Wendi Kali's photostream

Wendi Kali's photostream on Flickr.

Even though I'm taking a break from facebook I'll still be uploading photos to my Flickr account. I uploaded a few this evening so come on over and check them out! Feel free to add me as a contact if you have a Flickr account, as well!

Happy 4th everyone!

Taking A Break From Facebook

It seems as though just about everyone has a facebook page.  If you don’t have a facebook page then you’re out of the loop, so to speak.  People look at you funny when you tell them you’re not on facebook.  “What do you mean you’re not on facebook? I thought everyone was on facebook?  How will we be able to be friends?  How will I be able to invite you to my parties?”  It’s sort of like the way people look at you when you tell them you don’t watch television.  To briefly digress, I haven’t watched it in quite sometime now and honestly wouldn’t know any of the television or movie stars if they walked past me on the street. 

In my circles of ‘friends’ I can only think of two people who don’t have a facebook page.  Just about every company out there wants you to ‘Like’ them on facebook.  The site has literally begun to take over the world.  It’s a mass marketers dream come true.  Where else can you reach 500 million people at once?  Yes, facebook has 500 million users these days.  They hold personal information and demographics of 500 million people in this world.  Is that not scary information in itself?

A few days ago I decided to deactivate my facebook account for a bit.  No more 'pokes', 'friend requests', 'game requests', 'private messages', 'wall posts', 'status updates' or 'event invites'.  I’d been thinking about it for a while and making note of how it affects me both in positive and negative ways.  I’ve also noticed how it affects those around me and it seems like there are way more negatives then there are positives associated with being on the site.  My decision to deactivate my account has stemmed from quite a few reasons. 

For instance, just yesterday I was talking to someone about taking a break from the site when she said that she’s only on there to see photos of her nieces and nephews and other family members.  I suddenly felt very sad for her.  When did we stop sharing photos with each other via email or snail mail?   Personal interactions with family members and friends have fallen to the way side because people are too ‘busy’ with work and stuff yet we find time to upload photos to facebook?  It just doesn’t make much sense to me. 

I’m not saying I haven’t been guilty of it myself.  I’ve just finally realized the affect it's had on me and felt the disconnection.  The site has become sort of a substitute for relationships.  It seems like facebook has changed my way of thinking and I have forgotten that there are other ways to communicate.  In all honesty, I used to think that if I posted it on facebook then all of my friends would know at once what’s happening and in a way that’s true but it’s not true of everyone and it’s awfully impersonal.  I miss those days when friends would email me, call me or sit and have coffee with me to catch up on our lives.  I miss doing the same with them.

Also, the anxiety and stress that I get from being on facebook just isn’t worth it.  I felt a need to check the news feed constantly.  I couldn’t miss anything.  It was like I was somehow obligated to keep up with my friend’s status updates because, well, they were my friends.  Then, when people “unfriended” me it would be a hit to my self-esteem and I not only wanted to know who “unfriended” me but why.  Was it something I said, did, didn’t do?  At one point someone blocked me and when I discovered that fact, after the drama of asking some other friends if they could still see them, I was upset about it for days. 

What if I wanted to ‘unfriend’ someone?  This in itself created anxiety because I didn’t want to start any drama and was it really important because it was facebook, for crying out loud!  It’s just a web site.  It’s not real life.  It’s a virtual life.  If I knew that person in real life would we be friends or would we just be acquaintances?  If we were acquaintances would I share all of this information with them?  Do they think they know me after looking at my facebook page?  Do I think I know them after looking at there’s? 

Holy crap.  When did the definition of ‘friend’ get lost, too?

Then there’s the way it creates more anxiety around intimate relationships.  Aside from the fact that everyone instantly knows when you’ve committed to someone or have just broken up with someone you have to deal with either remaining ‘friends’ on facebook or ‘unfriending’ each other.

When my last girlfriend broke up with me we were friends on facebook for a little while after the break up.  We hid each other but ended up going to each other’s page just to see what was happening.  I felt like a stalker when I went to her page.  Like I was peeking in on a private conversation, one that didn’t include me.  I fully admit that I was looking for answers that, at the time, I felt I deserved.  Looking back on it now, it was all crazy making and incredibly unhealthy.  How easy it was for me to go there with that access and sort of disconnect. 

