All's Well That Ends Well...I Think?

             I'm pretty sure I've typed up at least half a dozen of these to throw up here when I actually got the chance to type it all out again...and then just never did.

             Figured tonight would be a better night than any...

             In less than 24 hours, I take a test that will determine my future. Now, let me just give you a rather quick rundown of my relationship with tests go...

              It's a hate/hate relationship. Okay...it's a I'm-gonna-fuck-you-over/I'm-gonna-wish-I-could-rip-your-stupid-scantron-face-into-a-million-tiny-confetti-pieces-and-then-burn-you-to-the-fucking-ground-you-stupid-green-boxed-life-ruiner.

               Okay, now that that has been cleared up, I have this test tomorrow. My nursing final. It all comes down to this. The last test, of the last semester, of the last chance I'm giving nursing school. Ahh, yes...I failed it once already. Blame it on a boy, blame it on being too young, blame it on whatever you want...it all comes down to the fact that I messed up and I had to figure out what the hell to do afterwards ((and after breaking part of my hand for punching a wall and buying two bottles of whiskey)). I failed. Not sure there's a whole lot of things I've failed at...and this wasn't something I was too proud of. So, I did what any rational person would do.

                        I fought my way back in, and gave it everything I had.

                 So, here I am...6 years later...from start to almost finish...it all comes down to whether or not I can pass this test. ((Aside from that OTHER big test I have to take in order to actually BE a nurse...)). I'm not entirely certain how I'm supposed to feel about finally finishing this very long, very difficult, very frustrating, very EVERYTHING journey I've gone on...with everyone else that has stuck with me along the way...

              Or, maybe it's the fact that, in the near distant future, somebody out there is going to hand me a certificate to actually save people's lives...

The Anticipation is Palpably Painful

I am waiting for a phone call that will not come for another three and a half hours.

While I was in Washington last Monday, brushing my teeth, I got a phone call from a WA number. Thinking it was my host confirming our lunch plans, I picked up the phone with the toothbrush still in my mouth.

It was not Grace. It was an Amazon recruiter. Who wanted me to skip four phone interviews and come into the office for an interview “since you’re in town anyway.”

Well, there are a lot of things I do not know about in life, but one thing I do know is that you do not say no to a big company when they are asking you to interview for a job you don’t yet have, but are already extremely passionate about.

The interviews went okay. Parts of them went swimmingly, and parts of them I disconnected and couldn’t pull it in. When they asked about times I disagreed with something that my customers did, or something that happened in a project. I am not great at disagreeing with how things are done, because often when I disagree in my career, I’ve done it wrong. I’ve been told simply to hush. Because I don’t know what I’m talking about yet. Sometimes I am pulled into a meeting and corrected.

I’m not great at talking about myself, and I am a rambler. I should be more succinct. I should have been more succinct. It would have allowed for deeper questions. Maybe I should have taken a Xanax those two interview days, but I wanted a sharper edge - not the fluffy girl who gets by easy, cloud-like in her glory.

I emailed the hiring manager today asking for a timeframe of when I might expect to hear about next steps. She had not responded to my previous emails of follow-up questions. She asked if I had some time this afternoon to chat.

So I’m sitting here, expecting a rejection. Anticipating this rejection. Oscillating between being zen about it, and coming close to tears the next minute. I am very good at internalizing “everything happens for a reason.” I am also very good at grieving. But I am so tired of being teased by the universe. I am tired of, with each rejection, re-committing to New York and re-realizing that I’ve put a band-aid over a sucking wound that this landscape cannot heal.

This is not the blog post I wanted to write. I had a dalliance on my vacation - I wanted to write you the beginning of a love story about mud flats and misty forests and really big dogs. I wanted to tell you maybe not a wife after all. I wanted to tell you about how you should only kiss sober, touch each other sober. Remember what potential feels like without the help of bourbon because I had it for days at a time.

They can’t say they want me. It’s only been three days. And when you ask for a timeframe response to hiring, they come back with a time frame, not “let’s chat.”

Let’s chat about my dreams for what you’re building. Let’s chat about moving vans and relocation assistance; let’s chat about the things I can’t allow myself to think about for the next three hours. Give me a timeframe. Please, give me a timeframe or welcome me home.

