tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7729586808935719622024-03-13T23:48:01.678-04:00Reluctantly FemaleWriting about my nascent career, family, and gender identity.jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-26560554348314235062015-10-14T09:30:00.000-04:002015-10-14T09:30:02.086-04:00Disaster Coaster UpdateDo you remember that <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/06/dead-pajamas-become-crafty-rag-thing.html">disaster coaster</a> I made three years ago? Of course you don't. You can click the link or you can take my word for it. Well, it died, and so did another pair of pajama pants, so I had another go.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a class="WLrLpb" href="https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/albums/pai88f8nkiuugdgjijfa0u7uccugbpg6b?pid=6205296212627024978&oid=101284969830453306561" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" tabindex="-1" target="_blank"><img alt="ball of blue-and-purple plaid yarn made out of old pajama pants" class="uqvYjb KgFPz" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Xf6s3SG-_EQ/Vh2kBz-17FI/AAAAAAAAB_8/wTV_3679XSk/s512/2015-10-13.jpg" title="Also, I got a bigger hook." /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So far, so lumpy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I may have slightly had to raid the garbage can for scraps I'd thrown away when I didn't have quite enough. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a class="WLrLpb" href="https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/albums/pai88f8nkiuugdgjijfa0u7uccugbpg6b?pid=6205296112762294002&oid=101284969830453306561" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" tabindex="-1" target="_blank"><img alt="large crocheted trivet in the same pattern as the above yarn (a blue and purple plaid), slightly larger in diameter than a Nintendo DS XL." class="uqvYjb KgFPz" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Hz64q7IuNFk/Vh2j7_9PDvI/AAAAAAAAB_w/AW2NtAf7UkU/s512/2015-10-13.jpg" title="perfectly round. PERFECTLY. Shhhh." /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strike>Game Boy</strike> Nintendo DS XL for scale.That's a perfectly reasonable reference point, right?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It went better this time around.<br />
<br />jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-33714575573746449532015-10-13T20:32:00.002-04:002015-10-13T20:32:46.272-04:00Quickly, Before it EvaporatesSince last I blogged, I gave birth. My kid's 15 months old now. I spent the last 4 months of pregnancy and the first 10 months of my daughter's life with no energy to do anything.<br />
<br />
Then, I started playing rugby. That was better, and once I'd started to do that I found do other things as well.<br />
<br />
Today, I woke up at 5:45. My dawn alarm clock keeps losing time, and I need to fix it.<br />
<br />
Instead of rolling over, I got up and made muffins. While they were in the oven, I dragged one of my boys out to the little green space two blocks from my house, for company, and ran sprints: Google maps suggests each is 240 feet; I measure them in lightpoles (and of those, I ran six sets of two lightpoles). It isn't much, but I sweat. I couldn't do it four months ago.<br />
<br />
When I got back, my other boy had taken the muffins out of the oven. (He had crawled back into bed. He loves his sleep.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="a pan of blueberry muffins. two are missing from the pan." class="uqvYjb KgFPz" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-l0fdYqrbXwo/Vh2glbz71tI/AAAAAAAAB_c/8NBRzjRlyu4/s512/2015-10-13.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="one small tast at a time" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Muffins. They have blueberries in.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Tonight, I re-read The Phantom Tollbooth. New books still seem too hard, like I'll risk too many emotions. I take the little victories.<br />
<br />
I've been ruled by <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2013/12/closeted-with-something-to-lose.html">fear</a> for too long. I can't say fear won't rule me again, but for now, there are muffins.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-90735122447562366572014-03-02T09:38:00.000-05:002014-03-02T09:38:05.006-05:00Environmentalism, Dishwashers, and DebtAs I grew up, parents taught me about saving. They saved money by buying groceries in bulk when they were on sale. They re-used gift bags, film canisters, and peanut butter jars. They turned off lights when they left a room and kept the thermostat cold when we weren't home to benefit from the heat. The rainbarrel and the composter formed cornerstones of the garden, and I have never met a commercial fertilizer as rich as the combination of kitchen scraps and time. They avoided buying anything we didn't need.<br />
<br />
I learned a lot from my parents: enough to pay off over $10,000 of college debt and buy a house before I turned 25. (Full disclosure: I had a lot of help from them through college, but not enough to cover modern exorbitant college tuition, even after merit aid. I also suspect they were able to provide so much help because of their careful, responsible resource management.)<br />
<br />
Today, I was discussing whether it made sense to run the dishwasher every day, even if it's only mostly full. To check my facts, I consulted the Internet. According to About.com, when full, "<a href="http://environment.about.com/od/greenlivingdesign/a/dishwashers.htm">the dishwasher uses only half the energy, one-sixth of the water, and less soap than hand-washing an identical set of dirty dishes</a>".<br />
<br />
"So," I said, "it is, of course, better to run full loads whenever possible. But it's not awful compared to hand-washing if we run a smaller load when we need to. The difference in water consumption is huge."<br />
<br />
"Actually, where we live, water is cheap and plentiful. I don't care how much water I use," he replied.<br />
<br />
This floored me. Water is vital to life, and even if we've grown up with the luxury of having as much as we like for very little money, we shouldn't squander what we have.<br />
<br />
It makes me wonder: does this kind of indifferent attitude carry over into money management? Budgeting is the first place where a blase "it isn't expensive, so it doesn't matter what I do" thought process can snowball into not having money for the things that do matter. This is where the make-your-own-coffee budgeting advice comes from: a few dollars here and there may not feel like much to pay, but is <i>always a few dollars you will not have again</i> until you work to earn more.<br />
<br />
Perhaps we could all benefit by using the same advice we use to balance our budgets to decide whether to spend every precious resource in our life. Time, water, goods, and electricity: all these are valuable and finite in the same way money is in your personal finances. Why not treat them as carefully we would any precious resource?<br />
<br />
We don't need to change our lifestyles drastically. We don't need to all move into 100-square-foot micro-houses or adopt anti-consumer minimalist lifestyles. We just need to apply a little thought to every resource we spend. If it doesn't benefit us to spend it, save it for another day when we may need it more.jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-58661185079613843272013-12-03T20:20:00.001-05:002013-12-03T20:20:17.708-05:00Closeted with Something to LoseHey folks, I <a href="http://www.autostraddle.com/fat-booty-butch-wears-leggings-confuses-world-confronts-self-204824/">read a thing on the internet</a> and it made me have feelings. I know the author's experiences aren't about my feelings, that I should listen/signal boost more and talk less, but I'm not sure how it does people any good to have me shut up all the time. Is there some kind of magic ratio? Someone who knows how this is done please clue me in? I Google stuff, but there's no comprehensive guide about how to not be a jerk. I still haven't worked out what "check your privilege" means in practice, even if I have (finally) worked out that I have a lot of it. So go read that other piece, at least.<br />
<br />
When I was in high school, I had very little fear. I <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2013/11/these-shoes-wont-last-forever.html">wore boy's jeans</a>, fitted tops from ThinkGeek, pink fuzzy slippers, duct-taped my mouth for Day of Silence, and flirted with everyone. I'd been out since basically middle school when I'd had the least-closeted relationship possible, and my mother had told me that I could date as many girls as I liked as long as I quit lying that hickeys I came home with were mosquito bites*. When ScanTron forms asked me for my gender, I marked "Male" half the time because "Female" wasn't right either, and when they left a blank when asking for my "sex" I wrote "YES PLEASE". What was the worst that could happen? If people didn't like me, then I didn't like them, my grades always reflected my ADHD (the full range from F to A), and I didn't have a job to lose.<br />
<br />
Eventually, I grew out of my adolescent belligerence, but that didn't stop me from being open about any of it, if anyone cared to ask or look up my Facebook profile. I stayed less-belligerent-still-open as I went to two colleges, trying to figure out how to make a living in the world, working at a preschool and at a minimum-wage retail job to pay for books because my family had generously contributed most of my tuition. What did I have to fear?<br />
<br />
Then I got accepted at Clarkson University with a merit scholarship that covered most of what my parents couldn't, and I found out some of what I have to fear. I had signed up for on-campus housing because I didn't have the contacts or time to look for off-campus housing, and I was placed with three blonde girls, two of whom were in the Army ROTC program.<br />
<br />
