Is that a Pedestal I'm standing on?

What kind of short-cuts do you make each day? Little things that don't matter, but they get you someplace a little faster; makes a job seem a little easier. How do you treat the people around you? Do you show patience? Impatience? Respect? Disdain? Now, ask yourself... who watches you? What kind of example do you set for the people that look up to you, or look to you for direction? What are you saying with your actions that reenforce (or negate) what you say in words? I posted a 'snippet' on my facebook page (http://www.facebook.com/tina.hammond.5661) that got me thinking about how kids grow up these days and why they don't seem to have 'the values' that I was taught when I was young. It got me thinking about two things I remember happening in my life that reminded me that we (as the older generation as well as adults, in general) are often looked up to as examples to the people around us.

I lived in Germany between 1988-1992. I was walking with a friend and we came to an intersection with a light signal. I stood for a moment and gauged traffic before stepping off the curb to cross the street even though there was a “Do Not Walk” signal... I mean, come on, I'm an adult, I can see there are no cars coming. I was a couple of steps into the crosswalk when I realized my friend was still at the corner. I asked him why he was waiting. Profoundly he replied (and I paraphrase), “I know there are no cars coming, by if I cross against the light, what example am I giving to the kinder (children)? If I cross the street, they will feel the light has no meaning, and that is not the example I wish to set for them.” I have never crossed against the lights since then.

When I was at a class reunion (my 25^th, I think), I was sitting by a classmate that I remembered from school, but never really thought about them as a close friend or someone I hung out with; she made a remark to me that when we had been in school, I was someone she had looked up to. I don't remember her exact words, but I was surprised and a little startled that there was a person as far back as high school, that had looked to me as an example. I had no idea. I was a jock, not someone who ran around with a popular crowd. I kept to myself or with a VERY tight circle of a couple of people I had grown up with since I was in elementary school. This got me thinking about how we unknowingly could be an example to anyone that feels we strike a chord in them, maybe we remind them of someone, we do an act or action that inspires them to 'be like' us. And I was sad that I had to little awareness of this, or any other person, who looked to me as an example.

We never know who is watching our actions, good or bad. We don't always realize that by being rude, ignoring laws (even simple ones), or by standing back and not taking action when action is called for, can be observed by the very child that talks back at you, comes home with a speeding ticket, or gets hit by a car for running out onto the street. But if we try to keep ourselves aware that we may be watched by people that are looking at us to show them the right way to do things, maybe we will make different choices. So ask yourself... who is looking up to me? If a child was walking beside you everyday, what changes would you make to be a better example to them? 

So, how many of you are going to start waiting for the “Walk” sign to flash?

Armchair Obama Critic

Its real easy to look at politics from an armchair and make comments like "If I was in charge..." or "Who picked this guy/gal (representative) anyway?" or "Who's idea was it to make gas prices so high?" or "How come nothing is being done about ...?"

Looking at the debates, petitions, and news articles online, there is a lot of information available of questionable content and origin, and even more questions about the right solutions. I see ObamaCare being picked apart, but those same vultures are not offering up their solution. I see the results of polls that question everything from whether the economy is better (or worse) in the last few years to should we reduce taxes? Just yesterday, I was talking to friends about why gas is so expensive in Washington State. Well, duh! How many of us voted to reduce our license tabs to $30 per year (when we had been paying hundreds per year)? Where did we think the money was coming from? I believe our thinking at the time was we WANTED to increase gas taxes because the people driving the most (and by extension, purchasing the most fuel) were the ones that should pay for the road repairs. This was how we reallocated the reduced tab fees... we voted for it people!

