regret not spending that time more wisely, but I realize, too, that it was a luxury I probably won't get to enjoy again for a long time. It has definitely taught me the value of time as I go forward. 

Time to take a nap before we catch that movie. 

I Saw It In Philadelphia: Cryptic Arthouse Cinema Graffiti

Not entirely sure what this means, but it was cool nonetheless. 

Graffiti on a construction scaffold, 7th and Chestnut. 

Uniforms and Dress Codes

Although this isn't a "My Favorite Things" post, let me state right off: I love uniforms. Military uniforms, police uniforms, nurse's and doctor's scrubs, UPS delivery person outfits, etc. I think school uniforms in particular are a great idea. Most of the schools here in Philly have a uniform of some kind, including the public schools, usually khakis and a polo or tee in school colors. School uniforms seem like a great equalizer, given the cliquishness, snobbery and, in larger urban areas, gang or neighborhood affiliation concerns that spring up around clothing for kids.

Choosing one's daily clothing can be a fun expression of creativity and individuality. It can also be a huge pain in the butt that wastes time and money and breeds insecurity, especially for women in the business world.

I worked at my old employer long enough to see its dress code transition from business formal to business casual to just plain casual, with most people at any given time not knowing exactly how they should dress. In the past we had such ridiculous dress code rules that required pantyhose (hated 'em!) for any skirt or dress shorter than bottom of the knee; forbade skirts shorter than a certain length above the knee; required ties for men (even in entry-level positions that didn't deal with the public); allowed skorts and "business shorts" so long as pantyhose were worn, then outlawed them a couple years later; required capri pants to be no shorter than mid-calf, etc.

Never again! 

Too much of everyone's time at work was spent reading the ever-changing dress code, determining if our own clothing adhered to it, monitoring the clothing choices of others and either reporting violations to their manager or having a conversation with them, if they were my employees.

Business formal appropriate footwear? I didn't think so. 

I also spent too much time and money purchasing appropriate clothes for the shifting dress codes and my own increasing responsibilities that required a more professional image. I bought as few suits and business-y dresses as I could get by with, and bought them as cheaply as I could. In my 20s, I sometimes used my work clothes as my "going out" clothes on weekends, when I couldn't afford to have a separate wardrobe just for off-duty wear. By the time the office dress code had relaxed to completely casual dress, I owned just two pairs of jeans, and was so much more comfortable wearing things other than jeans that I continued to do so most days.

Some people have a personal "uniform" they wear each day. Mr. 42 figured his out years ago, and it has greatly simplified his shopping and wardrobe storage needs. It basically consists of pants (jeans or flat-front khakis) and polo shirts (solid colors only, preference for no logo or not bigger than small pony/alligator, with pocket). In the summer, pants give way to shorts, also flat-front khakis. In the winter, polo shirts give way to solid-colored V-neck sweaters. 95% of the items in his wardrobe fall into those four categories. (He has a nice suit plus a few dress shirts and ties for the rare occasions that demand it, as well as a couple sports coats and a few items of clothing for specific needs like work-outs).

George Clooney modeling Mr. 42's uniform

End result: he is dressed and ready to go, looks polished, spends minimal time thinking about it each day and minimal time when shopping for new clothing. If a new polo gets bought, an old polo gets donated to the thrift store or thrown away if it's beyond usefulness. Same with pants.

I am SO jealous of this, and at the same time, I know it would never work for me. I really look awful in polo shirts. I also have a hard time finding jeans and pants that fit the way I want them to.

Totally my kind of outfit, from Soft Surroundings

I have developed a preference for loose, flowy palazzo pants and wide-leg styles that really don't go with polos. However, they do look great with the tunics and longer, looser tops I have also come to prefer. I like to wear blazers and cardigans, too, and I'm trying to figure out how to pull all this together into some kind of "uniform" for the dress code at my new job, about which I'm still unsure if it's officially business formal or business casual (not to mention how those terms are interpreted here in Philly). In other words ... plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

Do you have a uniform, formal or informal, that you wear most days?

The Ends Get Moved Further Apart

Boycat has been struggling with feline idiopathic cystitis since early May. We've already done two rounds of antibiotics, pain-killers each time he flared up, and a full six weeks of buspirone.

He finished the last of his meds on Tuesday. All seemed like it was going well. On Friday morning, he started peeing only tiny amounts and licking himself again. Soon he was peeing outside his box.

We had a refill available for the buspirone and started him on that again Friday evening. He was in such obvious pain this morning and wouldn't/couldn't pee, so we made a flying visit to the emergency vet hospital to get him checked out.

Three hours and $182 later, he is home for the weekend with painkillers, anti-spasmodics and Cosequin. He doesn't have a blockage, and they gave him some subcutaneous fluids that helped him have a couple excellent big peeings. He's doing better now thanks to the fluids and his meds, but we have to go back to our regular vet early next week for a more complete work-up: x-rays, possible urine culture, etc. which means $$$$.

Sigh.

