Not one of those posts!

If anyone has been wondering why I haven't written in a week, it's because J has had two interviews with the same company in the past two weeks and things are moving.  But he doesn't want me to write about that stuff as much, because it felt bad the last time he didn't get a job, and the whole internet knew about it. I understand that.  Unfortunately what he's doing is pretty necessary for this blog to move along, so I've been feeling a little... clogged.  This is go time, the time I really need to write about this so the community I've been trying to build can help me along.

The prospect of moving is exciting, and FUCKING HORRIFYING.  Yes, I would like to move before the Fall semester starts (the busiest/worst/best part of my work year) but now I'm looking around my town saying, "Damn, I like it here", and researching towns where the jobs and thinking, "Damn, I like it here*".  I do like it here.

Powerless, that's what it feels like.  About to go somewhere where I don't know anyone and my only friend will always be gone and really tired when he comes home and it may be a suburb, and maybe I'll end up having kids only because there's nothing else for me there.  I've burst into tears four times today, and I swear I'm trying to find something positive.  I feel even more awful that I'm not jumping up and down.  I am happy about the opportunity, just not so jazzed about where it is.

He's flying to California for an interview next week.  If things go smoothly, we could be out of here by August.

*Here being here, now. Not there.

Trailing Spouses, Military Wives and Righteous Indignation

Ask a Manager answered a question from a military spouse today that was VERY pertinent to my interests:

I will be giving my (two week) notice at my job this Friday.  I’m not leaving to take another job.  I’m leaving because the Army is moving us ….. again.  Unfortunately, in order to get the job, I had to fib and tell the bosses that we’d be staying in the area (and would eventually retire here) and I think that’s one of the reasons why they hired me — I said I was sticking around.  Many employers will not hire military spouses if they think they are leaving soon, and the reality is that I usually have to “fib” about how long we’re staying in order to get any job.

Oy! Sound familiar?  This was my go-to excuse for not trying to get out of my current work situation, not wanting to start a job when I knew we might move.  You know who "might" move? Anyone!  I wasted years not letting myself move on, and that totally sucks.  I wish I knew if this lady had a blog, because I'd read the hell out of it.

The commenters on the post chastise her for her "fibbing" and tell her she's an out-right liar.  This got my hackles up immediately.  She can tell the truth and hope she's not dropped for the possibility she may move, she can omit what her spouse does for a living, or she can just stop living her life completely until she drops dead and finally "commits" to a burial plot.

When I asked my HR department whether or not I should tell my boss about J's graduation, we got into a talk about the possibility of relocation if he gets a good job.  I said that was definitely a possibility, but since I have no control over his job prospects, it's hardly fair to judge me for it.  One of the HR crazies even suggested that I let them know about his progress as soon as he gets an interview!  It's like I'd grown a third arm or something, and that third arm was looking for a new job.  Candace at Army Wives Lives answered a similar question to the one above, much more articulately:

Most states do not specifically grant military spouses protection from employment discrimination.  However, you may not discriminate against someone based on marital status.  An employer making inquiries about your marriage for any purpose is simply inappropriate.  They also cannot ask if you are planning to get pregnant and take maternity leave in the near future.

Yes, I do sort of have control over where he gets a job (once he gets an offer) and we are a unit.  I'm stuck to/with him for life, and I'm glad of that, but we are two different people.  I do not want to be thought of in terms of him when looking for a job.  It's enough to pull up roots and move somewhere for someone else, so I found it completely insulting that the commenters at Ask a Manager wouldn't even give her the concession of not offering up conjecture in an interview.

I see it as a bias similar to avoiding women because maybe someday they'll get pregnant and have to take time off.  Planning for the future is a part of being a manager, but there are some assumptions that shouldn't be made, for the dignity of your employee.

So, now I need to go find army spouse blogs, because that is a corner of the internet I never even thought to look in!  If anyone knows a good one, please let me know in the comments.  I'm in a lather right now and will probably have to come back to this later to make it more succinct.

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.