Shall I state the obvious? The people in charge are the voters (to some degree) -- the problems I see are lack of political education and lack of involvement. Of the people complaining, how many participated in the election process (how many are registered voters that actually take the time to fill out a ballot)? How many of those voters researched their candidates and read about the issues they were voting on? How many voters think that reading the lawn sign that says "Vote on proposition XX to reduce class sizes" is all they need to know before voting Yes (or No)? And then when the proposition passes, they bitch about the increase in taxes- because they never questioned where the money for new teachers and classrooms were coming from. I use this example in particular because I was approached outside WalMart (yeah, I know - the evil empire) to sign a petition to reduce class sizes to 25 kids per room... I asked the petition person, how would the extra classrooms and teachers be funded? He said "Well, I don't know. But there are 40 kids per teacher right now, we need to reduce the class sizes." I replied, "Well if there are 40 kids per teacher (is this even true? I have no idea), that seems like too many, but how can I sign a petition to reduce classroom size if you don't have a solution?" Needless to say, I didn't sign... not because I don't believe that kids will probably learn more and get a better education in a class of 25 students, but because it is irresponsible to bitch about a situation and not present an option to make a change work. I anticipate there will be a bill passes to reduce class sizes... then everyone will complain because a (questionably needed) program is cut or a tax is raised... see comments about gas prices above.

Am I the only one that reads the pamphlet that comes out with major elections describing the candidates and their platform/experience? I read the propositions, bond issues, amendments, and other propaganda in hopes of making an informed decision before casting my vote. If I have no opinion, I leave that item on the ballot blank; or, in the matter of some candidates, I will vote AGAINST a person/bill ... I mean really, how many times have we had a good pool of representatives to chose from, or a proposition seems incomplete or not logical? Where do they get some of these people on our ballots? I know in a couple of presidential elections, I wasn't so enthused about my candidate as I was appalled at the opposite candidate (take Sarah Palin, for example... she scared me, I would have voted for just about anyone rather than see her as VP. And I accepted that a party that would elect her for the presidential ticket did not have MY best interest at heart).

Can you do better? Well, what are the steps to get involved with the process? Start at a local level with city council maybe? Involve yourself with an election campaign? For all those people that say "I could do better" - well, why aren't you doing better? If you have the answer, have you sent it to your representative(s)? Did you vote?  I know, the cop-out is "But there's no-one to vote for" (in my case, I voted for the lesser evil), but is that really an excuse for bitching from our chairs and couches? When is the last time you wrote a letter to a representative or the editor of your local newspaper? What are YOU doing to get people thinking?

I voted for Obama. Has he kept his campaign promises? Nope, not all of them. Is it because he's a jerk? A liar? Incompetent? My personal opinion? I think he was voted into a situation that has made him struggle uphill for the past 4 years or so. Our country was (is) in a mess... speaking as someone who lost their house to foreclosure, it started long before he was elected, and much of the fall-out (Wall Street and the housing crash) were the results of things in motion before he was elected. He's spent a lot of his term cleaning up after the prior President's Party (yes, pun intended). The opposition (in Congress and the House) seems more focused on making Obama a one-term President then trying to compromise and pass legislation that will help Americans to pull out of the recession. I for one, don't think they are earning their salaries over the past few years... and don't get me started on Congressional/ House salaries. How many of us vote ourselves a raise? How many of us have one type of health plan and vote on the details of a different plan for the people we represent? How many of us get full benefits and pensions for life after finishing a 2 or 4 year term with an employer? But hey... that's another fight for a different day.

Is ObamaCare our medical solution? I think there are a lot of adjustments that need to be made... but I am happy that SOMEthing is being started that we can work on and adjust over time as we discover what works and what doesn't.

Lost in the 90's

I lost myself in 1991 when I turned 31. The first diagnosis was bipolar depression, but years later another doctor amended that to severe depression. To me it doesn't matter - either way you slice it a huge chunk of my identity was torn away in a matter of months.

We all carry a self-image of who we are and what our impact is on the people/events that surround us. I had not been aware of this self-image until I looked in the metaphorical mirror and didn't recognize myself anymore. Its kinds scary, not to mention life-altering.I first noticed the symptoms soon after I started divorce proceedings with my first husband, Donald. Strangely enough, the idea that I could have been symptomatic during my marriage didn't occur to me until the last few years. To this day, I wonder if the onset of the symptoms were a major or minor contributor to my perceptions of my happiness with this man who is really a pretty good guy... yeah, there were problems, but I wonder if the depression affected my thoughts as to whether is was a salvageable situation or not. Hard to say.

