So, as I was driving in this morning, I was listening to my new favorite song, "Sound of Madness" by Shinedown. It's basically a cry of frustration from the singer to presumably a romantic interest who blames all of her problems on her bipolar disorder, but refuses to get seek help. He confirms that he, too, suffers from mental illness, but he's chosen to deal with it.
One of the reasons I'm so fond of this song is because I can relate -- oddly enough, both personally and professionally. My work these days is primarily around mental disorders and the treatments, and one of the biggest issues is that many people either won't take the drugs at all or stop taking them. From a personal perspective, I have friends, family and romantic attachments who have refused or ceased treatment as well. The results have not been pretty. We're talking divorces, estrangements, hospitalization, substance abuse, suicide attempts and unfortunately, completion.
I've read a ton of research and I understand the issues -- the side effects, the complications and the not-feeling-like-yourself, among others. But what I don't understand is the complete giving up. Believe me, I'm not unsympathetic. I have more than my share of issues and I've been down in that hole more than a couple of times. But when I see that it's hurting other people in my life, it's time to do something.
I know that the drugs are not for everyone. But there are other options -- exercise, yoga, counseling, diet changes, hypnosis and herbal treatments, just to name a few. And yes, I know that mental illness severely inhibits initiative and motivation. But to not even try? When someone offers to help? When you can see that it's destroying relationships?
I'm not sure where I'm going with this except venting my frustration at people who won't get help and let it ruin their lives and those of others. Shinedown guy, I hear you and I'm giving you a virtual high five for choosing to fight rather than spending eternity in that pit of dispair.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
So while I'm trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up, I thought I'd share a lighter topic. A few months back, I stumbled on to a blog entry called "Deconstructing Jonny Quest". It was about the funniest thing I've read in a long time -- I remember LOVING that show as a child. For those of you who aren't familiar with it, Jonny Quest was a Saturday morning cartoon about Jonny, his scientist/adventurer dad, their bodyguard (???) Race Bannon, an Indian kid named Hadji that they presumably adopted and a pug named Bandit. Each week, they would fly around the world fighting evil, in the form of mummies, aliens, mechanical spiders, ghost pirates, etc. If this sounds even remotely like a normal cartoon, do a search on YouTube for the credits.
But that got me to thinking about the other bizarre show concepts that I watched as a child. I realize I was born in the 60s, but there must have been a lot of drugs circulating around the television studios during those days! Here's some of the ones I remember:
The Banana Splits: This was sort of a live-action variety show for kids, I guess. The Banana Splits were a band that hosted the show, made up of (and I'm not kidding!) a gorilla, an elephant, a dog and a lion. They played rock music, told bad jokes and introduced a series of cartoons and live action shows, such as Danger Island (with cannibals), the Three Musketeers, Arabian Nights and Gulliver's Travels. The opening credits alone could make you think you were hallucinating.
HR Puf'n'Stuf: There's a reason this show got a head shop named after it -- this is easily the most bizarre one of the bunch. The premise is that a British kid has a magic flute that can talk and is being pursued by a witch (aptly named WitchyPoo) who desperately wants the flute for something diabolical. The only safety he can find is under the protection of a dragon/sheriff named HR Puf'n'stuf who lives on an island with furniture and other usually inaminate objects that have come to life. Would you believe this came from the same people who brought you the Banana Splits? And yes, it's live action, too.
The Perils of Penelope Pitstop: This is the stereotypical damsel-in-distress show. Penelope is a race car driver who can outdrive anyone in the Fast & the Furious franchise, but apparently is too oblivious to notice death traps set by her uncle. You see, Penelope is an heiress and the next in line for her fortune is her uncle, so naturally, he tries to kill her every episode. And despite the fact that she can operate very sophisticated vehicles at high speeds, she always ends up in some time-delayed execution. So tied to the train tracks, suspended from a cliff with a candle under the rope, that type of thing. Fortunately, she has a posse of golden-hearted mobsters who always seem to know when she's in trouble and pile into their PT Cruiser to come rescue her.
