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The reason my boss asked me if I was giving my two weeks’ notice is because she’s lost several long term employees to higher paying jobs lately.  A very reliable morning opener who had been with the company for 5 years had recently gone on to a better job.  She was already beginning to stress over losing some good people when a girl who had been with the company for 2 years gave her notice that morning so I think she was worrying a bit.  When she heard me say I needed to talk to her about something her mind automatically went there.  She really didn’t think that I wanted to give notice, but I opened my big mouth and told her about my interview.  

Since that day I have talked to her, and I think she’s ok.  She says that she doesn’t think I’ve given notice and that as far as she’s concerned I’m not going anywhere.  That being said the girl who came in to interview for my position is currently being trained at another store.  From what I understand she’s just training for management not catering, but I’m not sure what I think about that.  It did make me a little nervous.

And finally…I got a call from the school I interviewed with.  They want me to come out and observe one day next week.  I was somewhat surprised to tell you the truth.  I knew my interview went well, but I just assumed there were better qualified applicants for the job.  There may be.  They may be observing one day as well.  We’ll see.  I am reservedly excited if that makes any sense at all.

Edited to add…

This morning I ended up needing to stay home to take care of a sick kid.  103 temperature, throwing up with diarrhea kind of sick.  I called my boss who was quite pleasant.  Like she didn’t care that I wasn’t coming in.  Totally not the reaction I would normally get.  Either I am being overly paranoid or I desperately need a teaching job and fast!

Last week I applied for a teaching job.  It was a rather unexpected event to tell you the truth.  I knew that I might need to move back into teaching in the fall.  I knew that I would need more money to support myself.  I decided to check into some job fairs that many school districts have in the spring.  When I looked at one of the area school district’s website I noticed that they had an opening for a kindergarten position.  I debated applying but decided that it wouldn’t hurt to send in my application.  That was done last Sunday.  Monday afternoon I got a call about an interview for later in the week.  I wasn’t sure what to think.  I wasn’t sure what to tell my current employer.  I decided not to say anything because the chance of me actually getting the job was pretty slim, and I certainly didn’t need to cause my employer to stress out.  On Wednesday my boss made some comment about me turning in my 2 weeks notice.  I wasn’t sure if one of the two people I had confided in had mentioned my interview to her or not.  I explained what was going on, and she freaked.  She was totally joking when she said what she said about me giving her two weeks notice.  I told her that I wasn’t really looking…that I just had the one interview.  That in the fall I would probably need to do something that offered more benefits.  I think she would have handled it okay, but the district manager happened to visit.  She didn’t handle it well at all.  She kept telling me that I could make the same amount that the teaching job offered at my current job.  She is right.  I could make the same amount.  The difference is that word…could.  Teaching I will make that amount.  I will have a number of sick days.  I will automatically have vacation days for Spring Break, Christmas, and Thanksgiving.  There will be retirement benefits as well.  I don’t have any of those things where I currently work.  If I want to take a vacation I won’t get paid.  If I am sick or one of my kids is sick and I miss work…no money.  I do have insurance but no retirement.  I love my job.  I really do, but I know that I won’t be able to support myself on it for long.  I can’t continue to live paycheck to paycheck.  I have to be saving some money.  On Friday I had to leave work early.  About 15 minutes before I left a girl showed up to interview for my position.  I couldn’t believe it.  It really stressed me out!  I didn’t have a chance to talk to my boss about it then, and she is on vacation until tomorrow.  I have no idea what will happen.  I don’t think they will do anything crazy, but at this point I’m not sure.  I won’t be fired.  I know that much for sure.  I just don’t want to be demoted.  Even if they keep me at the same pay scale I will lose my insurance.  I won’t have the extra money that comes with my job.  I need every bit of what I make.  

