Asperatus

I interpreted my horoscope as meaning that seemingly rough times are only a means to my landing on me feet; like growing pains. If you're friends with me on Facebook, you might have noticed something of a status update rant from me today:

I believe that this is the first actual complaint I've posted on Facebook since I've moved. Previous to this, I may have made some observations about New England (ie "it's hot", "it's humid" etc), but I've been very careful not to complain. This was move was after all, MY choice and I've been trying to just live through the "firsts" as a Californian on the East Coast. Besides my pride, I'm not sure why I've been so tight lipped about any negative experiences. Is it the quarter century's worth of Vitamin D and C that has motivated this openness and enthusiasm for change? Maybe it's just a sense a humility, and referring to my previous post, just having the instinct to know that the new kid can't/ shouldn't be making any demands. Regardless of the precise pathology, my Facebook update came 36 hours after sitting on the thought, several drafts later, and finally reaching a point of having to share. 

Now that I've been out here for over 3 months, I've gotten used to as much as I can: getting on and off the T (train), humidity, using the buses, the cobblestone streets while wearing heels, driving aggressively (but safely), impending inclement weather, impatience for small talk etc... Speaking of small talk, if you were to ask my boyfriend (who I moved here with) about my first social experiences with Bostonians, he will gladly tell you about my interactions with the local movers, RMV (in CA we call it DMV), city officials, etc. These people were NOT about to have any small talk with me. And by small talk, I'm talking tiny like "hi, how are you?" or if I was ever to ask for additional information etc. There were no smiles, no gracious efforts to assist, no interest to be more helpful. BAD CUSTOMER SERVICE. But I'm over that. I get it. I'm not supposed to go out of my way for them, because that's not what they want, nor would they go out of their way for me. And I'm not supposed to take it personally-- it's "cultural." 

When I was making my way across the country by car, there were consistent remarks/advice about my move to Boston from Cali: from developing a thick skin to the awful weather to just being aware of the off-putting nature of Mass-holes, I was warned to watch myself. I got the feeling that as a Californian, I'd be a target, which I prepared myself for. And up until now, I think I've been doing really well. As many other displaced Californians have also testified to, I'm consistently told that I went the wrong way: it's supposed to be East to West, not the other way around. As the gracious Californian that I am, I joke about my backwards move, I do the whole "yes, I miss the sunshine" or "oh gosh it was so humid when I first got here" and "yea, I know, what will I do this winter? Multi-vitamins and tanning beds! Har har!" Up until now, I just saw this as small talk, but I obviously and very obliviously, I forgot about the #1 rule of small talk in the North East: get that shit out of here.

For the first time, the question of my origin wasn't just small talk: it was a deciding factor in the decision to hire me (or not). This position was pretty amazing. It really could've changed my life and created some cray cray opportunities that I hadn't imagined before and I was a shoo-in. My professional experience, references, and personality had landed me in the finalists' pool consisting of me and only one other. I dressed the part, wrote thank you notes, prepped and prepped... But you guessed it, I was the runner up. My recruiter informed me that the company decided to go with the person who was based out of the area. As soon as he told me that I didn't get it, I knew that it was because my home state is beautiful. Too beautiful. Sooo beautiful and perfect that there is no way I would stay out here in awful New England long enough pay off the investment they'd make in me. In each of the 4 interviews I had with them, the issue of me moving back to California came up. It was a concern from the start, but I had underestimated that California would outweigh my qualifications/ potential. 

So here I am, 36 hours after I got the news and I'm bummed. Specifically, I'm bummed because there isn't much I can do to prove that I won't move back at the first sign of snow, especially to native New Englanders. I mean, I totally get it: the prospective employers were afraid and were looking out for themselves. I get it.  And again, these people aren't happy California cows, they are New Englanders.

