Trailing/Traveling/Accompanying Spouse Link Round-up

Here are some new blogs I've found:

Way Off Base: military spouse blog, many expat stories

Tales of an Accidental Trailing Spouse: expat blog

The Trailing Spouse Survey: a rather intensive study on 264 trailing spouses from 20 different country (nothing domestic, though)

The Fatidical* Question: This glimpse at an expat women's experience at cocktail parties with her husband pretty much proves that people are jerks.

Tokyo Blond: expat blog in Japan, no kids! (on purpose)

I'm still looking for those illusive blogs by women with no children moving domestically.  Ladies? Ladies?

*Word of the week! I had no idea what this meant (prophetic) and actually assumed it was misspelled.

How to Read a Town

felt macarons from Little Fluff Stuff

How to read a town, how to research a city, how to figure out where to live-- it all depends on what language you're speaking.  For me, I speak walk-able, bike-able, old architecture, crafting community.  And affordable, but I'll maybe have to learn a new dialect.  Looking at a new town when you've never been to it is hard.  I have no idea what people did before the internet (guess I should ask my mom).  I'm going to share some of the tips I've figured out about judging a town's compatibility.

1. Meetup.com-  Meet-up is a good place to start.  Smaller areas probably won't have a lot of entries, but a large city should yield up a group for just about anything (Southbay Goth Meet-up, LARPers, Raw food and board games night).  Pick your keywords and see what you find.  Now, I'm not sure how wide-spread meetup is, and it may be used more by some age groups than others.  Or maybe you don't even care about age groups.  Check it out.

Knitted cowl from Nisey Knits

2. Since this is at least 40% a craft blog, I chose to do some scouting through Etsy.com. Using their Shop Local search, I found sellers from the area we're looking at.  Then, I sent a handful of friendly notes asking about the availability of craft supplies and whether there was much of a crafting community.  I got answers back almost immediately about stores to go to and offers of help once I get there.  That was probably the most positive thing that's happened so far.  I'd like to thank Little Fluff Stuff (pictured above), maukDesigns, Nisey Knits, and La Plume Ethere for helping me feel at home before it's even my home. I even got an invitation to knit with someone!

3.  Google Street View: I can never use this feature without thinking HOLY SHIT IT'S THE FUTURE.  I've used this to check out my childhood home (they cut down my damn tree!) and find bike-able roads.  Now, I can snail my way through entire neighborhoods.  Looking at things from above always make them look weird and clinical, but street view is nice. The absence of deciduous trees in California makes me sad, but using this I could see that there are plenty of leaves out there.  Through a freak occurrence, J wasn't able to rent a car for his trip, but he could use the street view maps to check out the sidewalks.


View Larger Map

4.  City-data.com- Discussions from their forum often come to the top of my searches when thinking about moving/trailing.  It's a large enough website that you can almost always find someone moving from/to where you're going.  The design leaves much to be desired, but it is chock-full of facts. You won't laugh (you might cry, looking at housing prices) but you'll get some of the big answers.  This doesn't particularly give you the feel of a place, but gives more precise information about demographics/employment/industry than any Wikipedia article.

5.  WalkScore.com lets you know how much your city respects pedestrians and cyclists, which isn't important to everyone but it is to me.  And since it's hooked into Google Maps, you also get a list of cool places, by category, near the address.  For me, if all that pops up under coffee is Starbucks, I've hit a dud.

I hope this helps someone.  When J applied for jobs in Portland, I had more of an idea of what to expect. I'd been there and its reputation preceded it.  This part of California, though, boggled my mind.  And when you're feeling boggled, it's easy to focus on the bad stuff.

My search for a new word trailed off

Image from 3DAstronomer.com

Yesterday, Diplopundit linked to my Trailer Trash post, sending a flurry of new folks my way (hello new folks!). It made me realize how hard it is to find a new word for something when the current one is in wide use.  I fall back on "trailing spouse" so often, just because I know people will know what I'm talking about.  And I'll admit I knew that if I stopped using "trailing spouse" altogether, no one new to these discussions would ever find this website.  So am I perpetuating it?