I don't know if it was because of my Facebook profile or if it was just because I wasn't their friend whose spot I'd been placed in, but they treated me like I had walked into their house with a dripping suitcase full of virulent pond scum rather than a couple sets of cheap plastic drawers for my clothes and an extra-long twin bedding set. In a thousand tiny ways, they made it clear that I wasn't welcome-- not to exist there, not even to study late in the library and come home at two in the morning to sleep before I left for a nine o'clock class. I raised my concerns with the housing department and the RA staff, but everyone refused to help me. "Compromise more," the people who might have helped told me. I didn't know where else I could compromise and still maintain the GPA I needed for my scholarship.<br />
<br />
It was three against one, and it wasn't worth taking a stand. They drove me out of what was supposed to be my home. I moved off-campus the next semester, living with three guys who were more than happy that I was picking up the rent their friend wasn't paying, but I remembered that when three people decided I wasn't worth respect, nothing in the world could make them treat me like a human. I had found my fear.<br />
<br />
I felt it every time I tried to go to a hockey game and the Pep Band yelled homophobic slurs, every time I saw a women-in-engineering quote defaced in the hallway. I met people richer and more conservative than I'd ever met before, my-vacation-home-has-more-bedrooms-than-your-actual-home rich and all-poor-people-are-lazy conservative. I found out that the real reason Clarkson gets people jobs after graduating relates to its historically-wealthy alumni network, and I learned whose favor I'd need to curry if I wanted to find similar success and pay off my loans.<br />
<br />
I have one of those alumni-network jobs now, so I spend effort to look like an ambitious, straight, white, cis, married woman. Nothing to see here, employer, just another hard worker doing her job and trying to prove she wants a career (not just a job for maternity benefits). It's not even so far from the truth: plenty of people are happy to argue with me about whether I'm gay enough or far enough outside the gender binary to count as anything but.<br />
<br />
I hear the comments the higher-ups in my company make, about women and about people of color and about anything that's outside of their upper-middle-class aesthetic, and mostly I put my head down. When I feel brave, I suggest we go out for Thai instead of steak and quietly explain that I was personally kind of uncomfortable when my boss's boss made that comment about how my co-worker should take her sweater off. I'm scared I'll risk my job, my paycheck, my home, the food on my table, if I say more.<br />
<br />
I know I've sold out, but I don't know what else I could do that would be any better. The world taught me that it expects me to behave in a certain way, <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2013/08/my-breasts-offending-everyone-since-1999.html">present myself</a> in a certain way, and that there will be consequences if I don't.<br />
<br />
I behave.<br />
<br />
_________<br />
*Actually, I think she wanted me to stop coming home with hickeys, period. I love you, Mom.jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-92087027454883941872013-11-19T19:52:00.000-05:002013-11-19T19:52:13.212-05:00These Shoes Won't Last Forever"I wear a size 11 women's shoe and a size 9 men's," I told a friend today.<br />
<br />
"Do women normally know their size in men's shoes?" he asked.<br />
<br />
"I don't think so," I said. "I know because it used to be really hard to find sneakers that I liked and that fit."<br />
<br />
I wasn't telling the whole truth there. I wore jeans from the men's section, too, and it's not because they really fit better on my hipsy, curvy build, no matter how much I protested that they did at the time.<br />
<br />
Maybe I was using a different definition of the word "fit".<br />
<br />
It made me wonder why I don't buy a pair of men's dress shoes. I don't wear heels, except under duress, because I don't like the way they feel, I don't care about the way they look, and I don't want to have to learn how to walk in them in order to fit someone else's idea of gender conformity. Flats don't go with every outfit, and I'm not sure I'll be able to find another pair of shoes like my now-bedraggled chunky black dress shoe. Maybe I could find something work-appropriate in the men's section, if I looked there.<br />
<br />
I love seeing women and people of many genders* dress in masculine ways. It's one part attraction, one part admiration, and maybe one part jealousy, because I've never quite been able to pull the look off and generally plump for buying clothes that are "right for my body type". Maybe, if I tried harder and looked up some how-to guides on the internet, I could dress that way too in spite of my hips and my <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2013/08/my-breasts-offending-everyone-since-1999.html">breasts</a>.<br />
<br />
But no one at my place of employment goes anywhere near the lines of blurring gender roles. There's even a dress code neatly spelled out in two columns: women may wear this, men may wear that. Plus, I enjoy my work. I like the paycheck, the house and the bills and the food it pays for. Having money and being employed beats the hell out of the <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/07/unemployed-two-months-out-of-school.html">other</a> <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/08/wish-list-for-job-postings.html">option</a>. Maybe this makes me a coward, that I'm too scared to lose career opportunities to even look for men's shoes that might make me feel great (and that might not. Who knows?). I know that it makes me lucky, because I'm wondering what shoes I can wear to keep a job, instead of (for example) whether I can buy new shoes at all.<br />
<br />
I guess I have a decision to make: would I rather spend hours shopping, looking for shoes I like that toe the dress code line but don't make me want to throw them through a window after wearing them for two hours? should I just suck it up and cope with heels for the sake of the paycheck? am I brave enough to alter my wardrobe and make it more masculine?<br />
<br />
Clock's ticking. These shoes won't last forever.<br />
<br />
_________<br />
*Not all genders in this particular case. Talking here about the range of genders that starts with some acknowledgement of having ladybits, or having once had them, and adds a layer or few of what's traditionally considered "masculine". I know I don't have all the very best words to describe it, and I'm trying to be as inclusive as possible while still successfully communicating about a particular set of gender expressions that make sense to me. Please feel free to add any language suggestions in the comments.jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-55551600699058582052013-09-17T21:56:00.000-04:002013-09-17T21:56:14.626-04:00School Bus Lesson<br />
<div chat-dir="f" class="km" role="chatMessage" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-left: 1em;">
<div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":14a" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
Every morning in the third grade I got on first stop that the school bus made. They tell you in the bus drills to fill in the seats neatly, one-two one-two, from the front to the back, <span dir="ltr" id=":146">but you never do, you always sit in the farthest seat from the driver.</span></div>
<div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":14a" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
<span dir="ltr"><br /></span></div>
<div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":14a" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
<span dir="ltr">Every morning, I got on first, so I got to choose. I chose the seat at the back.</span></div>
<div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":14a" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
<span dir="ltr"><br /></span></div>
<div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":14a" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
<span dir="ltr"><div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":142" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
Every morning, the boy who lived two blocks down from me would get on after me. Every morning, he took the other back seat.</div>
<div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":142" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
<br /></div>
<div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":141" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
"Good morning," I said, every morning. I had moved that October. School buses were new to me. Everything was new to me.</div>
<div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":141" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
<br /></div>
<div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":140" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
"Shut up," he said back, every morning.</div>
<div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":140" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
<br /></div>
<div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":140" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
<span class="kn" style="cursor: default; font-weight: bold; margin-left: -1em; zoom: 1;" title="michelereitz@gmail.com"><br /></span></div>
<div class="kl" dir="ltr" id=":140" style="margin-bottom: 0.2em;">
<span class="kn" style="cursor: default; font-weight: bold; margin-left: -1em; zoom: 1;" title="michelereitz@gmail.com"> </span> <span dir="ltr" id=":13z">I guess that's when I learned that unfailing politeness can really annoy people who choose to be deliberately unkind for no reason.</span></div>
</span></div>
</div>
jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-42797369955541215762013-08-28T21:25:00.004-04:002013-08-28T21:25:46.116-04:00My Breasts: Offending Everyone Since 1999One of the regulars at Zumba pulled me aside yesterday.<br />
<br />
"What's your name?" she asked, which was friendly, so I told her.<br />
<br />
"You seem nice," she said. "So don't take this the wrong way."<br />
<br />
