Thursday, September 22, 2005

Standoff is off

Did someone call my house? The suitcase got put away last night.....

I haven't worked out since last Thursday and I can't get my butt in gear to go...

I feel so lethargic, like I could sleep for about 12 hours straight, but when I try, I can't sleep for more than four hours..


I think people who snore should all live together, and leave those of us who don't, alone.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Standoff - Day 2

My first husband got home from a 4 day trip for this and his luggage took an extra day's vacation. He finally got it Monday afternoon, and gave us our souvenirs that night.

He unpacked his suitcase sometime in the afternoon, and the suitcase sits at the top of the stairs. I wonder how long it will take him to bring it down to the basement where it belongs... Last time we traveled, the suitcase stayed in our bedroom for months.

We'll see how long this takes.

Am I passive-aggressive????

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Looking Back

A look back
I found this on the blogs of Stennie and Kriz, and Stennie talked about the one she saw only did Ten Years, Five Years and One Year. She said she was “stretching boundaries” by starting at Thirty Years.

I am the old timer of my friends. They went back 30 years, and they were too young to remember anything….wimps.

Forty Years ago – 1965 This was the year I was in the third grade, and my teacher was a man who had some sort of bladder issues, because he was always standing in front of the room with his legs crossed like little boys who had to pee. This was also the year I met Chris K., the crush of my life (which ended ten years later) Gail V., my still best and oldest (due to duration) friend on the planet and the first year I found out that not all people liked Jews. Oh wait, I just realized, in New York, because the cutoff was Dec 1 for Kindergarteners to be 5, I was actually in the 4th grade. We moved to California a year later. (Hey, it was a long time ago…) So my teacher was Mrs. Polhemus, and she thought she was all that. The price of stamps went up that year, and the aforementioned Chris was the only person in the class who knew that the reason to increase stamps was to give the mailman a raise. She was so happy, she chased him around the classroom to give him a kiss. Yes, he was that cute. Can you say Mary Jane LaTurneau?

Thirty Years Ago - 1975: This was the year I graduated from High school. I went back to New York to visit aforementioned Gail and she invited Chris to her house for a party. He was very self absorbed, and could only talk about Rugby. The spring show was “Once Upon a Mattress” and I played Princess #12. I made out with my first Jewish boyfriend, whom my parents hated. (Yeah, I knew how to pick them back then…) Since I just returned recently from my 30 year reunion (OY) I can tell you that my senior year was dismal as far as connections with my classmates. Jon C. (a friend since the 7th grade) and I went to the prom together, and we remain friends to this day. I went off to college at UCBerkeley, that fall and turned 18 on election day!! I got royally dumped by my first real boyfriend at Christmas, more than likely because I wouldn’t go all the way with him. My friend Jill became a Moonie, and I was there to watch and be amazed at the whole process of her being sucked in, kidnapped by her parents and de-programmed. I met Bev, another life-long friend, and got involved with the college radio station.

Twenty-Five Years Ago - 1980: OK, so college went quickly, I did the 4 year plan. I was working for BofA and dating a man a few years older than I was. He was a wanna be rock promoter, making a living dealing pot. (See, I got a lot better at picking out boyfriends!) He took care of me, in a sort of Svengali-ish way. He had a problem with commitment, in that he stood me up for a lot of dates. He didn’t graduate from college, and his family was the poster family for White Trash Nation, but his mother and grandmother truly loved me, and I have never to this day been able to find a mother/grandmother of a man who loved their son’s choice as much.

Twenty Years Ago - 1985: I was engaged to my first husband. Even before we were engaged, he came and watched almost every rehearsal for “Children of a Lesser God” which I was stage managing. He came with me to my 10 year high school reunion and we both wore tuxedos. We went with Jon C and had THE MOST FUN staying overnight at the Beverly Wilshire, the scene of my prom, the same hotel where John Belushi had recently died. I spent that whole year planning my wedding, which took place early in 1986. I experience my first loss of a friend, to aids. I started volunteering with different Aids Awareness organizations in SF (where they were quite prevalent)

Fifteen Years Ago - 1990: This was the best/worst/most fortuitous year of my life. I had left that “personal effectiveness training” company, which had bordered on cultism, and began working for the most amazing attorney doing plaintiff medical malpractice.

Ten Years Ago - 1995: I did my first BTG show as the Queen in Alice in Wonderland. My first Bellingham friend, Kaci, moved away and I could not stop crying for three days. I met Mattie, and she became my new best friend. Baby Brother and Big Sister were in school, and I was working part time at the Synagogue. I didn’t go to my reunion, I had gone to my big brother’s the year before. We sat with Nina, my best friend since 10th grade, and three months later her husband killed her. My new passion became working with the community, educating about Domestic Violence.