As far as the teaching job goes…I interviewed.  I felt like it went well.  I know for a fact that at least one other person interviewed for the job.  We passed in the parking lot.  On the interview table I saw 3 folders similar to the one they put my information in.  So I am guessing that there were 4 of us interviewing that day.  After the interview I asked the principal when she was going to make a decision.  She said it would be a couple of weeks.  That tells me that more people will probably be interviewing.  I have no idea what my chances are.  I haven’t had a teaching job in 15 years.  I thought the interview went well.  I don’t know Spanish which would be an asset.  I’ve lived overseas and experienced different cultures which seemed to impress the panel.  I have absolutely no idea which way this will go.  I really wouldn’t care so much about not getting the job if I hadn’t said anything to my boss.  As it stands now I am going to be a little stressed until I talk to her.  Hopefully that will be tomorrow.   Hopefully after talking to her I will feel better and not worse!

In my last post I mentioned my sister.  I decided that it was only fair to her to give you her reasons for the choice she made.  It wasn’t an easy decision.  It wasn’t a decision based on her feelings about me.  She wasn’t disgusted with the thought of me being with another woman.  Her decision was based solely on what she, as a christian, felt like the Bible was instructing her to do.  Here is the passage she used to explain it to me.

1 Corinthians 5:9-13

9 When I wrote to you before, I told you not to associate with people who indulge in sexual sin. 10 But I wasn’t talking about unbelievers who indulge in sexual sin, or are greedy, or cheat people, or worship idols. You would have to leave this world to avoid people like that. 11 I meant that you are not to associate with anyone who claims to be a believer[j] yet indulges in sexual sin, or is greedy, or worships idols, or is abusive, or is a drunkard, or cheats people. Don’t even eat with such people.

   12 It isn’t my responsibility to judge outsiders, but it certainly is your responsibility to judge those inside the church who are sinning. 13 God will judge those on the outside; but as the Scriptures say, “You must remove the evil person from among you.”

Being gay is a sexual sin according to the Bible.  I am a believer.  I truly believe that my sister would put a drunkard or a abusive person in the same category as a homosexual.  She doesn’t consider the sin more offensive.  What is offensive to her is the fact that I’ve heard the truth of the Bible.  I’ve believed that truth.  I’ve even gone out and told others about it.  And now I am willingly choosing to go against what I’ve known to be true.  

I don’t want people to think that my sister is a mean and hateful person.  She isn’t at all.  She has convictions.  She lives by them.  I also don’t want to hear the age old argument about the Bible mentioning foods you are supposed to avoid or stoning people for their sins.  I absolutely hate when people use these Old Testament passages to try to plead their case.  I don’t feel like getting into a theological argument…just know that I’ve heard it all before.  Those arguments don’t hold water when used alongside the New Testament scriptures.  

So I’m sure you wonder how I could choose this.  And I did choose.  When I made the choice to act on the feelings I was having all those many months ago something happened in me.  It counted.  It mattered.  It was as natural as breathing to me.  Despite all that I came away from that experience in a fog.  As the fog lifted I knew that I couldn’t go back.  I made my choice.  I am going forward.  And while I cannot reconcile my decision and my faith I still believe.  I have to.  I’ve experienced both.  And to deny either one is impossible for me.

Look it’s a post!  Two in one week.  Crazy!

1.  Thanks.  

I just wanted to thank all those who read here and commented or emailed.  You guys are great!  The funny thing about all of it is that I know I have friends.  People have called, emailed, shown up at work, and left messages wherever they could to tell me they love me.  I wasn’t complaining that nobody liked me.  I just needed to step back from my social life some as I tried to figure out what I need.  I need those friends.  I need that social life.  I just needed a break from all of it.  After countless messages on facebook I finally posted a status update thanking everyone for being so great and letting them know I would be back.  There are a few of those friends who I have no doubt will love me no matter what.  Some of the others may have issues with my sexuality.  I can understand if they do.  Some of them may choose to admonish me over it all.  Some may just write me off all together.  It’s those last two that I’m not quite ready for.  I don’t know if I am strong enough to handle a severe tongue lashing over my choice.  I already had one from my sister.  I handled it ok, but I’m not ready to have a line of people doing the same thing.  I also know that there are new friends to be made.  I can’t wait!  

