Rant: Unresponsive companies

Dear JetBrains,

A little while ago, you mass-mailed us, your customers, to announce the imminent arrival of your new product, IntelliJ IDEA 9. As a user of your product, I was excited to upgrade! Your e-mail solicited inquiries for upgrade pricing, which wasn't published at the time. I duly responded with an e-mail inquiring about upgrading. Guess how many replies I've gotten from you? Let me give you a hint: it's the integer just before the first natural number.

Fortunately for me, I'm also a user of NetBeans. I am in fact a very happy user of NetBeans, which happens to be free. I also happen to get great support from my local Sun rep too.

Unfortunately for you, this means you're losing me both as a customer and advocate for your product. Losing a customer is bad enough. Losing a customer who was an enthusiastic advocate for your product is far, far worse. Word of mouth is still one of the main factors for a sale these days. All it takes for you to lose business is for people to not say anything at all.

I bought your product out-of-pocket because I liked what I saw at the time and wanted my own personal (non-corporate) copy. I still do like your product very much but I'm not willing to pay for it again when there is a perfectly acceptable alternative in NetBeans. With the economy being what it is, you have to work hard at keep your customers. Everyone has to these days.

With a fantastic IDE like NetBeans around, I had to take a hard look at whether to purchase an upgrade to your product. Your one chance to sway me was your upgrade offer, which you flubbed. Now, I just can't justify upgrading to your new product when I can get a perfectly acceptable and free alternative which is as full-featured as your premium offering.

Never ever ignore a customer who wants to give you money - if you can't even get that right, I don't trust you to make the tools for my work no matter how pretty they are.

Yours sincerely,
A Former Customer

Cost of living

I've been very introspective lately. I'm not entirely sure why but I suspect it's a side-effect of the days getting shorter. There was a time when the winter solstice was one of my favourite days...but that is no longer the case now that I can step into the light boldly.

With Christmas coming soon, carols are in the air. That always makes me melancholy because one of the things I had to give up for this life was singing. Don't get me wrong, I can still sing but it...would cause problems for me. Those of you who know me well will know exactly what I'm talking about.

I've never had formal training in voice nor can I really afford to right now. I'm not sure my voice is salvageable, to be honest. However, I'm taking some steps privately to see if I can do anything about it. All I will ever be is a throaty contralto but I will take what I can get.

I love singing. One of my fondest memories from childhood was listening to my mother singing to the radio as she went about her daily household chores. I started singing when I was very young but due to parental opposition, I never had a chance to train properly. Still, I joined every choir I could and those were very pleasant times. There is a comforting anonymity being just yet another singer in a choir. I was never good enough to be a soloist - those parts went to people who had trained hard, as it should be. Of all forms of music, I love a capella pieces - those are the ones that I truly cherish. There is something indescribably beautiful about the human voice in full song that sends shivers down my spine and tears to my eyes.

My life since about two and a half years ago has been songless. I feel as though there is a void in my soul because of it. I gave it up because it was the right thing to do, survival-wise. Now, in my current state, I'm going to reclaim that part of my life. I might not succeed but the alternative is definite failure if I did not at least try.

Continuance

I'm working from home today as I'm still having serious energy issues if I sat upright. It's going well - I can concentrate so much better here at home than in the noisy environment at work.

While prepping for lunch, my thoughts turned to one of the key factors of my childhood, the Sinclair ZX Spectrum 48K, my first true computer.

I spent so much time playing games on that machine that I can reliably say that I wasted practically years on it. On the other hand, I also did a lot of coding on it and if I hadn't had my good old Speccy, I'd not be the technophile I am today.

I downloaded an emulator and had an amusing time looking over some old favourites. In particular, I remember working at a computer store when I was younger and having to go to a tradeshow. Tradeshows are very noisy, as anyone who's ever been to one will attest to and I remember loading the demo Speccy with Equinox, which had a particularly catchy title tune...and guarding the Speccy from visitors to the booth while it's loading. You see, the Spectrum loaded its programs from tape. Yep, good old cassette tape. And it took forever to load. Sinclair Research decided to make interrupting the load sequence easy, by killing it if you pressed - you guessed it - the space bar (well, key) which also happens to be the largest key on the rubber keyboard. Ah...the joys of tape-based loaders.

As I laid there on my bed listening to the all-too-familiar strains of Equinox, it hit me - I can show my kids the emulator. Heck, I can build the emu on their netbook and set them loose on it. Hundreds of games. Built in BASIC. Colours (it was named the Spectrum for a reason). Okay, just 8 colours but hey, in those days, that was a lot.

Ah...the passing down of tradition from one generation to another.

I wonder if evolution allows for a technophilia selection path?

Micro-post: Finally!

I finished watching the miniseries adaptations of Frank Herbert's Dune, Dune: Messiah and Children of Dune by the SciFi channel (no, I'm not going to call it by its new name).

In one scene towards the end, the actor playing Stilgar really hams it up when he declares, "Summon the worms!!!"

Yes, it really takes three exclamation points to do his overacting justice.

I forgive him for hamming it up though. The poor guy spent practically the entire miniseries looking stern and asking whoever is in charge, "Shall I take his water?" (i.e. kill) whenever someone new comes on scene. Ironically, his big scene comes practically immediately after he's killed someone, the only person he "takes the water" of for the entire show. And he didn't even ask anyone if he could do it (as there was no one else in charge).

There's some witty comment that can be made about this, but not by me at 1am in the morning, unable to sleep and in pain.

Poor Stilgar. I feel like that actor sometimes. But at least he gets paid and has a cool Crysknife prop.

*sigh*

Recovering

I've returned from surgery in the US a few days ago. I'm still on painkillers, which prohibits me from driving or doing anything that might entail responsibility. I'm also desperately tired.

My sis accompanied me on this trip, as she did a year and a half ago. We argued, like two strong-willed women would, but in general we didn't try to kill each other (much) this time. I chalk it up as a success. Thanks, Sis.

I didn't realize just how badly damaged I was until today. I don't mean the surgery - it's the other scars I've accumulated from a lifetime's worth of surviving. Truth is, I don't know how to relax anymore.

I rested for most of yesterday. I'm on doctor's orders to be on strict bedrest. I think my body decided that she has me exactly where she wanted me...and launched a coup d'etat. Under new management, I've been in bed all day long, napping unpredictably and doing absolutely nothing.

It's nice.

There is a deep sense of peace and serenity. I haven't felt like this in a long time, except perhaps for my recent trip to Victoria. I don't think I know how to just shut down and recharge.

I'm trying to learn. Recovering from surgery doesn't exactly give me much of a choice. As I'm still in pretty bad shape and in quite a lot of pain, I think my plans to return to work on Monday may perhaps be unrealistic. We'll see, I guess.

Is this peace and serenity something I've lost all these years? If so, then a lot of my own personal brand of insanity makes more sense. Maybe the best Sanity Defence is to let go, literally, of the real world and sleep, perchance to dream.

Micro-post: connecting

I reestablished contact with an old dear friend over the weekend. We've known each other for eighteen, almost twenty years now. I lost touch with him when he moved last Christmas and my Apple Mail went belly-up, losing all my stored addresses in one go. Fortunately, I found an old e-mail with his address over the weekend and sent off a message.

Old friends are precious. They're a link to the past that, while it doesn't seem to be a big deal in day-to-day life, becomes important when you take stock. I take stock regularly which is probably why I make sure I ping my friends at least once every 6 months if possible.

Shutting the door

I closed off a few old e-mail accounts tonight, including one that was my mainstay up until about 3 years ago, when I switched over to the one I currently have.

It was hard.

It was hard not because I expected to use that account or that online identity again, but because there were a lot of feelings and memories associated with that account. My life chronicled in e-mails.

The thing is, I'm simply not that person anymore and I never will be again. Ever. It was time to archive my e-mails and close that account down. So, if you still have that address in your e-mail application, kindly delete it as it'll bounce from now on. If you haven't a clue what I'm talking about, don't worry as it obviously doesn't affect you.

Subconscious processing

I've started dreaming about dance quite consistently now. For most people, this would worry them but in my case, it's par for the course. When I get into something, I tend not to just dream about it but also have it working in my head while I'm doing other things, like a background process for all you systems-savvy folk.

There's been a particular piece of centrework that's been giving me grief for nearly a month now. No matter how I tried it, I just couldn't figure out what the right moves are. I dreamt about it last night and performed it flawlessly. When I work up this morning, I knew exactly what to do. Now, all I need is to practice, practice, practice.

