Reviews

Job reviews always make me a little unhappy. I've never had a bad review per say. Usually there's a couple criticisms-most of which have been pretty solid and on the nose-but mostly they're pretty decent. I just go in, sit down, listen to them read off whatever they've written down and react to it a little and then go back to my desk and wonder why they even bothered. The thing about the reviews is that I could tell them everything they've written down, and I could tell them more. But they don't really want to know more. They just write the reviews because they have to.
I bring this up because the outsourcing agency gave me my review last Friday. (I don't know why they do end of the year reviews in June, but that's their way, I guess.) Everything averaged up to a "meets expectations" (which I think is like a B), which is good I guess. This half-year (which is all they were reviewing) hasn't been a "meets expectations" kind of year, in my opinion. I have really done an okay job. I'd say it's more C+ than anything.
Of course I'm probably harder on myself than they are. But that's the thing. My opinion doesn't matter. Reviews are really just a time for them to tell you what they want you to work on. Their criticisms are meant to give you something to strive for, sure, but really they're just meant to enforce on you that what they think of your performance is what counts. They have a point of course, because they're giving me a check* to do this stuff. But I think it's this that irks me about it.
Trying to simmer what I do into anecdotal evidence of my worth is really dumb. Sure, someone once saw me checking my email at work, but is that a reasonable reflection of how I spend my time? Actually, I am updating my blog right now...but, no. It's not. And yes, I lost my cool with a couple of people (who are idiots by the way. I wonder if at their reviews, it gets mentioned that they can't read past a third grade level. It maybe should be at least brought up). But what about the sheer volume of shit I handle? And the times I didn't lose my cool (when I clearly should have)?
I don't ask these questions because I actually care about the answers. I gave up on really caring about this job (you know to really try to make this place what I think it could be). I now just try to make sure I do enough work everyday so that I won't ever feel overwhelmed when they ask me to do more stupid shit.
But, yes. I can do it with a smile on my face, since that's what they want.
The truth is it's the not caring that upsets me. It's how I'm getting through this until I start classes and doors start opening. But it still bothers me.
*Note. I wanted to put cash, but they don't give me cash. I shouldn't have even put check, because I have the direct deposit. So, every other Friday is like an old spy movie where I'm checking my accounts (sadly, it's not Swiss) to see if everything's okay and disaster** has been averted for another fortnight.
**Note to note. Not that it would be a disaster for me to not work here. It would however, be a disaster for them if I stopped holding their system together through my amazing willpower and sheer tenacity.***
***Note to note to note. Maybe I shouldn't write my review. Too much sarcasm and truth. And they wouldn't know which was which.****
****Note to note to note to note. This one's merely gratuitous.
----
Sigh.

4

Everything seems to be coming together well. Seems to be. It doesn't stop the nervousness from creeping into my stomach and making me check my itinerary and check lists to make sure I've put everything on each that needs to be there, but I'm pretty sure it's the reality. I've always been a bit of a worrier (more than a bit, really).
And you know I'm a little nervous when I'm dreaming about ex-girlfriends, which is what happened last night. I don't remember all the specifics of the dream, but it was basically a jury system, where they were deciding whether I was worthy to marry anyone. (It was a little too Beckett for my taste.) This is quite frightening if you're at all aware of my dating history and the way some (too many) of my relationships ended. The funny thing is that none of the relationships that ended so badly were really represented. My psyche saving me from all of it? Or saving it for later? Who knows.
But.
The dream does bring out one of my bigger worries about marriage: I have worried that I won't be a good husband (past tense for the most part). It's definitely something Dinah and I have talked about (communication is good, that's in my favor, right?). And not to lay this all at the feet of my father (because clearly I wasn't a good partner to everyone when he was around and setting a decent example), but my consciousness of being a good partner has really gone up since he's been gone. Which makes sense. You have someone pegged as one thing and then they show you they are something completely different. It shakes you. It's not just about what I learned about him, it's about (as with most things for me it seems) what I learned about myself. Or rather, what it was I could learn about myself.
I cheated on one girlfriend back in college. We were sort of on a break or broken-up, but that's just semantics and such. Clearly this isn't the equal of cheating on your wife of 30 years, but it was probably the thing I've done in my life that I'm least proud of. Partially that's because I really honestly liked the girl I cheated on. I felt most of the time that she was too good for me, and in the end I proved that to be true. But, I also was disappointed in myself because I didn't think I was that guy. Or I didn't want to be that guy. I wanted to be the guy who deserved her. (Note. Dad was still around. So, this is all on me. Not trying to blame him. Just making a comparison.)
And after that relationship, I put myself in stupid situations time and again, until I finally was forced to realize how poorly I was handling myself. And then I took almost 3 years off of dating. Truthfully, I didn't mean for it to last that long, but it did. And it really needed to.
I wish there was a moment of epiphany when I realized I'm a good person, living on this earth searching for love and acceptance just like every other creature on the earth. There wasn't, though. Which isn't to say the time wasn't worthwhile, because it was so worth it. During those 3 years, I thought about myself and why I had been doing the things I had been doing and how I could do things better.
And I made a lot of progress. And as Dinah could tell you, I'm not there yet. I'm not the good partner I want to be. I have my areas I need to look at and keep working on. But I am heading in the right direction, I think. And despite my darkest concerns about becoming my father, I have had plenty of time to think about how to be the guy I want to be.
Now if I could only say I knew anything about carpentry, I'd be in real good husband-shape.

