Almost One Year...

...since I embarked on being self-employed. And in the process, I have completely re-imagined who I am, how I do it, and why. I thought I was just going to be doing the same work but with an inconsistent flow of money and no benefits. The flow of money is inconsistent, that's certain. Some larger companies have Net 90 payment terms and it is no fun waiting that long to get paid. But it has forced me to get a little more grown-up about how I handle my money. And having an AR is kind-of like having savings. Kind of. But health insurance can be bought and right now, the retirement funds that have been matched for years by a company contribution are down the toilet (I am feeling a lot better about that 10% penalty I paid last year on my 401k withdrawal). But I was not prepared for was the level of satisfaction, confidence and pure joy I was going to get from this new arrangement. Oh yeah, and the money's better.

I am not tooting my horn. I was pushed, shoved really, into this arrangement. I doubted that I could do it or that the clients would come. But, as it happens when you are doing what you should be doing, the work kept coming, clients were happy, they told other people, key people noticed, gave me a shot, liked me, sent me more work; I had no time to look for a job. I already had one.

I have a mentor who has been invaluable to me this first year. After a brief in-person meeting he decided that "I got it". And he started sending me work, and offering criticism and encouragement. I realized that I had never received criticism that was helpful. I was inspired by his trust and confidence in me, I got better, I am still getting better. He's passionate about what he does, and while he is world-renowned for his proposal management skills, his best skill is inspiring others to do their best work. I am very lucky to have him in my corner.

I still have a lot to learn about how to be self-employed. I really need an accountant. But on August 23, 2011 I will be celebrating my first year as Routh Consulting and looking forward to many more.

On Sewing and Being Self-Employed

Next week marks six months to the day since I lost my job, had a minor panic attack and embarked into a new world of self-employment. I had fantasized about taking the leap and discussed it with friends who had already made the jump; but to be perfectly honest, if I hadn't been shoved out of the nest, I may have never done it. It became very clear within a week of looking for work that I would have plenty of it, just not how I thought. I have moved into a house that affords me a proper office and I hope to continue to be very busy in it. I could go on and on about this chapter of my life, and maybe I will in a future post. I am learning a lot about myself, what I do well and not-so-well, and how to achieve some balance because I may be working a little too much. Which leads me to the next part...

Oh sewing, who knew I loved you so? Why did I ever leave you? After a 1o year split my sewing machine and I are happily re-united thanks to my brilliant sewing teacher Alexia Abegg at Stitch Sewing School. We are in our final weeks of Sewing 101 and I can't say enough about her skill and patience as a teacher. I was a quite a prolific sewer at one point in my life but never learned proper finishing and pattern following skills. I have thoroughly enjoyed the process, the projects and my fellow classmates. Here's an apron we made a couple of weeks ago. I whipped up curtains with my Grandmother last weekend and am working on a sewing circle at my house in March. And I have a little idea brewing to build some sewing community in my neighborhood.

The New Third Door

I love Jane Lynch. Her role in Best in Show as a lesbian dog trainer is on my all time favorites list. My love for her has moved me to try and watch Glee a few times. I made it through one full episode, and even though I was on the computer for most of the show, I found it difficult to watch. This is a show about high school and it feels like a show about high school. Enough said.
So I had a mild, "not for me" reaction to the show.

But then, one evening I happened to stumble across this Highway To Hell bit. Please, do not show-choir-sanitize the songs of the band that gave us Big Balls and You Shook Me All Night Long. I made it approximately thirty-seconds and retreated in horror. ACDC belongs cranked up in the back seat of a Camaro in the high school parking lot or at the Planetarium laser show in all of its fierce, Bon Scott & Angus Young glory.

Then the unthinkable happened. They messed with the funk. Bad. They really, really messed with it. Don't believe me? just listen. I get it that the show is fun and that the kids are super-talented and it it has some well-written dialogue. But this is a funk-travesty and those Glee producers got no respect for the funkology. We need to send them to Funk University, so they can learn proper respect and how to give up the funk (hint, it's not with show choirs and auto-tune). I hear that they also butchered Chaka Khan and James Brown on this episode, but I can't bear to look or listen any further.

When George Clinton asked us "Would you trade your funk for what's behind the third door?", he was already asking us about our white bread, strip mall, fast-food, auto-tuner mentality. Congrats Glee, you're the new third door. Thanks, but I'll keep my funk uncut. Now I am going to have to go deep into"If You Don't Like the Effects, Don't Produce the Cause", in order to recover.

