On Dating an Early Adopter

Creative Commons image from Flickr user Brad Frost

My boyfriend loves the latest. The latest what? Yes, exactly. The latest everything.

Health tracker?
     Yes.

iPhone?
     Yes.

Social media platform?
     Yes. (Don’t ask me why I still have a Foursquare account...I didn’t want it in the first place.)

Gaming system?
     Yes.

I, on the other hand, am not an early adopter (in my work life, yes; in my personal life, nope). Let’s just put it this way: I watch Matlock. I still have a TV/VHS player combo. I love vinyl albums. I still wear t-shirts from high school.  It took me 6 month, maybe even 9 months, to update my cell phone to the last operating system, and now you want me to do it again?!

I’m not saying I don’t enjoy and appreciate progress. I definitely do! It’s just that I don’t like unexpected problems popping up… Let me break it down.

Dangers:

• Bugs! Software glitches. Errors. Lost files. Frozen screens. Inaccurate navigation maps. No thanks. Not until you work the glitches out. See you in 3 years, new iOS. 
• Recalls. How annoying is it to just get started with something only to have to send it back for a replacement, repair, or refund? Why not just wait for the updated version to come out? 
• Money. New things are expensive (whether it’s financial or time to figure it out--both of which are very valuable). I’m the kind of person who doesn’t like to buy something without having the cash in hand, and I like knowing that what I’m buying is going to be valuable, useful, durable, and something I’ll appreciate for a long time. Sometimes these new technology pieces are just fads. I wait it out. 
• I drop things. I'm not proud of it. New things tend to be fragile. See previous bullet point about things being expensive. 
• My boyfriend often tells me “You should start using this” or “Why aren’t you on this?” or “I think you’d really like this” or “If you had this then you could just do ….” Very considerate, but just because he likes something doesn’t mean I’m going to like it. Plus, I’m stubborn sometimes. 
• I’m trying to simplify, reduce clutter, and appreciate what I already have. Why add another device to the pile, or another app to juggle or waste more memory? 

Benefits:

• He helps me know what the latest thing is so I know what the heck I’m reading about on Mashable. 
• I get to enjoy the benefits of new technology without having to deal with having it myself. Want to try out this app? No problem, I’ll just use his phone/tablet/television/all-the-things to learn my skills so that by the time I update/new purchase whatever it is I’m actually capable of using it right away! 
• He and the technology developers (I suppose they get some credit here) get all the bugs worked out by the time I work up the energy or desire to update my technology. Fewer annoying glitches! 
• It all balances out and eventually I stop being stubborn if I feel like the technology is actually something I could/should use. 
• He gets really excited, and I love seeing him get really excited. Enthusiasm is attractive. 

So, while we don’t exactly have the same approach to this aspect of life, it all seems to work out. How about you? What's your take on early adoption? What about times when you and your partner's differences compliment each other?

Sometimes No Plan is a Good Plan

I only like good surprises. (Pretty obvious, right?) The problem with surprises, however, is that you don't know whether they're good surprises or bad surprises until you're through them. Let me explain.

I'm a planner. For a variety of reasons, I like knowing what to generally expect and when to expect it. I'm a fan of knowing the plan and, for the most part, sticking with it. (Logical instances where this comes in handy: knowing where/when I can eat with my special dietary needs; knowing where a bathroom is and when I might encounter the next one...helloooo long, desolate road trip routes; knowing where I'll lay my head at the end of the day; knowing that I'm saving/working toward something; having approximate knowledge of what the weather will be in order to dress accordingly; and more).

Here’s the deal: Life doesn't always cooperate with us planners. Sudden storms may pop up and, while they are difficult to drive through, ultimately the destination is worth the stress of getting there (and so is the stuff we learned/felt/saw along the way). Sometimes we planners need to trust those around us (who haven't necessarily always known the next step, and still somehow managed to be successful in life) that we'll be fine; we'll get there, and we'll have a few adventures along the way.

Author’s note: I'm still working on this...which means I still plan away, but do my best to roll with the punches.

