Have a Good Life

This is what I don't understand.  Why do people tell you to have a good life after being exceedingly rude, when it's obvious that they mean the opposite?  If they've had no issue with saying such horrible things to you, why the pretense at being nice?  Or is it supposed to be ironic?  Huh.  If they're trying to be witty or something, surely they should have tried that route before they said all the mean things.  Or maybe they said the mean things first and they were witty.  And then it makes sense to say, "Have a good life" as a closing line.  But I'm still stuck on it.  I just don't get it.  Maybe they actually want you to have a good life, and are just using a sarcastic voice because they're afraid to let you know that they're wishing you well.  Or maybe it's a dare.  Like you can't have a good life without them.  Like... "Good luck on your life....without me."  Almost as if your life will never be as good without them in it.

But you know what? 

It will probably be better.  Because the person who says, "Have a good life" in a mean, sarcastic tone is a person who is better left outside your realm of contacts.  They probably didn't have your best interests at heart anyway.  And really? If they can't even be honest with you in their parting line (which the invariably meant to say - "Have a shitty life so I can feel vindicated and get some sort of vengeance even though I'm no longer in contact with you and will probably not even know that you're having a shitty life but I hope you do anyway.") then it makes you wonder what else they weren't honest about.

Like... when they said "Congratulations on your new promotion" did they really mean, "I'm so jealous that you got promoted because I'm so much better and way more talented than you and your shoes are ugly"?  Or ... "You look nice today" - is that really a euphemism for, "Every other day you look like crap, so I might as well throw you a bone for even trying to put something nice together".

The bottom line is this: someone told me to "have a good life" today.. and not in a nice way.  And you know what?  I'm totally going to prove to her that I will have a good life.  Simply by the fact that I'm not surrounded by people who would say that to me in the first place.

Also? 

That person can suck it.

Birthday Rants That Aren't About Birthdays

This morning as I was scrolling through my Facebook home page (lookin' at what people I don't have contact with beyond FB were up to and checkin' out my birfday wishes) I was struck by a post from one of the girls I went to university with (the first time around.)

She posted this: Jean Kilbourne's lecture on women in advertising.  And not women who write copy, but how women are portrayed.  And what she said struck a chord.  I mean, I know what kind of photoshopping goes into making these women more "palatable".  I've known for a long time that those images were harmful to the self-image that a woman has.  I was more shocked by the subversive copy that went along with it.  And how Kilbourne broke it all down.  The way that men (and even young boys) were presented in these very masculine poses while the women were always demure.  That there was a message that women should be seen, and never heard.  And while I'm always rather pissed at advertisers and their portrayal of women, I was even more angry when Kilbourne started pointing things out that I had never considered.

It also got me thinking of how I choose my books, and what kind of female protagonists I'm drawn to.  I definitely like the kick-ass-no-nonsense-got-plenty-of-flaws kind of girl.  And even those women always have a couple of guys hovering around her.  Now, I love me some urban fantasy, as most of you know.  And on any day of the week I'll take Elena Michaels (of the Women of the Otherworld series by Kelley Armstrong) over Bella Swan (of Twilight fame).  Elena kicks ass, doesn't take kindly to being manipulated and even though she's got an athletic body she still kind of wishes it had more curves.  Armstrong created a very believable female protagonist - and not just one, by the way.  Armstrong has created a number of great women who all have one thing in common - they know their own minds and will fight for what they believe in.  Also? Men tend to take a backseat to these girls.

And then there's Bella Swan.  I get the fact that she's a mopey teenager in love.  I do.  But, come on.   Stephenie Meyer has essentially created a female character that has set the equality revolution back by about 70 years.  Bella is seemingly unable to make it through life without a male counterpart by her side.  She falls into such a deep despair at the departure of her boyfriend that she becomes a living ghost.  But then... Jacob comes along and he lures her out of her funk.  Why couldn't it have been one of her female friends?  And for a girl that is apparently awkward and has somewhat of a low self-esteem, the fact that there are a number of males falling at her feet should have perked her up a little bit.  Don't even get me started on the teenage marriage part.  

I know there has been a lot of backlash where Twilight is concerned - and, honestly? Rightly so.  We should be providing the younger generations of women with strong role models who are able to go it alone and don't need a male to define them.  We should be empowering our younger sisters to love themselves no matter what they look like - because, truly, if you aren't beautiful on the inside, how will it ever show on the outside?  We should all be reclaiming our bodies from the despicable way that men use them in advertising.  We should be rejoicing in the fact that we are givers of life.  We are intelligent.  We are funny.  We are compassionate.  We are generous.  We are all beautiful.  We are women.  And we need to remember that it's okay to love ourselves exactly the way we are.  

Also?

It's because we're awesome.

And then I had a job...

This isn't really a post at all... It's more like a "YAY" moment with a little happy dance thrown in.  As you know, I lost my school contract when all the crazy was happening back in November.  I made the decision to not continue with the agency that I was working with, less because they gave my contract to someone else (I totally get it, but I'm still a little pissed) but because I just don't have it in me to give these high-needs clients what they need.

