La Moretta

Thank you!

I'm closing up this blog. It has run its course. It has been a wonderful year. Thanks so much for reading and for your advice, support and jokes. It's very possible that I'll start up another blog at some point, and if so, I'll put the information on this blog.

Tedium NOT ahead

I had originally planned on blogging about what I should do on this issue, but I have had a moment of clarity -- I'm just going to let things play out as they will. It's very hard for me to do this, especially when a family member is involved, but I think that's the test for me -- not to say no, but to say nothing. So I won't be blogging about this, I'll just be letting it play out without my involvement for once. So much better. In fact, I'm going to put some very superficial pretty things here courtesy of Alexis Bittar instead of what I posted.

I always thought less of people who didn't embrace the challenges life threw at them. When one of the couples I interviewed about adopting from Ethiopia mentioned that they were faced with a surprise sibling when they showed up to pick up the two children they expected to meet, I thought that what they did -- taking the third child -- was the only right thing to do. Anything else would be -- you guessed it -- dishonorable and selfish. I've often thought that the worst thing a parent can do is to tell their able-bodied children that they are not able to handle life's typical curveballs. We are meant to rise, to square our shoulders and to step up.

Which is why what I'm thinking of doing simply astounds me. I'm thinking about saying no.

It's hard to reconcile this thinking with my worldview until now. I have ALWAYS done what was necessary, or more. 

This is an issue that I'm probably going to blog about a lot --- forewarned.

 

 

 

 

 

More- etta?

Seth Godin's marketing blog often has thought-provoking content. His take on the death of the personal blog, which he calls the cat blog, makes a lot of sense. Godin noted that the top 10 blogs were all written by multiple people, rather than by one. That makes a lot of sense -- fresh content, fresh viewpoints, more energy, the whole deal. From the quality standpoint, it makes a lot of sense, too, since you can probably get contributions from people who wouldn't have the desire to post daily, but have interesting things to say.

You see where I'm going with this, don't you? I'm just floating this trial balloon out there, as a thought. Just let it float by -- I probably wouldn't act on it for months anyway.

 

Grownups have to do things they don't like

One of the things about escaping the corporate life is that I vowed to do what I want, for whomever I chose, and not to do what I really don't want to do. This was because I spent so much time doing things that were soul-insulting or pointless. To illustrate, I wore flip-flops every day for the first year, even in winter.

Meetings and presentations were one of these things -- time-consuming, tiring, awkward. I dodged a bullet last time and avoided going to a meeting to present my research results. This time, though, they want me there. And I need to be there.

I could whine about it to myself, but instead I'm just going to prepare and go and not try to worm my way out of it. I think the big thing is looking at what I dread and addressing each issue.

1. Getting there in the morning -- I am not a morning person.

Solution: Maybe spend the night. Plan out route in advance. Go on auto-pilot in AM.

2. Getting fluffed up -- I am the queen of spilling things, accidentally ending up with lipstick on my nose, etc.

Solution: Get manicure and blow-out. Make a checklist, make sure there are no loose threads, etc. Drink coffee carefully -- maybe through a straw?

3. Making small talk. Yuck.

Solution: Let others do more of that. Comment on the area they are located in. Weather. Look into local sports teams (they are in Connecticut). 

4. Remembering names.

Solution: Remember that you are dealing with human beings who deserve your acknowledgment. There is no such thing as a suit, or even a silverback, in real life. Do that thing with the business cards where you put them so you can remember who is sitting where.

You'll notice that one thing is distinctly not there -- fear of public speaking. That's because, irony of ironies, I am a very good public speaker on my areas of expertise -- authoritative and clear. And a long time ago I realized that all of this is meaningless -- it's just a game, and I simply don't care if I win it. I also see my role as educating (helping), not baring my soul (which I understand is the root of the fear of public speaking). It's very strange, but I am more afraid of the little girl in The Ring than I am of public speaking.

Adopting means no more being a big baby about some things. I must strike a balance between feeling compelled to do things and choosing to do them. So to this meeting I shall go, like a grown-up.

I feel better already.

What would Emily Post say?

