Category: Personal stuff

Maybe I am Naive

~ ladyquirky ~ Leave a comment

What was the best part of childhood? Was it having someone to take care of you? Lavish birthday parties with lots of toys? The magic of Santa and The Easter Bunny?

For me, it was knowing that if I tried hard enough, gave everything I had to give, it would be enough. As an adult, I finally understood why they make participation trophy’s for kids.

Not being recognized sucks.

I do not identify as a feminist. I have always felt that everyone gets a fair chance, and that if they do their job good enough, they will be recognized and compensated for their successes. I did not understand that discrimination does not only affect accolades. When a woman is judged harshly for having a strong personality, or for having the audacity to question a male counterpart, it speaks volumes to the complaining parties feelings about a woman’s role in the workforce.

Despite the disparity between the number of women vs men in nursing, there seems to be a propensity for men to advance faster, and to be publicly recognized more freely. Men are often excused for abrasive behavior, as it is seen as decisive and confident; while women are seen as obstinate or bossy. There is an element of denial about the sexist nature of labeling women in this manner. Women are frequently judged by how others perceive their volume, body language, and tone of voice. These women are somehow expected to be able to anticipate how every contact views proper decorum for a female.

The differences between the sexes persist even into performance reviews. Men are frequently given constructive criticism that includes specific details for areas of improvement on their actual job performance. While women receive criticism, however, it is frequently geared towards their personality. Women are described as abrasive, bossy, aggressive, emotional, and irrational. Women also are more likely to receive feedback on their lack of these traits as well. They receive praise for being easy-going, friendly, and nurturing.

I find it disturbing that a woman can perform her job duties well, even exceed expectations and still be at risk for negative evaluations based on her personality. The issue becomes even more confounded if she is in a position where people are openly hostile or ignore her attempts to discuss opposing viewpoints. It seems that women are expected to blindly follow the lead of the men they work with, and still try to earn the respect of the rest of the team.

Men are praised and recognized as natural leaders when they speak out and offer alternative solutions to problems. This is the sign of a true leader. The alpha male. The strong provider.

This is reminiscent of the whole “be seen, not heard” mentality of the past. I am not from that generation. I grew up listening to female rockers scream about how their intricate personalities are a force to be reckoned with.

I am in trouble because I was not born with a penis. Men can throw chairs, yell at nurses, and in general throw a fit. I question the appropriateness of an intervention, and I am unprofessional. I am essentially dismissed. Is it because I am not a doctor? I don’t think so. It is because “the little girl argued with my manly plan.” Yes, there is most likely a more diplomatic way to handle things, and I was willing to admit that.

Now, I am left with a job that I am unable to perform to the best of my capability. I am being underutilized. I am not part of the team, my input is not welcome. I am their secretary, or I can hit the road. Guess what? The road looks mighty fine from here.

 

If I Had A Million Dollars

~ ladyquirky ~ Leave a comment

Honestly, right now I am feeling like Dr. Evil. Remember that highly active imagination I have? Well, one of my favorite fantasies is… What if I were RICH? Now, the fantasy is not to be well- off or just comfortable. No, I mean is, what amount of money would make money no longer an issue? What if I could do ANYTHING at any time? So, I sometimes ponder- how much money would I need? A million dollars probably would not cut it in my fantasy- but, I like the number. So, just multiply by some other number that would leave me filthy rich.

Hmmm. Fun. What would I do? What kind of person would I be? Would I flit around the world with a private jet? Going from one island to another? Party in Paris? Would I have a job? Would I still have the job I have now? I say now, with all earnestness I might add, of course I would keep my job. A girl’s gotta work. However, if I could do anything… would I really? Probably not. Let’s be honest. If I could do anything, I would seek to make a difference in as many different areas as possible. I would donate money to charities. I would start a foundation. I would help someone!!!! I am pretty sure that most people say that.

Can I focus on the shallow stuff for a minute?

First of all, I would help my family. I would make sure that everyone had a home they loved. I would make sure that those four little boys in my life had their educations paid for. I would make sure that they had a little something for the future. I would ensure that my Mom and Don, and grandparents had whatever they needed for the rest of their lives. I picture buying some land and building homes where all my people were in one spot. (Now, I would not live there. I would just want them readily available. I am kidding. kind of.) Kind of like a little utopia filled with all the people I love. Can you imagine a little village for my tribe? Wouldn’t that be fun? I would give them every comfort and luxury they could imagine. I am sure my family is shuddering at the thought of my personal little prison filled with gadgets. Can you imagine someone trying to dictate where you live, and how you spend your time? (Well, this is my selfish fantasy.) Wow, how quickly it turns from doing something for them, to do something for me. Interesting how that works.

You see, I have an issue with wanting to “fix” things. I do not like it when my people are struggling. In my fantasy, money fixes all. (Now, obviously money cannot buy happiness,) but, it sure can buy a lot of toys. Who doesn’t like toys?

Okay, now remember, money is no issue. This means that I am going to have to have my friends available for adventures all the time. I guess they had better have their own neighborhood in my little village. Oh, you have a career? No worries. I’ll take care of you. I need people to play with. (Now, my friends are all perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, but- I cannot let their jobs interfere with our adventures.) Oh, they have their own plans for their own adventures? Well, too bad, this is my fantasy.

Wow, all this money has made me selfish. WHAT? I am giving people everything!!! This is decidedly unfair.

Hmmm. Maybe instead of “caring” for all the people I love, I should focus more on philanthropy. What causes would speak to my heart most of all? Probably education. I would help people who really wanted to get an education, and I would try to get them whatever support they needed to reach their full potential. (You know, that may not require all that much money- support does not always have to be financial. That’s a thought I should ponder more later.)

You see, there is really no amount of money that would make money not an issue. Even the most benevolent people would struggle with not tying strings (okay, may nooses) to their gifts. When you start giving people money, it is human nature to try to tell people how to spend it, and how they should live- after all, you gave them money. THEY OWE YOU. Does this mean that you own them? Exactly what do they owe you? LOYALTY? Yikes. Maybe all this money is making me an evil dictator. But, they have a pool. I am pretty sure they are happy. Yeah, I would be happy.

