Wednesday, June 14, 2006

The more things change

“Mom!” I said insistently from my perch in the passenger seat. I think I was in 6th grade – 7th perhaps. And my dear mother had said something so horrible – so unimaginable – that I was compelled to argue with the utmost passion.

“They will never break up! They’ll always be popular! You don’t understand at all.” I finished by shaking my head sadly at her inability to comprehend the culture of our society.

She laughed easily and patted my arm. “Princess, nothing stays the same for too long.” Watching me roll my eyes, she shook her head. “OK, fine.” She continued. “You believe whatever you want, and we’ll talk about it later. We’ll see who’s right.”

To this day, she will raise the pitch of her voice a little bit and tease. “They’ll always be popular!” She mocks, and while I try for indignant, I end up being more amused. We giggle together. That’s actually one thing that’s stayed relatively constant over the years.

As the heat continues and the folks at work tell me it will only grow worse (How?! I ask. I already avoid going outside between 8AM-7PM! What more does this region want from me?!), I find myself walking to meetings through the miserable temperatures then pausing when I enter buildings. I’m pink from the heat, and sweating a bit – neither of which is part of the professional persona I wish to project. So I find a spot out of the way and just stand for a moment – get a drink, find a restroom to freshen my lip gloss and dab at my forehead. I’ve developed the habit of irritably informing my body it should “adjust already!” Cool down, level out, return to its normal color. It’s a very rare room where I can’t acclimate to the temperature, but those moments before the shift into comfort occurs are unpleasant. I feel overly warm, and out of place among the comfortable people who have been in this environment for longer than I.

The ability of people to adapt fascinates me. Always has. We’re capable of dealing with great pain and intense joy, yet somehow are able to fit in a routine. Go to work. Shop for groceries. Walk the dog. Talk to friends. Write a blog. There’s some sense of normalcy – a feeling that this is how life is going to be for the next little while. So I adjust. Wake up and know that I need to head out the front door with the dog pretty quickly or I’ll lose the motivation to wander the neighborhood. I should drink coffee soon after waking or the temptation to head back to bed becomes overwhelming. The chances of making it to the office diminish rapidly if I haven’t left by 9:30. If I don’t get some idea for dinner during the day, I might not eat. Likewise, if an idea for a post doesn’t happen, I’m likely to write garbage.

Those general rules – they help me understand myself. Once I know that mornings determine how the remainder of my day will play out, I’m careful with how I spent the first 2 hours I’m awake. I think that if I took a break from blogging, I wouldn’t come back. So I try to write every day. I believe that I – in some sense – get what I deserve. That if I’m predominantly kind and honest, good things will happen. So I bite back irritation, smile and engage in conversation when I’d rather be left alone, offer to help on projects where assistance is needed.

So why the initial story with Mom in the car? Because I think I’m spending too much time trying to adapt to a given instant in a constantly changing environment. Nothing stays the same for too long - Mom was right. My life has been spent in the academic world, and the nature of that world – at my level, anyway – is that people come and go. Move around, learning at each stop, then picking up to go meet new people who do your types of projects differently. So becoming too comfortable dealing with one particular collaborator isn’t overly efficient. I try to generalize concepts – understand that dealing with Dr. X teaches me to be more patient, while dealings with Dr. Y give me a new understanding of how to react to someone who’s overwhelmingly condescending and mean.

I think there’s likely a balance – though I’m never good at finding it – between becoming comfortable and effective in my surroundings, yet open to continued change. Letting people and situations evolve and giving myself the time to stand in the corner and acclimate to the changes. Instead I fight it – refuse to accept it until it’s clear there’s no alternative, then struggle to make it fit in my mind.

That’s not very clear, is it? This is why I talk to you in examples – it makes more sense. OK. This blog. I started out alone, which was good, and people started reading about the time I was getting antsy for them to do so. That was really nice. What else is good? The new readers – I love having new people comment, finding their blogs. My link list is relatively large, so perhaps I should introduce some of my new favorites in case you haven’t all met each other. The Repressed Librarian is newest, I think. With her pretty pictures and lovely template (I’m slightly jealous, yes. It took me long enough to just change my header picture – I can’t imagine doing the whole page.) Propter Doc (Her job is harder than mine by far, though I think she complains much less than I do. Probably a lesson there, right?) is obviously brilliant and though she's big on tea while I survive on coffee, I think we could still be friends. I love JustMe. Taking on too much work, having crushes and getting hurt, talking about church – she sometimes reminds me (only in good ways) of myself. Apparently is also wonderful – I laugh a lot when I read her. After all, she is hilarious. Ceresina strikes me as wise for some reason, perhaps because she has knowledge on my 'fear of teaching' situation which I don't yet know. DRD, who's been around almost as long as I have, though I didn't find her right away, wrote about a similar struggle between wanting to make new friends and knowing you'll lose them.

