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Archive for April, 2009

Ever wonder?

Ever wonder

How much of the crap you read on the internet is just made up? I remember reading an essay by Erica Jong many years ago on creative writing and journaling, she said she lies to herself in her journals daily or something to that effect. That through her journals she is able to fulfill area in her life that might be lacking. God help Steven King!

As you all know, like the rest f us I am looking for work…..

 I have a handout that I did in a landmark class from my notes.  And be honest with yourself. It hurts less when you realize how deluded you have been about a situation.

Like Ma in Grapes of Wrath, trying to preserve face for a
starving family by sharing the evenings boiled dough. 
        
         “Now look, all you little fellas
          You each go and get a nice flat stick."
          
If the allusion is too arcane go watch the movie. It's about the great depression
and the socialist mentality that saved America and developed the 
Unique American ideas.

Hugs
Prue

Dennis Grendle lectured last fall at SMU and we did a Value Card sort. I encourage everyone caught reading this blog to take the time to sort your Values http://www.motivationalinterview.org/library/valuescardsort.pdf

just print them off and sort them. Run through the several times placing the values you hold in your hand in three separate piles.  NOT Very Important to me, Important  to me. Very Important to me

under each pick 20 values then set the remainder  of the cards away. Now focus on the twenty cards you find the most valuable to you, of these, pick ten as the top most important to you.

Now change the focus from what is it that you need from your job. A job should meet at least 5-10 healthy values. If it doesn’t then  look to your life to see how you get the rest of the ten most important of those values met.  Either in hobbies, extra activities, the things you do to reach self actualization. ( remember Maslow’s pyramid ?)   

 

What Possibility are you creating for yourself?

 

 

WHAT IS WORKING

 

 

WHAT IS NOT WORKING

 

 

AREA YOU ARE WORKING ON PROBABLE CERTAIN FUTURE

 

 

WHAT’S MISSING

 

 

INVENTING A NEW POSSIBILITY

 

 

THE POSSIBILITY I AM INVENTING FOR MYSELF IS THE POSSIBILITY OF BEING

 

 

 

 

Be

Do

Have

·         Prepared

·         Confident

·         Ready 

·         Open

·         Willing

·         Find jobs, which meet my qualifications, everyday.

·         Divide into subsets and track applications that I submit.

·         Prepare targeted resumes, cover letters and transcripts for each

·         Speak positively about past, and hopeful about future

Have a job that I am happy in with a healthy atmosphere, which will pay me more than I have ever made before  and the ability for advancement.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Buying a sofa doesn’t sound like a very emotional thing to be doing. For women well it’s better than buying a good pair of leather fashion boots at the beginning of the season, on sale, 7o% off.  Depending on the  brand…

Not today, I’ve spent twenty minutes in the shower bawling my eyes out over buying a sofa. Why? because, we are moving into a new place just on the next street over; Crescent St.  Why the trauma? It’s the third place we have lived in since my husband changed jobs in January. Leaving me to head up the rear moving from our dream home in Texas to the god-forsaken-north of Massachusetts.

First apartment was such a dump, dust fell from the ceiling when the heffalumps and Wossels upstairs walked. The gaps in the windows kept the ambient temperature at 50 degrees even with the thermostat at 90. So we paid the bloodsuckers 3,000.00 to break the lease and thanks to the generosity of  my husbands’ new job. We’re allowed to rent faculty housing for a year, until the deal changed and the incoming Dean bumped us out.  Not a problem.  I look forward to the new house. Hopefully, we will be able to get some roots. It’s been nerve-racking listening to the rumors and ignoring snipes from the community over our being in faculty housing. We’re not Faculty you see and by some therefore not worthy, even though we pay rent and they don’t.  Every few days I’d hear a different story.  You can be there six months or you shouldn’t be there at all, no, it’s okay you can stay for a year. Drove me nuts!

Don’t get me wrong! I am more than greatful for the housing, it was a god send and I hope helped us both out by getting some income from the property for the scool. Until they could hire a new Dean.

We have an unseen guest in our School St house. Everyone knew about it and after a few weeks of door handles opening and slamming shut we found out too. We nicknamed him “Phantom Dennis” I knew something was up when I heard stomping in the Attic (then found out we don’t have one, it’s been turned into the upstairs bed room) The next day Russ let me know we’d been bumped. “Phantom Dennis already told me” I said.  Then a few days later we had more slamming, until I told PH.D, (phantom Dennis)that we had to move and it wasn’t my idea, but he could come with us.  The slamming stopped; the only other weird thing is we watched the dog be scooted across the floor for about 3 feet. Misty yelping in protest and trying to keep her balance as the unseen boot up the butt swept her along. Not cool Phantom Dennis! We scolded. Behind the cupboard door is the closed off door to the basement and the footsteps we hear in the kitchen seem to cross the floor from the cupboard to the cabinet diagonally. We keep Misty’s bowels in front of that cupboard. I think Dennis was just making the rounds that night. The topic of conversation was moving.

I digress, I found the new place a block over, under the new moon, so it must be a sign. A Green and 6” x12” street sign on the corner anyway.  It’s smaller than this house, painted a nice mustard color. I’ve found an insulated  paint additive that claims to cut energy costs by 40% I think I will try it. Anything to save costs. The landlord is cool enough. Young couple quite no kids, dog lovers and about par with me as a  clutter bug, And they have a dog… The only places that take dogs here are rat holes, or expect a monthly 50-100 extra dollars to cover pet damages. Rent here is the same as we pay for our house in Texas and for just about the same spaces as we had in walk-in closet space. Our master bath in Texas is the size of our bedroom in the new place.  