Mammatus

from a local twitter search

We've had crazy-pants rain for the past week, dangerous too.  I didn't take this picture, but it's exactly what the clouds looked like when I got out of my ASL class last night.  They looked like movie clouds.  A local search on twitter for "clouds" taught me these were mammatus ("breast") clouds.  They're super cute and look like boobs but are indicative of really bad weather, often tornadoes.

T-minus 2 days until J's dissertation defense.  He got sick this morning, and I'm sure it was nerves (vegetarians just don't get food poisoning).

Here's a terrible thought: our relationship has been really good, and I've been way calmer than usual since he began the downhill to graduation.  In other words, as he's gotten more stressed, I've had a reduction in mine.  I think it may have something to do with me feeling like I actually have more control in my life than him for once.  Even if it's not real control, the comparison makes it look like it.  That makes me feel bad, but since I'm feelin' so stable and great, I'll use it to make sure he's doing good, too.  I swear it is not schadenfreude.

Thursday and Friday I get to spend all day in a workshop for supervisors/managers.  I'm excited, because I like my job and would like it more if I was better at it.  I think my boss doesn't value this kind of training much, but I figure some is better than none.  I also get to leave an hour early on Friday. Score!

Job available-- but am I?

A job I may be quite qualified came open this week.  It pays substantially more and would involve more projects and public relations, and is at my current institution.  Should I apply knowing there's a chance that J might get a job soon?

But haven't I been asking myself that for the past three years?  I have held myself back in my current job by riding my hopes on another person.  And now that it (J's job) may actually happen soon, there's this job. That I would be silly not to go for.

But once again, I will have to bite my tongue and let another opportunity  pass away.  Who knows when J will get a job?   He will be graduating mid-May, but so far we have no bites.  I say "we", but it's starting to grate on me*.  I don't have anything to do with this.  I am completely at the whim of someone else's career.

It's not a good time to be angry, but I am.  I am my own person and I am good at my job, but I am losing myself in his job search.  Even at work, now that my boss knows he's graduating, it is assumed that we're leaving and I'm being treated differently.  I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER THIS. This would have been easier if he wasn't a student, and I wouldn't have had to tell anyone what was happening.  But with working with faculty... they were going to find out.  Now I'm awash in uncertainty not only in my own mind, but coming from those around me.

So, how can I apply for this job and still feel honest?  I don't want to not try, and then six months down the road J still doesn't have a job.  A month ago that thought wouldn't' have even crossed my mind, but who are we kidding?  The economy sucks and no one has contacted him about any of his applications.  It doesn't matter how talented/skilled/educated you are right now.  We could be looking at a long, dark haul.

Can anyone understand why trying to get a new job, especially in the same institution, would be a bad idea right now?  Even if I got it, if we had to move less than a year later, I would be leaving a bad reputation at a place I would have been remembered fondly, if only I hadn't wasted their time.  Plus, it's probably gotten around that J is graduating, so they won't even consider me.  Who would?  I wouldn't.

It's an endless fucking cycle of self-effacement, obnoxious martyrdom and failure.  Failure before I can even try.  I am just so tired of waiting.

*J isn't grating on me. He is wonderful and supportive and working really hard.

CPCs and Jesus's career as a gyno

Well guess what-- Jesus isn't a gynecologist. You'd be surprised, though, how often his name is spoken to women in supposed "crisis pregnancy centers" as a part of the counseling session for abortions, birth control, or STI testing.  There are a few of these in my town, and when I first heard the term CPC, I did some research to root them out.  It's pretty much made me distrust any logo with a butterfly. (Look for yourself to see if you have any masquerading in your town).


One of my student employees asked to talk to me in my office today.  She's come in to get things off her chest before, and I appreciate that she feels safe enough at work and close enough with me to let me know when personal stuff may intrude on work.  We don't gab about boys, but if there's a problem, she'll let me know and ask my advice.  This is one more situation that makes me realize I am an adult now, whether I like it or not, and I hope I'm up to the challenge.


