Almostgotit.com

While I own my own comp copies of PhotoShop and Dreamweaver (if I said any more, I’d have to kill you), I’m ashamed to say that thus far I’ve only used them minimally for my web work. 

I am, at heart, a luddite and compost maker, preferring the Zen of Making Use Of Simple Things.  Nourishing a garden with re-purposed organic material (= old dead stuff) is a beautifully redemptive thing, and works better than chemicals anyway; I can strip code and manipulate photos with great facility using only the default “notepad” and “paint” features that come with every PC.  Moreover, I take a sort of perverse pride in doing so. 

But after a certain point, deliberate ignorance is just stupid.

The web is a great resource and I’m trying to use it as intelligently as I can.  Web Worker Daily publishes several good articles every day,  from practical advice on best practices, personal development and time management for the freelancer to esoterica only an obsessive-compulsive techy could love. 

I’ve also (finally) built and am populating a solid feed reader so I can better skim through the latest and best material in my field every day.   

Some of this professional development work is fun.  Some of it isn’t…  Feed readers, for instance, should be a lot more user-friendly than they are, but I am surprised and gratified to find that, even among my web-savvy friends, I’m not alone in finding myself put off or even daunted by many of these “necessary” technologies. 

In the end, there’s no substitute for a good book.  So today, I’m going to go buy a book about using PhotoShop.   Digital storage media becomes obsolete every few years, and can be wiped out by system or human error; books are always fully compatible with human eyes and last hundreds of years. 

Plus, you can read them in the bathtub. 

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Related posts:
In defense of thoughts
Copyright violation & blogs: a tricky subject
Book tour cancelled: taking my Damitol instead

I’m nobody! Who are you?

I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?

Then there’s a pair of us — don’t tell!
They’d banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog

To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

Photos by Almostgotit

Poem by Emily Dickinson

Whoo-hoo!  I just got cited on a site called BEST MASSAGE VIDEOS

Bloggers.  Can’t live with them, can’t shoot them.  (Warning: grumpy post)

If a blog isn’t about the latest browser plug-in, it’s about Paris Hilton (did you know they just let her out of jail?  Something medical, apparently.)  If a blog’s not about either of these things, it’s about someone’s damn book tour.

Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to be going on a book tour.  But if that time ever comes in my life, would someone please remind me not to be so breezily “as-if” about it, e.g.,  as if everyone else reading my blog is either a fellow book-tour-er or else a no-life, craven fan?  How about a little humility and gratitude?  I mean, allowing for the fact that blogging is already such an exhibitionist and self-indulgent exercise.

Here’s what we need:

New Medications for Women, Bloggers, Women Bloggers, and Paris Hilton

The Food and Drug Administration has just announced the following drugs have been released for trial in the US. These new medications are available only by prescription.

• D A M I T O L
  Take 2 and the rest of the world can go to hell for up to 8 hours.
• ST. M O M ‘ S W O R T
  Plant extract that treats mom’s depression by rendering preschoolers unconscious for up to six hours.
• E M P T Y N E S T R O G E N
  Highly effective suppository that eliminates melancholy by enhancing the memory of how awful they were as teenagers and how you couldn’t wait till they moved out.
• P E P T O B I M B O
  Liquid silicone for single women. Two full cups swallowed before an evening out increases breast size, decreases intelligence, and improves flirting.
• D U M E R O L
  When taken with Peptobimbo, can cause dangerously low I.Q. causing enjoyment of country western music.
• F L I P I T O R
  Increases life expectancy of commuters by controlling road rage and the urge to flip off other drivers.
• M E N I C I L L I N
  Potent antiboyotic for older women. Increases resistance to such lines as, “You make me want to be a better person … can we get naked now?”
• B U Y A G R A
  Injectable stimulant taken prior to shopping. Increases potency and duration of spending spree.
• Extra Strength B U Y-O N E-A L
  When combined with Buyagra, can cause an indiscriminate buying frenzy so severe the victim may even come home with a Donnie Osmond CD or a book by Dr. Laura.
• J A C K A S S P I R I N
  Relieves headache caused by a man who can’t remember your birthday, anniversary or phone number.
• A N T I-T A L K S I D E N T A
  spray carried in a purse or wallet to be used on anyone too eager to share their life stories with total strangers.
• S E X C E D R I N
  More effective than Excedrin in treating the, “Not now, dear, I have a headache,” syndrome.
• R A G A M E T
  When administered to a husband, provides the same irritation as ragging on him all weekend, saving the wife the time and trouble of doing it herself.

