If I hate certain parts of my job (writing, working on committees) and can get out of them, then why do I feel so bad about not participating? I do not work at a prestigious university; I work at a university that is small and does not have such difficult tenure requirements as others. As such, there is not the need for the publications and proposals in the same way as other places. Yet, I feel less if I am not engaging in such higher education competitive sport. I chose a job situation for which I would be able to make different time choices in regards to writing and publication, but it seems that I can't feel worthy unless I am constantly proving my worthiness in pursuits I don't really enjoy and because of my current job (teaching 5 classes), can't really be competitive in. Or is all of the latter an excuse?

Why do I feel bad not participating in pursuits that I dont like? Is there something I am not seeing?

I want to be a workaholic. The problem however is that I don't like to begin working. Once I am in it and have a good start, I pillage forward and am happy to do so. But, getting started is such a chore. How does one find the impetus to do so? You have conquered every creative area to take on. From acting and singing to writing and cleaning the world, you have done it successfully. While I know bumps have occurred and it probably didnt feel positive all the time, obviously you have the gumption to work, constantly, continually, and with power. Where does that come from and how can I find my own? I want to want to scrub!

Dearest Bette,

This morning I had a horrible realization about myself: other people's constant work makes me feel lazy and dumb. For example, a colleague from graduate school works at a prestigious university and is constantly updating her Facebook to tell about her days on end writing and her manuscripts, chapters, and other sundry writings acceptance statuses. While I am so happy for her (she is my smart friend after all), I can't help but feel lazy and not proficient at my own job (seeing as it is the same job as hers, just another university)! I need those things also to move forward in my job and yet, I would rather play catch with the dogs or go out to dinner or clean toilets than write manuscripts, an integral part of my livelihood. And if I CHOOSE to do other than work (especially and specifically write), why must I feel so damn stupid and worthless when I see others' successes?

Dearest Bette,

How do you know when to say you are done with a relationship?

When you spent time under the eyes and arms of Aaron Russo, you had many successes and also many hurts. So, how did you decide to let it go, to change the relationship's course by letting him go? And how do you tell the person, "Thank you for loving me so much, but you are now hurting me?" When someone has been so integral to your life, has shown you so much of the world and even more important, shown you unending love, how do you let them go, even if they have also shown you hurt and disappointment? Knowing in your heart that they are causing hurt and angst, how does your head let it go? Or do you just let it hurt until it dies on its own? Is there ever a time to resurect it?

Dearest Bette,

While in the window of fame, the amount of negative press and hurtful sentiment must be exorbitant. You have spoken about your angst-filled time during Jinxed and the director who bad-mouthed you to the press. Still I have heard interviews explaining the experience and feel the underlying reluctance to ever utter a negative word again.

While I too try not to gossip or become negative in my sentiments about others, I am involved in an experience right now that is the exact experience you had, someone said I said/did and has sent out powerful press about myself as "difficult to work with." And now, it is complicated and hurtful to be in my current work space. No matter what I do, there seems to be some sort of "pay back." So, how do I continue to forge ahead despite all the negative press, the hurtful statements and the horrible feelings bubbling up inside? How does one not act out, speak out in resistance to negative comments but instead prove they are likable, smart, and fun through their actions? How do I shut my mouth?

Dearest Bette,

I know that I carry a burden that time has inflicted concerning my trust of people to care for me and my feelings. I've lost some that I called friends, those that I trusted with my heart. Even those who share my blood are somewhat untrustworthy and self-preserving. So I wonder, how do you know who to trust, who will love you when you most need it? Some say they are "good judges of character," and I wonder how they know? Is it that I am lacking character judging skills and that some sort of dismissal system should be in place for those deemed unworthy of my adoration or care? Or is it that my journey consists of hurt and solitude? Maybe that my expectations and needs are too high and it is my own self that should be dismissed?

Such a bitter taste is left when one feels another, a "best friend," a part of "family," betrays the bond, hurts the core of someone else, finds themselves too busy to concern with the life of another. How, dear Bette, do you know who to trust? And, why does it feel like even your best friends are too busy to care?

Dearest Bette,

As I was driving home yesterday I was met by a slew of community workers standing on shovels watching a hydrant spew gallons and gallons of water into the air, street, and down the drain. Sitting at the stop sign, my furrowed brow in full view, I rolled down the window and asked one of the bored, orange vested workers what happened. He told me that the pressure, due to the current heavy rains, caused the hydrant to blow. I then asked if they were planning to turn it off. He said that they were after some of the pressure was alleviated. Really? As I continue to take 12 minute showers and to wash laundry in only cold, they are literally letting hundreds of gallons of water run-off?

