Career motion and progress

"They change their climate, not their soul, who rush across the sea."
-- Horace


Straightforward blog today - what's happening with me.

I don't often worry too much about my career, I'm in a good position with a good company that pays well. I could have had significantly higher earnings, but I gave up a shot at partnership in my firm to scale down my responsibilities a bit and take that different definition of "success". So as long as I'm happy with my job, I don't have to worry much, and I'm well aware that puts me in an enviable position.

But I'm in indecisive mode, which is difficult as there is a big decision ahead of me. My current role within my company only lasts a year, officially. There are a few possibilities
- it might continue on exactly as it is, but that is probably the least likely. That would be a shame as I've liked my current role.
- there might be a new role in my current group doing different things but still in the same area. Some of those opportunities would be great, but other aspects might not be - a lot more paperwork and less actual training design or delivery.
- there might be a new role within training elsewhere in the organization, but still in Toronto. Interesting, but one of my biggest advantages right now is that I leverage a huge amount of experience in my field, and if I move around, I lose a lot of that.
- I could do what I'm currently doing, but for external training of our clients, rather than internal training of our people. Also interesting, but clients are more demanding and painful to work with than our staff. And I'd be working with people I didn't enjoy working with the last time I had to. But still, more interesting than many other options.
- I have been asked to think about applying to the UK on secondment for at least a year. Would be work similar to my current work, at least designing training, probably not nearly so much delivery. That would be ok, and certainly less draining, but the location change is a big deal.

So this last one is interesting to me. For those that don't know, I'm originally from the UK, but I've been in Canada for 9 years. I have roots here, but at the same time, I'm missing the development of my nephews and niece. My significant other has a standing offer to go work in Europe, that he is very interested in, so we could both move together.

It's just, I have a life here, and even though I still have lots of friends back in the UK, it would be tough to move back there, even if it is only short term. I'm also worried that if I come back here after a year, the job opportunities might not be as flexible as the number of things open to me right now.

I have to apply for the UK posting before the end of the month, and then, annoyingly missing the right timing completely, I am back in the UK for a holiday for 10 days in June. Then I'd be back to Canada for a few short weeks if I got the job, before returning to the UK in July. So all very rushed, from thinking I had a lot of time. Not to say there wouldn't be more opportunities, but it is definitely a tough decision.

Right now, I'm leaning towards going for it, but I need to talk it over with my boss here, she will be supportive of whatever I want to do, but I need to get her guidance on the various options out there. Obviously if I got offered the job, I still have the chance to back out, but I want to have a little more information before I apply.

Good old Horace, from the 1st century BC, put it quite well though, if I decide to travel, it shouldn't be to change me. One of the things that I thought when I moved to Canada was that it was a great opportunity for a fresh start. Well, it would have been, but I brought myself along for the journey...


What currently has my attention?

My work of course. No seriously...The UK election finally finished today, with a new Prime Minister being declared, after Gordon Brown resigned.

What is currently annoying me?

Somehow I managed to forget to move things over to my other bag on the way out the door this morning. So I'm at work without a bunch of stuff I need, including all my money and cards...

What am I looking forward to?

Lost tonight :) Getting close to the end, and it's getting exciting.

What did I learn today?

I learnt a bunch of (fairly) boring stuff that is all job related, but you don't want to hear that. What I did learn is that the busiest stations in the world are all in Japan, and some of them average 3 million people plus through them per day. I can't even imagine that number of people streaming through one place - the busiest airport in the world doesn't have a tenth of that number of people per day.

Poetry in Motion

A poem is never finished, only abandoned.

Paul Valéry

Something different for you all today, about time I got creative for a change:

Background noise

Two tone, next door's extractor fan

A high whir masking an intricate low gurgle

A ding of an elevator out in the hall

One for up, two for down

The never ending highway buzz

Time of day, gauged by speed and volume

Low pitched roar, it rained last night

Trash tumbling down garbage chute

The death rattle of expired product

Distant music starts

A morning alarm, quickly stilled

Other people's lives, background noise in mine

My life, like my apartment, insulated

Some creeps through

When my space is silent

Yet how simple to ignore

When my noise begins.

till next time,

Jo

What currently has my attention?

I mentioned the UK election a couple of blogs ago. I watched the results come in late into the night on Thursday, on BBC News online, and the aftermath, with no clear winner, is as interesting as the lead-up.

What is currently annoying me?

My lack of sleep. I go to bed increasingly earlier just to wake up earlier still.

What am I looking forward to?

Going out to see friends for dinner. I guess you could call it a dinner party. Far beyond time I get a social event.

What did I learn today?

Goodbye came from God bye, which came from God be with you.

Relationship motion and progress Part II

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments: Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds

William Shakespeare

So the last we heard, our heroine was in her happily ever after. Well when it was good it was very very good. At the end of the school year, which I had missed with glandular fever, I was busy applying for jobs. Simon would be staying in the region, but the way the final year of the medical system worked, he would be rotating round a number of different hospitals in placements. We were confident that, whatever happened, our love would survive it.

