My brother just celebrated one of those milestone birthdays: his 60th. I still can’t quite believe I have a brother that age, or that next year will be my big milestone: 50. (Even as I write that, the inner child in me is throwing herself down on the rug and having a tantrum: “I don’t wanna grow up and you can’t make me!”)
At some point I started dreading, rather than celebrating, my birthday. I’d like to get back that sense of joyous anticipation I had when I couldn’t wait to be 6 or 10 or 18 or 21. Even my 30th, the one that so many women in particular seem to dread, was a pretty happy birthday. However, the following year, when I was suddenly “over 30,” may have been the start of the Great Birthday Avoidance.
I guess part of the problem is that I don’t feel much older than 30 mentally. Many of my friends are in their late 30s, and I don’t have much interest in the topics grown-ups tend to discuss, like mortgages, saving for the kids’ education, house renovations . . . so when I catch an unexpected glimpse of myself in a mirror or a reflection in a store window, I’m startled to see that middle-aged stranger staring back at me when I still feel like a kid much of the time (other than a few new aches and pains that tell me my body is moving forward whether the rest of me follows or not).
Of course, when I complain about getting old, my mother retorts, “If you think you’re old, imagine how I feel, having a daughter your age.” Good point. I hope I can age with the health and good attitude she has. I’m certainly struggling with the attitude.
I asked my brother, half-jokingly, if he felt old, and his immediate reply was “Nope.” He still has a boyish enthusiasm for playing with his two mini dachshunds, golfing, fishing, cooking, and life in general. I tried to look at him objectively a few times over the weekend, to see a 60-year-old man instead of my brother, but I couldn’t. I wonder if he still sees me as his kid sister, albeit maybe slightly less annoying now.
I suppose part of the fear of getting older are the inevitable losses. My eyesight has been going downhill for years -- reading for a living will do that. I’ve noticed a few physical things that are tougher for me to do now, and the groans and sighs that I sometimes make getting up or sitting down are becoming more frequent. Those occasional memory lapses -- I’ve already taken to grabbing pen and paper if anyone starts to tell me something that seems remotely important -- are still more annoying than scary. But each time I have to grope for a name or a detail, it makes me wonder: Is this the beginning of the mental decline?
When I hear Mom talk about so many friends and relatives of her generation who are gone, I know that I’ll be facing some serious losses in my life sooner now, rather than in the far distant future. (Granted, I could walk out the door tomorrow and be hit by a bus, and all this anxiety would be for naught -- but then again, deep inside, don’t we all figure we’re going to live to be at least in the 90s and die peacefully in our sleep?)
Of course, all this anxiety really is for naught, since there’s not a lot I can do about getting older. I’m not one of those who’s going to go the botox route or invest in a lot of those anti-aging creams. (My oil-prone skin, the bane of my teen/college years, has at least been a blessing in keeping me from too many wrinkles.) But I’m trying to eat better, do regular workouts, and I’m going to start going to the doctor more often. . . . Honest. Although more and more, when I’m at the doctor, the dentist, the optometrist, I hear “Well, at your age --” and I know there’s going to be another little bump on that life journey. On the other hand, maybe I should try to focus a little more on enjoying the journey and less on dreading the final stop.
LH
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
The Freelance Life
There’ll probably be more than one entry on the freelance life since it’s … well, my life, for nearly 10 years now. Like any job, it has its good and bad points, but overall, I wouldn’t go back to a regular 9 to 5.
If you’re a social person, freelancing may not be for you. Some days the only person I talk to is the doorman in my apartment building when I go to get the mail. And occasionally I don’t even get downstairs to do that. It can be a solitary life working from home, but I’ve always enjoyed being by myself.
A few general perks:
Working in sweats, T-shirts, shorts… Basically whatever’s clean. No shoes, no makeup, no putting on gloves, hat, scarf, coat, boots in the winter. (Yes, there are times I stand at my window on a snowy, blowy Monday morning and give a superior smile to the huddled masses waiting for the bus.)
You can adjust the thermostat to the temperature YOU want, and there’s always good coffee in the break room.
No managers hover over your shoulder. If you don’t have enough work to keep you busy, you don’t have to sit at your desk and hope you don’t get caught playing Free Cell.
Want to leave at 3:00? Go ahead. No paperwork, no permission needed.
On the other hand, if you like weekends and holidays off and a predictable schedule, you may not be cut out for freelancing. I often have more than one project going, which generally means working in the evenings and on the weekends. I’ve been known to work on Christmas and other major holidays. However, I can do grocery shopping and run errands on weekdays instead of having to wait until the weekend when places are crowded.