Confessions of a Former Teenager

If you ever want to feel young at heart, I have decided that all you need to do is spend extended amounts of time with your immediate family. I recently returned from a wonderful ten-day visit to my parents’ home where I was joined by all five of my sisters and, for the first time in years, no husbands or kids! Now, I love my family and we love being around each other so much that we are usually planning our next visit before the current visit has even ended, but this time around, without husbands to distract us, I realized that I am not entirely sure that my family realizes who I am these days. An act as simple as putting my own dishes away after dinner elicited the strongest reactions.

“GASP! GAH! What?! Why is Jill loading the dishwasher?!”

Oh, right. Because I never did the dishes WHEN I WAS FOURTEEN.

Everything from going to bed before midnight to not buying an expensive pair of pants I really wanted caused my sisters to choke on whatever gum they were chewing at the time. As the week went on I really had to wonder- just how bad of a teenager had I been?

Pretty bad.

Granted, I was never arrested and any actual illegal acts were kept for special occasions, but that’s about all that can be said for my friends and I.

Not too long ago I was asked to help out with my church’s youth group. For the past month these delightful young things have almost daily made me want to hop on a plane to Texas, hunt out the poor, abused adults who at one time attempted to do for me what I am striving to do for these girls today, and apologize. Unfortunately, that would take far too much time and involve hunting down far too many teachers, mentors and leaders of my past who I am sure are still questioning whether I ever made it to adulthood. I suppose all I can do, then, is marvel at the Universe’s ability to dish out my comeuppance all these years later…

Deep down inside, I’m sure that my family realizes that I am no longer that teenager and am instead a 28-year-old who will soon be a mother of my own child, but I suppose I can’t begrudge them their decade-long adjustment period to the New Jill. Heck, even I fought for a ridiculous amount of time before I finally admitted to myself that I just don’t get Justin Bieber. (Now is the moment I thank my lucky stars that have yet to jump on the Twitter train so I can’t be blasted by his five billion and three Twitter followers. Phew!) If that isn’t a sign of adulthood, I’m not sure what is.

I recently encountered one of those picture quotes that are so ubiquitous on Facebook these days. “I’m 30 but I still feel like I’m 20.” it said. “Until I hang out with 20 year olds…then I’m like, nope never mind. I’m 30.”

It’s like they could read my mind or something. My name (Jill) may mean “forever child” according to almost every baby name book out there, but for the first time in quite a while I am ready to abandon the quest for the fountain of youth and declare that this particular definition of who I am is an honorary title rather than a literal description of my life.

So, all of you out there wondering if the youngsters in your life are ever going to make it through…just hang in there. We all usually come around in the end. If you need an extra boost along the way, however, just let me know- I’ll send you my Mom’s number and y’all can commiserate. 

Screen-Free Week: A Pledge

A couple of months ago, I got a smart phone. And it is great. But I kind of always have this nagging feeling that it has taken over my life, and I haven't quite figured out what to do about it.

The other night I was reading an article on Power of Moms about Screen Free Week, which is next week, April 29th-May 5th. My daughter isn't old enough to have any screen time really, but I started thinking about my own screen time, and suddenly I really wanted to participate. At first I thought, "But I can't do that, because I don't really watch things on TV (just on Netflix and Hulu) and I need my phone and computer for . . ." I started thinking about the things I actually NEED to use my screens for, and I realized that compared to the number of things I actually use them for, the number is small.

For screen-free week, kids are asked to give up ALL recreational screen time. They are allowed to use the computer when it's necessary for their homework assignments, and that's it.  My husband said he would go no screen with me, but his job relies very heavily on using a computer, so he'll just eliminate all extraneous screen use. For me, that's a little squishier, so I'm setting some specific limits according to the things that are "needs," sort of.

