Off to Princeton

Today's the big Princeton garden club lady tour. I'll be doing the talking from the tour's origin in New Brunswick, down Route 1 to Washington Road on the outskirts of Princeton.

Wanna know why Princeton history goes as far north as New Brunswick... and even Elizabeth? The garden club ladies are gonna find out from me!

Hopefully I can keep from sounding like I'm babbling -- we're trying to fit 20 pounds of talk in a five pound sack. Chances are they won't care, anyway. They're in it more for the gardens they'll see once they get into town, and fortunately I don't have to talk about any of them. I just have to herd the troops back onto the bus after each stop. That's where the real test comes in. Can I be firm yet polite? Will I make it through the day without doing bodily harm to anyone? Will anyone be able to come up with the bail money if I get arrested for assault?

In any case, it'll keep me occupied and distracted from thinking about Monday's biopsy.

More boob news

I've kept radio silence on the breast issue for a few months as I've waited for my six month recheck. Now... some news.

My April mammo showed the spots in question are still present, and while the radiologist said they're probably benign, I made another visit to the surgeon to get her opinion. She's strongly recommending the surgical biopsy. With this one, they do a mammo or ultrasound to locate the spot, place a wire as a guide for the surgeon, and then she goes in to excise sample. The advantage of this approach over the core sampling is that if she runs into any blood vessels, she can cauterize them to prevent excess bleeding.

Needless to say, I wasn't thrilled about this, but she told me that she won't declare me 'clear' of any problems until she's seen no change on seven years' worth of mammos at six month intervals. Thank you, no. Thus, her people are working to schedule the procedure for May 17. I should know the results a few days later.

For the most part, I'm dealing okay, but every once in a while, I get a little freaked and emotional about it. I don't like hearing the word 'surgical' and any part of my body used in the same sentence, even if it's just for a test.

Then, on the other hand, I think of my grandmother who died from breast cancer that went undiagnosed far too long. If her doctor hadn't been such an arrogant bonehead and actually listened to her concerns, it's likely I would have had the chance to actually meet her.

Best to find out now and deal with it, than to live with uncertainty.

And then there's....

... Princeton. (I'll bet you thought I was going to say "Maude!")

The big, full-day Princeton tour for the garden club ladies is coming up in the next couple of weeks. And I'm not nearly as prepared as I would like to be.

What does this look like? Garden club people from around the country will be descending on New Brunswick, and Mimi and crew have been hired to help run bus tours of P'ton and local gardens on the last day of the conference. Total attendance will be around 600 people -- 12 buses in all. What a megillah. And what a nice opportunity to get more experience and perspective.

Sat down a few weeks ago with Mimi and my bus partner for the tour. The partner is a woman who's an officer of the local garden club and a major planner for the gathering the tour will be part of. She's a lovely person and also has the benefit of having been a docent at a few museums, so she knows her way around a tour and has realistic expectations. At the same time, she's going to be extremely busy during the weeks before the conference, with little time to prep for the tour, so she asked if I'd be willing to take the lead that day. No problem. Just let me know what route we're taking. Otherwise, these people are going to be hearing a ton about the Rutgers/Princeton rivalry, and not much else.

She sent me several pages of her thoughts about the front end of the tour, and Mimi provided some additional speaking points, but I'm still not entirely clear on the mid section. We're filling eight hours here -- probably about 90 minutes for lunch, and then some stops at private gardens -- but other than that, I don't have an agenda or anything. Logic tells me that we're really only filling the start and end parts with patter, and then the gardens will be the bulk of the day (and not my responsibility to narrate), but I've gotten no confirmation on that.

This is where the insecure kid part of me comes in. For a fair chunk of my life, my flash assumption when I don't understand something is that it's probably because I missed something. More often than not, it turns out that the other person didn't provide enough explanation or wasn't clear enough (and often others are as confused as I am), but still, the self-doubt makes me hesitate to ask too many questions. I guess I also don't like looking stupid. In this case, I don't want to have that supposed stupidness or lack of preparation reflect on Mimi, either.