It never goes well when someone says this.<br />
<br />
"I've heard other people talking about you," she continued. "About your breasts."<br />
<br />
Why yes, my breasts are nice. I like them quite a lot, actually.<br />
<br />
"They move a lot," she said. "And I understand because I have large breasts too."<br />
<br />
Oh my goodness. It is like I exercise at exercise class, and my breasts obey the laws of fluid dynamics!<br />
<br />
"So you need to wear two bras," she finished blithely. "Not just one. You're really all over the place."<br />
<br />
She stopped then, waiting for a response.<br />
<br />
"Understood," I said curtly, because I did understand. I understood that I was not conforming, that I was being judged for having the wrong body. I understood that the "other people" believed that their right to not be confronted with my breasts, clad in only a single sports bra and a tank top, superseded my right to exercise in only one bra and a tank top.<br />
<br />
I don't buy it. My breasts are part of my body, and I am not ashamed of them. They move when I exercise because I exercise for me, not for society's approval. I'm sorry that they're offended, and I'm sorry that they can't see that mine is another body that is a good body to have.<br />
<br />
It's not the first time someone has complained about my breasts. Perhaps I should buy or make a witty t-shirt about it, as it appears that I am doomed to offend people with my unacceptable breasts.<br />
<br />
<br />
And I don't even have a child to breastfeed.<br />
jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-36400318422459089182013-05-20T18:53:00.000-04:002013-05-20T18:53:25.565-04:00Dear Government, Regarding My Upcoming WeddingDear Government,<br />
<br />
I'm getting married in a little more than two months, for some definition of the word. I'm not sure whether we're going to sign on to your institution. It seems wrong to me that you deny benefits to some couples and not others, even though we look reasonably like a hetero couple and qualify for the institution. I'm lucky enough that K is willing to talk through the reasons for my reluctance and that we're in a financial position where I don't depend on any of the <a href="http://www.gao.gov/new.items/d04353r.pdf">benefits of the institution</a>.<br />
<br />
So I've been doing some research about how we can start a family together, how we can designate each other as beneficiaries, how assumptions of paternity will figure in to how our children will be treated. I looked up and read a sample <a href="http://www.hrc.org/files/assets/resources/co-parenting.pdf">co-parenting agreement</a>. I've learned that surrogacy isn't always legal and that adultery laws can override the mutual consent of the parties involved (though apparently this isn't often enforced).<br />
<br />
And after this research, I have a question for you, government.<br />
<br />
I am an adult, and I am trying to put together a contract with another adult so that we can form a family. We want to take proactive measures to ensure the welfare of our future children and make sure that we have signed an agreement that will sustain our happiness and stability in the (hopefully many) years to come, and we've found that the institution you've put together doesn't always suit us. We're willing to put in the work to find a better way, and it won't cost you anything.<br />
<br />
Why won't you let us?<br />
<br />
Regards,<br />
JPjpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-87604250033101290732012-12-27T23:29:00.001-05:002012-12-27T23:29:47.098-05:00Lining Up the Ducks<div>
When we got engaged, K's mother was full of sage advice for us. "Only fight about the things that matter," she admonished. When we started fighting a few months ago, one of our friends had some more prosaic advice. "Don't break up until after New Year's," he instructed me. "There's too much going on right now for you to make big decisions with a clear head." They were both right.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was our first really big fight, long-distance over the course of the last two months-- related to stress of his last semester and my new job and both of us feeling like the other had excluded us from their lives (and we weren't wrong, but it wasn't related to a lack of caring about each other as much as it was related to a lack of communication and generally being overwhelmed by the major life changes).</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The resolution, in short form, was simple: I graduated in May, he graduated a few weeks ago in December, we've both secured jobs (that are even less than an hour apart from one another!), and we're buying a house. We've been busy, building our life together and troubleshooting the issues.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We can do this, and when we fight, we will take the opportunity to grow.</div>
jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-52108673854610664892012-10-07T17:04:00.001-04:002012-10-07T17:04:46.029-04:00New Jobsville: Week One<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I've been in New Jobsville a week now. It's been an adventure-- last weekend I was in Boston with my fraternity, so I had a healthy dose of travel to get here at ten o'clock on the night before my job started. Compounding the nature of adventure, I'm staying with my cousin while I find a permanent place to live.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I love the job so far-- it seems like I'll be doing real, meaningful things as soon as I can wrap my head around how things work. I think I'm doing well getting up to speed, but sadly no knowledge transfer is instantaneous (yet. Someone should get on inventing that). </span>Even though I caught a nasty cold on Thursday that carried into Friday (and who gets sick on their first week of work?), I was able to keep (mostly) up by the end of the week.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">K and I went house-hunting on Tuesday. We found a possible place-- hardwood floors and just enough space!-- and now I need to get financing out of a bank. On the one hand, I've got six years of paying all my bills on time; on the other, I haven't had too many bills to pay (credit card, semesterly rent, some utilities when I was in MO). Worst of all, I just started a new job, and I hear that banks like to see you in a job for a year before they give you a mortgage.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I really don't want to rent an apartment here for a year, not after I've seen the offerings available. All the available apartments seem to have layouts that feel more cramped than the square footage suggests, with small rooms and odd, constricted doorways and hallways. Rent often includes non-refundable deposits and exceeds mortgage payments* for a fraction of the quality of life. Even the supposedly pet-friendly complexes frown when I mention Kieron's cat.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">We're house people, K and I. We like making our space our own, and we'd rather fix something ourselves than call a landlord. We want the space to entertain. So, I'm working on it-- trying to find time to get to a bank or meet with a mortgage broker.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">People who have bought houses-- how do you get to places with limited hours (banks, the post office) when you're working a full-time job? What are your stories of buying your first house-- and what advice would you give to someone buying their first house?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">_____________</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">*Based on a 30-year mortgage and the houses K and I have viewed. If (when, hopefully) K and I buy a house, we hope to have a shorter mortgage. Yes, the payments are higher in the short term, but they are still within my budget, still comparable to rent, and they produce a better financial picture in almost any scenario I have projected.</span>jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-25704820994361007382012-09-26T22:30:00.003-04:002012-09-26T22:30:34.098-04:00A Completely Natural Reaction to Good Things HappeningGetting a job froze me. Figuratively, of course, but I got the offer and promptly shut down. (Well, not quite promptly. First, I negotiated salary, which was even more bogglingly terrifying, even though I succeeded from my point of view.) Instead of doing the nice, productive things I'd been doing all summer, like exercising and eating healthy food and generally doing the sorts of things that human beings do, I buried myself under a blanket and read the equivalent of 20 books in miscellaneous fiction.<br />
<br />
I'm moving a couple hours away from my parents' house and starting a new job. This shouldn't be a big deal. I mean, I've moved twenty hours away for internships when I'd never had a "real" job before, right? It never bothered me like this.<br />
<br />
But I went to visit apartments, and I hated all of them. Hated-- as in, I could not wait to leave. Plus, they seemed like a lot of money for not a lot of living space, and a lot of them had tons of fees and distressingly pushy landlords. (Non-refundable security deposit? I need to fill out this rental application right now, or else I'll need to get it notarized or make the hours-long drive back to the rental office and pay a $50 application fee for an apartment that may not even be available? No, thanks.)<br />
<br />
So, I spent some quality time with rent-vs.-buy calculators like <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/business/buy-rent-calculator.html">this one</a> and discovered that renting makes absolutely no sense for us whatsoever. We can get more living space in for less money if we buy. Plus, we love the idea of owning. Owning a house has been my dream since I was six or so. When other girls were dreaming about their wedding, I was drawing floor plans and designing gardens. More happy for less money doesn't come up often, so we're going for it.<br />
<br />
