A World I Can Control

It seems to me that I live in chaos.  My choice.  I could manage my time better.  I could delete from my life some of the activities that keep me at a dead run. 

But then I start considering what I would be willing to give up.....last-minute trips to the beach, late-night laughter over appetizers, scripture study and class preparation for seminary, binge-watching my show du jour, children's theater costume designing and creation, walks with the dog, playing board games with my family, sharing thoughts with my husband?  Nope.  None of that is, as politicians say, discretionary spending of my time.  I need them.  They are required.

Then we move on to the list of things I don't like to do, that I would gladly label discretionary.  Laundry, sweeping, mopping, doing dishes, windows (yeah, right?!), vacuuming.  Again, no real wiggle room. I've pretty much already shaved those down to as little as is hygienic, I think.
Work?  Well, my boss is really understanding, but even he would notice if I didn't show up.  And would ask about it at dinner--since my boss is my husband.
So...the chaos continues and my time remains unmanaged.
However, I have found there is a small part of my life that I can direct.  A little, infinitesimally tiny corner, a speck, of the universe that I can control.  A fairy garden.

I made my first one a couple of years ago with the help of a crafty friend. I found some interesting plants and a large planter at my local big box "home" store and a few small scaled bits and pieces at my local craft store and I was ready.  An hour later, with dirt under my fingernails, I pronounced it good.  My own planet writ small.  There was a house, a stone path, over-sized ceramic mushrooms and dainty flowers.  A miniature garden chair half-hidden in the shade of a towering grass plant and a tiny grey kitten walking down the path.  My imagination exploded with the possible stories of the very small people who will live in that very small house.
Since that first garden, I have reworked it several times.  Replanted when insufficient summer rain (and my lack of watering) or winter's deep freeze rendered the garden desolate. Each time I enjoy the process of seeking out just the right plants and situating them just so....allowing for lines of sight to reveal signs of the tiny inhabitants' belongings, suggestions of their lives. 
This year, I have expanded my interest in that world of my creation and, as I decorated my own yard for Halloween, I did the same for my imaginary tenants, complete with a jack-o-lantern and graveyard behind a iron fence.
My life may not be managed; I may live in a state of constant "what do I have to do todays."  But my fairy garden is under control, organized, ready at any time for me to take a peek at, hoping to see someone resting in a chair or using the tools to plant something in the little flower pots.
I like fairy gardens.  They let me imagine I can control something.  Even if it is something very small.
Now I can't wait to get things ready for Christmas.  I think there's going to be deer visiting and signs of mini fairy children--a wagon full of presents, a tiny tricycle--I wonder if Santa visits fairies?

So this is Pinterest

I am not an early adopter.  You know one, I am certain.  Early adopters are people who are the first to try out new technologies.  They stand in line overnight for the opportunity to get on a waiting list to spend hundreds of dollars to get the next iPhone or the improved gaming system.

They welcome the chance to beta test new machines or software.  They quickly master updates in operating systems and are not afraid to change the factory settings on every phone, computer or netbook they touch. 

They are not like me.

Don't misunderstand.  I like technology.  I'm dating myself when I say this, but I learned computer coding in high school.....using fortran.....on computer cards.....that you protected at all cost because any misplaced card could result in total program failure.  I played computer games on televisions that were connected to cassette tape recorders that sent commands as streams of shrill beeps.

There were a handful of us in my high school.  I seem to remember I was the only female.  I was definitely the only one that understood hygiene.  That, however, was a while ago.....quite a while ago.  Back before Bill Gates made nerdy-intellectualism attractive.....valuable......an asset.

These days I know how to use the technology I encounter.  I can deal with the frustrations of printers that suddenly decide they no longer wish to allow your computer to communicate with them.  I understand the importance of scheduled back-ups on external hard drives, even if I don't always do them as scheduled.  I can even generally grasp the concept of cloud storage and the potential of Google Docs to speed multi-directional communication within groups.

However, until earlier this summer, I hadn't forayed out into the ocean of pins and boards and followers generally referred to as Pinterest.

My teenage daughters have been "pinning" for quite a while and have lots of boards that they follow and they are followed in turn by others, sharing and re-sharing the same set of pictures of beloved actors, anime characters, bands, hairstyle hints, visual puns, video game cheats, and so on and so on.  You name it, there's sure to be someone commenting about it, adding a picture showing it or making a meme to mock it.

So, I ventured out into this ocean of pictures and thoughts and ideas.  I was asked, when I set up my account, to choose to "follow" a few boards.  Places were suggested based on broad topics:  books, cooking, movies.  I was immediately overwhelmed by the number of images which I was encouraged to "pin" to my own boards about books or cooking or movies. GAAAH!!  Too much, too much!!!!

It took weeks for me to attempt such overload again.  And then only because I was in search of specific information to address a specific need I had.  AND my Google search kept sending me to Pinterest boards.

