The family's other big news

You need a little background in religion for this post to make sense.

Item #1: we belong to a church with lay clergy. That means if a church job must be done, an assignment is extended, and a volunteer ends up doing the job for a while. All leadership positions on the local level are volunteer positions. The typical bishop is a guy in a business suit with a day job. In all positions, someone takes their turn for a while, and then the job is passed on to the next sucker volunteer.

There is a lot of social pressure to accept assignments that are asked of you in this church, and almost all members have an assignment at any given time. For example, my current assignment is Sunday school teacher. We are working through the New Testament, and I teach my take on the scripture, with heavy bias from a church-sanctioned manual. Manual is important when the teacher is a volunteer, and hasn't actually had any Bible classes, unless you count the ones I took mornings as a teenager.

But this post isn't about me.

Item #2: The typical bishop is a guy in a business suit. I already said that. He is typically middle aged, white male, clean shaven, short haircut, wear a tie to work kind of guy. The guy over the bishop is called a stake president. And he is even more likely to fit the above description. And the guy over the stake president was pulled from the ranks of the stake presidents. With a few exceptions, they're a pretty homogeneous bunch.

Now, let's put Item #1 and Item #2 together. How does a leader guy in my church pick out other leader guys? (and gals)? Well, I think there may be some prayer and soul searching involved, but typically he just looks around the room on a given Sunday and tries to determine which members of the congregation would be likely to keep the ball in the air.

Person who gets a relatively important assignment should have some important personality traits: Likely to show up on Sunday, not likely to declare himself the new prophet and lead half the congregation astray, and it would be convenient if they don't have many opinions too far off from those of the business suits up a level or two. Avoid contention and all that.

It's easy to spot the people who are likely to show up on Sunday: they show up every Sunday. Spotting those who will go apostate may be a little trickier, although it's a skill that probably can be developed with practice. But those controversial opinions can hide under many skins. So, if you are a business suit, looking for a leader type, what do you look for?

Typically, clean shaven, white male, short haircut, conservative suit type of guys.

Tim only satisfies one of those four traits. In all the congregations we have belonged to in the past, Tim has been totally immune to time-consuming church assignments. And me too, by association, even though I never shave but still can't grow a beard.

Until now.

For Tim, that is, not me growing the beard. Still no success there.

Anyway, Tim has been very recently assigned the job of Elder's quorum president. Which sounds a lot like he'll supervise a parliament full of stooped over gray haired men. But actually most of them in our congregation are middle aged. The stoopy guys are called High Priests and they offer the best stories in Sunday School. I love our stoopy old men.

I do love Tim, too, and wish him luck with the new assignment. He gets to do things like clear snow if it should happen to fall on a Saturday, set up chairs if it should happen to be January or April, and attend meetings meetings meetings.

Last week, Tim dressed up all nice and neat for the first time as Elder's quorum president. Long hair, beard, blue button up shirt, white tie with lots of little red U's on it.

We wish you luck, Tim.

Chicken strips and French fries

This evening, tired of cooking and needing to stock the fridge anyway, we ate out. We tried a tiny local mom-and-pop restaurant two doors down from the neighborhood grocery store.

Jonathan, for one, loved it. He ordered French fries and chicken strips, and a huge glass of pineapple juice, and it all came with a whole fresh peach on the side.

"This food is fantastic," he said at one point in the evening.

The boy always orders chicken strips and French fries. Why?

Me, I ordered the fish special, because I never get fish at home. I live with fish haters.

Now that I think of it, Jonathan doesn't ever get chicken strips and French fries at home. Nor, for that matter, does he ever really get anything deep fried. And we haven't seen fresh peaches since September.

Perhaps that's what makes it fantastic: trying something different that he knows he will love. Same for me with the fish.

Perhaps if I deep fried at home, he would think my food was fantastic, rather than eyeball every dish I make with suspicion.

Somehow I doubt it.

I must say, cooking is less fun with a small boy in the house.

And also, the food was very good. I will go back to that restaurant. Sometime when I'm tired of cooking and need something deep fried.

Its a major award

I received a major award this week.

Funny, I am the same person today that I was one week ago.

But one week ago, the university PR department didn't care what my research was about. My department chair was secretly thinking I deserved a course release for my teaching work, but hadn't yet told me so. And my friends and colleagues around the country had no reason to write to me.