I wish the word "caboose" didn't sound silly when not used in reference to a train.  Because that's what we are, right?  Not the front end, but not dragging either. Attached, carrying half the weight, and pushing when needed.

Trailing makes me think of being a little sister and my older sister getting mad when I followed her around.  Or grades in school getting gradually lower, and falling behind.  Or following someone when they don't know it (like a private detective?).  The only positive thing I can think of is the trail left behind a comet:

Comet dust trails are the collections of large (greater than 0.1 mm) particles that closely follow a comet's orbit like the boxcars of a freight train (although trails are not physically bound together). Dust trails are the youngest meteoroid streams, and when they intersect the orbit of a planet they can create meteor showers. Some asteroids have been dynamically linked to meteor showers. However, dust trails have only been observed around comets. -  Astro.umd.edu

Hrm. Actually, that doesn't sound great either.  Though it does bring my train analogy into play.  Things that trail seem light or superfluous, without great consequence or presence:

An email from a colleague of my husband referred to his Trailing Spouse; you can imagine my reaction. When I told a friend about this, she asked if I were planning to wear Laura Ashley dresses and waft about, chiffon scarves floating in my wake. - La Douce Vie Suisse

I should change the name of my blog, completely.  I just need to leave bread crumbs so other women (like me, when I started this journey) can find there way here, and to other helpful places.

Status Report

Last night as we were getting ready for bed, J asked me if I had my druthers, would I want to stay here or move.  That's not an easy answer.  From the start of our marriage (and even before) the plan was he'd get his PhD, and we'd travel on his career path together (since I hadn't figured one out yet). So, as he started to get finished up, I started to disconnect myself from my town.  I did not renew my membership on a non-profit board that could probably have used me there, because I didn't want to drop out halfway through the year.  I stopped work on a craft fair I had been wanting to organize.  I refused a nomination to the staff senate at the university where I worked.  Twice.  At one point, even after I realized the poor treatment at my work was not going to change no matter how proactive I became, I refused to find another job that I would just have to quit soon after. At many points in here, I gave up hope.  I packed things up.  I sold 1/3 of my belongings.  I decided not to plant the garden this year.  I have been protesting any large Christmas gifts for YEARS because I didn't want to move with them.  God knows we could have used a new couch a long time ago. I hit pause.

But you can't hit pause on life. It keeps going, things accumulate, experience accumulates until it totally makes sense to go for that better-paying job even if the future is murky.  Submit some artwork to that show*.  Make some new friends and stop acting like they'll just be saying goodbye to you soon.

So, do I want to stay?  If I hadn't spent the last four years preparing to leave, yes. Of course. I'd made good friends, good connections, I love my house.  But I feel like I've spent four years refusing to grow and soiling my reputation with a flaky assertion that I'd be "leaving soon".  That feels really bad.  I have a hang-up about looking like a flake, but I think that's because it's what I'm known for by now.  I'm the one who's always saying she's moving but hasn't gone anywhere.

I shouldn't care what people think.  But I do care about all the wasted time and the negative parts of my reputation caused by it.  I want a fresh start.

That puts a lot of pressure on J.  I know there was always pressure, but I think it's part of the bargain when he's the one leading the charge.  I've got a different kind of pressure, one that isn't as valued or supported, as evidenced by the lack of blogs about trailing/traveling spouses.

I shouldn't be writing this blog-- I should be polishing my resume and writing a cover letter.  I have always been my worst enemy**.


*Somewhat hilariously (not at all) put on by the non-profit I had worked with and resigned from.  But I just got an email saying I'd gotten in but they didn't have a venue, so there wouldn't be a show.  Great.
**I'm not actually having a bad day.  It's just a real thinky day.

The scale of opportunity

More blog-searching today (and somehow this is a productive day at work) and I found a "trailing spouse" blog, albeit an expat* one.  She doesn't like the term trailing spouse either**, but her blog is endlessly positive:

As a trailing spouse, identity can be a tough thing (because if you're like me, that last thing you want to be called is a "trailing spouse"). But if the career you had before isn't going to work out abroad (or you lose yours via a layoff like me), maybe there's something else you'd love to do and try. Maybe, in fact, this is your big opportunity for that something you used to put on hold. 

