Saturday, September 13, 2014

Re-establishing our Priorities

After a kind of sad and distracted day yesterday, we wanted to start this morning with a fresh perspective on how important this family is to us. The day began with Lara's gymnastics class, which was enjoyable as usual. Matthew worked at Autozone from 6:45-12:00 this morning, so we waited for him to get home and then hit the road for good ole Martin. In training for his St. Jude marathon in December, each weekend comes with a long-a** run. We his family love to support his running endeavors, but it's a lot easier to do so when there's a fun playground nearby to play on while he runs forever and ever.


After Daddy ran and ran and ran and ran, we drove to the UTM pool for a quick dip to cool off (after all, it was a sweltering 70 degrees out today...). Speaking of which, many thanks to the Hill clan for letting us borrow towels. We weren't feeling very clever as we drove up to the Martin pool, a good 35 minute drive from our house, and realized we were fully prepared for an afternoon of swimming, bar towels. After swimming, pizza. After pizza, passed out kids on the car ride home. It was a simple sequence of a perfect family day out. Today's antics helped me to remember that these guys are half the reason I married Matthew-- Matthew being the other half of the reason-- and that we can, as always, make the best of a difficult situation.



As usual, I thought about a lot of things. Most of them verging on the pessimistic. Most of them are probably best left unpublicized because I can never be sure who reads these posts. 

Friday, September 12, 2014

In other news...

I am the Face of UTM. It's about time! I've been waiting two years for someone to realize I'm, like, super important.

Anger


Today I received some news that made me so angry and that I can't really do anything to improve or change. It's one of those things that really feels like a punch in the gut even though I know the person responsible does not, in fact, have a vendetta against me (well, not that I know of). One of those things where I am furious at someone even though I know they did nothing wrong or even anything with any intention of hurting someone.

But I feel hurt. I feel as if years of my life are going to be spent wishing and waiting for something that comes without even trying to millions of other people. I feel like someone is rubbing my face in the fact that I'm not part of an elite club that actually 85% of the population is supposed to be allowed to join. I feel angry because it's not my fault; in fact, it's specifically the fault of someone else.

The worst part of this is that I know I have no choice but to swallow my anger and move on because it's not my fault, but it's not really anyone else's fault either. It's just life. It's just how things are going to be. And I'm going to get used to life in this tasking new way. And every time I look back on this day, I'll probably feel kind of angry and then tell myself that anger doesn't help anything. Anger just is.

If someone had to ask me what my greatest trial in life is, this might be it. I might have to go with this one. Ask me again in forty years.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Loner in the Library

This is the first time in a year that I've been on Martin's campus after 6:00 PM, and I don't even have anyone to eat dinner with me. I look pretty amazingly cool, sitting by myself in the library eating a chicken salad pita pocket. All the other kids are simply aware of how cool I really am, so they're giving me space and that's why the library is empty. Admittedly, this place is sort of depressing when it's totally cleared out. In a nice way, too, though. Plus, I have a pita pocket, which I think comes in the Rule Book under the section "Instances in Which you Always Win, No Matter What." It goes something like this:


  1. Anytime you're eating out of a pita pocket.
  2. When you spent your weekend at a petting zoo.
  3. When your washing machine doesn't mildew your clothes even after the advisable period for leaving a load in the washer has long since passed.
  4. When you're required to audition for a play as part of a class even though you have already told the professor there's no way you have time to participate. Oh, and it also helps if auditions run until 9:00 PM on a school/work night.
Wait a minute, how'd that last part get in there? Well, speaking of play auditions, that's why I'm still here on campus after 6:00 PM, chilling in the library like a loser. I've already had to audition to get into the class (It's Advanced Acting, I needed to prove I am advanced because transfer student), so now I get to do another audition for the same professor for a show that I told him I can't be in due to my schedule with work and the familia. But ya know, whatever. 


#spaceballs

Isn't it pathetic that 9PM seems ludicrous (I could make another Spaceballs reference here but I am refraining by doing some restraining) for me to be out gallivanting around town? I used to stay up like a normal person. Aghhhh. Only 94 more days until commencement! It can't come soon enough!

Going to go read all of the books because what are libraries for?
-Mrs. Mary Mac

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Depths of Despair

Can't you even imagine you're in the depths of despair?
No I cannot. To despair is to turn your back on God.