So that’s wonderful – I love that new people (to me, not necessarily to blogging) read! But I find myself reading old posts – old comments – and missing people who used to be here. The interesting part about blogs is that there’s absolutely no obligation to keep reading. I’ve stopped reading a few sites – sometimes I just got too busy and had to cut some out. Other times I’ve found myself vaguely upset and decided it wasn’t worth the effort. So I understand that the identity and number of readers changes – sometimes due to my content, other times having nothing to do with me at all. It’s hard to tell. It is something I think about – especially as I’ve reached the point where I’ve been here for a little while now. ScienceWoman – my very first commenter – took a break, and I missed her. I wasn’t aware until Monday that phd me read me anymore, though I keep up with her. Charlie and I email, and I think he’s wonderful beyond adequate description, but site stats don’t lie. He reads less than he once did. Dryden – charming, brilliant, and author of some incredible comments on past posts – is taking a break. Veronica and I got to be friends, which was amazing, but have lately lost touch.

Things change.

So. I guess I’m not so upset about the post yesterday and those that are certain to mimic it in the future. This site – for as long as you want to read it – isn’t likely to change a whole lot. I’m a creature of habit – I write posts in the evening for the most part. I talk about work and like my job, though I often feel inadequate. I love my family a great deal, though I don’t see them nearly as much as I used to. I wish I was with someone, but being single is going to be a constant for quite some time, I fear. (Though I hope not forever. Please, please, please not forever.) I’ll likely never figure out my relationship with God completely, though I hope to make some progress. My friends are fantastic, but they're all far away. I sigh and try to elicit sympathy then attempt some hopeful conclusion. Pretty much every day.

But I’m here – clinging to happy times and trying to figure out how to make them last longer. Having trouble getting motivated because I’ve been depressed and developed a mild habit of spending the majority of my time alone lately. Getting too attached to people and routines, though I know that at some point everything shifts a bit. It’s better, I think, to be slightly hurt when I lose someone than to not care at all. Plus, new people show up when I need them. Online and off.

Oh, and to end this on a lighter note, and to convince most of you to avoid me like the plague? The “They” I started with? New Kids on the Block. I’m shamefully serious (and now pretty embarrassed). Poor Mom deserves some kind of award for dealing with me.

11 comments:

phd me said...

Yep, I still read, every day that you post. With Bloglines, though, I don't have to physically show up to keep up - one drawback to Bloglines, I think, that distance between reader and engaging blog. Plus, you always end up saying things so well, I can't think of anything interesting to say myself. :)

ceresina said...

NKotB!! Like, omigod, they were *so* *cool*!
(Okay, so I might not remember the lingo right, but I sure remember them.)
And I *ahem* didn't see that you had asked for more info about teaching. I'll remember what I was thinking & get back to you...

Anonymous said...

So I started to write this post on Tuesday and stopped, but since you referred back to that post, I'm giving it another try.

I, for one, am glad you try hard to write every day, even when the topic seems mundane (or even terrible or lame). Your posts almost always make me smile in recognition of a common thought or idea. They're good because they're simple, open and honest.

It's a good thing you check the logs because, as phd_me already said, it's not always easy to contribute much more than a "me too" or "yup." Posts aren't an indicator of impact.

So keep writing as long as the habit suits, and we'll keep reading (and occasionally providing encouraging comments).

Doug

post-doc said...

phd me-
I'm ridiculously flattered that you continue to read. You've always been a favorite.

Ceresina-
OK, but they were very cool! And I was young. I had the little buttons and posters and magazines. However, I got the flu and wasn't able to attend the concert. It was, as I'm sure you'll understand, a crushing blow. Mom took Brother and they stayed for one song - neither of them shared my appreciation for fine music, obviously. Embarrassing. (More for me than for them, but whatever.)