Chantal at One Big Yodel 

I don't want my opportunity, a positive thing, tinged with the fact that I only have it because it's the consolation prize for having no control***.  Here's my internalized misogyny (it's just popping up way too much this week) again, in that I can't see my worth if I didn't come to it myself, as if taking that opportunity is just backsliding into a dependent female role. I don't, however, feel this way when it comes to education.  If J was working and I was going back to school or taking classes in whatever field I settle on, that feels ok. But if it's to start an Etsy or make Halloween costumes (traditionally female pursuits) it's not.  See what I did there?  Thanks world.  You've made me a woman-hater.

How do I cleanse my mind of these tendencies?  I feel fucked all-around.  And I haven't even touched upon the stink of privilege in all this.

*I'm more interested in domestic relocation.
**Yeah, I changed my title again, because no one's going to find this blog otherwise.
***I'm speaking for myself, not Chantal.  She has her shit together.

I don't think that means what you think it means

Meaning, traveling spouse.  Oh yes, we threw confetti and buried the bedraggled corpse of the trailing spouse, parades were had, but traveling spouse has something to say: she's not who we think she she is.

I don't know why I didn't make the connection between traveling with your spouse and a spouse who has a job that requires lots of travel. Do I need to change the name of my blog again? Or can we beat the other team!  Now that I'm looking at it, Secret Confessions of a Traveling Spouse sounds like an erotic journal of adultery on the road.  I'm sure that would get me better pageviews, but not exactly what I was going for when I created this blog.

Every once in a while, I do some googling to see if anyone can find me yet.  (The answer is no.)  I went through 20 pages of google results and found nothing leading directly to this site.  Fortunately, out there in the far un-optimized reaches, I did find a few blogs and some good resources and articles.  Feast your eyes!:

"My life as a trailing spouse" - Good narrative from women's perspective
CNN article about couples emphasizing husband's career
Male Trailing Spouse of Philharmonic performer -- sounds just terrible
Experience Project - I am a trailing spouse (lots of stories)
Trailing Geek (trailing husband) (blog roll has lots of similarity to mine) (trailing husband)

There were more, but mostly expat stuff or boring rehashed stuff about the negatives.  I'm still searching for someone like me.  So far A Mathematician's Wife is the closest, though she's not nearly as neurotic as me.

My Mom: The Original Traveling Spouse

Inside my mother's jewelry box

This is hard to write about: my mom was a traveling spouse once, but I rarely think of her as a reference and I've only talked to her about these issues a few times.  She did a great job raising us and is a fantastic woman, but something in me doesn't want to admit we're in the same situation or want the same things.  I'm sure she didn't appreciate being moved from her friends and family into a shitty small town where she knew no one, but I feel like I've got that pressure plus the pressure to do something with myself despite the tenuousness of my geography.  But damnit, didn't she feel that same pressure?

Why do I have the right to say she's trailing instead of traveling? She probably wouldn't have much of a problem with that term, except for the Human Resource-y nonsense of it, since she knew what she was signing up for getting married in a conservative area in the 70's.  My mom's public and private stance on women's rights is different, but she has unequivocally stated throughout my life that a man is the head of a house, and women should not lead in church congregations.  When I had to interview her for a class project in 7th grade, she said she did not believe in feminism*.

It's hard to reconcile these things when you've known a person to be independent, strong, argumentative and (mostly) pro-choice.  She's worked on and off at different clerical jobs and held volunteer positions on many non-profit boards, but without a good retirement fun from my father, she would be without funds or resume.  I'm not saying she hasn't worked-- she raised two children, very well and keeps a beautiful, comfortable and organized house.  Since my father's quintuple by-pass in 2000, she's been a nurse, dietitian, physical therapist and chef.  She made herself into a fixture of the volunteer community in her town, and it's hard to find someone who doesn't know her (or who hasn't heard of her).