Okay, well I guess if we have figured out anything at all, it is that I probably don’t need to end up with an endless supply of money. It would probably not be a good idea for me to enslave all the people I love. damn, that makes me a little sad.

*Now, mostly this is a joke. Not entirely of course. It would be totally cool to have a little village where everyone I love always had all of their material needs met. But, that is really not realistic.

**If anyone finds themselves with a large sum of cash they need to dispose of- there is a nice little charity called the “Nyki really wants a Porsche Fund” and, it is always taking donations. (The fund manager is still waiting anxiously for the first deposit.)

***Seriously, I would totally donate lots of money. I’m a giver.

Why This? Why Now?

~ ladyquirky ~ Leave a comment

I am one of those people who probably spent too much time in therapy. I find myself questioning my intentions on just about every single decision I make. I open up to my friends (and “friends”) and explore my motivations and inspirations. I seek the advice and gentle leadership I get from my mentors. Some of the questions I ponder:

  • Why do I want to do this?
  • Is this going to improve my life?
  • Does this frighten me?
  • Or am I running away?
  • What am I hoping to accomplish?
  • How will this affect my family?
  • How will this affect my career?
  • Will people laugh at me?
  • Can I get people to laugh with me?
  • Am I being honest?
  • Will this embarrass my family?
  • Are other people doing this?
  • What will my friends think?
  • Should I tell anyone I want to do this?
  • If ___ finds out, what will they think?
  • Do I care what other people think about this?
  • Is this going to change who I am as a person?
  • Who am I as a person?
  • Does this matter?
  • Did anyone else cry when Steve went to college on Blue’s Clues?
  • Who cares?
  • Do I have the energy and ambition to do this?
  • Am I good enough to do this?
  • Just who exactly, do I think I am?
  • What’s the worst thing that can happen?
  • What is the best thing that can happen?

Now, as you must have gathered by now, all of these questions go running through my head ALL AT THE SAME TIME! Sometimes, I get so overwhelmed by my inner dialogue that I simply give up and stop. Other times I dwell on the potential disaster that I have fabricated in my mind. Now, when it comes to major life decisions, it is entirely appropriate to consider at least some of these questions. It may be a little less appropriate to ponder these points while trying to maneuver through the grocery store. (Embarrassingly enough, the grocery store is fraught with stress for me.)

So, what? What is the point? Come on, Nyki- do we really care about your motivations? Well, probably not. I have to consider that all my angst and social awkwardness is really just making me look like an ass on FB. However, I do have good intentions. I suspect that there are other people out there who are like me. People who want to make a difference in the world, and who are completely unsure of the skills they possess that will allow that to happen. No, I am not seeking fame and glory (Oh, yes. I totally am- that was one of those fake humble things people say.) But, seriously. I am putting myself out there- and I suppose I could be seeking reassurance. Reassurance that my words and thoughts are somehow meaningful. I want to matter.

Why is this important to a girl who would swear on her life that she does not care what people think of her? To be honest, I only do not care about the opinions that are in direct opposition to my opinions. Anyone who claims they believe otherwise is a liar in my book. Now, I do not have strong feelings about a lot of things. I love a good debate. I can usually argue a different view point about most subjects. Wait, I try to avoid the word argue- (because then I am seen as being difficult and obstinate.)

Random question: Do Terrorists call themselves Terrorists? Who can answer that? Should I google it?

See? I am easily distracted. So, it is now time to refocus. Why this? Why now? These questions can be applied to so many parts of my life. Most immediately (because I am actually writing it at this very moment) my blog. Why did I want to start a blog?  Well, the most popular answer I can come up with is to be inspiring. However, people seeking to be inspiring freak me out. I mean to wake up every day and tell myself that I need to inspire someone is a lot of pressure. And, it is based on the assumption that I have done something inspirational. Nope. Not yet. I know all the crap that runs through my head. It is usually a mix of snarky judgement coupled with sincere confusion about what on earth is going on. No, this is honestly an exercise to prove to myself that I can actually do anything I set my mind to.

You see, I have spent a very long time defining myself through my career. This was probably not the best choice. Especially when I cannot even really talk about my career in any sort of intelligent, thoughtful, or honest way. And, I finally figured out- and this was a painful realization, it is just a job. It is what I do to make money. No one wants me to talk all about spending my days in the hospital and clinic when they ask me to tell them about myself. Nope, my career does not define me. I honestly thought it would. I thought that by achieving this higher level of education, I could make up for the fact that I punked out in high school. Nope, it did not alleviate my guilt over that. Apparently, nothing will ever erase that shame. I do not identify as a professional with an advanced degree. Nope, I am still a high school dropout.

The mistake I made: I did not allow myself to become a whole person! I had nothing of interest to talk about outside of my career. I had no hobbies. No craft. No skills. For years, I had very few actual relationships outside of my immediate family and my work comrades. This was a mistake, because I had no compass or outlet to grow. I was stagnant. I was bored. I had achieved “the job,” the one that had consumed my every waking thought and dream. Now what?

I decided to start working out. I wanted to be healthy. (Actually, if I am being honest, I wanted to be hot. And get a boyfriend.) This strategy did not start working for me until I realized that I deserved to be healthy. (It does not help that I am still not hot, and still don’t have a boyfriend.) I deserved to take care of my body. That it was 100% okay to go out in public and try something new, and be very bad at it. I am so bad at boxing. SO VERY BAD. But, I love it. It is a challenge. Something that I do for me. Only for me. My poor mother was so confused when I told her about going to a boxing class. She expressed concern for the butchiness of it. (butchiness is not a word, and I do not think that is what she actually said- but, that is what I took away from the conversation.) Then, she saw how much more feminine feeling strong made me. Now, she is completely on board. I know, it seems odd that boxing would make me feel more like a woman. It totally does. I equate the word woman with strength, confidence, and in general- badassery.  I really think my mother secretly wishes I had found a more girly physical activity. (I don’t know, maybe dancing?- except I have zero rhythm, and absolutely cannot dance.) And, this whole Tough Mudder thing. Why would a clumsy, still out of shape girl actually want to go crawl around in the mud with a bunch of people she does not know? (Much better than to crawl around in the mud with the people who will see you Monday morning- don’t ya think?) I am doing this to once and for all prove to myself that I can! Now, I have no delusions about how this is going to go. I am sure it is going to be a disaster. But, I am going. I am training for it. More than anything, I am looking forward to the social aspect of it. There is no way I can honestly delude myself that the actual Mudder is going to be fun. The team part is intriguing though.