Homes are so different here, “So, Terribly old you know”  as  a drunk at a London pub explained the meaning of Stonehenge many years ago. The bathroom is next to the kitchen and on the first floor. So, I’m hobbling half asleep down steep stairs two or three times a night. It’s big enough for the few pieces of furniture I was able to bring from home.  We have had a lovely 2,000.00 sofa, carved wood, the color is called chocolate aubergine.  What is left of it after the damage the movers did to the carving getting it through the door. My Egyptian hand carved acanthus leave throne chairs made it through the front door but not in to the living room. Why Russ had to have the smaller room for the living room… I won’t even go there.  It’s been a gift to be able to stay here during the winter to be warm and safe and only a few feet from campus.

I’ll be in a better mood when I get a fulltime job. I’m just watching the few remaining things of physical value get destroyed or left at curbside for the junk men to haul away.  I’ve been dressed for a while and I guess I’ll go and look for a new sofa that can fit through the vestibule of the new house.  I still belive cutting the legs off the one we have is the best choice for the value.  The alternative is spend money for crap piece of furniture and dump our lovely one at the charity shop. It just doesn’t seem right.

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Feast or Famine

Feast or famine, the spring is gushing abundance on me. Being out of work for the longest period of my life prior to my 10th birthday when I started working with my Great Aunt Helen sweeping hair and shampooing blue haired old ladies in her salon. She wanted me to go to “Hair school” I thought it was beneath me, I wanted to be a college professor!

Well, I’ve been a college professor, and ya know. My education hasn’t put food on the table since February, until yesterday anyway.  I was approached, after begging and whining to teach a class in Storage technology, I have two courses coming up that will bring me up to speed on the subject. Ah, education… The one class will teach happens in august, on a test basis. And I’m back in technology again! Not sociology, not psychology… technology at least it’s got an ology on the end. 

Two weeks ago I put my hat in the ring to substitute teach in the local ISD. Today, I got a call and subsequent interview to teach at the local elementary school.  So, in a week after spring break, I’ll be on the rotary to show up and commando through lessons plans. I have thought about  getting certified to teach 3rd grade. I’m hoping that k-6 have less drug-sex-n-rockin-roll involved that the high school classes I have taught in Texas.

I am hoping that I get enough income from subing that I can leap to the next lilly pad, know what I mean?

 

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My great Grandmother on her trek from Kentucky left a piano on the Prairie for the “WyldInjuns to learn to play. ” chucked it out of the back of the Conestoga wagon herself, so they say. I understand…

Where to start over?

I bemoan the loss of things for them and friends who are in need of help.  My mom was right I have a home and more crap than I need. There were times in the past few months when I felt like torching the piles of boxes, bedspreads and plastic table ware I’d collected over the years. Other times when I cried over something I had foisted on a local charity shop or worse on friends to lug around.

OMG! What are you whinin’ about, It’s not like you lost everything in a fire! My mother chastised me last week about sniveling over lost items that I had to dump on my move to Boston.  Then I got the Call from Mari, the friend we had saddled with our abundance and Pack-rat-cquetering had collected over the years. Everything we had given to friends back in January went up in flames last Saturday afternoon.

Thirty homes destroyed in five arson set prairie fires in three counties. My friends lost everything they owned. Mari, Muriel and Seasonal Dave, affectionately known to everyone as Father Christmas, or just Santa to most of the children in Sandia, Texas and all parts along the way, during the holidays and Sam the Sunny View Mall Photo Easter Bunny. Which is who Dave was being when the call to rush back home and help fight the fire came.

The fires had hop scotched through the small ranch called Tara Verdandi burning almost to the house stopping at the edge of the small dog run a few feet behind Muriel’s house. Mari is retired and rented an old  house trailer that had been use while they built the ranch house.  Dave and Muriel’s house escaped because they used the two wells, until both pumps were destroyed in the blaze, to water the house and fight back the fire with garden hoses and a wet broom. Mari’s trailer stands down by the barn next to the orchard or what is left of it. They heard falling trees for three days after the volunteer fireman left, most of the cops of trees are charcoal cinders that will need to be felled before the next big wind knocks them down or they fall on wanderers in the woods.
I just spoke with Mari, she was feeling bad about not saving the old Gateway laptop I gave her during the move along with a few boxes of books. 

I’m just glad she is alive, “I tried to run in and save the laptop and some stuff.” She said, But Dave held her back because smoke was beginning to seep out of the windows at the front of the trailer. She was able to save some favorite cutlery, sans melted handles. Like the wiring and tires on the ruined truck parked out front of her home that  she borrowed from  Dave and Muriel to make the half a mile drive to the edge of the property to fetch the mail or drive the thirty miles to the Stop n’ Go for essentials between the trips in to town for groceries.

I said that Muriel’s wood frame ranch house is okay, it did not burn however, everything is destroyed by smoke ash and cinders. The Barn has only a few posts standing, both riding mowers, essential to farm work gone, both wells gone, along with the ranch truck. Not counting diaries, school photos and a life time collection of brick-a-brack and hundreds of other rituals of daily life. Gone. Just Gone, in ten minutes time and a Prairie-fire-dragons’ kiss, just like that.
Mari is waiting for the neighbors to help her drag the collapsed roof of her trailer aside to see what else the fire gods left for her other than a melted heap of laptop and a raku bowl I had given her during the move.

Dave and Mari are retired Muriel still works for the school district in Sandia.
http://www.congregationoftheoaks.com/services.htm
Here is a link to the photos of their place. Photobucket(you can see the bed frame is all that is left of Mari’s house.)

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