I successfully did a releve in retire last night. I was elated as I have never been able to do that and stay upright. I could only hold it for a few seconds but the point is that I can do it...as long as I can visualize it first and completely forget that I'm doing it once I'm up.

Yes, some dancers are crazier than you can imagine, especially the half-baked students. :)

My legs are starting to ache and the pain level in one of my ankles is approaching the threshold I've set to be unacceptable. It's definitely bearable - I just don't want to injure myself by pushing too hard too fast. My dance conditioning book finally arrived from Amazon too, so now I have some idea of what to do.

I can do most of the practices now, excepting some of the ones that require a barre but that's coming too, and the ones that require a lot of jumping, like the saute. Onward and upward, hopefully. The alternative is onward and downward, which tends to be rather painful.

Bleeding on the Edge

I did my first combined stretching/Pilates/ballet practice tonight. I didn't manage to successfully complete the set as I felt extraordinarily tired. In the afternoon, I had some medical issues that put me out for a while and I think I'm still feeling the aftereffects of it. The thing is, all I wanted to do was to sleep and rest but I chose to push things to see if I could take the added strain. I could, but at a cost. I don't think I'll be repeating it again - next time something like this happens, I'm calling it quits and heading for bedrest.

Yes, I'm still on my diet. No, I haven't strayed away from it yet. My sis is unimpressed and thinks I'm making a mistake. She did have a good point though, that when something like what happened in the afternoon occurs, I impact the whole family, not just myself. I'm not willing to give up my goals, nor delay them too much; there has to be a solution that satisfies both. Something to think about at least.

Well, I've just finished my glass of milk and I'm exhausted so I'm going to bed. Oh, in case you've never had it, skim milk tastes horrid.

Lost...and found (Part 3)

The doubts are creeping in now. I'm a terrible dancer. I'm uncoordinated. I've no feel for the music. I have serious balance issues. I'm too old. I'm overweight. And the list goes on and on.

Fortunately, the INTENSE PAIN in my feet is focusing me somewhat.

No, I'm not pushing too hard. Just getting serious about it.

I received the authorization from my sis to purchase a mirror and a barre today. So I swung by IKEA after work and bought a large Stave mirror. My sis had originally suggested the Hemnes but the frame was quite thick. Fortunately, IKEA stores have these paper measuring tapes so I went around measuring the actual mirror area of their selection instead. Yes, I'm that picky.

Trying to fit said mirror into my car was a bit of an adventure but I didn't name her the Hypercube for nothing. I got the mirror home and set it up temporarily in the living room.

My word, it's big! I tried out a few battement tendus in first with both legs and I still fit completely in the frame throughout. Ballet class is so hectic that I rarely have a chance to see what I'm doing in the hall mirror. Now that I can watch myself, I'm starting to understand where my errors are and correcting them. Whether I'm correcting them properly is to be determined - I guess I'll find out in the next class.

I'm still a terrible dancer but now I can see my mistakes in glorious full-colour 2D! To be honest, it's rather depressing and when I'm depressed, I tend to eat unhealthy things. Tonight, I haven't had anything unhealthy. Watching my sis eat her ice cream was...challenging. But I stood firm.

Gods, I'm hungry. No, I'm not starving myself - I've had very unhealthy eating habits lately and am correcting them. I'm hungry not because I'm hungry but because I'm used to a nighttime snack. That needs to stop and it has.

I'm trying to work out a way to purchase a barre for home practice (thanks, sis!). I'm of two minds about this as there are contradictory opinions about whether practicing at home is a good idea or if it'll promote bad habits that are hard to correct. However, my balletmistress is exhorting us to practice at home so I'm going to follow what she says.

I've come to the awareness that I'm obsessing over this. As I was mentioning to my sis, I've gotten through life by assessing matters then choosing the best course of action. It's gotten me pretty far in life doing that. This time, however, thinking about things isn't going to help. Either I can dance properly and well, or I can't. Intelligence has nothing to do with it at all. This...makes me uncomfortable as I have never done well when it comes to physical activities. My instinctive response is to assess matters then choosing the best course of action...which eventually loops around into an obsession. This too shall pass, when I either get tired of gravity having its way with me, or if I actually start dancing properly.

We shall see where this goes, I suppose.

Lost...and found (Part 2)

I had left a voicemail message with the School's examinations coordinator but have yet to receive a reply. I understand that this is a very busy time for them so her lack of response isn't a surprise. However, I'm impatient so I cheated. :)

I called up the Canadian office that coordinates and administers dance examinations. There, I was fortunate enough to speak to a very lovely lady who not only answered all of my questions but also suggested how I could get around some administrative difficulties that I might encounter. Plus, she was very encouraging which was something I really needed to hear right about now.

Oh, and the verdict is in: older adults can and do take ballet examinations for grading and certification so the Dream is on! The exams are not invite-only per se but they might as well be; my ballet mistress has to judge that I'm a suitable candidate with the requisite level of skill to take the exam first and then she has to recommend me for the test itself. This means that I have to work - hard - to impress my ballet mistress and that's going to be tough. I just found out today that she's one of the top ballet instructors in Canada and has been practicing the art of ballet for longer than I've been alive. She was the prima ballerina for the Royal Winnipeg Ballet, holding that position for nearly a decade. In short, there is no chance I'll make it to the exams unless if I'm really good.

Colour me intimidated. :(

Plus, it's more difficult for us older folk as we're nowhere near as limber as younger folk. As I'm not planning to be a professional dancer, it's not an issue for me. I'm just looking for clear, definitive milestones on my progress as well as a structured education in classical ballet. It'll be nice if I get to perform on stage sometime but I'm not holding my breath. That, and I need to pass the exams first!

I'm excited and feeling tingly all over. This is the first time in decades where I'm doing something just for me that's motivated by fun instead of some serious reason or need. One of my friends think I'm nuts for doing this. It's going to be a long, gruelling road filled with pain, frustration, disappointment and probably a fair amount of tears. And I consider this fun? As a matter of fact, I do. I've come to accept the fact that I'm still very goal-driven and will probably always be so. I hesitate to claim that I'm an overachiever but success is definitely attractive to me. I'm used to success more often than not. I'm also used to a lot of pain and suffering as being the cost to achieve success.

I've had a chance to look through quite a few different forums and not surprisingly, most dancers who start when they're adults fail to go beyond recreational dancing. However, that's due to the fact that they never tried or gave up too soon. Of those who try, most of them fail to make the cut. I know that the odds are stacked against me; I can't let myself consider the possibility of failure because if I did, my resolve will crumble. Call it self-delusion if you will, but I intend to give this Dream a decent go at it, regardless of the odds.

There's a little voice in my head reminding me that I've never been good when it comes to physical matters, not where it counts. The last time I exerted myself in any serious physical activity was back in my university days when I fenced, which was nearly twenty years ago. Furthermore, my health is recovering from the complications of last year (good!) but I'm still fragile right now (not so good). I'm not motivated to take aerobics or other sports. Therefore, dance may just very well be my ticket back to good health once more.

I know here's a lot to do and many challenges to overcome. I've drawn up a practice plan for both my barre exercises and centrework. Practice started today. I'm still terrible at dance: I am the poster girl for proving that gravity works. But I will get better. I hope to someday be that graceful creature that I'm striving to become.

Lost...and found

Yesterday, I drove up to Edmonton and for my last visit with the medical case officer who has been in charge of the treatment for my Condition. It was a pleasant but emotional visit and at the end, he gave me a hug and wished me well. After three long years, my case is now administratively closed as I'm cured.

I felt very lost and alone. For all those years, I had at least one doctor watching out for my well-being. In fact, it ended up being a cadre of doctors who coordinated amongst themselves to ensure that I had the best treatment possible. I can't say that I wasn't frustrated or that I agreed with their treatment plan all the time but it was obviously the right one. Now, I'm done - the last medical link to the Condition is now gone. I'm officially cured. Wow.

Now what do I do?

The obvious answer is to live this life that I have worked so hard to claim. I'm very goal-driven though and now, I have no major life goals left as my last one was "Get Cured from Condition". It troubled me deeply on the drive home and I had to stop several times to regain my calm.

The ballet class did its magic and purged me of a lot of the more negative emotions like despair. When I finally got home, I was very depressed but my sister (bless her heart) sat down with me and tried to cheer me up. Long story short, I went to bed still feeling very lost and confused.