I have never really been part of a team. I thought I had found a team to be on in my work. No, that was not actually what it turned out to be. I am not bitter, I am just realistic. I have to seek that fulfillment somewhere else. Now, don’t forget, I love my job. It is my dream job, but, I am having to alter my expectations and see it for what it is. A part of my life. If I fall into the trap and make it my whole life- I am doing both the job and myself a disservice.

Now, about the blog. Wait. Let me finish the health part. I cannot make just being healthy and trying to improve my body my entire life either. That would be a slap in the face to the whole balance thing I am striving for. My history with the whole eating disorder- and my neuroses, has taught me that no one thing can be my entire life. I need more. This is where the blog came in. I have always loved writing. I kept journals- doodles- and have a serious love of words. I had never really spent any time learning the proper way to write. (I have this weird fantasy of being published- perhaps this is the closest I can get?) I thought maybe I could find something professional to research and write about, however, that is not really the voice I am craving to use. There must be a format for writing the way I think, you know, my inner dialogue. (I am really hoping this is the appropriate format for this style.)

My voice. I wanted to be able to speak my truth as it is at that moment. I did not want to be forever locked into a specific theory. I wanted something fluid- where you can see the vacillating nature of my thoughts. (Vacillating is an interesting word for me- one day, IN COLLEGE (sheez) someone accused me of being “a stuck up bitch” because I was using “big words”- ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME???? I was unaware that VACILATE was a big word!!!! Besides, I did not know another way to describe how I process big decisions.)

I strive to be better. I want to be:

  • A better mother
  • A better Tiki Nyk (that’s nephew code for auntie)
  • A better daughter
  • A better sister
  • A better granddaughter
  • A better friend
  • A better nurse practitioner
  • A better employee (mentee? I wonder what the word is for that?) (guess I could look it up- naw)
  • A better leader
  • A better follower
  • A much better writer
  • A better boxer
  • A runner (I am not one yet- so, not better)

So, how do I define better? I don’t. This is another one of those things that there are too many answers for. I am constantly learning more about all of these roles. That is the best way I know of to become better. I would like to say I strive for excellence. My only concern about this term is this; it seems to be a terminal condition. What is better than excellent? When I stop trying to improve, then I am complacent and stop taking care of the relationships I have the good fortune to be in.

My quest for constant improvement puts me at danger for never achieving fulfillment. This is another reason that focusing solely on my career was detrimental for my well- being. You see, while my career is intimately fulfilling- as many healthcare careers are, it still will not keep me warm at night. My career cannot give me a hug, or tell me good job. There are a few people (those mentors I mentioned earlier) who can do that, however, I need to believe that even if I were to be doing something different with my life, those particular people would still be interested in my development. (Even if this is not true, please don’t tell me. I desperately need to believe this. Even if it is a delusion.)

The simple fact that my job is not always fun, and somedays I absolutely do not want to be there, left me feeling disoriented and without an anchor. I did not have a way to define myself. I felt like I was a failure. This was so hard to overcome. I had to find outside interests. I had to find people who were not comfortable reaching INTO other people’s bodies. (I know, gross.) I needed friends who did something different. I needed another level to relate to people. Working out gave me that outlet. More importantly, sharing my funny selfies- making ridiculous car dancing videos- and cheering for other people gave me that outlet. I had this group of people (I hope no one finds this insulting, because I am saying it with all the fond and loving feelings I have, but, this Tribe of Misfits) who found me funny. For some strange reason they found my disdain of the gym inspiring. Some have said they found my honesty refreshing. Seriously, why can’t more people find me refreshing?

I do not honestly think I can change the world. For one thing… I simply fail to see how I am all that important. I do think that I have the potential to be happy though. I believe I can do whatever I want to do. I am extremely lucky to have a whole slew of people in my life who support whatever crazy endeavor I find myself on. So, to answer the question- Why This? Why Now? I want to be better. I want to be more. I want to find my limits and push them.

*It is important to note: My family and friends are extremely important to me.

**I will still strive to be the absolute best that I can be in my career.

***I will seek new adventures, and hopefully be able to write about them in a meaningful way.

****If somehow I manage to make a mark on the world, I would totally have a lot of people to thank. After all, we are a product of the people who love and support us. Nothing wonderful is created in a vacuum. I certainly hope that I am able to express my love and appreciation to everyone who has helped me through my journey.

*****Most of all, I hope I have fun- and if you are reading whatever nonsense I manage to come up with- I hope it is fun for you.

******For those of you who don’t like what I have to say- sorry. Nope. Not sorry. But, I certainly mean no offense. I never seek to offend anyone. Just sharing my thoughts on whatever topic it is at that particular moment. I am sure my feelings will change. Remember, I am striving to be fluid. hmmm. Perhaps I should leave this part out. eh, no. It popped into my head for some reason. So, it can stay.

Photo on 1-18-15 at 10.07 AM

 

Yes! Yes! YES!!!!

~ ladyquirky ~ 1 Comment

I bet you are wondering what on earth this girl is carrying on about now. Well, if you are sure you are ready. I accepted a proposal. Yes. I totally want to embark on this amazing adventure with you. I have been waiting for this my entire life. I was weepy, and so full of emotion.