Your Tax Dollars At Work

Finding ovarian cancer early means a survival rate of 60-90%, except that we don't know how to find it early…yet.

My mom participated in some early research that didn't contribute to her survival, but hopefully moved us closer to an effective screening tool and more survivors. The news in this article is just a blip on today’s newsfeed, but this is huge, my friends, huge.

Survival rates at the current late-stage detection are less than 30%. And for everyone that loved my mom, that percent equals a whole person. Every year, it equals 15,000 whole people; 10,000 of those people could still be here if their cancer had been detected earlier.

The bulk of this research, and its continuation, is being federally funded. If you wonder what our federal government is doing for us... well, they are doing stuff like this. Making sure we have more mommies, grandmas and crazy aunts.

Love your Neighbor

In case you haven't heard, we had a flood.
























If you weren't here it's a challenge to explain what it was like. Friends and family from all over have asked me to describe it and it's hard to explain.

I have one snapshot: Sitting in my dry, relatively unaffected house, on the sunshiny day after the rains, I am watching continuous flood coverage on the the news. While providing an aerial view of Bellevue homes affected, the helicopter finds two horses standing in what used to be a field, now a lake. They are up to their neck in water and surrounded for as far as you can see by water. They keep returning to this shot and the newscasters are silent. What do you say?
Thirty minutes later. Finally, boats come. You can't talk to horses. encourage them to follow you, or hang on. Boats scare them. This doesn't look good. I have to leave the room, I can't take it. When I come back, they have somehow gotten the horses to cooperate and they are on higher ground. I breathe a sigh of relief.
And then I realize, so many helpless animals were trapped and didn't get saved. So many people, who sat huddled Saturday night, not knowing if anyone would come.

I am overwhelmed, helpless, and heartbroken. It's how a lot of us who didn't lose anything felt. It's why you see so many acts of kindness. The only thing you can do with that knot in your gut and that lump in your throat is to offer your help. We are trying to save ourselves. Let us help.

A lot of folks have said it better than I could, with words and pictures alike.

Video
the rain, and more rain
then, after the flood I love the guy in his "Jesus, that's my final answer" t-shirt.
The Opryland Hotel, now.

Pics
Channel 4's photo albums on the flood

Blogs
my friend Kidd
the widely distributed We Are Nashville from Section 303

If you live somewhere else and you want to help. Here's a few ways you can do that:

Give to the Red Cross, I have had my doubts about them in the past, but they have been amazing.

Hands On Nashville, has single-handedly organized almost all the volunteers in Nashville, in coordination with the Mayor's Office of Emergency Management. Giving them money means that they can invest in the infrastructure and systems to coordinate and organize. That has made a huge difference in our response efforts.

For a comprehensive list, go here.

City House, Country House

I met up with Rebekah at City House, where she is the pastry chef extraordinaire. City House is an amazing restaurant in historic Germantown (which always makes me want to call it City Haus). The interior is a beautifully renovated house and former art studio of Alan LeQuire. The exposed brick walls, wooden beams and two rustic wood fired-ovens warm the modern clean lines and stainless-steel kitchen.































If you haven't had a meal there yet, you must do so immediately. Here's what's on the menu tomorrow (warning: it's a whole-lotta pig, they just got a whole one):

Sunday

January 24, 2010

Pork Snacks

Pork Rib Salad, Pickles, Onions, Celery, Buttermilk Dressing
Head Cheese, Cabbage, Horseradish
Crispy Pig Ears Milanese, Caper Lemon Butter
Bologna & Pimento Cheese Sandwich
Country Fried Pork Biscuits, White Gravy

Other Snacks:

Boiled Peanuts
Brussels Sprout Salad, Miracle Whip, Red Onion, Peanuts & Raisins
Aaron’s Wings
Smoked Sunburst Trout, Corn Cakes, Sour Cream
Rock Shrimp Cocktail, Saltines

Pizza

Kitchen Pie
Margherita Pizza, House Made Mozzarella
Sausage & Potato Mozzarella
Cannellini Bean, Ricotta, Grana, Garlic, Oregano
Chick Pea, Pecorino, Chilies, Back Fat
San Marzano Tomato, Anchovy, Radicchio, Parsley, Celery, Garum
Prosciutto Cotto, Ricotta, Lemon

Secondo

Pork Meatballs, Tomato Ragu, Grana Padano, Garlic Toast
Porchetta, Fennel, Red Onion, Parsley, Lemon
Delta Catfish, Cornmeal Crust, Cauliflower, Pesto, Green Olives

Hungry yet?

