If This is Sexism…

There is a photo I posted on Facebook a couple of days ago. It is the screen shot of my new schedule of my first MBA semester. The comment I put along with it was, “Can I just say how totally kick-ass I think it is that all of my professors for my first semester of my MBA are women?” I think most people got it. Some did not, and one of the comments I got was from the girlfriend of my father-in-law, who prides herself on being more progressive. She asked why this would matter and stated that, to her, I sounded sexist.

Hmmm.

I remember when we moved after I had finished school. We had actually been homeless for a month before hand. We needed money. And somehow, after one of my first job interviews, I had a job making real money for the first time in my life. Complete with a sign-on bonus, relocation assistance, and other benefits. We went from sleeping in a fleabag motel with most of our posessions in storage to moving into a upscale, expensive rental. I did that. John didn’t have a job. But I studied my ass off as a nontraditional student in order to get straight-A’s, a list of professional contacts, and more, to set me apart from all of the other new grads in my field and land a good job. I was so proud. And when I called to get utilities turned on at our new, nice house, what happened? They didn’t want to turn them on, and told me to have my husband call back. I remember my response to this day: “Ma’am, I would be glad to have my Master call back, but when it comes time for a bill to generate and you expect to be paid, you will have to deal with me, as my husband doesn’t work. I am the head of this household.”

But it did something to me. That, along with my upbringing, have shaped me.

My mother raised seven children. Seven of the most ungrateful children in the world. She was married to my father all of her life. And she never had a job outside of the home. She did a good job, as we never wanted for a thing. I grew up with elaborate meals prepared three times a day. I never did laundry or dishes because my mother never wanted us to. Mom made our world go ’round and Dad footed the bill. But then Mom started to get sick. And by the time I was a senior in high school, she was too ill to take care of herself, let alone any of us. What did we do? We got her signed up for Meals on Wheels and a home health nurse. I was just a kid, still in school, but the next child in line from me was eight years’ my senior. And she lived right around the corner with her husband, didn’t work, and her children were in school. Interestingly enough, nobody had time for the woman who had raised them, who had surrendered her entire life to doing right by us. While I was at school, nobody could even be bothered to bring her lunch. She would be hospitalized and in the ICU, and nobody would come and see her. I would try to leave school, but by then I was a freshman in college and prohibited from having a car on campus, so I was reliant on family to get me home when the situation called for it. The night she finally died, however, they all remembered their way to the house to raid her jewelry box of the diamonds and emeralds (her favorite and her birthstone) that Dad had bought her in their 35 years of marriage. One sister even had her 4ct. solitaire into a jeweler for appraisal and sizing the very next morning. And what about Mom’s last days? She would cry because her kids didn’t come to see her. She was miserable because, once she had no more to give, they lost interest.

Never in a million years would I allow that to be my life. I don’t want it. She wouldn’t have wanted it for me, and I refuse to let her down. I am bound and determined to shirk the traditional gender roles and live my life how I see fit. You could call this selfish of me, but then I would remind you that I make my living helping people breathe when they cannot do so for themselves. And while this is most decidedly not a commentary on being a homemaker, it is a testament to the fact that, while my mother may have had limited choices, I do not. And I have made my choice. I will never buy into the idea that my ownership of a  vajayjay means there is a damned thing that I cannot do in this world.

So life has taken me down many paths. I’ve had many plans, some of which have worked and some of which have not. Sometimes I have had to backtrack to where the road forked and take the other path. This is the case with business. I came into the world of business because my life took a turn when I was surprised with a pregnancy right before applying to medical school. Sometimes, I mourn that, but Zachary is amazing and I do not regret the path one bit. I surprised myself with an aptitude for this subject: business. I believe I can reach the top of my game. But if I do, I will be in limited company.

Let’s crunch some numbers:

15.4%= The percentage of female corporate officers in Fortune 500 companies, as of 2011.

14.8%= the number of board seats held by women in the same.

2.4%= The percentage of female CEOs of Fortune 500 companies.

22= the number of female CEOs in  the Fortune 1000 companies.

Out of a thousand companies, only 22 have female CEOs.

(Source: Susan Gunelius @ www.womenonbusiness.com.)