1. I can keep this blog running by checking once in the morning to make sure posts go up, and once in the evening to make sure posts are scheduled for the next day. I will probably ask one of the other contributors to take care of the blog promotion via facebook and pinterest. I should limit this time to half an hour or less total for the day.
2. I can send picture messages of CB to her grandparents, else they will suffer serious withdrawals. Other pictures and videos I want to take of her need to be done with my camera to keep my phone from being a constant temptation in my hand.
3. I can check my email once a day to make sure I don't miss anything time-sensitive and essential, and I can reply to things that fall into those categories. 
4. I can answer text messages, but not initiate long text conversations just because I'm bored. 

Here are some of the things I want to do during the week (which I am listing now so I won't suffer withdrawals and wonder what to do with my life.

• Organize my closet and ditch the clothes I no longer wear because they are from my freshman year of college.
• Use the fabric I've been saving and sew myself a bag from one of the bags I have pinned on pinterest (print before the week begins). 
• Make the Mother's Day presents I've been wanting to make for my mom and mother-in-law.
• Go to the library and check out books for myself and CB.
• Start a new book to fill the hole left by my recently finished Malcolm Gladwell book.
• Cook something new and exciting.
• Finish getting the spare room ready for our home-stay Korean student, who will be here in a week.
• Go for lots of walks.
• Listen to more music and podcasts while working on things (rather than sticking the TV on in the background.) 
• Finish/start my spring cleaning.
• Spend time at the park with my husband and baby.

When I finish, I'm going to write a post about it, so look forward to that. And if you want to join me, you'd better tell me now before I unplug! 

Silence

Too many women in too many countries

speak the same language of silence.

My grandmother was always silent, always aggrieved

Only her husband had the cosmic right (or so it was said)

to speak and be heard.

They say it is different now.

(After all, I am always vocal and my grandmother

thinks I talk too much)

But sometimes I wonder.

When a woman shares her thoughts, as some women do,

graciously, it is allowed.

When a woman fights for power, as all women would like

to, quietly or loudly, it is questioned.

And yet, there must be freedom — if we are to speak

And yes, there must be power — if we are to be heard.

And when we have both (freedom and power) let us now be

understood.

We seek only to give words to those who cannot speak

(too many women in too many countries)

I seek to forget the sorrows of my grandmother's silence.

Anasuya Sengupta

Guest Post, Lis: No Quick Fixes

Another lovely guest post from Miri's sister-in-law, Lis:


We made a goal a couple weeks ago (I made it and my husband went along with it) to have a home-cooked meal every night and to exercise at least three times that week. We actually do this quite frequently, but strangely enough, it was harder when I made a goal to do it than when we just do it.

It seems like a goal is harder to keep up with than a habit. It's starting to become a habit for me to go to the gym a couple times a week, and we were already cooking at home a lot; but when I forced myself to do it, I found that I kind of pushed back against myself.

I think goals are harder because they're a change from the normal, and people generally are very resistant to change and to having to do something new. When it's just a normal habit, it's a lot easier. When someone (even ourselves) makes us do something, we don't want to. We want to do things when we want to.

So I decided I need to be careful about my goals in the future--just decide I want to do them, but not set too specific boundaries. That way I won't be forcing myself against my own will and won't be disappointed if I don't accomplish the goal. It sounds counter-intuitive, but it makes for a much less stressful week.

I think the word "goal" is like the word "diet"--it now has a slightly negative connotation (as in people don't want to think about the stress of reaching their goals). We need to have a lifestyle change, not a one-time fix. The trick is getting from goal to habit. Thoughts are very powerful, and if I want to change, I need to think about it and decide to be the person I want to be, not just do the actions.

Be Welcoming

Well friends, after a long absence, I'm back, and writing to you from the southern tip of Texas.


I wasn't very excited to move down here. My new husband is working for the Teach for America Corps, and he was assigned to the Rio Grande Valley mere days before we started dating. It's not really where I would have picked, although I suppose with 70 degree weather in January and a half hour to the beach, it isn't all bad. (However, I'm still not a big fan of Mexican food. I'm sorry.)


The day after we got here, we went to church, and several people came and introduced themselves. We even got a dinner invite from this amazing family (which was great, because the only food we had in the house was some spaghetti that came with a wedding gift, and all of our cooking supplies were still in boxes).