Willem Lange, a pretty well-known New Englander (who doesn't even have a Wikipedia page), famously wrote:

“What New England is, is a state of mind, a place where dry humor and perpetual disappointment blend to produce an ironic pessimism that folks from away find most perplexing”

Thanks, Willem. Thanks. I don't know what's more perplexing: my perception of New England, or New England's perception of me. 

If you're friends with me on Facebook, you'll know that I have other very promising prospects for employment. And if you're friends with me off of Facebook, you'll also know that I've got other plans in place for my time here. But if you're neither, just know that I'm fine. I'm just at this point now that the undulatus asperatus that I see when I look up at the cloud formations above me have yet to be understood. If the asperatus cloud rarely ever brings a storm, I should see it as a good thing right? But at what cost should a storm be avoided? Am I supposed to be ashamed my California roots? Does my initiation to New England have to include perpetual disappointment leading to the development of genuine ironic pessimism? 

A previous horoscope has given me hope that I will be able to look back at these experiences with a comforting sense of meaning, like it all had to be done to get to December:

Here's the horoscope I would like to be able to write for you by the first week of December: "Congratulations, Aquarius! Your quest for freedom has begun to bear tangible results. You have escaped a habit that had subtly undermined you for a long time. You are less enslaved to the limiting expectations that people push on you. Even your monkey mind has eased up on its chatter and your inner critic has at least partially stopped berating you. And the result of all this good work? You are as close as you have ever come to living your own life -- as opposed to the life that other people think you should live."

In conclusion, I know that I'm different and different often means scary. So I'm scary. I get that I'm not from here and therefore cannot be as easily read or trusted by natives to this area. BUT unlike the New England rule about small talk, my #1 rule is to never cock-block youself. I realize now that my motivation to never complain about how different/ scary it is out here is because I refuse to be scared out of having an experience. I will persevere, and most importantly, small talk or not, will never cock block myself. 

Now, I'm going to put on my Tupac shirt, California sweat pants, put on some West Coast rap, and make myself a carne asada burrito with french fries in it. 

SHE gets it done

My boyfriend and I were driving through the Longwood area in Boston today during the morning rush hour. The street was bustling with activity: suicidal bikers, impatient drivers, power-walking pedestrians, and school-kids being yanked by a parent. The crosswalk guard blew her whistle and we stopped to let a woman and two children cross the street. The little girl was probably around 8, and the little boy looked 5 or 6 but he was in a stroller (and he was screaming his head off). I noticed them immediately because I identified with boy's emotion-- I didn't want to be up or stuck in traffic with all these fools, but my boyfriend felt otherwise: "He's too old to be in a stroller! I would just make him walk." Dang. Logically, I had to disagree with him. My reasoning this time? If I had to take a kid out of the house, like really HAD TO, and he was screaming like that (assuming that it started at the house, assuming they were coming from home), I would stick him in a stroller too! I'd rather push a screaming kid on wheels than drag him-- a body doesn't glide well on sidewalk (and then there'd be added cleanup). I don't think my boyfriend looked at it that way. 

Disagreeing on how we would handle any given situation is pretty typical for us, but I think it stems from our differing perspectives: My perspective is motivated by pragmatism, experience, and prioritizing. As a woman, these skills are required. For example, when I go to the grocery store nowadays, I have to figure out how much weight I can physically carry over the distance of a mile, to get the food back to my apartment in tact. Since I've moved, I no longer get the luxury of parking, so I have to be all old school and walk. Walking is a huge commitment. I can't just load up my cart with snacks and gallons of Snapple. Luckily though, Nilla Wafers/ Tate's Cookies are pretty light. And powdered tea is too. Oh the days where I only had to walk from the parking lot to my apartment.... So this multistep process involves finding a recipe or two, then making a specific list and cross checking it to what I already have on my shelf, and then estimating what I am capable of hauling home-- and on top of that, making sure I'm not breaking the bank. Exhausting. Being thoughtful is exhausting. BUT it's something I picked up, and I attribute that to my gender. 