There is never a good time for these things to happen, but weekends are of course the worst (though I feel lucky and grateful that we have emergency vet services available). And for this to happen while I'm employed only part-time with not a lot of spare dough is of course not ideal, either. I just got a small "summer vacation" bonus from the website I write for, and I know now it's not going to be spent on something fun like a summer vacation.

But ... Boycat is family. I wouldn't consider NOT seeking treatment for him, even if I couldn't pay for it. I am grateful to have services available and to have money to pay for them, even if it means I'll be pretty broke in July. At least we got to come home with our cat and with medicines that will help make him more comfortable while we figure out if there is something behind all this. (As frustrating as it is, I do hope it is truly "idiopathic" and not something scarier like a tumor.)

There were several other folks there that were much worse off: a young couple whose dog had been attacked by a pit bull; a young woman whose cat has something similar to Boycat but who had to be admitted to the hospital for treatment and monitoring; an older couple who left the exam room crying, and without their pet. I'll take my big vet bill vs. not being able to bring my pet home, for whatever reason.

Update 7/7/2013: Boycat went for x-rays and a more complete work-up a couple days ago and they found nothing. It is truly feline idiopathic cystitis at this point. We're finishing up the meds from the most recent incident, and we're going to keep him on buspirone for a few months. We were advised to add additional water to his wet food, and were told to consider a type of wet food made specifically for cats with urinary tract problems if he has another flare up. Right now, we're relieved to find it's nothing serious, and we'll continue meds and watchful waiting, hoping for the best. 

My Little Town

Been feeling nostalgic today. The day of the week I am most likely to go nostalgia-tripping through old photos and old music or do some webstalking of old classmates is always Sunday, for some reason.

I grew up in a little town that I hated, but it's been on my mind lately.

We moved from Lincoln, NE, where I lived from infancy until age 3, to this little town for my father's career. (We almost ended up in an even smaller town, but my mother had grown up in a small town similar to the one being considered and told my father she couldn't do that to her kids. Thank you, Mom!)

I wasn't aware of how small the town was, and what that really meant, until I was ten or eleven. Places that were bigger just seemed ... bigger, but the same, like with more stuff to do, but to a kid, it was just the same kinds of stuff and more people.

My sister and I walking home from the town library

By junior high, the town and I had declared silent war on each other. I went from being unaware of my town's size to being too aware of its size, hating it for its size and wishing I was somewhere else, and expressing this outwardly with my attitude and behavior and mode of dress. (And finding a few other like-minded individuals who felt the same way.)

Which is not to say I was some kind of juvenile delinquent. I did this in a very white, middle-class way, of course. I dressed strangely and took every opportunity to assert my individual style and specify my (superior, of course) pop culture preferences. If I wasn't going to be accepted and appreciated, I wasn't going to bother trying to fit in anymore.

I was, however, always a good kid. I didn't drink or smoke in high school (not that I had many opportunities, since I never got invited to the parties). I even used my good behavior, along with being smart and getting good grades in school, as a form of rebellion, to show them they were all "beneath me," and also because it meant that someday I would have a means of getting out of there. (I recognize now that my attitude was sometimes snotty and likely had at least a little something to do with the way people treated me.)

It was probably in my blood as well. My family were considered strange in the town. My parents were intensely private, with just a small circle of friends. Until I was well into my 30s, they lived in the same old house they had bought when they were poor as church mice, my father fresh out of law school with a wife and two kids already and hardly a pot to piss in. Long after they could have afforded better, they stayed in that same old house and continued driving their same old cars. (They did eventually remodel the home and my father got a wild hair when he turned 40 and bought a flashy Cadillac.) The town was small but had its "preferred suburb" area and social clubs to which the upwardly mobile belonged, all of which my parents rejected. My parents never joined a church (or even attended any).

(Yes, I've turned out a lot like them.)

So ... what's so terrible about my hometown?

Nothing.

Main Street

It is a typical small town in a Midwestern state. Its residents are traditional and church-going, socially and politically conservative. Its community is not diverse. It is hours away from even a medium-sized city like Lincoln. It doesn't offer much for young people to do--a movie theater and cruising the main drag are the primary teen pastimes. Its teens end up drinking at house parties or out in the country, and having sex at a young age, due to lack of any better options. Older adults still see movies and drink (but in bars), plus go boating, fishing and hunting for fun. The town has developed a huge meth problem since the 1990s. Its population has declined steadily since the 1970s, as it doesn't offer many career opportunities or decent-paying jobs that would keep young people around or attract new residents.

It's neither good nor bad. I realize that now. It just wasn't what I was looking for. I don't think I knew what I was looking for, really, until I was in my 30s, but I certainly knew what I wasn't looking for: a town like my hometown.

My sister and brother-in-law and nephew still live near there. They like the small-town atmosphere and feel most comfortable there. My nephew is in college but it won't surprise me if he returns there after school, or moves to a new town that is similar in size and demographics. They obviously want something different than I want and they enjoy the pace of rural life.