Cheers to Anne and Marilla for the lovely intro to my blog post. And speaking of which, anyone who watched (or read, though the visual aspect is less...visual) Anne of Green Gables as a child and says they did not want to find their own Gilbert and break a chalkboard lovingly over his head is just lying to herself. Gilbert is the Noah Calhoun of my childhood years.

Anyway.

I'm really not in the depths of despair...mostly the depths of confusion. About what to do next and which page to turn first. My life is more like a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure book than Lucy Maud Montgomery's series, and I have to decide whether to start at the end of the book or to plod through in the most logical order.

The good news is: I know precisely what my life dream is. Myself being the Jill of all trades that I am, I did not expect to ever have some kind of enlightening moment in where I need to do my entire life's work. All my life, it just came naturally to be good at whatever school kicked my way; I expected careers to come as easily, and there was no particular field in which I had a vested interest. How would I ever choose one thing to be passionate about? Whatever I do, I do passionately. Choosing a career would be synonymous with taking whatever job seems most appealing at the time of graduation.

Until the day I began working as a tutor for the UTMartin Writing Center. I hadn't even tutored a single student yet when I felt a click. There was no Common *bleeping* Core, no state standards, no syllabus, no dang attendance sheet or floor plan to keep me from showing everyone around me that I. Love. School. And as soon as the first student came up to see me, that's what they got. They got me explaining that grammar is important, especially since you're in college now and you're going to love it here so much that you won't accept anything less than your best. They got me for a cheerleader and coach and the person who could give the most honest (but nice, y'all, I still like all my teachers) recommendations, warnings, and advice regarding their professors.

Because really, what could have made you a better student in your first year at college? Would it have helped to see someone who loved it there so much that they practically moved into their department study area? Uh, yeah. Am I weird? Yahs, but I like to think it's in a refreshing way.

So the question that remains, hanging in the air like the scent of garlic still permeating my house after a delicious batch of chicken Alfredo last night (that's a simile, kids, see? There are lessons to be learned everywhere.): to grad school or not to grad school? I know that Writing Centers are the final destination for me, and most colleges require a MA in English or related field in order to become a director of a writing center. So, do I take the plunge now and get a Master's so that I can begin a job hunt for a director position? Or, do I continue working (Heaven only knows how many hours, but it wouldn't be a whole bunch, so I'd be rocking that two-job swag) in the UTMartin Writing Center where I can at least guarantee comfort, happiness, and seeing my favorite people everyday (Considering I see my most favorite person every day anyway, this would really only add a handful of people [and by handful I mean two] to my daily seen individuals, but two is worth it when they are so very splendid.) but will probably not get any closer to being offered a director job?

This is the direction I'm leaning. First, I don't want to leave this place. A Master's Degree suggests that I have to work closely with some professor who isn't anyone near or dear to me, and that suggests rubbish. Second, I don't have enough experience in a Writing Center to just set sail and throw resumes at people (because ouch, that is super rude. Imagine the paper cuts.) and hope for the best. Third, Matthew deserves the opportunity to do something besides work at a job that he hates for much longer.

December, here I come, then! To bigger and better things I will continue. Except probably not a Master's degree right this second. But maybe.


I DON'T KNOW, NOAH. I JUST. DON'T KNOW.

The depths, I'm telling you. Depths of confusion.

Okaybyeeeee,
mrs.mac

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

On the hunt for a low-commitment hobby

I took a personality test once (good ole MBTI) that informed me I was a great project planner and not much of a project completer. Translation: I never put my creative energy to use. My Pinterest boards are stacked to the max, I have "One Day" shopping lists for the day I decide to invest in a new hobby, but I can never exert the energy to make it happen. There are so many (I say totally valid) reasons why this is the case - not enough money (uh this is the reason behind everything I ever do), not enough time, too much mess, too much what-am-I-going-to-do-with-all-that-extra-junk-I-make, but the main reason I've never stuck and gone whole-hog (what a great phrase) with a hobby is the need for precision.

Sewing: This one gnaws at my heart on a regular basis. I have a sewing machine and a lovely lovely assortment of tools, as well as books of pro tips and patterns to make...one day. I even took sewing lessons from the lovely shop where my parents purchased the sewing machine. It's all wonderful. Some day, I say I will go back to it and become a sewing fiend, maker of clothing and home decor. I hope this is true. But gosh almighty, sewing. Takes. Forever. You have to measure things and cut things and iron things and pin things and then measure again. It is probably one of those things that most people become more natural at doing by practicing it. Most people, however, are not quite as fly-by-night as I am, and when I do the sewing, things get messier and less accurate each time I pick out a new pattern. I figure, what is the worst that could happen? If the hems aren't even all the way around, does anyone really notice that? With my brain turned on, the answer is, of course, yes. People notice when you look like a drug addict made your clothes. However, I have a fun habit of turning the ole brain off when I'm trying to accomplish something, and Less Than My Best Effort brain always seems to win out in these discussions. I guess because the other one is turned off.