With all of this in mind, I can say that it is “kick-ass” that all of my professors are female for my first semester of my MBA program. At a program that is competitive, nationally-ranked, and highly revered, at least in local business circles, these women are full professors, at the top of their game. I could say that there is a sparkling, crystal-clear ceiling made of glass that I would love to shatter, but these women have done it for me. For my mother, who died feeling like her life had no purpose. It is women like these who will ensure that my sons will grow up in a world where they do not believe that their gender makes them superior or inferior, but equal to their female counterparts. It is women like these who will change those God-awful statistics I just cited. And then there is the richness of the idea that, while women are so outnumbered in top business positions, they can make careeers of educating the men that edge them out for the top spots at these companies.

I thought the definition of sexism was believing in the superiority of one gender over the other, not the equality of the two. Am I wrong? Is it sexist to want more for your life? To have the personality that translates to the desire to challenge yourself and not stagnate? To expect that your gender will not hold you back and be happy when you find evidence that it will not? Is it sexist to believe that, because I have worked my ass off to improve the lives of my loved ones, I can do even more?

If this is sexism, sign me up.

No Rest For the Wicked

I swear, everybody, that this next comment is going to make me seem like a braggart. I’m not. I’m really, really not. But some people have to really work at academics. I am not one of those people. From grade school, I have handled school work with ease. My business classes have been a cakewalk other than the demands on my time and the volume of work to be done. It isn’t that the work is demanding–it’s just overwhelming for my current schedule.

I am currently in a statistics course. It seems like common sense, and I have an A in the course with only two more assignments to be graded before winter break. But I swear, some of the assignments have been insanely difficult. Maybe it is because it is difficult to learn the intricacies of these complex mathematical formulas online with no face time with my professor. I can do the work but it is actually taking a certain amount of effort. Monday, for example, I had to complete a project that involved a 250 sample size, including organizing the data, computing solutions for problems regarding the data, and presenting it all in spreadsheet form along with an APA-formatted paper analyzing and interpreting the meaning of the information I extrapolated from the data. All of this was done after working all weekend and not sleeping. I literlly came home from work on Monday morning and sat at my desk at 7:30 AM and not completing it until 1AM Monday night/ Tuesday morning. At one point, whether it was from exhaustion, stress, being overwhelmed, or whatever, I actually broke down into tears. In the process, John kept looking over my shoulder, shaking his head and exclaiming how no human could possibly understand the stuff I was being asked to do for the project. He brewed me 5 pots of coffee throughout the day. And then, once completed, I had to hurry and finish the 46-slide PowerPoint presentation on the organizational effectiveness of my current employer. By the end of the night, I was nauseous, my fingers were swollen from feverishly typing, my back/ neck/ head ached. I was still sore the next morning, and didn’t want to even see typeface for a while. No Kindle, no blogs or blogging, no reading.

I am almost finished. I will be on winter break from Monday through January 8th, when I will return to a whirlwind of classes before I can move on to the MBA. As a matter of fact, I will have 6 more 5.5-week sessions, back to back, with 2 classes each session. For the immediate period of time, I am working every hour that is available. I have 3 days off between now and January 4th, and none of those are holidays.

And now starts my countdown for my GMAT and working on grad school applications. I have put in for vacation for the last 2 weeks of January–time to wrap up exam prep and actually take the exam, hopefully with a few days left over to do nothing work- or school-related. To maybe kick back and celebrate what I have done just a little bit. On a side note, I actually got some interest from M.I.T, which actually hurt a little bit. I cannot pick up my entire family and move like that, though their interest is beyond flattering.  I mean, this is the number  3 MBA program in the country! For me, when just this time last year, I was on track to med school. Maybe in a different time and place. But for now, I have my top three choices and a couple of “safety” schools picked out, and we’ll leave it at that.

In the meantime, I am going to try to spend some downtime here in the Blogosphere over he net three weeks. Please be patient with me and don’t lose interest.

I’m not a huge country fan, though I love me some Kenny Chesney. His music just reminds me of my John. But anyway, he has this song that sums it up pretty well, and I leave you with the key line from it:

“Hey, I wanted it all and that’s what I got.”

Bitchypants, Out.

This is My ‘Fridge.