K and I spent last night browsing house listings online. Today, I ignored the butterflies in my stomach and called a real estate agent and a bank. <span style="background-color: transparent;">Phrases like "well, this will be good when we have children" have entered my discussion on a regular basis. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent;">I feel like this is the stuff of fantasies. My fantasies, even, where I have a kid and a partner and a space of my own where I can cook dinner,</span><span style="background-color: transparent;"> paint the walls, and plant day lilies. I want this: this is the reason I went to the bank on my eighteenth birthday for a credit card to begin building my credit history, this is the reason I saved ruthlessly during my internships and paid off my college debt. I should feel happy, right?</span><br />
<br />
Instead, Big Life Changes mode has gone into overdrive. Not only am I starting a new job, I'm also going to sign a mortgage, buy a house, and (eventually) get married to someone who will have to live in that house with me. It terrifies me. I'm dragging myself through every step, giving myself pep talks before every phone call. I'm starting to bundle my belongings into suitcases, but a lot of them, I'm leaving where they are-- I'll have to stay with family while I'm house-hunting, because I had hoped to have an apartment and I don't. I can live out of a suitcase for a month-- I've done it before, when I studied abroad-- but it's still scary.<br />
<br />
No one warned me that getting everything I've dreamed about and worked for would come with a side of nerves. Now, the best I can do is to power through it, knowing that I'll be glad I did once the massive changes are over.<br />
<br />
Wish me luck.jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-66322367847248031292012-08-21T11:30:00.001-04:002012-08-21T11:30:10.756-04:00Starting a Career as "We" (not "I")<span style="background-color: white;">If you had asked me three years ago what I considered the most important part of my life, I would have unhesitatingly told you that I cared more about establishing a career than any other life goals. I had just graduated from community college, where few of my local friends had goals similar to </span><a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/04/who-will-i-be-when-i-graduate.html" style="background-color: white;">mine</a><span style="background-color: white;">.</span><br />
<br />
K and I are getting married largely because he wants to, and I don't not want to get married enough to argue. I love him and want him to be happy, and getting married makes him happy. That said, the institution of marriage makes me uncomfortable: it involves the community in what I consider a private relationship and opens healthy relations to public scrutiny. Plus, it traditionally involves the commingling of assets, and I haven't successfully established myself as an individual with individual assets.*<br />
<br />
This terrifies me. Another <a href="http://apracticalwedding.com/2012/08/building-careers-becoming-established-in-a-young-marriage/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+APracticalWedding+%28A+Practical+Wedding%29&utm_content=Google+Reader">smart person from the internet</a> writes: "<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; text-align: left;"><i>I often think that as a feminist, I should be self-driven, self-motivated, and self-inspired when it comes to my career.</i>" This sums up my feelings precisely: I want to establish myself individually before I commit to establishing myself as part of a marriage. K keeps offering to give me money if I need it, but this makes me really uncomfortable. I'm supposed to have my own money: we're not technically married yet.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; text-align: left;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; text-align: left;">The problem? I want to marry K, and I want to marry him now. Yesterday, even. Every time we see each other, we're tempted to call up our friend, who's an officiant, and just get the paperwork done.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; text-align: left;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; text-align: left;">See, we're already half-married for most practical purposes: we've already effectively made a life-long commitment to each other. Breaking our engagement now might not be as legally tricky as a divorce, but it would have a huge impact on our community. We've already integrated into each other's family. We have more friends as a couple than we have as individuals.** We'd have to figure out how to divvy up the kitchen stuff and the bedding and even a little bit of furniture.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Times;"><br /></span></div>
So, I can't look for a job without considering him. I can't take just any offer that sounds like a good fit for me: I need to wonder if he'll be able to find a job, too. I need to consider if the job will force me to relocate often. I need to figure out how far we can each commute and how long we're willing to live apart (not long: we've already done it quite a bit, and we don't like it very much). On the flip side of this, though, he's looking for a job, too, and only one of us needs to find work before both of us can move and begin establishing our family. I need to remember that I'm not in this alone, even if it feels that way while he's finishing his last semester. It's only a few months until he graduates.<br />
<br />
Starting a career as a "we" makes the job search harder. Having K is worth it.<br />
<br />
________________<br />
*To be fair, K hasn't established himself, either.<br />
**We do each have our own friends, and we're not isolating each other or anything creepy like that. It's just a side effect of our relationship: we meet and grow to like each other's friends.jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-73149801250343351812012-08-11T12:23:00.001-04:002012-08-11T12:23:27.809-04:00Its Courage Had Seen It ThroughI'm working on a craft project and actually making pretty good progress, which thrills me because I haven't been making good progress on very much lately. I was going to blog about it, but while I was in the basement looking for some scrap cardboard, I found our Game Boy Color, which I had thought was lost to the ages.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0BgWbu-r731hMGUP81B8KnZ2Prh1HVXdMcJzRWeNhanAVghGweVWXt2AZ8GmT0nu7RJP6rvmbs_CUXn1ixOsiuCYJMZ6_cCTXcjgPFIXXDC8DV7KSifZiZbr7phMwSFMKgqfJmdkwfTY/s1600/IMAG0482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="a green game boy color and four games: Tetris, Pokemon Gold, Pokemon Crystal, and Pokemon Red" border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0BgWbu-r731hMGUP81B8KnZ2Prh1HVXdMcJzRWeNhanAVghGweVWXt2AZ8GmT0nu7RJP6rvmbs_CUXn1ixOsiuCYJMZ6_cCTXcjgPFIXXDC8DV7KSifZiZbr7phMwSFMKgqfJmdkwfTY/s320/IMAG0482.jpg" title="Gotta catch 'em all." width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm really glad I saved those games.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So now I have a crafts project that's going well and some Pokémon to catch. I guess I will have to bump the real blog post to tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Catch you all then!jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-53819417485801883372012-08-10T21:56:00.002-04:002012-08-10T22:40:38.184-04:00Other People On The Internet Are Smart<div>
I have found some posts around the internet related to the things I am trying to do. I could try to summarize and give my own take on each of these, but instead, I will round up some links.<br />
<br />
I am not the only one trying to <a href="http://apracticalwedding.com/2012/08/redefining-career-success-in-marriage/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+APracticalWedding+%28A+Practical+Wedding%29&utm_content=Google+Reader">balance a fiancé and a job hunt</a>. Fortunately, if it doesn't work out in either the short or long terms, I don't have to feel <a href="http://www.theyoungmommylife.com/2012/08/08/yml-voices-how-i-make-being-a-stay-at-home-mom-work-for-me/">crushed because I'm not "successful"</a> (thought I am terrified of being unable to contribute to the household. I always dreamed I would have a nice permanent partner interested in doing the bulk of the home stuff, and while K is game for that, he may be more employable than I am, at least over the short term, and we will have to make it work however we can).<br />
<br />
How to build a <a href="http://corporette.com/2012/08/02/how-to-build-a-professional-wardrobe-for-150/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+Corporette+%28Corporette.com%29&utm_content=Google+Reader">starter wardrobe</a> for $150. Or: it's OK that everything I own comes from the Target clearance rack (except for my bras) while I'm establishing myself professionally. I can <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/07/can-i-dress-for-job-i-want.html">replace things</a> later, once I actually have money. Apparently, jackets are magical things, which is brilliant because I love the concept of easy layering.<br />
<br />
Apparently following <a href="http://unfuckyourhabitat.tumblr.com/">a Tumblr that admonishes me to make my bed every morning</a> causes me actually make my bed every morning. I've set alarms to get myself to do things, but apparently if an actual person does the telling, it motivates me, <i>even if the person is a random stranger from the internet</i>. Now, I have extra magical space. Brilliant.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.theyoungmommylife.com/2012/08/07/no-your-school-cant-kick-you-out-because-youre-pregnant/">This is seriously creepy</a>. I can't even fathom what the school that want<span style="font-family: inherit;">s to "<i>[</i><span style="background-color: white; font-style: italic; line-height: 18px;">reserve] the right to require any female student to take a pregnancy test to confirm whether or not the suspected student is in fact pregnant" </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">th</span>inks it can accomplish through this pointless invasion of privacy, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know, either. Yuck.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent;"><b>EDIT TO ADD</b>: And <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/08/12/magazine/whats-so-bad-about-a-boy-who-wants-to-wear-a-dress.html?_r=4&hp">this</a>, which helps me articulate that, even though I have various behaviors that our culture has assigned a gender to, I still don't like assigning a gender to myself.</span></div>jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-35395732437626203742012-08-09T01:25:00.001-04:002012-08-09T01:25:38.085-04:00Pinterest Made Me Make CookiesI may need someone to ban me from Pinterest.<br />
