And What A Year It’s Been

To my horror, I just realized I haven’t written in over nine months and it turns out that some important stuff has happened and I should probably write it down.

Keto success (per the previous post) was indeed a high point of 2019. As happens, some of the weight has come back recently thanks to working at home and barely moving around much anymore, so I’m doing a little better at a low-carb way of eating. Starting today. Because we made Chicago-style hot dogs last night and I’m sorry but who can’t eat a ton of them? Or in my case, three.

The job offer I accepted back in July ’19 has worked out swimmingly, I’m still there. It’s client work, so there’s a lot of jumping to new projects thanks to ending contracts and shifting needs. This meant that I wasn’t getting an end-to-end experience building sites for clients and that was frustrating. However, it turns out that I have a manager who is truly great as a person, not just a good manager, and I’m counting my blessings. Unfortunately, the experiences I’ve had in our new city hold true with each place I’ve worked since we’ve come here: Friendly but not welcoming. The company was purchased by the major corporation I work for years before I got there, but only my manager and I are the New Kids. Rather than roll out a red carpet, they took up the rope ladder, if you get my meaning. It’s been really difficult breaking into their tight-knit group and I’ve mostly just given up. It’s very tribal and if they didn’t already know you, they don’t really want to. But whatever, they’re stuck with me so either be friendly or don’t, it doesn’t affect the work.

Recently however, I interviewed and accepted the offer for a position within the company that is doing work for the company instead of for outside clients. It has changed the game. This team, unlike my home team, is friendly, welcoming, so brilliant at what they do, and have made me feel like one of them straight away. The temporary gig is meant to expire at the new year but I’m going to try my hardest to stay on permanently, fingers crossed.

Last Thanksgiving was a bit of a fray. We intended to fly to our home city and then rent a car to drive up to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to visit my in-laws. The week leading up, they were due to get “some bad weather” which turned into a full-blown blizzard by mid-week, so we flew in, rented a car, and spent the weekend with my family outside Chicago instead. It was fine, but sad we couldn’t get to the UP. We stayed home for Christmas, which is always preferred, and midway through January took a vacation to Walt Disney World where I hadn’t been since before Epcot was built (gulp) and D had never been. We had an amazing week with time spent in Star Wars land being the biggest highlight by far. Truly, it was wonderful.

Then, about three days after arriving back home, we caught what we firmly believe was COVID-19. We had all the symptoms and since it wasn’t common stateside yet, couldn’t be tested for it. Instead, they tested us for both kinds of flu, strep, and ultimately shrugged then sent us home with an inhaler and some antibiotics. D had it a little worse and got a nebulizer treatment which we now have learned was a huge mistake, it likely sent all those germs airborne for whoever to pick up after he left the room.

We were sick for about a week or so, then slowly got over it. I still feel a little winded after lots of stairs but it could also be because I’m in worse shape than I was before lockdown. We voluntarily quarantined ourselves thinking it was a flu, and I’m glad we did. Our antibody tests came back negative, which they now believe is common for most people who had it and thus there is no way to know if we in fact, did. We’ve been masking up and staying in for the most part, and avoiding any and all unmasked crowds, since our state is one that is seeing an uptick and we want no part of that.

The stir crazy is setting in, I can’t lie to you. We moved house about two days after the lockdown order came in and fortunately, wound up with some fantastic neighbors who we see several times a week for cooking out or porch drinks and that has been a saving grace. We have two other couples we see at least once a month or more as well, so we aren’t completely in a cave but I have been feeling that way more and more lately.

I’m still sewing, still trying to work my way through a stupid full bust adjustment and feeling like I’m failing. Then I look at all these great dress patterns I have, the fabric, and I realize I have nowhere to wear these so I pretty much just stop shortly after I’ve begun. If this is how it’ll be for the next six months, I’m afraid of where our collective happiness will be as a society. The grocery store is a gauntlet enough as it is with half masks, half no masks, half poorly-worn masks, and people just in general being awful to each other over this whole thing.

We booked a trip to New Orleans back in May, hoping it would be cleared up by October when we scheduled to go but considering how difficult it is for people to contain themselves and stop the spread, it’s likely not happening. Southwest unfortunately changed our flight from four hours and one stop each leg, to seven hours with two stops. I cancelled the flight (but when I tried to re-book it using our credit, it came in $150 cheaper but then I was told to make up that $150 to book… so I did not). We’re keeping the AirB&B booked in case something changes, but it’s not looking good.

I finally watched Hamilton, twice so far, and while it’s cheeseball Broadway musical in parts, I get why it’s seminal and everyone should watch it at least once.

The dogs are happy and healthy for the most part, Fred’s eyesight is getting worse over time and he’s slower to jump up or down, but he’s hanging in there just fine. Ramona has a new daycare she seems to love and they love her, which is all we can hope for. Our new place had a fence installed so they are loving life off-leash. It’s interesting to watch how they choose the spots they poop in, now that we’re not guiding them anywhere. And to see Fred chase D and Ramona around the yard is amazing, we’ve had him for five years and he keeps surprising us when his puppy self comes out. Shih Tzus are not active dogs, like, at all, so the running is brief but adorable. Soon though, they just want us on the couch so they can rest in true comfort.

