Kent majored in chemistry in college, which I’ve always thought was an odd choice for him—odd not because of his ability but more because I see his interests as being so much broader than one branch of science. But he picked chemistry.


The reason is kind of interesting to me. I am probably getting some of the details wrong but in high school, he wasn’t allowed into AP chemistry. When he tried to talk with the teacher to find out why she wouldn’t let him in, the bottom line was that she didn’t think he could do the work because he wasn’t simultaneously enrolled in an AP math class. So in a way, his degree was a great big ol’ Bronx cheer at her.

I’ve done similar things. I didn’t take the SAT or ACT before going to college myself. I was admitted because I was 29 so the Dean of Admissions just went ahead and admitted me. I even asked him about the SAT, and he said yeah sure it would be a good idea to take it. But I couldn’t see any value in spending four hours of my life plus whatever it cost then to find out I was great with words and less so with math. In fact the only downside was that I couldn’t get into the college Honors program until I’d taken some basic 101 classes. Even then, I wasn’t “supposed” to get in but I am very persistent. Once I got in one Honors class and aced it, all of a sudden I was in the program.

Sometimes I think being told no only spurs me on to greater efforts.

Edited to add: I completely forgot how my singing career got started—and it’s another case of being told no. Because I was an oboist, the high school choir teacher who also directed the musicals always wanted me to play in the pit orchestra. I did so my sophomore year, but two years later I really wanted to be in the musical. I was in our top choir and also in a couple of vocal ensembles that competed successfully at district and state competitions so I thought it was appropriate for me to audition. But afterwards, Mrs. Williams told me that she wouldn’t cast me in the musical because she wanted me to play in the pit orchestra again. That just didn’t sit well with me, so I went across town and played in our rival high school’s pit orchestra for their spring musical.

That led me to pursue singing throughout my Army career, at church and as a free lance singer for the next 15 or so years.

Yeah, that’s definitely a situation where being told no just made me more determined.

Jeanne was right

When I was a little girl, I’d pester my mother to put my hair in those foam curlers at night so the next day I would have curly hair. I'm sure it was a royal pain to roll a squirmy little girl's hair in curlers but she did it a few times. Then I’d toss and turn all night long because even though they were foam, those suckers still hurt my head. The next day she’d take them out and I’d have glorious ringlets, at least for a little while.

Over the years I’ve despised my hair. I’ve tried it long, short, permed, not permed and about everything in between. I believed that my hair was limp and fine and wouldn’t do a thing I wanted it to do. I’m here to say I was wrong.

My current hair stylist raves over my hair every single time I’m sitting in his chair. My hair, he tells me, is wonderfully obedient, it does everything he wants it to do. The funny thing is, he is right. I’ve finally figured out that my hair doesn’t need elaborate products or curling irons or anything else. It just needs a bit of volumizing spray (seriously the tiniest amount), a round brush and a blow dryer. And holy cow, I have a lot of hair that does exactly what it’s told to do.

So Jeanne, this is my official "you were right, I was wrong" post.

So many things on my mind

And no time to write. I've begun the four weeks of insanity. This week is taken up with client workshops in Portsmouth which makes for long days. Last night I got home just in time to fall into bed.

I leave Sunday for Hawaii for the first graduation at the new program and also for the first cycle after action meeting. I think this is almost certainly the last trip.

I get back on Friday, leave again Tuesday night for England and a wedding. I get back from that on Sunday evening and leave for Seattle super early Monday morning. I'll be there through the following Sunday.

I keep thinking of things I want to write about on the way to work. Getting the writing done, however, is a different situation altogether.

Trip like I do

Pretty sure I mentioned in my blog about the sales clerk who told me very solemnly that cats see fairies. At the time I laughed silently but now I'm beginning to wonder, maybe she was right.

Last night Wally spent most of the night on the window ledge in our bedroom. That window looks out into a concrete well much like you’d see in a basement window. To see anything at all, you have to crane your neck and look up through the iron grating. Well Wally wasn’t looking up, he was looking out at a concrete wall almost all night long (he did come over for petting a couple of times).

This morning, Eddie joined him and they just stared out into the well, sort of like how I always pictured the Cat in the Hat kids stared outside waiting for their mother. Remember them? Sally and what was his name? I forget and it doesn’t matter anyway.

I even went and looked myself, but there was nothing out there. Unless my cats really do see fairies.

Remember the time

A friend’s daughter has just graduated from high school. I don’t know what she’s doing this summer before heading off to college in the fall, but I wonder if she's feeling the same sense of weird transition I did between high school and the next bit of my life.

Of course my next bit was basic training in the Army. As I recall, I left for basic in mid- to late July so I had almost two months to do not much of anything. I still worked at Burger Chef (apparently the chain was sold off to Hardee's and isn't around anymore), I hung out with my boyfriend, went to the pool and the lake a lot, and had enough time to think maybe I didn’t want to join the Army after all. SEMO still had an oboe scholarship they wanted to give me so I did look into breaking my contract but that got a big thumbs down from the Army. So off I went and I sometimes think how very different my life would have been if I’d gone to college straight out of high school instead. For one thing, I'd have flunked out because I still thought I was quite stupid back then. Anyway . . .

I wonder if others also felt strange in that last summer of mostly no responsibilities, just time to work a little, play a lot, get tan and hang out with friends. I didn’t much like high school, and I was not at all sad to leave Cape Girardeau, but that last summer was pretty cool.

Snoozeville

The cats are putting out very powerful sleep vibrations today. It's all I can do to keep my eyes open and focus on the work I need to get done. But when I have 17 pounds of Eddie snoring/purring on my lap and Wally asleep on my desk and Chloe snoring in the background . . . well, it's hard to stay awake.

It would take a miracle

And apparently we got one. The microwave that the Ferals were storing in our upstairs foyer for going on 18 months is now gone. Amazing.

Kent thinks—and I agree—that they waited until the foyer they do use was cleaned up from the reconstruction debris before deigning to remove their microwave from the other foyer. I don’t much care. I am just glad it’s gone because (a) that’s not a storage area, (b) it wasn’t clean and rodents can be a problem, and (c) it was trashy-ugly.