When I woke up this morning, I was still feeling lost and confused and it remained that way for most of the day. So I did what was familiar and took stock of where I was and the possible future paths that I could follow. It kept coming back to the same two possbilities over and over again: resume my M. Sc. program in astrophysics...or I could study ballet and see just how far I can go.

Taking astrophysics again was very tempting. I'm already well down that path and there's a possibility of employment in that field when I'm done. Very bad pay compared to what I'm doing now but at least it's a job. Plus, there's a certain sparkle, an almost deliciously intimidating je ne sais quoi to astrophysics because it's considered to be really hard. It's not, really. Lots of hard, boring work though. And I've learnt so much from my studies. I can definitively say that since I started my studies in this field, I have understood far more about everyday, applicable science than I have at any other time. The kids are indirectly benefiting from it as well as their aunt is now well-prepared to answer their questions about the world around them, no matter how zany the question may be.

I'm a very poor dancer and I have virtually no stamina. I'm uncoordinated, untrained and old enough to be the mother of most of the kids in my adult ballet class. Older adults aren't really welcome in the ballet world; the adult ballet class is the only class that is never put on stage by the School. We're not expected to ever be good enough to perform and I can see why. It'll never translate into a paying job, not for someone as old as I am. In short, this should remain a hobby and nothing more. I've got 10 months of ballet classes already paid for and I'll follow through with it.

Taking all those factors into account, I think that choice is pretty clear, don't you think?

Yes, I'm choosing the path that will allow me to learn ballet.

Why? Astrophysics is very cerebral and I will always take the opportunity to learn more about it. It's the "right" and "smart" choice. However, ballet is an exacting art that requires graceful coordination to do correctly, let alone well. I have never been graceful and may never ever be graceful. However, I won't know until I try.

Art and beauty trumps hard science any day for me now. I suspect that I may have fallen on my head sometime in the last dance practice.

I've left a voicemail with the examinations coordinator at the School. I know that there are adults taking the Cecchetti examinations but I have heard that the examinations are also invite-only. In other words, my ballet mistress has to be a certified Cecchetti instructor and she has to think that I'm proficient enough to take an exam. I'm hoping that the examinations coordinator isn't going to slam this door in my face by flatly denying adults, any adults from taking the exams.

Yes, grading and exams are important to me in this area. I wish to have proof that I'm doing well in it as opposed to it being "recreational". It may still end up being recreational...but I would like to see just how far I can push myself in this over the next few years.

No, I'm not lost anymore. Just insanely optimistic.

Cresting the wave

In a previous life, I would take out my Dobsonian every clear night to indulge in some stargazing. Oftentimes I would set her up in the verandah of our hacienda-style apartment in California and just watch the stars rise in the eastern sky, like the little bumps on a music box drum, each adding its song to the music of the heavens. Other times, I would take my 'scope out to the middle of the apartment courtyard where I had a 360 degree view of the sky.

I saw my very first deep sky object in that courtyard. I'd been hunting for it diligently for some time that night and kept missing it because I didn't recognize it amidst all the shining stars. I still remember the joy and wonderment of that moment even after so many years.

Then the sprinklers would come on. 2:03am every morning, +/- 2 minutes. It was a surprise the first time around but after that I would move my 'scope back to the verandah in good time before the deluge.

It's odd, remembering these moments of a past life. There was a time when I could only remember the bad parts because as we all know, successes are fleeting but failures are forever. I have many regrets about my past life and a lot of guilt associated with it, sometimes to unhealthy and debilitating levels. But since my Victoria trip, I've had more good memories than bad ones. I'm also regaining my ability to perceive probable futures and take action to nudge matters towards an acceptable end. It doesn't always work but I refuse to be a passive rider of the timestream that is our reality.

I'm also starting to have a passion for something: ballet. Yes, I've had other passions too, like science education and gourmet cooking. This is unusual in that this is first real passion of my new life that is strictly introverted - no one benefits from it other than me. This means that I'm either getting more selfish, or starting to take an interest in my own happiness. I hope it's the latter.

Perhaps my sis is right, that I'm finally healing. I hope so because being a basketcase is not fun at all.

Not many people are given a second chance. I'm blessed to have that and doubly blessed to have my sis and the kids still with me. I'm hoping not to mess this life up too.

Dancing at the Edge of Mediocrity

I had my second ballet class last night so predictably, I am in considerable pain today. I'm woefully out of shape. Usually, physical activity ends up with the net effect of relaxing me as I'm too tired to stress out on other things. This, unfortunately, is different. I'm deeply dissatisfied with my form and balance. This will require a lot of practice to correct. Time will tell as to whether I have the self-discipline to improve or if I will settle for mediocrity.

I am given to understand that this attention to detail and the perfectionism is not unusual among dancers and that I'm fitting rather well. To my amazement, I've found a pursuit where my perfectionist streak is not only the norm but practically required. Where precision and uniformity is part of the art.

I'm home, at long last! :)

Oh, and I learnt to polka last night. Looking in the mirror that spans the entire width of the room, we didn't look half bad as dancers go...until we started moving. But we did make a straight line at the beginning, for all of 10 seconds before it started turning Escheresque. Towards the end, we didn't resemble a ballet class as much as human dodgems.

I joined ballet because I wanted to move through space with the grace and poise that dancers have in their movements. Last night was the first time that I realized just how incredibly far I am from that goal. *sigh*

Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying the class considerably but it's making my joints pop in very new and probably bad ways. About 3/4 into the class yesterday I started feeling my heart skipping beats. Towards the end, I had difficulty maintaining my balance as we've been practicing for a solid 90 minutes, at a tempo not unlike vigorous aerobics. Yes, folks - my balletmistress doesn't kid around.

I'm loving it to death. Hopefully not literally.

Acceptance

I had a really good chat with my Mom tonight. Ever since I came to Canada, we've chatted at least once a month until my Dad passed on. It's been a little sporadic since then but we've done well in keeping in touch recently.

Looking at it from my mother's perspective, she's had a lot happening in her life over this past decade. All her kids got married. She had her first grandchildren. She saw her children divorcing, reconciling, parting ways and all the drama that comes standard with an extended family spread around the world. Then my Dad succumbed to cancer. Her house has been put up for sale, then not put up for sale and I'm not sure what the current status is anymore. About two years ago, she gets a phone call from me about my Condition. She took it well but it was obvious that it's so far beyond her realm of understanding that it'll take her a while to digest it.

I've been patient. I've been away for so long and changed so much that while I'm aware that I'm not who I was and my mother isn't who she was, I don't think it's really sunk in for her. Her last mental snapshot of who I was was over twenty years ago. I have seen my life changing as I moved from city to city, all the way up until now, helping raise the kids with my sister. Meanwhile, she's still in the same house that she's been living in for nearly forty years. It's hard to grasp change when you're anchored in familiarity.

I had a good time in Victoria recently and snapped quite a few photos. I've always been very camera-shy but never really figured out why until just a few years ago. Now that I'm happy with who I am, I don't mind photos at all. So when my brother asked for one of me, I looked through my Victoria photos and sent him one of the better shots. He's been trying to get that photo to my mother but haven't been able to travel much due to the H1N1 threat in that part of the world. However, he did manage to stop by my Mom's place and drop off the photo last week.

For the first time in many years, my Mom saw an up-to-date photo of me, of which there were precious few until now. I think it must have made real that which she had previously just heard of on the phone and from my brother.

Tonight, for the first time since I told her about my Condition and what the impact of the cure would be, she unequivocally and clearly accepted who I am now.

She told me she's proud of me for overcoming all the challenges, disadvantages and prejudice I've faced to become who I truly am. She's never said that, ever.

I think I'm going to enjoy this warm happy rare glow for a while.

Why?

As I've mentioned in a previous post, I've realized that I'm over-committed in the responsibilities I've taken on and will be discarding some of them in an attempt to achieve balance.

I don't believe in leaving any decent and friendly group without saying goodbye. In one of those groups, I was there for one last gathering with the understanding that I shan't be returning. I generally get along with most of the people there but have found one particular woman to be unpleasant. Let's call her Mrs. A. It's also obvious that I'm not the only one who feels that way. In that last gathering, she took numerous verbal shots at me. I don't think she disliked me or anything as it was normal behaviour for her. I didn't return fire but it did get me thinking: why are people unpleasant when there is no obvious good return for such action?