2.  Christmas.  

My parents debated how to handle our family Christmas celebration this year.  My sister doesn’t want to have anything to do with me and has informed the family that she will not attend any event where I am invited.  This posed a problem at Christmas as you can imagine.  Normally my whole family gathers at my parent’s house on Christmas eve.  We get together to share a meal and open presents that night.  Later we all retreat to our own homes and have Santa and stockings the next morning.  This year they decided to have the normal Christmas celebration sans me.  I was fully supportive of this.  I certainly didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.  My kids attended with their dad.  I also encouraged this.  I didn’t want them to miss out on the fun.  I will confess to a few tears over it, but I knew it was the right thing to do.  

Before anyone says anything negative about it all I have to say my parents are wonderful.  They didn’t want me to miss out on Christmas so they decided that on Christmas day they would have a meal as well.  This one was for me.  Both of my brothers and their families were invited as well.  I wasn’t sure if they would come since I hadn’t seen one of them since I came out.  I didn’t know how he would react.  When I arrived at the house my mom gave me a hug and started to cry.  Of course that made me tear up as well.  Then both brothers came.  It was so nice to have that family time.  I know my sister was missing.  At one point we were joking at dinner, and I mentioned my sister.  I was telling a story about something we had done when we were younger.  I think it surprised my brothers that I could talk about her and be ok.  I don’t like that she won’t see me, but I don’t hate her.  I will always be available if she wants me in her life again.  Always.

Ok…that’s it.

I heard a song this week that made me think.  Tim McGraw’s song Southern Voice has the line, “Come on in. I’m sure glad to know ya.” in it.  For some reason I really heard that line.  My grandmother used to say that.  I like it.  When compared to, “It’s nice to meet you.” it sounds warmer.  Friendlier.  More intimate.  I guess it wouldn’t be an appropriate thing to say to everyone you meet for the first time, but I think there are times when those words might be exactly what someone needs to hear.  They communicate a willingness to get to know someone.  

I think we all have a desire to be known and loved.  Sometimes that desire is buried deep.  We’ve been known and hurt by those close to us so we hide ourselves from people.  We try to protect ourselves by not letting people see us.  We are scarred and scared.  Every time we open up to someone we are putting ourselves at risk of being hurt again.  And we will be hurt again.  People are people.  They will do stuff that hurts us.  Some of it will be intentional.  Most of it won’t be.  It’s the knowing when to trust someone and when to let them go that’s hard for me.  I tend to be an open book.  If you ask something I will tell you.  I don’t have a problem letting myself be known for the most part.  Sure there are some things that I am tight-lipped about, but mostly I don’t mind letting people get to know me.  

Since leaving my husband and filing for divorce I’ve put almost all the people who really know me aside.  I don’t plan to never talk to them again, but I’m not ready to hear what some of them might say.  It feels strange…this lack of friends.  

I do have Fleur de lis.  And thank goodness I have her.  She’s been amazing during it all.  And oh so very patient with me.  Thank goodness.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this post.  It’s just stuff that I’ve been thinking.  And for some reason there are tears in my eyes over it all.  And just in case you were wondering this post isn’t about anyone in particular.  It wasn’t because of any event.  I just heard a song that made me think.

“…But it gradually seemed to me that I’d made myself believe something that wasn’t true.  I’d made myself believe that I was fine and happy and fulfilled on my own without the love of anyone else.  Being in love was like China: you knew it was there, and no doubt it was very interesting, and some people went there, but I never would.  I’d spend all my life without ever going to China, but it wouldn’t matter, because there was all the rest of the world to visit… And I thought: am I really going to spend the rest of my life without feeling that again?  I thought:  I want to go to China.  It’s full of treasures and strangeness and mysteries and joy.

