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Published December 30, 2014 by Jen Lawson

How to have a stress-free Christmas: Be your own Santa

Beginning around July, I started to feel anxious about Christmas. I wanted to opt out and go away somewhere and not celebrate. Neither of my parents are around, so I can do whatever I want, right? Mike said no, though.

Being merry.
Being merry.

For many years, the holiday season has been a season of loss and pain for me. It lessens as the years go by, but it’s always there. And the stress associated with exchanging gifts is something I’d rather not have to experience.

I feel a little uncomfortable receiving gifts from people — if I want something, there’s no reason why I can’t buy it myself. And I do.

One of the best things about working from home is that I’m around to accept deliveries from FedEx or UPS, so I don’t hold back when it comes to online shopping. I love getting the tracking number and watching as the package gets closer and closer to me. It’s like Santa brings me stuff year-round. My Christmas morning is hearing the doorbell, running to the door, and reaching out for that box.

Christmas
Still being merry.

I feel like nobody should have to go through the trouble of getting me anything because they feel they have to, you know? And I’m not convinced that the things I give to people are really the right things, either. Why can’t we express our affection through non-material means?

I took the Love Languages quiz the other night and found that my “love language” is acts of service. So when Mike does something like assembles the new Ikea bathroom cart I bought or makes me toast, that means more to me than an object in a box.

Time spent together is also important to me. It seems like a lot of people are realizing that time is more valuable than money, because our time is finite. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. We can’t make it up or get it back.

We ate at Winthorpe and Valentine inside the Westin, which is attached to Liberty One, one of the tallest buildings in Philly. Big enough to accommodate this massive Christmas tree.
We ate at Winthorpe and Valentine inside the Westin, which is attached to Liberty One, one of the tallest buildings in Philly. Big enough to accommodate this massive Christmas tree.

So when Mike’s mom suggested not doing presents this year, I was all for it. Not only did Mike and I not buy anything for his family, we also didn’t buy anything for each other. Rather than focusing the day on unwrapping gifts, we hung out, had a lot of laughs, played a game, ate and then had dinner at a restaurant — a first for everyone. It was wonderful because had an experience together and we made memories. Isn’t that more precious than unwrapping something?

I did end up exchanging gifts with my brother and a few others and I was happy to do it. It was nowhere near the stress I usually feel.

We sat in a private room.
We sat in a private room.

As 2015 begins, I decided to stop buying myself dresses and shoes online and instead save that money for our wedding. It’s time to retire that year-round Santa.

Have you ever had a low-key holiday like we did?

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Published December 11, 2014 by Jen Lawson

Bullying: Here’s how it affects a person

Yesterday I read an article that flooded my mind with memories. A woman who had been bullied as a teenager had been asked on a date by one of her tormentors, but stood him up. She delivered the news of what she was doing and why via a letter passed to him by a waiter:

Hey, so sorry I can’t join you tonight.

‘Remember year 8, when I was fat and you made fun of my weight? No? I do – I spent the following three years eating less than an apple a day. So I’ve decided to skip dinner.

‘Remember the monobrow you mocked? The hairy legs you were disgusted by?

‘Remember how every day for three years, you and your friends called me Manbeast?

‘No perhaps you don’t – or you wouldn’t have seen how I look eight years later and deemed me f***able enough to treat me like a human being.

‘I thought I’d send you this as a reminder.

‘Next time you think of me, picture that girl in this photo, because she’s the one who just stood you up.

I was bullied as a child for having red hair, glasses and braces and for being too skinny. Although I never turned the tables on anyone like she did, these four attributes plagued me every school day from roughly grades 5-9 (it started in kindergarten but those years were the worst) to the point that on the bus on the way home from school I would review my day by counting the number of times people called me a name or made a cruel remark.

My hair was an unusual color — auburn. I didn’t know anyone with my hair color growing up. The kids with more orange hair didn’t seem to be targets, maybe because there were more of them so they didn’t stand out as much.

First Holy Communion
My First Holy Communion, age 7 or 8.

It was confusing because growing up, my mom always told me I had such pretty hair and we were often stopped by old ladies while out shopping who told my mom they liked my hair. But among the middle school/junior high set, my hair wasn’t quite as appreciated.

I was called a “red-headed monkey,” or just “monkey.” Kids would say, “Your hair is on fire!” and pretend to throw drinks on me (fortunately nobody actually threw anything on me.)

But mostly I was called “ugly.” It was a universally accepted thing that I was the ugliest girl in every class. I made plans to dye my hair brown when I got old enough, and I also wanted a “face lift.” I thought getting a “face lift” meant getting a brand new face. And the one I had wasn’t working for me.

In eighth grade I was walking down the hall when a big, tall guy grabbed my backpack and flung my stuff all over the hall. Nobody stopped to help except for some teachers.

The year before, some boys took my folders and threw them out the bus window, littering a lawn. The bullies also did this to two other girls (one a friend of mine, one not) and the homeowner got our names from the papers, looked up our parents and called them. Even though we said we didn’t do it, and I think everyone believed us, we still had to pick up all the papers from the guy’s lawn because they were ours.

There are other stories that are worse, but you get the idea. Girls were actually much, much more cruel to me than boys were then. I know that others have experienced harsher treatment, including physical violence. Why are kids so cruel?

I was the last one picked in gym class. In fifth grade we had to decide among ourselves who had to do certain classroom and cafeteria table upkeep duties, and the decision-making kid usually picked me to sweep my class’ area of the cafeteria, like a janitor. It was either me or the other least popular person, an overweight boy who I’ll call Michael C.