Then there is my plastic/reusable bag experience. Carrying my own reusable bag, I bought a couple items at a department store in San Antonio, TX. Walking out, I was met by a security guard who wanted to see my receipt and when the actual bag was not on the receipt, he accused me of stealing it. He sent for reinforcements to find the exact bag in the store, despite my pleas of its reusable bag status. They never found the bag, and I was stuck waiting for them to decide it was a legit idea to bring your own bag. Then, stopping at HEB on my way home, I see each lane double bagging others' items, one thing in most of the bags. Millions and millions of plastic bags. Ahhh!

Then there are the those that walk their dogs and don't pick up, or pick up in plastic HEB bags! What a racket! Worse are all of the stray doggies and kitties roaming all over my neighborhood. Even my elderly neighbor allowed her two dogs to have puppies, 14 to be exact. So, after myself and a friend re-homing several stray dogs and cats who were street bound, there are 14 new puppies in need of homes.

How do we continue on our ecological journeys while others don't pay a note of attention? How can I continue to do my part when it seems so insurmountable? I can barely stand knowing those puppies are there and I cant stand going to HEB and seeing the bagging practices. How do you, Bette, continue to do your part while the rest of the world struggles and ignores?

Dearest Bette,

As I sat in your final Vegas show, mesmerized by the glitter, emotions, and music, I was overcome with this feeling of finality. Finality scares me some. Your show was ending, gone, and all of the happy times I had experienced in Vegas over the last 4 times I had been to see you were also final. I thought of my grandpa.

I experienced the first personal death in my life in July 2009. My grandpa with whom I spent my entire childhood died after a battle with Parkinson's Disease. I know I am very blessed to be in my 30's with only one death experience and that there are more to come. Still, the end of his life bleeds pieces from me. I find it hard to swallow the emotion of it. It wells up sometimes and makes my body feel hollow and watery. While death might be a rite of passage for the one who died, for me, it was so personal, so connected and his loss chipped away a portion of me that will never come back, never be the same. Maybe it is for those pieces that I cry. It is so final.

You sang a song with Jake Shimabukuro on ukelele, simple, gorgeous, divine. It was also the song I chose for my grandpa's funeral slide show. It is a song that is so apt, so perfect and most of all, such a clear representation of the nature of being human. As, "There are places I remember" rang out in tender tone from your lips, my heart sank. My body felt deep and hollow and then, my grandpa's pieces, the memories flooded inside me and as I watched you sing about the memories you will take from your journey in Vegas (and perhaps as a showgirl), I had a separate experience in which the words were between my grandpa and I. You were singing his memories, my memories, and your own. I miss him, that grandpa of mine.

How are we to deal with the finality of a death? How do we move on? How are we to watch those we love leave, those we cherish turn to pieces? How did you handle all of the death in your life with grace? There are more deaths to come for me, and I am petrified of the finality. Advise this tender soul?

Dearest Bette,

After many years of school, (as my students would say, I went through 22nd grade) I have been teaching literacy classes at a University. While I love teaching, both those who are little and those who are big, I sometimes have this nagging wonder about what else might be out there that I would be good at and enjoy. While I do love teaching, I wonder what else there is for me. Is it that we only have one career from which we can thrive? Is our calling singular and if we have found it, we are done? Or is it general gumption that propels some to find their multiple callings, their abilities?

I know you, Bette, have the overwhelming compulsion to do many things, and that since the beginning, you have pushed and pulled and moved through the ranks in many areas, singing, acting, gardening, and even in your marriage. Still, where does that ability come from? How are some good at so many things? Is it a personality? Is it a belief system? Is it something else?

Where does the insatiable talent and chutzpah come from and how do we know if we should listen to our own?

Dearest Bette,

Well, I came and said hello to you again, at your last Vegas show. It was such a thrill to do that, you know? Meeting someone from which you admire, in person, eye to eye. Speaking of, your eye contact is amazing. It makes the hundred other people in the room melt away. You have a way of making people feel listened to, even if, like I was, blurting and perhaps even incoherent. Thank you for that. You caused me to reassess my own eye contact, especially with adults. I think I do a good job giving children direct contact, one on one attention, but I'm not so sure I do that with adults! I almost always am talking and walking, doing and answering, reading and chatting. It is almost always dual language when I am with adults. I'm going to work on that.