Finally she ended up “unfriending” me so we could both get on with our lives.  It is called healing.  I do believe that sometimes you need that distance when a relationship ends.  As hard as it is to have, specially when you’re the one being broken up with, it’s important that you have it.  It’s what we used to do before the days of facebook.  Remember those days?

Then there’s the anxiety created when I see photos of friends hanging out somewhere where I wasn’t invited and I wonder why I wasn’t invited and are we still friends and if we’re still friends then why am I not there in those photos and on, and on, and on.  Envy, jealousy, feeling left out or feeling like the fool are not feelings I want to encounter and deal with that often.  I don’t even want to admit that I feel them but I do.  I know there’s more to the story that I’m not seeing but all I see are photos of friends hanging out and having a good time without me and that’s where my mind goes instantly.  It’s crazy making, I tell you!

So, I decided that it was time to take a break from the crazy making.  When something that is my choice to do takes up that much of my time, energy and emotions in a negative way then I also have the choice to stop doing it.  To step back from it and regain my own ideas and work on deepening the friendships that I have with those who really do want to be friends with me and visa versa. 

I'll most likely be blogging about my life after facebook, in case you're curious.  I'm interested in seeing how different it will be and whether or not I'll miss it.  It's been two and a half days since I deactivated my account and so far, I feel much more at peace.   I've gotten much more reading and writing done, as well. I think this will be a good thing for me and my creativity.

Job Changes & Being Appreciated

©Wendi Kali 2011

It’s been a crazy few weeks, to say the least.  The Universe seemed to have other plans for me as far as jobs go and I admit that I’m happy that it did.  Originally, I was hoping to get another part-time job to fill in where FedEx couldn’t at the moment then I moved to finding a full-time job back in the accounting field in order to take advantage of my education and background to eventually just get out of debt. 

Then a few weeks ago one of the companies that I worked for while I was doing warehouse temp work towards the beginning of the year called me out of the blue and asked me if I’d be willing to work for them on an ‘on call’ basis.  I told them I’d be happy to and explained my job hunting situation.  The next day they called me back and offered me a full-time lead position doing Quality Assurance type work making more per hour then what FedEx was giving me, fully paid health benefits for myself and my son, and a four tens work week on swing shift.  They said they really valued my work ethic.  After mulling it over that following weekend I went in and accepted their offer.  The next day I gave my notice at FedEx and for the last couple of weeks I’ve been working three jobs.  Doing QA work during the day, FedEx in the evening and washing dogs at a friends grooming shop Saturday mornings.  Needless to say, it’s been an exhausting couple of weeks so today I am giving myself permission to hold down the couch and just be.

Yesterday I walked out of the FedEx building for the last time.  Chances are, I won’t be back.  As I worked my last shift yesterday I seemed to be in this state of taking it all in.  Savoring those things about the job that I enjoyed and simply making a note of those things that I didn’t so much enjoy.  I’ll miss working with the aircraft and the equipment and some of the people.  Plus, I have to say, it felt like such a butch type job, too.  Pushing and pulling around huge containers that weighed thousands of pounds, marshalling aircraft into the gates, driving the tugs and beltloaders around the tarmac, operating the loaders…it was a really cool job!  But, the reality of it is, my body is not what it used to be and the constant state of pain while trying to keep up with the young guys I was working with was, quite honestly, stressing me out.  I’m not sure that I could have continued with it for as long as I needed to while waiting for something full-time to open up. 

It was my third time working there and I feel a bit of guilt for that for some strange reason.  The company invested money for me to train and retrain those three times I left and came back, but, on the other hand, it’s their internal requirement to do so and it was their choice to take me back all those times.  So, my guilt is my own, really. 

When I went back to work for the company where I’m now working full-time everyone was so happy to see me and welcomed me back with open arms.  It’s a small, family owned company that treats its employees like family.  The owners even came over and gave me a welcome back hug.  Although I'm a bit sad to leave FedEx, I am very happy with my decision and am very much looking forward to not only having a full-time job again but also having a set schedule with three day weekends, the ability to pay my bills and have time during the day to write or shoot photographs again. 

It’s not a career but it’s a job at a company I can be happy with for who knows how long.  They appreciate me and I think, when it comes down to it, that’s what I both want and need right now.