Well, that’s the Cliff’s Notes version of 2020 so far, and I’m making a vow to do better with my updates as time passes.

The Summer of Keto

Keto: the New Atkins Diet, was my first thought. Well, I take it back, my first thought was something like, “WHAT?!” when I weighed myself sometime in the spring. I’d gone up a pant size in a year, two pant sizes in three years, my bras were starting to bulge in some new spots, and I didn’t enjoy looking in the mirror. Something had to be done.

I’m tall so I can hide my weight gain a little easier than some and I’m fortunate to have my dad’s metabolism which means I gain fast but I also lose fast. The keeping it off is always the hardest part, maybe that’s true for everyone. Five Aprils ago, I herniated the L5/S1 disc in my lower back. The summer of the injury I dropped 20 lbs and suddenly found myself hovering around 165. I didn’t notice how much I’d lost until one day my bra cups gapped and I fit into clothes I hadn’t worn in years. It was a perfect storm of unemployment and sedentary life; when the healing began and my habits returned, I gained it all back and then some.

Come May of this year, I topped 200 lbs. Then 215. Then 220. My mom suffers from degenerative disc disease and I do too, but over time she’s undergone knee and hip replacements, and her back just gets worse every year. Pain pills won’t touch it and she won’t consider surgery. She’s not overweight, she’s just inactive (and doesn’t eat very well since she stopped cooking for herself every night, lots of Lean Cuisines and such). Watching her body slowly break down and how difficult stairs and long car rides are for her, plus my own bad back and pains from carrying the extra weight, losing weight was one thing I knew I could control in spite of whatever genetics have in store for me.

I did some reading about keto, downloaded the Carb Manager app and bookmarked it on my web browser, and on June 2nd I started a Pinterest board of recipes, made a grocery list, and attacked it head on. We went shopping that night and stocked up on enough ingredients to get me through the first weekend. I dove in, didn’t stop for the first week, and while I had a few weekends in June where I knowingly paused, I didn’t think results would happen as quickly as I’d read. And with keto, you have to stick with it consistently. “Cheating” isn’t an option, either you’re in ketosis and losing, or you aren’t and you’re gaining. Even maintenance (once a goal weight is hit) is borderline keto since carbs are limited, just not as strictly.

I looked up some hashtags on Instagram and Twitter and thanks to those, found recipe and ingredient resources, encouragement from total strangers, a killer cookbook, a waffle replacement, and some really encouraging before and after photos, their results I knew I too could achieve.

And here are the results from the first four days. Four! Almost 10 lbs! Which is a standard for everyone! It should have been more for the full week but our wedding anniversary fell in that time and I decided to eat the way I wanted to that night, which caused a gain of a pound or two – water weight, not fat – but still disappointing and a good lesson learned. THEN, the week or two after that, an annual long weekend with friends and after THAT, a trip back to my home town where trying to eat smart is truly hopeless. Excuses, excuses but I decided to go with it and not beat myself up. Just get back on the horse as soon as I get home and I was finally on the unwavering track.

I learned how many carbs I could handle in a day without kicking myself out of keto, I found out where to buy the excellent mixes for keto baked goods and sweets, learned which ingredients I could sub out for sugars, flours, and starches, and got very comfortable with my new way of eating. So much so that I stopped tracking my weight and carbs every single day.

Imagine my surprise when I went into my doctor’s office for a consult about a steroid shot for my back and they asked me to get on the scale. It was August 16th, nine weeks after I’d started keto at 218 lbs. The scale read 195 lbs, I’d made it to “onederland”! The reading was three pounds less than my scale at home said the day before (I didn’t lose three pounds overnight, my home scale runs hot even though it’s digital). I was only 10 lbs. from my first goal weight! Everything changed, my motivations, and my measurements were excellent! I’d stopped sewing clothes at the start of keto, there was no point knowing my size would keep changing. Turns out half of my pants no longer fit, several tops didn’t either, and even my rings and shoes seem too big for me now.

I hit my goal this week, 185 lbs. Had I never strayed, I’d have hit it weeks ago. I took photos as I went along and there’s a marked difference but mostly, I have energy and my husband comments often on the loss. It’s been a fun journey! Sure, sometimes it gets old having to cook instead of being able to whip something quick and carby up and yes, I definitely made some dinners out of keto desserts, but I’m so glad I did it.

Goal weight achieved after two and a half months.

Right now I’m taking a short break. I’m keeping carbs low but not doing strict keto, allowing myself occasional corn chips, a few extra pieces of dark chocolate here and there, my beloved and much missed popcorn, tasty beers. I have no desire to go back to regular pancakes or burgers with buns. I probably won’t ever drink another non-diet soda pop or eat more than a scoop or two of regular ice cream because I see keto as being a new lifestyle. The beauty of keto is that you can always start it back up again, and results happen quickly to encourage me back on track and stay there. I went shopping last weekend and bought new clothes, a size or two smaller. This weekend I’m going to thin my too-big clothes in prep to donate them, and I will be happy to say goodbye to 220 lbs. and hello to 185 lbs. and dropping.