And… it was at this moment, the one where I was trying to figure out who I would call first to share my AMAZING and life shattering plans. It was the moment that I remembered… I am sitting on my couch trying to write. Drinking my unsweet blueberry green with a splash of sweet blueberry pomegranate tea. Wonder if I can get paid for advertising…

IMG_6884

 

So, back to my life shattering news. Don’t forget, it is amazing. And, I said “YES!” Okay. We all know that Prince Charming did not actually come careening up my street on his valiant steed (okay, or super loud motorcycle, in full tattooed, and neatly trimmed bearded glory). But, HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE? I can only imagine the depths of my overreacting and excitement. The ring was beautiful and he said the most amazingly romantic thing. Swept me away in a tide of love, romance, and rose petals to the beach- where obviously, we took a long walk, held hands and planned our glorious star-studded future. Ok—ay… none of that actually happened- but, I seriously enjoyed thinking about it while I was in the shower this morning.

I know I am not the only woman who has planned out like 17 weddings. Not to mention all the engagement rings, proposals, honeymoons, and anniversaries. Ummmm, hello Pinterest anyone? Okay, I do not actually really do Pinterest. I get lost and confused. I start off looking for a hairstyle- and end up reading celebrity gossip trash. I do spent hours watching Say Yes to the Dress and whatever other wedding crap TV I can find. I weep at pretty much all weddings on TV. Okay, I love/ hate weddings. And, it seems to me that if I am going to somehow squeeze having this many “most special days of my life”- then, I had better get busy and at least start dating or something.

Remember when we were kids? We were encouraged to use our imaginations, to play! Now, unless you are one of those lucky fools who works in a creative field (so jealous), then there are decidedly fewer socially acceptable opportunities to act out our fantasies. (No! This is not a post about whips and bondage… although, Fifty Shades is coming out in theaters soon.) So, it is with great embarrassment that I admit to living in an almost constant state of daydreaming. I have spent many productive hours planning out a fictional future (with the most amazingly beautiful heroine that one could possibly imagine), written witty acceptance speeches for awards that have not even been invented, planned my television interviews… oh, and let us not forget planning the wardrobe and jewelry choices that I would make. I am a world traveling, life saving humanitarian. I am funny, write best-selling novels, self-help books, and memoirs that are destined to become required reading in college classes that teach you how to be awesome. My art is highly sought after, and people offer me commissions to make their lives richer and a little prettier.

I am pretty sure that I am going to be an amazing lawyer, totally awesome pilot, and ground- breaking scientist. No. I do not actually have any real plans to make any of this happen. It is just something fun to think about. Geez, I am not insane. Well, maybe a little. 

I also think about people I see, or read about and decide whether or not they would like to be my friend. There are a few people who should totally be my friend. Sandra Bullock is one. Another woman who I am pretty sure I should email and invite into my inner circle is Jenny Lawson. She writes a blog I like. Oh, and she wrote one of my favorite books. (Look, if you want to know who she is just google her.) She went to college in my hometown, and I think she would make a fabulous addition to my posse. (Hehe. I just said posse. Perhaps entourage would sound better.) I am feeling fairly certain that Dax Shepard and Kristin Bell would find me charming. (Yes, I was just watching Ellen on my DVR earlier.) Kevin Spacey would probably make me seem smarter. I am sure you are getting the gist. OH, I almost forgot about Ellen, she and I would spend hours watching cat videos and laughing. It would be epic! Oh, and if my real-life friends are reading this… You are more than welcome to come watch cat videos with me sometime. Or, we could just share inane stuff on FB. Oh. I am not trying to replace you- I am sure these famous folk will love you too!!!!

I imagine climbing mountains, exploring the rain forest, and winning an olympic medal. All of these fantasies are fun. It does not actually mean that I think I deserve to do this. I have so much respect for people who manage to be successful in their endeavors. I think this is part of this insane TM stuff for me. It is a challenge, one that with some help can be faced.

So, it is totally not weird that I practice acceptance speeches in the shower. I am willing to practice enough speeches to be worthy of winning any award or prize someone would like to bestow on me. I would be happy to accept a proposal from a man who wants to spend his life with me (well, as long as I like him and stuff.) But, even if none of these things happen- I can still be successful in my life on my own terms.

 

PS. If Sandra Bullock or Jenny Lawson somehow happen to read this- hit me up on FB. Give me a call. Write me a letter. Whatever- I promise to provide you with tons of entertaining things. Besides, you should see my drunk texts.

When did I become A Volvo Driving Soccer Mom? (I am actually not- but, I like the song)

~ ladyquirky ~ Leave a comment

So, last night I am minding my own business- snooping and spying on FB. Then I see it- a petition has been started by a local high school student. Oh, if the radio station is sharing this- it MUST be something amazing right?????

Ummm. No. It was a poorly written lame argument in response to the new tardy policy at the school. Now, you only get two a semester before you get “written up.” Whatever that means. This person discussed the fact that the students do not have time to use the facilities- because it takes the average person 4 minutes to do that. Not sure where she obtained that nice little statistic- however, I am fairly certain she is wrong.

So, in honor of my Master’s of Science degree- (see, I am a scientist), I went to conduct a study. I found the first group of people I saw and tried to explain what I was trying to find out. We ended up having a multigenerational argument over whether or not 5 minutes is plenty of time to take care of your elimination needs. ( I really think that the people who disagreed with me are too young to get a vote- so, I won.)

I remember vividly (okay, perhaps I only have a vague recollection- but, whatever) having this exact same discussion when I was in 7th grade. So, obviously this proves that we were advanced. We tried to start a petition, without the aid of the internet- and it lasted about 6.5 minutes. I remember feeling so indignant. I would never be one of those adults lacking in compassion. I mean, these people do not understand! The adults have no idea what it is like to have to switch classes- not to mention stop and talk to our friends, go to our locker- try to find a piece of contraband bubble gum… AND go to the bathroom- all in five minutes!!!! Oh, the horror!