5

Everyone at work has told me how the wedding day is gonna go and how it's best to deal with the day. "It's gonna go by in the blink of an eye." "The day stretches out and you just enjoy every second of it." "You'll feel so nervous until the booze starts flowing." "Just gotta try to survive. It's not your day anyway." "Just don't drink anything. It's not worth it."
This all at the "congratulations" party they combined with the (somewhat) monthly celebration of work anniversaries and birthdays. (Such a thoughtful gesture, I had completely ruled it out of the realm of probability. They also cut me a check for the wedding. Small, but a nice gesture. Surprisingly nice.) I listened to everyone's advice and thoughts. I mean, I haven't been married before and they have (some 2 or 3 times). They meant well, and some of the advice is good, probably.
I think more than the advice, what they really wanted to do was tell me stories about their weddings. Whenever you tell someone you're getting married, if they are married, sometimes even if they've only been to a wedding, they want to tell you a story about it. They love to tell you how much simpler it was to get married when they got married (even if it was 5 years ago). They love to tell you about their uncles dancing, they're mother-in-law crying or saying inappropriate things. They love to tell you about the preacher (or pastor or officiant) and how they went wayyyy off-script. Or how hot it was in the unairconditioned church. Or how it rained the whole day before, but let up just for a couple hours when they had their ceremony. People love to talk about their wedding day. They don't like to hear about your plans for yours, but whatever.
****
An admission.
I have a metrosexual side that comes out every once in a while. (Hey, why is this buried at the end of a post instead of getting it's own post?) Saturday, I got a manicure and a pedicure. This is my first time getting either of these done, just for the record. Also for the record, it probably won't be my last. (I went, you know, "just so I'll look put together for the wedding", but well...you know.)
I don't know if I've talked too much about the gym in my building at work. It's a small room with three treadmills (one of which doesn't do well when running and another which doesn't have any good pre-set programs, leaving one "good" treadmill for what I want to do. Guess which one the 55 year old ladies choose to use when they need to walk at 4 mph with no incline?), three ellipticals (which one woman stakes out the one closest to the TV for what I think is the Bold and the Beautiful, but also might be General Hospital or Passions) a couple bikes and a stair master. Oh, wait, I just described the stuff I like to use. The gentlemen who are always getting dressed from their showers (when not talking about college basketball, or the security woman with the booming ass [I think that's meant as a positive, but I can't say I want my ass called "booming"]) call that part of the gym, "the lady side". There's also a "man" side with some nautilus machines and free weights.
Anyway, I'm excited to get to the gym today so I can show off my blue toenails. I think that's gonna be the thing that bonds me to the guys.

Short thoughts...