I haven't tried re-watching any of these after a horrible experience watching the old Speed Racer cartoon. (I guess as a child, I didn't notice that the characters don't move at all naturally and that the audio doesn't sync up to their mouths, but as an adult, it was pretty annoying.) I want to remember them as insanely goofy magical experiences that shaped me today. Or account for what's wrong with me. ;)
But that got me to thinking about the other bizarre show concepts that I watched as a child. I realize I was born in the 60s, but there must have been a lot of drugs circulating around the television studios during those days! Here's some of the ones I remember:
The Banana Splits: This was sort of a live-action variety show for kids, I guess. The Banana Splits were a band that hosted the show, made up of (and I'm not kidding!) a gorilla, an elephant, a dog and a lion. They played rock music, told bad jokes and introduced a series of cartoons and live action shows, such as Danger Island (with cannibals), the Three Musketeers, Arabian Nights and Gulliver's Travels. The opening credits alone could make you think you were hallucinating.
HR Puf'n'Stuf: There's a reason this show got a head shop named after it -- this is easily the most bizarre one of the bunch. The premise is that a British kid has a magic flute that can talk and is being pursued by a witch (aptly named WitchyPoo) who desperately wants the flute for something diabolical. The only safety he can find is under the protection of a dragon/sheriff named HR Puf'n'stuf who lives on an island with furniture and other usually inaminate objects that have come to life. Would you believe this came from the same people who brought you the Banana Splits? And yes, it's live action, too.
The Perils of Penelope Pitstop: This is the stereotypical damsel-in-distress show. Penelope is a race car driver who can outdrive anyone in the Fast & the Furious franchise, but apparently is too oblivious to notice death traps set by her uncle. You see, Penelope is an heiress and the next in line for her fortune is her uncle, so naturally, he tries to kill her every episode. And despite the fact that she can operate very sophisticated vehicles at high speeds, she always ends up in some time-delayed execution. So tied to the train tracks, suspended from a cliff with a candle under the rope, that type of thing. Fortunately, she has a posse of golden-hearted mobsters who always seem to know when she's in trouble and pile into their PT Cruiser to come rescue her.
I haven't tried re-watching any of these after a horrible experience watching the old Speed Racer cartoon. (I guess as a child, I didn't notice that the characters don't move at all naturally and that the audio doesn't sync up to their mouths, but as an adult, it was pretty annoying.) I want to remember them as insanely goofy magical experiences that shaped me today. Or account for what's wrong with me. ;)
Monday, August 3, 2009
A Framework of Fail
So I've alluded to the fact that I'm somewhat less enamored of my job than I have been in the past. To clarify a bit, I used to be user-focused -- it was my job to make sure that I understood who was using our end product and how to make it the best possible experience for them. That all changed post-vacation. I came back and was told that with my new clients, I was focused on the business. As in how to make them more money.
OK, fine. I understand that they have to make money or they can't pay us and if they don't pay us, I don't have a job. But this new "focus on the business" aspect is insane. I guess if I was an MBA, I might have more respect for it. But what it means to me is that I'm no longer involved in the work. I feel like I'm actually doing meta work -- you know work about the work. I feel like all I do these days is create frameworks to talk about talking about the work. And argue with other people about them. At length.
The problem is that at the end of the day, the frameworks are useless. I've been in the trenches and I know what the people doing the actual work really need. And it's not a bunch of charts and boxes describing the approach. Oh sure, we present them and argue about them and finally agree about them. But what happens then? They languish unused on the server while the writers, designers and IAs are scrambling to get the information they truly need to get the job done.
So there it is. When I was first presented with this, I thought I could handle it a bit like the Comedian from Watchmen, albeit without the napalm, guns and blowtorch. He saw the world for what it was and because he thought he was the only one who got the joke, he made himself into a parody of the world. I thought I could do the same thing -- I get that it's all a joke, and I do get paid for it, so why not just have fun and laugh quietly to myself while I'm earning a paycheck. But it turns out that the joke's on me. Doing this for 10+ hours a day plus traveling almost every week to talk about it with people who actually take this seriously is destroying my soul.
