On Education

I'm an advocate of education. Although I was a late bloomer and didn't receive my college degree until I was 36, the subject of studying hard and pursuing a higher form of learning is big in our house.

Tonight was curriculum night at my son's school. I live for this shit. Any chance that I can have to peer into his world, meet his teachers, his friends, or just terrorize him a little makes my day. But I love knowing what he is going through so that I can be as supportive as I can. Except math. If he struggles in math I will just break out the plastic and offer up financial support in the form of a tutor. How he came to be so at ease with that subject baffles me to this day. He surely didn't inherit my math skills and for that I hope to someday shake God's hand and thank Him.

But let's talk about his teachers. He has a good crop of them this year. He has the same teacher for both math classes (I swear he's my kid) and of course the same band teacher for Wind Ensemble and Jazz Band. That's half his load right there. I can't say enough about his band teacher, or for that matter musics teachers in general. I had a very quirky orchestra/band teacher and our choir director was an amazing educator. They both were. So as a former orchestra/choir/marching band geek I am thrilled to get to know his band teacher and to hear what he has in store for the year. I just wish they did a field show (let it go Desiree...let it go).

As for American History, this guy was pretty typical, although my son did earn participation points for me attending. I'm happy I could help him closer to a high B, but pray he squeaks by in the A range. 

But let's talk about his physics teacher! This was the stand-up comedy of the evening. This dude hails from North Dakota and has the midwestern, Fargo-esque accent to go right along with it! I loved this guy. I took notes during his 10 minutes. Those notes contained quotes like, "make hay when the sun shines!", "flipping awesome", and "gahldang". Yep, yep, yeppers, it put me right back into a good ol' Minnesota-nice kinda way, ya know? Yah sure ya know! You betcha! Or maybe you don't.

But the part that made me sad (yes, here's the lesson), was when I entered the American Literature class and there were only five parents to represent the seventeen students. This young lady (maybe she's 27) is fresh out of graduate school, young, energetic and excited to be there. But there were only five parents in attendance. 

As I type this, the entire Seattle School System is on strike. Thousands of students are at home. Parents are trying to figure out how to balance work and get their kids to a safe place while teachers try to negotiate much deserved pay increases.

The one class that carries the heaviest weight into adult life, literature, and I'm sitting in a classroom that is half empty. I didn't intend to take my post in this direction this evening. However, the more I type, the more angry I am becoming. Angry for that teacher that has the burden to teach our kids how to write college entrance essays. Teach our kids how write a decent argument. Pass along the joy of reading! However, most parents decided to cut-out. Not show up. They need to be reminded of those teachers on strike and of students who sit in over-crowded classes while our kids have the luxury of 1:17 ratio!!!

Show up for your kids. It's the least we can do as parents to show them we care and to show the teachers we give a shit about their job. A job most of us would never do. Could never do.

That is all.

Prairie Dog-It Every Now and Again

I am not a fan of flying. I prefer other modes of travel, like driving, walking or teleportation. Flying is a necessary evil. But the more and more I fly, the more accustom I become to all that comes with it (good and bad). Except turbulence. Turbulence freaks me out. Every time.

My regular airline for the past, ohhh forever has been Delta. But since I have moved to Seattle and am traveling to Baltimore's airport, I have found that direct Delta flights are difficult to come by. In fact, any direct flights from Seattle to Baltimore on any airline is difficult. So I decided to give United a shot. Both ways I have had to change planes in Chicago O'Hare's airport. I must say, I like O'Hare. It has a feel that I just liked. I can't put my finger on it so you will just have to take my word on that. Not at all like the feel that Atlanta's airport has always given me...the desire to shower the "ick" off.

Back to this flight. When I took off in Harrisburg (yeah I flew out of Harrisburg--you need to keep up in my head) it was a clear morning. Quite beautiful actually. But the skies turned cloudy in our approach to Chicago. Now...I prefer window seats. I like to be able to look out the window and see something. It helps prevent me from getting woozy. I've only ever gotten sick once on a plane--but I get woozy---that turbulence thing.

Where was I. Oh yes...looking out the window.

I'm looking out the window at this ocean of clouds, which is nothing that spectacular. Until I saw it. I didn't spot a UFO. Sorry, this is not that kind of post. I do crazy in other ways! Ha!