I drove down on Wednesday to check out the areas I know will be on the tour, plus a bit of the campus I hadn't visited in a while. All's pretty much good there, though it seems a bit ambitious to cover as much of it as my partner seems to want to. Nonetheless, it's all workable. I just need to know what ELSE we need to cover. I've got to study! I figure if I don't have at least some answers by Monday, I've got to get really aggressive about finding out.

Somewhat relieved yesterday to get an e-mail from my tour partner, asking if I can join her, Mimi and another garden club person Wednesday to discuss. Phew! Just in time to get my questions answered, information gathered and part secured. Then all I have to do is memorize.

This is gonna be interesting.

Getting comfortable

After having called in sick for my previously-scheduled volunteer day at the Edison Labs, I went back in this week for another full day. I have to admit I wasn't all that excited for some reason. Maybe it's because I'm still under the weather. Maybe it was the uncertainty of what I would be doing that day, and the discomfort of knowing I'm not as prepared as I'd like to be to respond to questions. Again, I'm my own toughest critic.

Once again, I was shuttled up to Glenmont to shadow the rangers on tour and at the potting shed/visitor center. From the first few minutes I spent with them down at the main office at the lab, I knew it would be a good day. Nice guys, great senses of humor and positive attitudes -- very easy to get along with.

This looked to be a busy day: four pre-arranged group tours in the morning, followed by four public tours in the afternoon. To make matters even more interesting, the morning tours were scheduled back-to-back, every half-hour, and one of them would possibly have the park superintendent along. My role? Help keep the group together, answer questions if I could, smile, and keep inquisitive hands away from the contents of the house. I'd spend the morning in the house with one ranger, and then head back to the potting shed and perhaps do one tour with the other ranger to hear his spiel.

After going on a total of five tours, I actually think I could handle taking the lead on my own. When I was there doing backup a few weeks ago, I was pretty overwhelmed by the depth of information the ranger guide was sharing about some of the furnishings in the house, wondering if I could ever remember them all. This most recent experience made me realize two things: first off, some of the rangers don't even know all of it (hence the handy notebooks in each room), and second, it's near impossible to cover the whole house in 30 minutes if you go into that level of detail. So... I might be more ready to lead one of these tours than I originally thought.

In many ways, the Edison experience is turning out to be more instructive than the Ellis Island activities. While I have more autonomy at Ellis, there's greater variety of activity at Edison, and seemingly more focus on the volunteers as a resource. (Granted the Ellis Island thing is a bit of a hybrid, given that I'm volunteering through Save Ellis Island.) In fact, one of the rangers took me aside before his tour to share his approach to working with visitors at Glenmont, and the methods he uses to make a connection for them. I'd also heard much of the theory during the training at Ellis Island a few months ago, but he gave me his personal view on why it's important and a successful approach for him. Pretty cool.

Still not sure what I'm going to do as far as touring, but volunteering is giving me incredibly valuable experience and perspective. I've got the mechanics of being the backup down pat, and I got the sense the rangers were glad for the help. The funny thing, too, is that I think I'm getting more comfortable with the public speaking part. As I've said before, I was a pretty lousy presenter in a business setting, but that was likely due to general disinterest in the topic. Now I don't have much of an issue with it. And after talking with a few people at both sites, I've come to realize that my usual fear -- getting the first five minutes of the tour under my belt without feeling like a blathering idiot -- is a pretty common one. In a lot of ways, it's like acting. You know what you need to say, you have to be engaging, but you need a little time to settle into your role.

And let's see...

... that NYU class I signed up for? The one on freelance magazine writing?

Cancelled again, due to low enrollment.

Is someone trying to tell me something, or does NYU just enjoy volleying back the same $310 I sent them? Or does everyone see freelancing as a futile venture?

Blurg.

Entering the Edi-zone

It's official: I'm now a volunteer in the Edi-zone. Goofy, yeah, but my little nickname for the Edison National Historical Park.

After going to a couple more volunteer events and talking to a couple of the on-staff coordinators, I got an unexpected call from one of the rangers. They were going to be shorthanded one day and needed someone to come in and help ferry visitors around. Given my experience at Ellis Island, they were hoping I'd be able to step in quickly. Uh, sure. I can come in for the morning. No problem. It's easy enough to 'sweep' behind the tour and make sure nobody lags behind or touches anything they shouldn't. And I know enough to answer questions, right?