Oh, yeah, and dessert. That's a secret. You'll just have to go and see. Let's just say that there will be homemade gelato and there will be chocolate.

And then Rebekah and I had a crafty day at her country house in Springfield. We made things with ribbon and vintage fabrics. I got to look at many of her fiancee, Harry's paintings (I was a fan long before I knew him). Harry even braved the estrogen levels of a crafty meeting to hang with us and be our DJ. It was a lovely day.

crafty chicks gone wild

A few girls came over Saturday to make fascinators. Nobody was convinced that it would be easy, yet everyone left with a finished product. It was so fun, my only complaint is that we didn't have enough time. We also got scoop on Rebekah's wedding plans and Maggie's pregnancy (well, we know how that happened).

Give to Haiti, Not the Red Cross

The kind of poverty that Haitians live in is difficult for me to imagine. Struggling under the weight of so much suffering already, I feel helpless when looking at the damage and suffering of the recent earthquake.



Americans respond to these tragedies by giving, because we can give. It's a good thing. When these disasters occur, we are encouraged to give to the Red Cross, and many do. Sadly, the Red Cross is not the best choice to deliver more of your dollars to directly help individuals. Their administrative costs are disproportionately high and they don't commit the funds you send to direct aid of that disaster. Thinking about donating through Wyclef Jean's Charity, Yele? Think again. Last year they spent only 73% on programs and the rest on administrative costs.

The best choice for helping the people of Haiti are the groups who offer direct aid and have a demonstrated good stewardship of donated funds in the past, groups like Direct Relief International, that use 98% of their funds for direct aid programs. Or consider a local group like Haitian Health Foundation, which is already providing services in Haiti. There's a list of top-rated charities on Charity Navigator, which provides information about how charities are handling their finances and the kind of services they provide.

Give, but make an informed gift.

Awkward Family Photos

I don't think we are awkward enough.




















Awkward Family Photos .com is hard to top.

at the rock show, part 2

On Sunday night I attempted to stay up after 10:30 for the second consecutive evening. There are really only two reasons I would do this: 1) for the Old School Skate at Rivergate, or 2) to support the little rock star.
This time, it was the little rock star. He was selected to be in the Battle of the Bands at the Muse. We didn't know when he would go on, so I arrived at 8:30 and sat through many, very loud and marginally listenable groups.













Then my car (and 15 others) got towed. I paid the $85 and went back to the club.
Luke's band was last.
They rocked.














And then they won.


It was great.
Those kids are going places.

at the rock show, part 1

After a sweet and lovely Christmas/Anniversary party with family and friends, I ventured to stay out past 10:30pm. Scott and I went to the Cannery to see the big rock show. I was excited to see the Ettes and Scott was looking forward to Silversun Pickups. It was a great night for cool rock chicks from the Chrysse Hynde School of Rockstar Cool: Coco and Poni of the Ettes, Nikki from SSPU and Emma from Band of Skulls. I respect a girl who can scream and play guitar (or drums) and has great style.

We got there too late for Band of Skulls and I am sorry about that. Arriving shortly into the Ettes set, their energy made it through the worst sound mix ever. Silversun Pickups followed with, clearly, an entirely different sound situation. Their big sweeping, full sound with sweet little melodies and bending/driving guitars is impossible not to compare to Smashing Pumpkins. I could do without the 2 minute distortion-fests at the end of the songs. But, that's just me. It clearly appeals to a certain demographic.

I can tell I am getting old, because it's hard to stand at a show. My feet were killing me by the end of the show, even my most-comfortable but-still-cute boots didn't do the trick. The Silversun Super Fans inspired me to hang in there. They were, quite literally, jumping, fist pumping, screaming and yelling throughout the whole show.














Yay Super Fans.

Scott and I decided that we are OK with being the old folks at the show.
And I made it until 12:45am!

BTW, SSPU will be on Conan tonight.