Then, I started looking at our comments. Several of the adult commenters were actually friends of mine- pretty cool people in my opinion, and we were all spouting essentially verbatim,- the SAME arguments that were provided for our teenage quest for justice.

Oops. We had become those judgmental freaks that we all swore we would never be like. I see teenagers out in public, and I shudder. Why? Why would they act that way? Why can’t they just GROW UP? I seem to have forgotten- they are just kids. They are learning to deal with the world in their own way. They have not yet experienced every thing I have.

As much as I hate to say it, my mother was actually pretty smart. She employed a rather clever tool- “If all of your friend’s parents allow them to do ___ (insert whatever insane thing I wanted to do), and they call me, then you can go.” So, my friends and I would spend hours planning our trip (Okay, it was probably minutes- and most likely said in passing) to Woodstock ’94. It was life or death. A life changing event. If I was not allowed to go, I was certain I would die, or at the very least spend the rest of my life decidedly uncool. Needless to say- none of us went. I probably did end up decidedly uncool. My mother simply found a way to avoid the whole “THAT’s NOT FAIR!!!!” conversation. Pretty smart chic. It still irritates me.

I did not realize that I had left the realm of young adulthood, and entered this gray area of just plain old adult. I am in my mid-thirties, and really thought I was still pretty much the same as a kid. I did not understand that I was hurtling through life so fast. Furthermore, I did not realize that I had stopped thinking that irresponsible behavior is okay. It happens gradually. So gradually that you cannot even see how intolerant you are becoming. I suppose it is maturing. Perhaps a better word is evolving.

This act of becoming a “grown- up” is so cruel. You do not even see the changes that are subtly changing the way you view the world. It’s funny that it just takes one little girl’s petition to remind you- remind you that you did become that person who caused you so much grief as a child. Experience changes everything about us- and part of the process is giving these kids the room to have their own experience. They tried to tell us- we did not listen. And, now… we are trying to tell our kids. Guess what? They are not listening. Because “Parents just don’t understand.”

*I do not drive a Volvo and my son does not play soccer. However, I do LOVE Everclear.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

~ ladyquirky ~ Leave a comment

I have a bit of a filter problem. I tend to say whatever pops into my head. Adderall entering my life in my second semester of college helped, although did not solve the problem. This has led to many interesting conversations, has cost me a more than a few friendships over the years, and has in general wreaked havoc on my life. Now, throw in the constant barrage of stimuli and I am constantly in the eye of a perfect storm.

Remember the movie Short Circuit? Johnny Five is one of my favorite characters of all time. Johnny Five is a robot that was struck by lightning a la Frankenstein- which obviously brought him to life. So, of course he has explore his new world- all the while seeking input. I have the good fortune to constantly be seeking input in my own life. I cannot function in a room that is too quiet. I get frustrated because at that point, my thoughts take on a life of their own. Non sequitur seem to be my special gift- although the apparent randomness of my musings actually follow a train of thought that when broken down makes sense. (okay- maybe it only makes sense to me- but, that cannot be helped. The previous sentence is bad. Actually, it’s not the previous sentence. It is the sentence immediately before the parenthesis. I may need some grammar help.)

You wanna know something kinda funny? Well, if not- too bad. Writing about ADD is hard. I am struggling with staying on topic.

So, refocus. Back to the filter/ input problem. No, I have something else I need to point out first. I frequently say things that inadvertently hurt people’s feelings. You see, I am constantly trying to learn and assimilate all that data into a usable format. So, I tend to make incredulous statements- and sometimes forget that people are not necessarily following my train of thought. This is because for everything that comes out of my mouth- there are about 3 other statements that did not make the cut. Typically, the things that do not make the journey to my lips are the things I assume (yes, I used the word assume- yes, I know the danger of that- and yes, I frequently fall into this trap) that the omitted information is common knowledge. I wrote this insanely long- over researched “proposal” while I was waiting to start my job. Okay, let’s be honest- I was hoping for the position to somehow become vacant so that I could take my rightful place on the throne. ha! (I am not royalty- and I realize now that it may have been a little overconfident on my part.) However, there was a whole section that I dedicated to assumptions. You see, most ideas are based on certain assumptions.

There are so many things that run through my head any given moment.  I have to allow myself at least a nanosecond to process before I respond. (However, with ADD- you frequently forget to allow yourself that beat. And, that is where the trouble starts.) You see, I have had lots of therapy. I have read lots of self- help books. I have learned that in order for me to be happy- for the most part, I have to mind my own business. This means that I only need to concern myself with my part of things.

  • What did I do?
  • What was my part?
  • What should I have done?
  • What should I do in the future?
  • Is this an accurate representation of the facts?
  • Was I wrong?
  • Is it really even about me?
  • Is there a lesson I needed to learn?
  • Did I actually cause this?
  • Or- and in my mind, most importantly, is the other person crazy? (If so, I can disregard all of my part.) I may be kidding about the last one. Well, I am probably kidding a little.

When someone says something to me that I find offensive- I really try hard to evaluate whether or not it is something I actually need to worry about. Usually, it is not. So, I try to let it go. (I often fail at that part- but, I do try.) However, if they are responding to something I have done- then, I try to step back and evaluate my behavior. What is my part in this? Usually, there is something I need to work on. Hence all the damn self- help books.

But, did we forget? My filter does not work very well. So, I say whatever thing it is that pops into my head. Hence, lots of people think I am quite rude. Makes me sad sometimes. Not usually. Most people who do not like me are not people I would want to hang out with anyway. But, there is a problem with that logic. When you do things as a member of a team- like my work- or, even more importantly, the upcoming Tough Mudder then you have to be able to work with and both respect and be respected by the other members of the team. Okay, maybe the TM is not more important that my career- but, it IS pretty important. So, I am reading How to Win Friends and Influence People. Yep. The same book Grandaddy got me for Christmas when I was 8 years old. I guess he knew even back then that there was bound to be a problem.

Interesting book. So far, I have figured out- Don’t criticize. Be nice. Ask questions. There is more… but, I cannot remember it right now. I may need to take notes.