If you refer back to earlier posts, you may understand the HUGE gulf between being dependent on a mind like a steel trap and finding myself confused when I sat down in front of my computer one day and agonized over turning it on. It was as if the action was a pivot point that would force me into a further series of actions and reactions I wasn't prepared for. Weird, right? I remember sitting in front of a blank screen and agonizing over the consequences of pressing a button. I knew that if I turned on the computer, I would be faced with using it. To put this in perspective, my first computer was a Commodore (1979) that hooked into the TV set (as the computer screen), in my 20's I was in charge of IBM System 32 mainframe computers (input and data mining), and had been a beta tester for numerous proprietary programs developed in many of the companies I worked for.  I have a gift for sitting down in front of the computer, opening a program, and figuring out how it works. I have taught myself database programs, spreadsheet formulas, and website design - so I am not a shrinking violet when it comes to a computer challenge.

It was very frightening to sit in my chair that one morning and find myself intimidated at the idea of turning on my desktop. It was the day I realized I was [literally] losing my mind. I don't remember if I turned it on or not. What is frozen in my mind is the fear and the confusion of not being able to make a decision. I just remember sitting in the chair, staring at a blank screen.

Very soon after this incident, I started to see a psychiatrist as I recognized I wasn't acting like the person I wanted to be.  We started experimenting with drugs (the prescription kind)... lithium is NOT my friend! Damn, that stuff made me physically ill. I also was told I would never be the person I was. I no longer had my "total" recall, and I was confused when I tried to recall info that I KNEW. I was frustrated with myself. I lost my self image, the person I identified as a contributing and vital person. I still remember the shock when the doctor told me I would never be that person again. It can probably be compared to looking in a mirror one morning and finding I was a tall blond (instead of a short brunette). How do you make sense of something like that?

Sometime during the beginning of treatment, I started to get suicidal thoughts. I would image how fast I would have to be driving when I hit a tree or drove off an overpass to guarantee I would not survive. There were a lot of scenarios that ran through my brain, usually when I was driving, or walking. None of the thoughts drifted towards firearms or anything that would involve the guilt of another person (like stepping in front of a vehicle). The main consistency was that my death would be final... I didn't want someone to "find" me later and save me. My thoughts weren't a cry for help (that's what I was seeing a doctor for), I wanted it to be over. It was bad enough that I was no longer a person I recognized, I was just terribly unhappy. I was also in mourning for the old, familiar me.  I didn't want to be a new me-- I wanted the old me back. I didn't want to drag myself through each day, fully cognizant of what was missing.

I don't remember thinking of taking pills to commit suicide, but it must have been there somewhere... I remember making an appointment to see my doctor, gathering up all the medicine in my medicine cabinet, and taking it all with me to the appointment. I remember saying to him, "you need to take this stuff or I'm going to." Very dramatic, I know, never let it be said I was boring. We discussed whether I should check into a hospital, but I told him I think the anxiety of not being able to work (which has always been a big part of my identity) would be more detrimental, so we agreed I would check in with him daily (by phone) and our appointments were escalated to weekly (maybe every couple of days). We both agreed I didn't want to kill myself and that I recognized I was in distress, and that these thoughts were not how I normally felt. We put more focus on the meds, and at some point, the thoughts started to go away.

There is a lot of time in these years that I don't remember too well (such as events, timelines, etc). To this day, I am still confused by lapses in my memories; its like portions of my life are missing completely, jumbled or disjointed to a point I wonder what is real and what were thoughts I had when I broke. I suppose at this point it doesn't matter.

Twenty years later, I still miss the old me. That was a person I liked. The new me is not so bad, but who is to say I won't wake up one day and find a chubby redhead looking back? There is a level of trust that is gone. And if you can't trust yourself, then what's left?