Some of my friends have said they admire my discipline in working from home. They claim they could never get up and start working in the morning. Being lazy was never really an option for me if I wanted to eat and pay rent! Besides, there’s really not that much discipline involved when you do something you love. Not to say that every day I wake up and dance down the hall to start working, but for the most part—unless I get a huge inheritance from some mysterious rich relative—I’m happy doing what I do.
LH
If you’re a social person, freelancing may not be for you. Some days the only person I talk to is the doorman in my apartment building when I go to get the mail. And occasionally I don’t even get downstairs to do that. It can be a solitary life working from home, but I’ve always enjoyed being by myself.
A few general perks:
Working in sweats, T-shirts, shorts… Basically whatever’s clean. No shoes, no makeup, no putting on gloves, hat, scarf, coat, boots in the winter. (Yes, there are times I stand at my window on a snowy, blowy Monday morning and give a superior smile to the huddled masses waiting for the bus.)
You can adjust the thermostat to the temperature YOU want, and there’s always good coffee in the break room.
No managers hover over your shoulder. If you don’t have enough work to keep you busy, you don’t have to sit at your desk and hope you don’t get caught playing Free Cell.
Want to leave at 3:00? Go ahead. No paperwork, no permission needed.
On the other hand, if you like weekends and holidays off and a predictable schedule, you may not be cut out for freelancing. I often have more than one project going, which generally means working in the evenings and on the weekends. I’ve been known to work on Christmas and other major holidays. However, I can do grocery shopping and run errands on weekdays instead of having to wait until the weekend when places are crowded.
Some of my friends have said they admire my discipline in working from home. They claim they could never get up and start working in the morning. Being lazy was never really an option for me if I wanted to eat and pay rent! Besides, there’s really not that much discipline involved when you do something you love. Not to say that every day I wake up and dance down the hall to start working, but for the most part—unless I get a huge inheritance from some mysterious rich relative—I’m happy doing what I do.
LH
Friday, August 14, 2009
"I love you"
I talk to my parents every Sunday. We’ve been doing this since I moved to Chicago from downstate nearly 10 years ago, and I don’t think we’ve missed a day unless I was actually with them. We end every conversation with “Love you” and “Love you too.” But over the years the phrase has become almost automatic -- for me, at least -- and I recently realized that I say those words with as little thought behind them as I say “Goodbye” or “See you later.” So I wanted to send an open letter to Mom and Dad to let them know what’s behind the words “I love you,” and to remind myself about how important these two people are in my life.
Dear Mom and Dad,
When I say “I love you,” I mean:
Thanks for being my biggest supporters and cheerleaders, even though I’m sure at times you wondered what the heck I was thinking. Because of your encouragement, I took some risks that have reaped great rewards, knowing I always had “a soft place to fall.”
I respect and admire your example of commitment and responsibility through 60-plus years of marriage; in particular, honoring “for better or for worse; in sickness and in health” over the last couple of years.
Your lessons about the value of honesty, hard work, politeness, and humility are with me every day.
I’m not in debt, thanks to your teachings and example about the value of savings and a good credit rating.
You made reading a part of my life from a very early age; because of this, I have not only been to wonderful imaginary worlds and met fascinating characters, but have found work that I truly enjoy doing.
You deserve a medal for dealing with me during the teen years, when even I didn’t like me very much.
Dad, we never really talk about it, but thank you for risking your life in service to this country. I can’t imagine what you must have experienced. And thank you for showing me how to deal with a serious illness with faith and a sense of humor.
Mom, you have shown me what a true caretaker is. I’m so impressed by how you give of yourself and never ask for praise or recognition -- whether it’s taking care of Dad, volunteering, or keeping the bird feeder filled.
There are so many more things you’ve done for me, for the family, and even for the community -- but these are just a few of the reasons that I love you and always will. Yes, I could have put this in a letter or a card, but I wanted others to know how very blessed I am to have you two special people in my life.
Talk to you Sunday.
“Love you,”
LH
Dear Mom and Dad,
When I say “I love you,” I mean:
Thanks for being my biggest supporters and cheerleaders, even though I’m sure at times you wondered what the heck I was thinking. Because of your encouragement, I took some risks that have reaped great rewards, knowing I always had “a soft place to fall.”
I respect and admire your example of commitment and responsibility through 60-plus years of marriage; in particular, honoring “for better or for worse; in sickness and in health” over the last couple of years.
Your lessons about the value of honesty, hard work, politeness, and humility are with me every day.
I’m not in debt, thanks to your teachings and example about the value of savings and a good credit rating.