I am not using my ADD to make excuses- no, far from it. I just wish I could somehow get people to understand… I would never purposefully hurt anyone’s feelings. I think that is just mean. There is really nothing mean about me. I just forget sometimes that other people do not have the same perspective I do. (A lot of them have not had as much therapy as I have, and may have not really read their self-help books closely enough.) Oh. Wait. See? that was one of things that I probably should not have said.

The best defense I have found is to surround myself with people who know me- people who do not assume that I am being mean. People who give me the chance to completely flesh out what I think about something. You know, I tend to process situations by trying to think of different arguments for it either way. I am a debater. It’s what I do. I am not so naive as to think there are absolutely right or wrong answers about anything. In almost every situation, I can see a time that I might have to change my stance. That is frustrating enough to throw off your whole equilibrium.

So, the next time someone comes up to me to tell me they passed a test, or achieved something they had been working on- I should pause and think before I say, “Oh, you did?” Perhaps it would be better to say “Congratulations!”

As far as the Tough Mudder goes, I am just going to do my best to pay attention and be careful with my words. I am not going to assume that everyone knows what I mean or who I am. I am going to try to be available for the people who are struggling and perhaps feeling like they are not part of the team. I am just going to be present- and not make it all about me. I am going to make it all about us. I am really so very excited that so many people are coming. I feel like they are my friends.

This Tough Mudder is so far out of my comfort zone. I am not going to be athletically ready. I know this!!! However, I am going to do the very best that I can. For me, being part of a team is the most important part. I am going to be vulnerable, and I am going to need help. I have to trust that these people who I have never met, are going to be there to support me. No, they are not going to carry me through it- although Dan already promised he would…. I am going to get through it all- With a Little Help From My Friends.

 

Frankly My Dear, I Don’t Give a Damn about My Bad Reputation

~ ladyquirky ~ Leave a comment

I was never a feminist. I found the fight for equal pay and affirmative action boring and distasteful. I did not want to admit that women are held to a different standard than men. I honestly believed that the world was fair, and that in The United States- everyone had the same shot. Also, I had a negative mental image of what I imagine a militant feminist to be.

However, I googled the term. It is simply a theory of political, social, and economic equality between the sexes. Turns out, it has nothing to do with refusing to shave your underarms. I recently figured out that my status as a woman- more specifically, a young woman is actually acting against me in my professional life. Now, throw another wrench into the mess. I am a fat, single mother, who happens to be… just a nurse practitioner.

Yes. You heard me right. I am NOT a doctor. I did not go to medical school. I never wore the short white coat. Believe me, I kick myself on a regular basis for not achieving this level of education. I find it appalling that I did not graduate from college until I was 27 years old. I am horrified by the fact that I have to take medication to slow my thoughts down enough that I can focus on the task at hand. People assume that they can tear me down, and I assure you- I have torn myself to pieces for years, and there is nothing they can say that shocks me- or even worse, that I have not said to myself.

Apparently, in the eyes of some folks, I also happen to have been born without a very important appendage. A penis.

I must have missed school on the day that they taught charm. Apparently, I am an abrasive bitch who has the audacity to speak her mind- even if it differs from the man standing in front of me. I have had physicians completely ignore me and seek the counsel of the nearest man standing. Never mind that I actually knew what I was talking about.

Oh, no. She forgot her penis. She must not have anything valuable to add. Let us forget the fact that I have made it my mission to learn and remember what each of the physicians I work for expect and prefer when it comes to patient care. I have to switch back and forth every week- all depending on who is in the unit that week. It is maddening.

I am left to wonder how a woman can possibly be expected to sound confident, yet remain demure. I perhaps come across as mercurial. Difficult to manage. Disruptive. However, I would like to point out that I am frequently the one who is focusing on the minutia of the moment. I do have a flaw. I am absolutely unable to fulfill my duties as a sycophant. I struggle with being quiet when I see information that does not appear to be on the table. I struggle with not asking “why?” when I do not understand the plan of care. I fear that this could be seen as insubordination, when in all actuality- I am seeking knowledge to facilitate stronger clinical skills on my part.

My role is often quite hermetic. The isolation of being the only person in a particular role within a large group of healthcare providers is profound. I am not one of the doctors. I am also not one of the nurses. I no longer work in MICU, however, I am only in the office sometimes. I am simply an object that is passed around. Passed to whichever nurse or medical assistant gets stuck with me. I am frequently an afterthought- or an inconvenience that must be dealt with. I think that I felt adrift. Cast out. So, I inadvertently sought to find a place of familiarity. A lighter, easier tone. I needed some of the formalities to lighten up. I needed a level playing field. That was a mistake. Through my attempts to cope with a difficult situation- I unintentionally diminished the professional courtesy that my superiors had earned.

I frequently have nurses choose not to speak to me or answer if I ask a question. I have overheard people say “Oh, Nyki ordered that- not the doctor. That is why I did not do it.” There is a nurse manager who frequently berates me and demands explanations for things that are quite simply beyond my control. She finds it appropriate to speak of our team in disparaging tones anytime they are out of earshot. It is funny, I worked for her for over 7 years- and yet, I have ridden up the elevator with her on more than one occasion with her glaring at me in stony silence.

I should have known there was going to be trouble even before I started. I had been warned. There were so many people who doubted my ability to succeed in this role in this Multidisciplinary team. I did not know that many people viewed my role as that of a scribe. I have actually been told on more than one occasion that is essentially what I am. I sincerely believed that if I read enough, and tried to adapt to each individuals preferences that I could overcome these obstacles. I honestly thought I would earn their respect. I simply wanted to be viewed as a competent healthcare provider- who was well aware of her limitations. I was not prepared for the incongruous actions of displaying both competent and “humble” attitudes.

