"Baby Boomer Undergrad"

     I have never considered myself to be a “Baby Boomer”.  My birth was not the result of a war, not a global war, anyway.  I have discovered that I am, at least statistically, a Baby Boomer, since I was born between the years of 1946-1964 (and no, I will not resort to age specificity). 

     There were a number of significant wars during my parents’ lifetime.  My father, however, never served in the military.  I was actually more of a change of life baby, or a second childhood baby, or the result of those strong maternal tugs that stubbornly adhere themselves to a woman’s heart, the way a comfortable dress with static cling adheres to her body.   Both are difficult to ignore.

      Multitudes of Baby Boomers are returning to college, for a number of reasons. Some, like me, want to finish what was started in their youth. Many are seeking a career change, possibly motivated by job loss.   Others seek personal enrichment. Intellectual stimulation seems to be favored over leisurely retirement.

     My son’s girlfriend has indicated that there are an abundance of older students in her college. Many of them are endeavoring to achieve some lofty goals.  In my school, there are a small number, and I rarely see them.  However, I did run into one of my son’s 20-something friends. Obviously surprised, he inquired of me what I was doing there.  Coincidentally, we have the same major and an equal number of credits.  We may even be in the same graduating class.  I didn't stop to think that he may have been embarrassed talking to me.  It did occur to me as he quickly excused himself once I started recommending professors...

"Help Wanted"

     Searching for a job online is somewhat similar to online dating.  I feel compelled to screen potential employers much as I would potential suitors.  
      Being the consummate spelling and grammar snob, I am immediately turned off by any errors in either, especially when they occur in employment ads.  For example, one company has numerous “oppenings”.  Another is seeking an "immargency" dispatcher.  One ad indicated that the person be skilled in "Microsoft Excell".   These companies should be looking to hire proofreaders!  Hey, that gives me an idea!  Maybe I can launch a career as a freelance proofreader!
    I have noticed errors in grammar also: experience is not "need",  salary depends on "Confident",  "Suggest customers of  promotions", great people "skill", great common sense required. My common sense dictates that I avoid these bogus ads.
     One ad for a particularly desirable position indicated that the candidate be "detailed" oriented.  I emailed them, diplomatically pointing out the error.  I suggested that it surely must be a "test" for the potential candidate, while  I simultaneously, and subtly, highlighted my own attention to detail. I wanted this particular job, and  I thought my letter would surely get someone's attention.  It didn't.
     My professor would consider the following to be "agism": "looking for someone who is young".  Isn’t that against the law?
    One ad, for a receptionist, included a requirement that you can “think off your feet". A receptionist where-at a brothel?   I don't think I want to find out...

  

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"Full Circle"

     I attended my first Psychology of Aging class recently.  Initially, it seems like a class I will enjoy.  The first question our Professor asked was what age we, as individuals, feel is old, and why.  I knew immediately that this was going to be painful.  The ages mentioned ranged from 60 (OUCH!), as indicated by one naive youngster, to 85, as indicated by...yours truly.  The youngster’s reasoning was that age 60 is when people begin to qualify for Senior Citizen discounts.  My reasoning, which I unabashedly related to the class, is that since I am flirting with 60, I don’t consider it old.  (Yes, that comment caused much laughter among the youngsters.)  Additionally, I know many people in their eighties who are still quite spry!  They are active, optimistic, and sharp as a tack!  I find them inspirational.

     The temperature was all of 10 degrees when I went to school.  I was dressed as if I were preparing to run the Iditarod. I appeared to be carrying about 25 extra pounds from the numerous layers I was sporting.      

     Additionally, my apartment is freezing.  I took a ride to Target so that I could do some shopping and warm up simultaneously.  I couldn’t find a sweater or a pair of boots in the place, but there were racks upon racks of bathing suits. Hello?!?!? It’s January?!?!?  I wonder…if the stores continue to rush the seasons,  perhaps they will eventually come full circle, and wind up selling clothing in the appropriate time of year?!?!?

"Committed: Sometimes I Think I Should Be"

     So, I just trekked over to the college to purchase my textbook for class tonight. (You will note that “textbook” is singular!)  First of all, I exercised my right to be thrifty by renting my book instead of purchasing it, thereby saving myself $30.00.  That will help to compensate for the money I lost by withdrawing from Spanish.  (I told you I should be committed. By the way, does anyone want to buy a Spanish-English dictionary?)   

     Fortunately for me, being fickle isn’t a symptom of insanity.  Seriously, I have a valid reason for dropping that particular class.  (I know what you’re thinking-haven’t we heard this from you before?)  Well...yes.  But this is different, really.  I anticipate that I will be starting a new job soon, with what will be for me, a longer commute than I am accustomed to.  Considering I am so anal about my grades, I felt it would behoove me to take one class that I can excel in (Psychology of Aging-ya think?), rather than achieve mediocre grades in multiple classes.  Furthermore, I don’t want to overextend myself.  I will need full concentration to learn a new job.