If you’re pre-diabetic, frustrated by diets and weight gained right back again, costly gym memberships, packaged foods full of chemicals, and you are not hypertensive (that’s important), you can do keto. And it will work. It will absolutely work.

Waiting for a Job, Sewing, and Unexpected Gifts

I’ve been in the running for three jobs in the last two months. One is off the table, and that’s ok for a few reasons, another made an offer that I hesitate to take because a different offer is coming this week for the job that I really want. It’s a good position to be in and it’s a whole thing so I’m very lucky that I’ve had a bunch of time to think about stuff, weigh my options, run errands, tend my garden, and sew sew sew.

The sewing is going pretty well, minus a few frustrations with seams and alterations. There’s a beautiful Joann Fabric in town that’s a half hour drive away but which has an alteration department that can help me, I just have to make the trek up there to deal with it. In the meantime though, I’ve completed two skirts and a bag, and have learned lessons in all of them.

Skirt number one:

This one was so tricky, I started it once and realized I’d made a huge mistake that I couldn’t easily fix so I remade it completely using a different fabric. Once I realized how strangely it hung (because I am not the size 2 in the image on the package), I decided to renovate the design and do some pleats instead of gathers. This saved the skirt and while I didn’t adhere to the exact math of a standard pleat method, it still worked out and no one is likely the wiser unless they’re really staring. I took some pretty major shortcuts there in the name of just getting it done but it worked!

This is the final result:

Finished skirt!

Pockets are the best.

I finished that skirt and decided to make another, somewhat easier one the night before it had to be packed for a trip. Totally messing up my back in the process, all the bending and hemming, standing and sitting, I was a true mess. In fact, I’m in the early stages of a Prednisone pack to buy me some comfort before the doc and I try to figure out what’s going on and she orders another round of films when my new insurance kicks in. 🤞

Because the pain is something that I will have the rest of my life due to not having the insurance required to get the herniated disc tended to when it happened, I’ve been pursuing means to keep myself mobile and comfortable. I’ve just applied for a medical marijuana card through my state’s agency, and in the meantime have been so impressed with the qualities and successes of CBD capsules to manage anxiety. While CBD isn’t really helping with mobility or helping pain, the anxiety calming has been notable. It’s wonderful, I’m loving the results and am happy to answer any questions anyone may have about it, leave a comment or send me a message. 

Anyway, this skirt was a simple pattern, I mean truly, the hardest part was lining up the print which I did not a great job of but I was rushed. Burda patterns, bless them, they really do measure to the sizes they say they will and even if I add an extra inch to buy me some wiggle room, I rarely need it. No other pattern company has that going for it that I’ve found yet.

Burda pattern, simple and easy to follow.

Not yet pressed or hemmed.

Not the very best thing on earth and this is, obviously, before hemming and pressing, but it’s super comfortable and was really pretty to wear when it was finished. I screwed up the waistband due to rushing and it doesn’t connect the way it should but I also don’t really tuck shirts in so I can hide it easily until I figure out the right closure (I’m thinking frog or elongated hook meant to span a space rather than an overlap).

The next project is this dress, which I’m excited about if it works out but learning to do full bust adjustments and darts has been a real trial. Anyway, this is it in-progress:

Burda pattern, mostly great except for forgetting to tell you some notions you’ll need (piping tape, in this case) means last-minute runs to the store.

Fabric detail

FBA in-progress and an extra set of darts

And the best part? The support I’ve received from my mother in law! She’s the best. She doesn’t sew much anymore so she’s mailed me some fun swatches of vintage fabric she wants me to have, a ton of notions that are also vintage (all of the rickrack), and these adorable tags to sew into my garments:

So now that my back is in better shape I can get back to it then cool my heels as I wait for the other job offer to come this week (they tell me), and plan for the next few projects. It’s all happening! And if it’s not, at least I have some new clothes in the meantime until it does.

My Foray Into the Error-Fraught World of Sewing Clothes

My work contract ended three weeks ago rather suddenly and now I have all this time on my hands while I job seek and interview (which is going pretty well, thanks).

Last fall we experienced a windfall due to a Federal financial screw-up, so we paid some stuff down, saved some of it, gifted some of it, and each decided to Treat Yo Self. D bought himself a 3D printer and I bought a sewing machine, courtesy of an amazing deal on Costco’s website. Three weeks’ worth of shipping later, it arrived and I LOVE it. It’s amazing what it can do! So many types of stitches, quilting stitches, surging, embroidery, even letters. So I started simple and made my nieces and nephew tooth pillows with their names stitched on the pockets, a tote bag, and then, the dreaded attempt at skirts and dresses for myself.

I also picked up a dress form and that has been fantastic, however either don’t have the measurements exactly right or I’m shaped strangely. I had to pad the middle ad sides since I’m not hourglass-shaped, and I had to give it a bra with extra padding because I am busty. Looking at a dummy shaped like you is both eye-opening and kind of reassuring. I actually bought the largest size because I thought that’s what I looked like, but when I got it home and dialed in the measurements, it was all too large. I sent it back for a smaller size and had a strange epiphany that I don’t look like I thought I did.