I haven't actually been back there since 2005, when my father retired and a small celebration was held (and he left the next day, to join my mom in the new house they had purchased several months before, in a bigger city). During the last five years, my niece and nephew even graduated from their small rural high school that is near there, and I attended but stayed at a hotel in a bigger city a little further away, just to avoid my hometown.

And yet, now that I don't live in Nebraska anymore and probably won't visit again until there's a wedding or a funeral, I find myself looking at the hometown newspaper website more often.  I did an earlier entry about learning my high school boyfriend's dad and my old babysitter had passed away, but the obituaries are not the only section of the town's newspaper that I read. Old family friends celebrated a 54th wedding anniversary and I saw the announcement in the paper and sent a card. I occasionally recognize a classmate or one of their children in a news story, but there are many names I don't know.

I miss the crappy old drive-in/restaurant that still has customers place their order via individual telephone handsets at each table. I've been craving the jiffy burgers a "rival" drive-in used to sell, and for which I have the coveted special secret recipe.

A friend posted Facebook photos of her visit a small town that still has a drive-in movie theater, and I remembered my town had one, too, until 1980ish? My mom worked there briefly when I was a kid. I saw Superman and Star Wars there, among other films.

A new friend who is a Montessori teacher got me thinking about my old elementary school, which took advantage of an unconventional classroom layout and created an unconventional (but very successful) teaching model. (In googling to see if there were any images, I learned that it was sold to a private investor and is being developed for mixed use business/upscale housing.)

Watching Freaks and Geeks again on Netflix reminded me of my 9th grade art teacher, who looked like the guidance counselor on the show.

So ... yeah. It doesn't define who I am, but that little Nebraska town is part of me. Simon and Garfunkel already said it better than I could, so I'll let them close this entry.

My Favorite Things: Artist Trading Cards (ATCs)

When I first began exploring art again in my late 30s, I was short on materials and unwilling to spend a lot for supplies on what I was not certain would be anything but a passing interest. I found myself wasting a lot of paint and paper as I attempted to learn new techniques and improve my skills. The truly "failed" art would wind up in the trash, and after several expensive "lessons" of this variety, I decided to scale down in my projects in an attempt to preserve supplies and save money.

I was familiar with Artist Trading Cards (ATCs) and also ACEOs from my time on Etsy.com. I bought a beautiful set of ACEOs from one artist, and it got me thinking about what I was trying to accomplish.

For those not familiar with ATCs (which are also a popular format with scrapbookers in addition to artists), they are essentially miniature works of art roughly the size of a baseball card or playing card (which some artists even use as their "canvas"), done in just about any medium, designed to be traded and collected among artists. Some artists have also commercialized this concept with the creation of Art Cards Editions and Originals (ACEOs), which are just ATCs that have a price tag on them. Wikipedia has a great entry that gives some background on the history and philosophy of ATCs and ACEOs and I'll let those who are interested read more over there.

As it turned out, the small size of ATCs were a great format for beginner artists. I was mainly doing watercolors at the time, and with the help of a set of miniature brushes, I was able to create very fine details, even with my rudimentary skills. I began experimenting with other techniques like pen and ink, collaging of two paintings on a single card, and with a synthetic type of paper called Yupo. Yupo is still one of my favorite materials, because it's basically a thin sheet of plastic that doesn't absorb the paint, which makes for some interesting effects as the paint dries. Plus if I really screwed up, I just gave it a quick rinse in the sink and started over. No waste, no worry.

I joined a Yahoo group of active ATC makers and traders and did a few swaps with other folks around the country. Some of my favorite ATCs that I created are actually no longer in my possession, as I've swapped them for cool ATCs by other folks. Here are a few I did that I really liked (click on any image for a larger view--remember, these are actually quite small in real life):

"Golden Orb," watercolor on Yupo, traded

Untitled, inspired by Klimt, watercolor on paper, traded (this one took
three hours to make with tiny micro-brushes)

"Lila and Lou," watercolor and ink on Yupo, traded

"The Dreamers of the Dreams," watercolor and ink on paper

"The Passengers," watercolor and ink on Yupo

"There it Goes," watercolor and ink on Yupo, traded
(the background here is a good example of some of the interesting
effects Yupo can produce)

"What They Saw," watercolor and ink on Yupo

I will also show you a few of the cards I received in trade (and one I purchased), all of which I treasure:

Clockwise starting from the top: "October Kitties," digital ATC by Cynthia Peck; "Daydreaming," mixed media ACEO, artist's name illegible; "Squidlicious," mixed media ATC by Melody Hansen-Herman; "Ornate 002" pen and marker ATC by Marissa Childers; "Seven-Day Forecast" mixed media ATC by Carolyn Dickson

Want to learn more or give it a try yourself?  First, know that you do not have to paint or draw to be able to make amazing cards. Collaging, stamping, sewing, cut/paste/glue, printing of digital images you Photoshopped and manipulated, etc. are all allowable and make for some amazing cards. Do a Google image search or visit Flickr for more ideas, plus here's a Wikihow that will help you get started. There's also a great book called Artist Trading Card Workshop by Bernie Berlin that is full of creative and cool projects you can try on your own. ATCs are also lots of fun for children, if you are looking for an art/craft projects for the kids in your life.