Part of me says, "But she could do all those things anywhere," and another says, "So could you". Yet another part (I'm in lots of pieces today) reminds me that it's hard to leave your community no matter what your job was (at home or out of it).

Readers out there know there's a bit of rebellion in this, or my need to not follow in my mother's footsteps.  Her babying of my father, outright refusal of feminism and the right of women to lead religious services was always baffling to me, she who told me I could be anything I wanted to be.  Except for what caveats?  There's a huge chip on my shoulder, but it's a shared chip with all the other women in my generation.  Do what we want to do, or worry that what we want to do is just a result of society's influence on us? I want to be a mother someday (maybe....) but I don't want to be labeled as a mother.  I want to do it without the resulting diminishment in society's eyes**.

But other than the low worth given to women/mothers by our society, am I attributing negative attributes to motherhood because of my own fraught relationship with my mother?

Stay tuned, kids. This is the first time I've delved into these waters, so I think I should do it a little at a time.
 

*I did not have the vocabulary to argue this at the time, and it would be years before I would call myself a feminist.
**Oh yeah, internalized misogyny checking in.  But you know what I'm saying. This culture does not respect women, and it certainly doesn't respect mothers.

Traveling Spouse blog lacking spousey or travely business

If the blog has been scattered, please forgive.  Right now, nothing bad and nothing great is going on.  J was given some great advice about industry jobs that made him really happy, and he's hard at work on his dissertation. PhD Comics are less depressing and more funny now.  SCOATS abides.

I don't know where my privacy line is right now.  I love writing here and it makes me feel better, but I also don't want to turn into an emotional-vomit blog, or say things to embarrass myself/J.  Telling him about the blog made me feel WAY better, because I was getting proud of it and wanted to share my happiness with him.  But now I've lost a little bit of that bitching edge and have become too un-anonymous to talk about more details without incriminating J.  No more talk about bosses or advisors, and sadly that could be really interesting.  Actually, it IS really interesting, but I'm playing it safe.

I will end this meaningless sorry I haven't been writing post.  Here's a shout-out to my favorite How to be an Adult blog, Adult Concerns.

It's just a shoe.

Secret Confessions now on Twitter

Hands Occupied suggested I get a twitter account, so here I am.  I'm really terrible at design, so please don't vomit when you see my profile page.  I am not quite sure what to post there other than when I have a new post up, or articles concerning the traveling spouse, but I promise you won't be inundated with a live-feed of my feelings.  Also: Wife in a Suitcase? That does not help my negative feelings about all this. At least she isn't in several suitcases.

Academia to Industry

J's been thinking about the possibility of moving his attention to industry or government jobs instead of academia.  There's lots of good reasons for this, and most of them mean that things will be better for me (except for the possible cheap tuition), but I got incredibly freaked out.  He says there's no way he wouldn't finish his PhD (too damn close) but the seemingly sudden change from life in academia to "What would it be like to work at Mac?" at first seemed like an odd lapse of attention.

We had a friend who got married. Less than a year later that friend decided he was gay.  That freaked me out too, because nobody had any idea! These things coming out of nowhere, when you think you really know somebody, things that change the game plan, this is the feeling I got. The, I-can't-control-anything feeling.  So, even though Industry gives us better options, I couldn't shake the feeling there had been a bait-and-switch.  Why had I been waiting around all during grad school?

There wasn't really a fight, just me wailing and throwing out some tired whining about tying myself to someone and following for the rest of my life (yeah, find an answer in there that you can live with).  If Industry is such an option, why was this the first time we'd talked about it?

It also made me realize that a lot of things I get angry about, information I was never given, wasn't necessarily information he had at the time.  When we got married, he never thought it would take him over six years to get a PhD.  All the sweet things he told me, he really believed.  It was my fault for believing it and not doing my research.  I also realized that I am SO LUCKY that I didn't have the drive to go to grad school.  I'm not that guy.

Ugh, cans of worms over here.  Lots of love and devotion, but a whole lotta worms.

Happy Valentine's Eve!