UPDATE: I did, in fact, not get the job. I failed in my success metrics and analytical capabilities, as I have failed in both those things for every job I have applied to. I am unsure where to go from here besides to business school, which is supposed to start on April 5th.

Positively Wrecked

Things with my mother are officially back to normal.

I know, because even though I'm a nervous wreck and stressed to the point of passing out about my MTEL on Friday, I was able to call mom.  We both said sorry and talked about our problems.  I sympathized with her recent illness and issues with her new doctor.  She listened and gave me good advice about my myriad woes - Some to do with finances, a lot to do with the MTEL, and more to do with the ridiculous social situations stressing me out and distracting me from studying.

So, I'm a total train wreck.  I'm sitting here, crying at my keyboard, in my pajamas.  Worried because in less than two days, I have to pass an English MTEL with nothing but a Theater degree, a personal driving interest in language and literature, and whatever flashcards I can come up with.  I am not prepared.  Over the last few weeks, I've managed to get into enough personal drama to make it impossible to concentrate on studying until these last few days.

On the other hand, I shouldn't worry.  I've never in my life had an issue with standardized tests.  I've never scored less than 80% equivalent on a bad day for any state-run standardized test.  English has always been my best and favorite subject. Theoretically, there is not a large chance of failure.

But I have a lot riding on this.  Something like the rest of my life and career of choice.
The MTEL costs one hundred and fifty dollars each time you take it, I have to pass the English MTEL to get accepted into grad school, and I have to take the standard Literacy & Communication MTEL as well.  I'm honestly not sure what I would do in the case of failure.  "Try, try again" is a lot easier said than done when the first try already puts you three hundred dollars in the hole on unemployment.

But I never really let much stop me before.  I really shouldn't start now.  So I'm going to finish my tea and take a shower.

Then I'm going to make some damn flash cards.

I'm a bad depressive citizen

A post by my favorite blogger:

http://www.theferrett.com/ferrettworks/2014/03/how-to-be-a-good-depressive-citizen/

Yeah. I'm depressed and my supposed emotional support network of friends and family has basically shut down. So I'm a bad depressive. I write about family issues on this blog because I feel I don't have any other outlet. Some of the communication breakdown was my fault.  I didn't want to call people I haven't seen in a long time only to dump my issues on them.

Some people have been great about this.  There are people on facebook that really helped me get back some perspective and talk things out with my mother.  The vast majority of comments have been positive and supportive.

With a few exceptions.

One supposed friend told me I was a horrible person to say anything in public about my mother.
Another friend decided that it was hurtful to her that I didn't want to personally dump all of my issues on her specifically, even though we talk less than a few times a year.

Fine. Maybe I've fucked up my life even further by taking the only avenue I felt was open to me. Maybe I've found out more about who my friends are.

There are some people I owe phone calls to.

Follow up on Family

I exchanged some emails with my mom about the racism argument from last week.  I'd been considering posting them here, but I feel like that would be a breach of her privacy.

Basically, I sent her an email explaining why I said what I did, and why her arguments shocked me.  She's replied that she and my stepfather see my point and apologized.

But then I had to raise the issue on what she said about me, personally.  Her response was to take a day to think about it, and then reply that she didn't know what she meant by it at the time.  But that she would never intentionally hurt me and doesn't think badly of me.

So I guess it works out.

Except that I still feel betrayed, and there's guilt mixed in there too.  Because I feel that she might think I don't have a right to feel this way at this point, after she's apologized, or might hold it against me.  Maybe she doesn't.  Maybe she wouldn't.  But after last week, I can't just blindly trust in her anymore.

Part of the issue is that at the end of the argument, she treated me like a child.  Telling me that if I didn't want dinner, I could wait in the car.  We were ten minutes from my house.  My mom and I tried to talk about this on the phone last night, and she seemed angry.  As if she couldn't understand how I would leave in that situation when she was being nice enough to give me a ride home from central MA in the first place.

But I'd asked her to take me straight home after the argument.  She could have stopped for dinner after dropping me off - only ten minutes away.  But she'd rather I wait in the car like a stubborn child or a dog while they had dinner, because I'd disagreed with her.

That's humiliating.  And she doesn't understand why I don't find it acceptable.  Yes, it was very kind of her to drive me home.  But that doesn't mean I become less of a human or less of an adult.