<br />
You see, when a friend <a href="http://pinterest.com/jpnadia/">persuaded me to join</a>, I didn't think it could cause any harm. <i>What is the worst that could happen?</i> I thought rhetorically. <i>I pin a bunch of neat ideas and never follow up on them?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Apparently, the worst that can happen is that I find <a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/216524694555464593/">a neat idea</a> and then and entire evening disappears as I experiment with it.<br />
<br />
Here is what I did:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7V44toDVC-BzEq6lrW0YaPPOlPGz3Fj1LeP7g-iuNfCBUcgWDtQaYDfsk6cc2cjem5vsC2z0YH0DoX8tVJ3OCzZRJlIYinv37hQyQvKKiFBgm0RKlXvObWBqZ2SJyVubJv7LhqP_SorQ/s1600/cookiepaloozasmall.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="pictures of various stages of making marshmallow fondant. Picture One: unbaked cookie dough. Picture Two: partially-melted marshmallows. Picture Three: melted mixed marshmallows. Picture Four: marshmallows with icing sugar added. Picture Five: kneaded marshmallow-sugar concoction with fingerprints. Picture Six: cutouts of rolled-out marshmallow fondant. Picture Seven: baked cookies. Picture Eight: greek symbols on cookies. Picture Nine: Leftover fondant wrapped in cling wrap." border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7V44toDVC-BzEq6lrW0YaPPOlPGz3Fj1LeP7g-iuNfCBUcgWDtQaYDfsk6cc2cjem5vsC2z0YH0DoX8tVJ3OCzZRJlIYinv37hQyQvKKiFBgm0RKlXvObWBqZ2SJyVubJv7LhqP_SorQ/s1600/cookiepaloozasmall.png" title="I also made chocolate marshmallow fondant using the same process." /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Process.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The finished cookies looked like this:</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTSPf-qx6oiq_UHdHEplLqvcKAD8FuvaDa3jFwZFD3T2TCY4x78gCynei1ZBo9eXcwOQneFsQ9JlWoy9U6mA8TZDrIwZvsagvpOIr9ydMLvWEJvUPDsiOBUDpJajr5I159Od0nl5wYSQ8/s1600/IMAG0466.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Cookies decorated with mathematical and greek symbols, including phi, psi, sigma, pi, tau, h-bar, delta, zeta, an integral sign and an infinity sign." border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTSPf-qx6oiq_UHdHEplLqvcKAD8FuvaDa3jFwZFD3T2TCY4x78gCynei1ZBo9eXcwOQneFsQ9JlWoy9U6mA8TZDrIwZvsagvpOIr9ydMLvWEJvUPDsiOBUDpJajr5I159Od0nl5wYSQ8/s320/IMAG0466.jpg" title="A gift for a physicist." width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sideways, because I am lazy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5kaKy0L5fjSZq9Na4tbuWkWL_lDEMRS-vSkIYRi8Nnocjv18RfX_LS2oxwbt48_7CULfi-0FS5CvJqU4mSmj2RUXJW3Sz36mvFgEz564KmCFXry8825W__9c_w_kGy6zQ2-VkvfTbgOg/s1600/IMAG0465.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="picture of cookies wrapped on an index card that reads "I love you". The cookies spell out M-O-M." border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5kaKy0L5fjSZq9Na4tbuWkWL_lDEMRS-vSkIYRi8Nnocjv18RfX_LS2oxwbt48_7CULfi-0FS5CvJqU4mSmj2RUXJW3Sz36mvFgEz564KmCFXry8825W__9c_w_kGy6zQ2-VkvfTbgOg/s320/IMAG0465.jpg" title="Sometimes, bribery is the best way to smooth things over. (The smooth end of a knife dipped in water works better for fondant, though.)" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom was feeling unappreciated. I fixed it with cookies.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
WARNING: I gained three pounds from eating these cookies. (Whoops.) Proceed with caution.jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-80557395605861170542012-08-07T22:41:00.001-04:002012-08-07T22:46:28.696-04:00Wish List for Job PostingsRecently, I've found out that "entry level" jobs can require more than three years of relevant experience. This baffles me, so I hopped on the Internet to learn more. I follow the <a href="http://www.askamanager.org/">Ask A Manager blog</a> in an attempt to keep a sense of perspective and learn more about professional conduct, and in <a href="http://www.askamanager.org/2012/07/why-good-people-cant-get-jobs.html">this post</a>, Ms. Green recommends a book called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Why-Good-People-Cant-Jobs/dp/161363014X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1344303599&sr=8-1&keywords=why+good+people+can%27t+get+jobs">Why Good People Can't Get Jobs</a> by<a href="https://mgmt.wharton.upenn.edu/profile/1307/"> Peter Cappelli</a>. The Kindle version was under six dollars, so I decided to pick it up. It made me feel a great deal better about my job search and helped me articulate some things that hurt both employers and candidates.<br />
<br />
Based on this and some of my more recent job-search failures, I have developed a wish list for employers-- stuff that would make my life easier and might help out HR at the companies to which I've applied, too.<br />
<ol>
<li><b>If you're going to kick out my resume based on a hard-coded binary decision, do so </b><i style="font-weight: bold;">before</i><b> I spend 45 minutes filling out your application.</b><br /><br />Ms. Green suggests that Dr. Cappelli overstates how often this happens, but I know that it's happened to me at least once after filling out a particularly odious application. Most vexing, and super easy to fix.<br /><br />Look, you can even copy and paste the following phrase: "We will not consider applicants without ___________." Just fill in the blank, and I will automatically think better of your company (unless the requirement is ridiculous).</li>
<li><b>When you post "entry level" jobs or positions "for new graduates", make sure you clarify how much experience you require.</b><br /><br />I keep running into jobs "for new graduates" that require more than three years of experience. I realize there are a few people out there who worked between high school and college in professional roles and a few more who have gone back to school to change careers, but the pool of people in this boat can't be THAT big. Still, over the past week, I have started applying to at least three different "entry-level" jobs that list minimum experience levels ranging from three to seven years before cottoning on and either (a) abandoning application (for the one that required 5-10 years) or (b) applying anyway (for the one that specified a 3-year minimum).<br />
</li>
<li><b>The more searchable you make the job listings, the better I can determine which positions fit me well.</b><br /><br />Right now, as a recent graduate, I don't really live anywhere and I'm somewhat open to relocation. While "four hours away from anywhere else" doesn't work for me*, there are a lot of places I will move to at my own expense. I'm more interested in finding a position where I can make an impact and build value-- but I can't search positions based on skills and qualifications.</li>
<li><b>Similarly, the more detail you include in a job listing, the more productively everyone can use time.</b><br /><br />If you're looking for a mechanical engineer whose core responsibilities will be determining price and dimensions for gas furnaces, please say so-- I won't apply, mistakenly thinking that you're looking for a mathematician with some business sense, and you won't waste your time interviewing me. Meanwhile, bonus points to employers who list core requirements and then rank nice-to-have qualifications based on how important they find them. </li>
<li><b>Don't store passwords in plaintext.</b><br /><br />Just don't.</li>
</ol>
<div>
If anyone has any good workarounds for any of these, I'd love to hear them.</div>
<div>
_________</div>
<div>
*Where will K find a job if you are the only employer in a two-hour radius? Alternately, will you pay me enough to make up for his lost income?</div>jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-35734393160035672282012-08-02T20:50:00.000-04:002012-08-02T20:50:04.507-04:00A Profligate LayaboutMy fiancé makes me feel better when I don't want to do the things I know I have to do. It's a small thing, but I appreciate it (and the rest of him, of course).<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>ME:</b> Waaahhh. I don't wanna cut up this chicken. I wanna lie in bed with the fan blowing on me and eat a Klondike bar while I read my book.<br /><b>K:</b> I can't remember the last time I had a Klondike bar.<br /><b>ME:</b> That was supposed to be a request for you to tell me to get up off my duff and go do something useful instead of being a profligate layabout.<br /><b>K:</b> Oh. Go do something useful. And bring your duff over here so I can snuggle it.<br /><b>ME:</b> I am not sure that will help with the whole "profligate layabout" issue.<br /><b>K:</b> I will be the judge of that. <3</blockquote>
After this exchange, I cut up the chicken, marinaded it, and wrote out some baking instructions. Then, I ate a Klondike bar (double chocolate, if you are curious) and read my book until I took my <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/06/biphasic-sleep-day-two.html">nap</a>.<br />
<br />