~Phillip Pullman

Gosh darn it I want to blog. I don’t feel like there is time enough to do all that I need to do as it is. Blogging has definitely taken a back seat these past couple of months. I hate that. This weekend I had time to blog. I just didn’t have the strength. I had a lingering cough from my last illness that developed into a cold on Thursday. By Saturday night I had a full-fledged sinus infection. Everything from my teeth up hurt like hell. I don’t know that I had ever had one that bad before. I slept/suffered all day on Sunday. I called work on Sunday night and told them that I couldn’t come in on Monday…that I had to go to the doctor. I hated to miss a day of work, because if I miss work I don’t get paid. I knew there was no way I could make it at work though. By the time my appointment rolled around at 3 in the afternoon I thought I was dying. A shot and three prescriptions later I headed home to do more sleeping. When I woke up on Tuesday I felt like a new person. Still coughing and still stopped up some, but the pain was gone. I went to work. I came home. I figured after a mostly full day of work I would be exhausted. Oh no. I was wide awake. I guess sleeping for 2 straight days does that to a person. So this morning after about 4 hours of sleep I went back to work. I came home and spent about 3 hours with my Fleur de lis. I won’t be able to see her for the next few days because our schedules are both so crazy. I hate that. (We plan to do some Christmas celebrating next week.  You know…New Year’s style!)  After she left I braved the traffic and the stores to finish up my Christmas shopping. I came home. And my head tells me I should be tired, but I’m not. At this point I will get 6 hours of sleep before I once again have to be up for work. Yep…working on Christmas Eve. I’m beginning to think a teaching job is in my future. I might as well use that degree I earned. At least I’ll have a few paid sick days AND a break at Christmas.

Yeah…a boring blog post. Did you miss me?

Here…let me make it up to you. This should make you smile!

I totally need to have another baby so I can buy one of these. I giggle every time I see this picture.

I haven’t blogged in 2 weeks.  I have had many thoughts that would have been blog worthy, but I haven’t had time to do anything about them.  Take today for example.  I left my apartment this morning at 6 am.  I arrived back at 7:45 pm.  I put a few things away, started a load of laundry and got ready for bed.  I’m sitting on my bed with my computer in hand, yet I still don’t have time to blog.  If I go to bed now I will get 7 hours of sleep before I have to be up.  Tomorrow is an early work day for me.  Maybe things will slow down some this weekend.  I can’t wait for Friday afternoon to get here.  Goodnight.

I used to keep an anonymous blog.  It was the place I used to deal with all that was going on with me before I could say it aloud.  I was reading back over some of those posts today and found this one from August 2008.  I thought it was worth sharing.  These thoughts are the reason my blog is called Midlife Natalie.

I’ve been thinking quite a bit lately about mid-life. I am 39. Of course I have no idea what part of my life I am currently living. I could be in the latter years of my life. I could be in the middle. I might live to be 100 which would give me a few more years before the actual middle of my life. I guess I’ve been thinking mostly about the crazy things people do when they are in mid-life. The things others label crises. In recent months I’ve done some of those things that people might tag with the crisis label. I got a tattoo. I have a new hobby. I am questioning those things I’ve always believed. I must be having a mid-life crisis. But I wonder. How come crisis is a bad word? When I looked it up I actually liked the definition. The first definition said, “a time of intense difficulty, trouble or danger.” I wasn’t so crazy about that definition. There were others though. “A time when a difficult or important decision must be made.”  “The turning point of a disease when an important change takes place, indicating either recovery or death.”  “The point in a play or story when a crucial conflict takes place, determining the outcome of the plot.”  I am happy with all of those definitions. I feel that I am in that exact spot. It is time to make an important decision. One that will determine the outcome of my life story. And I don’t feel like I am in crisis mode. I am quite calm actually. I think that there are many reasons that people experience mid-life crises. I don’t think that most of them are because they are falling apart, or scared to get old, or wishing they were young again. I think for most of us mid-life gives us cause for reflection. When we were young we lived our lives differently than we are living them now. We were invincible. Naive. Crowd followers. People pleasers. Or maybe I am just describing myself. I lived the life I thought I was supposed to live. A life I chose to live. One I was perfectly happy living. I followed in my parents footsteps. I did what was expected of me and was content. I was practical and reasonable. Now I look back on those choices and wonder. Oh, there is no way I would change them now. I got married one month after I finished college. I had a baby 2 years later. Then another one. And another one. And one more.  I chose to do all of those things. I’m glad I did. I do think I was lost for awhile during that time. I was willing to sacrifice myself for the sake of those kids. I still am. But now I wonder why I did not do anything for me. I’ve always wanted to take a dance class. I did in high school. I did some in college. Once I got married I guess I forgot to take care of me. I couldn’t take a dance class. I was married and had babies. When was there time to dance? And paint. I’ve always been interested in taking a painting class. But I couldn’t just go off and take a painting class. Now that I am 39 and my kids are all in school I can do those things. I didn’t when they first went to school, because I felt like it was too late. But now I am rethinking my stance on that. It is never to late to learn something new. I want to take a dance class. I want to learn how to paint. I got a tattoo. I might even do something else that people would consider crazy. But it is not because I am having a crisis. It is because I have discovered something. It is never too late to change your mind. It is never too late to start a new hobby. I am not in crisis mode. I am in discovery mode. I am having a mid-life discovery. And why the hell not!