It's not just this Mrs. A either. I've found one of the office administrators at my new job to be officious and petty. I get that that's just how she is. However, she's certainly not making any friends in the office; her brown-nosing isn't going to get her very far when the current group of managers move on to other sites and the people she's cheesed off move up into positions of authority. I'd give her a couple of years, max, before she gets dismissed from her job.

Actually, I think I do understand the office admin a little more than Mrs. A. Some people are insecure or mean enough to sling their power around, such as it is. Heaven knows, I've done it when I was growing up - I was by no stretch of the imagination a compassionate prefect at my school. It didn't win me many friends but I learnt a lesson from that. It took me nearly a decade and a medical crisis to really learn it, but I did learn. This office admin however...is pretty much my age and acting like she's in high school. That part, I don't get. It definitely doesn't do anything for her survivability in this economy.

Mrs. A confounds me. There is zero percentage in cheesing me off. The smart thing to do is to be nice to people leaving, or at least to not be so rude to them. I get that this is what she is but surely she must see that she's offending people. On the other hand, Mr. A is her diametric opposite - he's one of the smarter, nicer people around. Even though he holds his own against Mrs. A, most of us feel sorry for him. If she and her husband split up, I daresay that she'll find herself quite alone very quickly. I'm pretty sure she knows that but she's still barreling down this self-destructive path.

When I'm doing something stupid, and I mean really stupid, there's a part of me screaming for me to stop and reassess. In the past, I've ignored that part of me and gone barreling down that self-destructive part too. Recently, I've started listening to that part and halted what I was doing. I'm not successful in doing that all of the time but I think I'm getting a little better at it. I can't think of how many familial arguments I've had where I've realized in the middle of it that I'm just being stupid in pushing it further. To the one person in particular that I've done this to most: please come see me for a heartfelt apology. I can be really mean and dumb sometimes and I'm sorry.

I grok my own personal "Why?" situation. I've got a ways to go yet. I'm sure that all these other folks do too - I hope that people aren't that tunnel-visioned and arrogant. As strange as it seems, I wish them well. Their path leads to loneliness and despair. I've been on that path; there but by the grace of the gods go I. Nobody deserves that fate.

Masochism

I never realized how good pain felt until tonight. I've known many things about myself but it's time to come clean: I am a masochist.

But only when I'm in ballet class.

Yes, folks - I've signed up for ten months of ballet. I don't think I really understood what that meant until now. I hurt all over. Literally. It even hurts to type. However, I know from past experience that this is nothing - the real pain will come tomorrow when I wake up. This will be going on for ten months. Every week.

But it feels so good!

Ow.

Ow.

Ow.

*big grin*

Through the veil, clearly

I had always been an inquisitive child, pondering Gedanken experiments as I lay in bed trying to fall asleep amidst the sound of the television in the next room. Perpetual motion machines, the variability of the speed of light, the heat-death of the universe, quantifying infinity - these were all things I had mulled over as a child, not that I truly understood many of the concepts and science involved.

I was an odd child.

One of the things I thought about was whether or not what we sense is really what other people sense. In other words, is what I call red really the same red that you see? Oh, I understand that 650 nanometres is 650 nanometres - I'm not disputing the wavelength of red light. What I'm referring to is not the physical aspect but rather the neurological interpretation of the natural world. What if what Marmite tastes like to me in my head is what you would interpret in your head as the taste of cream cheese? Would that make you understand better why I would like that particular sandwich spread? But we'll never know because each and everyone of us are prisoners trapped within our own minds - unless if we're telepathic, we won't really know what's happening in the other person's skull.

Switching topics briefly, I've been an avid reader all my life but up until recently, my reading material comprised astrophysics textbooks, technical journals, the D&D sourcebooks and the occasional novel or two. Recently, I've started reading romance novels again. The last time I read one was back in secondary school, whenever the occasional Mills and Boon showed up on the contraband items pile in the prefects' room. It was a welcome break from the tedium of schoolwork but I've never really felt anything. Actually, I've never felt anything from any book; I'd want to see how things developed but never truly identified with any of the characters in there.

Until now.

I'm not entirely sure what's causing this radical shift in perception but for the very first time, I can identify with some of the characters in certain novels. I suspect my current treatment plan and the medications that are causing neural remapping are the cause. I'm not complaining though.

Around the middle of last year, I was at a Barnes and Noble in the US with a friend as were attending a conference together. Now, you have to understand that B&N stocks a far more extensive range of books than the local chain bookstore, so I called my sis and asked her if she wished me to pick anything up for her. She rattled off a list of authors and I dutifully hunted for them. The only one I could find was a book by Jacqueline Carey. I picked it up only to find out that it's the 2nd book of the 2nd trilogy after I had returned home.

You have to understand that when I'm looking for something for someone, I'm quite tenacious in hunting it down. I eventually found the first book of the first trilogy and gave that to my sis.

She didn't read it. So I did.

I read for about a couple of chapters before I put it down. It was boring. Fast forward a few more months and I'm in the midst of bedrest following surgery. I was bored silly one day so I picked up the novel and started reading it from the start again.

This time, I was enraptured by it. I'm not sure what was different betweem the first and the second reading but I could relate to the heroine, so much so that for the first time in my life, I felt her emotions as the plot unfolded. It's the very first book that made me cry. It still does. Mind you, my body was undergoing some pretty massive changes as I was recovering from major surgery that permanently changed my endocrine system, so my guess that the neural remapping was to blame isn't entirely without merit.

Fast forward about a year later and I'm mentioning the latest book from the same author to a friend of mine, who snickered and said that I was the last person she'd imagine would like books "like that". I blinked. Yes, the novel was saucy...if you read it for that purpose. I started off with zero expectations and found the first series to be a delightfully touching love story with a surprisingly strong and resilient female lead who never lost her femininity even as history unfolded around her. Unfortunately, most people can't get past the sauciness and see the story that the author is attempting to convey. Ironically, in this series the more adult scenes were an integral part of the storyline as opposed to a titillation hook (the protagonist is a hetaera and her companion is a warrior priest sworn to celibacy). Disappointingly, I also appear to be the minority as practically everyone I've spoken to seems to be hung up of the notoriety of that series.

Coming full circle, no, I can't be sure that what I see as red is the same red as you see, or that what I taste is what you taste. However, in the case of the Kushiel's Legacy series, I can say with reasonable confidence that I'm feeling that which the author is trying to convey in her story.

We're still locked inside our own heads when it comes to our senses. However, we can still share emotions through something as simple as printed words.

And that makes the existence within our own little skulls a little less lonely, don't you think?

p.s. If you do read that series, for Pete's sake, try to read the story as a whole instead of getting stuck in the more steamier scenes. Trust me, the storyline is worth it.

Once more onto the breach...

Today I flew out to meet with one of my three surgeons who will be operating on me. I've been up since 4am and spent most of today on my feet. I'm dead tired but my insomnia preventing me from sleeping, as it normally does when I'm under high stress.

I've been compiling a list of questions to ask the doctor for several months now. It turns out that I did forget one mid-level question but it went quire smoothly otherwise.

We discussed my concerns then he did a medical exam to see what needed to be done. As it turns out, a fair bit will need to be improved upon. Fortunately, he's one of the top surgeons in North America. He charges quite a bit but you do indeed get what you pay for, which is going to take some fancy footwork on our part to stay on budget.

The thought of going under the knife again fills me dread; I've been very stressed out about this lately, as my sympathetic sister will attest to. This is one of three surgeries soon, all of which I'm stressed out about but for different reasons. For one thing, this operation is considered "elective" surgery.

Is this life-threatening? No. Can I live with it? Now, that question is one which I'd been pondering for nearly a year now and I think the answer is No.

For most of my life, I've been at a disadvantage compared to most other folks around me. I wasn't the firstborn in my family, which immediately relegated me as being as Spare, not the Heir. My birth country had some interesting laws, which puts those like me at a serious disadvantage when it came to commerce and finance - let's leave it at that. Coming to Canada, it took me ages to earn my citizenship so I was barred from quite a few opportunities. Suffice to say that had I been allowed the chance to pursue any one of those career choices, my life would be very different today. Then, there was my Condition. Now, that one was a doozy.