Anyway, I picked up several patterns and started to prep immediately for an upcoming trip to New Orleans where it’s already humid and pushing 90 degrees during the day (and cooler but somehow even more humid at night).

I started with New Look 6553 (shorter skirt, no sleeves) using black linen for the bodice and a lovely sort of neutral-gray linen for the skirt. The bodice is tricky, there are few seams so it has to be cut just-so and the pattern is smaller than my bust measurements. I cut all the pieces larger than I needed to, and lengthened the bottom so it fell over my bust and tucked into the skirt accurately. Now it’s assembled but doesn’t fit right, and is kind of a crazy mess because it also involves princess seams, which is a whole thing I’m not used to. I consulted some online help and set it aside to clear my mind.

Then I picked up Simplicity 8211, a skirt. Couldn’t be that hard right? It says “easy” right on the package! But this skirt involved a hidden zipper, pockets, gathers, and a waistband. Basically everything you need to know about a simple skirt but with the bells and whistles of more complicated patterns. It has been a great lesson. I finished it but for the hem, tried it on, and realized it looked like a bubble and was about as unflattering as a person in a skirt could look. I’d sized it up to account for my larger waist than the pattern allowed, sewed everything up, but it hung with almost no gathers and little swing. What happened?

I read the pattern over again and even watched an online tutorial. I took my problem to an online help resource and in re-reading the pattern pieces, and true to form, realized I left out an entire panel. “Cut 2 on the fold”, I actually cut 1 on the fold but just made it several inches wider… The “ARG” was epic. So now I have to take the waistband off, undo a side seam, insert the new panel, re-gather, likely re-attach one side of the zipper, add the waistband, and re-sew. I just keep telling myself, “it’s a process”, “I’m learning”, “this is my first solo pattern-following adventure”, “with every screw up, I’m getting better”… right? Sure.

So help me, at least the dress, the skirt, or a hail Mary circle skirt will be ready by the time we leave on Saturday, SO HELP ME GOD.

Abusers, Narcissists, Controllers, and Love

One of my favorite bloggers/advice writers is Captain Awkward. She’s wry, she’s smart, she’s right on point, and she actually writes you back even if she doesn’t publish your letter. I wish I’d have read this some years ago, it would have saved me a lot of second-guessing and time.

I’m going to post this without comment, because wherever it finds a person when they need it, it is the right time and place.

Help with De-Escalating Arguments when Dr. Jekyll Turns into Mr. ‘Abandonment/Control Issues’ Hyde

Lessons in Geography

I’m not going to spend the whole post complaining about Columbus but let’s just say that the differences in behavior between Chicago and it are, well, mountainous.

The first problem we noticed, were the drivers. If you see a car swerving, driving erratically or too slow for the road, I will bet you my pets that the driver is on his or her phone, looking at his or her phone, or even Facetiming, I’ve seen it all. I regularly see motorcyclists try to beat red lights and turn against arrows in busy traffic. I see cars cross the center line only to be horned back into position by the opposing car, daily. Add to this the lack of continuous sidewalks and lacking public transit, and you have a recipe. Every time I see a pedestrian walking along a shoulder, I cringe.

There is no public campaign to go hands-free or phoneless by threat of ticket. Cops are a rare sight indeed and I can’t say I’ve ever seen a police car just parked on a side street waiting to nab a scofflaw. Drivers ed I’m told, is but a faint whisper in the school system, and the terrible drivers are a known factor of living here. The locals joke about it.

And so, on Friday, after 15 months of residency, I was finally rear-ended. I don’t know if he was on his phone at the time but when we pulled into the nearest parking lot, he apologized immediately and said he wasn’t paying attention. Ok sir, I’ll take that as an admission of guilt (aside from the failure to stop in time and perhaps following too closely). It was a very low speed collision in bumper-to-bumper construction traffic, and because the kid with the Slow/Stop sign turned it too quickly for the person in front of me to make it through, they jammed on their brakes, I jammed on my breaks, and the guy behind me did not. It’s a miracle I didn’t hit the person in front of me, to be honest. I was within an inch. Like, parallel parking level where you pat yourself on the back when you get out of the car to admire your work, close.

I’ve tried to be open-minded. Chicago is an enormous city with diversity and hustle, everyone’s going somewhere and rushing, and our Habitrails are well-worn and ingrained. The drivers are only part of that, but what I’ve come to really realize is that the beauty of a large city, even if it seems people are terminally disengaged, is that they are keenly aware of what’s going on around them.

That car is probably going to hit me if I cross the street right now.
He’s about to change lanes into mine, I better slow down.
That guy is going to try to get around me with his cart, I should move to the side.
That woman is going to stop and ask me for money if I sit next to the open seat.

It’s a city of constantly darting eyeballs, full of anticipation and decision-making. And I miss that more than I ever could have known. Now, even the act of driving through a parking lot means stopping while people walk slowly, four across in the middle of the drive lane, blissfully unaware there is a car right behind them that can’t get by. That, on a grander scale, has been our experience in Columbus. There is little urgency for task completion if not outright obliviousness of expectation. Returned calls from professionals or physicians can take days, if not weeks. Paperwork is routinely lost and re-submitted. And I can’t put my finger on any of it because it’s not crowded or over-populated here. No one is that busy. Ever.