You know how people put braggy Mommy stuff on the fridge? A homework assignment done well, an aced test? Well I don’t get to do that because my stuff is all online. Well, that, and I am an adult. But dammit, nobody ever sees my work. So this past weekend, I was checking the grade book to see how I did on my latest paper, only to get this little note. And because I have nothing left to report, I am going to share it with you all. Lucky you!

 

Excellent job Andrea.  You demonstrated your knowledge of the correct formula to use, arrived at correct answer, and gave correct recommendation. You did an outstanding job on the formulation problem.  . .Appearance wise, your paper is a superior looking product acceptable in the business world. Your paper content follows the assignment with appropriate headings and subheadings. .Your APA format was excellent.  You demonstrated a mastery of all APA style and format functions.  Excellent writing quality. This is very acceptable in the job market for management level position. You demonstrated a Senior college level grammar; no grammar errors. Your paper  clearly described the service related value chain. You addressed all of the major steps, with logical explanations to what should/should not be outsourced. You did an excellent job describing the major elements of this service related value chain. Your evaluation of the elements for possible outsourcing and supporting justification was excellent as well. .Excellent job of clearly describing the product related value chain, from beginning to end; no steps missing, with logical explanations to what should/should not be outsourced. You did an excellent job describing the major elements of this product related value chain. Your evaluation of the elements for possible outsourcing and supporting justification was excellent as well.  Service company answer depth and quality (25%)-  25 pts. Product company answer depth and quality (25%)- 25pts.  Make vs. Buy Problem (20%)- 20pts. Format: easy to follow (10%)- 10pts.Follows APA Style and Formatting (10%)- 10 pts.      

Not-So-Wordless Wednesday: A Self-Portrait at 3 AM

Sexy Bitch. Yeah.

One of the problems of working night shift is that, after years of being awake and taking care of the critically ill while the rest of the normal world sleeps, you get used to the muffed-up schedule. And can’t sleep.

One of the benefits of online classes is that one can attend in their friggin’ pajamas and no one will know.

Unless one takes a photo with their webcam. At 3 AM. In their pj’s. With a big-ass cup of coffee that in proportion resembles a cereal bowl with a handle. (Hey, thanks, Pampered Chef, for making the biggest coffee mugs in the free world. No, wait. I think the book called them “soup mugs” because only idiots like me would consume such high quantities of caffeine.)Take note that those blurry lines trailing from my ears are actually hot pink earbuds. It’s just dark, so they only look like vertical creases of fat rolls. Really, I was listening to an archived recording of the most boring lecture on the planet. Of special consideration? The ultra-nerdy reading glasses because I am getting old as dirt.

Wait, is it……Could it be that…..Yep, it is. I’ve done it. I’ve lost my damned mind.

I’m giving this Portrait of Sexiness/ Insanity/ Mild Retardation a title.

We’re going to call it “Crazy Bitch Dances with Corporate Fucking Finance in the Middle of the Night”. You’re Welcome!

The X Factor

Well, aside from the fact that this picture is decidedly shittaaaaaay, what else is depicted here? My new batch of texts for the next 5 weeks: Operations Management and Corporate Farking Finance. Fabulous.

And thus I bring you the obligatory school update of the seemingly professional student. I still have a 4.0. Yay. I will be finished with the biz degree in exactly one year from now. I thought, with this being the last 12 months, I should get some more info about my MBA, and so the drama I am currently facing started up for me.

I started with my original plan of looking at the online program for the school I am currently attending. And I looked at some of my local options: Northern Kentucky, University of Cincinnati, University of Kentucky… Why in the hell is it that my current school doesn’t require a GMAT or GRE? Hmmm. All of the others do. Turns out that while my current program is great and challenging and actually a little demanding, the MBA is a little less than optimal. And about $20K above any of the local programs. But in my research of local programs, I discovered something interesting. Xavier.

Xavier, or X as we locals call it, is 15 minutes from my house and they have a wealth of MBA programs for the working professional. And guess what else! Their business school is friggin’ nationally ranked one of the top. Hell-to-the-yeah. But it said right there on their site that admission was very competitive. They only admit about 8% of applicants. And I am getting a degree from an online institution from across the country as a non-traditional student with a background in the clinical aspect of healthcare, not the administrative side. How competitive could I really be? So I called.