Identity Crisis

No.  Not the DC Comic.  The actual psychological term.  Identity crisis.  The definition of which can be found here on Wikipedia.

"“Those who fail to achieve a cohesive identity-who experience an identity crisis-will exhibit a confusion of roles,” ^[1] not knowing who they are, where they belong, or where they want to go. This sort of unresolved crisis leaves individuals struggling to “find themselves.”"

This is exactly where I am these days and, at 41 years of age, should not be.  This is where you are when you're getting ready to graduate high school and trying to figure out what to major in.  Right?!  It's an adolescent issue.  Not something you try and figure out at 41.  Needless to say, I'm frustrated with it.

I understand how I got here.  With both parents struggling with addiction while doing their best to raise me I had to mature at a faster rate then most kids my age in order to take care of them.  I grew into the caretaker and peacemaker role.  I was the 'perfect' child in the dysfunctional family model.

Shortly after graduating from high school I moved from one home to another, from my adopted Mother's to my birth Mother's and shortly after that move I joined the military.  A year and a half later I was married to a man who I saw as needing to be taken care of and pregnant with my son, who would, of course, also need to be taken care of.  It's been my role in this life.  Caretaker of others.

It's also been a bit of a curse because I allowed it to take over and drown out any sort of identity I may have wanted to create for myself or find for myself.  It was my way of getting others to love me and accept me.  So, here I sit at 41 years of age wondering what it's all about and where I'm supposed to go from here.  Sitting on a mountain of debt from my own schooling and my son's, among other things, with no interest in a career and 'struggling to find myself' while I look at those around me and try desperately not to compare myself to them.  But it's hard not to do.  It's hard not to compare myself to them and it often times has me feeling like a failure.  I admit it.  This is me opening the festering wound to expose to the world.  This, in itself, creates all kinds of anxiety within relationships of all kinds, as well, causing this horribly dark circle of thinking to continue. 

On the other hand, this is an incredible opportunity for growth.  An opportunity for me to look at those things that I have accomplished in my life, change the programming in my head and focus on the positive, as they say.

Currently, I'm working a part-time job and have an offer for another part-time job and a full-time job.  None of them are 'careers' nor anything to be tremendously proud of, like a doctor or a lawyer or what-not.  They're just jobs.  But the company at the full-time job really wants me to come back and work for them again.  It's not the first time they've tried to get me to work for them permanently.  They say they really value my work ethic.  It's not a career but those are positive things to look at.

Honestly, at this point, I don't even know what a career would look like for me.  I'm not even sure why I'm putting this all out there or what it is I'm looking for, but, there you have it.  My current struggle with life.  An identity crisis at age 41. 

Maybe in December when I turn 42 the answer to life will magically appear.  That is the answer to life, you know.  42.  (Read the Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy.)  Hmmm...we'll see.

My Greatest Accomplishment

My son, around age 10, and me.

Twenty-one years and fourteen days ago I gave birth to my amazing and wonderful son.  I was still a child myself at only twenty years of age.  Even though it was many years ago, I still remember that day like it was yesterday.  Thankfully, the memories of the physical pain have finally subsided.

I remember waking up that morning feeling like I was going to pop. Sleep was difficult at that point because trying to get comfortable with a belly that large was next to impossible.  Regardless of the discomfort, I thoroughly enjoyed being pregnant because it was the closest and most in tune I felt to my body.  I felt powerful, too.  I was creating a new human life inside of me.  Me!   

On the way to my check-up that morning I knew I wasn't ready to have my son just yet.  He was a day overdue but due dates were never really accurate, unless you were planning on a C-section, which I was not.  I had prepared for natural childbirth by going to Lamaze classes and had done a bit of research on the different ways to give birth.  Ideally, I wanted to have a water birth but knowing I was going to give birth to him at the Naval Hospital I knew the chances of that actually happening were nil. 

As I sat in the exam room waiting for the doctor I remember thinking about what I was going to do that day when I returned home.  It was an early appointment so I had the entire day ahead of me to get some things done and, hopefully, get a nap in.  Making a new human was exhausting.

Finally the doctor came in and asked me some questions before the examination.  After a quick examination he grabbed my chart and on his way out the door said, “I hope you wanted June 1^st as the birthday because it’s time to have that baby.” 

