Why My Career Won't Move Forward

You know how the real nutjobs end up in Psychology, the sociopaths end up in politics, and the closet homosexuals end up in the Republican Party?

Along those lines, I find it ironic that my chosen profession is communication, when I suck so bad at it.

I'm not talking about constructing an article, telling a story, or articulating a business need. Those - no problem.

It's with the soft stuff - fly-by chatter, back-slapping small talk, and most of all, office politics - that I'm left feeling like I'm still in fourth grade, stuck at the table next to the cool kids, but inexplicably unable to break through unless one of them needs help with their homework.

That shortcoming, combined with my unswerving practice of walking out the door at 6:30 p.m. no matter what's going down (gotta see Asher before he goes to sleep), does not a good New York media career make.

Too Old For Fifteen Hour Days

Tonight was a school night after a very long day at work. Like the other classes in this program, this one isn't exactly academically rigorous. We spend most of the time talking about election fraud - the theme of the professor's latest book. So far, I haven't learned anything that I hadn't already read on Daily Kos, Talking Points Memo or Mydd (Sorry, Mark).

Tomorrow, I've got two presentations due, followed by six hours of meetings and a mandatory social dinner that I'm still debating whether or not to attend.

Had a great weekend with the family. Leah and I are really starting to bond, and Asher has been an incredible pleasure to hang out with. Conversations included why some people (grown-up men like Daddy) have hair on their chests and others (boys, girls, and grown-up women like Mommy) don't, the relative merits of Jackie Wilson, and why rock 'n roll rarely features a trumpet (and a sample of Beulah as the exception).

Teaching

The question of schools always factors heavily into our discussions of real estate here in the Josephson family. And the more we touch on that topic, the more the fact that teachers barely get paid a living wage shifts from an abstract social ill to a concrete, vein-pulsing, focal point for dinner table rants.

Check out high school teacher/slam poet Taylor Mali's response to a lawyer that belittles his earnings at a party. "Come on," says the lawyer. "Be honest. What do you make?"

"I make a difference," says Mali. "So fuck you."

Twerp

Isaac (reading from "Where the Wild Things Are"): ... and Max was lonely, because he wanted to be where someone loved him most of all.

Asher: With his Mommy?

Isaac: Yes, and what about his Daddy?

Asher: No, he's at work.

Isaac: ...

News?

As I might have mentioned earlier, I'm on this ABC News internal breaking information distribution list. Last night, the emails were flying fast and furious. With equal volume and fervor were the notes on A.G. nominee Mukasey and O.J. Simpson's arrest.

I'll give you one guess which story the site led with this morning.

Academic Endeavors

School starts up again today - for both Asher and me.

One of us will be taking a class with the notable intellectual-turned-bomb-thrower Mark Crispin Miller. Texts all center around the notion that the media is the willing lapdog of corporate interests and malevolent government officials (who are in turn the lapdogs of corporate interests, of course).

The other one will be singing songs, learning about cooperation, and executing various arts-and-crafts projects with Jewish themes.

I hope both of us have a good time and take our respective lessons with a grain of salt.

My older cousin just sent over a photo of me, age 3, at his Bar Mitzvah. Rockin' pants!

In the haze of the past few weeks, I forgot to mention that my uncle - his father - died.

I never knew Uncle Alan well. My mother lived with him and her big sister Judy after her parents died. And by the time she finally left for college years later, there was enough stress and baggage in those relationships to color their interactions for the rest of his life.

Thankfully, my older cousin Matt and I have become friends on our own.

Parenting Sucks

Leah still isn't sleeping through the night, so we decided to let her cry it out last night.

The good news - She only woke up once.

The bad news - SHE NEVER WENT BACK TO SLEEP!!!

Little Miss Josephson screamed her head off from 1:15 a.m. until the sun came up and our patience wore out at 6:00 a.m.

We're trying again tonight.

Good times, my friends. Good times.

ImaginaryGirl, how's your newly-acquired-child rearing coming along?