Or Maybe Not

When leaving a place of employment, subtlety and decorum are your keys to a successful transition. On your last day of work be friendly, kind, and unassuming in your presence. A successful departure from one job will lead to a fruitful beginning at the next. A graceful, quiet last day is the mark of a true professional.

The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

As Nina Simone so memorably sang,

It's a new dawn.
It's a new day.
It's a new life... for me.
And I'm feeling good.

Well, I'm actually feeling pretty tired. But this is the first day of the rest of my life, so what do you expect?

I worked my last day of my job yesterday. My high profile, high stress job that was full of constant human interaction and rewards that most people can only dream of in their professions. My job that I mostly enjoyed. My job that was how I was defined by many, maybe even how I partly defined myself.(?)

Gone.

Done.

Over.

I am lucky to say in 2009 that I left my job by choice. (Lucky, stupid - I have trouble with my adjectives at times.) I am very lucky to say that I have other work lined up that will pay the bills in the short and long terms. I am working in law enforcement now. I will be working in a law office eventually. I am lucky.

But Nina Simone neglected to mention that the new dawn of the new day in a new life feels mostly quiet and foreign.

And messy. My former office held 10 boxes of books, 5 large boxes of miscellany, 2 pieces of furniture that were mine, a queen sized quilt, roughly 2 dozen pieces of art, and hundreds of files in paper and e forms. Then there was the wardrobe full of work clothes. Those are neither done, nor gone, nor over. They are sitting in my living room. And my car. And a friend's garage.

I have spent the past two months NOT posting to this blog as I decided what to do with it after I left the job that made me take up blogging in the first place. In a sense, it has been sitting in the middle of my living room getting tripped over, too.

If I end the life of this blog, it will be after the living room is clean. Since that will be awhile, and anyone in their right mind would choose cleaning a website over cleaning their real house, I did some redecorating around here. If only to prove to myself that I can still locate my right mind.

Candlelight Vigil this Thursday

There will be a candlelight vigil in reponse to the murder of Dr. George Tiller of Kansas, an advocate of women's health, who was slain in his church this past Sunday.

The peaceful vigil will begin at 7 PM on Thursday June 4th in the courtyard of First Unitarian Universalist Church of Richmond. The vigil is being led by Planned Parenthood of Richmond with participation from other groups and individuals, including Rev. Miles of First UU.

This is a peaceful gathering, but security will be provided for the peace of mind of attendees.

Some Long Awaited Photos

I know. I owe you some photos. I often promise photos on Auspicious Jots and don't deliver for months. Obviously I have not worked out a system of ease with my digital camera. And I'd feel worse about it if I didn't know that 80% of all digital camera users feel the same way. (Of course, I made that percentage up.)

First up - the before and after shots of Tyler the Sexton's haircut. In review: Tyler needed to be shorn and didn't want to spend the moolah. He came to the kitchen one night, which is not a clever salon name. He came to my kitchen and I cut his hair.

BEFORE: note the tangles, the disarray, and mocking glare of the small pajama clad child.



AFTER: See the carefree happiness in the sexton's eyes. See the Superman curl at his brow. See whatever you want, the haircut lasted less than 48 hours. Seems that Tyler suffers from PSLD: post-stylist let-down. This is a condition in which your hair looks great in the salon (or kitchen) and then you can't figure out how to recreate the magic. This occurs in 88% of all women (made it up - it's the year I started dating my husband). Percentages for men: unavailable. But Tyler got the ole' PSLD bad and shaved his head which is why no one saw my handiwork.

And speaking of no one seeing my handiwork...

For Easter I made matching clothes for my family. My daughter had pants. Shorts for the son. Hubbie had a snappy bowtie and I got a skirt. You can see none of these items in the one photo of the four of us and my husband's hat got smushed giving him a Yosemite Sam air that says many things, but not Easter.

In unrelated news, that purse was mistaken by a golfer in Williamsburg for being real grass. At first I thought he was a ding dong, but then I thought - ART! Or Ahhhhhht as "Cute with Chris" genius Chris Leavins likes to say. Nothing says going green like a living purse. 73% of Jots readers agree.