Yeah... well...

I was assigned to help out the rangers at Edison's house, Glenmont, which is about a half mile from the Labs in an idyllic gated community called Llewellyn Park. They were expecting two seniors groups to come in the morning, ranging from 20-30 people per tour. Okay. That's about the max size for the Ellis Island tours I do, so I figured I knew what to expect in terms of group behavior and so forth. But, of course, the Ellis Island tours are in a fairly expansive area, whereas Glenmont is your classic late 1800's mansion: smaller rooms and lots of stuff to handle and trip over. While there are velvet ropes and a convenient green runner to show visitors where it's safe to walk and what's off limits, we all know that the ability to pay attention to rules is skill that fewer people have than one might think.

One of the rangers stayed behind at the greenhouse/potting shed that serves as the visitor center for Glenmont while the other ranger and I went to the house to turn on the lights and music. Stuff I love: walking back staircases and the servants' areas not open to the public. This house would have been a fantastic place for kids to play hide and seek!

The first group showed up more or less on time, and I stayed just inside as the ranger gave his opening patter on the porch. He claimed that he'd be able to do the tour in a half hour, but it was already becoming apparent that it would be a challenge. This group was already participating vocally, and it looked as if there were some slow walkers.

Every ranger's going to do a slightly different tour, and this one was doing an "E! True Hollywood Story" on the house's pre-Edison origins. Unfortunately, I was too preoccupied watching people to have much of the rest of his commentary sink in. First there was the photo buff who was jockeying to get the best perspective and hanging behind the group. Then there were the people who wanted to know the provenance of the artwork on the walls. Uh, well, probably nobody any of us ever heard of, but I can look it up in the notebook that outlines the contents of each room and is helpfully tucked in the corner. But then we're getting way off topic here. It's a Victorian house, jammed with ornamentation and knick-knacks of all sorts. It could take a year to tell you about absolutely everything.

Not surprisingly, two of the visitors weren't keen on (or able to) climb the stairs to the second floor, so it was my task to keep them company in the first floor conservatory. Mina Miller Edison had a lovely sunroom where she kept plants and watched birds, and there are several seats there for people who choose not to take the tour upstairs. Not surprisingly, the Park Service wants to be sure they don't wander off and touch things, or worse, which is why I was there. That's fine, but I felt pretty dumb not being able to answer some of their questions. Hey, it's not as if I hadn't been there a million times before... right? I felt like the overconfident kid who didn't study much and got nailed by every question on the exam.

Also not surprisingly, the tour took longer than 30 minutes, which meant that the second tour got backed up (and thus the rest of the day would, too). We did a quick turnover and brought in another 25 people, this time a group from outside Scranton. They were a chatty bunch, asking questions right from the start -- the type who do my tour for me before we leave the starting gate. Then several of them didn't want to climb the stairs, so I never did get to hear the rest of the ranger tour. And again, there were questions I had to refer back to the ranger, since I didn't know enough yet.

I felt like a jerk leaving at noon, when the rangers were starting to get the public tours in, but I consoled myself with the knowledge I'd set the boundary and they were happy to get any help that day. As I walked to my car, I heard one of the seniors telling another, "It's so nice when you ask a question and can get an answer." In my paranoid, sarcastic world, I took that as a hit, but then who knows. And I can't know everything right off the bat. It all takes time.

Eat, Pray, Love. Overeat, Procrastinate, Sleep.

Okay, so this is what I've been avoiding, but I'll write it because I just got a sign: I'm at Panera, and a woman just sat in front of me with a copy of Eat Pray Love. If you're not familiar with it (and even if you are, I guess), it's the memoir of a writer who ditches her current life in favor of discovering what she wants to do next. She writes about her triumphs, her tribulations, her doubts and her happiness. Not surprisingly for an Oprah's book list entry, the book is profoundly personal and very inspirational.

Then there's my story.