Now it's on me to decide what happens to our relationship.  How I want this to go.  Mom doesn't want anything to change.  She got upset when I said that this might have changed our relationship - How?

I don't know.

Family and Racism

We were in the car, a few miles down the road from Friendly's, about to stop for dinner on the way to dropping me at home.  My stepfather in back as a courtesy to my motion sickness, my mom driving, and me in the passenger seat. It was the start of rush hour and we narrowly avoided a collision with two other vehicles.  My mother and I exclaimed on the terrible driving and relief of safety when I heard from the back seat: "Other diver must have been a niggro".
"Really?" Me, shocked.
"What do you mean?"
"Did... did you really just say that?  That was really racist."
"Negro isn't racist, they say it."
"I don't care if they say it.  It's still racist.  And what do you mean they?  As far as I've seen, most black people don't like that word."
"Well are you sure they're black?  Are they African American?" asked my mom.
"What does that even matter?"

I couldn't believe I was having this conversation with my parents of all people. It didn't end there, and it did get uglier.  Eventually it was my mom that decided to make it into a personal attack.
"Are you ever wrong?  And do you admit it when you are?"
It was the way she said it.  As if I was purposefully instigating a fight so I could arrogantly assert my "rightness" - instead of trying to speak up to my parents on something that makes me incredibly uncomfortable.

Somewhere in there, my stepfather apologized and asked us to stop arguing.  I said thank you, but I'm trying to discuss this with my mom.  She tried to turn it into me being ungrateful for her care, and I realized that she really must think I'm that stuck up to be able to say things that way.  I wondered how long she'd thought that, and I asked her to just take me home.  She said they were going to dinner, and I could either come in or wait.
I didn't say anything.  What could I say that wouldn't make it worse?
When she parked the car, I got out and walked out of the parking lot and to the plaza across the street, and started calling friends to find a ride home.

I've always been really close with my mom.  She's always had very liberal and democratic views.  Hell, that's how I ended up the way I am.  She's only been with my stepdad for about six years, and he's always been republican and a little off-color.  But it wasn't until the both of them started trying to justify using the word "negro" that I realized that they just refused to listen that times might have changed since back in the day.  I honestly don't know how to deal with this, especially since my mom seems to have been holding me in veiled contempt for who-knows-how-long.

A friend tells me that benign or ignorance based racism  is a problem with baby boomers.  I just have a problem of my own.  Is there a way for my relationship with my mother to be repaired?  Or will it just devolve to nominal communication and uncomfortable holidays?

The Breeder vs Shelter Debate

To begin, I will always advocate getting a shelter dog, always. You will literally save a life by doing so. However, I know not all people are comfortable with the shelter decision, so I wanted to touch upon all of the options out there, when someone is considering adding a family member to the pack. This is for anyone who may not be educated on how some of these options work.

The biggest questions to begin with is, are you ready to have the dog anywhere from 8-16 years? They live a long time, and would like to spend all of that time with you. Do not drop them at the shelter when they turn gray because you just can't stand to see them deteriorate in their old age. It's not fair, and is heartbreakingly confusing to them. Do you have time to walk them several times a day? They are living animals. They need their exercise and stimulants just like you and I do. Plus, they live to spend time with you. You have your whole life, friends, work to occupy you. Your dog only has you. Be their friend. Are you financially stable enough to get them their yearly shots and checkups at the vet? Or buy their dog food every month? Every little thing adds up, and I think a lot of first time dog owners don't fully understand the cost of keeping your dog in the best health they can be in. If even one of these things doesn't work for you, then now is not the time to be looking for a dog.

If you are ready to get a dog after all of the considerations, then it is now time to figure out where to get them from. First, don't ever buy from pet stores. This only fuels their revenue, and keeps puppy mills in business. The puppy mills will continue to pump out puppies in poor health due to the torture of the poor parents that are tightly caged to breed them. The same can go for irresponsible, smaller breeders. Don't keep those kinds in business. It's a tough enough task to find loving homes for all of these "unwanted," unhealthy dogs as it is. We don't need them churning out any more. And when you purchase from them directly, you just fuel their business and continue the torture for those poor dogs that are stuck in that system.

The unfortunate reality of most puppy mills.