A couple of posts ago I said something about participating in the Great Interview Experiment. Well I finally got my act together and questioned my victim interviewee. FatBoyFat is from the Motherland, Great Britain, and his blog is Make Lard History. He enjoys long walks on the beach, dinner by candlelight, and…oh…wait…let me let him tell you about himself.

1. Ok…let’s start with the obvious question. Your screenname…Fatboyfat…and your blog title…Make Lard History give me the impression that this blog is all about your weight or your diet. I’ve read some of your early posts and while that seems to be your initial intention your blog isn’t about that anymore. If you were to give a description of your blog what would you say it’s about? Now that you’ve been blogging for a couple of years do you have any goals for your blog?

I realised fairly early on that repeated posts containing exercise regimes, recipes or simply pictures of my feet on the bathroom scales would be lacking in entertainment, so I broadened the remit of Make Lard History. So now it’s a rather random collection of writing exercises, observations, short stories, commentary and the occasional semi-lucid rant. The theme is ‘There Is No Theme’. I’m still not entirely sure if that’s a good idea, two years later.

It would be nice to have a goal, I suppose. I’ve never really thought about it much as I never really expected much from the process at the outset. I enjoy writing, and if other people are vaguely entertained by the end result, that’s a bonus.

2. You mentioned attending your brother’s civil ceremony in a post back in August of 2007. You also said something about attending Pride weekend in February 2008. I may be completely wrong, but I assume that your brother is gay and that you are fully supportive of him. As a newly somewhat out gay woman with no family support I would love to hear how you felt about it all. If it was a process for you or not. Also how does your country/city differ from America in the way the glbt community is treated?

I’m very lucky in that I was raised in a household that didn’t seem all that concerned about labels. I’m the youngest of three, and I guess I’ve known that brother no. 2 was gay since my early teens. You just pick up on things, so it’s been an integral part of him for as long as I can remember. So while I’m fully supportive it doesn’t change the way I think about him one iota. He’s the same person with whom I walked to school, shared a bedroom and played cricket in the garden. It’s just that he prefers men. It’s a characteristic – and clearly an important one for those involved – but I don’t have any hang-ups about it. It helps that he has good taste in men – his partner is a genuinely lovely bloke and a welcome addition to the family (although he does deserve early sainthood for putting up with my brother)!

Katie and I go to things like Pride partly because we have several gay and lesbian friends but also because it’s just such a good day out. There’s lots to do, it’s a bit of a giggle and there’s none of the bad atmosphere you sometimes get when alcohol and crowds are involved. We’ve been able to take other friends who’d never previously been exposed to the GLBT community and they really enjoyed themselves. It’s just a good day out with friends.