      So I’m in line with all of the kiddies in the college book store.  Very apropos that the book I was holding was Psychology of Aging, while they had colorful socks, bubble gum, wild earrings, and, oh yeah, some textbooks.  I was actually quite embarrassed, and tried in futility to conceal mine.

      One of the older students in my Communications class had indicated that the students attending day classes were dressed as if they were in a fashion show. Could’ve fooled me!  That is, unless it was a “Fruit of the Loom” fashion show!

"Bedroom Eyes and Crying Eyes"

Your bedroom eyes caused my crying eyes

All because of our relationship’s demise.

To you, I wasn’t worth the effort it took,

Though you stole my love, much like a crook.

To those whom I love, I give my all

Almost from the very moment I fall.

Perhaps selfishness would prove to be

The way to everlasting love for me.

I’ve never experienced true love. It seems

For me, it’s just the stuff of dreams.

The one thing I desire most

Eludes me, like a vanishing ghost.

I find comfort in my solitude,

Though it requires effort not to brood.

I’m abandoning my love’s pursuit

The pain of love’s loss is far too acute.

"Choices"

     Life is about making choices.  Some choices are made from wisdom, some, folly.  Some choices are of certainty, some of naivete. Some are the result of love, some borne of rebelliousness. Some choices affect us for days or weeks, months or years, and some have a lifelong effect.  Our choices are something we must live with, as they result in consequences, positive as well as negative. 

     For many, wisdom is a reward of growing older, achieved through life experiences.  Occasionally, we are presented with an opportunity to make things right.  Personally, I am working towards a college degree now, in my fifties.  My choice is not solely about my education, though.  It is about my choice to let go of the past, and embrace the present-my present. 

     My sons are all adults now.  One of the most difficult things I have done in my life is to let them go.  I would prefer to keep them close to me always, if I could.  I realize, however, that they are entitled to live their own lives and make their own choices without my interference, unsolicited advice, or attempts to control them.  I have, therefore, made a conscious effort to build a life for myself, which entails learning, developing my own talents, doing things I enjoy, making new friends, and sustaining enduring friendships.  I see my sons when they are available, and conceal my disappointment when they are not.

     When I was younger, I was not so fortunate as to have a mother who was willing to make a similar effort.  I am determined to learn from the experience, and not emulate it.  My sons do not owe me anything, and that includes their time.  They did not enter into this world clutching an I.O.U. Yes, I spent my younger years raising them, doing without, and providing them with a home, necessities, some frivolities, and the best education we could afford to give them.  That was my choice, and my duty as a parent.  There is no “price tag” attached. Parents are not “contractors” who present their children with itemized bills once they reach adulthood. My sons are not indebted to me, as parenthood does not elicit compensation, emotional or otherwise.  I love them, and I did the best I could for them because of that love.

     I will always be here for my sons should they need me, and assist them in any way I can, if they ask.  But for now, I live my own life.  I possess a positive attitude, a sense of hope, an independent spirit, and a determination to hide from them (and myself) just how acutely I miss the little boys they once were.

"Before and After"

                                                            


      The job search is an ongoing cause for anxiety.  I am not pounding the pavement.  I am pounding on a keyboard, and my fingertips are developing calluses.  I am also bleary eyed from staring at the computer screen for hours on end.  Fingers crossed that I will find something soon...    
     With four months of unemployment under my belt, I am finally developing my own sense of rhythm, and adapting to the manner in which things are done now, in these technologically advanced times that we live in.  Prior to losing my job recently, the last time I looked for a job was nine years ago.  I bought a newspaper, looked in the classifieds for the appropriate job titles, obtained the fax and phones numbers, and faxed my resume to the prospective employer.  A few days later, I would call the Human Resources Department to  schedule an appointment for an interview.  The interview would go well (of course), and result in a second interview.  I would follow up, and then I would receive a job offer.  Additionally, the ratio of applications to job offers was much more in my favor at that time.  Things have certainly changed since 2004.  I am constantly adapting to new technology, and have submitted my resume to countless companies, without the use of a fax machine.  Today I had a meltdown because I was experiencing difficulty with my new scanner.  I managed to scan the document, a job application, but then I couldn't find it!  Knowing how technologically challenged I am, I started early.  If I didn't figure it out, I would still have had time to find a fax machine locally...
     Father time is not on my side either.  I therefore went online to search out hairstyles that are geared not only to "50-something" women, but also to job seekers.  They advise that one never goes on an interview with (gray) roots, as they age you.  (I guess I'll be coloring every three weeks going forward).  Additionally, I promptly went to the hairdresser and had four inches chopped off my long locks.  (I hate the new haircut).  I am not a fan of even moderately short hair, but I felt that a shorter cut would look more professional.  I have also invested in some more new duds, taking advantage of the end of season sales.  (I didn't go to this much trouble trying to land my last husband!)   I am becoming exhausted just writing all of this.  Calgon, take me away...