I interviewed all around the country, I was looking for a very specific type of school, preferably a mixed sex part boarding part day school. There aren't hundreds of them, and the jobs are highly in demand. Where I really wanted to work, which was the school I was placed at in the training year, in Simon's home town, wasn't hiring math teachers. I got offered three jobs, and luckily one of them was reasonably close, about a couple of hour's drive from where Simon would be based. He moved back into shared accomodation in a hall of residence, which they allowed in the final year, because all of the travelling to hospital placements made it impractical to rent accomodation.

I bought a car over the summer, owning my own for the first time, an old volkswagen, reliable and cheap. I felt like a real adult finally, in love, with a job, transport, and freedom. By the time my glandular fever had really worn off, the summer was basically over, and it was time to move. Even though we had only been together in that house for a relatively short time, it felt like a special place, where our relationship had blossomed, and I was sorry to leave it. We did go back there a few months later, after the owner had moved back in, and we had to drop spare keys back. We found an excuse to recreate one of our deep kisses at the top of the stairs, with no observers, and that was our true goodbye to the place.

Two weeks before my job started, we took a trip up north for my birthday, to spend it with my family. Simon had never been to the north of England. His parents had inherited a house in France, and they spent holidays there, given his mother's family was there. There is a saying "It's grim up north", and there is a definite North/South divide in England. Not just the accent, it is generally poorer, with more factories, old abandoned mills, relics of the industrial age that once made the area one of the powerhouses of the world. It has a different feel to it. And Simon didn't really like it.

This was about the first time we had significantly disagreed on anything. We didn't fight about it, it was just my home, and really I had expected Simon to see the rugged beauty in the landscape, not as pretty as the areas he knew well, but with a charm of its own. I was disappointed by his reaction. But the introduction to the family as my boyfriend for the first time was more important. Just as I had met Simon's family before, when they had come to visit him at college, he had met mine. In fact, my brother was even going to the same college, so he knew him pretty well. (In an interesting parallel, Simon's sister was due to start at the same college in September - quite the family arrangement). My sister had stayed with me a few times, including in the last year, before Simon and I were officially an item, but when there was obvious tension and attraction in the air between us, and she's not a stupid girl. He hadn't talked to my parents much, but there was plenty of connection between him and my dad, as Simon intended to train as a family doctor, which is what my dad was. Unfortunately, he didn't really click with my mother. To this day I really don't know why, maybe she thought he wasn't good enough for me, I don't know. My family is pretty straightlaced, so it could be as simple as not appreciating the fact that we were sleeping together. It wasn't a huge deal, and since then my mum has done the same thing with the spouses of my brother and sister, but eventually they've worked it out. So probably this would be something that was worked through.

That was strike 2 for the visit being less than successful. (Yay me for a sports metaphor, even if it is about the most basic one!) Strike 3 was unfortunate. We all went to church together on the Sunday. Simon wasn't particularly religious, but he classed himself Catholic, like the majority of the French. Catholicism is less common in the North of England, and of course, that weekend, we'd chanced upon a sermon by the preacher about persecution of the Protestant church, and the illustrative example was Catholics burning martyrs at the stake. Perfect timing. Simon left church wondering what he'd walked into, and we did have an argument about that, basically because he was uncomfortable having his children ever be left where they would get anti-Catholic messages. Yes we were talking children already. I should stress, my parents aren't like that, but there is no doubt that if my children were left with them, they would go to that church. I can't really blame Simon for his reaction, it was possibly only the third time I'd heard such a sermon in my life, and we used to go to that same church every week my whole childhood. I sat mortified in the pew, offering up a silent prayer that the preacher would stop.

So not the best trip ever. There were definite hints of further problems we would have to deal with. But the two of us as a couple were stronger than ever. We hadn't shared a room that weekend, and when we got back down south, we made love in possibly the most passionate experience of my life. I thought I would explode from what I was feeling, and I'd never felt that connected or in love with Simon, or anyone, my whole life. Looking back with perspective, I'm not sure I've felt like that many times since, but that day, August 20th, 1996, was actually my one of my "secret phrases" in password verification for at least 10 years. Yeah, I'm a romantic at heart!

This isn't going to be a story of my (brief) career as a teacher. There's time enough for that if I continue blogging. I worked at that school for 2 years, and by the end of the second, I was certain that teaching was not the career for me. Through the 2 years, I lived in a property that was owned by the school and rented out to teachers. There were supposed to be 3 of us, but one never showed up, and I shared with the other girl. Possibly the messiest girl I have ever shared a house with, but again, not what this is about. She did teach me to play the guitar over the course of the two years, and for that I will always be thankful. Simon spent weekends with me, and breaks, and sometimes evenings he'd drive back. Sometimes I would stay with him, particularly if I had a long weekend and he was working, and I'd leave it up to the last possible moment to drive back, so I was at risk of falling asleep at the wheel, added to the fact I usually left my heart behind me. Sometimes I deliberately left it so late I'd have to get up early and drive in the morning.