One week ago Thursday the astounding news appeared in a benign-looking email in my inbox. As I read, my knees started shaking so badly that I had to put the laptop on the table to read the last few lines. Instructions not to share until Tuesday.

On Monday, I met with the department chair about the teaching thing, and he offered the course release if I would please continue my reorganization of our major general education class. I told him that sounded good, except I might not be the person for the job the following day, when I had some news I would share.

News?!? I think his first guess was that I was pregnant. Then he worried I was leaving.

Funny. Back in the fall, he helped nominate me for the award I was winning. I guess neither of us really thought that I would actually get it.

Tuesday morning the news broke. Colleagues from Michigan, Texas, California wrote to congratulate me. Other universities whose faculty members won the same award posted the news as soon as possible. Tim contacted me through the day. "Berkeley has theirs up on their main website. Texas has theirs up. Where are you?"

No one from my university had won such an award since 1969. They didn't know they should look for it. They probably didn't know what it meant.

And my department chair? We met again Wednesday morning. He suggested extra course releases, not for teaching, but to devote time to my research. I could take semesters off, a full year off. If I wanted. Because I won a major award.

So here's a problem. I actually want the teaching job. I want to continue to reorganize the general education course. And to continue to reorganize the graduate course. And to have extra time for research as well. But I probably can't. In any case, I was promised the whole weekend for soul searching. Tim and I have been talking. Should we go away? Should we stay? What do I really want to be when I grow up? Or better: what do we want in just five years? And how can I use the major award to get there?

University PR contacted me Friday for a story they'll write up over the weekend. They wanted to know what I would do with the research award money. Me too.

Funny. My research hasn't changed, but suddenly they care.

I really am the same person this week that I was last week.

Or am I?

I have something this week that I didn't have before.

Confidence. Clout. Choices.

You know, once before in my life I won a major award, and the winning gave me the confidence to pursue a direction in life I thought I wasn't smart enough to pursue. (As a senior in college. Named one of two top undergraduate women in the country. Decided maybe I could cut it in grad school after all.)

Amazing. I know for a fact that I'm not the most qualified person. Somehow the stars just aligned in my favor. But since they have, the world is upside down.

If it's not about winning, then why does one major award make such a difference?

Stress reduction?

I went to the dentist today.

We discussed my tramatic episode of giant swollen gums.

The dentist and hygienist both agreed that it was stress related, and that I should practice stress reduction in my life to save my poor bleeding gums.

They wanted to know what stress I experienced before said incident. I explained that the semester was just starting, that I was designing two classes, that I was finding substitutes and travelling internationally, that I was giving a pair of important presentations in a country I had never visited, where I did not speak the language.

They expressed noises of sympathy. That did sound stressful.

Then they asked where I went for this international travel.

Tokyo.

Tokyo? Wow. That sounds great. How was the trip?

Um. I just told you how it was. Stressful enough to make my gums swell up into balloons.

No, no -- aside from that. How was it otherwise?

*****

Speaking of stress reduction, I have some funds I am supposed to use on my research. But the only thing my research is really lacking right now is time. How can I use my funds to buy back my time?

Please send suggestions as soon as possible, before my gums swell up again and I die.

Death by gum disease.

That sounds so pathetic. I'm making myself cry.

Things I didn't say

... to the lovely ladies in church today.

I didn't say that I have found good people and bad people everywhere we have lived. I have had neighbors who cared as much about our friendship or family, who did not wear the same labelled religion on their sleeve. Or didn't care as much, but did. Both.

I didn't say that I think grouping into us and them isn't helpful. We are all us. And all them.

I didn't say that it isn't safe to pretend we live in a bubble, safe, as long as we don't let the wrong sort inside. What does that mean? If you knew me better, would I be the wrong sort? (Probably.) Which brings up the question: how do you know that the people in your bubble are the people you think they are?

Me, for example?

Perhaps I am just sitting quietly on the side, hands down, eyes wide, viperous thoughts inside. Wondering about your thoughts. And how to protect my children from your bubble.

I think you are all wonderful ladies, and good neighbors, and trying your best to be the best women you know how to be. And I admire you for it. But some of the things some of you say make my eyes grow a little wide (and my heart a little anxious).

Do you see that in yourselves?

Which brings up the much more important question: which behaviors do I not see in myself? Where do I stand on the wrong side of hypocrisy? On the dangerous side of naive? Where am I? And how can I recognize it?

Because often talking with you, I think that if I just ignore this beam, I can help all of you with your motes.