If any of you get started making your own cards and wanna swap, let me know.  :-)

Karaoke is Okey-Dokey

Actually, I think it's more than okey-dokey, but I realize it's not everyone's bag.   :-)  I had no idea it was going to become my bag, but sure enough, Ms. 42's got a brand new bag and yes, it is karaoke.

My first karaoke experience was in 1999 at a corporate retreat. A large part of the discussion that week centered on putting yourself out there, taking risks, etc., so the last night of the event involved a dance/karaoke party. I had never done karaoke before but sang with a group of girls for my first song (and I can't remember what song we sang). After a couple more beers, I sang a duet of "Killing Me Softly"--the Roberta Flack version.

I really didn't think about it for the next 13 years. Occasionally we would happen upon a bar or restaurant that was having a karaoke night, but I never sang and we usually didn't stay long.

Karaoke was apparently looking for me, though.

I found out someone close to me was a big karaoke fan. I have never heard her sing, but she is certainly a very enthusiastic karaoke participant, which usually counts for more than vocal ability. Check out this video where she goes a little overboard on "Greased Lightning" and accidentally punches out her friend.

I soon learned I had some more closeted karaoke-lovin' friends back in Nebraska, and we finished up the night of our going-away party at a karaoke bar, where I sang another duet, "These Boots Are Made for Walkin.'" My friend who sang with me said she couldn't hear me at all, and she probably couldn't (I didn't know how to properly sing into the microphone), but probably no one else could hear us either. That particular bar was a good place to cut my karaoke teeth again, because it had no stage and was a very crowded, very noisy and very indifferent bar full of heavy drinkers, most of whom could not see/hear the singers and weren't paying attention anyway.

Fast forward to a Sunday in October 2012. We hadn't been in town long, and after a movie, we were looking for a late dinner and beers at a pub close to home. We didn't realize it was karaoke night at the pub, but we had so much fun watching the singers that we stayed and cheered and clapped for everybody. I met a new friend that night who encouraged me to sing.

That following week, I did.

First song: "LA Woman" by the Doors. And it wasn't bad. I wasn't a great singer, but I was an okay singer. And ... the whole thing was surprisingly non-scary! You don't have time to be scared when you're so worried about keeping up with the lyrics, staying on tempo and trying to sing on key as much as possible!

I was hooked.

Soon I was singing two songs a night. We started staying a little longer and I would sometimes squeeze in a third before we called it a night. We made some friends at our regular neighborhood Sunday karaoke venue who were quite serious about their karaoke (though some of them were not necessarily good singers) and who went to 3 or 4 different bars a week just to sing. We tried some other places on different nights, and eventually found a bar/karaoke DJ/crowd that felt the most comfortable. It has a small stage, which does make a difference. I feel much more like I am "performing" if there is a stage, and I think people pay a bit more attention, too.

We have met some more new friends through karaoke, too, with whom we share a few other interests besides karaoke, which is a cool thing.

I hadn't really done any singing since a brief stint in 8th grade choir, but thanks to karaoke nights I am improving as a singer. My breath control is getting better--I can sing quite loud and sustain a note for a long time. I started out singing songs originally performed by men and was most comfortable in the lower end of my range for awhile, but I am singing more "girl" songs now and exploring songs that require higher notes and/or a little more vocal ability.

I was doing "Sweet Transvestite" from Rocky Horror Show when this photo was taken.
[Boom, chick-a-boom, chick-a-boom!] (I know some of you will know what that means.)

I do not always sing on key.  Fortunately, that's not a requirement for karaoke.  :-)

Like they have said on "American Idol," (which I haven't watched since the season with Ruben and Clay, for the record), song selection is super important. I know almost instantly when I have chosen the wrong song and it's usually a dismal failure. But ... so what? It's just karaoke. I'll also sing with anybody, and anybody is welcome to sing with me. (Last week I even tried to make a couple guys sing with me and held the mic too close to the speakers, resulting in awful squeals of feedback. Oops! I'm a dork!)  I didn't know the gentleman in the picture below--he was never at the bar before that night and I haven't seen him since. He was a very good singer, and after singing several Beatles songs that night he asked me to duet with him on "I Got You Babe" by Sonny and Cher. It was super fun!

Some other totally cool things have happened at karaoke nights, too:

• A notable movie star--Tyler Mane from X-Men, the new Rob Zombie Halloween films, among others--came into one of the venues. He was premiering a film here and he and his entourage held their after-party in the upstairs room. I saw him come in but we had already left for the night when he came back downstairs and took pictures with a bunch of the singers. He is extremely tall, by the way.
• Two young guys sat next to us last week and acted a bit shy about singing, and then one of them went up there and freakin' nailed his song. Obviously a pro, which is not an uncommon thing here at karaoke nights, and he confessed: the two are performing in one of the Broadway shows that's playing here for the next few weeks. They were nice guys and we had a good time with them that night. I looked them up later and found out one of them has actually been in a production that was on Broadway and was also in a movie some of you may have seen called Across the Universe.