When Simon had hospital placements, I'd visit him there, and hide out where I really wasn't supposed to be, with the other doctors in his building. His placements were usually short, and he didn't like them - he didn't want to be a hospital doctor, but a family doctor. Not that he didn't do well, he was very successful. By osmosis, and by helping him study, I learned more biology those years than I'd ever have a use for, and more than in having a doctor as a father. I remember some of it still, usually the useless stuff. But it was definitely stressful on Simon. At the end of that first year of me teaching full time, he had his final exams for his 5 year course, and he was stressed out of his mind. In a particularly stupid part of the UK system, his whole career essentially depended on his performance in his exams, spread over a 2 week period. As it approached, he put more on himself, and we fought through the stress, nothing serious, but it was magnified by his situation. A few weeks before the exams, he made me promise that I wouldn't leave him until his exams were over. I had no intention of letting him go, but he was having trouble getting through this, and I tried to support him as best I could.

Of course, he passed, and we celebrated. His parents came up for the graduation, and we had a really lovely time, on a beautiful summer's day, having tea after the ceremony in an orchard by a river. Now we both had careers. He was now a doctor, officially, and started the training on his speciality. With that being general practice, it meant rotation again through some other areas in hospitals, and then a placement with a family doctor. My summer, a lovely long holiday, I spent with Simon, who was working in 2 hospitals, in towns with little to do. I lazed around, not seeing him much because of the insane working hours of junior doctors, we made the most of our time together, and I started looking around for where I could move to other jobs, half seriously, but didn't get as far as the interview stages.

At the end of the summer, we took a trip to France, to stay at his parent's house there. They were going to be there shortly, to spend a month, and we'd be spending 2 weeks with them. We drove down, intending to make the trip in one day. Simon didn't love motorway driving, having just passed his test the year before, and not having a car to practice in, so I did most of the driving in England. Plus I knew my car, and it's idiosyncracies. It was an eventful journey. Again 3 strikes, this time against the car. It was pouring rain when we set off, which can happen any day in England. Of course, on a road in the middle of nowhere, in the pouring rain, one of the tyres went. The spare was underneath all of our suitcases, the back of the car packed full to bursting, and Simon had to change the tyre in a drenching downpour, with our bags by the side of the road. I loved him for it, as I sat inside the car. He was my hero in that moment, as he had been in others prior to that. But that was possibly the last time he was so clearly my knight. I still have a photograph of him in the rain that I got wet to take.

We'd lost some time, and we had a ferry to catch over to France. In the middle of a busy bridge over the Thames, with no stopping under any circumstances, strike two. The windscreen wiper ceased functioning, and in the rain we couldn't see where we were going. We had to drive down the bridge in a very scary situation, and then pull off to the side in an area that the police immediately asked us to move on. We pointed out we couldn't see to drive, but didn't get much sympathy. We had to wait for the roadside service to fix the wipers. More time lost. By this time, we were never going to catch the ferry that evening, and we had a bad tyre in the car. So we went via his parent's house, got a new tyre from a garage, and stayed there over night.

Simon wasn't happy. It was my car, and it had failed us. It would mean that instead of having 2 days to ourselves, we only had one in France before his parents arrived, and it annoyed him. This moodiness wasn't a pretty side of his character. But we got up the next morning, started early, rearranged the ferry, and crossed over into France. We had to switch ports, so we had a much longer drive in France. But it was a chance for us to see some more of France on the way down. On the drive along the French roads, strike 3 for the car. The oil light was broken, and it had a slow leak, and we pulled into a French mechanics to get more oil when we saw smoke. The mechanic, with Simon translating for me, told me the engine must be very good because it had been running dry for a while. Incidentally, the car didn't end up being put out of its misery for another 3 years, so the impression that it was on it's last legs isn't quite fair. A little more time lost, but we got there. The French house wasn't quite what I expected. It was in a little more worse shape than in the tales Simon had recounted, but then it was his home, more than his English house. And it was symbolic of his French half, to him at least.

I enjoyed my time there, at least the first half. I think there was some disapproval of me by the French, I guess they would have much preferred Simon marry French, but he wasn't at all interested in French girls. It all washed over me. But I was sick the second week, and it was a drag on the whole thing. Much as they had sympathy, I was holding back their holiday. So again, a little mar on what otherwise was a nice trip. When we got back home, we had a silly fight. I think we'd been cooped up together in a car for so long that we were both very frustrated. And there was probably an element of this being the last time we'd be able to spend extended time together, and it hadn't quite worked out as planned. But during the fight, families came up, and we sewed the seeds of many future arguments, neither of us feeling like each other's family was accepting of the other. For two people very close to their family, it's a tough place to be caught.