We don’t miss Chicago. I mean, we miss the food and some friends and family, but we don’t miss living there. We’re going back tomorrow for several days for D’s business trip and that will scratch the itch for a while. We found a sushi restaurant where the language barrier results in delightfully curt interactions with staff which locals probably think is rude, but we love it. In fact, every time we have borderline unfriendly, to-the-point service, we let out a charmed, “awww” after the person walks away.

My backyard someday.

We talk about the desert still, it’s been a constant conversation, but work in the city we’d plan on can be hard to find and because I’m a specialist within a specialty, particularly difficult for me. There are a few things in the works with regards to that which may wind up saving the day, but there are a lot of “ifs” about it as of today. The larger question is, is there anywhere we can go that won’t be as frustrating as Columbus has been? Hard to say. Mitigating factors are comparable cost of living and better weather, which means from now on, we only move south/southwest.

I’m grateful for eight months left on our lease though, and I’m grateful we don’t have to make any decisions today. The adventure continues. But I might be staring down the barrel at my eighth move in seven years.

Turns Out, My Dog is Not Sick

Update from this post, written almost a year ago. Thanks to the stranger who liked the previous post, I wouldn’t have thought to update it without the notification.

Before we moved from our previous city, Fred was

Handsome Fred

diagnosed with insulinoma, a particularly aggressive and always fatal pancreatic cancer rarely if ever, seen in small dogs. In our new city, our new vet concurred based on blood work and symptoms, and prescribed a daily dose of prednisone as a bit of a hail Mary to control the growth of the tumor. She recommended we do another round of x-rays six months after beginning the medication.

Pancreatic cancer spreads like mold, and that is what makes it so very dangerous and fast. Not only is it in the endocrine system which travels through our whole bodies, but it grows via thin filaments of cells that infect everything around the site and beyond, and we felt it was only a matter of time before it manifested elsewhere. We kept a close ear on his lungs and eating habits, and watched for other signs that it might have metastasized. In the meantime, we moved house in the spring of this year and set out to find a vet closer to our new place. Enter: The Best Vet on Earth. But let me back up and add the other crucial element to this puzzle.

Puppy Ramona

This is Ramona, born to a mama she looks just like along with three sisters, in August of 2017. We had no intentions for a puppy, we planned to adopt via a Shih Tzu rescue that does a lot of work in Ohio. We wanted to find an older lady friend to keep Fred company in his twilight years and hopefully give him someone to snuggle with. The more we talked about an older rescue, and Fred who doesn’t love to share space (or me) all that much, began to talk about a puppy instead. We knew that aside from plants, we’d likely not raise a living thing from infancy and that’s a valuable experience in marriage and life. Plus, in what remaining time Fred had with us, he could mentor and shape a puppy to be mellow and sleepy like him, and help it realize how to be a great dog before he left his fuzzy mortal coil.

We introduced the prednisone to Fred’s routine around August, found Ramona shortly after, and by October, she was home with us. We spread Fred’s feedings out to four small ones a day and medicated him in hopes of keeping his blood sugar problems under control. We bought a glucose monitor on our previous vet’s recommendation, who showed us where on his paw to take the sample when he had his next low blood sugar fit, and we sat back and waited for it while we got Ramona used to her new home.

But that fit never came. The prednisone dosage was slowly lowered over those six months and shortly before we moved to a bigger place in a neighboring town, we had the second round of films done. Nothing. They showed nothing. No visible cancer, no spread, and a healthy heart, lungs, and liver. Fred was cranky because of the prednisone and new puppy, but they had no visual on an actual illness. They believed he was still sick however, in spite of whatever it was that looked like a tumor the year prior simply appearing gone. We were stunned. And confused. Hopeful, but not confident, we needed a second opinion.

We found a new vet in our new neighborhood and took Fred in for a checkup, to see if we could take him off the prednisone altogether and if they viewed the films differently. They agreed, but took it a step further. Not only does he not have insulinoma, but he’s in remarkably good health for his age and knowing absolutely nothing about his history prior to when he came to us almost three years ago. They felt his glucose was on the low end of healthy, but could be managed with regular feedings and a slower lifestyle (he can’t get much slower, really). He came off the prednisone and his personality has slowly returned. He hadn’t given his tiny kiss-licks in months but there they were, carefully doled out and never too much or often, Fred was his selectively affectionate self again! Ramona piles into his space and knocks him out of the way regularly in acts we refer to as “puppy rude”, he growls and corrects her and sometimes she even backs off. She insists on snuggling with him, whether he likes it or not, and he’s slowly allowing it.

So here’s Fred, 10 years strong and three years part of our family, healthy and as happy as he can be, in it for (hopefully) the long haul.

I Nuked* My Facebook Account

*Mostly. I know, I know, but wait. Lemme splain.