If you asked me a few months ago if I thought I would be doing this, I would have said no. I am now one of those nerdy peeps who keeps a list of potential karaoke songs on her phone. I have my favorite karaoke DJ's online song list stored as a favorite. I have not started putting actual karaoke songs on my phone or a thumb drive yet, but other people do this and I reserve the right to do so in the future.

I should acknowledge, too, that part of what made my karaoke mania possible is the fact that I have been looking for full-time work since our move. I don't have to be up early for a job at this time. I have decided to make the most of my temporary part-time employment and go to karaoke on "school nights" if I feel like it. I know the time will come when I am working full-time again and probably will have to restrict my karaoke activity to the weekends, which will be okay, too. In the meantime, I'm gonna have fun while there is fun to be had!

Props to Mr. 42, who will probably never sing at any of the karaoke nights ever but is my faithful companion. (He likes to drink beer, watch and listen to other people singing and strike up barstool conversations with anyone who is sitting next to him. These things make karaoke night a win-win for us.)

(Photos courtesy of Dr. Thunder Karaoke.)

Cat Pee and Other Cat Concerns

Some of you know that we had a pet emergency this week. Boycat started peeing blood on Thursday and the vet (whom we had never needed to see here in Philly, at least not yet) was kind enough to rush us right in.

The official diagnosis was Feline Idiopathic Cystitis, but lab tests showed multiple bacteria present as well, so he's on an antibiotic, a painkiller and because the problem appears to have been exacerbated by the noises of the ongoing construction (building-wide window replacement) taking place, an anti-anxiety pill for humans (and cats) called Buspar (buspirone).

I filled his Buspar prescription at Walgreen's. His bottle has his first and
last name, plus "The Cat." Cute.  :-) 

The painkillers are some tasty flavored chewable pills and he begs for those when I open the package.

He ate his antibiotic wrapped in turkey the first day, but apparently he's wise to us now. I got a Buspar down him using tuna and tuna water to disguise it, but we could not get him to take his antibiotic in food yesterday and had to resort to cat-pilling. Ugh. Such unpleasant (but very necessary) business. And since he's now attuned to the possible presence of pills in tuna, turkey, etc., it looks like we'll be doing it three times a day for a couple weeks. One of several videos I found helpful is below.

I just hope he starts feeling better soon. He was still peeing a bit of blood yesterday, and peeing only tiny amounts in spite of all the wet food, tuna water and bottled water he's been consuming. I never saw him lick his whizzer even once when he was healthy, but he's doing it all the time now, apparently 'cause it's in such pain. He's also leaving little pee spritzes in assorted non-appropriate locations around the house. (He never pee'd outside his box before, which would have been a sure sign of something wrong even without the bloody pee.)

Human friends, have you ever had cystitis/bladder infection/UTI? I remember being pretty miserable with it. You want to jump out of your skin, which is probably what Boycat has been feeling the last couple of days.

That being said, we have a list of household goods and clothing casualties that continues to grow. He pee'd on two pairs of my suede boots, both of which are probably not salvageable. Even if the bloody pee stains come out, the aroma probably will not. I do not want to be the person who causes everyone to ask, "Do you smell cat pee?" when I walk by in a pair of these boots. He also pee'd on (and in) my rainboots, so they're goners, as well as a pair of Mr. 42's flip-flops. A couple shirts and an afghan also got hit and will be taking a turn through the washer in the near future. I have newspapers down at the particular spot on the carpet that he's taken to spritzing. The smell of cat pee in our small apartment is pretty unpleasant and we're probably not done with the sprayings yet.  Nature's Miracle is on its way from Amazon.com as we speak.

To avoid future recurrences, the vet recommend we transition him to an all wet-food diet, so we're going to transition both cats at the same time. They already get periodic wet food as a treat and they like it, but both are very attached to their fancy-pants grain-free dry cat food. (Which I had just bought a big bag of, too. Damn the luck.)

On a brighter note, our new window installation was completed yesterday (hooray!) so Boycat's immediate perceived threats from strange noises and strange people are greatly diminished. He and Girlcat LOVE sitting in the new windows. We love the windows, too, since the old ones were almost completely rotten and we had to put plastic up in the winter due to the drafts. Plus they open all the way up, which is helping with the cat pee smell.

Bonus shot of Girlcat, just 'cause she's so pretty and hardly ever sits still for pictures:

My Favorite Things: The Tek Bracelet

This is my most-worn piece of jewelry after my wedding ring, which makes it one of My Favorite Things. I call it the Tek Bracelet.

"Tek" is short for Tekla, and Tekla was Tekla Allen, a family friend since I was a child. She was always called Tek for as long as I knew her, which I found strange as a child, though I found the fact that it was a nickname for "Tekla" even stranger. Tekla was one of those names like Opal and Edna and Ethel that children of the 1970s would encounter only on grandmothers and great aunts.