Then, I was into my second year at the school, and still not enjoying it. When my year started, we got to see each other a lot less. Simon's working hours meant he couldn't travel up to see me as much, even though he now could afford a car. It was much more reliable than mine, thankfully, but I didn't get to drive it, which also led to some fights. We'd now started talking more regularly of our future life together, and I'd even picked out a ring, a small but beautiful diamond in a twist setting. We'd walked past the jeweller's enough times that I knew Simon had picked up the hints of which one. It was going to be either two or four children - apparently with three then one often feels left out. My brother feels a little of that - he was my playmate until my little sister came along, and then he was the odd one out.

We were still in great shape as a couple though. Not without incident though. One day, we had a storming fight in the middle of the kitchen of my house. It was absolutely my fault, I can't remember what it was about, but I pushed it until I really got Simon mad. He pushed me, and I fell against the washing machine. It was the only time he ever was physical towards me, and he didn't mean it, but there was a split second where that safety I'd always felt in his presence vanished. He was amazingly apologetic, and I knew him well enough to know that wasn't him. I should add that he was never even the slightest bit violent towards me ever again. The incident is more important for what happened next.

As we made up, still both upset by what had happened, he proposed to me. I said no.

Looking back I can't believe his timing. I'd been dropping hints that I'd love to be his wife for months. Not at all subtle. He chose the aftermath of a big argument to propose. That wasn't what I wanted to remember, so I said no. I did it very clearly inviting him to propose again under more suitable circumstances.

It was a few weeks until he proposed again, and he did it in the house again, on his knee, and I said yes. We were in a good place once again, and all was right with the world. Not perfect, and it still wasn't my dream proposal, but we were good.

That year flashed by. By the end of the second of three terms, I had resigned from the school, and I left without another job to go to, which severely upset my mother. I spent the final term looking, and eventually settled on a job with the company I still work for. The job was back in the same city as Simon would be most of the year, although he'd still be rotating around hospitals.

The summer was going to be my last long summer holiday, nearly 3 months before the September intake at my company, plenty of time to get all those projects done that I was interested in. The day after the school term finished, a week before I had to move out of the school property into a house I was renting, we went to play a game of tennis. I managed to break my ankle, in a freak accident. It didn't feel broken, and I limped halfway home before I had to stop, and be carried. But, just as I had 2 years previously due to glandular fever, I would be spending another glorious summer mainly housebound.

It did give me chance to do two things. Study for my job - having failed in one career, I was determined to make this next one a success, and I read up for my professional exams (which would be 3 years to the qualification) over the summer to get a head start. Secondly, it gave me chance to plan our wedding. Given we both had gone to the same college, there was a beautiful little church literally across the street from the building we had both lived in during our first year at college. The bells woke me up every Sunday morning for a year. The reception would be in the college itself. And the date itself, the next summer. The rings had to be specially made, due to the twist setting of my engagement ring, my band would have to be indented to allow the two to fit together. Of course, I would spend longer finding a dress.

We took a holiday together. Down in a cute cottage in Cornwall, the couple who owned it, obviously a bit old-fashioned, assumed we were married. We did nothing to dissuade them, and we played at being married, in what was actually our first and only real vacation together just the two of us. It wasn't easy, with my ankle still healing, we'd planned it before I broke it, but we managed. Those 2 weeks, where we simulated marriage, are still the closest I've been.

What I didn't know was that summer was the beginning of the end. We were planning a wedding, but drifting further apart. Simon wasn't a self-starter, he needed me to motivate us to do things, and with me with a leg in cast, we didn't do much. He got bored on weekends, and started to resent it. When I started work, about a week after the cast came off, it got worse. The cracks were all so gradual that I didn't notice them infesting what we had built together. I was wrapped up in my job, determined not to be a failure. He was working hard, as all junior doctors do. I was in the social life of my new work, a lot of people (seventeen started the same day as me) all the same age, all working together, going through the same things, and we socialized a lot together. Because Simon was working a lot, he couldn't be much of a part of this. It was easier for him to behanging out with the other doctors while I was away, just like I hung out with the other teachers when he'd not been there, but now we were officially in the same place, our social lives started butting heads. So we marginalized them a bit, but I think both of us disliked having to give up something we had got a lot out of.

Simon had two placements to do, a psychology placement, and a general practice long placement. He decided to do his psychology placement in France, having an offer from a friend of his mother. I understood why, it was his chance to make sure he was still relevant in the French system, so that if we ever ended up moving there, which wasn't out of the question, he'd find it easier to find work. It was 6 weeks, and I couldn't go with him. He came back a bit different. I think he realized that he enjoyed that world, and I wouldn't fit easily into it. I tried to reassure him that I could, if that was what we both decided. We talked about working in other countries, and those conversations where were my desire to work abroad really sprang from. We convinced each other that we could do it.

His second placement, with a family doctor, I will give a prize to those who have seen this coming. Of course, he decided to do it with my father. They both got on well, and it was a great chance for them to bond further. It would be 2 months away from me, but it would be away from me regardless of what job placement he took, and there were so many benefits that could come from this. My family was very welcoming, at least on the surface. I got to go up to visit at weekends. Unfortunately, I got placed on an out of town assignment at work, and couldn't visit the first 2 weekends. By the time I got up there, it was a bit of a mess. Simon was getting on well with my father, but he really wasn't getting on with my mother. I tried to repair it as best I could, and it wasn't openly hostile, but it wasn't good.