Five Years Ago - 2000: This was the year I became the de-facto director of “Schoolhouse Rock” at BTG. The good thing about this show was that I met Jana, my music director and the bad thing was that the directing experience SUCKED!!! Jana and my Stage manager bought me rubber bands to wear as Behavior Modification so that if I ever wanted to direct there again, I could inflict the same pain more quickly. Did I mention I’m about to direct “Once Upon a Mattress” and that auditions are tomorrow? Mattie and I were still best friends, and my first husband and I were having problems. One day, I even took off my wedding ring and went to her house in tears. She asked me to not talk to her about stuff like that anymore. I felt like I got hit in the gut. What were best friends for? Things have never been the same. And then a door opened and I met Gregory, who has since become my new best friend. I started interpreting more in the public school.

One Year Ago - 2004: Why does it feel like 40 years ago was more memorable? Baby Brother started middle school, Big Sister went into high school. I still loved my job. I weighed 30 pounds less than I do today. I was suffering excruciating back pain every day and severe discomfort every month. In August, I scheduled the big surgery for December. It’s all just a bad memory now.

I love/hate the kinds of things you read on blogs where the last three words are “you are tagged.” Go for it.

Friday, September 16, 2005

Lancing a boil

Last night I did an outline of what I was going to say when I quit. This morning, I practiced in front of Baby Brother. He said it took about 30 seconds. I knew I needed to slow down...

Today at work was a particularly strange day. I worked on a crisis project for three hours, and then had to leave for a funeral. I came back around 2, and walked around in a fog, trying to focus and gather my thoughts to get ready for what I expected to be a big altercation. The adrenalin was flying.

Here is exactly what happened, since I know you want to know.

I waited until the end of the day (4pm.) PM was headed upstairs, and I asked her to come with me to talk to ED. We went onto ED's office and I closed the door. I said that the events of this particular day did not have any bearing on what I was about to tell them, and in fact, I realized more today my worth and value to the agency, and it made what I had to say more difficult. I explained that I had been unhappy since I came back from my medical leave when I started sharing an office. I explained that I loved the agency, staff, the social workers from DCFS and its mission, and reminded them that I had developed good working relationships with outside sources. I had been content, until June, when after realizing the inequity in pay, I asked for a $2 raise, of which I received less than half. Again, I was somewhat (less) content, but willing to stay, still frustrated with the working environment, of which I kept PM updated. When the new development job opened, I told my support group of friends who encouraged me to go for it. I only applied for it AFTER I told PM, and I didn't get an interview, ("yet" ED interjected). When I told my support group about the slight, they were shocked. I told ED and PM that what came out of that experience was that I was recruited by another agency and that I had accepted the job. This all probably took about 2 minutes. I'm glad I practiced.

You could have heard a pin drop, and that's hard on Astroturf carpeting.

15 minutes later, I finally escaped to my office, after PM therapizing me with "what do you really want? Am I hearing that you aren't challenged here? What would it take to keep you? Two weeks notice just isn't enough time. Blah, blah, blah" I told PM that the challenge wasn't the issue, that I can create all the systems in the world, always making my job easier and faster, and instead of rewarding me with a shorter day, I'm asked to keep working 30 hours a week, Or I'm given more work to do with the most increased compensation limited to 1.5%. Meanwhile, mediocrity is never penalized. I told them that a lot of frustration comes from my working very hard and not working in an environment where my co-workers are dedicated to what they are doing. (BTW, I know that's because you get what you pay for, but I decided not to bring that up.) I told PM that her promising me an office now felt like I was becoming a whiner, and I didn't want to have that kind of relationship with her or the agency. I didn't want her to respond to me only because I was basically making it sound like an ultimatum.

ED, ever the poker player, thinks my quitting is in reaction to my not getting an interview. He said the reason I didn't get an interview "yet" is because they were first meeting the applicants who had more direct development experience (including DD the incompetent) and I said that after two years, I was disappointed that he didn't recognize that in 6 months, I'd be more valuable than anyone he was interviewing, and that I wasn't even given the chance to present that in an interview. (I guess I'm pretty offended, but I'll get over it) Then it got real quiet in the room again, and I said I'd be leaving them to talk amongst themselves. And I did leave, and went straight to the bar!!!

Any questions?

Oh, what do you think of these, to follow QOATIP as my job title?