Now, I don't disagree with breeding entirely, but there is a huge difference between a puppy mill and a responsible breeder. And I understand that there actually are responsible, smart breeders out there, and I commend them for raising litters the right way. After all, we can't stop breeding dogs entirely. Without responsible breeders, there would be no more dogs. However, even if they are raised the right way, it does not guarantee that the new owners will do the same. There is a common misconception that any shelter dog has issues. It obviously is unwanted by the previous owner because it has a defect, or is aggressive, or it just "doesn't want to listen," right? I mean, why else would a perfectly healthy dog be in the shelter then? (Heavy sarcasm.) Well, in most cases, the cute puppy the couple bought for their kid got too big, and they don't want to deal with it anymore. Or, they are moving and their new residence doesn't allow dogs, or dogs of a certain weight, or dogs of a certain breed. Or, a couple bought the dog together, and now they broke up and neither wants to keep it on their own. Or, they have a baby and assume that the dog won't be safe around them. NONE of these reasons are due to any defect or attitude of the dog itself. The dog was just unwanted by a family they loved. And this goes for all types... Purebreds and mutts alike. It's amazing how many purebreds are found within rescues and shelters. It's an unfortunate misconception that only mutts are in shelters. (Although mutts are my favorite kind!)

**Here is a link to the AKC website for a list of RESPONSIBLE breeders**

https://www.akc.org/press_center/facts_stats.cfm?page=responsible_breeder

So the next time you think of purchasing from a breeder, do your homework. Are they responsible? Do they have any complaints? When you go see the puppies, do the conditions look healthy and safe? Really do your research.

But even before all of that... Please consider a shelter dog. Breeders will always find homes for their puppies, that I assure you. If you don't take them, someone else will, trust me. Not to mention, they are already in a home, and do not face the risk of being euthanized at any moment.

**Pet Finder is a wonderfully easy website to find dogs in your area by breed, sex, age, etc**

http://www.petfinder.com/

And if you just don't think you want to "risk it" with a shelter dog, consider going to a rescue at the very least, where the dog has been in a foster home and they can report more accurately on the dog's behavior and condition, if that is what worries you. When you pull a dog from a rescue, it frees up a spot for another dog in the shelter, to go to a loving, foster family environment until they find their forever home.

OH MY GOODNESS how can you say no to this face?!

But all of that aside... We rescued our Tiger boy from a shelter. He was picked up as a stray and went unnoticed in the shelter for THREE MONTHS before we came across him. We met him once, and he actually didn't want anything to do with us. (Don't expect an instant connection at the first meeting. Pay attention to volunteer notes from the shelter. The dog may just be shy, since this is their first time meeting you.) Fast forward two years later and he is currently curled up by my feet as I type this. He is always at my heel, so much so that I joke that we should've named him Shadow. The vet compliments him every time we go in, because he is in picture perfect health. He is the best, most mellow dog I have ever owned.

This is the actual photo of Tiger we saw on Pet Finder that made us go meet him!

I understand that Tiger's story may not be the same for every shelter dog out there. But I can tell you with certain confidence that a shelter dog will always, always love you. And isn't that the point of getting a dog anyways? To love something, and to be loved, unconditionally? I really believe a shelter dog knows they got a second chance... And they will love you until their last breath if you let them.

If there is any point to my crazy dog lady rambling, it's that I hope you make a smart choice when you purchase your new family member... whichever avenue you choose to go. And I would hope that you wouldn't turn your nose up to any of these options, as I truly hope that most of us are in for the common goal... To give a dog a loving home.

And if you are a huge softie, like I plan to be someday, open your home to those dogs who are less fortunate. An old face doesn't mean an old heart. No sight doesn't mean they can't see right through to your soul. Less legs doesn't mean that they won't run to you with all of their might when you come home. And no hearing doesn't mean they don't listen to what you say. These dogs need homes and love just as much, if you are willing to give it.

This is Emma, from "Everything Emma" on Facebook. She is unable to use her back legs, but have you seen her viral video on youtube when she dragged herself so excitedly across the hallway to see her daddy who just got home from Afghanistan?! Grab some tissues.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2317357/The-heartwarming-moment-disabled-dog-finds-special-burst-energy-drag-greet-Air-Force-owner-returning-Afghanistan.html

All in all, love can come in all forms from all different places. Please consider saving a life before you decide to go to a breeder. And if you still decide to go to a breeder, just please be smart about it.