Another interesting caveat of my “mid-level” role… I am torn between the need to shield the doctors I work for from mundane tasks, and trivial matters, while also acting as the easy to approach friend of the nurses. I never gave it much thought until I realized that I was being attacked on all fronts. I think the moment of clarity was when I was asked if I felt betrayed. My initial response was no. That had not occurred to me. Until I realized that perhaps I had been betrayed. Set up. Essentially lied about. Okay, perhaps not lies… but, exaggerations. Which has left me in the position that I cannot defend myself. Because I am not perfect. I am high-strung. I do talk over people sometimes. I get excited. I am so sorry that I am passionate about my job.

I should have known that stepping into a different role with my former employers would be difficult. I think I underestimated my abilities to charm the serpents. My inability to have a candid conversation with the majority of people with whom I work for and with has left me without an anchor. I am quite simply afraid now. I fear that will inhibit my ability to act as a patient advocate. It is funny, writing this was supposed to get me all fired up and ready to hop on a feminist band wagon. I am afraid it is doing the opposite. Perhaps the master manipulator was right. I am not the right person for this job. I actually kinda think there is no right person for this job. I do not know how one person can bend and live up to every single fucking person on earth’s expectations. Don’t forget, it is not only how well you do your job… it is also based on whether or not each person happens to like your personality.

I never dreamed that it would be a crime to be outspoken. Never in my wildest imagination did I envision being told to be quiet. I was raised in a time that outspoken, strong-willed women were all the rage. Remember the song Bitch? It was an anthem for young girls like me. And, now… I am faced with a choice. Be a sycophant or lose my livelihood. No. It is just not fair.

How does a woman earn the respect of her male counterparts? How do I influence the world and leave my mark- if I am being hushed? Is it a crime to want your ideas to be spoken? How do I succeed when it seems that no one in the world wants me to? Do I have to trade companionship and camaraderie for professional accolades? It’s true. You really can’t have it all.

 

Waiting

~ ladyquirky ~ 2 Comments

You have all heard the romantic tale of The Message in the Bottle. A woman finds the most wonderful man- the man to ease her troubled history- and he has his own demons that she manages to quell for a moment. And then, all hell breaks loose when he is trying to say good-bye to his dead wife. And, all the woman is left with is the memory of the man- the man who made her a better person. The man who showed her how to love. (Excuse me while I go barf somewhere).

I am one of those unfortunate souls who loves a good romance. I have fallen for the scheme- hook, line, and sinker. I want the fairy tale. A knight in shining armor who needs me as much as I need him. The man who will never forget my birthday. The man who would rather hurl himself onto a bed of hot coals than to cause me a moment of distress.

Let me tell ya ladies, I have never met anyone who met this guy. Apparently, there is no perfect man. You want to know something else? There is no perfect woman either. We have filled our heads and hearts with these completely quixotic notions. (by the way- I love that word. I never finished the book… but, that word seems to sum up all of my fabulous plans). Time to stop tilting at windmills. Stop looking for dragons to slay- and magic unicorns to carry us and our prince off into the sunset.

The inevitability of disappointment is hard to avoid as long as we keep up these fantasies. I am a total sucker for a good hero. Especially one who manages to get the girl in the end. I would be lying if I led you to believe that I did not harbor very sincere hopes of being that girl.

I know I talk a lot about waiting. I am constantly waiting. I no longer know what I am waiting for. When I was younger, it had a lot to do with my body. I was waiting until I was 5’8 and 110 pounds, with long flowing blonde hair. Oh, and I had perfect breasts too. WTH? That makes no sense. For one thing- I am 5’5- well, I am probably really 5’4… but, that is not the point. I am also never going to be 110 pounds. I would look odd if that did happen. Oh, and I am a brunette… and my hairdresser steadfastly refuses to ever bleach my hair again. So, now that we have determined that none of these feats of amazingness are ever going to happen… what am I waiting for?

I found an old journal. It spans about 8 years of my 20s. There are some happy parts. There is a lot of delusional wishful thinking about men. And, there is a lot of heartbreak. And, once again- there is a lot of waiting. Waiting. Hoping. Wishing. Not a lot of DOING. Now, obviously, there was some doing. I graduated from college. Started Grad school- Finished grad school. But, I still felt like there was something I was forgetting. This is a very real struggle for me. Is it actually possible that I am waiting for a man- STILL?

Now, keep in mind- I like to tell myself that I don’t need a man. No, I can be the master of my own life, thank you very much. Let’s be real though. I think that humans are programmed to want a partner. Maybe not all of them, but, there seems to be an evolutionary, biological need to share your life with someone. Even a can of soup holds two servings. Everything in life seems geared towards people having a significant other to do things with.

Now, I have heard the fables of the extraordinary women who live full lives and are perfectly content to be alone. I try to convince myself that I am one of those women. I AM NOT! This is a lie. Now, I am not willing to settle down with whatever loser I can find that needs a place to live. Someone who wants to mooch off me. Believe me, I see women do that every day. However, how do you express a desire to find someone without putting off a desperate vibe?

So, the crux of the situation is this. How do you be honest about what is missing from your life- without searching and driving yourself mad with the impatience of your heart? How do you find a way to be honest about what you want- while not allowing people to take advantage of your heart? Furthermore, why are so many people willing to play on your desires- and take advantage of your lonely heart? All in the name of a folly or distraction? Why are so many people liars? I do not have the necessary skill set for bullshit. I am really confused by all of this.

You would think that a woman of my advanced age- remember the definition of spinster from earlier post- would have it more together. I have read the romance novels, the Cosmo magazines, and watch all the romantic comedies. I have changed my expectations- (I no longer think that Robert Redford or Dave Grohl are secretly waiting to meet me.- or their younger twin…) In fact, I have plainly stated that I am open to anyone who is a nice, smart, educated person. Perhaps that is the problem. I have not defined what I want in a man. How do you do that? Make a list? Draw a picture on an etch-a-sketch? (yes, I know that is from She’s Come Undone- great book, don’t ya think?) Seriously, what is the deal?