Seems that yesterday she went to a free clinic for an STI test (I applauded her responsibility) and quickly found out it was a CPC.  She had a little inkling that they existed, but had looked at their website and didn't find anything that sounded, as she said, "Jesus-y".   She's a strong young woman, so she didn't cow to their judgment, and they are very lucky she didn't bring out the temper than can be the bane of a customer service job.  She knew what she was there for and what they were supposed to give, so she waited for the spiel to be over and left.  They told her the results might take 6 weeks.  That made me raise my eyebrows, so I looked it up:

It usually takes about 48 hours to get the results of a STD test. Some tests like the one for syphilis takes about seven to 10 days. HIV test results can be obtained within three days. Chlamydia and gonorrhea test results take about a week. Tests done to check HIV infection can also provide information regarding the presence of some other STDs in the body. A urine and blood sample is usually taken during STD check-up. Symptoms like spots, wounds and sores are also looked into. -link

I told her that since she was dubious about their practices and unprofessional behavior, she should go to the county health clinic.  I said it might not be full of butterflies and people to hold your hand, but they're professionals and will get the job done, in less than six weeks (for chris'sakes).  We had a talk about being an adult and making decisions about your health, and she was on the same page but wanted some backup.  So I backed her up, as feminist as I pleased.

Of course, while taking blood for the STI test, they insisted she get a pregnancy test since she was there.  Fortunately for her, she's ok.  Unfortunately for them, they won't be able to force a woman to talk about a fetus she doesn't want to carry.  She said she wouldn't go back, and I suggested she let her girlfriends know what it is, and they can make that decision for themselves.  With everything a young woman in college has on her mind, the last thing she needs is a stranger pretending to help but really offering judgment.  I'm glad she got out of there, and I hope she turns out ok.

Her 'counselor' didn't know the difference between the uterus and cervix. Bad sign.

Please remember that Planned Parenthood will help you do whatever you decide is best and will not judge you.  They are a medical provider for safe, common and legal procedures as well as normal exams, sexual health and birth control.  And if you still want to go to a CPC for free services if you can't get them at PP, remember that you have the right to autonomy and respect.  If they ask to pray for you, tell them they're free to as you are walking away.

Resources about CPCs:

Feministe
Wikipedia
NARAL
Footage of service at a CPC
CPC Watch: Exposing fake clinics
True/False on Abortion Counseling from Guttmacher Institute

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.

In which I try to explain my ire

The emphasis on women following men really gets under my skin, and that's the majority of these articles I'm compiling. I guess I'm rankled in general about how un-unique my situation is, and if it wasn't so common, maybe I'd feel differently and would have better/different resources. How can I properly articulate this?

I am a person. I'm nearing 30, with a degree, a good job (but not necessarily a career yet) and a spouse. I like my house and my town.  I like to cook and ride my bike.

But since I'm a female person, my resources and advice aren't the same as a man. And there really isn't as much to tell a man (sorry dudes, that really is the short end of the stick) because it's mostly women following men to a new place.  And there really isn't that much of an infrastructure to counsel us, because it's just expected that we follow.  So what's the fuss?

I have a fuss!  This isn't easy.  I'm not just following blythely. I'm not even following completely happily. There should be books on this, obvious answers/counsel.  But there's not, and it's because of shitty expectations. 

If this is a post-feminist world, then I'm Shirley Maclaine*.

*Maybe in another life?

Ways to get by

don't want to use this blog as a platform to complain about my job, but dang. [redacted].  Instead, I will use this negative to come up with the first item on my list of Ways I Get By.

1) People being unreasonable at work?   Call them out on it. Nicely. When they say something that doesn't make sense? Ask questions until they realize they are acting loony and emotional and stop the bad behavior.  This worked today, and I felt pretty proud of myself.  The hope of moving on has given me some courage.

2) Throw yourself headfirst into a new hobby.  I have chosen sewing, and am going to start a class on Monday.  I know people in the local fashion world, so I've called on them for advice.

3) Make new friends.  I've made two new friends in the past 6 months that I hang out with at least once a week. Once a week means a lot to me, because everyone is so busy these days. I felt apathetic about meeting new people during my "We're just going to move as soon as something good happens so why even try waaaaaah" phase.  This didn't help things. 

4) Relax. I am not really good at this, but I'm making a point of being selfish and sitting on the couch to read while the spouse does house things.  I used to think if I sat down, not as much would get done, but now I don't care as much.  If I relax, I'm happier.  If I'm happier, I don't feel like I have to have an iron fist around the house.