Ok, I thought, I'll try again.  This time I ignored everything that showed up at the beginning and searched for what I really wanted.  And found it.  Still too much of it.  And way more of it than I could ever actual look at and read, let alone use.

But I did create a board for myself.  A place to keep the things I'd found that were of interest to me, so I wouldn't have to search for them again when I really needed them.

I didn't pin much that first day. And I don't add much now.  But every so often, as I find a thing or two of interest and value in the huge expanse of the internet, I add them to my board.  I've also created a thing or two myself as I've found something in the analog world that I'd like to add to my digital world.

And then something crazy happened.  Someone found me, found my board among the millions in the digital universe, liked what she saw and started to follow me.  

For those who use Pinterest often, no big deal.  My daughters have hundreds of followers.  For them, that's the point of Pinterest.  But for me, Pinterest was just a place I was storing things for me, so that I could find them again, so I wouldn't have to use memory on my computer.

But now....there's someone else out there.  Looking at what I've found and liking it enough to want to see what ELSE I might find.  It felt odd.  

I know, I write a blog.  But virtually no one reads this.  Not even my own family.  Most people don't even know I have one.  I don't do it for anyone but me.  Just to keep writing.  Stream of consciousness thing, really.  And I don't write often.  Very, very infrequently.

But now there's someone out there, someone I don't even know, who is informed immediately of everything that I pin to my board.

Like I said, it felt odd.  But ok, that's way things are.  Feels odd that someone else was watching what I was doing, but I kept saving things I found, I liked, I created.  And then yesterday someone else started following me.

I know, two people out of the billions on the internet.  But for me, it's kinda eerie.  Like realizing, too late, that you left the shades open when you changed the sheets on the bed and put away the clean laundry last night. Nothing really to see, but if someone looked up at just the right moment they would be able to see you.  It just feels odd.

SO, Pinterest may be a lot of things to a lot of people....but to me, the best visual is slowly driving down a dark street looking into the open lit windows of all the houses, checking out what's been made for dinner or watched on television.  And when you "follow" someone....it's kinda like you're stalking their brains, watching to see what they think, what they like.

Creepy when you consider it like that, huh?  Are you starting to feel like someone's reading over your shoulder?  Me, too.

So shines a good deed in a weary world

Yesterday was an adventure in bureaucracy.

 I knew it would be.

 I prepared in advance.

 I checked and rechecked that I had all the information I would need, that I would be able to answer every question, address every concern, acknowledge and disarm every argument.

 

Feeling confident, I entered the fray…..at my daughter’s high school guidance office.

Here’s the backstory.  My daughter, a high school senior, only requires two classes to graduate—two.  Unfortunately, one of them is only offered during spring semester and she wanted to take another AP class.  So, essentially, she had three classes she wanted to take.  We carefully put those three classes at the head of her list of requested classes when we completed her registration form last spring.

She also was planning to take at least two classes—one each semester—at our local community college, where high school students are allowed to enroll in classes from a particular list and earn college credit for the cost of books and a small fee.

I knew there would be trouble when the coordinator called from the community college to inform us the only time she could attend her requested class fall semester was Tuesday and Thursday nights from 6-8.  Not a good time—it conflicted with church youth activities and Key Club service projects and afterschool activities that don’t end until 6pm.  Hmm….can it be changed?  Well, not now, we have to wait to see if other sections are opened.  Ok, please keep me informed.  Of course. 

The summer passes….don’t hear anything from college coordinator.  Guess there weren’t any other sections opened.  Now we are going to have to wait until the day fees are due and class schedules are purged for non-payment.  That day passes, I check available sections…..none.

But what’s this?!  There are twice as many sections as there were in June!!  And no phone call ever came!!??!

So, my daughter attends the high students’ orientation session at the community college—the night before the semester starts.  The day before late registration begins.  The last day she can drop a class without getting a zero on her report card at the high school.  Yes….a meeting that important and it’s scheduled at the LAST POSSIBLE MOMENT!!!  Knowing the conflicts inherent in the class she was enrolled in, she did the only thing she could, she dropped the class.

Ok, I’m now ready to figure out another class to attend at the community college.  But to be able to find one, we need to have her course schedule from the high school.  Students can be released during school hours to attend the classes at the community college, and the school is on a block schedule, so the class periods are long enough to allow for travel time.  But we need to know exactly what times her classes are scheduled.

Should be easy, right?  Call the school, ask for the guidance office and get her schedule.  Yeah, not so much.

It’s a Friday morning….exactly ten days before the start of the school year and no one answers the phone.  Not in the guidance office, not even the receptionist.  I left multiple messages.  I called several times throughout the morning.  No response.

At lunchtime, with no one answering the phone or returning my messages, I assumed everyone was busy and screening their calls, but wouldn’t be able to ignore me if I was standing in front of them.  So, I drove to the school.  Not a single car in the parking lot.  TEN DAYS until the beginning of school and NO ONE was home!!!!  