Anyways! I'm staring out the window at this ocean of clouds and jutting out the top of clouds like...Michael Jordan at a little person convention is the Willis (Sears) Tower in all 1,451 feet of its magnificent, modern marvelness! 

Not pictured are the antennas from the John Hancock Building peaking out of the clouds (out of this shot---they wouldn't show) too! As if it were trying to catch up with its bigger brother to break through the clouds.

There is a point to my story-telling. My point is this. Pop your head out from your laptop, cell phone, busy life every once in a while and look around. As one saying goes, "stop and smell the roses", and yet another says, "if you're so busy working, your entire life will pass you by and then where will you be?" Okay, that second one isn't a real quote. Unless you quote me. I'm sure someone has said something close to that somewhere.

Take a breath. That is all.

Sleep deprived...but present

Greetings and salutations from the left coast. We are officially Seattlites, Rentonians, Washingtonians or Pacific North Westerners – or something. The journey that led me and the family to this point was long, but once the ride started you could almost hear the announcer in the back ground saying, “please stay seated and keep your arms inside until ride comes to a complete stop.” I think we just cleared the first hill. This is going be a long ride. I hope no one barfs.

As I begin to reflect on the past three months, I still cannot believe I am where I am. But I am. So I am taking comfort in just “being”; about as best as I can “be”. I can’t just “be”, you see (is this turning into a Dr. Seuss story); because I am me. Okay, I’ll stop now…brown cow. ALRIGHT!

Right, where was I? Just being in the moment, that is. Last week, I woke up with a doozy of a headache. It’s no mystery for those who are close to me and know me well, that when I go, I go hard. And when I hit a wall, it’s usually with the same fervor.

Side story to the main point: The family is now in the house and we are adjusting (quite well thank you very much). We love the house and I will post more on it later. But let me tell you about our bedroom. It (along with all other windows) has lovely wide blinds covering the windows. Now, the days are longer in the summer. We all learned this in school. But let me tell you how that affects you in Washington; at least, in my bedroom. Come in and put your feet up. You see that sunlight? That…over there? Yeah. It makes an appearance at 5:30 am.

Excuse me? Did she say 5:30 am? And there’s sunlight in Washington?

Yes. I said 5:30…in the morning. I typically refer to any hour before 6:00 am as “o’dark thirty.” And in the first days we stayed in our house, the skies were bright, clear and sunny most days. But every sense of my being was screaming, “for the love it’s o’dark thirty, what the hell is that sunshine doing showing up all unannounced??!”

A side to the side note: If you are positioning yourself to fire off some snarky remark on how I’m complaining about the sunshine and that Washington rains every other minute of the year, and that they “turn out the lights in October. And that it is the #1 Suicide capital of the U.S.” OH. MY. GAWD. Save it.

So I woke up at 5:30 am because I no longer have a ten minute commute and need to get up earlier. I jumped up out of bed, because it was not unlike the bright light Carol Ann was told to go toward. I thought I had over slept. My husband thought I had overslept. Nope. That’s just a sunny morning in June, in Washington.

I popped up and then immediately had to lie back down from the crushing headache. There was that wall I was telling you about; crashed into it with great fervor and abandon. I had my hands pressed onto the top of my head and covering my eyes because it was that painful. It was at this moment I realized, I would have to leave for work a little later and contend with traffic. Fortunately, I didn't have anything I had to be in early for, so there I laid. After about an hour, a large mug of French Roast, and two Excedrin later I was showered, primped and ready to conquer the day, as well as the traffic.

I love French Roast. I hated it for many years. That’s a friendly reminder that our tastes change as we get older, age, mature. So if there is something you didn't care for in the past, try it again. You might surprise yourself.

With my mug of French Roast, keys, bag, lunch, and sunglasses in hand I was out the door and down the road. The streets were already buzzing so I braced myself for the worst. I zoomed up onto the 405 north ramp and stopped like a good commuter who did not qualify for the carpool lane. As I sat and waited in the queue for my turn I watched car after car pass in the carpool lane containing single occupants. Well. Humph. Maybe I will buy that blow-up doll after all.