[UPDATE: I just wanted to make sure that the anecdote about the friend coming out was not to say that coming out is horrible, but the situation was an unnerving surprise.  Everyone wants the one they love to be truly happy, but my heart breaks for her every time I think about it.  It's hard not to think about how I would feel in that situation.]

Snowed in with the one I love

Bonnie "Prince" Billy and the Cairo Gang's The Wondershow of the World* is the album I'll be listening to on repeat all day.  I don't usually post about music, because I have no way of explaining why I like a certain song to convince someone to listen to it, but this is one that always makes my heart feel tender.  The line, "Will you love me if I change?" makes me think of Simply Bored's comment in the guest post a few days ago: would we have done the things we say we'd have done if we hadn't made a decision to stick to someone else? What would we find out about ourselves, when we really ask, What would I have accomplished otherwise?  Would I be here, with J, if I'd done the things I convince myself I regret not doing?  Would he still love me, or even have found out he loved me, if I'd gone away and come back a year later.  Who will I be if I decide to start being more honest to myself about what I can achieve?  If I am as successful as my what ifs? will it lead me somewhere that I can't be with him anymore?


Did passing up a good opportunity get me where I am today, and can I admit that giving something up and gaining a wonderful relationship isn't as retrograde as rationality tells me?  Can I not be ashamed to honestly say, If I had gone for it, I would not be here?  Here, where I don't have a career, am not multi-lingual, not fiercely independent, defined somewhat by my relationship?  Where being someone's wife can't be chipped out from what I truly am?  Why is being a woman, in love with a man, caught up in so many feelings of guilt and looked upon with condescension? I can't change the world in that respect, but I can change the way I react to it.  It is so much harder to learn to ignore something, than to rail against it.


With Cornstalks or Among Them


Where were you again tonight? 
(with cornstalks or among them) 
Moonless night my love burned bright. 
(o out among them) 


I'm not impressed by fields of cane. 
Our house is good to me, and plain. 
Happiness can live here still, 
if coming back you only will. 


Or I can fnd you out among 
(o out among them) 
and sleep next to you and hear it sung 
(o out among them). 
I have saved enough that I can go. 
But where to find you, I don't know. 


Please to fnd me, here I am 
(with cornstalks or among them),
 devoured by fields unmade by man 
(o out among them). 
You love me still, although it's strange. 
Will you love me if I change? 


There was one life with you before, 
and one life more, and one life more. 




*Follow the link to all those songs on youtube. If you are similarly snowed in, please listen to some of these songs.  And then if you are really sad on account of it, see him and Zach Galifianakis's version of Can't Tell Me Nothin' by Kanye West.  But don't watch this video until you've listened to some of his music. It is amazing to listen to that beauty and then see that video and wonder, "Who the fuck is this person?"

The Trailing/Traveling Spouse talks $$$

Slate has a five-part series on how to manage money as a couple, which has made me think J and I need to talk about some stuff.  Currently we are what the article refers to as Sometimes Sharers, meaning we make our own money, keep it in separate accounts, but use a shared credit card for shared expenses.  It's also reminded me that I currently am a really bad budgeter for a lady in her late 20s.  That is, I don't budget at all, and I've regulated my spending pace so that I never really look at my account.  I think about this every few months and say I'm going to start paying attention to my Mint account, but this never happens.

Currently, J has everything in his name because he lived in our current house before I moved in. So, we pay for shared expenses on a shared credit card, and at the end of the month he splits everything in two and I write him a check.  I don't have to answer for my craft store splurges, but I do have to answer for the accidental priority shipping of a 10-pound wedding gift this weekend.

When we move, all of that will change. As much as talking about money makes this grey, cold day seem drearier, I'll probably feel better if we break the ice on our finances.  I really don't want our first fight about money to happen when I'm in a new town without a job.  I told J I don't want to have an allowance, and he said, "You won't get an allowance-- BECAUSE I AM SO MEAN!" Oh, I love that man.

Guest Post: Freeze-dried

Freeze-Dried is a female grad student on-her-way-out-of-the-twenties. She's into SF/F, food, hugs and some (albeit very little) exercise. She is Mostly Harmless and can be reached at frozendry.at.gmail.com.