You made reading a part of my life from a very early age; because of this, I have not only been to wonderful imaginary worlds and met fascinating characters, but have found work that I truly enjoy doing.
You deserve a medal for dealing with me during the teen years, when even I didn’t like me very much.
Dad, we never really talk about it, but thank you for risking your life in service to this country. I can’t imagine what you must have experienced. And thank you for showing me how to deal with a serious illness with faith and a sense of humor.
Mom, you have shown me what a true caretaker is. I’m so impressed by how you give of yourself and never ask for praise or recognition -- whether it’s taking care of Dad, volunteering, or keeping the bird feeder filled.
There are so many more things you’ve done for me, for the family, and even for the community -- but these are just a few of the reasons that I love you and always will. Yes, I could have put this in a letter or a card, but I wanted others to know how very blessed I am to have you two special people in my life.
Talk to you Sunday.
“Love you,”
LH
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Internet addiction
After reading a recent tongue-in-cheek column on Internet addiction by Stephen King in Entertainment Weekly, I started to wonder about my own level of dependence on this electronic drug. So of course I went online. When I Googled “Am I addicted to the Internet?” several sites popped up. (The fact that I now use Google as a verb is already a troubling sign.) Although there seems to be some debate as to whether there really is such a thing as a true addiction to the Internet, several sites offer self-assessments. I found one test on the Center for Internet Addiction Recovery site. To my relief, I’m considered an average online user. So what’s an average Internet user’s day like?
If I’m working at home, the first thing I do after breakfast is turn the computer on and check my e-mail -- usually around 7:30 a.m.. Then I go to www.freekibblekat.com and answer the daily trivia question; check the TV news at Ain’t It Cool News; and usually peek in at the TV Guide site and/or the Entertainment Weekly site. At about 10 a.m. I take a break for The Daily Kitten and have probably checked my e-mail again by now. Recently, a trip to Facebook has joined the morning routine. Depending on the day, I also check some weekly columns and updates at various sites.
There’s more e-mail checking throughout the day, along with occasional Facebook visits. I will admit to feeling a sense of abandonment if my friends haven’t sent any e-mails during a day. (But I feel that way when my real mailbox is empty too.) Few weeks go by that I’m not at Amazon or Netflix for one thing or another, and Google is the answer to almost any question, whether it’s wondering about that pain in my lower back or the answer to a tough crossword clue. Speaking of puzzles, I also try to get to the Jumble site each day, where there are three word puzzles I work through.
In the evening, it’s back to Facebook. (Hey, I have a farm in FarmVille and those veggies won’t harvest themselves! I also just adopted a virtual kitten who needs food and attention.) The last check of e-mail, usually around 10:30 p.m., is followed by a nightly visit to I Can Has Cheezburger -- home of the infamous LOLcats. This site almost always gives me a laugh, and some days it’s about the only thing that does.
I can truthfully say that I’ve never missed a deadline or skipped work because I was busy online. But I don’t have a husband or kids around, so who knows whether I would let the laundry pile up and miss school events because I was busy stocking up at drugstore.com. As for relationships, I think e-mailing and now Facebook have helped me to start and keep several friendships that otherwise may never have happened or would have drifted into that nebulous “Gee, we had fun, wonder whatever happened to him/her?” territory.
Sometimes on a Sunday, if I don’t have work that requires me to be at the computer, I make a conscious choice NOT to turn the machine on for a day. I’m okay for a few hours but then the thoughts pop up: “I should check my e-mail…. Hmm, I don’t know that, I need to Google…. Oh, I’d forgotten I wanted to add that movie to my Netflix list….” A sort of itchy, restless feeling comes over me as the day goes on and my electronic buddy remains dark and silent. It’s a little disturbing, how much of a relief it is the next day to turn on the computer and be connected again -- literally and figuratively.
If I’m working at home, the first thing I do after breakfast is turn the computer on and check my e-mail -- usually around 7:30 a.m.. Then I go to www.freekibblekat.com and answer the daily trivia question; check the TV news at Ain’t It Cool News; and usually peek in at the TV Guide site and/or the Entertainment Weekly site. At about 10 a.m. I take a break for The Daily Kitten and have probably checked my e-mail again by now. Recently, a trip to Facebook has joined the morning routine. Depending on the day, I also check some weekly columns and updates at various sites.
There’s more e-mail checking throughout the day, along with occasional Facebook visits. I will admit to feeling a sense of abandonment if my friends haven’t sent any e-mails during a day. (But I feel that way when my real mailbox is empty too.) Few weeks go by that I’m not at Amazon or Netflix for one thing or another, and Google is the answer to almost any question, whether it’s wondering about that pain in my lower back or the answer to a tough crossword clue. Speaking of puzzles, I also try to get to the Jumble site each day, where there are three word puzzles I work through.