When he finished, and came back to me, we were struggling. We'd have tough moments before though, and we could no doubt survive this one. I wasn't right, but I could have been. I think Simon was sincerely worried that I would become my mother. He thought that I'd changed in moving to my new job, and he was probably right. I had always been a success my entire life, and I had failed at making teaching my profession, I was determined to be a success at this new one. We were both no longer students, we were working professionals, and we were struggling to find the time to be the people we once were, and to connect that same way we had even when we were just the best of friends.

We still had our moments, but I don't remember them as clearly in that time, because there was far more trouble than before. Never did I lose my optimism though. This was still the love of my life, even if we were having issues, it was still the man I wanted to marry, to spend the rest of my life with, to have children with, and to grow old with. Once we adjusted, we would be fine.

The intimacy was affected though. We struggled to have that electric relationship in the bedroom we once had. Jealousy crept in too. Two of my friends were incredibly handsome guys. Not my type, and I only had eyes for Simon. Neither of them displayed any interest in me. Well, not then, anyway. But Simon always had body image issues, he was always battling not putting on too much weight, the same way I'd battled to not be underweight and be healthy. He had put on some weight the last year, stressed about his job, and whne I was working closely with fit guys, he felt insecure. I never gave him any reason, and I never cheated on him.

Perhaps though, the fact that I had cheated on someone else with him came back to haunt me. I had proved incapable of being faithful to Andrew while we were together, so maybe I would be unfaithful to him. I'm speculating here. I don't know all the details, when we got to talk about it after we had split, some things seemed less important.

I could feel us tearing apart by now, but it was a tear I still thought could be mended. Approaching the end of my first year in this new job, I had a set of important exams. That was where my focus was for a few weeks, and they would end 4 weeks before our wedding. In an incredibly bad move, I asked that Simon not split with me until my exams were over. I didn't feel it was a significant possibility, but I'd made the same promise to him. Instantly he made it, he felt trapped. He couldn't have the conversations he wanted about where we were going, and our wedding was looming up on him. Every day that went past, he got more and more frustrated with me, and couldn't tell me. I knew it was going wrong, but I knew we'd have time after my exams to talk it through.

My final exam was on a friday. On the Saturday, he broke up with me. I was in a state of shock. Everything was fixable, so I thought, how could we break up less than a month before our wedding without even talking it through. We used to know what each other was thinking and feeling, all the time. I now realized I didn't really know this guy. We had been getting more and more distant, still loving each other, but losing that connection that had made us the best of friends.

There was never anyone else. Neither of us were unfaithful to the other. We parted, still loving each other. We got to know each other while we were still growing up, in that period where we were really young adults, and over the course of that time, through finishing studying, getting jobs, having a life, we changed. Both of us weren't the people we were when we first met, those scared new college students with reassuring glances, or those friends with all the time in the world for each other, or those lovers who couldn't resist each other, or that new couple who would support each other's goals through thick and thin. Our personalities were very similar, both intelligent, both a little introverted, me a little less passive. Circumstances hit us, with some of our most valuable times hit by injury, or by bad decisions.

I came to realize that love isn't always enough. We didn't work enough on continuing our friendship, I think we both assumed that for a love that was built on a friendship, the one thing we didn't have to worry about was the friendship. But we took it for granted.

There isn't much to talk about in the ending of this relationship. We parted ways, we saw each other a number of times, still caring about each other, but by this time recognizing that we couldn't make it work. Except in my dreams. I don't remember my dreams very often, maybe once or twice a year, but I know I've dreamed about him many times in those years since. Time has reversed and it's shortly after we split, and we are giving it one more try, and it is all great, and then it fades again.

Within a couple of years, I was planning to come to North America. It would be a fresh start, and in those final weeks, it was one of my dreams that he told me I'd never reach for. In the moment of splitting up, it became a tangible way to show him that I could still achieve things. Thankfully it means a lot more to me to be here than a simple demonstrative act to someone who probably doesn't even remember it.

I'll wrap up the story for you in terms of what I know. He married a few years ago. To another doctor, I don't know her at all. He isn't in touch with the people I'm still in touch with in England, and I found out when I was removing all my information from the internet (another story there), and found in a search for my name, his name alongside mine, still intertwined in one existence, forever prolonged. I looked harder, and there isn't much on the net about him either, but I found the notification of his marriage in his old school magazine. I hadn't spoken to him for over 5 years, but I cried for a week.

He was my first true love, and my greatest. My current boyfriend knows all of this story, and knows how damaged I feel as a result. I'm constantly afraid that I will push someone away the way I pushed Simon away. I'm afraid of being left, the way I was left. No guy, except possibly the guy I marry and spend many years with, will ever be as good a friend as my college best friend. I've been messed up by guys too many times since to let them get that close that early on as he did.