I made my way onto the expressway, freeway, high way, interstate. What do they call it here? I don’t know. I trudged along at 35-40 mph for about five miles until I got onto 90-W and my drive continued. The part I love best about my commute, and I am sure I will grow to detest, is my drive over Lake Washington. One of Seattle’s greatest beauties is its greatest weakness. It’s a city locked in by beautiful mountains, the Puget Sound, and lakes that drivers must contend with daily. Because it was a little later in my usual drive time, the sun had the chance to peak over the mountains and reflect on the water, lighting up the houses on the hill facing west on Mercer Island.

I wonder what the people who live in those houses are doing as I drive across that bridge. Are they drinking coffee on their fabulous patios and watching the sunrise? Are they still asleep, because who gets up that early when you live on an island? Are they on “island time”? Or are they up and out the door like the rest of us poor slobs to pay for their little slice of heaven? I clear Mercer Island and then cross over Lake Washington again and see more houses facing west and think the same thing about these people except I add, “I bet their commute is nice.” Then through the tunnel I go! I haven’t commuted through a tunnel since I lived in Pittsburgh.

The final scenes of my drive will leave you sports nuts a little envious. As I exit 90-W, I pass under an overpass and as I clear it, “BOOM!” Safeco Field is in my face. I have expressed my disdain for all major league sports for quite some time. But driving past this behemoth every morning, which sits next to the Century Link stadium has renewed my interest in sports, which means I need to get a game soon

The last journey in my daily commute is where to park. Do I park down the side street by the office for free? The obvious answer to that is yes. But finding a spot is the trick. So on this day, I park at the Safeco field and pay the daily fee of $5.00 which is tolerable if not done every day. It is exactly 1 mile from the parking deck to my desk. I have the option to take a shuttle if the time of day and weather condition is aligned. On this day, I take the shuttle. Remember that headache? But in the afternoon that day, my headache was a memory, the sun was shining, and I just can’t resist the flavor of Seattle’s SoDo neighborhood. And that’s another post.

But staying present was the point of my post. Each day is an adventure. The sun shines on new things I haven’t previously seen. And that is just the adventure I wanted.

The Next Chapter

It's time to sit down and reflect on what has been happening and document it properly. I made the decision to leave my current employer after 11 years. It was a big decision. HUGE. MONUMENTAL. At least for me it was. I clearly dove in head first with this decision. I didn't just leave one company for another down the road.

No ma'am!  No sir! No way, Jose!

Instead, I accepted a position with a company just about as far away from where I live, without leaving the continental U.S.

So here I sit, on a flight headed to the other side of the country. And yes, I am nervous. Tomorrow is my first day. I will be the "new person". I haven't been the "new person" in a long time. I like being that welcoming face for the new person. Yep...tomorrow...the master will once again become the student!

Leading up to this day, my time has been filled with a lot of emotion, planning, goodbyes, and generally shocked looks on people's faces when I told them the news, "I accepted a role with Starbucks and me and the family are moving to Seattle."

I'm not gonna lie...seeing peoples reaction was...interesting. I'd say entertaining, because not everyone took the news well. I'm not going to touch on the "not so great" w. They were few, and justified for some.

Its the positive responses that now carry me to the next chapter in my career (and life)...that and this Boeing 737-900ER I'm comfortably flying in. It has OUTLETS! For my devices!!! This is the newest plane I have ever been on. I've flown a nice number of times, but THIS is the newest plane I have had the pleasure of sinking my behind into to FIVE HOURS!

I digress.

A job is a job is a job. Anyone who has worked for any amount of time will say that. It's the people that make any job a great place to work. But it's not the only thing that matters. If that were the case, I would not have left my last job. I loved the people I worked with. They were top notch folks.

But with anyone's career, there comes a point when you are standing at a fork in the road and you must decide which path to take. For me, "I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." That is a line from my most favorite poem of one of my favorite poets, "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost.

I'm not blazing new roads for all human kind here...no. I'm blazing my own new trail. But it's the support of my family, friends and co-workers who are helping to make this journey a little less scary. I will hold onto the kinds words, warm hugs, and my Atlanta mug for those times when I am get stuck and think I can't do something. I know I can do this and will be successful at it to boot!

Now, it is time for me to take the left coast by storm and go learn something new! Stay tuned...

The Body Bug - My Personal FitBit Review

I just read a review on the FitBit, which got me thinking, "I should share this article with my friends because I agree!" Then I thought, "Why should I share a review of a product I use, when my friends would probably appreciate a review directly from me?" I started to write a Facebook update, but once it got past 6 lines, I decided it was time really share my thoughts.