Dear A.b.,

Ever since you’ve invited me to do a guest post in this space, I’ve been wondering about what I can say as a traveling spouse that you haven’t already – incredibly honestly and eloquently – addressed.  And I’m convinced that I can’t do an abstract idea-post related to being a traveling spouse*. My solution, forgive my indulgence, is to focus on me.

A couple of years ago, I decided to follow my partner, (not just because it is the right thing to do**), but because I wanted to***. At the time, although I was in a job that I thoroughly enjoyed, I hadn’t really begun to think of it as a career. After an initial wave of uncomfortable dependence (that passed with support from the spouse), I eventually maneuvered my way into my first unplanned “home-maker” year. I learnt to cook. I also learnt how not to trip over one’s laundry, and how to fold clothes (no, it is an ancient art, really) and sometime down that road, found out that I really wanted to find a career in the academe.

But more recently - sometime over the Christmas break, actually - I discovered that a lot of who I am has come to be built around one relationship. To most people that meet me now, I’m a spouse before I’m a person, much more in fact than P is. This is significantly different from our pre-travelling situation. Back then (it does feel like ages ago), I was an individual / a woman before anything else. I suspect a lot of this difference has to do with having chosen a dependent life.

Between commuting to work, hanging out with P and getting stuff done for school, for want of both time and interest, I do very little else. Consequently, new people meet me as a role rather than as a person. On the other hand, P, given the nature of his job and of our situation still has a more independent life than me. For instance, he meets people at his workplace as a so-and-so-specialist and the dynamics of a job allow for development of (a certain kind of) familiarity, while grad school can be very immersive and isolating.

Anyway, people meet P as an individual / a man before meeting him as a spouse.

[Okay, now is a good time for that interjection: P works his job (although he’d rather be pursuing his art), so that we can have the life that we do. For this, he has my highest respect. I must clarify that this post should in no way suggest that he is insensitive or otherwise oblivious to my concerns.]

Meet my freaking-the-fuck-out moment: In my own mind, I have become a spouse who is incidentally, doing other things.

Self, meet Insecurity. Insecurity, meet Self.

For me, this realization has been attended by some seriously debilitating angst, helplessness, and – surprise, surprise, possessiveness – the kind that has, in the past, made me run in the opposite direction. Coming to terms with this idea (that despite all the things I do, even I think of myself as a spouse first) hasn’t been easy. It means un-learning some things and re-learning some others. It means walking out of this comfort zone of a secure and familiar identity (that I didn't even realize I was building) and learning to be at home with the unknown. And perhaps most scarily, it means having to do this – being a traveling spouse – without losing myself.

A dear friend (who re-appeared quite of the blue to buoy me through this very personal crisis) said, “Being possessive is okay. But what matters is what you do when they’re around and what you do with yourself when they are not.” All suggestiveness aside, that’s my new goal. Yes, with the traveling spouse deal as it is, I don’t necessarily know how, if at all, I can have a completely independent identity without going back to a non-nomadic lifestyle. Hell, I don’t even know how I’m going to work at this.

But, I’m determined to atleast try.

Footnotes: 

*’cause almost everything about being one is so personal, init?

**Which is an expectation where I come from

*** A complete distrust of long-distance relationships may also have had something to do with this decision.

(Freeze-dried)

Mists, Bells, Soccer Balls

Lazy Sunday!  We spent another morning in the coffeeshop, me reading The Mists of Avalon (so perfect for being snowed in!) and J editing chapters.  I love to look over at him scribbling on pages of crazy science, witnessing him slowly coming to the end of this stressful time.  The road our house is on is almost unfrozen, but was too small for the snowplow to get past.  Instead, it tried to come through, pushed up an impassable ridge of snow, and backed out again.  I should be thankful I haven't had anything to do that requires the car.

So, other than reading today I've done a fat lot of nothing.  I recently found an old baoding ball necklace I bought when I was a pre-teen, and have been twirling it around my fingers while I read.  It is the most beautiful sound in the world (hear it here).  I did some internet sleuthing and figured out how the bell works.  Here's what it looks like on the inside:

I also found out that the study of bells is campanology.  I'll add campanologist to my list of dream professions with candy designer, parade float maker and professional direction-giver.