I go on vacation in exactly a week and I think I'll use that time to search what's left of my soul to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Who knows? Maybe I'll come up with a framework for it.
OK, fine. I understand that they have to make money or they can't pay us and if they don't pay us, I don't have a job. But this new "focus on the business" aspect is insane. I guess if I was an MBA, I might have more respect for it. But what it means to me is that I'm no longer involved in the work. I feel like I'm actually doing meta work -- you know work about the work. I feel like all I do these days is create frameworks to talk about talking about the work. And argue with other people about them. At length.
The problem is that at the end of the day, the frameworks are useless. I've been in the trenches and I know what the people doing the actual work really need. And it's not a bunch of charts and boxes describing the approach. Oh sure, we present them and argue about them and finally agree about them. But what happens then? They languish unused on the server while the writers, designers and IAs are scrambling to get the information they truly need to get the job done.
So there it is. When I was first presented with this, I thought I could handle it a bit like the Comedian from Watchmen, albeit without the napalm, guns and blowtorch. He saw the world for what it was and because he thought he was the only one who got the joke, he made himself into a parody of the world. I thought I could do the same thing -- I get that it's all a joke, and I do get paid for it, so why not just have fun and laugh quietly to myself while I'm earning a paycheck. But it turns out that the joke's on me. Doing this for 10+ hours a day plus traveling almost every week to talk about it with people who actually take this seriously is destroying my soul.
I go on vacation in exactly a week and I think I'll use that time to search what's left of my soul to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Who knows? Maybe I'll come up with a framework for it.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
A Town Called Hypocrisy
It's been a while since I've been on here. Suffice it to say that I returned from vacation to find my personal and professional life turned upside down and backwards and not in a good way. But it has made me reflect on some of my personality traits and I have to admit, I'm just one big ol' book of contradictions, as most of us probably are. Here are some of the things that just don't sync up:
300 and Watchmen: I'm not a violent person. And I can't stand gunfire, cannon fire or even fireworks. (When I was three, a "gunfighter" at Six Flags broke character to assure me that it was all make believe because I was crying so hard) So why are these my favorite movies?
Kid Rock: This is probably the area that humiliates me the most. I'm what could probably be considered a bit of a feminist or at least very progressive. So why did I just buy a Kid Rock CD this weekend? Well, because it had a remix that involves Werewolves of London, but that's still no excuse for supporting someone who dated Pamela Anderson!
Sense and Sensibility: I LOVE this book. To the point where it used to be my comfort book when I was unhappy. But again with the feminist thing!
And these are just the ones off the top of my head. I'm sure there are much more embarrassing examples that just go against everything I believe in.
What about you? What contradictions do you have?
300 and Watchmen: I'm not a violent person. And I can't stand gunfire, cannon fire or even fireworks. (When I was three, a "gunfighter" at Six Flags broke character to assure me that it was all make believe because I was crying so hard) So why are these my favorite movies?
Kid Rock: This is probably the area that humiliates me the most. I'm what could probably be considered a bit of a feminist or at least very progressive. So why did I just buy a Kid Rock CD this weekend? Well, because it had a remix that involves Werewolves of London, but that's still no excuse for supporting someone who dated Pamela Anderson!
Sense and Sensibility: I LOVE this book. To the point where it used to be my comfort book when I was unhappy. But again with the feminist thing!
And these are just the ones off the top of my head. I'm sure there are much more embarrassing examples that just go against everything I believe in.
What about you? What contradictions do you have?
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
In Memoriam
I'm not good with serious posts as I really think blogging works best with sarcasm, humor or at least positive insights. But today being what it is, I'm going to try to write something meaningful that will hopefully be uplifting rather than depressing.