Tek is from the small town where I grew up, and she was an amazing woman. She married well, to a local pharmacist who also owned his drugstore which, incredibly, still had an operating lunch counter through the early 1980s. (I assure you it was quaint even back then.) They had a nice 1950s-era ranch home filled with original mid-century modern furnishings. Antiques at that time still trended toward the Victorian and the Depression eras. The nice Danish modern stuff Tek had was considered too recent and unfashionable in the late 1970s when she became a widow and sold the house and much of its furnishings to move into a senior apartment complex. I'm sure a lot of it went for a steal and oh, how people including my parents would pay through the nose for that stuff today!

I met Tek when she was still incredibly spry for a woman in her 60s--one whose mother was still alive, living independently in her late 80s and almost equally spry. Tek still dressed to the nines, wearing little heels and stockings, with scores of handbags and incredible jewelry. Lots of chunky bracelets, big bead strands and pendants and fancy clip-on earrings. I saw pictures of Tek from the 1950s, doing upper-middle-class housewife-ly things like shopping downtown and attending charity social events. She was always wearing fox pieces, little hats and white gloves.  Style was important to her and seemed to come naturally to her.

She gave birth to one son who was also a friend of my parents (and much closer to their age), which is how we all met Tek. The son died young--at just 42--of MS, but Tek was such a neat lady that her daughter-in-law would continue to take care of her for the rest of her life, even though they were no longer related and even after she had married a second husband. Tek moved to live near them when she got older and eventually moved in with them when she was in her 80s.

By chance, her death happened just a few days before I had planned a visit home. I lived hours away by that time and I don't know if I would have driven home to attend the funeral, but I was happy it worked out that I could attend. My mom was helping the ex-daughter-in-law clear out some of Tek's things after her death, and the woman sent home with her a big bag of costume jewelry from one of Tek's many jewelry boxes.

We each picked a few pieces and wore them to Tek's funeral the next day, to honor her. The Tek Bracelet is one of the pieces I chose.

I wore it (and still wear it) often and it always brings complements. It goes with any outfit and adds a touch of class to even t-shirts and jeans. The bracelet is not a precious metal and appears to be stainless steel. It has no brand markings on it but is probably something like Sarah Coventry or Avon or something that would have been sold at the local department store. It has a spring hinge and is actually a little snug on me since I gained weight, though it still fits. It would probably fit as an armband on a skinny-armed person. I like the design so much I considered getting an armband tattoo of it at one point.

My mom saw how often I wore it and when she later found a yellow gold-toned equivalent at a garage sale, she bought it for me.

I like and wear both pieces, though I don't wear yellow gold jewelry very often.  And of course, the yellow gold-toned bracelet is not the Tek Bracelet, so it's less special.

If You Come to Philadelphia ...

If you come to Philadelphia, I promise we'll have a great time!

Come now (or soon) if you want to have more of my time available during your visit.

Come after I get a job if you want us to have more spending money to go and do things. (Mr. 42 will likely still be available to meet your plane or pick you up at your hotel and take you around during the day).

I suggest an itinerary that includes a "First Friday" (i.e. the first Friday of a new month) as there are tons of fun and free or inexpensive things to do on those weekends:  Art crawl. Gallery walk. Bands. Drinks. Food.

Some awesome things are always free:  the Liberty Bell and Independence Park, for example. People-watching on South Street. The Edgar Allan Poe House. Elfreth's Alley. Reading Terminal. Love Park. Penn's Landing.

Penn's Landing, Sculpture

View of the Ben Franklin Bridge from Penn's Landing

South Street funkiness

Mosaics on South Street

Some other cool things don't cost much and are worth the small amount they do cost:  Philadelphia Art Museum (complete with Rocky statue); Philadelphia African American Museum (The Supremes exhibit is here through June); The Franklin Institute; The Constitution Center.

If you want to shop, we're within walking distance of H & M, Macy's, Lush, Sephora, Buffalo Trading, Marshall's, Ross, two malls, trendy little boutiques in Old City, big designer stores in Rittenhouse, funky head shops and bookstores and XXX-product stores on South Street. We'll ride the subway somewhere just to give you the experience, or maybe to visit destinations a little further away. If you want to do serious shopping, we can ride the train and bus to great big ol' King of Prussia Mall, but honestly, if we're going to ride trains and buses for 90 minutes (yes, it really takes that long to get there by train and bus), why don't we ride them to New York City instead?  Trains are $24 to $40 and get there in 1 hr 15 minutes, or the Yo! Bus is $12 and takes 2 hrs.

We know tons of great places to eat. Including vegetarian. Including cheesesteaks. Including cheap (we just found a fabulous Indian place today that sells their food for $4.95 a pound). Including places with cool decor and moderate pricing. Including fancy-pants restaurants and high dollar menus if that's your game.

We live around the corner from a great dive bar and five decent restaurants that cover five ethnic cuisines and every price point. We're also just 4-5 blocks from two really good restaurant/bar districts.