My question for today surrounds loving your work. Do you always love it? I sometimes wonder if there is a difference between loving your work and loving to do all your work. I mean, as a teacher, I love working with kids, I love teaching and being in the midst of thoughts, ideas, and experimentation. I love to see people think! I love to watch and teach people about reading and literacy. I love it. Yet, I have a hard time with all the paperwork, the angst filled moments between colleagues, and the times the students, well, drive me nuts! So, while I love my work, only sometimes do I love doing all my work. Are there parts you don't like? Do the great parts supersede or do you just keep going for the reasons contained in the good parts? Does the final product outweigh the inner-project woes?

Dearest Bette,

I'm comin' to visit ya again! I leave tomorrow and my students want to be sure that I tell you about this blog. They seem to think that because I talk to them about standing up for their beliefs, asking for help, and being strong, confident and not intimidated, means that I too need to model those things. But I am so intimidated!

I saw on My Life on the D-List when you and Kathy Griffin were chatting and you said that you don't think gushing for celebrities, icons or other mentors is good, that treating them like a peer is the proper reaction. But, how does one do that? Last time I met you, I could barely talk. I had practiced what I was going to say and still I haven't got a memory of what was really said. I only know what I practiced to say. How the hell am I supposed to tell you that I need your mentorship and that I value your advice and that I think you are Divine and fabulous and gracious and...see? I begin to flush even virtually! My heart patters hard and my eyes tear up. Most unwanted, my words become jumbled and unclear. So, how does one "get over" the personal upheevel and just treat them like they are others, just like me and internally believe that they also find me interesting, lovely, and important? Help! My students are asking me to do what I ask them to do and woah-meeting you seems so much more difficult that talking to a principal, parent, or community leader!

Dearest Bette,

My question tonight is short and sweet. When put on the spot, how do know what to say? There are so many times that I have conversations and am put on the spot, maybe to divulge something, sell someone under the bus, or to own up to something. It might also be that they accost me in the hallway, knowing that I am completely busy, and they stop me, asking something that catches me off guard, and I am not good at knowing what to say! Now, I know not to divulge or talk under my breath, but how does one handle knowing what to say when put on the spot? And what do you do when you know that you are right, someone else believes you to be wrong, and there is no way to change their mind? How do you know in the moment what to say? It seems I can always imagine the conversation AFTER!

Dearest Bette,

As a teacher, I spend much energy and time finding and promoting the things that children do well. As an adult, I am very aware of the nest-like position of my classroom. These lovely children will be pushed from the warm nest and into a world that is, perhaps, not as agreeable, loving, or personally satisfying as my little classroom. Society is better at looking at its children and finding the future, positive, and smart nature of each one. We are not so clear about our own possibilities and positive affirmational nature. I have spent time as someone who was good at things as identified by blue ribbons, certificates, grades or other token reinforcers. But, in adulthood there are no real external accolade for a job well done. I get few acknowledgments (except from the loving children children who effuse regularly, perhaps knowing its power?). There are no red carpets or Globes, TV banquets or mass applause. It is not that I imagine such outward support is the key to knowing if one is doing a good job, but I wonder how someone knows when they are good at something. How do I know that I am a good at what I do?

For example, I want to write a book. I have three ideas, all personally and impacting for those readers. Yet, after a doctorate in literacy, teaching reading and writing both to children and to teachers and adults, I just am not sure if I am good enough to have anything anyone wants to hear. There are times I have been successful at writing and others in which my footing was less than stable. So, in such a busy world, how do I know if it is something I should pursue? Will it come with time? experience? When will the wisdom to understand my own talents come? When did it come for you? How do you maintain self-efficacious beliefs?

Are the things that I believe myself to be good at, really those I am great at? Or, is it that my self-esteem suffers from the idea that I could do more, I could do better? Perhaps it is that I just dont know how one knows if what they are doing is really good and if they are really using all of their talents in ways that both serve the world and themselves. So, how dis you know that you were good at what you did and does such an announcement ebb and flow? You have done it all. Please tell me how!

Dearest Bette,

For two weeks now I have been actively and positively interacting with my world, remaining sure that optimism about humanity both situationaly and personally would prevail in my spirit. The positiveity ballet has played on. I have been more positively reflective about both myself and those I come into contact with. But, boy, it is hard work! I'm sure such positive affirmations and smiling talk shouldn't seem so disconnected to me, but it feels choreful with certain people. But I am moving forward, trying to walk the walk and talk the talk. I am honestly and creatively trying to make lemonade. But, wow. It is an incredibly taxing dance, like ballet, seemingly smooth and lithe, but strong and severe.

