Getting Older

I'm winding down. My body clock has sent me all sorts of hints. The night sweats/heat flashes, the weight gain. My uterus has been checking the balance in her 401K on a monthly basis. Apparently now is the time.

I got excited when I figured out that I could zoom my computer screen print larger. I haven't quite admitted I need bi-focals. It's way more fun to spend half my day looking for glasses. The irony is that I need them to drive, not to read. The problem is once I put them on to drive, I cannot read unless I take them off. Hence always looking for them.

I am happy that there are pretty flip flops because my feet don't like heels anymore. Actually they never did, but I was patient enough to endure.

Speaking of patience, mine seems to be evaporating with my estrogen. I get annoyed more easily, but I also apologize more quickly when I'm a jerk.

So I'm getting older. Missing a period in my 20s meant something so much different than it does today. Today missing one means I'm just getting older and they are slowing down.

Then the slice of me that isn't thrilled about getting older wonders... maybe? Am I? Could I be? So I spend an hour researching the chances of a vasectomy reversing after 15 years. Turns out that the chances are about 1 in 4,000. Coupled with the chances of a 47 year old woman conceiving? About 5% after trying for a year. I'm no statistician, but I'm going to say it's time to admit I'm aging.

I probably should have known it was going to happen. I've gained weight, been moody, and had the hot flashes. In fact, this spring, I had an epic hot flash incident that I've laughed about relentlessly, perhaps that laughter was a form of denial.

What was the incident you ask?

Oh heck, why not?

I was visiting family out of state. Our travel arrangements were such that my husband was flying in later that evening. So I wanted to wait up for him. We had been drinking wine earlier in the evening and it was a cooler night in Florida. Everyone went to bed, but I sat up alone, entertaining myself on the internet until he arrived.

Then it hit me. A hot flash so enormous I was certain that flames were shooting out of my ears. In a desperate attempt to quell the heat, I looked at the cool ceramic tile floor. I laid down flat on the floor pressing my face against the tile, just enjoying the relief. I actually thought the idea through as much as a menopausal brain can.

Mom decided she would keep me company so she came back out to the kitchen to find me face down on the floor. "WHAT are you doing?" she exclaimed, shaking her head, and also grateful that I wasn't hurt, but just laying on the floor for some strange reason.

I stood up, very matter of factly, and explained I had been having a hot flash and wanted to cool down quickly, I even asked her to touch my neck to prove how hot I was.

She clucked and looked at me and said, "Why didn't you take off your sweater?"

Oh. Or I could have done that.

Yeah, I'm getting older.

Worker bee works for me

I'm posting this on my publicly personal blog. This is where I share things that are interesting to me but not necessarily marketable or promoting anything but my state of mind. And my audience is primarily my friends, though I don't object if others want to know what's on my mind.

I use this space to tell stories about my life and family and to promote folks I know who are doing cool things in film and media. Sprinkled with more of my life stories.

Today is a reflection.

One of my favorite celebrities is Steven Van Zandt. I discovered him as a Springsteen fan, but that gypsy boy is the one I have my celebrity crush on. He's cool as hell and I love when he does interesting things. So today, I found a recent interview with him and I figured out why he resonates so much with me.

He was being interviewed about his career as Springsteen's right hand and then again as the Soprano's right hand. He is who I fancy myself to be as he explained how much he enjoys being behind the scenes, not the star. The worker bee. I repeatedly tell folks I'm not leader material. I am the one who does what needs to be done. Another pop culture reference is the teen hit from a few years ago, Sky High, where the world was divided into heroes and sidekicks. I'm the Robin to Batman. I'm proudly sidekick all the way.

In my career life, I was an assistant, a Vice Pres, a helper. I like that role. It suits me well. Some folks need glory and titles, I need results. My experience says that you get more done behind the scenes instead of at the helm.

It doesn't mean I don't have my own talent, it means that my talent is best magnified by working with another. I am not comfortable with the role of being in charge. So let me take my gifts and help make you the best you can be. I'm cool with being Little Steven or Robin. I just want to make a difference and I don't need or want marquis billing.

So... my question is -- what are you?

Top ten problems facing public education in America (repost)

Top ten problems facing public education in America (via www.gimby.org)

The most essential problems with public education in America are seldom addressed in plain language. Below, GIMBY hones in on public education’s ten most pressing problems.Poverty It’s hard to arrive at school each day focused and ready to learn…