• Tomorrow's Dinah's birthday. Yeah, her birthday is a week before our wedding date (which happens to be my mother's birthday). This will be fun in the years to come as I have to figure out what two gifts to get her for the two events, so conveniently placed a week apart. Smart Joe. Very smart.
• It's snowing in Chicago. Not the light snow that I could laugh off, but whipping in your face snow. And it's gonna be around 4 to 5 inches worth by the time I get out of work today. This is not acceptable. Not at all. It looks like it'll melt off by Thursday when Dinah and I go to Grinnell for the wedding. That's the positive.
• The weather for the wedding weekend looks okay, so far. Mid-forties and mostly cloudy Friday and Saturday. A little rain or snow on Sunday This is according to weather.com. The Des Moines Register has only a 7 day, but their Thursday looks a bit warmer. I'm gonna believe the Register now, because they're telling me what I want to hear.
• Thank goodness for the NCAA. There was a couple hours last night where I didn't think about the wedding. (8 days away now.) It's not that I'm worried about things, I am a little, it's just that now it's all out there. It's like that moment when a pitcher has let the ball go...he went through his motion, hit his arm slot, good arm speed, released the ball where he needed to--it all went well. He knows about where the ball's going (unless he's Tim Wakefield), he knows how it should break, but that's it. He doesn't know how everyone else is gonna react. So, for a moment-a split second, really-he's just trying to get ready for anything. A come-backer, a drag bunt, a homer. Anything. I'm like that, but for a week or so.
• (I still believe there's a baseball analogy for every situation in life. My secret goal is to catalogue all the events of life and find the perfect baseball analogy.)
• It looks like I'm gonna make the target weight I set for the wedding. I'm sort of proud, but you know, I'm not done. I set the target as something I felt I could reach if I were trying hard enough, but not out of reach. So, it's probably not my ideal weight (which I'll probably never get), but it's better. And I feel better.
• We got dishes last night. Awesome.

Oh Eumaeus, my swineheard...

The snow is taking its last retreat here. Finally. It's been a long dark winter in Chicago, filled with cold tempertures and frequented by snow storms. But, though still below average temperatures, and with thanks to day light savings, I'm seeing more sun and less ice. This is comforting.
Work has been shitty during this period. Punctuated with more projects and less competent people, but this too is supposed to get better soon. Apparently, they are bringing in a "filing expert" to come and take a look at our system and make recommendations. I'm trying not to be bitter that I was once told I would be this expert, but at least this should make things easier. Or so I like to believe.
Staying with work, it seems I've decided to go for the paralegal certificate. There's a lot of positives to it (more cash, more autonomy and thinking, more job opportunities should we decide to leave Chicago, and it opens up jobs outside of law firms a lot more than I originally thought) , and few negatives (billing hours can suck). I'm happy with the decision, but a little disappointed that I'll start in the fall (you know, once I actually apply). It's a year-long program, so, it looks like I may stay here for another year plus. At least with the outsourcing company, who may pony up some cash for me, in which case I could be with them for 2 years or so, total.
You know, when I'd given up the idea of being a ballplayer (though I still have dreams of making it as a low-level relief pitcher [I've got to be as good as Armando Benitez right now, right? Um. no.]), I never thought this is where my life would take me.
For the longest time I assumed my livelihood would be tied to my want for expression. The need to be out there saying something (no matter how softly I spoke). But, I'm 30 years old now. I'm getting married. And while I've published a wee bit in comics, it looks like both publishers I've "worked" with (is it work if they don't pay you? Sort of.) seem to have failed. Though they aren't willing to say they're done. (Here's the bio page with the publisher I would call the "crazy one". I liked how my bio turned out...) And you know, I've still got ideas. And I'm still going to put things down. And maybe I'll get published (hey, someone's still paying John Byrne), but it probably won't be how I thought of it originally.
Which is okay. It's kind of upsetting to me that I'll never (and I'm being honest here) get the acclaim of being a good writer, and the adoring groupies (platonic groupies, Dinah. Platonic groupies). (Little known fact, comics writers do have groupies. Sure, they're dressed as storm troopers, but sexy storm troopers). Really, that's probably what I wanted most. For people to look at something I wrote and say, "hey man, that's pretty good." I can't say if that's how Mark Twain started writing, but I would venture a guess no (though maybe I'm being a little naive about this).
Anyway. I think I only know one person who knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life and now is doing it. In a lot of ways I'm jealous of him and how his life turned out. He's got a nice house, a great wife, a gorgeous (if loud) baby, and the job he's always wanted. It's the American dream, right? It's exactly what we're all supposed to be lusting after, right? I mean, it's not the path I wanted to travel, but the results. Those are the things you're parents (well, mine) tell you (me) to go for. And truthfully, I do want them. Not that it keeps me up at night or rattles me constantly, but. It's there, and I think about it. And I blame myself for not getting there yet. Which probably isn't fair to myself.
I do think I've sort of floated through life up until recently. I haven't aggressively gone after what I want (or deserve, if I'm allowing myself to believe that). But. Maybe that's not my fault. Maybe it's just how I needed to do things. Maybe it's how I needed to figure out that I should be going after the things I want.
Which brings me to Joe Hicks again. I haven't been able to stop thinking about him since I last wrote about him. I wonder what it was that told him it was time to call it a career and pursue something else. Age, most likely. Maybe family concerns. I don't know, and I doubt he'd appreciate me calling him up and asking. Though I like to think he'd invite me down to Kokomo where we'd have a beer and talk about life, baseball, and what-not. (It's too Field of Dreams to really happen, but as long as I don't try to talk to him, I can keep believing this is what would happen.) But, it's the romantic notion (and if he's anything to me, Joe Hicks is a romantic figure), to think he sees his kids playing ball and feels that twinge or remorse at not getting to face Dave Drabecki's fastball or Joaquin Andujar's crazy. But, who knows. Maybe he's happy because he does own the franchise homerun mark in Des Moines (shades of Bull Durham, sure). And he knows he did what he could to get there, and that looking back hurts your neck and your spirit. (Wait, I'm not surprising anyone by saying that I am probably the Joe Hicks I'm talking about am I? Oof. I took that too far.)
What I'm saying is, who knows what I've got coming in the future. I'm getting married (did I mention that's in 16 days? It is.) to an amazing woman. I'm getting a paralegal certificate. Everything else is hazy. I'm not really tied down to any one thing right now. Which, at 30, I thought I would be. That's encouraging, really. Sure, I want some things that will tie me down (house, kids, sexy storm trooper dominatrix), but still. But I'll get them. It's not like I have to have any of this done in the next 10 years. I kind of hope I have some of it done in the next 10 years, but what happens if I don't?
Nothing. I'll live.
Anyhoo. I've rambled a little bit off course, I know. I guess I'm just saying I'm happy the ice is receding, the sun is shining and that I'm getting married in 16 days. I'm not sure I accomplished much with this entry, but it was long. And I'm sure you gained even less by reading, but at least now you know my pen name.