The really bad part about all of this is that I became swept up in the ripple effect of this bullying and I, in turn, bullied Michael C. I was super mean to him and I feel really bad about that. As bad as I got it, he got it a lot worse, from everyone — including me. He never teased me; that would have gone against the hierarchy protocol of bullying.

I just typed his name into Facebook’s search bar and the only result is a guy from Philly, so it could be him. He looks to be about my age and he appears to be a hipster artist kind of guy. I threw away all of my yearbooks so I can’t look him up to compare photos, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to contact him and bring up stuff from his past he’d probably want to forget.

I'm about 10 here. Note the big '80s glasses.
I’m about 10 here. Note the big ’80s glasses.

I never told anyone about my bullying. I just checked out some old diaries to see if I mentioned anything about it, and I didn’t. I’d write, “Today was ok. I read a book in study hall.” As far as why I never told my parents, I think I just didn’t want to get into it and probably felt their involvement would make it worse.

So, I would have pep talks with myself while on the bus or walking the halls. I told myself that a human being’s face is just the focal point because it primary means for identification, and that’s it. The face isn’t everything. I was still okay even though I was ugly. And that would make me feel better. It’s like I had found a way to resist being completely dehumanized by the bullies.

What’s heartbreaking is that when I look at pictures of myself back then, I have enough distance to say that I wasn’t an ugly girl. I see an awkward girl, yes. But the damage done to my self-esteem made me believe I was ugly. Even today, I’m never pleased with what I see in the mirror and I envy those who don’t have that harsh voice inside them.

My hair color now (this was taken on Thanksgiving)
My hair color now (this was taken on Thanksgiving)

By the time I reached high school, the bullying had stopped, and it was a relief not to be under so much stress all the time. But those experiences really shaped the person I became.

And, you know, I think that’s a good thing. Even though I bullied Michael C. myself, I think being the target of bullies resulted in me being a kinder, more empathetic and sensitive person, ultimately. I spent a lot of time alone, so I developed solitary hobbies, like reading, writing and drawing.

And my outsider status sharpened my observation skills to the point that I channeled that into a career as a newspaper reporter when I became an adult.

I still have red hair. It’s so funny to me how red is now a desired color. Up until a few years ago I was still trying to get rid of the red and I’d get blond highlights.

But over the past year, I started embracing it more to the point that I now color my hair to make it even more red.

Fuck you, bullies.

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Published December 7, 2014 by Jen Lawson

Working from home: What’s it like?

In a word, awesome.

Pros, off the top of my head:

No commuting

Private bathroom

Can sleep later because there’s no commuting

Can wear sweats and slippers all day

Available to accept deliveries

Scheduling repair persons or contractors is a snap

Private bathroom

Can work in a coffee shop or anywhere quiet with Wifi

Hot, healthy lunches made in own kitchen

Easy to concentrate when others aren’t around

Able to get more done in the workday

Able to spend my day with my pets

PRIVATE BATHROOM

Cons

None

Working From Home, Plenty Cafe, Philadelphia, South Philladelphia, Philly
I work out of this cafe on East Passyunk Ave., a half block from my house, one morning a week.

Sure, it’s not for everyone. If you get your energy from being around other people, you’d probably feel isolated. I love being alone so it suits me very well. It’s so efficient to have a company that’s set up this way. Brilliant, even.

I worked in the journalism field for many years, but journalism is dying — in fact, it was on its way out when I was on my way into the field, before people even realized that the Internet would be the daily newspaper’s grim reaper.

But now, as a web content manager, I still get to work with words, punctuation, sentences and paragraphs, but rather than the words I write or edit ending up in newsprint or in the pages of a magazine, they’re solely on the web.

I feel grateful every day that I don’t have to work in public relations anymore, an ill-conceived choice I made in an attempt to evolve beyond journalism a couple years ago.

Gchat, Working From Home

Despite the fact that this is truly a great gig, I find myself explaining my situation a lot and even defending it.

Nope, I don’t wear my PJs all day.

Yeah, I still have to take PTO even though I’m home all day.

No, it’s not freelancing — it’s a normal, full-time job with benefits and all that jazz.

No, I’m not afraid I’ll be forced to go into the office every day eventually because there’s no office — it’s a virtual company and everyone works from home.

No, I don’t have unlimited free time during the work day to do random stuff.

No, this isn’t some fly-by-night company. It’s been around for 12 years and it’s been on the list of the top 100 fastest growing companies in Philly. We’re creating new positions all the time!

I have an office area set up in our basement, which is finished, and I rarely sit at my desk when I’m not working, so it’s my established workplace. (Even sitting here now, on a Sunday, it feels weird.)  I have deadlines all through the day, so if I had to go somewhere, like a long lunch or shopping for a belt for a relative (wtf) I’d have to spend a day or two working ahead to carve out that time that I’d be away from my desk. I’d also have to let my coworkers know I had to go somewhere.

But, I mean, I get it. Most people work in the traditional workplace and don’t know what this kind of setup is like.

Working From Home, South Philadelphia
My home office in the basement.

I get up, go to the gym (um, like only twice a week; three or four if I’m feeling really motivated) and I’m signed in between 8:30 and 9 a.m. Since my work is so deadline-driven and I’m racing against the clock every day, I’ve had to find ways to maximize my time.

One method that’s worked well is an app called Phocus, which is pretty much a timer. It helps me stay, well, focused. I use it every day. I end my day when Mike texts me that he’s on his way home, anytime between 6 and 7:30 p.m.

Do any of you work from home? What’s your experience been like?

P.S. Private bathroom!

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Hi! I'm Jen!

And this is Sassy, my 15-year-old puppy and interspecies life partner. She's my proofreader, too, so any errors in this blog should be blamed on her. (RIP Sassy, 2000 - 2016)

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