I didn't say any of that.

Unfinished posting

I keep starting posts that I don't finish, and perhaps this post will be the same.

Every post needs a reason, an explanation of its existence. This post exists because of migraine pills. Migraine pills are wonderful things. They take a head stuffed with cotton and lead, and turn it into feathers and air. They turn heavy, pained exhaustion into light, happy perkiness. They erase the migraine and replace it with energy.

My brain is full of energy. It knows that it must be awake again and full of energy in about six hours, but it does not want to go lie in the bed in the darkness while still set to "on".

And that, friends, explains why this post exists.

You may wonder what the other, unfinished, neglected posts have been about. Mostly happiness. I read most of a book on happiness in December, up until the day it was due at the library and I hadn't finished. I learned that happiness is a journey, and that we really aren't most happy when we are free of tasks, or when we have finally accomplished our goals, but that we humans are most happy while busy working towards meaningful goals.

And then I realized that I'm pretty happy most of the time. Except maybe I have too many meaningful goals, and I need to dump some. I didn't get that far in the book, actually, so I'm making that last part up. But I still stand by it.

Is it legal to admit in public that you are happy? I know it is fine to admit that you feel stressed out. That is a sign of accomplishment: busy people are important. It is legal to admit you get migraines, as long as you don't pull in a discussion about female hormones and cycles and boring medical stuff. Or is that interesting? Interesting blogs incorporate conflict. Or humor. Or how-to discussions. Or higher mathematics (kidding on that last one). If I pretend my blog is interesting, is there space to admit to happiness?

I doubt it. Happiness is boring.

To round out a boring post with other boring reasons for happiness: I only have one child, and as time passes, it becomes more and more likely that I will only ever have only one child. But he is enough, and more than enough to fill my whole soul with happiness. In the few days after his birth, his mere existence filled my heart with a rough fierceness that could only be understood as instinctual love of a mother animal. But as he grows into himself, his goodness, his beauty, his laughter and mischeviousness, himself, he makes that love soften and round out and expand, until now it presses against my insides every day. It is enough.

Migraine pills are wearing down. Bedtime.

See you in a few hours, world.

Wireless access

I have a new computer at work. Time to get it registered with the wireless network there.

Tried to log into the secure wireless network, needed a password.

Plugged computer into network, filtered through old mail from IT, found password.

Connected to wireless, typed in password. Wireless was connected, but additional information needed to be entered before I could use the wireless.

Unplugged network, closed web browser. Opened it again. Got to login page. Entered ID and password. Clicked button for mandatory computer scan to be done before connecting to wireless.

Mandatory scan failed. Need to download java.

Plugged into network, downloaded and installed java (20 minutes).

Unplugged network. Closed and opened browser. Got to login page. Entered ID and password. Clicked button for scan. Do you want to allow scanner to make changes to your hard drive? OK.

Scan.

Scan failed. No antivirus software detected.

Open antivirus program. There it is, stupid scanner. Why don't you see it?

Plugged in network, clicked "update" button on antivirus software.

Wait.

Antivirus software is up to date.

Redo scan.

Scan failed. No antivirus software.

Email department IT guy.

His quick response: Click "update" on the antivirus software. If that doesn't work, call his assistant or, last resort, campus OIT.

I reply that I did the update.

He replies: make sure the computer is plugged into the network when you click update.

I plug in network again, click update. Yup. Did this. Up to date.

I unplug network. Try to scan again.

Scan failed. No antivirus software.

I call department IT guy assistant. No answer.

Call campus OIT.

They look up my scan. Scan says I have no antivirus software.

While on the phone, I open my antivirus software. Why is the scan saying this?

IT guy asks, when did you download it?

About two days ago.

Which version are you using?

Find "about" button (hint: it's hiding under the help ?). Version 2.0.

Please hold.

(Elevator music.)

Ma'am? Version 2.0 is not yet supported, and won't be supported for at least a month. Maybe you can download a less recent version of the antivirus software?

Um. Doesn't that defeat the purpose?

You could uninstall yours, and install the campus supported antivirus software.

Um, no. That one messed up my system last year. I'll just go without wireless for a month. (I obviously have a cable.)

Hang up.

Back to work.

Phone rings.

Ma'am? You could uninstall your antivirus program, install ours, register your wireless device and get it into the system, then it's good for four months. Now uninstall ours, reinstall yours, and you're good to go for four months.

Um.... Thanks. I will keep that in mind.