Because I never do that.

You may be sitting there thinking, "What the heck is a FitBit, Desiree?" Basically, it's a pedometer...on steroids. It's not just a pedometer. It's a complete "body bug". It can track your steps, calories burned, and food logged. Depending upon the model you buy (I have the FitBit Flex), it also tracks your sleep. You see that? A body bug!

But the part I love the most is that once you buy your FitBit, you can download the app for free and manage all of these statistics in one dashboard.

Eat your heart out Weight Watchers! Okay, I'm not here to slam Weight Watchers. I did WW many years ago and it was a great program. But I don't have the time or desire to sit in a room and tell people what I ate...that's why I have Instagram. The app also has a social aspect. If you have friends who use FitBit you can view their stats and compete with each other. It is recommended that all Americans take a minimum of 10,000 steps a day. Since the nature of my work doesn't include a lot of walking, I am by no means, blowing that goal out of the water, but I have exceeded 10,000 steps several times.

What I can say since using the FitBit is that I have become more aware of my activity, and inactivity. Since using it, I have stopped using the elevator at work (with the exception of 2-3 or times). Since I work on the fourth floor, I get a nice hike in the morning (with my laptop and purse!) up to my desk and home at night. And every chance in between I get up more and move and take the stairs every chance I get.

No, I haven't dropped 20 pounds in 10 days and I'm not even back into my favorite pair of jeans that have been too small for the past 4 years. Not yet. As the saying goes, anything worth having is worth working for.

Blogging...mile high club style

Made you look! HA! I bet you thought I was writing this post naked. Get your head out of the gutter.

I'm currently on a flight from Atlanta to Los Angeles (fully clothed, I might add) and felt this would be a good time to write about "my feelings". Or something like that. Personally, I don't know how people fly from the right coast to the left coast regularly. This is always a brutal flight---and it's not even international. I guess that makes me a light weight.

Firs thing, why am I on a plane? Oh yeah. I'm on my way to the annual Network of Executive Women Leadership Summit. This will be the second time I am attending. I had a great time last year, and am excited about this years summit. Just think, 1000+ women (sprinkle in a few lucky men) gathered discussing how to advance women in the workplace.

Well, it gets me excited. It is a passion that has grown for me in the past couple years. I am fortunate to be attending and look forward to all the learnings.

Who was that speaking, you ask? That was corporate Desiree. And now for the real Desiree.

Woohoo! Los Angeles! Three days! What what!!!!!

More later...I just wanted to blog something from this altitude.

Just saying...

I was watching one of my staple programs, "Project Runway". I love this show. Not so much for the fashion or the contestants. But because of Tim Gunn's vocabulary and how he uses it to describe fashion and odd scenarios is perfect. He is not only an impeccably dressed man, but chooses words as carefully as he chooses his clothing. One of my particular favorites is "Sturm und Drang".

More recently, he added to the list of Gunnisms. "Janky".

The exchange between me and my husband went like this:

Husband: Is that a word?

Me: I believe it is.

Silence...

H: The urban dictionary has a great definition of "janky".

M: Do tell.

He proceeds to read the following definitions and examples.

janky

(adjective) inferior quality; held in low social regard; old and delapidated; refers almost exclusively to inanimate material objects, not to people

(adjective) used to describe a person, place or thing which is questionable, fucked up, wrong, strange, broken down, undesirable, and/or just some thing you can't think of another word for. The origin of this work is explained somewhat in the conversation example. Friends and I were sitting around drinking coffee one morning, and I was bitching about my empty cup when my friend blamed the lack of coffee on the "janky ass coffee maker." I have since heard the word in the movie Friday. 

Other forms: janked, janked up, janked out,

We tried to pick up on these girls waiting for the bus, but I was driving my sister's janky 1989 geo metro so we just got clowned instead.

Michelle: yo, when's that coffee going to be ready? 

Crystal: I don't know. This janky ass coffee maker takes forever. 

And people say reality television isn't valuable. Thank you Tim Gunn. The next time I drive my janky 2000 Accord with it's janked up doors from inconsiderate jag-offs not paying attention when they open their own doors, I'll think of you and smile.