After my nap, I had plenty of time to work on job applications to ward off any further profligate layabout tendencies that might have been lurking about. I consider the exchange a success.jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-83991847197570407862012-07-22T00:18:00.001-04:002012-07-22T00:18:11.841-04:00Can I Dress For the Job I Want?<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some links I've found while trying to figure out if <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/06/why-i-wont-shave-my-hands.html">my appearance is preventing me from getting a job</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://corporette.com/2010/07/27/a-complete-wardrobe-revamp/">This post</a> suggests setting aside at least $1000 to build a professional wardrobe from scratch. I'm grateful that there are posts out there that give fashion-clueless folks like me hints about how to go about presenting a professional appearance.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Meanwhile, <a href="http://freethoughtblogs.com/greta/2012/07/13/fashion-friday-menswear-and-some-thoughts-about-gender-roles/">this post</a> neatly sums up a large part of my frustration when it says, "<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 24px; text-align: left;">Women routinely have to spend more money, and more time, to make ourselves visually presentable and fit society’s basic expectations of grooming… and that’s more true the higher up you get in status and income." </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 24px; text-align: left;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 24px; text-align: left;">I want to play by the rules, but I haven't yet worked out how I can feasibly do so. Sometimes, it seems like the prerequisite to getting a job that pays money is to already have money.</span></span>jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-47870256485931997962012-07-17T07:30:00.000-04:002012-07-17T07:30:03.345-04:00Health, Identity, and AdulthoodI find myself posting <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/search/label/recipe">recipes</a> for stuff I've cooked. I also post regularly about my thoughts on <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/search/label/sleep">sleep</a>, as <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/search/label/sleep">I'm trying out</a> <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/07/biphasic-sleep-day-25.html">biphasic</a> <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/07/biphasic-sleep-day-29.html">sleep</a>. I do this in part because I hope it's interesting or helpful, but under that, I do these things because I'm trying to exert control over my own life.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
See, I can't force employers to post job openings, interview me, or give me a job. I can't lower the cost of living so that I can support a family on less money. I can't buy much of anything, as I'm hoarding the money I have so that I can afford to move to the location of job.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
However, I can still try to create value. I can cook, I can <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/search/label/crafts">craft</a>, I can clean, and I can write*. I can work to improve myself by exercising and eating better. I can hack my sleep schedule so that I have time to do all of these things and still work on applying for jobs.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Perhaps it's all a carefully-constructed method of distracting myself from <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/06/anger-and-opportunity-to-earn-things.html">feeling worthless</a> because no one has found me worth paying (yet).** If so, it's a relatively productive one. I have plenty of <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/07/emotional-sleeping-vs-emotional-eating.html">unhealthy coping mechanisms</a> for this, so encouraging the healthy ones definitely appeals to me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I think it's also part of my attempt to build an adult identity for myself, though. Now that I have more opportunity to make my own decisions about how I will live my life as an adult, I want to put some conscious thought into what I want to do with my life, in terms of both my career and personal life.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Over the past few weeks, I've been asking myself questions like these:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li><b>Am I willing to reduce my consumption of certain foods and increase my activity level to lose weight?</b><br />(yes, but I'm not giving up cheese or dessert entirely, no matter what the literature says about dairy and sugar. I'd rather exercise more than feel hungry, but staying sedentary is not an option: I want children, and I need to be fit before I can have them.)</li>
<li><b>Am I willing to relocate to get a job? How far?</b><br />(yes, but I want to be able to get home for Christmas, and it needs to be close enough to civilization so that K can find a job, too)</li>
<li><b>What do I like to do in my spare time?</b><br />(it took me a while to remember that, hey, I actually really do still like crafting! because I had no free time during college: I wanted to learn as much as I could because I'd already paid outrageous sums. It feels really good to create things again.)</li>
</ul>
<div>
So, even if some of the things I do and write about don't relate to becoming an adult on the surface, I'm still in the process of building my identity, and the new activities are part of the new identity.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm sure it will all change again soon enough.</div>
<div>
_______</div>
<div>
*An aside: it's a little bit irritating how this list contains skills that can be considered "women's work" (except, possibly, for the writing). When I was young, no one taught me how to fix cars or program computers or build things with power tools. Instead, my parents shipped me off to innumerable summer camps where I did lots of crafts, most usually in a class full of girls. I had fun, but did not learn much in the way of marketable skills.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
**To me, this seems like a fair metric. When something is valuable, you pay for it in one way or another. No one seems to want to pay me enough money for me to survive (yet), so I am not (yet) worth much to anyone other than my parents.</div>jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-28331964917559842012012-07-16T07:30:00.000-04:002012-07-16T07:30:00.214-04:00Emotional Sleeping vs. Emotional Eating<span style="background-color: white;">I have a couple of unhealthy coping mechanisms. For example, I'm prone to emotional eating (along with a lot of people). Similarly, when I feel upset and don't have a lot to do, I sleep for hours. I don't know how common this is: people don't talk about their sleep patterns the same way they talk about their diets.</span><br />
<br />
According to<a href="http://www.cdc.gov/features/sleep/"> the CDC</a>, adults need seven to nine hours of sleep. It goes on to provide troubleshooting for falling asleep, but never challenges the assumption that the sleep should happen in a single block at night. (Woe to the poor souls doing third-shift work, apparently.) There's no discussion of what sleep patterns work better, just adherence to "normal" sleep and advice for insomnia.<br />
<br />
Perhaps this stems from a lack of knowledge about sleep. We know that light, stimulants, and physical exertion can play roles, but the roles these things play vary wildly from person to person. There are no sleep hygiene plans, no discussion about what sleep components best support healthy sleep, and no discussions about what sleep styles work for us. We don't even really know why we sleep-- we just know that it's miserable to go without it.<br />
<br />
We know lots of things about the inputs to the nutrition process: macronutrients, fiber, vitamins and minerals, level of processing, and so forth. We know that a weight loss program should involve burning more calories than consumed and, similarly, that a weight gain program involves consuming more calories than burned. We know that some foods feel more "filling" than others.<br />
<br />
Everyone has an opinion to share about food. For example, my brother will talk for hours about the benefits of his diet, and I tease him mercilessly about how various foods I find particularly delicious will, in his words, "kill him".* In another case, my mother got into a heated argument with a woman at a church dinner about the merits of vegan diets and the acceptability of honey. Still, with religion, sex, and politics off the table and so much social activity centered around mealtimes, food commonly enters discussions.<br />
<br />
I've worked in two predominately-female workplaces, a preschool for developmentally-challenged three- and four-year-olds and a customer service department in a large company. In these settings, food played an even larger role in discussion. We traded recipes and diet tips regularly. In some ways, I find it irksome that I regularly trade the conversations I'd like to have about rapid prototyping and identity security for bland ones about buffalo chicken wing dip and pepper plants, but mostly, I like talking about food. It provides a platform of commonality: I, too, cook and care about nutrition. Plus, as the experts can't agree on a set of recommendations, there's room for endless discussion: if at a loss for conversation, I can almost always safely discuss nutrition.<br />
<br />
Maybe this leads us, as a society, to have a healthy dialogue about food. Whether or not we actually follow any healthy eating guidelines at all, we have a good idea of what constitutes health foods, and we usually respect other people's food choices.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, we don't have a very good dialogue about sleep. Even when sleeping monophasically, friends and family would interrupt my sleep rhythm-- "it's past my bedtime" rarely excuses me from a social obligation. Work and sleep schedules don't take sleep schedules into account: if you have to wake up early to get to a meeting or work late to finish a project, no one cares that it may cause sleep deprivation. It's often acceptable to bring a small snack, but it's almost never acceptable to bring a pillow and grab a quick nap.<br />
<br />
Perhaps this further impedes discussion of how to handle emotional sleeping: sleeping that's unhealthy. If we can't discuss healthy sleep, how can we distinguish it from unhealthy sleep? In particular, i<span style="background-color: white;">f we consider sleep some sort of optional extra that only the lazy indulge in, how can we keep ourselves healthy and productive?</span><br />