100 Days...

Until I get married. Well...Yesterday. Today it's just 99 days.
It's really shocking when you find someone who sees you with all your baggage and all the drama that is going on in your life and they never seem to wither away from you.
Whether we have the right napkins or not, I'm ready to get married now...

30 from 30...

30 days from turning 30.

30 years old.

It doesn't freak me out that much. It's just interesting to think about in terms of how things have changed for me in the last year and how things are going to change for me soon.

The biggest change is getting married. Which really isn't that much of a change, because we've been together for 4 + years, so. I get some new jewelry and a tax break, very nice.

I guess part of the reason I've started to really reflect on what I'm doing with my life and where I'm going and such. So, to celebrate, I'm gonna ramble for a bit about expectations and my life and such.

In church when I was a kid, I remember people would always ask me what I wanted to be when I got older. For a while I think I said I wanted to be a teacher (before I realized how completely under seige from parents and administrators those poor bastards are). And I remember one woman at church (who we'll call Peggy--because that was her name), seemed to always be dissappointed by that answer.

"Now Joe, don't you think you could be a doctor? Or a lawyer? Or maybe you could even be President." It was a constant message from everyone, set your goals high. Or rather, we have set your goals high. And I've always been so frightened of dissappointing poeple. Not a good combination.

Fast forward two decades plus. I remember when my Dad left my Mom, I went on a spree of writing. It was great (not the Dad leaving Mom thing, that was actually rather hard, despite me being 27ish at the time, but that's another thing). I just suddenly let myself have the freedom to write down the ideas I had. I'm not sure what the connection between the two are, but I think it has something to do with starting to acept that my expectations for my parents (that they'd live together until one or both of them died) weren't realistic. And maybe I started questioning others expectations for me.

What hasn't helped me is the guilt I feel for being relatively healthy and for getting breaks I've gotten. My father and mother both have genetic flaws (for lack of a better word), that have been passed on to my brother and sister (in varying combinations), and not to me (at least thus far). For most my childhood part of going to the doctor for a checkup was going to a heart doctor and having special tests (I can't remember what test it was, thus it's a "special test") to see if we had the same condition as my mother. And I always felt guilty when mine came back clear. And I was always tracked higher in school than my brother and sister. And I remember being told that being tracked higher and taking AP classes didn't make me smarter than my sister, it was just that she was missed. And I understand why my parents said this, but, it wasn't so great for me to not have my talents embraced because they might make others feel bad. (Just two examples. My childhood was mostly happy, I swear).

I don't know. What I do know is that it's time for me to outline my own expectations are and stop worrying as much about others expectations and all of their baggage.

Anyhoo. It seems like 30 is probably a good time to finally figure that seemingly basic idea out and start putting it into practice.