But it is history. I have moved on, and I have made progress. I'm documenting this, as I have documented it in diaries before now, because it is good for me to reflect, and learn, and see the reality for what it was, not some rose -tinted spectacles. I don't consider it settling for me to be with a guy that doesn't mean exactly the same thing as Simon did, ultimately it wasn't right between us, and I need someone who means something different to me. I have that now, and time will tell whether that is right, as from the middle of the relationship it isn't possible to judge. I don't need someone who understands me backwards the way Simon did, I need someone who appreciates me, and loves me, and cares about my life, even if he doesn't understand the crazy person who lives it.

I disagree a little with the Shakespeare quote, but I think it goes to the essence of what happened between me and Simon. We changed as people, and our love didn't remain constant, it altered. We still loved each other, but it wasn't the romantic love we once had, and I"m thinking that's what Shakespeare was meaning.

Not all my blogs will be this long. I didn't want to split this story up any further though. I'm done with my brief sojourn into the past, and it has been helpful in pointing out to me some of my previous mistakes that I can try to avoid.

Finally, I think I realize that my progress as a person, and my changes from 18 to 24, weren't mirrored in my relationship progress, we were closest in the middle of that time, and either side we were moving together and moving apart. We were moving, but not progressing. That's why this is called relationship motion and progress, in this middle of a blog titled motion and progress.

So - next time, back to your regularly scheduled blogging...

Jo

What currently has my attention?

Matt Smith as Doctor Who. I know he isn't to everyone's taste, but I'm captivated by the new direction.

What is currently annoying me?

The fact I haven't got anything done this weekend.

What am I looking forward to?

Next weekend...

What did I learn today?

I learned that I need to be careful what I commit to. Blogs can be long long things if I never shut up.

Relationship motion and progress

It is impossible to love and be wise.

Francis Bacon

So one thing might dominate my blog from time to time. I'm not particularly good at relationships. Or they aren't good at me.

I said in the last post. "I may never have a family, but I have come to terms with that possibility." I worked out yesterday that's half true. I've come to terms with possibly never having a family, but I haven't given up trying. I'm not going to talk about roadblocks to that here and now, just suffice it to say there are some, and I'm working to make sure they aren't relationship ending, because that's a big fear.

I've found a guy I love, and who loves me, and we fight from time to time, and make up, and we have the ebbs and flows of a normal relationship. Sounds ok right? It's the best relationship I've been in for over 10 years, but I'm still a bit weighed down by history.

History I can talk about, especially when it is ancient history. I started dating at 15, had high school relationships, first time was a boy a bit older, and we went out for a few months, and then college came. I know it is a cliche, but college was short term relationships and a decent amount of casual sex. I'm not proud of it and not ashamed either. I was growing into myself and it was a fun time. That isn't really the story here.

On my first day at college, I met a guy. I was moving in, with the help of my parents, and we exchanged words on the stairs, both obviously brand new. He was kinda cute, but not really my type. But we were going to be neighbours, or near enough, for at least a year, and it was one of those connections. When you are in a completely unfamiliar scary place, knowing no-one, not knowing how you will make friends, if you will fit in, then those brief connections take on extra significance. You find yourself comforted by recognizing a familiar face at the first photograph, and then again at the queue for some admin forms or other. And by the end of the first week, we were friends. I knew he liked me, he knew I didn't feel the same for him, and it worked out. He had a circle of good friends, I had a circle, we had a few in common, and we stayed friends with each other. His name was Simon, and he was a med student.

I had a couple of boyfriends in that first year, and Simon was seeing someone for a while. Second year, the housing system is a lotto, and I lost big time. I ended up in the 5th worst room available, and we were in different buildings. We lost touch a bit, and he missed quite a bit of the year with glandular fever (mono). Then the 3rd year came, and the lotto reverses, and I ended up in the 5th best room, in a prime location. Funny sometimes when your location is the biggest driver of your popularity. I'm half serious, I still had the same friends, it was just the party ended up in my room more often than not. Anyway, the point is, that me and Simon were back to being neighbours again. I had a semi-serious relationship with another guy, Andrew, at the time, which had lasted the holidays between 2nd and 3rd year, miraculously. We were on and off through the 3rd year, and I dated some other guys too. When I look back I wonder how I ever managed to blend the pace of college work, the frenetic social life, and the lovely dalliances. But then I count the hours sleep, and look at how little study I actually did, and I figure it out.

Anyway, I got back a lot closer with Simon, he could make great cups of tea, which are crucial in a friend, and he needed access my computer for a psych project, so it was a mutually beneficial friendship. It grew big time when the first semester finished, as I had to stay on a couple of weeks to meet residency requirements. I'd taken 2 weeks out to travel to America, to visit an ex that had been on a 1 year abroad program during my first year. He'd held out the invitation for me to visit him at UVA, and I had never been to the US, so I jumped on it. So I had to make up time, and Simon had stayed on at the end of term because his parents were abroad, so it was easier to be somewhere that where he could eat cheap meals without having to make them...