In the evening, it’s back to Facebook. (Hey, I have a farm in FarmVille and those veggies won’t harvest themselves! I also just adopted a virtual kitten who needs food and attention.) The last check of e-mail, usually around 10:30 p.m., is followed by a nightly visit to I Can Has Cheezburger -- home of the infamous LOLcats. This site almost always gives me a laugh, and some days it’s about the only thing that does.
I can truthfully say that I’ve never missed a deadline or skipped work because I was busy online. But I don’t have a husband or kids around, so who knows whether I would let the laundry pile up and miss school events because I was busy stocking up at drugstore.com. As for relationships, I think e-mailing and now Facebook have helped me to start and keep several friendships that otherwise may never have happened or would have drifted into that nebulous “Gee, we had fun, wonder whatever happened to him/her?” territory.
Sometimes on a Sunday, if I don’t have work that requires me to be at the computer, I make a conscious choice NOT to turn the machine on for a day. I’m okay for a few hours but then the thoughts pop up: “I should check my e-mail…. Hmm, I don’t know that, I need to Google…. Oh, I’d forgotten I wanted to add that movie to my Netflix list….” A sort of itchy, restless feeling comes over me as the day goes on and my electronic buddy remains dark and silent. It’s a little disturbing, how much of a relief it is the next day to turn on the computer and be connected again -- literally and figuratively.
So there’s a typical day for me online. Is it average? I guess that’s for the experts to decide. Think about your own “average” day on the Internet. Are you in need of an intervention or just a babe in the Worldwide Web woods? And is an Internet addiction really such a bad thing, considering some of the other addictions out there?
Saturday, August 1, 2009
It’s all about…
… Me, of course! Isn’t that why most people start a blog? We all want our voices heard, whether it’s an opinion about the economy or the latest viral video. So this is my space, my voice. My blog.
Since this entry is about me:
I’m a 40-something in Chicago, single, no kids, no ex. I work as a freelance copy editor, a job that I love. I’m originally from downstate Illinois, where my parents and a brother and sister-in-law still live. My niece is doing her medical residency at Harvard (yes, THE Harvard). I’m convinced all the highest-level genetic material in our family somehow found its way into her. She’s married to a wonderful guy, and they’ve been together since high school. I also have two small, spoiled, furry nephews (miniature dachshunds). I’ve come to love the little guys, although I’m definitely a cat person.
I have developed recent addictions to comic books and Facebook. Reading and word puzzles are two of my favorite ways to relax. (Hmm… Books seem to be a common theme here.) I love TV – yes, I freely admit it – but I consider myself a fairly discerning viewer. Although I don’t go to movies, I do have a lengthy Netflix queue. Food and chocolate are longstanding addictions. But if lovin’ chocolate is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.
So as you might guess, topics here will generally be pop-culture related, plus some general ruminating, rants, and ramblings. You won’t find any intense political discussions (I hate politics) or philosophical essays (I’m not that deep). No ethical debates -- other than perhaps whether or not a character on Lost should have died. I appreciate feedback, but please be kind. Right now I plan to post at least once a week, probably on weekends.
So here I go on my first journey through the blogosphere! I hope you’ll join me.
Since this entry is about me:
I’m a 40-something in Chicago, single, no kids, no ex. I work as a freelance copy editor, a job that I love. I’m originally from downstate Illinois, where my parents and a brother and sister-in-law still live. My niece is doing her medical residency at Harvard (yes, THE Harvard). I’m convinced all the highest-level genetic material in our family somehow found its way into her. She’s married to a wonderful guy, and they’ve been together since high school. I also have two small, spoiled, furry nephews (miniature dachshunds). I’ve come to love the little guys, although I’m definitely a cat person.
I have developed recent addictions to comic books and Facebook. Reading and word puzzles are two of my favorite ways to relax. (Hmm… Books seem to be a common theme here.) I love TV – yes, I freely admit it – but I consider myself a fairly discerning viewer. Although I don’t go to movies, I do have a lengthy Netflix queue. Food and chocolate are longstanding addictions. But if lovin’ chocolate is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.
So as you might guess, topics here will generally be pop-culture related, plus some general ruminating, rants, and ramblings. You won’t find any intense political discussions (I hate politics) or philosophical essays (I’m not that deep). No ethical debates -- other than perhaps whether or not a character on Lost should have died. I appreciate feedback, but please be kind. Right now I plan to post at least once a week, probably on weekends.
So here I go on my first journey through the blogosphere! I hope you’ll join me.
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