So, first day of late registration, which is also the first day of class, passes and my daughter is in limbo.  And the few classes with open seats are closing.

Sunday night I spend perusing the class schedule at the community college, my daughter at my side.  What classes offered at what times still have open seats?  What other classes would you perhaps like to take?  How do the class times relate to the bell schedule at the high school?  What do you mean you don’t know the bell schedule??!! (Breathe, just breathe) What other options are available at the high school in case things need to be changed?  What about virtual school options?  What classes listed there look interesting?

More than three hours later, we have options.  Options for the high school, options at the community college, options for virtual school.  But everything depends on getting her schedule from the high school. 

Side bar here…..for some reason, my daughter’s high school has decided releasing class schedules is tantamount to releasing the president’s daily schedule.  They don’t mail them, they won’t give them over the phone and they really, REALLY dislike giving them out before Open House…which this year is on Thursday night before class starts on Monday.  It’s insane…no other school in the entire district, as far as I know does it this way.  But that’s a harangue I will approach some other time.

So, knowing this, on Monday morning I skip the phone entirely.  With my certain-she-is-going-to-be-embarrassed-by-her-mother daughter in tow, we go into battle.  Well, truth be told, I psyched myself up by repeating over and over, flies and honey, flies and honey.  My plan was to be soft-spoken, personable, understanding but firm.  I was not leaving the school without that schedule.  I was hoping there wouldn’t be a battle, but I was prepared if there needed to be one.

I approach the receptionist, deprecating smile on my face, gesturing over my shoulder to the guidance office, which was closed and completely dark.  Hi, I was wondering if you could help me.  I need to get my daughter registered in a different class at ------ and I need to know when her classes are scheduled here so I can work around them.  I don’t even need to know what classes they are.  I just need to know when.  And I see the guidance counselors aren’t available.  Can you help?

No.  She can’t.  But maybe the attendance secretary can, her office is just around the corner.  Thank you so much…..(and my brain is saying, “Attendance??!  Seriously??!!”  Well, ok….)  And this when it becomes surreal.

Sure, I can help.  Let’s look her up.  Oh….hmmm….(At this I peer through the tiny window into her “office.”  I’d call it an oversized closet) Well, it looks like she’s one of the seniors they’ve been working on this summer.  (Brain: “WORKING ON!!??  What does that mean?!!” ) 

As I lean further through the window, I see on the computer screen one class in a schedule that should have at least two—and what is the class?  ART!!!!  Nowhere on any form did my daughter request ART!!  One semester in her freshman year convinced her that was not where her interests lay.  

Second semester is no better.  She has two of the classes she requested, BUT they are supposed to be taught consecutively, as in one after the other, not at the same time. 

And the required course.  The one she HAS TO HAVE TO GRADUATE??!!!  Nowhere to be seen.  

What am I supposed to do now?!!?  This I did not plan for.  Her entire schedule at the high school needs to be reworked before we can even begin to visit the issue of the college course.  And where are the guidance counselors….the ones that HAVE to approve ANY changes??!!  In a meeting which will last ALL day!!!  REALLY!!! SERIOUSLY!!!

 And best news of all…..my daughter, the SENIOR, is not the only one.  There are at least 20—yes, 20!!—other seniors whose schedules are also, how did she put it?, oh, right, incomplete.

At this point I was losing my grasp on “flies and honey, flies and honey.”  As I prepared to become the high school equivalent of the Terminator in my zeal to locate an administrator to address this nightmare, something incredible happened.  At that precise moment, having clearly snuck out of the meeting to get a drink, check email, breathe some different air, but most importantly, save my sanity, into the office walks the administrative assistant for the guidance counselors.

I wish I could report she was the cure for all that ailed my daughter’s schedule, she wasn’t because she could not make the changes herself—remember only guidance counselors could.  But she was able to start the process and she followed up throughout the day.  A schedule was determined; classes moved to first semester, added to second semester; options decided on and I left for the community college with at least an idea of when a course could be added.

Slight delay in the coordinator’s office…doesn’t anyone work there or is it all about discussions of track and football?  A couple of phone calls around campus to determine if a particular classroom has only the number of seats shown on the schedule or if it was mislabeled, a visit to the bookstore--long line at one, nope not waiting here--quick service and a-books-will-be-how-much??!! gasp at the other and tada!! Miracle of miracles, my daughter was enrolled in, had books for and attended her first day of college.

I still don’t understand the reason behind the failure of class scheduling at the high school and why the school doesn’t allow for parents to get schedules earlier in the summer to address these kinds of issues.  And I wish there was easier way to enroll the high schools students at the college—did learn, after the fact, while physically sitting in the office, that it could’ve been handled over the phone.

But all things together….it was a productive day.  I went to battle with the bureaucracy of two separate educational organizations and came away conqueror.  

 Not a bad day’s work.  Thanks to the hero of the day—an administrative assistant.  They do control the world, you know.