I'm always taken aback by how welcoming some people can be. I have a hard time reaching out to people because I feel shy, but so many wonderful people just scooped us up into their circle immediately, and I felt about a thousand times better about being here, despite the number of tarantula stories we got over dinner. No matter how many concerts make it down here or how far we have to go for sushi, there are wonderful, kind people around me and they have willingly allowed me into their homes and opened their hearts to me without knowing me at all. How can I complain about that?


So this week, there was another new family. I made a point to introduce myself after the meetings. "I was new last week," I said with a big smile. "Welcome. You're going to love it."

Things Change, Jo

I just went to see the opera Little Women by Mark Adamo. It's one of my favorite stories, and I loved seeing it done in a new way.

I've always loved and identified with Jo March, although I thought it was because she was a tomboy who liked to write. I've never thought of myself when I saw the way Jo avoids change - until I watched this version. 

I realized as I watched the opera that I am more like Jo in this way than in any other. I hated leaving high school, having roommates and siblings move out or get married, graduating from college, moving to Indiana - because all of these things meant something would never be the same. Ever. With each change, I lamented how perfect things had been before and wondered why things had to change, why people had to leave, why I had to move on. Then eventually, I'd adjust to the change and believe things were perfect again until the next adjustment. Ultimately, I think the anticipation of change is worse than change itself.

I've been thinking about this even more than usual lately. I'm graduating in December, getting married a week later, and moving to another new state a week or so after that. I'd be lying if I said there hadn't been breakdowns. I've panicked about the move. I'm sad to be leaving Indiana and the friends I've made here, even though I can't wait for my relationship to stop being a long distance one. I'm overwhelmed when I think about going through the process of changing my name, even though I'm excited to do it. I think about how this will change the way I celebrate holidays and wonder what will end up changing about the way I do things on a day to day basis. In so many ways, it's both a great adventure and a terrifying jolt out of the comfortable, steady life I'm constantly trying to establish for myself.

I think if life let me have my way, I would stay in one place with my friends and family gathered around me in my little life, the way Jo wanted to. "We are perfect as we are!" I rail, just as Jo did throughout this opera. But it just wouldn't be true. Things change, and really I wouldn't want them to stay the same forever. I grow, I learn, and my life gets more interesting through change. And even though I always fear change will make it worse, just as often, it makes my life better. And when it doesn't immediately, I adapt, and eventually it becomes better because I make it so.  I can cope with change. I'm grateful for change.

Just don't expect me to admit it too often.

Lesson Learned: Miri Lets Go

A few years ago I went through a period of missing many of my college friends, and being really frustrated with the fluid state of relationships that occurs in Provo. I'd had some really good, really close guy friends, who had then gotten married and vanished from my life. Even though we'd never had any romantic involvement, they'd cut off all contact with me--and some other mutual friends--when they got engaged, as though they felt that they couldn't be friends with me anymore. 


This didn't make me feel very good. For one thing, I began to feel as though my friendship with these guys had just been a placeholder relationship, that they were using me to fill a space in between girlfriends. For another, I just really missed their company. Most of these relationships were actually very short as relationships go--about the length of a semester, on average--but because they involved a lot of loooong conversations, often until early hours of the morning, we'd gotten to know each other really well, and they'd come to be pretty important to me. 


I had a hard time with this for a while. I wrote some whiny blog posts and complained to my girlfriends, lamenting my situation, denouncing the awkwardness of BYU's male/female dynamics and blaming it for my predicament. (I have a slight tendency toward the dramatic in situations like these... I feel things very strongly.)


And then one day I stumbled across a quote that really struck me, and I wrote the following:

"That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet." --Emily Dickinson

I read this quote on my friend Alanna's Facebook profile, and suddenly I felt very silly for being so upset. Most things about life are temporary. That's just something we all have to deal with. So when things change in our lives, when people move on, we should be grateful for the time that we had with them, the things we learned, the memories that we'll always have... instead of being depressed that we can't go back to the way things were. If we could always go back to the way things were, we probably would, because people tend to cling to the familiar. But then we'd miss out on so much of what's waiting for us down the road; and when you look at it in retrospect, you can see that the things that you didn't know were waiting for you are usually just as sweet as the things you had to leave behind to get there.