As a celebrity I would imagine many times in which you are put into situations that are not happiness inducing, and that there are time that are so positive for those you are with and you feel so not happy to be there. How do you consistently smile and feign happy when you really aren't happy? I'm imagining that no one is completely consistent, so if not, then what mantras and other skill sets do you use to remain positive with people, especially when you just don't feel like it? I

I know that a life chock-full of optimism, generosity of spirit, and positivity is much more fulfilling and am working diligently to bring even more of it into my life. So, what are the ways you bring such joy to your life? How do people who want to remain positive ballet through life?

Dearest Bette,

I think I have been typecast at work. My work is fraught with angst and ire between certain people and more specifically, between our department head and several of us. This head is abrasive and loud, mean, and gruff. Her management style is, "Do it because I said so." For teachers, who are used to academic and personal freedom, slavery comes heavy and hard. She has alienated many, including me. Over the winter holiday, I spent much time thinking and working on who I am at work. More specifically, at work,I am seen as someone who speaks her mind, is sarcastic, and energetic. I am also "the devil's advocate." I love to be in meetings and ask about the other side, to question why and how. Being such a person can be good when working with others who like to hear all the options and sides, or it can be bad, for those who feel like questions and ideas are threatening or lessen their influence. At my work, the latter is the case. Still, I have been known to continue, reiterating and advocating to the peril of my ideas and my own sanity. So, after much deliberation and self-reflection, I discovered such issues and spent much time re-figuring a new way of being at work, a positive, helpful, and insightful colleague. No sarcasm, no angst, no un-smiling questions were to be given. My mantras include: I am kind, and generous to those I like and those I am not so sure I like; I can lead AND follow; I am willing to try. I included that I would not gossip, listen to complaining, or be involved with other "talking about bad events/people/things."

I didnt think it was going to be easy to return to a place that had perhaps not had the awakening I had over the break, but I didnt realize how damn hard being typecast is. Within the first day I had been pulled into a stairwell conversation so as not to be overheard, told that I was not as important as another teacher, and made to do something I didn't want to do. But, I held strong. I didnt say a negative thing and I didnt gossip. I listened trapped, but I acknowledged the others' feelings and left on a positive, "Wow. That must have been hard. I know it was for me too," comment. Now, the first week back is over and I am exhausted. Still, there is no change. It is so hard! I dont think my department head sees me any differently and I am afraid that I am typecast to be my old self during every interaction.

I know it is only a week, but it has been 3 years of the same thing, no change. I fear I am typecast and it will never change. How do you move forward when others only experience you as the past? How do you work through typecasting? I know you have had issues with that. Ive heard interviews concerning calls in which you were too Jewish, not Jewish enough, too short or too old. I am too young, too loud, too energetic for an Ivory Tower, too tough, too soft. What do we do? How do you move past being typecast?

Dearest Bette,

I have an elderly neighbor, Miss Eva, whom I help out occasionally, buying groceries (or delivering them), finding phone numbers, other "car needed errands," and sometimes just dropping by. I feel that it is our duty as "youngsters" to help those around us that need help, which of course, is especially important for our elderly population. So, although my thoughts are not in direct link to those who are elderly, Miss Eva is definitely one of my issue examples. Miss Eva is an impossible conversationalist! She does not stop talking and has no boundaries to ascertain if it is an appropriate time for a long conversation. But, it is not just her!

I have trouble moving through an unsolicited conversation. I am stopped in the hallway, kept on the phone, and completely interrupted such that the current activity ceases to exist and the entering person, the conversation starter, gets the stage. For there, they go on and on and on! So, often in the morning as I walk to the car, Miss Eva will stop me to ask for help or to just chat. She actually waits for me at the neighbor's porch! What she doesn't seem to consider is that I am leaving for work and don't have 20 minutes to talk! When I stop by her house, I can't stay for 2 hours. It makes me avoid her all together (drive the car to the back so she can't tell if I am at home or gone) and not going over as often. But, while this situation sounds confined, it isn't. This same thing is true when I am at work. I have a hard time getting out of conversations that are time traps. It is true when I am on the phone and a conversation is dragging and time intensive, but I can't take that much time! Yet the other person continues to yap! I know that the common factor in each conversation is me, but I struggle so! I can stand through the talk and not say a damn thing and somehow it can continue. I notice myself avoiding eye contact when I am busy, but still it is difficult and not helping, for the most part. Today at work, I totaled 1 hour of lost working time! I actually tallied it!

I imagine in show business there are never-ending experiences in which you are stuck talking to someone that you don't really want to be talking to or someone who beseeches you as you are moving through your life on another errand. So, my question is, how do you move through a conversation such that the person you are talking to feels acknowledged, but the conversation is efficient and appropriate for the time you have? How do you pay homage, be seen as nice and kind, and yet end a conversation? Help!