Today is the 6th anniversary (how I hate using that word in this context) of my beloved husband's death. I decided a couple of years ago that I would try to use the day to remember the wonderful person he was and that it was a blessing to have had him in my life, even if it was cut short too soon. Unfortunately due to the transient nature of our lives and work, most people I'm close to these days never had the chance to meet him or know him all that well. So here goes -- my post to the kindest, most gentle and generous soul I have ever known.
Chris and I had known each other about 6 months or so before he asked me out. My friends and I frequented the bar he worked at, so I got to know him gradually. One night, two of my friends had a really bad fight (a misunderstanding over a guy naturally) and for whatever reason, while they were in the bathroom yelling at each other, he asked me out. The odd thing is, that night ended one of my long-term friendships (I never really get over how badly one friend treated the other over something so stupid) and started another.
From the very beginning, we got along beautifully. I think we decided by date 3, which was 3 days after the first date, that we needed to be exclusive. Shortly after we started dating, I made a major career change, which he questioned (as did everyone), but fully supported once he understood that it was something I really wanted. Because my new job was with a startup, my hours and responsibilities were crazy -- sometimes all nighters and always late night. He certainly expressed concern for my welfare and that he missed me, but he was still supportive of me. He made gourmet sandwiches for my lunch and cooked supper when I got home, no matter how late.
We moved in together with his cat about 9 months after we started dating. Because we both had a love for animals, we picked up and found homes for numerous strays before we got a dog of our own. At one point, our cat was diagnosed with diabetes and Chris diligently gave him insulin shots twice a day for the next 6 years. When we eventually got another dog, it was a rescue dog that bit Chris so badly that he had a scar on his nose, but he refused to give up on her.
Some time after we had been dating for about 4 years, the question of marriage began to surface. Our families were asking about it. Our friends were curious. We were terrified. We had a great life together. Why fix what ain't broke? And then we started talking about the future. We both wanted a house. Kids. And we figured out that getting married was the right first step. I think if it would have been up to Chris, he would have chosen a JP office visit or a trip to Vegas. He was never one for much of a fuss. But because he knew what it meant to me, he went through with the big church wedding, complete with 5 attendants on each side.
We had a fantastic marriage for the next year and a half. And then one Sunday morning in late April six years ago, I got the call. And two days later, it was all over. I was left alone with our life.
I miss him every day of my life and probably always will. But I'm forever grateful that this wonderfully kind soul and truly great human being was a part of my life. So, Chris, today is for you. I'll light a candle for you tonight and drink a toast in your honor. Because true love is always alive in our hearts.
Today is the 6th anniversary (how I hate using that word in this context) of my beloved husband's death. I decided a couple of years ago that I would try to use the day to remember the wonderful person he was and that it was a blessing to have had him in my life, even if it was cut short too soon. Unfortunately due to the transient nature of our lives and work, most people I'm close to these days never had the chance to meet him or know him all that well. So here goes -- my post to the kindest, most gentle and generous soul I have ever known.
Chris and I had known each other about 6 months or so before he asked me out. My friends and I frequented the bar he worked at, so I got to know him gradually. One night, two of my friends had a really bad fight (a misunderstanding over a guy naturally) and for whatever reason, while they were in the bathroom yelling at each other, he asked me out. The odd thing is, that night ended one of my long-term friendships (I never really get over how badly one friend treated the other over something so stupid) and started another.
From the very beginning, we got along beautifully. I think we decided by date 3, which was 3 days after the first date, that we needed to be exclusive. Shortly after we started dating, I made a major career change, which he questioned (as did everyone), but fully supported once he understood that it was something I really wanted. Because my new job was with a startup, my hours and responsibilities were crazy -- sometimes all nighters and always late night. He certainly expressed concern for my welfare and that he missed me, but he was still supportive of me. He made gourmet sandwiches for my lunch and cooked supper when I got home, no matter how late.
We moved in together with his cat about 9 months after we started dating. Because we both had a love for animals, we picked up and found homes for numerous strays before we got a dog of our own. At one point, our cat was diagnosed with diabetes and Chris diligently gave him insulin shots twice a day for the next 6 years. When we eventually got another dog, it was a rescue dog that bit Chris so badly that he had a scar on his nose, but he refused to give up on her.