At first my brain didn’t fully comprehend what he had just said so I sat there for a few moments in a state of shock.  Did he say I was going to have the baby today?  But I’m not having contractions!  My water didn’t break!  Wait!  What?!

About an hour later I found myself hooked up to a machine that was pumping pitocin into me to get the labor process started.  Honestly, I was freaked out.  I wasn’t ready to be in labor.  It didn’t matter how many Lamaze classes I had taken or how much I was dilated, my brain was not ready!  To add to my fear the pitocin pump was started on the maximum to really kick things into gear.  Those first waves of contractions were brutal, to say the least! 

Somewhere in the middle of the 8 hours of labor I asked for some pain meds to get me through the rest of it.  Unfortunately, they didn’t really do much for me.  I think I may have cursed under my breath a few times (or out loud) and almost broke my son’s Father’s shoulder by gripping it so hard during contractions.  I was not having fun.

Finally when it came time to push, my doctor noticed that my blood pressure had shot through the roof so he decided to put me on magnesium sulfate to get it back under control.   I was tired, in tons of pain and just wanted to get it over with.  So, I started pushing before they told me to.  It was an incredibly strange feeling because it wasn’t as if I had decided to start pushing, I just started pushing.  My body was in complete control of itself and was just doing what came naturally.  It was ready to be done, too!

After only a few big pushes and some heavy breathing to try and slow the pushing down a bit, I heard my son’s voice for the very first time.  Even though he was crying, it was music to my ears.  Soon after the cord was cut he was placed on my chest and I held him so very close while I counted all of his fingers and toes and wondered in the glory of what had just happened.  I remember thinking, “Wow.  I created this perfect little human.” 

He is my greatest accomplishment in this life.  We’ve grown up together and, even though I made many parenting mistakes along the way, I have learned the most about life through him and through being his parent.  I am humbled and grateful for everything he’s taught me and I look forward to watching him grow and live his own life.

What Every Butch Should Know

Sinclair Sexsmith
Photo by Syd London

Sinclair Sexsmith who is a writer, performer, student and teacher of sex, gender & relationships, posted on her blog this morning an amazing piece that she wrote titled Unsolicited Advice to a New Butch (aka The Butch Poem).

I first heard this piece when she read it at the Butch Voices Conference here in Portland last year and was blown away.  Once the conference was over I sent her an email asking her if she'd posted it anywhere because I kept feeling the need to read and and re-read it and share it with everyone I know.  At the time, she was still working on refining it and wasn't quite ready to completely share it with the world so I respectfully waited for this day.

I am so pleased to share this piece with you now!

Please, take a few moments to click over to her blog and read this wonderful and amazing piece.  Whether you're Butch or Femme or neither or both, I promise that you won't regret it.

On Being Butch In The Business World

This morning as I was catching up on some blog reading, I came across a post over on Butch Wonders that got me thinking about being Butch in the business world.  There’s a part in the post where she talks about her supervisor telling her that she will never attain a position of power if she “keeps dressing like a dude”. 

In other words, Butches will never attain positions of power within business unless they conform to the current idea of gender stereotypes. 

Why?!  I mean, really!  I understand that the business world is still part of the ‘old boys’ network and that women are still struggling to reach equality with men.  I understand that’s where we are but what I don’t understand is why that is where we are.  Still.  It’s 2011, not 1950!  How much longer is it going to take for us, as humans, to evolve past this antiquated way of thinking?

Just because I dress in men's clothes, I cannot ever attain a position of power. Does that sentence even make sense to you? If it does, please explain it to me.  It doesn’t matter how smart I am or how well I do my job or how passionate I am about my job, what matters most to you are the clothes I choose to wear to work?  Why is it my job to make you feel comfortable? 

Talk about the ultimate in co-dependency! 

It’s your job to figure out how to be comfortable with me and it’s my job to figure out how to be comfortable with myself.  It works both ways, too, because it's also my job to figure out how to be comfortable with you.  My stuff is my stuff and your stuff is your stuff.

The gender binary is out dated.  Download the latest version and move on.  You just might end up with a business dynamo at the helm of your business ship who will take you to the depths of success you never even thought was possible regardless of what sort of clothes they, or you, come to work in.

Of course, the ‘you’s in the statements above were not aimed at ‘you’, the reader.  Unless you do still think this way, then yes, I am talkin’ to you.