I'd never had my best friend be a guy before that. I'd had good male friends, but never someone I was that close to. We spent every day together for 2 weeks, and talked about everything. Simon was half french, and bilingual, and we were very similar personalities. It was obvious he still liked me, but I'd just found a really really great friend, and I was careful not to lead him on in any way.

So, then the third year was close ending, way too soon for my liking, and I was stuck for what to do next. Up until then I'd seriously thought about entering academia, doing my PhD, and becoming a professor. I didn't enjoy my 3rd year courses nearly as much, and I'd made the decision in my head to do something else. I had 2 serious options, a place in a computer course, and a place in a teacher training course - both would last a year. I wasn't thinking seriously about entering the workforce just yet. I'd volunteered teaching all through high school, and I always dreamed of being a teacher, I just didn't know if I could do it. But in one of those, you'll regret it if you don't try it decisions, I went for the teacher training. And that's when the coincidences started happening.

I had no idea where I would live. Our college housed us for 3 years, but after that you were on your own. It was a small college in the university, so we didn't have many others staying on for a 4th year. Co-incidence number 1, the teaching hospital and the new college I would be doing teacher training in were in walking distance of each other in the same part of the city. Of course, Simon was a med student, which was a 5 year program, so he would be around another 2 years, even if also not housed. So we found ourselves in a similar situation, and agreed to share a house, along with another girl he knew from his med program.

So we had all this arranged, and then it was summer break, and we went back home for a bit. I was seeing Andrew again at this point, and he came and stayed with me for a couple of weeks, and I visited him, but we were on shaky ground at the start of the year, just not quite sure of how the next year would play out. Andrew was also sticking around, being an engineering student, his was a 4 year program, but he was across the other side of the city, so it didn't make sense for us to share a place. So I arrived at the house, at the start of my teacher training year, and Simon was already there. I knew he would be, his course started a few days before mine. But I opened the door, and he was walking down the stairs, and something happened. We'd known each other for 3 years, almost to the day, but only in that moment, did I look at him and think that I could really fall for this guy. He'd been working out big time over the summer, and lost a lot of weight, and looked very good. But he also had this confidence that went with it - not an arrogence, just more of a self-belief, and he carried himself very well. Nothing happened. Not then. I was wrestling with my feelings though, my best friend, and I was falling for him. And I'd be sharing a house for a year with him. Unfortunately, my resistance only lasted 3 days. I had a puncture in my bike tyre and was dragging it home, and he came half way met me and helped me back. We didn't sleep together, but we drank a bit and fooled around a bit, and I went to bed ashamed of myself.

I told Andrew, at least that I'd messed around behind his back, I didn't tell him who with, but that it wouldn't happen again. I don't think he ever thought it was Simon, we had been friends for a long time without me showing even a sliver of interest. But it got difficult. Every minor fight with Andrew, and Simon would be there in the next room, to talk to. I tried hard not to give in, but my relationship with Andrew wasn't surviving the separation, and I ended up seducing Simon in a weak moment. I'm not the slightest bit proud of that, but I did the right thing the next day and split with Andrew. He was a good guy, but not right for me. He's happily married, with 2 children, I still hear from mutual friends about him. If we hadn't split right then, he quite possibly would not have ended up dating his future wife, as they happened to meet that same year. So don't worry about him.

I was single again, but I really wasn't ready for another relationship. I'd been on and off with Simon for nearly 2 years, and barely single through college, I needed some time to be me, rather than dive straight into a heavy relationship with someone who was my best friend. So I backed away. It was convenient timing, because I was about to be placed in a school for my second term, so I'd be out of the house. Simon was a bit hurt and confused, but he understood and accepted it. And then coincidence number 2 struck. I got placed in a school in Simon's home town. I knew his parents reasonably well, and his sister had been up to visit him a few times, so we got on, so it was only natural that they invited me to occasional meals while I was working there. And then coincidence number 3. Simon had a bike/car collision (he was the cyclist) and it wasn't pretty. He smashed one of his front teeth and it went through his lip, leaving a nasty scar, and he was all over beaten up pretty badly. So of course he went home to recuperate for a while.

So I figure fate is pushing us together, but I'm still enjoying my life, getting to know myself a bit, and working in a school and really enjoying it, so I was still reluctant to start on a committed relationship. So we hung out some evenings and weekends, watched french films and I started to learn the language pretty well. It was yet another bonding experience. Then the school placement ended, and Simon was returning to college at about the same time, and we were back in the house. He said to me, and I can still hear the words, "You know we will end up together some day, so we may as well accept it and stop fighting it". I did, next day we were in a relationship, and it was everything and more I'd ever dreamed of. Unfortunately, I got glandular fever myself shortly after that, and spend a number of weeks in bed with a high fever. Cared for, of course, by my personal physician.