DOA Director of Office Administration

ODD Office Development Director

SOS - Supervisor Of Stuff

GOD Guardianship Office Director

AHAH Administrative Helper And Human

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Be Careful what you Blog For

Now we are in the process of deciding what my job title is going to be printed on my new business cards. High in the running is QOATIP. No shit.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Holding up the Mirror

I have been in job crisis since last fall.

Oh, I love my job (sorta) and I think my agency is the best, but working there has been "challenging" for the past 8 months.

For instance, I really don't like sharing an office. There. I said it. I think I'm old enough to have my own office, since I'm not someone's "secretary" or "assistant" I should have my own office. With a desk that is not at a 15 degree angle slope to the right (or left, if the desk is facing the wall) I've tried working with my back to the door (I know, bad Feng Shue) and now, I'm facing the door, but I have become enmeshed in daily conversations with passers by and people who think I need to be entertained. Sometimes, the tuna/hamburger/meat loaf lunch smell does bug me.

Second, I've pretty much maxed out the job, in that I don't think there is anything I haven't tackled.

Also, I am constantly frustrated by the inability of some people to figure out how to do their job. We have some really smart people there, and also, some not so smart. I really am a snob when it comes to working with low intelligence.

Then it happened. A job opened up at the agency that was PERFECT for me. Actually, when the description was written, they basically copied my resume, save a few qualifications (not critical ones, mind you) And I'd get a big raise. And I could help the agency grow. And and and I'd get my own office.

I applied for it, and didn't get called in for an interview. I was told I had "good skills and valuable assets" but was not called in for an interview. They called about 6 people in for an interview, and I was told if none of them worked out, they'd interview me...Second String.

How's that for a warm and fuzzy feeling?

So I talked to my other best friend, a woman I used to work with, who was very supportive, and, long story short, offered me a job!

So, great. Someone wants me for my brains and skills and wants me to succeed with them, and benefit from and with their success. How rare is that in an employer/employee situation?

So I called my little sister (not baby sister, another conversation about trying to process with her) and little sister holds up the mirror.

"Every time I talk to you," she says, "you tell me you hate going to work at your job. When I told you I hated my job, you said, 'Life is too short to do something every day that you hate. It makes you cranky, and the people you love suffer for you every day.'"

Or something like that.

Yeah, I guess sometimes people listen to me. I wonder if I have the guts to take my own advice?


So I tell the (other job) partners what I want as far as $$ and hours, and they flat out said YES!!


But, YEAH!!

Now I have to quit my job. But how? I'm open to suggestions. The event is tentatively scheduled for Friday afternoon. My last day would be the 30th.

Sunday, September 11, 2005

I hate Mondays

Sometimes, One cup of coffee just isn't enough.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005


For all of my school life, FDOS and LDOS were always my favorite days. Now I am a mom, and I only like one of them.

One of my favorite things to do as a mom is take their pictures the first day of school. Baby brother asked what would happen if he refused. I threatened to cancel the DSL. Hee Hee. I thrive on power and control. Does that make me a bad mom?

Baby Brother will be 13 in October, and here he is, acting the part.

Daughter will turn 16. This morning when she picked up her school schedule, she reached for the Grad Nite brochure. (She's only a Sophomore, for God's sake!!) I about swallowed my tongue.


Batula, Batwoman and Batmares

So when we last left our story, Batula had been caught, had tested positive for rabies, and Daughter was on her way to the infusion center of this hospital for her first of many many injections.

When the woman from the Health Department called me at work to tell me that the bat was positive, I admit I started to break down and become a little hysterical. The woman said, "you know, I really need you to focus here..."

Yeah, she's lucky she was on the phone when she said that. I'd been "focused" since 1:30 am that Saturday, and this was the first time I had started shaking, well, first time since I actually trapped Batula in the Tupperware.... Nevertheless, I sucked it up and moved on.

By 6pm, Daughter and I were on our way to the hospital for her first "shot," both ready for whatever was next. Well, I was not ready, I had no idea what to expect, but some of it included potential screaming, crying and trying to escape large pointy needles. And who knew what Daughter would do?

I have to say, when in the face of potentially hysterical moms and their wunderkind, the nurses in town do very well. Daughter and I waited for the shot(s) to be prepared, alone in the infusion department, happily in the presence of cable TV, watching the episode of Friends where we find out that Ross is the father of Rachel's baby. (I hope I didn't ruin that for you!!)

Gammaglobulin is a huge fucking big shot of goo, which they split into three semi huge fucking shots and stuck in her thighs. Then the vaccine went into her arm. She was quite the trooper, and came home and IM'd three conversations with friends about it at the same time.