To a certain extent, I think that the disadvantages served to cheese me off enough that I put in a lot more effort than most others, partly to compense and partly because of my competitive streak. So, I'm not really whining here about my life but merely stating some known facts. However, my Condition wasn't something I can put any effort into - the only real choice I had was to seek treatment...or not. Both options carry different but significant costs. It wasn't something I could have done alone. If it hadn't been for the love and support of my family, I don't think I'd have come this far, or even be alive today.

Am I grateful that I what I have today? Let me see...I'm leading a normal life these days insomuch as someone with my background can consider as normal. I'm far happier, I've finally found that I fit society and I have a closer relationship with my family than I've ever had. So I should be fine now, yes?

Umm...not quite. Things still aren't quite right and I need to get it settled and closed. Do I need surgery for this? Yes. Mind you, if I hadn't had the wherewithal to save up enough to get it done, I'd probably have tried to fix things myself with a sterilized scalpel. In fact, it's a good thing I didn't as one of the things that was causing me pain was in fact a permanent suture from a previous surgery. What finally made me realize that this "elective" surgery wasn't exactly elective for me was the very fact that I had contemplated, more than once mind you, performing it myself.

That is most definitively not sane, which worries me significantly. So, I'm going to go through with this and the other two surgeries sometime in the next year or so. In the meantime, I'm going to do some deep soul searching to find out why this matters so much to me although I think I already know: those of you who know me well are also aware of my perfectionist streak which is probably why I'm feeling the way I'm feeling right now.

Rude Awakening

Have you ever had that moment of sudden clarity as you realized something basic and unpleasant about yourself for the first time? One in which you realize, aghast, that it's been going on for years?

I was getting ready to go to bed tonight and I usually take my medications just before I turn off the light. As I opened my pill case, it struck me that there's an awful lot of pills in there. Looking up, I saw perhaps with perfect clarity for the first time, that there's a small city of pill bottles towering over the usual mess on my study tabletop. My nasal spray stands out like the dorsal fin of an orca amongst the shorter bottles, distinctive yet slightly menacing. I've never been as creeped out by my meds as I was tonight.

On my bed to one side, there's a small family of plush animals and I realized that roughly half of them were gifted to me when I was on a hospital bed or trying to recover from surgery. Hanging like a necklace over my largest teddy bear was my chest sensor for my heart monitor.

Dear gods in heaven, have I really been that sick?

I think I'm getting healthier. I hope I'm getting healthier. I believe I'm happier when I came back from Victoria in June. I had some major issues resolved and for the first time since my last surgery, I could look forward with a lighter heart towards the future.

I've been on medications for a long time now and will be on some of them for the rest of my life as my body no longer produces certain things that keep me sane and alive. I'm hoping to be off one of my meds come spring of next year. My nasal spray...will probably require more tests before I can come off it. As for the rest, I guess I'm stuck with them forever.

The irony of it all was that two years ago, I had to fight to even have these medications prescribed to me. I remember this one very low point in my life when I despaired of ever receiving the medical care and treatment I needed for my Condition. As I look at those three round pills in my pill case, one set per day, I realize that I'm actually quite fortunate to be receiving the medical care that I have right now. I'm also uncomfortably aware that I'd better have a good prescription plan for the rest of my life.

I hope to be able to see the kids happily marry and have children of their own. Continuity of the family is something very important to me. However, I realize that I had to take better care of myself if I would like to have a chance of seeing that day.

Gods, I feel old.

Dumping ballast

As expected, a lot of things have happened in the past two months since my last entry. Among other things, my sis won two more international awards in her costuming (she's already got four) and the whole family was there to cheer her on. She's done us proud - you go, girl!

I've found another job, one that isn't management. I'm back in the trenches getting my hands dirty with code. Honestly, with the economy being what it is, returning to the technical track is probably the smartest move for me right now. I'm seeing managers being laid off left, right and centre. Returning to a coding position feels very much like a homecoming of sorts. I'd say that it's rather like coming home to live at your parents' house after being away for years. The room looks and feels the same, but everything's smaller and feels less vibrant unlike when you were a child. I doubt I can stay long at my coding position - I'll be gunning for a managerial posting once the economy's recovered somewhat. I do love my new company though - it's huge and appears to have many opportunities for advancement.

I'm spending more time with the kids these days, something I've been trying to do for a long time but haven't due to lack of time. I'm realizing that it's a load of crock. If I really wanted to spend time with the kids, I could. I just need to prioritize them higher. I'm also grossly overcommited in my personal life. It's time to pare things down to a sane level. This probably means stepping down from some of my volunteer positions and quitting D&D for a while.

I've opened up some new avenues of interest, ballet being one of them. I've signed up for 9 months of ballet with the premiere ballet school in the province - may the gods have mercy upon my soul (and limbs). I'm excited and scared at the same time. It's going to be painful but oh so cleansing. Aside from ballet, I'm also actively pursuing other activities from time to time. It's cheaper than therapy. :)

My health is slowly getting better. I think my solo vacation in June was the turning point. I'm a firm believer that if your mind isn't healthy then the body will be ill as well. My June vacation gave me a chance to get my head screwed back on right. Balancing my improving health is my new job - it's a lot more physical than I've had in over a decade, so I'm deathly tired by the end of the day. The one thing that's still lacking is stamina. I don't appear to be improving in that regard. I'm hoping that ballet will help with that, and that I shall be able to sign up for a Pilates class once finances improve.

Oh, and I picked up a Waterman Charleston in ivory with a Fine nib. Paired with my Private Reserve Plum ink, it's given me the impetus to journal again, which has been a real stress reliever in the past little while. Too bad my Paperblank journal doesn't seem to take fountain pen ink well. I shall have to find another journal when I've filled this one, perhaps something by Clairefontaine.

Yes, I'm an expensive gal. Deal with it. :)

I ain't dead yet!

No, I haven't gone off with someone who TALKS LIKE THIS quite yet. On the other hand, I'm not ready to blog about what's going on right now. So, this is a placeholder for those of you who are wondering if your RSS feed is still working with my blog (and you know who you are).

More later, I promise.

A Week at the Improv

I've been on holiday recently, the first real holiday I've had in a long while. I wasn't planning on going but my Sis insisted and made it possible for me to go - thanks, Sis!

A lot of bad things had happened in the past year and I needed to heal, so I took it easy for this trip. As I enjoy cooking, I found a B&B that had a kitchenette in one of its suites so I booked my entire stay there.

The B&B was gorgeous with a private flower garden and all. Just the environment for me to sit down, relax and heal.

However, I realized that I had a wee bit of a challenge when I started cooking - I had one small frying pan + one saucepan (both lidless), a spatula, two shakers of salt and pepper...and nothing else except what I packed in my knife roll. You don't really appreciate how important lids are until you have to make do without them.

So, I had to improvise. When it came time to make steamed rice (which required a lid), I used one of the large plates. I discovered that grocery stores sold single sticks of butter - exactly what I needed for cooking fish and shellfish. For spices, I bought this multispice pack for camping ($4) that gave me most of what I needed. The local in-store deli at the grocers' had a boxed sushi collection, so I got a couple of packets of soy sauce from them (I asked the lady at the counter for permission first).

Everything else was food. And oh my, what fresh food it was!

I rediscovered my love for fruit. I used to love fruit growing up but edged away in favour of processed foods upon coming to Canada. Now, I'm re-experiencing the joy and wonderment that comes from having very juicy, very fresh local fruits explode with flavour in one's mouth. I also learnt to cook with it too; as I had no sugar, I snuck a few packets out from cafes when I got coffee there.

Fresh salmon, large scallops, fresh locally-grown organic strawberries...mmm! My mouth still waters at the memory of those wonderful fresh foods. I also found out that mushrooms, one of my favourite foods, will cause a massive flare-up of a stress-related condition of mine, which means that I shall have to avoid them in the future. *sigh*

Plus, I got to try edible flowers for the first time. Tasty and beautiful!

I came away from that vacation with some healing and respite from the negative events in the past year. On my final night there, I wrote over twenty pages in my journal. The hurt and fear had to come out and I finally pinned them down on paper. I hope I shall be free of them now. The scent of lilacs now has a very calming effect on me - my suite was filled with their fragrance when the windows were open and they have become inextricably linked to my stay there.

But that was not the only thing I came away with from that vacation; I also feel rejuvenated in my passion for cooking. Not only did I have the chance to work with fresh ingredients, I also had a chance to partake of my innkeeper's excellent breakfasts (she's a chef) as well as one fine dining establishment. I returned home from my holiday with a head full of ideas and a laptop full of notes. Oh, and a wonderful plum-coloured ink that is now my primary colour for journal-writing!