Government 1 - Me 0

The arthritis is getting to the point it is hard to use my hands (thank goodness I only use a couple of fingers to type!). My arthritis symptoms are almost non-existent if I can afford the weekly Enbryl injections. I never thought I'd be giving myself shots- its amazing what pain levels can do to one's attitudes and perceptions.

Depending on the pharmacy, you would probably be quoted about $550 per shot.  I need shots on a weekly basis to keep the swelling and pain under control. Except for a little swelling, one would never know I had arthritis when the drugs have had a chance to build up in my system. I had applied to the Foundation that supplies Enbryl at reduced or no cost to those of us without medical insurance, but I was told that since I make UNDER $10k per year, I would have to be rejected by Medicaid before they could continue my application process... Note: If I made OVER 10k, I was led to believe I would qualify for 1 year of Enbryl - after which time, I assume I would be reevaluated.

I finally decided to go to the DSHS office (back in the day, we called it the Welfare office) to see if I could get medical benefits. The lady at the information counter was nice enough to tell me that if I was only there to get Medical benefits, it would take approximately 3 months to get an appointment [at this point I think I growled and showed her my "mean" face, but she bravely continued], if I applied for food stamps (i.e. EBT food card) or cash benefits, then the medical benefits would be tied into the same interview which they could conduct that day. So began the first time I have ever applied for Welfare.

After almost 2 hours waiting, The interview (it may have lasted 15-20 minutes) went fairly smoothly with me answering all the questions (The woman, maybe mid-twenties, verbally asked every question on the form I was required to fill out and hand over to her. Why fill out the form? Obviously they had to keep a printer in business; it sure wasn't so she could refer to it for information when she had a question). I told her I had no income and have not had income for the past year- I have been living with my sister Laurie who pays the rent, utilities, and some food bills. I pay the assorted bill whenever I garage-sell something from storage (from when I had a life) - refrigerator, water heater,  dresser, collectable... whatever.

I was rejected for Medical benefits - I can't prove I didn't have income. Yep, only the government could come up with a phrase like that. The fact I sold personal items to keep myself afloat (in conjunction to Laurie's footing the living expenses) does not compute in their vast, far-reaching, tax-payer paid computer system. On the aside, I was also rejected for monthly cash, because I can't prove I can't work - I guess the swollen, arthritic hands were not, in her medical opinion, reason enough for me to be granted a reasonable doubt. I will add at this point, she never once asked my if I had a doctor's slip to confirm the severity of the condition... I had at one point mentioned that if I had the medication, my disability would go away and I could work (and would be happy to do so). I DID get $200 in food benefits- I guess the fact I wasn't completely emaciated was proof enough that I was able to eat food.

Such is the irony of benefits. I've worked hard and continuously since 1977, paying into the tax and social security system - yet I can't get medical benefits when I truly need them. While a 23 year old kid I know was telling my sister how his government benefits would be paying to get the 26 cavities (I kid you not!) fixed.

Needless to say, I'll be submitting my appeal. I'll probably lose because I still won't be able to prove I didn't have income. Sigh.

(Note 8/9/12): I forgot to update that the medicaid, cash benefits and foodstamps were all allowed. When I went to appeal, it turns out the processor had indicated that I could work, not that I was unable to work. So I have the medical insurance, but we are still doing the arthritis medications dance... Argggg! So frustrating. The war continues.

Startling similarities?

Dog Ownership. I have always been a dog person, but as any responsible owner can tell you, its important to research the type of dog you want before making a commitment to it. For me, a Jack Russell Terrier or a Lab are too much work... hyper dogs that require lots of me, me, me time. I've always gone for the German Shepherd Dog (GSD) with its mellow but protective presence.