Take it With You--The Ettes
Lazy Eye --Silversun Pickups
I Know What I Am --Band of Skulls

I'm Back Bitches

So many times in the last few weeks I have thought about resuming my blog. Save a few posts, I have contributed nothing to it this year. I would like to see myself be here more in 2010. I also have some goals to achieve in the next year and I think making a connection to blogging again might help me work toward them.
So, since October I have...

won a Halloween costume contest

turned 40 (and had a fun party)

made fascinators

and worked a lot.

I am looking forward to Christmas. My tree is trimmed and the presents are wrapped.

And, I love this girl.


She doesn't know how wonderful she is (yet).

Productive Waiting

Have to wait for copies? Take over the passport photo area (don't forget masks).

Amazing Vacation

I fell in love with this island, its rainforest, its beaches, its people, its history and I can't wait to go back. Next time, I will wear a mask on the plane ride home and avoid the nasty cold I brought back. And there will be a next time.

Death and Media Frenzy

Until I faced the death of someone who was a part of the fabric of my life,I thought I understood the impact of a death. I had lost my great-grandmother and my granpa, a childhood friend died from a drug overdose when we were 21. I knew what death and grief looked like, it was just a part of life. I did not understand the impact of a death. I didn't understand it until I did.

Everytime someone dies, there's at least one person, more likely a few people, whose lives will never, ever be OK without that person. There's grieving, there's healing, there's even gifts of strength and knowledge from the death of someone dear to us. But it is never OK that they are not here. Ever.

We had some celebrity deaths this week, it's true. It's sad when people who are a part of our culture and entertained us into happy little moments in our life are gone. These were young folks, too young to die. We need to know why. It is understandable. But the constant flux of media coverage cheapens the experience of those few people who will never be OK without that person. The nation doesn't really "grieve". The mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers and children and best friends grieve.

I'd like to think that we can respectfully hold a place of quiet and reserve for our own sadness and even greater place for those who truly grieve these losses. That we can celebrate a person's life without engaging in hero worship. I'm not insensitive to the need for the public to hear these stories and express their sadness, I would just hate for people to miss the point. I don't pretend to know what all of the points are but when I step away from the noise, a few come to mind:
-untreated mental illness is scary,real and sometimes fatal
-celebrities are actual people
-sufferring is real
-love your friends and family fiercely
-be nice, smile more
-take good care of yourself

Feel free to add your own.

The Bonnaroo Effect

I am not a festival girl. I don't like hippie scenes. I like to sleep in a bed. Even the word Bonnaroo bugs me a little. These are just a few of the reasons I would not be a likely bonnarooer. The Beastie Boys and a promise of bathrooms & showers in VIP camping made me a wary attendee. I had the best possible guide, my friend Scott, who is a Bonnaroo veteran. He told me scary stories about camping on the other side of the wall and even took me for a stroll down to the shakedown. We camped in style (he had all the gear, I made us some tasty treats) and we had the nicest neighbors. The weather held out and he gently reminded me to pace myself. Uh, yeah. Approximately 2 hours after we arrived the YYY's played; Then a little TVOTR and then my beloved Beastie Boys, who did not disappoint. I danced my ass off and smiled until my face hurt. I went to go explore on my own and take a little rest during the Phish show, because, well ...I don't like Phish. Then Public Enemy pretty much blew my mind by playing the entire It Takes A Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back album and then kept it going for another hour. How can you pace yourself? I was so excited at 3am I thought that I wouldn't be able to sleep.
On Saturday we slept in and hung around camp until 3 and headed up to the main stage to see Rodrigo Y Gabriela, who are brilliant, intense and beautiful. Scott introduced me to them about a week ago, and knowing his love of jam bands, I was afraid. But R & G are probably two of the most amazing musicians I have heard in a long time. I headed off on my own to hear Jenny Lewis. Jenny was great and a girl at the show passed out from heat exhaustion and layed on my bamboo mat for awhile. I was standing under my umbrella, wearing 70 sunscreen and drinking plenty of water. We met up with some friends and listened to Wilco, then the Mars Volta rocked our faces off before we headed back to camp to rest up and eat dinner before Bruce. My head was really hurting (I forgot decongestant) and I had not paced myself. I was exhausted. I was at the tired and pitiful 6-year old stage with a full-on tantrum in effect and poor Scott didn't know what to do with me. Bless his heart. Apparently, what I needed was to sleep for 11 hours straight. Right through Bruce, the insanely loud NIN set and 4 hours of moe. I did have some very interesting nearly-awake dreams.
Sunday morning I felt like a new woman, with just a little regret over missing NIN. Here's the thing though, you just can't see everybody you want: You get tired; You have to choose between three great shows; And sometimes, you just like where you are at that moment and you don't want to move. For example, I had every intention of enjoying Band of Horses and Andrew Bird on Sunday. But instead I saw Erikah Badu, because I wanted to shake my ass and my hoop. And then, we listened to Snoop Dogg while we took down the tent and had a "bring you leftovers" cookout with our camping neighbors (which turned out to be the best meal of the weekend). There was only one thing going on Sunday evening, Phish. Now, I don't hate Phish. I just don't get it. But, I really wanted to participate and enjoy. While watching the crowd, I can't help but think of Dave Chappelle's White People Can't Dance bit. It's OK that I am giggling to myself because most of the people around me are very, very high. It was close quarters where we were and I wanted to go play with my glow hoop on the edges of the crowd and I also still needed to get my brother a t-shirt, so I headed across the field to Centeroo. I discovered that Phish is very fun to hoop to. I normally hoop to booty-shaking music, but I could do lots of flowy, smooth hooping to Phish. Unfortunately, by the time I got to the shirt store they were packing up. My brother was dog-sitting for me and I said I would bring him a YYY's shirt. Crap. I looked around at the vendors that were still open with a weary heart; my brother was not into any of this hippie-hemp-tie-dye-schwag. Then I found Mexican Chocolate, or as I saw it, manna from heaven. I got him a beautiful Death Cab poster and one of their signature shirts. On my way back to camp to keep the poster safe from dirty hippies, I thought I would stop at the VIP schwag booth and beg for an extra t-shirt for my brother. No begging needed: door open, boxes of extra shirts, knocking and yelling, nobody home. Little brother got an official VIP shirt. Then I found Scott in the crowd and made it until the end of the show (did I mention that Phish shows are very, very long?).
I may have been a wary attendee in the beginning but by day two I was yelling Bonnaroo-hoo with everybody else and I might even consider going again next year. Sometimes I surprise myself.