I tried some of my new techniques tonight. I was happy to see that it worked out rather well. Must experiment more...

The Devil You Don't Know

My career at my current place of employment is going nowhere. They've effectively exiled me to a second-line team and ordered me to get rid of them. They've made plans for me after the team has been let go but it's a situation even worse than what I'm doing right now.

Note to self when in senior management: Never assume your direct reports are as dumb or myopic as you are.

I have a really good guess as to what the company is trying to do but I can't say anything about it. Suffice to say that it doesn't involve the continued employment of effective front-line managers like myself. Everyone competent in middle-management has either been exiled (like me) or laid off. The other clueful managers and I have semi-regular closed lunches where we share intel and our data points to the same conclusion which we all arrived at simultaneously.

All of us have been hunting for other employment for a while now. I've had a few nibbles, all of which I've turned down because of...irregularities between what they say and what I'm gathering from other, more trusted sources. The I.T. industry in my city is quite large but we're also quite provencial - it's a small town where everyone knows someone who knows you.

Until recently, that is. There is a decent possibility that I may land a job with a company on solid financial footing that's smack in the middle of my core competencies. It's at a point where I have to seriously consider the case this may be my next employer. I was in cloud nine until I poked a little deeper and some concerns started popping up, enough that I had a nasty bout of insomnia last night over it.

It's a highly conservative company. Highly. Conservative. It's a great company if you're a certain type of employee. It's also one where you don't want to stick out too much above your paygrade. This is by no means a deal-breaker; in fact, I know my way around conservative companies very well. Given the current economic situation, it's a very good employer indeed - I'm grateful that I'm managed to come this far in the interview process. Of course, I hope to be fortunate enough to land the actual job! The norm is that I just need to keep my mouth firmly shut, my head down and go from objective to objective, hoping that I get promoted.

Unfortunately, that's not me anymore. It was me about 5 years ago but it's definitely not my style any longer. Oh, I'll keep my mouth shut - I understand that I can give the most endearing smiles that way. But being safe? Being safe is like refusing to fly, staying in the mud on the ground because you're afraid of falling.

I took a big risk some years back. It's been tough, but at least now I have moments of happiness and these moments are starting to increase in frequency. I'm not going to be stupid about this new position (if I get it) but being in my new role (post-change), I can't afford not to be seen. To hunker down and do work quietly is to be ignored. I have to strike a balance between techincal competency and management visibility. I have to be seen as very knowledgeable and effective at my work while also having a dazzling smile. People have to remember me not only about how quickly I solve issues but also how calm and poised I was while doing it. Tall expectations. Thank goodness I have just the high heels to match and not just metaphorically either.

Of course, my local work environment has a lot to do with how things are. I'm keeping my fingers crossed not only about getting the position but also about who I'm reporting to there.

I feel my career clock ticking away. I have, at most about 10 more years of good income earning years ahead of me and I must make enough and save enough not only to retire but also to care for the kids' education and whatnot.

Yes, I'll deal with the Devil himself but I'm going to try my darnest not to lose my soul over it.

Open Letter to Proponents of Bill 44

Dear Sir/Madam,

I read with interest of your plan to keep your children ignorant of subjects taught in school that you disapprove of. I assume this includes things like evolution, sex education, the Holocaust, the Inquisition, the Salem witch trials and other things that you would prefer to ignore.

I, sir/madam, heartily endorse your plan.

I am a parent/guardian, employed, neatly groomed and well-educated lady who is also a woman of faith. You see, I do believe in God. Just not Her fanclub. Sorry.

I endorse your plan because it means that your children will grow up ignorant of some basic scientific facts. Your children will also grow up not knowing any social configuration except for the heterosexual, binary-gendered. religion-rooted view of society. Or, for that matter, how procreation works. But hey, you're here - I'm sure your encore performance of that highly informative 5 minute chat your parent had with you before your wedding will be also be passed onto your child just before his/her wedding. I really admire people who can explain things like that in a hurry, and without visual aids either! Thoroughly brilliant! You have my admiration for your communication skills as well as keeping such family traditions alive.

Be sure to instruct your kids about abstinence being the only way before marriage. After all, you followed it to the letter, right? Since you're preventing your kids from learning about biological elements like hormones and the reproductive system, as well as methods of birth control in sex education classes, abstinence is really the only thing you can tell them to do. Good for you! Never hurts to have clarity about things.

By the way, I have no problems if you wish to teach your children that the Sun rotates around the earth too. Or that evolution is a lie but the Flintstones is based on fact rather than a children's cartoon. Please, go ahead. Would you like me to find a dinosaur saddle for you on eBay? See? I'm a nice person - I'd do that just for you.

You opting to hobble the teachers' efforts to educate the next generation of Albertans merely adds to the Herculean task that they already face in trying to teach our children. Opting your kids out of classes because you don't believe in them constricts them to just your dogma. I see that as akin to saying No to opposable thumbs when the Evolution cart came along. Oh wait, you don't believe in evolution. Sorry, my bad.

Don't think of it as me opposing you. Please see it as me balancing out your dead weight.

For my part, I'm going to keep teaching my kids (and anyone else who wants to learn) about fact-based science. That there is a natural progression that can be traced through time that led us to where we are. Yes, there are holes in the theory, fossils we haven't dug up yet. But you know what? I'd rather teach my kids that there are mysteries in the universe. That there are missing pieces which, if one looked hard enough, will eventually prove that one's understanding is correct. Or prove that it's wrong, which is also a valuable lesson.

My kids won't let their ignorance keep them in their search for truth. Your kids won't let their ignorance stop them. See? We have a common point already! Isn't that great?

There are a lot of things that we don't know about the universe. Whether the Higgs boson exists, for example. What the proof to Goldbach's Conjecture is. Why life exists on this planet. Or why sticking your head in the sand is a bad thing not just for you but for your country when it comes to education.

I'm sure your religious book tells you all you want to know. See, this is where I get really jealous - scientists like me have to figure out the mysteries of the universe from scratch, by dint of hard work. You? You take the shortcut by having all those answers given to you in a convenient book. Wow. All that written ages ago in the Iron Age when indoor plumbing wasn't even around yet. I'm kicking myself for all those years of hard work in school and university. I mean, your holy book's Truthiness is self-evident - I could have saved myself so much trouble if I simply stopped all this headache-inducing thinking and just cited directly from that book.

Call me stubborn but I want to know more. I would like to have independent proof, not just hearsay. Yes, I'm teaching that to my kids too. My children will be ignorant of the things they know they don't know. Your children will be ignorant of the things they don't even know they don't know. But that's okay, because they have your holy book to quote from.

The proof will be in the pudding when they grow up. If I'm not mistaken, one of your holy books say something about you inheriting the earth. I thoroughly support that - please, do take the planet. It's okay, there's no strings attached.

By the way, you don't mind if my kids colonized the rest of the galaxy, right?

Sincerely,
Handmaiden of Science

Bigotry

The appeal for overturning Proposition 8 in California failed today. Prop. 8 changes the Californian state constitution to explicitly ban same-sex marriages. If I'm not mistaken, this is the first time that there has been an amendment to a state constitution to take away basic human rights.

I have no personal stake in Prop. 8 as I am neither an American citizen nor a California resident nor a lesbian. So why am I blogging about this?

Because this is wrong. It's hard enough to find happiness in this world, let alone a chance to share one's life with someone who loves you. Same sex marriages are private affairs, just like traditional marriages. To refuse a couple of the recognition and benefits of a matrimonial union that doesn't impact anyone else any more than traditional marriage is discriminatory.

Simply put, it's bigotry. You can paint it any way you want - it's Not The Way Things Are Done, or My God Said No, or any number of excuses. It's none of anyone's business who marries who unless if they are personally involved as friends or family.

Do you want to bet that most of the Californians who voted for Prop. 8 have never even met someone who's gay or lesbian? If so, then why are they taking away a shot at happiness that this minority needs?

Closer to home, I ran into a nasty case of bigotry and intolerance in my extended family tonight. I'm furious and sad at the same time. I'm fighting really hard not to hate those involved...and I think I'm succeeding. However, that doesn't fix the problem that they're bigots, so I've had to take clear and definitive action to preclude further flashpoints. Thank goodness I'm an adherent of Petrosian - sometimes being a good planner and strategist helps even at the cost of insomnia and depression.