So, in light of the fact that I have found no answers- despite all my literary research, I am going to start living life looking for adventure. I am going to do this Tough Mudder. I am going to learn to run. I am going to continue boxing. I may not have figured out how to get a man…. but, I think I am beginning to understand how to seek out new challenges. Perhaps I do not need a man to help me push myself. Perhaps, I can be my own hero. And, maybe… just maybe… I can rescue myself.

Elves and Other Untrustworthy Folk

~ ladyquirky ~ 2 Comments

Okay… before I start sounding like a jilted lover… I never even met this man. We were simply “talking.” For hours on end- repeatedly. I should have seen the signs, I should have known better- but, in my usual fashion— I allowed myself to become hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, this guy could be The ONE! Giddy giggle, cough, choke, laugh. Then, he posted on Facebook that he was in a relationship. Okay. No problem. I get it. I had nothing invested in this relationship- barring the $1.29 I spent on iTunes to buy Walking on Sunshine- Just because it seemed fitting.

Ugh. Then, about a week later- he called. Full of complaints about this new girl. His complaints were so similar to the complaints I have voiced so often in the past. I commiserated- and he kept repeating that he and I would be perfect together- Heck, I should move to this other state- (Where there is a disproportionate number of people of the Mormon faith). Then, the next day on FB- he was gushing about this woman- the love of his life. I deleted his phone number and unfollowed him on FB. Now, I only checked it when someone reached out to make sure I was “okay.”

Then, tonight- he has apparently proposed. ???? WHAT???? Are you kidding me? You have known this woman for all of five minutes. And, you “Know” she is the one? WOW! So, I call my usual suspects- who happen to know this fella- to inquire about his confusing frame of mind. I am not sad. Remember, I do not know this man- However, I am bewildered. Embarrassed. Shocked. Most importantly, I am dying to lash out and say something snarky to this dude. However, as a professional, adult woman in her mid-30s, I would NEVER do something like that.

So, I am relating this embarrassing tale with the knowledge that no self-respecting woman would give this another moment of her time. Well, I have not always had this much self- respect. It is entirely too easy for me to have lapses of judgment, and to participate in my youthful ways. You know, rush heart first into every new relationship- err, rather date.. with the intention of “making it work.” Just knowing that the man of my dreams was sure to swoop in and rescue me from the entirely too scary fate of becoming a spinster. HA! Oops, I messed that one up. Guess who is most likely a spinster? Yep, you got it. Me.

According to the handy-dandy dictionary App on my iPhone- A spinster is: An unmarried woman who is past the usual age for marrying and is considered unlikely to marry. Oh, my. What is the usual age for marriage- let me google that. According to the first site I opened- (that is the best way to get accurate information- this is wisegeek.org), the current usual age for marrying in the US is 25.1 years. Eek! I am almost 10 years too late. Not sure if this qualifies me for spinsterhood, but- it might be close enough to cause me alarm. To make me lose a little sleep at night. Yes, I may be overreacting, however… I am somewhat concerned. Maybe I am too picky. Maybe I am too undesirable. Maybe I am too… Me. The crazy cats (yes, it’s plural- no, there are not 10 of them… yet).

Women today are expected to have it all. The perfect body, the perfect career, great hobbies, wonderful friends, and an awesome husband. Oh, and a gaggle of perfect children with a plethora of amazing talents. She must devote time to charity, be civic-minded, and always stay calm. Organic Paleo cooking- stand by your man, and all that crap. I am obviously not up to muster in the womanhood department. I do not know how to walk in heels. My clothes rarely complete an outfit. I am too loud. My hair is usually a mess. I am still terrified of the eyelash curler. How on earth does one do a smokey eye anyway? My car is always a mess. Heck, I am not sure how I manage to make it through everyday in the state I am in.

Now, of course I do not actually expect any other woman to live up to my standards… No, we girls need to give ourselves a break- and love who we are. Celebrate our curves- let our voices be heard. But, late at night… when I am all alone, and once again assessing who I am as a woman- I have a sense of failure. Why are we taught from a young age that we need to get a man, keep a man, and then raise a man? (I am helping to raise a man, with the wonderful assistance of my family- and he is perfect and talented- not to mention- absolutely too handsome for words).

This is all ridiculous. I find it appalling that I hold myself to standards that are so outdated. Why do I need a man to complete me? Thanks for that Jerry Maguire. I have spent the last almost 20 years searching for a hapless, secretly wonderfully flawed man to find me and love me. ugh. I seriously think this is why I am attracted to guys who are a mess. Surely, they will accept me for me. (On a side note- I have a seriously mentally ill cat who is determined to destroy my house.) Where is the love that I am supposed to be lavishing on myself? Where is the amazing sense of accomplishment that losing weight and having a career should be affording me? Why am I still waiting? More importantly- what am I waiting for? It’s like the U2 song- “And I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.” You know what? I still haven’t figured out what to look for.

Which brings me to my next issue. We have all heard the saying- “You will find him when you stop looking.” Well, if you are not looking, how do you know you have found it? What, exactly is it? A companion? Someone who makes you scream in the sack? A protector? A provider? A friend? I want a beau. I want to be wooed. Just like Mr. Darcy woos Elizabeth Bennett in Pride and Prejudice. Please let a man look at me like that. Please. Let someone crave my company. Let him want to share his stories with me. Let him think of me at random times through the day- and just send me a little emoticon. Seriously. I do not want much. I just want someone to share my life with. I want to be challenged. I do not want to be lied to. I do not want to be placated. All of these romantic stories must have started somewhere. I mean, have you read Nicholas Sparks???? Do these men even exist? Until I manage to find this man- I am better off alone- away from the elves and other untrustworthy folk.

Happy Holidays to You! And the Damn Flu!

~ ladyquirky ~ Leave a comment

Ok. Yep. The title sounds a little angsty. That would be because I am sick! I have been sick with the flu for the past week. No working. No working out. Simply going from the bed to the couch all week. I am lonely and tired. I have a Tough Mudder to train for.

Monday- I puked all over my boxing hand wraps. Yes. It has been a tough week.