But always remember, a dog is a dog. If your dog messes on the carpet because you didn't get home in time to let him out, or your leather slippers get chewed up because you haven't taught him "Leave It" or "this is YOUR toy box", or he follows you from room to room trying to get your attention because you forgot to fill the water dish... he's only acting according to his nature, and according to his needs. By accepting the responsibility of caring for a dog, you are accepting the quirks of his nature and you must be willing to live with your pet's needs. When my dog does something annoying such as barking, marking territory on my newly planted flowers, chasing cats (or, in my case, yanking my arm when he dashes to the end of the leash in an ATTEMPT to chase a cat), I always remind myself a dog is a dog. Your pet will act according to its nature and you signed on knowing this in advance.

Mmmmm, there are a lot of parallels between dog ownership and living with a man. You need to research them (dating?) and get a little back ground to discover his nature (stalking, err... I mean check out facebook, meet friends and family), check out living quarters (clothes strewn around, or a neat-freak) and make decisions as to if its a guy you can take out in public with you. But be aware, the dog may have the perfect nature for his breed but they also have a few idiosyncrasies that may not be readily apparent-- but its all part of responsible ownership.

Yep, a dog is a dog (and a man is a man), so don't be frustrated when it acts according to his nature.

Tyrant in the 80's

The early 1980's were good to me... unfortunately, I can't say the same for everyone around me. I knew it all - Really! I was not one of those geniuses that graduated from college at age 13 who went on to take the physics world by storm. No, I was one of those people that had the annoying ability to remember random facts especially if I read them; while I didn't have a photographic memory,  if I read it, I remembered it. Not exact wording, but the essence of the written word. Okay, not so annoying yet, right? But then, I could pull the book [for example] off the shelf and open it to about the right page (or at least reference the chapter) and remember approximately how far down the page my quoted reference was; then I could happily point it out to the person I was [usually] correcting. I was rarely wrong. Now THAT was annoying.

I started my first job when I was 17 as a bookkeeper. I have never been an accountant (although I have done "accounting" during my careers), realizing right away that I prefer the input and balancing of paperwork... financial statements were boring. I guess I wanted to do work I could control rather than bog my mind down in analysis of numbers that came from sources I didn't input myself. Control freak? Me? When I was in my early 20's (coincidentally in the early 1980's), I realized I had a head for patterns. I was really good at looking at something and knowing it was "off". So started my interest in auditing... usually auditing if there was a suspected problem. If the pattern looked "off" I could follow paperwork back to the hotel employee that was mis-posting cash receipts onto Comp ledgers (and pocketing the cash, of course). Or there was the audit I did on a casino in Carson City where I uncovered a keno runner and a supervisor paying out [to themselves I imagine] on losing keno tickets... the keno auditor I was temping for had been in on the scam too. These flashes of brilliance brought me to the attention of management. They were impressed with my technically ability and decided to make me a supervisor. How stupid is that?

I am lucky to have survived my early management career without being taken out by a sniper in a dark parking garage (please refer to paragraph 1 and my annoying habit of being right). All the smarts in  the world can never make up for lack of people skills. To this day, I still laugh at myself because the one class that dropped my A.A.degree GPA was Sociology (I got a C, can you imagine?). I was thinking "easy A" everyone says so. I studied. Cracked the spine on the textbook and actually did the homework. I didn't get it. People's behavior isn't logical. Sure, we do studies of why people do the things they do... but there is no logic to a lot of it - social behavior is based on a lot of emotional responses. Ohhh, shiny - I digress.

I was on paper the perfect person to be a supervisor. I excelled at my job [exceeds expectations], I could create a schedule, I could tell people what to do based on policies and procedures already put in place, I could enforce the rules and regulations with the full knowledge that I held an authority that comes with being right. When you walk into a job fully believing its "my way or the highway" without looking at people as people, you set yourself up for failure. Luckily for me, and the people that were working as my subordinates, my stint was short-lived. Until the next job, were it started all over again. The Peter Principle - promoted to my level of failure. Back in the 80's, there wasn't the same emphasis on employee satisfaction that we see in businesses today. Customer Service didn't really begin to be valued above speed and efficiency until the 1990's or so. Working for corporate America was brutal, and I was one of the brutes.

Change of Life - WTF?