______<br />
*I consider poking fun at my younger sibling my sworn duty as an older sibling.jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-53577749695477001932012-07-15T14:10:00.002-04:002012-07-15T14:21:48.677-04:00Spinach SpongeMost store-bought sliced bread doesn't do a lot for me. I can't eat it alone: the texture leaves me wishing I had something to chew, the flavor bores me, and it tends to include sugars I would rather get from eating fresh, whole fruit. <span style="background-color: white;">I still eat it, primarily as a vehicle for other food, but I wanted to improve this solution.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">I started looking up homemade bread recipes with the idea that I could make a bread over the weekend and use it during the week. I decided to add spinach as well because I'm trying to <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/07/i-dont-like-microwaved-spinach.html">add more vegetables</a> to my diet.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
I came up with something that hits most of the nutrition goals, some of the flavor goals, and completely lacks visual appeal. <span style="background-color: white;">I started with </span><a href="http://habee.hubpages.com/hub/Very-Low-Carb-Bread" style="background-color: white;">this recipe</a><span style="background-color: white;"> for low-carb bread and made some modifications.</span><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>1 cup flax seed meal</li>
<li>1 cup oatmeal flour</li>
<li>1 tablespoon baking powder</li>
<li>1/2 teaspoon baking soda</li>
<li>1/2 cup water</li>
<li>1/3 cup oil</li>
<li>3/4 cups egg whites</li>
<li>1 whole egg</li>
<li>1 10-ounce package of frozen spinach, thawed and drained</li>
<li>Spices to taste. I used, per the suggestion, onion powder, basil, and rosemary. I also used some salt.</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZQFNcUYIEy4NRmWtpsNFoH_IboJ-wLvGk3N9_ibF1exItb6w6UgP5Uqwd5mlNNrusQMfiLJ1hZPGVxxHDRuZwj3qfBvrcGdEJhnTQfDWBhD3v_ubEpUof9_R5HIBaDT9UbGqsPb_lls/s1600/IMAG0428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="bowl full of ingredients and spinach" border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZQFNcUYIEy4NRmWtpsNFoH_IboJ-wLvGk3N9_ibF1exItb6w6UgP5Uqwd5mlNNrusQMfiLJ1hZPGVxxHDRuZwj3qfBvrcGdEJhnTQfDWBhD3v_ubEpUof9_R5HIBaDT9UbGqsPb_lls/s320/IMAG0428.jpg" title="" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mixing in the spinach.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
I mixed the dry ingredients together, followed by the wet ingredients, a bit a a time. Then, I mixed in the spinach and baked at 350°F for 25 minutes in a greased 9x<span style="background-color: white;">13 pan. It made 12 servings.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lHEQQIx1AlgQPVApcERiXtMB67nmVSM6vcAGzzqp7uhlLv19kxiAelaZ3hRTL0i_4X1F2DSIkX9DfmgENYpWyeTC4G2TZHH0on36ydkxzfA1nefkUmpme-icfpovw_4gibk_ppAd5h4/s1600/IMAG0430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="spinach sponge in 9x13 pan" border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lHEQQIx1AlgQPVApcERiXtMB67nmVSM6vcAGzzqp7uhlLv19kxiAelaZ3hRTL0i_4X1F2DSIkX9DfmgENYpWyeTC4G2TZHH0on36ydkxzfA1nefkUmpme-icfpovw_4gibk_ppAd5h4/s320/IMAG0430.jpg" title="It tastes fine, even if it looks like a moldy sponge." width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When I brought one in to work, a co-worker wanted to know why I was eating a sponge.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white;"></span></div>
<div>
You can pick up and eat the squares like a brownie, but they aren't stiff enough to use as a bread. The texture makes it clear that it contains whole grains and spinach, and it tastes overwhelmingly of rosemary (oops). Still, they're easy to transport and they contain a nice balance of healthy fats, complex carbohydrates, and protein. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I definitely like the concept, but they could use some improvement. <span style="background-color: white;">I meant to put in garlic, but I forgot, and I think it would have improved the flavor. I put in salt, and I shouldn't have: they came out a little too salty. Serves me right for not researching the flavor of flax seed meal better, I suppose. I'd also like to try replacing the water with crushed tomatoes or tomato paste to create a lasagna-inspired flavor.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white;">For a variation that might adhere better to the original purpose, I might cut the baking powder in half and divide the batter between two 9x13 pans to try for a more cracker-like baked good.</span></div>jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-55494752567098900712012-07-13T00:16:00.001-04:002012-07-13T00:16:52.518-04:00Biphasic Sleep: Day 29Just a quick update after doing some thinking about sleep today.<br />
<br />
<div>
<ol>
<li><b>Staying up until 3:00AM on a work night still feels like irresponsible behavior.</b><br /><br />Even when I know I'll be able to get up on time and function at work with my 3:00 bedtime, around midnight, I start looking at the clock and thinking: <i>I should start heading to bed soon</i>. Of course, when I think that, I remember that I actually have another two or three hours until I need to start thinking about heading to bed, so I go and do things I want or need to do with the faint feeling I'm breaking the rules.<br /><br />Actually, I may be breaking the rules, if one considers the usual sleep dictates part of the rules. If so, the rules have stopped making sense for me, and I don't mind breaking them (as I'm not hurting anyone, either).<br /></li>
<li><b>Many monophasic sleepers experience rough nights of sleep, too.</b><br /><br />Having a rough morning once in a while doesn't mean that my biphasic sleep experiment has failed, it just means that I had trouble sleeping or that an unexpected interruption has interfered with my sleep. For example, yesterday, I needed to get up at 6:00 to go to an event starting at 7:00*, so I moved my nap half an hour earlier. I had a terrible time staying asleep because I was excited about the event and nervous about waking up on time. As I get more and more adapted to the routine,<br /><br />As another example of sleep impacts that cross sleep-pattern lines, K was ready to blame his persistent sleepiness on the biphasic sleep-- until he realized that his sleepiness correlated with the days he took allergy medicine! He stopped taking it and felt better the next day.<br /></li>
<li><b>I don't know what I would do without the extra two hours in my day anymore.</b><br /><br />I feel like I'm getting so much more done. In part, this stems from having a part-time job with regular hours, but when I get home, I have time for job hunting, blogging, cooking experimental recipes, hanging out with friends online, playing video games, working on projects and exercising, and I don't have to resort to strict time management strategies to do it. I just have to go to bed when I've scheduled my naps.<br /><br />I attribute part of this sensation of suddenly having time to the added structure as well as the extra hours. Sleeping monphasically, <span style="background-color: white;">I had an energy lull around the time I made into nap time, so I "lost" a block of time I never found particularly productive and traded it for time slots that I'm finding very useful. In particular, the midnight-to-three pre-sleep period works well for writing and cooking, and I can take a walk with my mom or bicycle to the store as soon as I wake up at 6:30PM, activities that work well for me during those time periods.<br /><br />I don't think I could cram all the stuff I've been doing for the past week into a monophasic sleep schedule.</span></li>
</ol>
<div>
I gave a return to monophasic sleeping some thought today, but I think that even on a day where I feel sleepier, I wouldn't trade the extra productivity for a reduction in (a) weirdness and (b) occasional sleepy days. After all, monophasic sleepers have sleepy days, too.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
______</div>
<div>
*Yes, I know I'm still probably in an adjustment phase, but we picked biphasic sleep because it's resilient to this kind of thing. I guess I'm a bad example of good adjustment technique, but if I end up at a point where I never feel sleepy, it will reflect well on the sleep schedule as a whole.</div>jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-52100688218091643062012-07-12T07:30:00.000-04:002012-07-12T07:30:04.903-04:00The Purpose of AffirmationsAbout a month ago, I read an article about how written affirmations can help you achieve your fitness goals. I figured, hey, it can't hurt, right? So I took five minutes and scribbled some things down, stuff like "I weigh 150 pounds" and "I have the energy to accomplish everything I want to do every day".<br />
<br />
I taped it to the wall, so I glance at it every day. Theoretically, it works best if you recite them out loud to yourself in the mirror, but that feels too hokey to me. I haven't gained any weight since (though the scale fluctuates too much for me to positively state that I've lost weight. The <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/07/proof-of-partner-entering-adulthood.html">wedding road trip</a> didn't help, either), so I know my no-harm judgement was correct.<br />
<br />
Well, I figured out how to use them properly when I walked into a grocery store hungry after a Zumba class. Grocery shopping while hungry never works out well, and the first temptation appeared as soon as I walked through the door.<br />
<br />
"Buy one box of chocolate chip cookies, get two free!" said a sign next to a display. For this particular brand, two cookies are 140 calories, and there are approximately 14 servings per box. That adds up to 1,960 calories per box, which would be less of a problem if it weren't so easy to accidentally eat all the cookies once you open the box. You can eat a cookie in about a bite and a half, so they just kind of disappear. They're soft, yummy, and the only store-bought cookie I want to eat-- and I shouldn't eat them, either.<br />