Doug-
You actually mentioned something I worry over. Within many pieces of life - hobbies, relationships - I wonder if it's just a phase. That, like my obsession with NKOTB, someday I'll look back and think, "Huh. Remember when I wrote my blog? That was interesting." It's important to me right now and it makes me sad to think that someday I'll stop doing it. Which was kind of the point of the whole post, right? The futility of clinging to the present and avoiding inevitable change? Perhaps eventually I'll apply the lessons I'm trying to learn here.

Repressed Librarian said...

Thank you for linking to my baby blog and for the compliments about the design (I have spent entirely too many hours on it!).

I am looking forward to working my way through your archives as well, catching up on everything I have missed these past months. I am also in a location with no friends or family, and I struggle with many of the same issues, although I don't write about them too often. Not yet, anyway.

I'm slowly moving my archives over--I have about six weeks to go, so the blog history should be complete in a few days.

Anonymous said...

Clinging to the present may be futile in the long-term, but as with NKOTB you should enjoy it while it lasts.

The big problem with change is that it seems to come in bursts. You try to change a part of your life that you don't like, but you end up losing a bunch of things you do like in the process.

Doug

ceresina said...

Dude! I so wasn't giving you a hard time about NKotB. Just about the attitude that music engenders in teeny-boppers. You shouldn't be ashamed; they were fun music that teen-agers had/have every right to love. I forget what mine was, because I wasn't very cool, but I came a high-school generation before you, so you probably wouldn't know them anyway. :-)
And ditto to the love reading you. You have such a specific voice, and tell stories so nicely, it's always a pleasure to read -- even if I have nothing "worth" posting as a response.

ScienceWoman said...

I'd forgotten that I was your first commenter. Although lately I have not always had the time or energy to read many blogs (much less work on my own), know that my blog friends are in my thoughts many times each day.

AS for NKOTB, I think my first tape ever was theirs, as a gift for my 7th (?) birthday. At that same party, I also got a door poster of them.

DrOtter said...

Ahh, NKotB...they made the UK but I was a wee bit too young to pay them much attention. (was more interested in science geek stuff)
I'm always amazed anyone reads my blog so thank you very much for being so nice about it. Makes me feel warm and glowy!
I prefer browsing around blogs manually...bloglines seems a little detached. But I may have to set it up soon to be quicker at keeping up with everyone...so I'm still reading!

post-doc said...

JustMe-
Those huge buttons? They had little cardboard pieces on the back so you could prop them up on your dresser. Like picture frames! I had, um, more than one. :)

I think you're wonderful, so the idea that you'll one day stop reading or I'll stop writing makes me sad. But it's no fun to be sad, so yes, I won't think about it too much. Doug's right about that - enjoying the moment is important.

Repressed Librarian-
I understand the lure of changing templates and battling blogger all too well, though I did set a fairly simple goal for myself - I just change header images. And that's plenty.

I'm not one of those people who deflects questions with "check the archives!" That said, I go back and read through some of my old stuff, which amuses me. But that's why it's there. I'm still quite pleased you're around.

Doug-
Exactly! Change is rarely completely positive or negative. It just is. I tend toward timid though, so if I can avoid losing something I like, I'll try to do that. Not so brave.

Ceresina-
I've laughed hard at both your comments. Dude, you're delightful! Oh, and I was right about you being wise, Professor. :) I'm glad the class is going so well for you.

Yes, ScienceWoman, you were first, and if memory serves, you told me not to be so hard on myself. Still applies today, so you're good at the commenting. :) I know you're busy lately, so you're sweet to keep reading. No pressure though! Something has to give sometimes, and blogs make sense.

Propter Doc-
Aw, I'm glad you feel warm and glowy! I adore bloglines, but I do think I might actually click over and read posts on the actual blogs. I started out doing that, then just found it slightly quicker to read from within bloglines. But it's different - a little - to actually see the template and colors and pictures formatted nicely.

Traveler-
I read your comment from my email account, but I don't see it here! I shall respond regardless because I enjoy you a great deal and noticed you haven't posted much lately. I too get nervous about leaving comments - even on your site! And I agree - your English teacher was very likely correct. It's a process - life, grad school, what have you - and figuring out how to deal with it is an important part of the puzzle.

Blogs help me do that, so I'm pleased we're all around. I read a lot more than I write, so I'm quite flattered that you all find something worthwhile here. It matters to me.

ceresina said...

Okay, so now I'm blushing.

I've posted an explanation about the teaching on my blog. Let me know if I come across as harsh, because I don't mean to be, but I'm not very good at reading my tone.

Post a Comment