When the Cambridge Analytica stuff surfaced, it seemed like it was the final nail in a coffin that I’d been slowly building over the course of three years, in which to ultimately lay to rest my Facebook life. For too long I’d read the same memes posted by friends all across the country ad nauseam, I’d been privy to pointless and irritating beefs between people I both cared for and did not care for, endless MLMs from girlfriends I otherwise loved, that stupid dress debate, righteous as well as flawed soapboxes, unchecked-against-Snopes dire warnings, and a family member who never spoke to me unless he decided to fight me or one of my friends regarding a discussion being had on my wall (which is a lot like walking onto someone’s patio after not seeing them for a year and poking one of their guests, a stranger, in the chest).

I watched Zuckerberg sweat and robot his way through that hearing and the deep knowledge that the user is the product sat next to me and shook its head at what a sucker I’d been all those years. It was time, I was finally ready.

I composed a short but explanatory post why it was time (minus the family member call-out), that we as a society got by just fine without Facebook and could again, and asked people to get hold of me if they wanted to keep in touch through other channels like email or phone. I left the post up for 24 hours, collected some info and said some goodbyes (I wasn’t dying people, geez), then downloaded my data, deleted the app from my phone and tablet, and clicked “delete my account”. Naturally, it takes two weeks for Facebook to actually delete an account wherein the user has plenty of time to deeply regret their decision, wonder what they’re missing, and if everyone is somewhere without them having fun, and ultimately restart it.

About a week passed before I finally shook the urge to check the feed. I didn’t reach for the app first thing in the morning after waking nor did I browse the site before bed. I was blissfully unaware of the latest internet argument and I was very happy about that. Then, a few days later, I realized that I had conversations in Messenger that I didn’t want to let go (but I don’t use that app and the app I do use to check those messages requires a Facebook login), and that I was about to lose 90% contact with my in-laws, nieces, and nephews. I did some digging and found a Chrome plugin that would let me nuke as much of my wall, feed, info, photos, details, etc. en masse that I wanted to. I ran it for two days straight.

Then, after about a week and a half, I decided rather than get off Facebook completely, I would finish running the plugin then delete a huge portion of my friends list, change my name to something unfamiliar to anyone, remove all public information and photos, then pause my account for a week or so. Once I fired it back up again, my friends list would be mostly only those who I actually wanted to hear from and since I’d “unliked” so many pages, the ads in my feed would slow to a crawl and anything I wasn’t interested in seeing, would be very easy to unsubscribe from or delete. I took my friends list down from 565 to 160, and of those I really only see the same 25 people in my feed.

To say that I lost connection to the world would be an understatement. When we moved to our new state, we left almost everyone behind. We have two friends here, a couple I’ve known since high school, but that is it. It has become very clear that the majority of people in our lives were depending on our Facebook posts to keep them informed. The catch-up emails haven’t increased, the texts have remained basically the same, and the phone calls were never much to begin with.

Now, presuming the people we’re friends with and related to aren’t terrible, how does this happen? Does Facebook truly make people so lazy for connection that it becomes the sole means and without it, people not on the site are in fact out of sight and out of mind? My experience would say that yes, that is accurate. I’m not going to lie and tell you that it doesn’t sting (but it does help affirm the choice not to have kids, they’d be as isolated as we are and that’s not fair to them). When I lived alone, there were days when I wouldn’t see or speak to anyone and I’d realize that entire weekends would go by where I wouldn’t hear the sound of my own voice. I could have choked on a donut and died, and no one would have known until the stink became unavoidable for the neighbors. Living with someone legally bound to me takes that concern out of the equation, but not by a lot. We as a couple can go weeks without seeing the only friends we have here (I do not count my coworkers but it does help to have them), though I do talk frequently to the wife part of them. Now that I’m on Facebook very casually, it’s like keeping a toe in the pool at the very most and that toe isn’t enough to get me caught up in the soul-crushing fray it can be. It reminds me that some friends are more enjoyable in person than they are online. Being off of it calms my spirit, which is the best thing about the downgrade.

Leaving Facebook has inspired me to check in far more frequently with friends and loved ones who perhaps don’t check in with me as much as I’d hope. We’re all responsible to reach out to each other and keep in touch. In the effort of being the change I’d like to see in the world, I’m reminding myself that connection is never on just one person, and feeling cranky that someone isn’t speaking to me a lot is when I realize that maybe I need to speak to them first. If they don’t return the volley, then I guess Facebook is the weakest Band Aid that most of us rely on these days to be our tie that binds, and sometimes it’s good to step back.