Dearest Bette,

Work began again and students fill the desks before me. Others around me, both teachers and administrators are abuzz with the beginning of the year angst and excitement. I spent this winter holiday thinking and reassessing who I am, as a teacher and a person, and what I want out of my job. Now, let me give a little caveat, I love working with kids and with teachers, it is the "other" parts I have ire towards. And after much internal work, meditation, and writing, I entered the new semester with a plan to be positive, personable, and most importantly, non-complaining.

And then...others whom came back to school with the already knowing understanding of how this particular space is, lured me and plagued my new self. I did better than I have in other semesters, but I was not happy with the ways others were being treated and talked about and I struggled to know if I was to stay quiet or speak for those less able. I found myself upset at an administrator for how she was treating another teacher. I know that ultimately, I am responsible for my students and myself and I know for sure that if I was to speak up, I would get the angst from others, and yet, I must be a leader for those less fortunate or less able to speak, right? So how do I balance both my goals and take care to ensure the success of those on my team, those around me?

I guess what I am asking is, how do you balance your own, personal goals and needs with those whom are around you, especially those who compromise, undermine, or are abrasive towards your goals, attention, and self? What do you do when you must work with (or under) someone who is not supportive of who you are and what you want you want to achieve? How can I keep on track in a world of derailment and angst, a world in which bad news, energy, and will shroud me?

Dearest Bette,

I have spent about 34 years thinking that the Earth did things to me or that I deserved all the ill will that came my way. When something happened, it happened TO ME. For example, when I was not offered a job at CUNY, the world did it to me, the world chose for me not to have the job, to lose the opportunity to move to New York. It was the world's fault. The other way I handled things was to say that it was completely my fault, I deserved to not be chosen. When I didnt get a parking spot, the world didnt want me to and I am being punished. Now, don't ask me what I am being punished for. I don't know. I am a good, ethical, generous, and kind person. I work with children and adults and I save animals. I work hard everyday and give my best. I am thoughtful and nice. So, why do I deserve bad things? I dont know. I just do. I have been thinking a lot on this lately, and have come to believe that I must feel like I am not good enough to deserve good things, positive happenings in my life. How can that be? How can it be that I am not good enough? I work everyday, help old people, teach children, re-home animals, give money and time. I am nice and smart. I have a PhD dammit! It doesnt make sense!

So, why do I feel so inferior when logically I know I am a good person, a capable, warm person? Bette, I have seen your career fall, and seen you step away for awhile. Ive also seen it soar and success after success abound. I know you have had precious people die, and others show you how to live. You have had ups and downs just like me, and you, Bette, have exited victorious. Yet, I know you worked to get to a place in which your own locus of control was more powerful than those voices out in the world. So, how did you get there? How do you move to notice and admire the things about yourself that make you deserving, capable, confident, and most importantly, happy? How do you silence the world as well as that pessimistic, liar of an inner self that summons you sometimes?

My Imaginary Reader: Bette Midler

When teaching writing to youngsters, I talk to them about different types of writing. One that many have done is diary writing. We discuss what made them want to write a diary, keep a journal or other forms of daily, weekly life thoughts on paper. They talk about the need to get things out, to share what their thoughts are, and to not be judged. It is ultimately decided that journaling is about sharing something. So I ask them, "Who are you sharing it with," or "who are you writing to?" Undoubtedly, they imagine someone. Some students say God, others a make up an imaginary person, and others write to a parental figure be it a teacher or parent. Most recite that diaries are somewhat secret and that they do not expect that imagined person to really read their thoughts, but that having the potential person listening is important. So, this is my attempt to journal like a child. This journal is written to my imagined reader, Bette Midler, the Divine Miss M.

For 22 years I have watched her life. As an adult, I met her after her Vegas show last week and had an overwhelming feeling of wanting to sit and talk to her over coffee about life, love, and traversing this world. I see her as someone who has done it; she has made it through the ups and downs, the self-questioning of both her gregarious self and the quiet one, and now seems to be in a place where she gets to be accepted as herself, all of her possible selves. She has found love: for her family, her career, her Earth, and herself. I want those things too and imagine conversations with her that would help mentor me on my adulthood journey. Meeting her solidified my want to have a long conversation with her. I need her to chat with me. So, this is my conversation, my journal to Bette.

Do I imagine her reading this? No, probably not, but it is not completely a null idea, I suppose. Maybe the chance of a coffee chat is enough to get me thinking, processing, and journaling? So, "Hi, Bette. I'm Jenny and I've met you before. These are my questions and ideas, things I'd like to discuss with you someday."