I said at the start of this answer that I was lucky. That’s because our early upbringing taught us that character was far more important as a measure of an individual than other factors like sexuality, skin colour or religion. And while I think British society has become far more accepting in recent years, there are still some pockets of intolerance. Not everyone had the same commonsense as my parents. There are some media outlets that don’t help – as an example I wrote about the Daily Mail and its readership twice in October this year.

An example: we’ve had legal civil partnerships in the UK for a few years now. The very people who bang on constantly about the sanctity of marriage, and about how important it is for people to commit to a formalised relationship, would willingly turn around to one sector of society and say “Not for you lot, though.” Ironic.

3. You talk about beer quite a bit on your blog. What is your favorite beer and what is it you like about it? Also…when you were in the states did you have a chance to try any of our beers? Did you like them?

Yes, I suppose beer’s been my downfall! Going out and socialising involves pubs, and pubs involve beer, I suppose. I can be a bit of a bore on the subject so I’ll keep it brief, though. I adore traditional English real ales, such as bitter, or at this time of year, porter. It’s thick, dark and comforting. When I visited the States I very much enjoyed Samuel Adams ales. Quite a bit, actually. Clearly I have no repressed bad feelings over the Revolution!

4. One of your recent post was a wonderful little short story about Travellers. You also wrote a story about Flant Day. Genius! Are there more? Have you ever had anything published? If not is that a goal of yours or are you writing them just for fun?

Thank you! I’ve written a number of short stories but for some reason I haven’t labelled them very well on the blog. I’ll go back and do that. I quite like the idea of starting with an unlikely situation and developing it from there. Or setting out from a familiar place and then twisting it. I’d quite like to have something published but there are so many good writers out there I’m under no illusions about it. It’s mainly for fun – and I get a huge kick if other people like what I write. If it gets published, that’s a bonus.

5. For the last 3 years you’ve participated in NaBloPoMo cranking out a post every day in the month of November. Every other month you seem to write less than half of that. How hard is it for you to come up with something to post everyday? Do you feel pressure or do the words come easy?

NaBloPoMo is quite a tough challenge for me – every year I say I’ll never do it and my wife tells me I’ll kick myself if I don’t. Or she will. I do struggle to post generally, as I want to put things up that I like and that other people might appreciate. This year has been harder than most as I lost my Dad at the end of December 2008 and, quite frankly, it knocked me sideways. I struggled to concentrate on anything, including the blog. Although Katie has been around to give me a kick. I know my place. I’d really like to try and do something every other day if I could, as long as I don’t resort to putting pictures of my cat on there.

6. I’ve been back in the states for a year now after living in Turkey for the previous seven years. One of the things I noticed while I lived overseas was that visiting Americans totally stood out. They were usually loud and somewhat obnoxious. Anytime we were going to have guests come visit we gave them a short cultural lesson so as not to offend the locals. What cultural lessons would you give to Americans coming to visit your country? Also are there any interesting non-touristy things you would suggest for them to do?

I have to say that most Americans I’ve met, in real life and online, have been delightful. I know, I’m such a flatterer. However I’m afraid some Brits can be lousy travellers too! But anyway, what could I say to someone from America travelling to Britain? We’re not all massively repressed these days, but please don’t be upset if a Brit doesn’t want to know your life story. You might think he’s not being very warm, receptive or friendly. But that’s really not the case. If ‘avoiding a fuss’ was an Olympic sport, we’d win gold medals any time. We even get nervous about people raising their voices in public places. But once you know that, it’s really quite easy to blend in, and if you set yourself up in a good pub (it’s always the beer for me!), perhaps in a small market town away from the tourist traps you can have a great night people-watching and listening to the banter. Not the same as the Changing of the Guards, but it’s certainly something different.

7. Any last words?

Thank you for these questions – I hope I haven’t bored your readers to death with my answers. I’ve been reading your blog as well and will be sending readers this way too!

Oodles of thanks to FatBoyFat for fabulous answers to my deep and probing questions!

Oh…and if you are so inclined you can go check out the answers I came up with for my interview over Lindsey’s blog, I Digress:  Tales From A Baby Starved Wingnut!