Some time after we had been dating for about 4 years, the question of marriage began to surface. Our families were asking about it. Our friends were curious. We were terrified. We had a great life together. Why fix what ain't broke? And then we started talking about the future. We both wanted a house. Kids. And we figured out that getting married was the right first step. I think if it would have been up to Chris, he would have chosen a JP office visit or a trip to Vegas. He was never one for much of a fuss. But because he knew what it meant to me, he went through with the big church wedding, complete with 5 attendants on each side.
We had a fantastic marriage for the next year and a half. And then one Sunday morning in late April six years ago, I got the call. And two days later, it was all over. I was left alone with our life.
I miss him every day of my life and probably always will. But I'm forever grateful that this wonderfully kind soul and truly great human being was a part of my life. So, Chris, today is for you. I'll light a candle for you tonight and drink a toast in your honor. Because true love is always alive in our hearts.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Who Do You Love to Hate?
So, I've started watching this really random cartoon, which is weird because (a) I don't really have a conventional sense of humor, so I'm not even a fan of hip stuff like Family Guy and (b) I don't like science fiction/superhero themes and many, many cartoons (including this one) focus on these. But this one is a parody on Jonny Quest, which was one of my childhood favorites, so it works for me.
Anyway, the show concerns itself with "good" guys and the villains they fight. And one of the terms they've coined is "arching", which is basically targeting and attacking your arch enemy. At one point, the main villain is forbidden (by the villian union??) to "arch" the protagonist (I really can't say good guy again with a straight face) of the show. And the main villain HATES it. Because there's nothing he loves more than to torment his rival. So much so, that he doesn't ever want to REALLY defeat him because then life's meaning would be gone.
For whatever reason, I'm fascinated by this theme. The rules of engagement (as defined in the cartoon) are about getting one up on one's nemesis without causing any real damage. And I'm not sure I've ever seen this in real life. Maybe it's because I missed out on this type of thing when I was in college. (I never cared for football, so the whole rivalry thing just didn't happen for me. ) And I'm curious if this type of relationship exists in the adult world. I guess in the agency world, you've got the tension between the account people and the creatives. But it doesn't feel like "arching" to me.
Anyone out there have a great rivalry going? I'd love to hear some good "arching" stories.
Anyway, the show concerns itself with "good" guys and the villains they fight. And one of the terms they've coined is "arching", which is basically targeting and attacking your arch enemy. At one point, the main villain is forbidden (by the villian union??) to "arch" the protagonist (I really can't say good guy again with a straight face) of the show. And the main villain HATES it. Because there's nothing he loves more than to torment his rival. So much so, that he doesn't ever want to REALLY defeat him because then life's meaning would be gone.
For whatever reason, I'm fascinated by this theme. The rules of engagement (as defined in the cartoon) are about getting one up on one's nemesis without causing any real damage. And I'm not sure I've ever seen this in real life. Maybe it's because I missed out on this type of thing when I was in college. (I never cared for football, so the whole rivalry thing just didn't happen for me. ) And I'm curious if this type of relationship exists in the adult world. I guess in the agency world, you've got the tension between the account people and the creatives. But it doesn't feel like "arching" to me.
Anyone out there have a great rivalry going? I'd love to hear some good "arching" stories.
Monday, April 20, 2009
A Tale of Two Families ... With Some Sparring Thrown In
Family dynamics are always interesting to observe. Every single group is a little bit different, with their own tribal customs and rituals. Friday night I got to observe the new beau's family in the wild.
Despite being absolutely terrified of meeting him, his son, his mom and dad, his sister, brother-in-law, niece and six random friends of the family, once I got there, everyone did their best to make me feel at home. Some of it was a little awkward (we were at a barbecue joint and everyone was trying to push meat at me, the vegetarian), but well-intentioned, none-the-less. And I somehow got seated between my beau and his son, which was really frightening, because his son's opinion matters more than anything else in the world. But even his son seemed to be trying to put me at ease by talking to me throughout the entire meal. (We totally bonded on gargoyles.) Anyway, what started out being the scariest thing in the world ended up being absolutely OK. More than OK. It was actually really fun. Because everyone acted like having me around was the most normal and coolest thing ever.