Finally, I had a great photo of my dad and his brothers from 1961. It relates to today's sermon. It was the reason I decided to blog at 7 AM on a Sunday when I have to preach in two hours.

I deleted it somehow while typing. Do you ever feel like the dude behind the family at the Easter parade? I do right now. And you thought I'd lost my Luddite ways...

The Lizard Eater visit

Prelude: Two bloggers arrange a 5 day visit after a couple of years of e-communication. They have never met. They have never spoken. Most say they are out of their minds. They retort - "Yeah, and?"

Enter Lizard Eater: A cute as a bug Texan with impossibly long, pretty hair and the pariah of her high school reunion because she looks so young. She comes bearing gifts - LOTS of them. Toys for children, shirt for hubby, funny car hats for me, food, and something that looked like a weapon from World of Warcraft (yeah right, as if I would know) but which benignly mixed hot chocolate.

Boring Plot Twist: Of course we didn't hate each other. Didn't dislike each other. Only found more things in common. She does have this freaky fruit aversion, but even that didn't keep us apart. More fruit for me.

Divine Intervention: We had the most beautiful weather while she was here. Cool, breezy, beautiful cloud patterns with plenty of sunshine. Have you ever seen a Texan weep for joy in May? Put them in 70 degree weather and hand them a free beer.

How to win me over for life:
Blurt out that I look like UU Barbie. (God bless that sweet, blind woman!)
Be discreet in your blog posts about my napping habit. (Reclining at both outdoor music venues, fell asleep in the car, on the sofa, in the recliner, in my daughter's bed.)
Wait until the end of the visit and then with diplomacy gently pronounce, "Your bout with viral meningitis is definitely nearing completion. You make SO MUCH MORE SENSE now than you did when I arrived!" (It sounds sweet when she says it.)

The Cupcakes: She's known for her cupcakes. Big deal these cupcakes are. She doesn't brag, but she does admit that people place orders for them by the dozens. It was the lack of bravado that made me beg/cajole for her to bake cupcakes on Friday. I am not overstating it one bit when I say: those were the best cupcakes I have EVER had in my ENTIRE life. (And, yes, my NYC friends, they are better than Magnolia.) We chose chocolate with chocolate icing. Absol-flippin-magni-stupendo-licious. She claims the caramel ones are better. I'm a bit of a Puritan and not sure people are allowed to be that happy, so I am sticking with choco choco delight. This was the point in the visit when the children started calling her mama and the husband tried to steal her return ticket home.

Ordain her now: I introduced this gal to the full breadth of my "eclectic" friends, neighbors, family, and congregation. With ease she bantered with the musicians. She talked sex education with a retired priest and his wife. She entertained my children, charmed my parents, helped my husband out when I was on my latest nap. She laughed at my best friends' jokes. (Not funny ones either.)She fell in love with our minister emeritus only moments after I said, "Liz, you are going to fall in love with our minister emeritus." AND she beautifully read the poetry of Lynda Hull and Mark Doty at the evening service. She's a Texan with theatre experience, four children, and a lifelong UU. Seminary education ain't got nothin' on that.

Boring Plot Twist 2: She will tell you that I was a great hostess. She lies. I did not make a single meal while she was visiting. Luckily, several meals came in from my mother and the church care committee. And it turns out that cupcakes can be a full meal.

God's work got done, too: We are religion geeks, after all. We talked theology, religious education, polity, ethics and more; all with my feet propped up on the couch and her in the recliner. That is the only civilized way to do something that geeky. We also compared music libraries of apocryphal holy music. Her best contribution: "Jesus loves me, but he can't stand you" by the Austin Lounge Lizards (I think.) My best contribution: "Whiskey or God" by the Texan Dale Watson.

Closing Credits: We boo hooed at the airport. I cried all the way home. I then took another nap and slept ten hours. We have plans for Houston in the Fall or maybe meeting in Mississippi. There's always New York. And the children want her back where she belongs - in the guest room - as soon as possible.

Photos to follow as soon as I can find the camera. And the thing to plug into the computer. And get the internet to stay up. This could be awhile. Check out her blog "The Journey" while you wait. I've paid her good money to say nice things about me.