If you want to sing karaoke with me (or just watch me sing), there are fun places to go every night, esp. Sundays, Mondays, Tuesdays and Saturdays. All are within walking distance.

You can stay with us if you don't mind a sofa (or an airbed if there are two of you coming) and don't mind one or two cats trying to sleep with you. If you want a hotel room, there are four within walking distance of us (big city prices, sorry) or we can Priceline and try to get a better deal, though it may be a little further away.  We don't mind walking or riding the subway to get to you, and cabs are plentiful and cheap here in Philly.

Who among you will be the first to visit us? Mr. 42 and I have placed our bets. Prove me wrong, or prove me right! Hope to see you soon!

The Circle of Life

I have been haunted all weekend by some sad news I received on Friday--the deaths of two people.

First off: the father of my high school boyfriend passed away. He was a photographer by trade and was also the guy who took my senior pictures. I haven't been in touch with the ex-boyfriend or his family in more than 20 years, but it's always sad to hear about the death of someone you knew. He was 68--a little on the young side nowadays, but he lived a good full life: two marriages; children, step-children and grand-children; assorted careers and fulfilling work.

The second one is the one I can't get out of my head. I doubt if any of you who read this blog knew her so I'll go ahead and include her first name--Courtney--as well as pictures and some other sad details I found.

To begin, this is a senior pic of Courtney, from 1982 or 1983.

I don't think this picture fully shows how beautiful she was, but you can see here that she was a pretty girl with creamy golden skin and a great smile. Her family lived down the block from my family back in our hometown. She was six years older than me, and had a little sister who was a year younger than me. I first met her when I was six or seven, and she soon became a favorite babysitter of me and my sister. 

Courtney was the cool babysitter who would bring her record collection with her when she came, or would sit and listen to our 45's and K-tel records with us all night and compliment our taste in music: "Oh, Tom Petty. 'Don't Do Me Like That' is my favorite song right now." She had waist-length hair in that beautiful kinky/curly 70s style and wore glittery and gauzy flowing blouses with her jeans and clogs. She taught us how to make snow ice cream. If she brought her little sister along when she babysat (which she often did), we would hold beauty pageants and make Courtney and any of her friends or boys who sometimes visited  be the pageant's judges. I remember a particular pageant that resulted in a three-way tie, so Courtney made me, my sister and her sister have a "dance-off" to "Shake Your Groove Thing" by Peaches and Herb to decide the winner. (I think her little sister won that one.)

She once babysat us during a horrible storm (maybe even a tornado?) that knocked the power out in the whole town, felled trees and peeled paint off houses and shingles off rooftops. Somehow she kept three scared little girls calm and quiet in the dark until our parents could make it home hours later. One of her methods involved the telling of ghost stories and an edited-for-kids re-telling of the plot of the movie "Halloween."

There were hints of trouble even then. Courtney would smoke my parents cigarettes (or bring her own) when she babysat. She was probably 13 or 14 at the time. I seem to remember some alcohol, too, from her parents' liquor cabinet or beers from my parents fridge, but that may not be accurate. For a short time, she was having some trouble with some kids in high school, and Courtney's mom started sending the little sister to stay at my parents' house after school, until she could pick her up after work. Courtney left town shortly after graduation, and one evening, her mom came to see my dad (a lawyer at the time) because Courtney had been arrested and was in jail out in Denver, the first of what would be a string of troubles across her lifetime. She was sent to Valley Hope (a drug and alcohol recovery center) not long after that. I saw her for the last time a few years later, and she still looked like the Courtney I remembered.

Flash forward to this.

Yes, this is Courtney. This is her mugshot from an arrest last November, in which she is alleged to have stolen enough goods to constitute a Class 3 Felony in Nebraska (this was no small theft). Since this wasn't her first arrest, she was likely looking at some prison time and/or a big fine

This week, she died "in her home," according to the obituary. I don't know what happened for sure, but I'm guessing she either killed herself, or the lifelong drug and alcohol problem led to an early death.  

It's hard for me to reconcile the pretty young woman I remember (like the first picture) with the more recent photo and news of Courtney. I don't know what prompted her early downward spiral. When she was a young teen, her parents went through a messy divorce that was very hard on the kids, but I think her difficulties were happening before that. I can see from her obituary that she must have had some good times, too--she went to business school, had children and even grandchildren and worked for her father for a short time. 

Did I mention she was only 48?

RIP, Courtney.

I Saw It in Philadelphia: A Pig at the Pizza Parlor

Yes, it's a pig in a baby carriage. 

Dogs are not uncommon inside Philadelphia restaurants and coffee shops.  Many of the coffee shops actually keep dog biscuits at the counter for their canine visistors. There was a dog inside my hairstylist's studio one day, and we even saw a big dog inside Macy's once (he was on his way out as he and his owner had been asked to leave). 

This is the first pig I have seen inside a commercial establishment anywhere.

You can't see it, but it was a twin stroller and there was a (human) baby in the front seat, too. The nice woman who had the child and pig said she was pig-sitting for a friend and wasn't sure what kind of pig he actually was. 