Here are my tips a peaceful coexistence with Facebook:

• If you find it’s affecting your life in unhealthy ways, scale back. Check it rarely, contribute even less. This fends off targeted ads and cuts down on vapid interactions (and arguments). Remember that you met people and had relationships outside of Facebook once upon a time, and you will again.
• When you see in the reminders it’s someone’s birthday, text or call them your wishes instead of putting it on their wall
• When you realize you haven’t seen or heard from someone who you know is on Facebook, email, text, or call them to check in. Don’t post to their wall or message them in the app.
• If someone posts that they’re having a hard time, reach out in a way that doesn’t use the app. Make sure they know you’re thinking about them and that you care. 59 “hang in there!” posts on a wall don’t equal a direct text or call. That goes for any news be it weight loss or the death of a pet. Nothing equals direct contact.
• Keep track of birthdays and important dates in your preferred calendar, don’t rely on the app to tell you what’s coming up.
• Educate yourself about things happening in the world from difference sources, don’t use the Facebook bubble to find out what’s happening out there. If you don’t already get daily emails from news sources in your email, sign up. If you don’t know who to trust, consult this handy chart:

Facebook is not the devil. It’s a useful tool for contact and communication, but that’s only realistically, about 10% of its intent. I truly believe that in order to use it the way at least I think of it, as a way to keep in touch with far flung friends and family, the less personal information and companies or products “liked”, the better. I don’t believe there is a hack for the site, I think if you’re on it, they’ve got you tracked and numbered.

There are better ways to be human and connected to one another though, and putting electronics between each other isn’t it.

Covering Bases, Looking Out

Last we spoke, I had just accepted a job for which I felt highly unqualified. They still wanted me for some reason though and against all logic, I accepted. That was in January. I was hired along with a more experienced counterpart and together, we took on the task of rebuilding some external sites for a national retailer and its five brands, simultaneously. It was a tall order and we are frequently frustrated, to tell you the truth. We battle old ways of thinking, fear of change, and lack of true leadership that will lay the hammer down on problem children. I am not yet at the point of throwing my hands up and allowing the frustration to color all my days, I’m still learning and being part of a solution is why they brought us on. But sometimes, you have to look beyond your immediate situation at whatever might be coming at you from the side, front, behind, or beneath. Cover your tush, girl.

“I’m sure these are growing pains”, or “I’m sure this will get better”, are mantras we repeat daily, sometimes hourly, when things seem like they’re going in circles or not at all. At some point, that mantra can shift to a darker, more cynical, “This place sucks”, or “…Typical”, depending on how far you go.

My counterpart, let’s call him A, is more experienced than I am in the mighty ways of UX Architecture, this much has been clear from the beginning. He has the lingo down pat, he seems to know exactly what the next steps are in any situation and moreover, knows precisely how everyone is failing at success and he is not shy to point it out. Being somewhat new in this branch of UX, I cannot help but be impacted by the verbal shrapnel his criticisms fling in all directions. I began to see the company we work for as confused, floundering, barely run effectively, and full of idiots. Except for us, of course.

I did not like feeling this way and began to resent going to the office every day and seeing him sitting there, apparently just waiting for me to show up so he had someone to complain to. I found myself wondering why he’d stay, we’re contractors after all and it’s not like the people who put us in our jobs want someone who is miserable, to stay there. It reflects poorly on their choices of candidates and hinders their abilities to place more people in the future. They’d rather work with the unhappy worker and find them something new than allow them to stay on, potentially poisoning a well.

A month ago or so, after I found myself nodding through gritted teeth at yet another gripe session, I pitched the idea to our boss that we split up and work independently. Not only would it keep stakeholders happy to see us working on their projects at twice the pace, but in theory it would give me a break from this constant complainer, who was beginning to deeply affect how I felt about the employer too. I wasn’t ready to be bitter and resigned, I needed something to work for and take joy in.

My boss agreed and split us up to do work on a project or two each at the same time, and while that worked well for a month or so, it wasn’t long before we were back at the same desks or offices together, every day, complaints flying. Eventually I looked at A and asked if he was job seeking elsewhere. He seemed momentarily startled and glanced over his shoulder to see who might have overheard the question (no one, I made sure before asking).

The floodgates opened. Yes, he said, he had been looking but it turned out that “no one can afford” him and the cost of living in our city, he felt, was too high (it is not, I assured him, I just moved from a city with disproportionate COL:income), so a pay cut isn’t an option.

I began to notice a pattern with A. He talked a very, very good game but mostly, I realized, he’s full of crap. I figure that he has everyone snowed, convinced that he is deeply needed, very important in the UX scene, and knows more than anyone in the room (or anyone he works for). I took a step back and looked at the work he was doing, his bad relationships with our stakeholders, and then saw something I had been too intimidated by his touted experience to see previously: I can do the work he’s doing just as well, if not better, and people like working with me.

This revelation brought about two things. One, a new sense of confidence that I was no longer phoning it in or secretly faking it until I made it, because I was making it, and two, the company doesn’t actually need two people to do this job. We could do it with one UX Architect to work with the stakeholders in discovery and ideation sessions, and one dedicated UI designer to handle the wireframes and prototypes. With that team, maybe we could finally embrace an Agile system instead of waterfall, where we currently hope and pray things fall into place as we go.

On day last week I had lunch with a friend who works at our office and who also happened to work previously with A. I explained to him my frustrations working with A and his constant negativity, and told my friend about an idea I was rolling around: If A left the position like he’s been threatening to do, and they took it down to one Architect, it would save the company money while also eliminating a presence that is becoming increasingly cancerous to the process.