Basically I discovered that I am very competitive mainly due to my GPA and references. For their top-notch program. And after a very lengthy discussion where I inquired about the option for a concentration in healthcare management in order to use my MBA to climb the ladder at the hospital, I was told something entirely different. As in dual degree: MBA/ MHA. The last being Masters of Healthcare Administration. Holla. But there is a slight problem. Instead of approaching this toward the end of the next 12 months, I have to rush a little. In order to apply for loans and/or scholarships (which the woman basically begged  me to apply for scholarships due to my GPA), I have to gain early admission. Well, unless I can simply write a check for about $50K, which I most definitely cannot. And to gain early admission, I have to take the GMAT Stat! As in sometime in the next 5 months or so. Which means I have to prepare for the damned thing. In addition to the insane amout of reading and paper-writing. And the crap that is going down at work (new NICU startup: rounds at Children’s Hospital, immunizations and background checks, meetings and new certifications, higher credentialing). And Evan starting school. And John starting his classes.

Sorry. This has turned into another post of my bitching about my busy life. But really, I’m excited. I’ve basically been guarunteed admission to a private university with a top business program. The plan is falling into place with such ease that I am wondering if someone somewhere is not trying to tell me that this is what I should have been doing all along. I still have these moments of sadness about would-be Dr. Andrea. About what I could have been if only… In these moments, I choose instead to focus on the gifts I have been given. Beautiful, healthy children. A loving and enduring marriage to a wonderful man. A career in an industry I love. Academic ability…And I focus on what is to come. Because, damnit, I will  do this.

On Rainy Days, a Lost Jackass, and the Truth Behind All of Those Therapy Jokes

Little and Big playing together.

Hey, guess what! It is a virtual farking monsoon outside. Again, and thus delaying Day 3 of the photography challenge. Again. I really do suck at that. So instead, I took another photo for you: Zach and Evan, amusing themselves incessantlywith a battered laundry basket. I’m not sure what is going on with the weather, but earlier today, it was a nice and sunny 90 degrees. Not a cloud to be seen. And now? We’re all couped up in the house from the weather and I am wondering if poor Evan will even get to play outside or swim or do any of the things a 9-year-old boy should be doing on his summer vacay.

It has been a busy week here in the Bitchypants house and I have a few things to talk about, but –oh my God—first things first! Who could have possibly rocked the livin’ shit out of her classes again? Me, that’s who! Hells Yeah. Well, the final grade isn’t calculated for my management accounting class, but my final paper is submitted and so far, according to my grades, I could’ve just not submitted the final paper and I still would’ve gotten an A in the class. I got a perfect score in my business law class. And now I have until June 3rd before I start another class. The next one is E-business. But in the meantime, I swear that, other than this blog and the occasional tweet, I am not writing a damned thing. No word counts, no APA, no crap.

So I came home from this morning’s appointment (I’ll get to that in a minute) and I get on the internet and find out that there is apparently this huge controversy involving one of the MTV Jackass boys and Ebert of movie-critiquing fame. Because—OMG—Ryan Dunn of Jackass fame was killed in a car accident. Now if you aren’t a Jackass fan, I’m sorry. I can remember when John and I were young mid-twenties punks and we stumbled across this show on MTV called Jackass. And I don’t think I have ever laughed so hard at anything in all of my life. I think th skit they were doing was called “BMX Joust” . And we were caught, hook, line, and sinker. Then came the Jackass movies and the boys got a little gross with their antics. But Ryan Dunn was one of our fave Jackasses. And it seems there was drinking involved, so this is where Ebert comes in. Something-or-other about friends not letting jackasses drive drunk. Okay, Ebert. Possibly true, but still in poor taste.  And now the movie critic is the Antichrist on the ‘net.