Contrast this with my family's reaction to this relationship. They're in denial, and being passive aggressive, are determined that if they just ignore the fact that we're dating, the relationship will go away. I heard from my sister-in-law that my sister and my Mom think I'm a complete idiot for even giving the new beau the time of day. This is based on the one or two times they met him almost 20 years ago. Yes, he broke my heart. Yes, he made some mistakes. But you know what? We were TOO young for the relationship to be viable at that time. (I shudder to think what would have happened if we HAD stayed together. ) So, they're tryng and succeeding somewhat in making me sad that I can't share my excitement about this new relationship with them. Because I know that if things go south, they'll throw anything and everything I share back into my face with an I Told You So. (Interestingly enough, I told my husband's sister about it, and she is overjoyed. Go figure.)
So, in the midst of all of this, I had a karate tournament. What a disaster that was. I'm not totally discouraged because I think there were a number of things working against me, but it certainly didn't turn out how I would have expected or hoped. Suffice it to say that I came in 4 out of 4 in my division. Knocked out (figuratively, not literally) in the first round. I did fight someone two belt ranks higher than me, who seemed to have a lot of tournament experience, so I guess that's something. And I did manage to score a few points on her. So it wasn't all terrible. Just not what I'd hoped for.
So I'd say I broke even on this weekend's events. The loss at the tournament was more than made up for by Friday night's family frivolities. I'm not counting my family into the equation because maybe if they can pretend this relationship isn't happening, I can pretend that they don't have an opinion about it.
Despite being absolutely terrified of meeting him, his son, his mom and dad, his sister, brother-in-law, niece and six random friends of the family, once I got there, everyone did their best to make me feel at home. Some of it was a little awkward (we were at a barbecue joint and everyone was trying to push meat at me, the vegetarian), but well-intentioned, none-the-less. And I somehow got seated between my beau and his son, which was really frightening, because his son's opinion matters more than anything else in the world. But even his son seemed to be trying to put me at ease by talking to me throughout the entire meal. (We totally bonded on gargoyles.) Anyway, what started out being the scariest thing in the world ended up being absolutely OK. More than OK. It was actually really fun. Because everyone acted like having me around was the most normal and coolest thing ever.
Contrast this with my family's reaction to this relationship. They're in denial, and being passive aggressive, are determined that if they just ignore the fact that we're dating, the relationship will go away. I heard from my sister-in-law that my sister and my Mom think I'm a complete idiot for even giving the new beau the time of day. This is based on the one or two times they met him almost 20 years ago. Yes, he broke my heart. Yes, he made some mistakes. But you know what? We were TOO young for the relationship to be viable at that time. (I shudder to think what would have happened if we HAD stayed together. ) So, they're tryng and succeeding somewhat in making me sad that I can't share my excitement about this new relationship with them. Because I know that if things go south, they'll throw anything and everything I share back into my face with an I Told You So. (Interestingly enough, I told my husband's sister about it, and she is overjoyed. Go figure.)
So, in the midst of all of this, I had a karate tournament. What a disaster that was. I'm not totally discouraged because I think there were a number of things working against me, but it certainly didn't turn out how I would have expected or hoped. Suffice it to say that I came in 4 out of 4 in my division. Knocked out (figuratively, not literally) in the first round. I did fight someone two belt ranks higher than me, who seemed to have a lot of tournament experience, so I guess that's something. And I did manage to score a few points on her. So it wasn't all terrible. Just not what I'd hoped for.
So I'd say I broke even on this weekend's events. The loss at the tournament was more than made up for by Friday night's family frivolities. I'm not counting my family into the equation because maybe if they can pretend this relationship isn't happening, I can pretend that they don't have an opinion about it.
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