I have been working non-stop for the past few weeks, and I'm delighted to have the business. However, it has translated into a bit more of the hermit thing than I might have liked. Specifically, I hadn't left the house for two days and needed to get out to go to the grocery store. Of course, on gray days I have to force myself to make the effort, but this one seemed OK -- dash in, check out my own stuff, dash out. I could keep my Ipod on the whole time. 

Famous last words.

I was happily scanning my stuff, pleased that there was no one behind me so I didn't have to rush, when two EXTREMELY DRUNK men got in line behind me. And that's when pervert charisma set in. They of course began talking to me. One of them got into some sort of one-sided argument with the woman behind them, and then turned to me (busily scanning) and said about me, "She's nice. Not her. She's nice and she's cute." 

Those of you who have few of these encounters probably would have thought, "Hey. A small compliment. I'll take that applause. After all, these guys seem harmless and I'm almost out the door."

You would be wrong. You see, I made the mistake of laughing when the guy said that. And he said "She's cute and she has a laugh like...who is that cartoon character? Oh yeah, Woody Woodpecker." I said the only thing I could say under the circumstances -- "Thanks."

Above: Me, courtesy of Animation World Network.

Anyway, the rest of the scanning was interminable. Things wouldn't scan. The loading belt became full, meaning I had to go and bag things in the middle of the order, confusing my line-mates to no end. These two guys were so loaded that they kept trying to scan their chicken using the ATM screen, then every once in a while would try to use their ATM card while I was still scanning. Fortunately they used it backwards so they didn't end up paying for my stuff. 

Eventually one of the guys left. The other guy then decided to see if he could scan his meal on my dime (hey, he was drunk), but was trying to use the coupon dispenser to do so. Frankly, I wouldn't have cared, but when he saw me glance at him, he said, sheepishly, "Gotta try." I said, "I hear ya." 

Finally, I was done. I told Remaining Guy (he didn't seem to realize that) and he said, "Gangsta." I should have just walked away. But I said, "Excuse me?" "You know, gangsta." Or it was possible that he said, "You're no gangsta." He was really slurring at this point. I responded the only way I could. "Yes.Bye."

I high-tailed it out of there but had to pass through exit area where his friend was, the one who compared me to Woody. Fortunately he was busy picking a fight with the man leaving in front of me.

I have no idea how I could have handled the situation differently. Not responding seemed rude and not very human of me. And they seemed nice and harmless. But situations like that take a lot out of me, especially because drunk people don't really observe boundaries of space or personal property (I probably forgot to mention that while I was bagging things up, they scanned a few things from my cart for me using the coupon dispenser, then placed them on the belt for me to bag). 

This must be a past-life thing. Maybe I was John the Baptist at one point. If so, karma's a bitch.

About the name La Moretta

A dear friend got back in touch (hurrah!), so I sent her to this blog so she could see what I had been up to, or what I claimed to be up to. 

She asked me about where I got the name La Moretta. Well, it's pretty simple: La Moretta was what I later found out my Italian neighbors had nicknamed me (it means the little dark one). That always make me laugh -- There I was, oafing around Florence feeling like a constantly-out-of-place babyhead and meanwhile I had this ridiculously glamorous-sounding (to my American ears) nickname.

It didn't come to mind immediately as a blog name, but EVERYTHING else was taken. 

Later I found out that it was also the name of a black leather or velvet carnival mask that was kept on the face by a button held by the front teeth. In other words, the wearer was unable to talk and remain in disguise. This significance was just a bonus.

Bored of my Vision Board?

After seeing the proof of the power of positive thinking/visibility with the Dino DiModolo ring (I viewed it a lot and therefore wanted it more), I decided to make a vision board, which is basically a poster board with pictures of images that remind me of my goals in life. I began cutting things out of magazines and catalogs and it has pictures of people doing yoga, running, stretching, climbing trees, and of course pictures of cute toddler-babies and young kids. Unfortunately, I am a little exacting about the pictures and therefore there is a lot of white space on my vision board. I'm afraid its completion will fall to the wayside, so I am seriously considering adding a drawing of myself completing the vision board.

Housekeeping

I'm in the process of re-tagging and categorizing my blog, so please bear with me. Also, although no one is reading this really carefully, in the interest of transparency, I have made some small edits for clarity, so you might notice some differences.