Evan had his first therapy appointment today with a guy who seems to be in his late twenties. Before we went, I primed Evan by explaining that we were going to tell this guy things, not because we were mad at Evan, but because this guy can help us if we are honest with him about what is going on here. And bless his heart, Evan was honest  and ‘fessed up to all of his stunts, tantrums, and more. We talked about everything from the Great Christmas Caper several years ago, to how he lied to his Grandpa about us witholding food from him all to get even with John for some perceived slight. We talked about the toys and the rules and how neither get any respect. We spilled our guts about the tantrums and meltdowns and how there is no harmony here in the house. And then I got home and read the paper they gave me on the practice, which came complete with a price list for treatments. $375 per half-hour for a psychiatrist. $225 per hour for a therapist with a graduate degree. Thank you, Humana. Because I paid my $35 copay. But ever since, I have not been able to get all of those we-can’t-afford-therapy jokes parents make when they feel like they are doing something that could be psychologically damaging to their children. Because this therapy shit is no joke. And we have another appointment for next week, so I am picturing someone in an office somewhere making the cha-ching noise because my kid has behavioral issues and needs some help. And we haven’t even gotten to the psychiatrist yet. The plan is to get a few therapy sessions under our belts first so the therapist can get a better idea of Ev’s issues. If medication is in order, we will be seeing the main shrink. And Humana will be paying even more. So now I’m wondering if, after the Pregnancy Heard ‘Round the World last year, and Evan’s current issues, is Humana going to cut me off? I speak of all of this, but the truth is that even if they charge us a cool million, I would find a way, even if it meant extracting one kidney from each family member to be sold on the black market. If Evan needs it, the cost is immaterial.

So I guess that’s it as far as boring-ass updates go. More later.

>Welcome To Nerdom

> Welcome to Nerdom where I am your Queen.
I have to explain and I cannot believe that I am going to admit this in black and white on the damned internet.
Tonight I went to Staples for supplies for school.
Like I am fricken starting kindergarten and my Mommy is going emblazon my name in permanent black block letters on everything from my requisite 2 boxes of tissues, all the way down to my shiny new crayons.
Except I’m not in kindergarten. And I am a grown-ass woman. Seriously.

So I get my binders and dividers, color-coded by subject. My new planner that has enough space to write assignments and exams and other details. Pens and white-out and post-its. And I feel so silly and stupid because, while nobody else knows what is going on in my head, I know.
And what is going on in my head? That I love new school supplies. And textbooks. And school in general. And I am almost giddy about it. Maybe it is because I was pretty much forced to abandon my education, not only when my mother died when I was a freshman in college, but also during pregnancy. And I want to get back to it.
Or maybe I’m just a nerd and there is no other reason than that. Because honestly, I could think of nothing more enjoyable than taking classes that interest me for the rest of my natural life. To always be learning. And so I am ready. Ready ready ready.
My first class, incidentally, is Marketing. Ha!

>Going Back

>

My name is Andrea, and I’m a student.

Again.

Barring any complications, I head back to class on April 3rd to begin the completion of my business degree. Since everything else is good to go, all I have to do to get a Bachelors o Science in Business Admin. with an emphasis on healthcare administration is to take the actual business courses. My stuff from my other degree exempts me from the rest.

It sounds so strange. Me. A business major.

Life does funny things to us sometimes. I never saw myself doing anything other than medicine. Never wanting to do anything else. Strange how having Zachy changed me that much. But not one for stagnation, I want to ensure that I have the needed degrees to take my current career as far as I want. Years from now, I don’t want to be limited because I didn’t take the time to get the degrees while I had the chance.

I’m doing a program that will have it all finished within 18 months so I can hurry up and move onto my MBA in healthcare management. I’m nervous and excited. I usually perform very well academically, and you cannot convince me that these courses will be any more of a challenge, or even as much of a challenge, as graduate-level human genetics, where I actually extracted and mapped DNA, or senior-level o.chem, which just about killed me, I swear. And I did all of thesre while working 70 hours per week, while being Mom Extraordinare, John’s keeper, and keeping straight A’s. Can you tell I’m trying to give myself a pep talk?

Because I have officially been out of school for a year. And now I have 2 kids, one of which is a baby who wants to wreak havoc on my laptop each and everytime I open it up.

I can do this, right?

I’m both excited and nervous. The less I am doing, the more bored and stressed I get. I’m the weird one for which happiness means a bursting schedule and a to-do list as long as I am tall. So on that note, I’m ready to go back. It’s just that doing so means the end of this chapter: the chapter of my pregnancy, Zach’s birth, and Zach’s first year of life. I gave him as much of myself as I could for this past year. We both needed it. Now it time for me to do something for myself once again.

Let the juggling begin.