From what I've seen, heard, and experienced myself, girls aren't raised to think they're invincible, aggressive, and powerful. Rather, we're raised to think we are precious, polite, and patient. I won't get into how fucked up all that is, but instead let's think on how that and other traditions of raising girls has created some (unintentional) gifts. I grew up knowing that I had to make up for my physical strength using strategy. I learned how to use my sensitivity and intuition to read situations and make decisions accordingly. I have just enough confidence to know to be cautious (I walk the streets of Boston w/ purpose-- I know it's better to look like I know where I'm going). I'm paranoid enough to parking signs four times (I'm not the one who got my car towed- AHEM). Survival skills, right? 

So all this has me thinking about the differences between men and women, and even moreso, what is women's competitive edge? I think our competitive edge comes from the life we've been forced to lead; the fact that we are not typically aggressors but instead the evaluators, the planners. Maybe it's just me, but I've been noticing this characteristic in women being celebrated, and at the very least, discussed (finally). 

Earlier this year HBO released a documentary called _Manhunt: The Search for Bin Laden_. It featured several female analysts who were integral in piecing together the puzzle of Bin Laden's whereabouts. What they mentioned throughout the piece was a) the women's natural talent for stringing seemingly unrelated pieces of intel together to create a narrative; b) how no one listened to them once they figured things out; and c) how little credit they received for the work they did/do. Check out the trailer here:

Manhunt: Trailer

Another film that directly addresses what I'll call today's "woman problem" is _Miss Representation_. It really helped me think through situations like Miley Cyrus sitting naked on a giant wrecking ball. My favorite line from this film is "we are a nation of teenage boys." I'd add, "we are a nation of corporations run by filthy rich teenage boys that vote." Think about it. Sex sells... but what kind of sex, who's watching, and who's buying?

This is all coming to a head for me because of something a lot more stimulating than Miley Cyrus's gyrations: politics; and for the the cherry on top: women in politics. As of today, the government shutdown has been shutdown itself after just over 2 weeks. With the debt ceiling deadline being tomorrow, it was critical that Congress get their shit together and come to some kind of agreement that would keep our nation going at good financial standing. Many, including the NY Times, are attributing this sudden moment of progress to female members of congress. 

One headline from the HuffPost on this subject is titled, "Leadership From the Foot of the Table":

One reason is that most women say they come to office in order to effect policy change, unlike many men, who are motivated by their own sense of personal leadership.

Rarely having had the advantage of command and control that comes from the head of the table, women have learned lessons from the foot: how to bring people together to think outside the box (which includes failing then adapting), and how to build mutual respect and trust.

Women in Congress have done this by co-sponsoring bills, particularly those that affect women and children, and regularly meeting for dinners to deepen their relationships.

On Monday, NY Times published "Senate Women Lead Effort to Find Accord" which was about Republican Senators Susan Collins, Kelly Ayotte, and Lisa Murkowski:

Together the three women started a bipartisan group whose negotiating framework formed the centerpiece of a tentative Senate deal nearing completion Monday to reopen the federal government and avert a disastrous default.

Did you see the keyword in that excerpt? BIPARTISAN. Unlike the rest of their party, these Republican women have chosen to do the jobs they were elected to do: keep the country running regardless of party schemes; "politics be damned" as Sen. Murkowski said.

Why are these women willing to betray their party for the greater good? What makes them willing to sacrifice another term/ their popularity to do what's right? Do they know the plight of the federal workers being furloughed? I think that being at the "foot of the table" offers a unique perspective that usually involves creativity, pragmatism, and the ability to prioritize what's necessary to achieve desired results. I retract my earlier statement about it being a "gift"-- gifts are given consciously and we have been gifted/given nothing: we TOOK this from the circumstances we are allowed to exist in.

In the end, let's just say that I can put together a couple of bomb-dinners with 3 good totes and 1 trip to the store.