5) Remember that the spouse is amazing and you love him/her.  Being sweet to someone makes you feel good.  And then they're sweet back.  And then you remember that though life seems like a huge stressor, at the middle of it all (well, from your perspective) is you and him.

6) Exercise.  Yeah, that sucks right now, but you know you always feel better when it's done. But yeah, lots of suckage.

Flowers help, also penpals, walks with no purpose and beers.

Beers!/Cheers!


(There's no read video, but good song)

Internet Anonymity? Well, hi Internet.

I haven't written a blog in a long time, and it's been quite a while since I seriously felt important enough for some free bandwidth. I'd like to hope I'm anonymous, as some of the things I'd like to talk about on this blog might hurt some people's feelings.

It does feel good to do this.

I am 27, and I hold a bachelor degree in a liberal art. It is somewhat worthless, but I have a job that pays well and doesn't put me in danger. On a day like today, I really should be so thankful for the air conditioning. I got married some years ago, and my spouse is in grad school. Ze(I'll attempt to stay gender-neutral*) are very close to finishing up a PhD and already looking for jobs. This blog is about being the one without a career path yet, married to one on zes way.

For the past few years, I've been in a limbo waiting to see if I'd be here for a while, or moving on. This limbo has caused me to make excuses about not doing things that will take a commitment and feeling resentment against my spouse. I knew what I was getting into when I said I'd follow zem everywhere. But I didn't. This was my first real relationship, one that lasted longer than the initial flares of passion and went into truly getting to know someone territory. But this wasn't a lesson that could be learned by thinking really hard about it. The reality has been hard on me.

When we got married, I was under the impression that ze was almost done. We told our relatives (somewhat jokingly) about moving to another country. My biggest problem in life has always been my fear of asking questions. The questions that would get me where I need to go and let me know where I stand. I guess I never straight-out asked how long this could take, and so I lived for years thinking "I'll be gone in 6 months". I packed boxes every once in a while. I sold boxes of books. I quit a non-work activity because I thought I couldn't commit for the term necessary. I put off looking for a better job, even though the one I had was killing me. For a while I even shied away from making new friends, thinking it wasn't worth the effort.

It wasn't until last year that my facade of faithful sidekick crumbled and I told zem all about how unhappy I was with not knowing. Ze wasn't happy about it either, and my telling zem didn't help. I knew it was my right to talk about my feelings, but I felt horrible that I'd put more pressure on zem than ze already had. (This is my first time writing with these pronouns, and I feel clunky, but I feel it's for the greater good). I had and have a right to be happy and a right to be unhappy. Playing the part of a loyal and uncomplaining spouse was a great way to go crazy. Believe me, I went a little crazy.

Advice for the "trailing" spouse (though this usually refers to a two-career household) is usually not to complain, though this is usually only directed at women. There's some truth to that, but it's only to not complain all the damn time. If you've told zem you're unhappy and why, and try to fix it or ask them to help you fix it, that is totally ok. But if you're letting zem know at every turn that they need to pick up the speed and get done already, that may be edging into some non-productive territory.

So, here I am, at a middling job, with a bachelor's degree in uselessness, married to a wonderful person who really is trying as hard as ze can.

It is a job. And I am thankful for that.

And my degree, while seemingly useless, is a stepping stone and helped me get said job.

And my spouse is my favorite person in the world.

And if I try to write down everything I've thought about for the past three years, this will be a terrible blob of a post and no one will reach the end of it before they perish.

I hope this can be a resource or a voice in the dark for other people, married or not, who need an outlet for the fear and helplessness that this situation can make you feel. I learned that it's totally ok to feel this way, but it's not ok to keep it all inside. If you can talk about it, you can figure a way out. I'm stilling digging myself out of this pit, but I could use some company.

*For a good guide to this, if you care: http://santiago.mapache.org/nonfiction/essays/zie.html

[UPDATE 1-8-11] Lots of you are coming here reading this post, but rest assured this was the first one and I've come a long way, including dropping the badly-done gender-neutral pronouns.  Thanks to Drug Monkey for the good press.