Deeper water

In less than a month, a full year would have passed since my surgery, over two years since I took my first public steps that eventually led me to where I am today. I can't say that it's been easy; far from it. Recovery has been hellish and truth be told, I'm still recovering...and for some issues, recovery may never happen.

However, as I'm looking at my reflection in the mirror while being bathed by the soft glow of my MacBook, I'm also very glad that I did make those decisions. My life isn't anything like what it was a mere...4 years ago. Things have changed so radically. I've changed so radically.

For most folks going through the same type of surgery have long since discarded the cocoon of their change and flown off into the sunshine of their new selves.

Me, I'm still stuck due to a pretty major event that is still haunting me. But...I'm not doing so badly after all. It took me ages to recover my strength and I'm certainly not anywhere near normal even now. I'm learning ballet though. I have an active social life, new friends and new experiences to boot. More than that, I no longer have any aversion to mirrors.

Y'know, things aren't too bad. :)

I feel like I'm finally getting over some small part of the darkness that has held me back. To switch metaphors, I'm finally moving out into deeper water, where a new world beckons. How do I know that? Well, to pick an absurd example of what is changing in my life, let's talk about shoes. I'm shopping for shoes. In the distant past, I'd just go find something affordable and comfortable. In the recent past, I'd go and find something acceptably stylish, affordable and comfortable, usually with the expert advice of my sister.

Right now, I'm confronted with a million shoes in the other browser window, in all shapes, sizes and colours, most of which are waaaaaaay out of my budget. In short, these days? I'm shopping for something elegantly simple yet stylish, comfortable...and doesn't require me to sell more than just one kid to afford it. :) Plus, I now have a pack of friends who know shoes like the back of their hand.

Oy. I've always hated shoe shopping.But now, suddenly I find that hitherto unused brand names like "Manolo Blahnik", "Jimmy Choo" and "Christian Louboutin" rolling off my tongue and their absurdly high prices doesn't make me run away in horror, clutching my piggy bank and reassuring it that the Bad Fashion Houses won't crack them open.

Here, piggy piggy...ignore the mallet I've got behind me, please. :)

Seriously though, I haven't gone completely off the deep end - I haven't spent a cent nor will I do so anytime soon. However, I can't ignore the fact that my formal and smart casual spring wardrobes do not have appropriately matching shoes to complete them.

Someday, when I have enough money...

But for now, I'll stick to what I have and hope that exclamations of "Look behind you! Something interesting!" will distract the shallow, consumeristic upper management gits that I have to interact with in my professional life.

The View from Up Here

I attended my first ballet class tonight. I'm sore, tired and grinning ear to ear. I'm not so delusional as to claim that I'm coordinated when it comes to dance but you know what? It doesn't matter - the class was a lot of fun!

It's been a long time since I did something simply for the sheer joy of doing it. I'm quite bad at ballet but then again, so is at least half the class. There's a very steep learning curve...and gravity is a harsh mistress for some of those particularly unstable moves.

We went out for dinner tonight and I jokingly suggested to the kids that they should take ballet too. The look on one of the boys was precious, a cross between biting into something sour and tasting Marmite. Upon further good-natured interrogation, it came to light that the kids see ballet as something that only girls do. They may be correct there - there's probably about 19 women in my class and exactly one man, who was also grinning ear to ear for the entire class for some inexplicable reason of his own.

The instructor had a Syllabus written on her Notebook, which she referred to regularly as she took the class through a dizzying number of moves with Undue Haste. I can't say I'm impressed with her pace, nor were some of the other students if the queue for feedback was any indication. I did manage to talk to the instructor and politely give voice to my concerns. Hopefully next week will be different. I'd rather learn fewer moves well than flub up many moves fast.

My flat feet haven't bothered me in a long time...until tonight. The soles and ankles started burning halfway through the class from the exertion and repeated impacts. I suspect a lot of it has to do with me not doing the exercises correctly and I'm hoping this will get better as I progress.

Contrary to popular belief, no, we didn't spend most of the class en pointe. None of us, except for the instructor, can dance en pointe. I was having a hard enough time not falling over. En pointe will take years and years of practice, if I'm even able to do so now at my advanced age. There's a reason why you don't usually see old ballet dancers in performances. We're just a little too decrepit and calcified to handle the rigors of advanced ballet.

In the meantime, it's practice practice practice! I'm glad that my Condition is cured - I'm going to need to practice in front of a mirror regularly now. And find a chair to act as a barre that's sturdy enough to hold me up when I inevitably lose my balance. Yes, I know that's not what I'm supposed to use the barre for...and I'm wincing as I'm typing this because I'm caught between reinforcing a bad habit vs. getting to know my carpet really well from close up everytime I prove that gravity is still working.

Tough, but fun. Gods, I'm loving this!

Zzzzz...

Zzzzz...snerk...zzzzz...zzzzz...zzzzz...

Owowowowow

I have been trying to get back into some semblance of decent physical shape after nearly a year of convalescence. Let's be clear here - I wasn't a prime physical specimen to begin with, so my expectations were, shall we say, modest and realistic.

Oh gods, I never knew it would hurt so much.

On the plus side, I was also curious to see if I felt any different now that I'm Cured from the Condition. Not surprisingly, I do - my sense of balance has returned to the level that I had when I was a child and can walk with confidence along a balance beam. Not half bad for someone my age. I also appear to have gained a significantly improved muscle sense - very handy in my Pilates classes when I need to target specific muscle groups.

I will confess that as great all of that is, I'm slightly disappointed I didn't gain superpowers like Flight or X-ray Vision or Invisibility. Oh well, I'm sure those will develop naturally someday, which reminds me, it's time for me to stand in front of the microwave again.

Art?

I've been doing some volunteer work as a guest teacher in the local schools for some time now and am having a blast with it. It's fun for the kids as I tend to include at least some form of cataclysmic "we're-all-going-to-die" element at the very start of the class to pique their interest, then quietly and systemically disprove it over the course of the hour.

Except for the Alien Invasion in 2012, of course. We've spent millennia planning for that and nothing you Earthlings can do will stop us. Bwahahahahahahahahahaha!

*ahem*

So, anyway, I've been keeping busy outside of work lately and am having fun with my suddenly expanding circle of friends and acquaintances with whom I share an interest, D&D being a prime example thereof. Don't worry, I'm still the plain and boring gal you know and love - this just means that I've found other plain and boring types to hang out with.

One thing that I've always wanted to do since I was a wee child was ballet. Lo and behold, there's a dance academy here in town offering classes for adults! So when enrolment opens later this month, I'm signing up! Reading between the lines, I think it's hilarious that the adult classes start at "Level 0". I've never known non-computer scientists to zero-index prior to this but reading between the lines suggested why they're doing so - there are adults who may not be able to dance at the requisite level for ballet. This...makes me nervous as I may fall into that category. Still, I'm going to give it a shot and see what happens. For those of you with overactive imaginations, no, they don't outfit us adults with tutus - just plain leotards, I'm afraid.

Which brought up an interesting remark lately: "Gee, I guess you're into performance art now, huh?"

You know, a few years ago, I would have reacted poorly to that comment. Me? A Handmaiden of Science involving myself in....Art? Goodness gracious, let me introduce you to my legal team who handles slander!

Trying ballet out doesn't constitute being interested in performance art. But combined with the sheer joy I feel when teaching kids, presenting and training at work along with other similar interests...maybe.

I guess in that respect I have definitely changed in that my self-confidence has increased significantly in the past couple of years or so (ignore the corresponding increase in neurotic behaviour, it isn't relevant here).

Wow. Me, into Art. Who would have thunk it?

Alignment Change

I have been officially informed that my alignment change from Lawful Neutral to Lawful Good is confirmed. You may recall that my descent to Goody-Two-Shoeness began over a year ago here.

This does not change the fact that I'm still Evil-Curious.

Great...now what am I supposed to do with all the souls I've collected?

[Disclaimer: Kate does not actually collect souls, or at least not that we know of. Alignment change endorsed by the Coalition to Make Kate Less Weird. Void where prohibited. No purchase necessary. Actual value 1/100 of 1 cent. Not valid in Quebec. Skill testing question must be answered correctly to claim soul.]