Tomorrow I have promised my wonderful new library friend that I will play on a soccer team with her.  I think it is only 2 or 3 games, but I'm concerned that my inability to play soccer, as well as the below-freezing temperatures may impact my drive to win. That drive is pretty low, anyway.  I was a goalie long, long ago, but it's going to take more than me watching a few youtube videos to prevent me from embarrassing myself.  Seriously, if you toss a pen at me I duck.

Tomorrow get ready for a guest post from my Ghost of Christmas Future, Freeze Dried.

Future Landlords

I am way more interested in photographing snowflakes.

Did I say our old landlord had already sold our  house? Not so fast.  The paperwork was finally turned in, but filled out incorrectly so it's February 5th and we don't know who to send our rent check to.   Zoinks!  We stopped by our neighbors' house (future landlords, nice people) and got to talk about what a nut the old landlord is, and I got to hold a baby for a while.  I was surprised at how little I minded being plastered with baby spit, or having my nostril yanked.  I think the only reason babies like me is my glasses (also covered in baby spit).

While we were talking to her, the husband was over at our house shoveling the walk from our door to our driveway.  We'd just gotten back from the coffeeshop and had to immediately jump and help (he had brought over an extra shovel).  We hadn't shoveled anything for a few reasons: one, we don't own a snow shovel because this NEVER happens; two, because it keeps snowing and I am not Sisyphus; four, we were getting around fine on the snow, which isn't slippery; and four, if you shovel your own sidewalk, it seems dickish not to keep going and do a whole block.  So, we couldn't tell if he just really likes doing yardwork so much that he crept into our yard, or he was passive-aggressively saying that if we're his tennants, we'd better get on that.  I was leaning towards the first explanation, but it gave J a Manly-Man Responsibility Complex.  He was worried about having our landlords right across the street, "and this is why," he said, referring to the marathon snow-rearranging.

I mean, we don't own a snow shovel, and I really doubt they will require us to go and purchase one when it may not snow like this for another decade.  There's more snow in the forecast, and I'm hoping it will cover up the icy sidewalks that were previously covered in nice, non-slippery snow.

It's kind of cute that J thinks he needs to "man-up" on yardwork when he thinks the landlord is judging him.  So silly.

28 Days of Blogging

I'm attempting a blog post a day for February, egged on by my friend at Freeze Dried.  I already missed February 1st, but I didn't know about it then, and it was the first snow day so I had s(no)w-work fever.

 Today is the first day back on campus since Monday, and we didn't have to be here until 9:30.  That gave me and J time for one last late  breakfast and we got to walk to work together.  Penguin-walking, because this town doesn't have any budget for inclement weather plans, and the roads and sidewalks were still pretty crappy.  As of this writing, it is snowing again.  I'm doing my best to get work done (writing a blog post on the side isn't productive, I know) but it's hard with my student employees yacking about the snow and me wondering if I need to tell other employees to just not come in.  I haven't had to deal with weather safety too much in my time here, but now I feel like it's up to me whether to make these students drive/bus up here.  If the University thinks it's safe enough to be open, I guess I should trust my employees to get here.

J and I talked a little last night about The Future.  He said he felt selfish in his current path.  I think it counts that he actually thinks about that, and it's not selfish if I said I'm ok with it.  Plus, I've gone this far with him, and I want to see it to the end (or at least the beginning of the next step, with a job).  And, on a sort of sad note, I've built my current life around what he's doing, so I'd be totally out to sea if he abandoned it.  I guess if he went into industry we'd still move (I don't like to think about how I would react if I found out we would not leave our current town) so really  he should do what will make him happiest in his career.  He's worked so long I think he deserves to have a job that fulfills him.  Just because I'm unhappy at my job doesn't mean I want him to be brought down with me.    We could both use a change of scenery.

Yay! Step one! Eat it, Boehner and Shitty Democrats!