– Derived from something I saw posted on a coffee shop bulletin board this morning.  With my newfound determination to respect  copyrights, here’s a source but very much doubt it’s the original one — see also here and here)

Today I went and got my hair done.  You know, that thing I swore I’d never do, ten years ago?  When I decided to be the only woman left in my city with undyed hair?

Well, Forget THAT!  

So anyway, for the rest of the day I get to go around smelling beautifully of coconut and bananas, with accents of ammonia, which is just one of those little ways I remind myself I’m special.

Much sweeter, though, is the support of my friends.  Which also, by the way, costs a  heck of a lot less than my hair appointment did.   :)

Emily brought me a gorgeous present today and also paid me a most wonderful compliment about my employability (which she called “advice”).  My own husband spent a fair amount of time yesterday ignoring his other important email so he could answer mine instead.  (He said, re the toad people, that he’s got my back.  And I said he can have other sides of me too if he wants, just for that!)

And then this lovely note (which I use with permission) arrived from one of those serendipitous people who appear in one’s life sometimes and make more difference than they know:

Dear Almost,

I read your posting on turning down the IT job – and decided to offer a private reply/encouragement.

The choices one is faced with as a working/would-be-working mom are so tough!  Through my 20+ years of parenting, I have – in turn – been at home (multiple times), started a business (multiple times), been an independent contractor (multiple times), been a part-time employee (multiple times) and worked full-time (multiple times).  Navigating through each step involved hard decisions, trying to take into account where I was, where my spouse was and where our kids were at that particular stage and doing the best I could by everyone.  Some choices I would repeat, others not – but that’s the benefit of hindsight.

It sounds like you followed your instincts and made the best choice – so hopefully you can move past the toads and vinegar faced ladies (and any second guessing of your own) and look ahead to the next opportunity.  It can be so tempting to sell ourselves short just to get everybody off our back – but not worth it in the longer haul, as we have so much to contribute!

Hang in there!

I will, and thanks to all y’all. 

———-

Related Posts:
How (not) to interview for a job (the story begins)
Confusion Cookies (the story continues)
Nope (the story concludes)

I said no to the IT job.

Maybe I’ll blog about it later, but first, I have to hold my fingers in my ears for a while.  See,  the toad people and vinegar-faced ladies are massing on my borders, ready to launch a major attack.  The people under the house are muttering obscenities.  The thugs on my bus are beginning to shift in their seats, stealthily reaching for their weapons.

Photo by Yodi Ann

Drat it all.  I already know everything they want to tell me. 

It may be my last chance, it may mean major financial hardship.  People may think badly of me.  I can already think of several who will think I’m making a mistake.  Let them. 

Yes.  Statistically, women who have stayed home with their children can’t expect to be paid better than this or treated more professionally than this when they go back to work, particularly if they aren’t willing to play the game by starting from rock bottom.

Statistically, women must settle.  In real life, there is no beautiful soundtrack that plays when you make difficult, brave decisions.  There is no audience that gasps with admiration.  There’s not even a guaranteed happy ending.  In real life, bills need to be paid, obligations must be met, and compromises made.  Life plods on.  Very few people would keep working at their current jobs if they won the lottery.

And in real life, you never win the lottery. 

Instead, you learn that the difference between the right and wrong choices is rarely crystal clear.  Usually there are several options, all of them problematic, and all of them with great potential. 

Usually, you just have to do your best and choose.  And this chick chooses not to settle.

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Related Posts:
How (not) to interview for a job (this story begins)
Confusion Cookies (this story continues)
Woman vs. Rabbit Hole
Toad People

With both kids away the same weekend for school trips, we no longer had any excuse not to get away ourselves for several days, too.  Particularly after this annus horribilis we’ve been having. 

This is a good chance to try Flickr.com too (which is a free photo-hosting site which works great for blogging, in case I’m not the last person on the planet who doesn’t already know this.)

Strange and wonderful

We spent several days in the mountains around Asheville, North Carolina. 

Without our children (whom we love deeply) we were able to spend hours in antique shops; change our minds at irregular intervals about what to do next without starting any major family riots; and eat at restaurants without any complaints about the weird food we were eating nor about the time we had to spend waiting for it.

Sunday Bliss

We lingered over things. We drank gallons of coffee on the sunny back porch of our B&B, and spent far too much money (stingy Scotch background notwithstanding.) We even tried a brand-new thing (straight-laced Scandinavian background notwithstanding) and had a *couples’ massage* in the most delightfully-atmospheric spa you can imagine. 

Entering Zen

Not even I, the female party of the party, had ever had a massage before (which is apparently unusual of me) and it was delightful, if a little oily.  Nor did we giggle at all the whole time we were there, not even when they solemnly played the very loud water-bowl thingies. Because that’s how mature and open-minded we have become in our rapidly advancing years.