So this is my lesson learned: That we are meant to experience life, not capture it.

People come into our lives, and then some of them leave. Sometimes we don't know why. But the nature of life is change, and no one can avoid it. Instead of being regretful about the loss of something we love, instead of letting that whole chapter become tainted with negative feelings, we should cherish our memories and be grateful for having had the experience.

Rock Bottom

"Isn’t it the moment of most profound doubt that gives birth to new certainties? Perhaps hopelessness is the very soil that nourishes human hope; perhaps one could never find sense in life without first experiencing its absurdity."
--Vaclav Havel

View from the Bottom of a Well, courtesy of clickykbd on flickr

Sometimes getting to rock bottom is what enables you to finally take a step that you've been needing to take for a long time. It takes a lot less courage to make a big change when you having nothing left to lose, and sometimes maybe that's life's way of helping us out. When you're at the bottom, there's nowhere to go but up.

Listen to Your Own Advice

Maybe you've noticed I've been preoccupied with change this week. I thought it was because there are some changes being made to this blog very soon (all very good changes, don't worry), but today I learned differently.

I have a difficult choice to make. I got a job offer. I wasn't surprised by the offer so much as the timing and my gut reaction to the offer. So now I have to decide what to do and it, quite frankly, scares the crap out of me. And yet I've been blogging to you this week about change. How change is good "if it is in the right direction." Not two days ago, I wrote this:

Personally, I really make an effort to be a more positive person and it's a tough thing. But, when all else fails, I look at the problem or the approaching change or even the lack of change when I know one is sorely needed and I tell myself that it's temporary. My entire life will not be defined by the events that happened during my 15th year or my 26th year. Change can be hard, but with the right attitude, it doesn't have to be.

I am not retracting anything I've said, just pointing out that things can change, usually when you don't expect them to and it is so very hard to remember your own advice. I knew I needed a change, I have even been hoping for an opportunity just like this one that has presented itself, and I'm still struggling. Shouldn't it be easy to accept the things I've been trying to attain? This should be the easiest decision ever, but it means that so many parts of my life will change. It's scary. I guess all I can do is try to make the choice that I think will make me happiest and hope that choice is taking me in the right direction.

So, trust yourselves, Lovely Readers. Listen to the advice you give others and maybe check to make sure it's not something you need to hear for yourself. Give yourself the credit you deserve and maybe I'll try to start doing the same thing.

"There is nothing wrong with change,

if it is in the right direction."

Winston Churchill

Changes

I came across this article while perusing the internets, 30 Days to a Happier Life. It's a short guide (nine steps) taken from a book, The First 30 Days by author Ariane de Bonvoisin, that is meant to help you adapt better to change. In the article, de Bonvoisin says, "Change is the one constant in all our lives.... And learning to embrace it is the most valuable tool in helping you love your life more."

I hate change and I used to be very bad at dealing with it. I was never good at it when I was younger then there was a year in high school when things were constantly changing and a lot of hard stuff happened. Looking back, I think I pretended to be fine with things till I could no longer stand it then I just got angry. Because of that year, my mom still holds off as long as possible to deliver difficult news to me and she generally is the one to tell me, not my dad or sister, it has to come from her. I love that she is still protective of me like that, but I have long since learned how to deal with change and hard times in a healthier way.

Having shared that, it takes a lot of hard work. It takes constant reminders to be positive, to focus on an end goal, to look at the bigger picture. I like that this article and the nine steps outlined in it are all essentially saying that to deal with change, you must be optimistic. You have to think positively about yourself, your support system and your new situation, whatever it may be.

Personally, I really make an effort to be a more positive person and it's a tough thing. But, when all else fails, I look at the problem or the approaching change or even the lack of change when I know one is sorely needed and I tell myself that it's temporary. My entire life will not be defined by the events that happened during my 15th year or my 26th year. Change can be hard, but with the right attitude, it doesn't have to be.