This handsome little guy was named Scrappy, and we encountered him in a pizza parlor on South Street. He was adorable, if a bit shy.

Needless to say, we chose a veggie pizza for lunch after our encounter with Scrappy.  

Random Updates. Really Random.

The Stuff We Lost In the Move

One of our missing moving boxes from the move has been found, or some of it, anyway. It DOESN'T appear to be the box with the photos, but we're waiting for a little more info. If it's the clothes and shoes, we have already replaced 'em and don't have room to store much extra, so we probably won't worry about getting it back. From what we know so far, it's a partially-full box only, which means someone probably picked through it and took whatever they wanted already.

The Job Hunt

Still hunting for a job and trying not to panic. Still have a little time, too, before I have to panic, but not much. I didn't start job hunting until the end of October, due to the move trauma and needing some time to get settled, so I've only been at it four months, but still. Ugh. My daily routine nowadays consists of going through all the job boards and LinkedIn each day to see if anything good has been posted, then going through the career sites of my "target" companies and seeing if they have anything new, or if I can find any new target companies to add to the list. I usually find two or three worth bookmarking or applying for every day, but not always. I keep hearing about how you're supposed to network, all these ridiculous bullshit guerilla job search tactics you can try (sending a package with a coffee mug AND your resume to the recruiter, etc.) and I just cringe. That is so not me. I also think how annoyed I would be as a recruiter or HR professional if people did that. Granted, HR pro's usually have a different personality and goals than I do. Maybe they truly are not annoyed by those tactics somehow. Or maybe those tactics work if you're in some creative field like Advertising, or you're in an industry that thrives on entrepreneurs, like a tech start-up. The financial services and insurance industries are notoriously conservative in many regards and I suspect they are in this one, too. I'm adding Philly contacts to LinkedIn as I can find them, but without working, I honestly haven't met that many folks here yet. My handful of karaoke friends are it, pretty much, BUT ...

Friends

... Two friends I have known for awhile just moved to Philadelphia this week. Yes!  :-)  One is an old friend from Lincoln, and the other is this person's sweetheart, whom I met for the first time in 2011. And you know the old shampoo commercial from the 1970s:  "They told two friends, and they told two friends, and so on, and so on, and so on ...?"  Umm, no details I can share yet but something like that is possibly in the works.  If nothing else, it is nice to have a few more friends here.

Coding and Networking

And in other professional developments: I have thoroughly ramped up on my HTML skills and am taking a class this weekend to learn JavaScript. I hope to make some new contacts there and meet a few other cool folks here in Philly. The coding knowledge couldn't hurt, either. I'm sure I won't know enough after that to get hired as a website developer (though I already know enough to be able to maintain some corporation's blog or update their website), but what I'm hoping is I'll learn enough to decide if I am interested in a change in career direction, and have an aptitude for it, which could prompt future educational choices, too.  I live very close to an ITT tech school if I want to get a certificate in something technical, plus there are all the other great colleges here (Drexel, Temple, Penn, etc.) if I want to pursue a Master's in something.

Complacency and You

Which brings me to another important point for everyone, but especially my friends and readers who still work where I used to work: don't get complacent.

Part of why it's taking so long for me to find a job out here is due to the high unemployment rate.  Philly, at 10.1%, is higher than the national average of 7.8%, and much higher than Nebraska's 3.7%.

Part of it, too, I have to accept responsibility for because I let myself get comfy in a job that I thought I'd probably work at for the rest of my life, and that was the wrong thing to do. We've all seen the firings and layoffs as jobs move overseas and lines of business get dropped.  There is no guarantee you'll have a job there in the future, and you don't want to wait until you get laid off to start preparing for your next job.

I didn't put much emphasis on my own development the last few years there, and I know many of you also are not doing this. I am thankful I already have a college degree, and I can't emphasize this enough: if you didn't finish your degree yet, make plans to get back in school as soon as you can, especially since the company offers tuition reimbursement. If you find yourself without a job, you'll be competing against many other people who are also looking for a job but who also have at least a Bachelor's Degree, and guess who won't make the cut? These days, employers want a Bachelor's even for non-skilled positions like being a receptionist at a dentist's office, for pete's sake! Check out a few job postings if you don't believe me.

For those of you with a degree already: step it up in other ways. Get that resume dusted off and ready to go. Build your network on LinkedIn if you haven't already. Get trained as a Six Sigma Green Belt or Black Belt. Start sitting in on technical meetings and learning project management. Learn Access and Brio and SAP Business Objects and any other technology you can get your hands on. Learn another branch of the business (Life, Annuities, Variable, etc.). Take any opportunity  you can get to learn something new at the company's expense, or even your own if you can afford it. (Wanna learn some programming skills? I do recommend Code Academy to start and it's absolutely free. Learn some basic HTML and you can start adding web parts to that lovely SharePoint site we used!)

Cute Cat Photos

Okay, I'll get off my soapbox. Umm ... how about some animal cuteness to lighten the mood here? Girlcat and Boycat say hello!