So, I started looking for something new.  Anything, really.  Had some interviews, didn't really pan out.  I mean, how could they not see the awesome that was sitting in front of them.  Oh.  That's right.  Because somewhere along the job line it became cool to interview a load of people at the same time and give them 2 minutes to convince you why they should be hired.  Not cool.  Not cool at all.

Anyway.  On a long shot I applied for a music teacher position at a private music school.   Teaching is something I've always enjoyed and music was a huge part of my childhood and youth.  It's been awhile since I've taught piano and I've only ever done a little tutoring in clarinet.  It's also been a long time since I've played either instrument - my apartments have always been too small to fit my beautiful piano into them.  Plus, moving a piano isn't cheap and I've had 4 apartments in the last 6 years.  

Needless to say I was skeptical about my chances.

But, those lucky little four leaf clovers must have been working their magic, because they hired me!

Granted, it's just as a substitute teacher right now, but it will turn into a permanent position once the contracts come up for renewal.  Which means that I still have to look for a job.  But, I kind of don't care right now, because someone thought I was pretty frikkin' fantastic and hired me.  

Four Leaf Clovers

Yesterday afternoon was hard. There were tears.  And feelings of loss.  I've been doing so well recently, and a kind word from a woman I've never met, but have communicated with for four years, sent me over the edge. (Betty is the administrator for the agency that I'm on the Board of Directors for, and she's lovely.)  Betty had called to let me know that the Executive Director insisted that I go on my birthday date with Stu rather than coming to the next meeting that had been switched to land on my birthday.  When I told Betty that it wasn't a problem for me to switch because I felt bad for missing the last couple of meetings due to illness (I didn't think she was aware of the pregnancy) she told me that sometimes when you're pregnant that happens, and there will be lots of meetings to come.

I died.

And I started to cry.  The E.D., whom I adore, must have told her that I was pregnant even though I had told him I wasn't telling anyone at the time.  Which would be fine if I still had my little bean.  So, I had to tell her that I lost the baby.  And then the tears started.  Out of nowhere.  The poor woman.  But, she was so sweet and ever so apologetic, and she told me she would stay on the phone as long as I needed.  Somehow between my tears I disclosed that I'd lost my contract and I was looking for something new, and a little about how truly sick I was.  Betty was outraged that I'd lost my job, and was set on getting the E.D. to put out feelers to help find me something new.  I told her that I have an interview for a music teaching spot at a private school, and that I wanted to be out of the field for awhile. 

And Betty comforted me.  Told me that she was going to include me in her prayers if I didn't mind.  A woman, whom I communicate mostly via email about my availability for meetings, gave me comfort in the space of a few words.  Let me cry on her shoulder and didn't judge me.

When Stu got home, I was still curled up in bed, a mess of tissues surrounding me.  He got me up, kissed me, hugged me and let me cry on his shoulder.  He tried to coax a smile from me, and told me silly stories and imitated the cats - with their made-up voices we do.  He drew me out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where we started making dinner together.  He kept up the silly stories until I started to smile and he knew I would be okay.

After dinner, I looked to the top of the bookshelves in the living room and found that my gaze settled on an old photo album of my grandmother's that she had filled with recipes cut out of newspapers.

My grandmother passed away in the early hours of New Year's Day in 2004.  It was devastating.  I loved my grandmother dearly and spoke to her often, at least once a week.  She was strong, smart and stubborn.  Oh so stubborn.  She was an amazing cook and baker (and pianist!) and I have never had an apple pie that could come close to matching hers.  And when I try new recipes, made my first attempts at pastry and bread making, I thought of her, and hoped that I was making her proud.

And so, when I pulled that 40 year old photo album down and ran my hand across the cover, I felt closer to her.  I thought of the things I wanted to tell her.  Wished that she was here to give me sage advice. 

I hadn't looked through that book since I'd brought it home almost 7 years ago.  I couldn't remember what was in it, what recipes I would find.  I found the recipes of the maple cream fudge she used to make.  The hand written measurements for the family recipe of Batchelor Buttons (an uber delicious cookie our family has been making for at least 125 years.)  Recipes for breads and muffins...and jellied salads.

And I found something better.

I found four-leaf clovers pressed under the protective plastic between the recipes.  Pages of them.

And they made me smile.  Truly smile.  With each turn of the page, my fingers traced the outlines of the decades old clovers, still green, reminders of my grandmother -of the way she smiled, the way her hands glided over the piano and the way she effortlessly made dough.  I can hear the sound of her voice if I listen hard enough, telling me how happy she was that I'd started to teach piano, and if I try really hard, I can remember just how her voice lifted above all the others when we would stand and sing the hymns in church. 

Those clovers made me remember that no matter what we lose, it is not forgotten, and it gets easier over time.  The hurt will fade, and the tears will dry and the dull ache in my heart will fade away. 

But I'll still have my four-leaf clovers to make me smile.