Gardening: Precision may not be quite as important with this one, but the critical issue here is that I literally have no idea what I am doing. So at least some element of know-how is necessary. Two years in a row, I have planted seeds, watched them grow into shoots, and let them die as shoots because I don't understand what the put-it-in-dirt part is supposed to look like. Pathetic, I know. Stupid City Girl proud, y'all. But I'd hate to invest all that money into garden tools and still not produce anything delicious and beautiful because I'm gardenally challenged.

Soap Making: This is a recent endeavor that never came to fruition. It sounds like suuuuper fun, and good smelling, and potentially profitable or at least nice for other people come Christmas time. Homemade soap can smell like whatever I want it to! How fun is that! Really fun. Sounds great. But then I made a handy dandy list of supplies to go pick up at the store and I was all like, This is what I need, and my wallet was all like, pity you didn't register for those small appliances last May because you will never be able to afford them ever again. (By ever again, I pretty much always mean until I get a real job and have forever rid myself of the University of Tennessee collective.) Also, that darn stinking precision is important so that you don't kill or explode yourself combining lye with water. So it makes me nervous that I would get comfortable with the recipe after my first attempt and end up blowing a hole through the roof. That's never advisable.

Note: Soap Making is still my go-to "I want to try that" hobby, so watch this space and you may eventually see me saving my pennies to buy the required supplies. No time soon, though, because there is going to be a newly 7 year old girl in my house in about a month, and all the pennies are going towards the presents for her for the next few weeks.

Baking: Precision is important and so easy for me to brush aside for the sake of time or cost effectiveness. For example, I regularly (like actually every time I decide to bake something, y'all) don't have quite enough of at least one ingredient, and I just carry on with the rest of the recipe in the assumption that it might not be perfect, but dude, it's cupcakes and even imperfect cupcakes are better than no cupcakes. This ends up with me not coming across as an excellent baker or cook. I want to self-righteously proclaim that I would be an excellent cook if I had an endless supply of recipes and ingredients to go in the food, but no one cares. All anyone ever seems to care about these days is the fact that occasionally I will substitute bizarre things that make all of the food I cook taste just a little weird.

Some people are so picky.

Does anyone have advice for picking a hobby that is so incredibly cost effective that I don't have to worry about the initial investment? Does anyone have any advice for actually sticking with a hobby?

As an aside, I think all of these hobby ideas would be more fruitful for me if I had a Hobby Buddy or Hubby. If Matthew decided to make soap with me (hahahahahaha...well, maybe one of the other ones I listed is more likely) I guarantee I would stick with it and probably keep things more precise to avoid being mocked by His Perfect Preciseness. And if I had a friend who wanted to come over and do literally anything with me, I know I would at least attempt to do it right. It's being left alone to my own devices that always lands me in disastrous circumstances and leads to my giving up on whatever hobby I had momentarily chosen.

What hobby have you successfully committed to enjoy?

See Y'all...maybe more often as I consider what career path I will be taking with My English Degree come this December ;-)

Mrs. M

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

I have a wonderful husband. After I came home with $100 of groceries and a promise to be more organized about meals, he still didn't complain when I made scrambled eggs for dinner last night. It's been weeks since the last time he didn't have to rummage through multiple baskets of clean clothes just to find a complete outfit. Tonight I'll probably be asleep before he gets home from his second job at AutoZone. If 2013 was a year of excitement and firsts, 2014 is shaping up to be a year of putting our noses to the grindstone and getting stuff done.
This is production week for the high school, and it is wearing me about as thing as I ever hope to be worn. It's a combination of worry about not be ready, futility of voicing my opinion, and general time that needs to be offered up in order to get these kids through the weekend with their dignity intact. I have mostly wonderful things to say about the kids and amount of talent produced by such a small town, but they've been set expectations that are way beneath their capabilities. I wish I could fix that.
Anyway, come see the play. It will make their hearts happy to have an audience there to watch them, and maybe you will be able to see the wealth of potential beneath the dearth of direction.