Armour

In the older editions of D&D, you get slower and less agile as you don more armour. This intuitively makes sense as someone clanking around in full plate probably isn't going to be the best runner or swimmer in the party. On the other hand, that shifty-looking chap in black leather armour (which always seem to have bright metal studding despite its stealth-negation properties) is probably someone you'd send to walk along that tightrope to grab that McGuffin inexplicably hovering over the chasm.

In these modern times, we don't have too many armoured knights or stealthy rogues around any longer. However, each and every one of us do still don armour, just armour of a different sort. Our weapons are no longer swords and knives but words. As such, we all harden our soul against them to survive.

In my previous life, I had very thick emotional armour on, which also made me rather thick to what was going on around me - but that was exactly what it was meant to do. I survived many conflicts, some of them I didn't even notice. But now,  I don't have as much armour on, partly because I chose to trade security for flexibility and partly because I can't fight biological imperatives.

I can honestly say that I have experienced more pain and heartache in the past few years than I have had in my entire lifetime. But I have also experienced more joy and laughter in the past few years than I have had in my entire lifetime too.

Now, I am at a crossroads once more. I have the option of hardening my soul again, to protect myself so I feel less pain but at the cost of feeling less, period, in life. Or, I could continue down this vulnerable path I'm already on, braving whatever harm existence chooses to incur on me.

I've pondered this for quite a while. In the end, it came down to family, deciding which of the two would bring me closer to them, to comfort them, to laugh, to cry, to share in their lives. In that light, there can be only one choice.

Having emotional armour is great as it stops you from being hurt. But it also stops you from feeling the hugs from those who love you. And for one hug from the kids, I would willingly suffer a thousand unkind words.

Standards

Everyone has standards, even if they're not consciously aware of them. I can say that with confidence because everyone has "lines" they "won't cross", or matters that they espouse to be "right" or "wrong".

I have standards too. However, I have had to re-examine some of them recently from my newfound perspective and discovered that I had to modify or simply invalidate some of those standards outright in my new social role.

Which means to me that standards, like morality, is an illusion that shifts from moment to moment and person to person. Yet we all cling to them as if it was the Word of God and use them to guide our lives.

Well, some of us anyway. Your standards on what constitutes a standard may be different from mine.

Ow, my head hurts. I should really stop thinking about matters like these at midnight...

Authenticity

I have never seen myself as a rebel ever before in my life and I still don't. For as long as I remember, I've worked within whichever system I found myself in, embracing it and changing it from the inside toward what I believed to be a better future.

So it was with quite a bit of surprise when I discovered rather abruptly a few weeks ago that I wasn't as mainstream and lily-white as I thought I was. I still don't consider myself a rebel, as I am not demonstrably bucking the system - I am merely going down the roads less travelled.  In this regard, I am not changing the system for a greater good. I am pursuing personal goals outside of the system, into what is still considered uncharted territory by the majority.

This had been going on for a long time, which was why I never noticed it. This shift accumulated bit by bit over the years until it piled up and could not be ignored. My Condition accounted for a lot of it, but definitely wasn't all of it, not by a long shot. So, with my Condition resolved some time back, this other stuff started coming to the forefront.

Some of it dealt with a past I had buried deep inside me for good reason. I'm still excavating those dark areas and bringing them to light. It is...quite unpleasant.

Some of it dealt with matters I never felt free nor right enough to explore. In these areas, I have found joy, wonderment and best of all, peace.

I can't say that I'm happy with my life right now but for the first time, I am truly and I mean truly living the life that really is mine.

Roll of the dice

With people, you can never really know what to expect. People are so unpredictable because the environment we live in is unpredictable. So, when I need to have a serious conversation with a friend, I have always approached it with cautious optimism.

Sometimes, that optimism is dashed by the friend's sudden and unpredictable hostility. Other times, I linger in limbo when I can't tell if my friend's taken it well or not.

Fortunately, it does not appear that I have lost any friends during my round of serious talks with them last week. It's taught me to be grateful that most people are inherently good, even when you shake the foundations of what they know to have been true for most of their lives.

I'm fortunate and blessed to have the friends I have. So to all of you, thank you.

The Present Past

All of us have a history that we write with every breath we take regardless of whether there is anyone to see it or not. Some of us who have live, truly lived, will have a history that is worth telling.

I am not one of those. I am doomed to tell my boring story over and over again in the interests of honesty.

I hit the reset button on my life nearly 2 years ago and most of the people I interact with in everyday life are none the wiser. Unfortunately, when it comes to a close friendship or any deeper relationship, I maintain that they have a Right to Know about certain interesting bits of my past. I'm not going to force it down their throats, but I will come clean about certain matters. It works well because if they're going to reject me, it's best they reject me sooner than later. That and I'd rather that they know directly from me rather than some other way. It's safer and it's also a matter of respect and trust.

Simply because it works well doesn't mean it's easy. I hate having these conversations and I hate having to have these conversations every time a friendship grows from "casual" to "close". I'm never really sure if I will lose my friend or not during that chat and it's very stressful as you might imagine.

Last night, I had that chat with 3 different people. This weekend, I'm having that chat with 2 more. The three went well, I think. Time will tell; it has been my experience that how people react at the moment of disclosure may change radically when they've had a chance to think about it. I'll leave them alone for a few days and then see if they're still answering my calls. There is always the chance that they will not.

The 2 this weekend may be a bit of a challenge. Based on statistics gathered on a similar matter, I figure that I have about a 10% chance of a positive response. If that happens, great...but I'm going to plan for that 90% chance of it not being a positive response. I doubt any of the people I know will react physically in an extreme manner but one can never really tell.

*sigh* Sometimes I wish I had kept my mouth shut. But I doubt that I would have been blessed with so many friends and family who have stood by me as I underwent the medical treatments in the past 3 years had I not been honest with them. Thus, honesty appears to be the best policy.

I'm having trouble sleeping these days. But I can still look myself in the mirror, and that is what counts.

Carpe diem

Those of you who know me well can probably count on a single hand the number of times you've seen me relax. Some of you may have never ever seen me relaxed. No, really - the last time I did let go enough of my daily stress was when I was stargazing and if you were there, it'd be pitch dark so you literally couldn't have seen me relaxed, right? :)

There's been quite a few changes since my surgery last year, some bad, some good. I wasn't expecting an increase in happiness or anything like that; I had expected things to stay mostly the same. Fortunately for me, it hasn't. Some rather delightful changes have happened which have caught me completely by surprise. So now, I'm giddily exploring options and interests that had previously been closed to me.

I do admit, it's been quite nice.

For example, I seem to be more susceptible to good romantic poetry now. And surprisingly, my interest in flowers have been rekindled. I know this will shock most of you - I like sunlight in my room. In fact, my sis and I will be rearranging my room soon so that I can wake up in the morning to the gentle warming caress of sunlight.

Oh, and framed art in my room when we redecorate. And a vase or two for fresh flowers, when I'm fortunate enough to get them.

Most of all, I have a life outside of work now! Friends I can talk to, communal activities and joy to be had.

As with all things, I realize that it too shall pass. For as long as I have it, I shall be unabashed to explore that which is fulfilling and joyful.

Back in the saddle again

Despite the economic crunch, I took the plunge and got an Xbox 360. Probably not the smartest decision in these times but I was starting to go slightly bonkers with the stress.

It was a nice little holiday bundle that comes with two family games (Kung Fu Panda and Lego Indy Jones) at the same price as the regular bundle which didn't come with games. The store was selling both of them and I sometimes wonder if anyone would ever choose the regular bundle.

The Xbox 360 replaces my original Xbox, which I got free as a performance bonus at the company I was working at at that time. Unfortunately, it looks like it expects HDTV to work properly - the fonts are ultra-small on my regular TV.

I bought Mass Effect and am enjoying it throughly. It's kind of what Tabula Rasa should have been but never was. Too bad Mass Effect isn't multiplayer.

No, for multiplayer you need Halo 3, which I also bought although I had to take an advance from next month's allotment to do so. Ah...budgets.

Gaming feels quite different these days. I stopped playing games mostly because it was an inherently solitary pursuit where you played alone and didn't really have anything to show for it. Microsoft seems to have done things right with their Xbox Live multiplayer - I have to admit, I'm impressed. I do wish they'd stop charging for online access as no one else does.

Reset

Well, a new year has come. Here's to hoping that 2009 shall be significantly less of an anno horribilis than the past year has been.

Happy New Year, everyone!