The various campaigns to strike a re-definition of rape from HR3 have had their first success: the wording has been taken out, but it's still a heinous bill.  Laugh at twitter, but it can get fiery.  Keep calling and writing your senators and don't stop thinking about people who have less than you-- be that money, privilege, access or power-- and how this affects them.  Here's some Kristen Schaal on The Daily Show to remind us all how effing stupid and mean people can really be.  J just declared this video "semi-epic".  I agree:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Rape Victim Abortion Funding
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog The Daily Show on Facebook

Tiger Beatdown's latest post has the list of the shitty Dems who decided to vote yes on HR3, one of which is, of course, from Arkansas.  Hello Mike Ross!  So, I went to his website to see if I could shoot off a "You sir, are a douchebag" letter, and lo and behold, even if you type in a zipcode that applies to his district, you still can't send an email.  The contact form just loops back to the same spot, and the code is messed up.  So, if you can hear this, MIKE ROSS, YOU SIR, ARE A DOUCHEBAG.  I spare no eloquence in these matters.

Going back to work tomorrow, just in time to start dreaming about the weekend. Thanks snow!

Snow Day #2

6 inches of snow? NO ONE driving on our road.

Too many projects going on, nothing getting done.

I went with friends to work out on Monday afternoon, and received a call that the whole university would be closed on Tuesday.  Magic.  Then I received a call on Tuesday for the Wednesday closing. More magic.  I have spent these two snow days (not ice days, fortunately) working on a puzzle and doing some light housework.

First puzzle since I was a kid. Strangely satisfying.

I told myself I'd spend these days (if they happened) doing really productive things, like starting on the next sewing project (large floor pillow).  Nope.  The snow is really nice, power isn't going out from the very light ice and we've got enough good food to keep us happy.  It's good getting to spend this much time with J.  Some free time is good for him.  So far, he's made a batch of kombucha, biscuits and yogurt.  And not once talked about work.  He seems relaxed, and even started working on his food blog!

On Monday I got an email from Heidi at Hands Occupied asking if I might write some guest posts while she moves with her (future) husband in the summer. I am thrilled.  We've got some things in common in the "trailing spouse" department, so I'm really glad to be her sounding board, and vice versa, about identity/marriage/moving issues.  However, she'll be very likely taking that step before me.

Heidi's fiance is an excellent craft helper with their ribbon wall.

[UPDATE: we are closed for Thursday, too. As an adult, I don't think I can ever hope for such luck again.]

Photo by Chris Clanton

Snow day chaser

Here's a chaser for that last post if you were already having a bad day. : (  A room full of my favorite things.

John Boehner, "Rape-rape", and what we can do about it

*Trigger warning*

Top-priority in this country, in John Boehner's POV, is changing the definition of rape.  Not for the better, mind you, but to make sure that less women are covered for government-funded abortions that result from sexual assault.  You probably read about "rape-rape" during the latest surge of the Polanski debate, but now our politicians are seriously differentiating a violent assault from date rape, statutory and coercion.   The way it's been, only rape and incest are covered by the government for abortion funding. So to further whittle that down, the Repubs want to define what "kind" of rape they're willing to include in this exemption.  Drugged? No. Unconscious and woke up with someone inside you that you did not consent to?  Young teen molested by your stepdad? No. No.

Rape is rape. There is not "rape-ier" rape. There is no tiered system.  There is abuse and hopefully there is help, but many people in government want to take away the second option.

Sady Doyle of Tiger Beatdown has started another twitter campaign, and if you smirk at that kind of idea, that's fine, but it works to get the word out (@JohnBoehner, #DearJohn).  Write to your representatives about this, tweet about it, write about it, and don't let it go down silently.  It isn't hard-- fill out a form, tell them what you think about what's happening.  A redefinition of rape is terrible in terms of abortion coverage, but it may have far-reaching legal implications that will obviously not help survivors and victims.

Think about how fucking awful any sexual assault is, then think about being told you weren't raped enough to get government assistance. And you can't afford an abortion on your own.  Or raise a child. This makes me so ashamed of our country right now.