I don't say that to be flip or dramatic. It's just occurred to me that I haven't been true to my commitment to this blog. When I started, my intention was to chronicle my full range of emotions and experiences as I explore the big abyss of possibility. I'm really good with the positive stuff: the connections I'm making, the affirmations and such. I'm not so good with the more challenging stuff. There are probably dozens of reasons for that, but the big one for me is that I always feel the need to solve a problem when I bring it up. My take (right or wrong) is that when you complain or raise an issue, you either fix it or don't bring it up again. The irony is that you're at your most human when you're open about your vulnerabilities. I'm not talking about spilling your fears to everyone who says hello to you, and I'm not talking about constantly sharing sob stories. I'm talking about being honest about who you are with the people who care about you.

January and February are always tough months for me. I suffer from seasonal depression. While I've learned some coping mechanisms over the years and do get treatment for it, it can still be a bitch. I'm kinder to myself than I once was, and I'm not beating myself up for cocooning and being unproductive, but the truth is that I don't have a lot going on, and the anxiety is building. While I couldn't remember having a dream for over four months, I've started having them virtually every night for the past two weeks. And the first one was a recurring dream I thought I'd left behind years ago: finding a hungry baby for whom I somehow felt responsible. In the past, that baby was usually pretty quiet, but this time, he/she was crying in the back of a parked car.

Not hard to read into that one, right? There's something inside me that's definitely still hungry and needs to be satisfied. That brings a little more sense to the free-floating anxiety, but it doesn't point in a specific direction.

That's me: always looking for a direction from outside myself. I can talk a good game about wanting to create something new for myself, to run it for myself, to be the boss. I can get people enthusiastic about what I want to do. However, I don't have the charisma to drive them to action on my behalf, or to keep myself motivated and committed. I don't seem to have the drive to get past the fear of failure. Or maybe it's that I lack the commitment gene when it comes to hard work on my own behalf. Maybe I need affirmation. I certainly could use some accountability, but I hesitate to ask for it, probably because of that inability to be seen as something less than a success. It's funny, because my biggest heroes (i.e. Edison, Eleanor Roosevelt, etc.) got past the fear and actually embraced failure as a positive and necessary step toward achievement.

Part of it may be that I just haven't found my purpose yet. The historic stuff and tour business is great and a lot of fun, but I'm not convinced it's where I need to be. I think I held onto that as THE answer for so long that I've forgotten to keep looking elsewhere, too.

The odd thing is that while I love writing, I haven't done much of it of late, probably a product of the winter blahs. I forced myself to sign up for a freelance course at NYU, the same one that got cancelled last fall. And a friend sent me a link to a travel site that could potentially pay cash for brief writeups of quirky destinations. Writing a compelling piece in under 250 words is a challenge for me, but something I can do. I just have to do it.

When I'm fair with myself, I do see that I've made some progress:

• I'm more myself again. I'm back to being the authentic me. People respond to me favorably, and some are even drawn to me.
  
• My work at Ellis Island has given me great experience. It's helped me suss out that I am better/more comfortable with larger group tours and would have to work a lot harder to forge my persona as a host to a small group or one-on-one.
  
• I'm building a professional relationship that might bear fruit over the long haul. I'm still talking with Mimi the Princeton lady about her business and will even be helping her out with a huge tour she's running in May. She's a good egg and a savvy marketer, and I have no doubt that if we both want it, we'll end up working together in some form or another.
  
• And, very importantly, I'm building a strong relationship with the boyfriend. We've had our challenges, and neither of us is anywhere near perfect, but we're both committed to seeing where it goes, and to doing the things that are needed to get there. I'm profoundly grateful for the things that make it possible: the lessons I've learned by trial and error over the years, the patience and the ability to see beyond myself and think of us rather than just me.
  

That's all good, and I know I haven't been a total slacker over the past six months. All the same, I know I need to be more disciplined and to be tougher on myself while still being kind. That means not beating myself up for not making progress, but still holding myself accountable for doing the things I need to do to make progress.

I'm not alone in this, and it would do me good to get involved with others who are in the same situation, but that also would require me to fess up. I wonder if there's a 12 step program for procrastinators and accountability-phobes?

*Sigh.*