A Little Bit Country

I have had a few breaks in the saga of too much work. My sweet friend Keme came from San Francisco to Tennessee for her Daddy's birthday. We had a little city-fun with friends in Nashville before heading out to Charlotte on Saturday. Keme's daddy, Charlie Bonnett (who I wrote about here), has a little junk store in Van Leer, TN and he likes to say "well...I'm just country". He's one of my favorite people. It was nice to stop thinking about knowledge management, campaigns and best practices and have dinner at the Tri-County Farmer, where there was live bluegrass and all the fried okra you can eat. The only decisions were sweet or un-sweet? white gravy or brown gravy? Keme's momma got us up to date on all the gossip and I made room for cobbler.

There's A Reason I Haven't Posted...

...and the main one is that this has been my view for many hours,most days.
I always expect a little ramp-up time when I have a new job and this one is no different. Just when I felt like I was getting to a plateau, I got sick last week. So, just a little bit longer and I think I will find a good work/life balance. I have had a few good adventures lately: namely the ecochic swap, were I scored some awesome items (more on that soon) and the slow food event at I Dream of Weenie, were I got down on some condiments. A certain sweet fella has cooked me a few meals that have made me question my own culinary ability. I am forcing myself to sit back and enjoy it rather than challenge him to a cook-off. And what better to celebrate mothers than with smoked meats.

The Lemonade is Delicious

I never would have wished to lose my job in November, or find out my boyfriend was engaged in some interesting extracurriculars. But in that brutal cleaning out (and it was brutal) new things came come in. Things better than I imagined, more than I would have bargained for, and much more than I feel I deserve. I am waking up excited about what I'm doing and grateful for a paycheck I still can't quite believe.
Please cue the violins and enter my dream man. I'm ready.

When Life Gives You Lemons

Life has been tough lately. I was laid off from my state job in November. I ended my relationship in early December only to find out later that month he'd had another girlfriend for five months. These outside events have triggered some inside events that are shall I say... less than fun.
The job and the boy needed to go. I am clear on that. Knowing that hasn't made the transition smooth or less scary, but it has brought some clarity.
I believe some good things are in store for me. I also know that the growth (and it's associated pain) is not over. I have great support in many forms to get me through. As always, during these times, I have tremendous appreciation for my friends. My best friends, casual friends, online friends, my family: they carry me, listen to me, pray for me, and encourage me. I couldn't be more lucky to have them all.