My friend encouraged me to speak to my boss. I told him it felt underhanded and a little sabotage-y but he replied that A is not shy about how unhappy he is, the problems he sees with the company as being unfixable, he comes in late daily, and expresses frequently his frustration with stakeholders through passive aggressive comments and eye rolls. The writing is on the wall for those willing to see it. So after lunch, I went to my boss’s office and said that if, and I don’t know anything for sure or have any concrete evidence, but if A would not renew his contract when it expires in July, that I feel the UX Architecture part of our team could be handled by me and a dedicated UI designer. I explained that having a designer would free me up to work with the stakeholders, which is all they really want, and would push Agile into a potential reality. That’s it. He didn’t ask for more information or proof, he nodded, looked intrigued, and left me with… I would describe it as… an optimistic “alright”.

Was it the right thing to do? Was I throwing my hat into a non-existent ring? Would they take my idea seriously and let me do it myself or would they get a more seasoned Architect in there to co-work? I have no idea. I can say that the company does not excel at stellar financial decision-making and they tend to think spending money is a failsafe against failure. But I know that I have my boss’s support in most anything that I do, and in spite of my own misgivings about the company’s future as a whole, I know that I can do the job and do it well. I will rise to the challenges and forge ahead with the solid and promising stakeholder relationships that I’m building.

I do keep my eye on the job boards, for my contract also expires in July and it would be unwise to presume anything about anything, but it feels better having made what some might consider a “power play” than simply waiting to see what might be around the corner. If nothing else, it has set me apart from my coworker, who only ever seems to be about the complaints where as I want to be part of a solution.

One Door Closes, A Yacht Pulls Up

Grab some coffee, this is a long one.

As some of you may know, I’ve been in UX for a little over two years but had been a team of one except for the three-month contracted gig that just ended. I paused the search for the Christmas/New Years break then applied for UX positions with two international retail brand companies and went on interviews for both. I was contacted by two different recruiters and worked with them through the process.

Company A interviewed me for a straight across the board UX Designer role on an established team, with processes in place and systems to follow. The interview went well and my recruiter thought I’d have an offer that day or early the next day.

Company B interviewed me for what I thought was the same role but after speaking to the Sr., he passed me to his boss, the VP of Digital, and head data analyst. Suddenly, they were speaking to me about a position that didn’t closely resemble what I thought I was there to discuss and when I asked for clarification, they said there were two positions and wondered if I was interested in the other (more of a strategist/architect role, less hands on design). I left confused since it was so far from what I thought I was there for, and called my recruiter immediately to get more information. He was also confused.

It turned out that they felt so strongly about my personality, portfolio offerings, and demeanor, that they began to push hard that I be considered for the strategist/architect role instead, a role they hadn’t made public or informed the recruiters about. No one had ever mentioned such a career track to me previously, I didn’t think it was worth considering given my lack of head down, team-based UX design time, and thought surely company B was delusional and, frankly, wrong. My portfolio is full of wireframes and user flows, which I’ve now come to find out are far less common than finished work featuring mostly UI (particularly user flows, which have always been a strong suit of mine).

Company A’s offer didn’t come same-day and I reached out to the Company B recruiter to ask if I could go back to Company B and further discuss the opportunity, since I truly couldn’t understand why they’d be so interested in me for a created position I didn’t feel at all qualified for. I met with the VP again, got a tour, met some of the team I’d be working with, and we got a chance to have a transparent, honest conversation about my misgivings as well as the other interview I’d had. He was beyond encouraging, said that in speaking with me felt that I was the exact person and personality match they were looking for, and felt they wouldn’t find another person that ticked all the boxes they had in mind for the job. I left that meeting with an unofficial offer, and the official offer came later that day.

My concern is warranted, I’m not blind. I am particularly worried that I’m skipping over potentially years of hands-on experience before walking into a company or two and helping them with theirs. Company B insists I will not be alone, I’ll have all of their support plus a Project Owner counterpart, and since it’s a created position, we can build it as we go.

I accepted the role and let Company A’s recruiter know that if things had been equal, I’d have accepted theirs. There, it would meant real time put in doing the work, solid experience, the safety of tested methods, and after a year or two I’d have likely moved onto another company. I worry that an elevated position such as this, a specialty-within-a-specialty will make it harder to find something comparable when I leave it.

But the hesitation was coming from somewhere beyond the professional voice; it was personal. Not so much impostor syndrome doubts, but more the kind I felt when D pursued me hard and I wondered, “Why me? What does he see in me that is such a big deal?” Followed with a little bit of, “Why do they want someone without all of the experience who would probably do better and not screw things up?” All of the self confidence that I have, I have mustered or worked to see and feel, it does not come naturally to me. When things like this happen, I narrow my eyes and look for the anvil. I’m working through that though, I won’t let it get me.

Ultimately, in spite of my misgivings, I took Company B’s extreme confidence in me into account and chose to take the risk of an unknown quantity (in terms of established processes) rather than go the safe route. An opportunity like this would have taken many more years and a dozen connections in my old city, I felt I couldn’t let it pass. So I have 10 more days of quiet couch, baking, dog, husband, and errand time, then a trip to New Orleans, then I dive into the unknown.