Four Years ago life was on track. I finally finished my Gonzaga Masters degree in Organizational Leadership (what a GREAT program). I quit my job, which I loved, but the management had policies and objectives that didn't align with mine... it was time to do what I wanted to do. I had aspirations of working with Corporations that were trying to instigate change; finding a company that needed someone to help the people make that conversion- I have been successful in the past with start up companies/departments to get coworkers involved with the change, rather then leaving them adrift to be buffeted by changes they didn't understand and had no part of. So many companies don't take advantage of all the years of experience accumulated by staff - there are so many good ideas that management can make policies, procedures, and organizational restructures so much better with their input and cooperation. But, as always, I digress... it won't be the last time... Ohhhhh, Shiny.

I quit my nice cushy job and took a couple of months off to go fishin', an irony that will become apparent as the blog unfolds. When I rewrote my resume and started to submit it, I realized I was at the beginning of the recession that hit a lot of us.  There were no jobs - or, at least, no one was hiring a woman who had just turned 48. Thankfully, I had money in the bank, and a small 401K, so I was pretty confident I could ride it out for a couple more months until things stabilized. I was able to make my mortgage payments and luckily, I had just restructured my mortgage loan to get out of the ARM loan I had taken out (What a ripoff that is). I'm sure I'm not the only one that was mislead - who knew that at the end of the 3 years I would get 1.5 percent increases every few months (it was every three or every six, I don't remember anymore), and after awhile I was paying over 11 percent interest. House payments rose from $850 (including taxes and insurance) to over $1100 per month. Ooops, Shiny. See, I knew I would get off track again.

After six months, I was on unemployment. So much for that nice, new Masters degree. Did I mention the student loans? Sigh. Thank goodness for loan deferment. But really! Who thought that things would get this bad? Most average Americans probably didn't have any better an understanding than I did of the whole ARM loan debacle (or as I fondly call it, extortion), let alone had much awareness of what was being done by bankers and Wallstreet with the funds we had put aside for our retirement.I sure felt the impact. I watched my modest 401K dwindle as my unemployment benefits expired. So, you guessed it, I tapped the 401K to continue on with the mortgage and other living expenses. I was living with my Sweetie of 12+ years (at that time) and he made a great salary at his job, but our agreement was: The house was my responsibility (and in my name) and he would take care of the other bills. He was married, but had separated from his wife back in 1997 and we started living together at the time. He's a wonderful guy. I had never been happier. In the summer of 2009, things began to change-- or, more accurately, life changed.

In the Beginning, but sorta in the Middle

For some reason I always assumed I would be dead by 50.  As early as I can remember, it has always been in the back of my mind that I would die violently in a car crash... or more accurately, a fiery car crash. Its a weird feeling to go through so many years believing I would die by fire. I still jokingly tell people that I believe my last words will be "Oh Crap!" Those two words seem to encapsulate that helplessness we (as people) feel when we see the inevitability of a situation we have no control over. Such is my life - Oh Crap.

It wasn't always this way. Once I believed I was the captain of my ship; able to steer through rough seas and the petty squabbles of my fellow man. Not so. My life has been a constant education about myself and my abilities. Every so often I think about how smart I am, and a few years later look back on myself with mockery at how ignorant I really was. If you are any intelligent person, you will realize that our ongoing, daily challenges and triumphs will shape us into [hopefully] better people as we age.

I started this blog in the hopes of building up myself again. Somewhere along the line, I lost enough pieces of myself that I feel fractured. No longer whole. When I assumed I would die at 50, I had never imagined my fiery crash-and-burn would be metaphorical. I never imagined such a change in circumstances, outlook, peace within my self (or more accurately, a lack thereof), and feeling of loss. I never thought that once again, I would lose a large part of that "Something" that makes me, Me. This is not the first time I have felt my life has been altered in some huge, and drastic way. I can see it now- this is going to be a longgggggg blog.

Maybe by writing it all out, I can find those pieces that have been lost along the way. Hopefully at some point, I can regain my footing and take a few more steps forward in my life.