<br />
"I weigh 150 pounds," I told the display. "I can do a split on both sides. I have lots of energy."<br />
<br />
The display looked at me, disbelieving: I weigh quite a bit more than 150 pounds at the moment.<br />
<br />
"I weigh 150 pounds," I told the display again, more emphatically. Then, I walked away from the cookies and purchased egg whites, spinach, and unsweetened cocoa powder, all on my list.* I did not purchase any cookies, chips, or fish-shaped crackers.<br />
<br />
I guess the affirmations work-- for some things-- after all.<br />
<br />
________<br />
*After which<span style="background-color: white;"> I went home and ate a healthy dinner, thereby preventing further hunger-inspired conversations with inanimate objects, at least for the foreseeable future.</span>jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-10646003870552089682012-07-11T16:46:00.002-04:002012-07-11T16:46:53.474-04:00Unemployed, Two Months Out of School<i>Note: The dialogue in this post is not verbatim. For one thing, my memory isn't word-perfect. For another, it would delight me if people actually read this, and I like to think that my edited version of the conversation, which catches the key points, entertains better than a transcript version.</i><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">That could have gone better.</span><br />
<br />
Today, I had my first interview since I graduated. I took a few weeks off from job-hunting after graduation, as I was in the middle of travel and a move, and I had some difficulty ensuring that my body, a reliable method of real-time communication, and my computer would all be in the same place at a scheduled time. <span style="background-color: white;">Once I finished moving and could guarantee my presence at a telephone or in-person interview, I started applying again. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><i>Finally</i>, I thought,<i> today marks the beginning of the next phase of my job search.</i> I felt pretty optimistic right up until the phone rang. Then, the nerves hit.</span><br />
<br />
First, the interviewer expressed surprise when I clarified that my experience has been all part-time or short-term and that my title when I work at the preschool is "Teacher's Aide", not "Teacher". I had thought that the dates on my resume made it clear that the work experience I've gained has been during periods of higher education.<br />
<br />
"You've graduated now, right? What have you been doing since?"<br />
<br />
"<span style="background-color: white;">Mostly, I've been looking for a job," I said. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">"Is that it?" she asked.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">"I'm also back working part-time and short-term at the preschool to keep myself busy while staying able to focus on my career development."</span><br />
<br />
"How are you finding the job market?" the interviewer asked.<br />
<br />
"It's a little bit rough," I told her, "but I was getting a pretty good response during my finals week, even though there was a lull in June."<br />
<br />
When asked which engineering area I'd studied, I explained a little bit more about the interdisciplinary nature of my degree, which <i>always</i> make me feel awkward, like the employer thinks I've misrepresented myself. I don't claim to be an engineer, I claim to have an interdisciplinary degree that includes the core engineering curriculum.<br />
<br />
After about ten minutes on the phone, the interviewer explained that this concluded the initial phone screening, thanked me for my time, and told me I should hear about next steps in a week or so. I smiled, said good-bye, and hung up with the distinct impression that she thought I had misrepresented myself on my resume and wondering what, other than looking for jobs, I was supposed to have been doing since my graduation (which was barely two months ago).<br />
<br />
I have been trying very hard to do <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/06/anger-and-opportunity-to-earn-things.html">All The Right Things</a> with my transition to a role in adult society. (While college is part of the transition, it definitely doesn't count as part of adult society.) In this particular instance, I have spent time in crafting a resume that paints my experiences in the best possible light while still presenting a factually accurate picture of my talents. I don't think my resume overstates my accomplishments: in school, I have worked hard and achieved well; in the workplace, I have done good work and made at least some impact in at least three of the four places I've worked*.<br />
<br />
K has pointed out that I may be reading too much into the interview because I'm nervous and because the job market is so frightening, and I hope he's right. However, his sensible response does not dispel my low-level urge to break down and beg interviewers to just tell me what more they want me to do before they hire me so that I can go out and do it. It's hard for me to stay reasonable in an environment where I know people will consider me lazier and more inadequate the longer I am unemployed or underemployed.<br />
<br />
Still, assuming that I do hear back when expected, I should know in about a week if my fears are unfounded. Until then, I'm going to do my best put the worry away and keep looking.<br />
________<br />
*I tried to make an impact at the minimum-wage retail job, too, but my opportunities to do so there were limited.jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-772958680893571962.post-49918175989148397862012-07-10T07:30:00.000-04:002012-07-15T14:11:49.486-04:00Chocolate Peanut Butter Mug CakeI <a href="http://jpnadia.blogspot.com/2012/06/muffins-cupcakes-in-disguise.html">want cake</a> more often than I should eat cake. So, when a blog with various <a href="http://lacreativitedelafille.blogspot.com/search/label/single%20serving">single-serving mug cake recipes</a> popped up <a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/216524694555311495/">on Pinterest</a>, I got really excited. <i>Brilliant!</i> I thought. <i>I can make a small single-serve cake, and I won't eat "accidental" second helpings or let the leftovers go bad!</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
Then, I entered some of the recipes into a calorie calculator. One serving of any of a couple varieties of mug cake, it turns out, totals on the order of 800 calories. (Oof.) Worse, the bulk of the ingredients were low-nutrition or high-calorie (or both): processed flour, granulated sugar, oil, peanut butter, and so forth. I decided that there had to be a better way, and so I teamed up with my brother* to create a less-awful recipe.<br />
<br />
I started with <a href="http://www.yummly.com/recipe/5-Minute-Nutella-Mug-Cake-Gourmand">this recipe for Nutella mug cake</a> and made some modifications to the ingredients, using<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>4 tablespoons raw oatmeal, blenderized until similar to flour</li>
<li>1 cup applesauce to replace most of the sugar and some of the oil</li>
<li>1 tablespoon oil</li>
<li>1 egg</li>
<li>3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder</li>
<li>3 tablespoons chocolate peanut butter**</li>
<li>1/4 teaspoon baking powder</li>
</ul>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFn7ETg7tAgE5te4PiKoun3Z-0sRsTklEDyhSbovZzb-Jlk4X5WGESavift5EJeIUkwiGaYWQTUDF0y0Tm6Mo9IYXcLWnWU913-p811B3zP-uhlIjsDna_7VWR2p_GOiD0YRg1fRuIHvQ/s1600/chocolatePeanutButterMugCake.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="the steps I took to make the cakes" border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFn7ETg7tAgE5te4PiKoun3Z-0sRsTklEDyhSbovZzb-Jlk4X5WGESavift5EJeIUkwiGaYWQTUDF0y0Tm6Mo9IYXcLWnWU913-p811B3zP-uhlIjsDna_7VWR2p_GOiD0YRg1fRuIHvQ/s640/chocolatePeanutButterMugCake.png" title="Sorry about the blurriness of some of the photos. If I keep doing this, I should probably quit using my phone and go get an actual camera." width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The eating is the best part.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I mixed everything up per the directions and divided the recipe between two mugs, which I had Ard spritz with cooking spray while I was measuring. I popped them one at a time into the microwave, starting with a minute with the intention of adding time in thirty-second increments if needed. My microwave didn't need the extra time, though, so they came out of the microwave gratifyingly quickly.<br />
<br />
The texture came out well but I found the flavor lacking a bit: they were surprisingly bland. The peanut butter taste got lost under the chocolate taste, and it wasn't very sweet at all (kind of like dark chocolate, though, so this wasn't a huge problem). <span style="background-color: white;">Ard's immediate solution involved slathering his with peanut butter, as his nutrition plan doesn't involve a reduction in calories. As my nutrition plan <i>does</i> involve a reduction in calories (at least until I reach a healthier weight), I think there should be a better way.</span><br />
<br />
Ard and I brainstormed some solutions while we ate our cakes.<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>Use sweeter mashed banana instead of less-sweet applesauce.</li>
<li>Replace the rest of the oil with chocolate peanut butter.</li>
<li>Add a little bit of extra salt, as the chocolate peanut butter apparently contains a sixth of the sodium of the non-chocolate variety of peanut butter we have.</li>
</ol>
<div>
Does anyone have any other suggestions for improvement?</div>
<br />
__________<br />
*Ard had the very important job of eating the other mug cake, as I decided that instead of halving the recipe and needing to find weird measuring spoons, I'd just change the spec from "serves one" to "serves two".<br />
**The first ingredient in Nutella (and its clones) is sugar. The chocolate peanut butter I picked has "peanuts" as its first ingredient and omits hydrogenated oil and high fructose corn syrup.jpnadiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16339946137936190600noreply@blogger.com0