And now, unfortunately, I need to take a break. The story is not over, but it's a nice point to pause, happy memories of being with my best friend, in a job I enjoyed, with similar hopes and dreams. I had found my dream picture at age 22.

I promise I will finish this story.

Jo :)

What currently has my attention?

I know I can't afford it, and don't need it, but there is a gorgeous new lilac pebbled leather Coach shoulder bag that I saw yesterday, and looked up online today, that I can at least drool in the direction of.

What is currently annoying me?

Me. I'm annoying myself because I'm sick, and I hate my droopy self when i'm not well. That, and I'm annoyed that the one sports team I follow from England, Liverpool, are having about their worst ever season, and just narrowly lost out on their last chance to redeem it this afternoon.

What am I looking forward to?

The weekend. I need some time without the pressure of work over my head, that I can simply sleep though.

What did I learn today?

I learned that I shouldn't post on forums when I'm angry and sick. Well I already knew that , but I need someone to attach it to the thermometer, and the drug cabinet. So if I have to go with something brand new, I learned that eyestrain doesn't come from radiation from a computer screen, but from the fact that the eye works harder when you are focusing on closer objects. This makes sense to me, and I'm wondering why I took so many years to learn this. Maybe I once knew it and forgot.

Successful motion

There needs to be bolder thinking, ... on how to measure the quality of life of men and women in the work force. Currently, success is measured by material advancements. We need to readjust the definition of success to account for time outside of work and satisfaction of life, not just the dollars-and-cents bottom line.

Betty Friedan

Am I successful? That's a question I've asked myself many times. When I first asked myself this, it was based on academic success, which I will confess has always come easy to me. When I next asked myself, it was a few years later, and I had become part of the corporate workforce, rapid rising, well respected in my chosen career, and with high earnings potential. Yet I didn't have a family, and that jarred a bit, because when I'd imagined my life when I was younger, it was always as a mother. In addition to other roles, definitely, I somehow balanced a great career with a stable home life and 3 great children. So how could I see myself as successful when there was something I had always wanted missing. Yet maybe, I thought, all that is really missing is time. I was still youngish, and nothing was out of my reach. Two years ago, I realized that this laissez-faire attitude to the rest of my life, and a dedication to my work above all else, was ensuring that my success would only ever be one-dimensional.

Maybe I realized it too late, but I've been fortunate enough that I can step off the upward slope at my work, into a place with a far more gradual slope, doing a job I enjoy, working hard, but not slaving away. And I can start to pay attention to the rest of me. I have redefined what means success for me, and it is definitely not all about money. I may never have a family, but I have come to terms with that possibility. What I refused to accept was that I needed to trade the middle part of my life for comfort and luxury in retirement. So I'm still working at it, but I now see a successful person more as someone who has managed to live a rich and fulfilling life, and you don't need money to do that.

What I do need is energy, and for some reason, I've been short of it the last year or so. I think if you plotted my overall energy levels on a graph, it would be a downward trend for most of my life. Not a steep fall off, but just a gradual falling away of my life force. I've been lacking in mental, social and physical stimulation, and that I'm going to put an end to. Easier said than done, for sure, but at least I have identified the issues, and now I can begin to manage them.

Physically, I've been working out for a couple of weeks on a regular basis. I'm unfit, although I'm underweight most of the time. Fortunately, exercise stimulates my appetite, so I've been eating better since I started working out. Long may it last.

Socially, I haven't worked out yet. I need to push myself back into social situations more than I am right now. I'll let you know how that goes.

And mentally, I'm struggling the most with how to tackle. I need something to really challenge me, and I've got aI feeling my brain is composting slowly. I need a big project that I can wrap myself up in, but I haven't found anything that suits my situation yet. Maybe this is my goal for the next week or so - to find something to challenge myself with.

Anyway, that's it for today. 2 posts in 2 days - I have to give myself room for my blogging to deteriorate over time, so it's nice that I've started out strong.

Later,

Jo

What currently has my attention?

Today was a music day, and I went looking for some new things I might like

what I found:

"Set the fire to the third bar" by Snow Patrol and Martha Wainwright

"Stop the music" by the Pipettes

"The room" by the Twilight Sad

What is currently annoying me?

My sofa. We badly need a new one, but I can't seem to drag us out to shop for one. I love shopping, but I hate furniture shopping. Maybe too many lost in ikea traumas, or the fact that it always takes up the whole day, but I rarely find something I fall in love with.

What am I looking forward to?

Summer. I know, I look forward to random things. But it is a really beautiful day today, except that it is a little too cool to get maximum enjoyment out of it. I would love to have a HOT day so I can bask in the sun, which I haven't done in so long a time.

What did I learn today?

I learnt that the human body temperature can vary as much as 1 degree (f) over the course of a day from it's high to it's low. How I learnt it, is random enough to talk about - I was coaching a friend through some issues they were having with a stats class, and at the end of it all we were puzzling through how someone could take a sample of temperatures and get the wrong answer. So in reading up about human body temperatures, I learned a lot about how they can change through the day.