That night, the night I got the horrible phone call, the night I watched the needles save my daughter's life, I had dreams of Batula coming at me from the window, fangs bared.

By the next day, Daughter couldn't raise her left arm, which is sorta ok cuz she's right handed, but sorta bad because she couldn't play the piano and she had a lesson, after all!

Now we have relaxed into a calm, a Zen if you will, of the shot series. She goes again today, and then the 21st. I just wonder if she gets bitten by another rabid animal between now and then, if she's covered? Oy.

Friday, September 02, 2005

Gimme that remote!

OK so the bat story will have to wait, I gotta ventilate here. I have been reading and listening and yelling and pounding my fist all week about what's happening in the southeast corner, and I have to share my day with y'all.

First, this came in from my cousin, whom I adore:

"Where are all of our resources for this disaster in Louisiana? THEY ARE IN IRAQ! A good friend said it best; the Terrorists must be having quite a laugh at us right now at how vulnerable we are, cannot even take care of our dying people. It is a disgrace.

Now that I am done with my soapbox. We have just finished donating to the Red Cross. The point of my email is for you to please be careful when you donate. Make sure it is a reputable organization that will send at least 80 % to where it should go. NBC Today did a piece on what to watch out for when you donate. More info on NBC Today website if you need to know where to send a much needed donation. Thanks for your time. How lucky we all are."

Oh yes, I yelled, you go girl!

Then, I listened (twice) to the Mayor of New Orleans, who made the most lucid and brilliant comments with regard to the way his part of the state/country was being treated by the "haves"

Later in the afternoon, my cousin sent this,

"My apologies for my am email. This is no time for expressing views on Iraq, that was not my intentions. I received a beautiful email from a very close friend who, although, believes as I do in many ways, reminded me this was no time to express ideas that divide. It is a time to be thankful for how blessed we are, send what we can. Again, I am sorry it was out of frustration watching these poor suffering people. I simply should have just sent the info on where to send donations. "
apparently because some right wing fundamentalist, (who, I am embarrassed to say, I am related to...) got on her case.

Then, My Favorite Michael said this:

Friday, September 2nd, 2005
Dear Mr. Bush:
Any idea where all our helicopters are? It's Day 5 of Hurricane Katrina and thousands remain stranded in New Orleans and need to be airlifted. Where on earth could you have misplaced all our military choppers? Do you need help finding them? I once lost my car in a Sears parking lot. Man, was that a drag.
Also, any idea where all our national guard soldiers are? We could really use them right now for the type of thing they signed up to do like helping with national disasters. How come they weren't there to begin with?
Last Thursday I was in south Florida and sat outside while the eye of Hurricane Katrina passed over my head. It was only a Category 1 then but it was pretty nasty. Eleven people died and, as of today, there were still homes without power. That night the weatherman said this storm was on its way to New Orleans. That was Thursday! Did anybody tell you? I know you didn't want to interrupt your vacation and I know how you don't like to get bad news. Plus, you had fundraisers to go to and mothers of dead soldiers to ignore and smear. You sure showed her!
I especially like how, the day after the hurricane, instead of flying to Louisiana, you flew to San Diego to party with your business peeps. Don't let people criticize you for this -- after all, the hurricane was over and what the heck could you do, put your finger in the dike?
And don't listen to those who, in the coming days, will reveal how you specifically reduced the Army Corps of Engineers' budget for New Orleans this summer for the third year in a row. You just tell them that even if you hadn't cut the money to fix those levees, there weren't going to be any Army engineers to fix them anyway because you had a much more important construction job for them -- BUILDING DEMOCRACY IN IRAQ!
On Day 3, when you finally left your vacation home, I have to say I was moved by how you had your Air Force One pilot descend from the clouds as you flew over New Orleans so you could catch a quick look of the disaster. Hey, I know you couldn't stop and grab a bullhorn and stand on some rubble and act like a commander in chief. Been there done that.
There will be those who will try to politicize this tragedy and try to use it against you. Just have your people keep pointing that out. Respond to nothing. Even those pesky scientists who predicted this would happen because the water in the Gulf of Mexico is getting hotter and hotter making a storm like this inevitable. Ignore them and all their global warming Chicken Littles. There is nothing unusual about a hurricane that was so wide it would be like having one F-4 tornado that stretched from New York to Cleveland.
No, Mr. Bush, you just stay the course. It's not your fault that 30 percent of New Orleans lives in poverty or that tens of thousands had no transportation to get out of town. C'mon, they're black! I mean, it's not like this happened to Kennebunkport. Can you imagine leaving white people on their roofs for five days? Don't make me laugh! Race has nothing -- NOTHING -- to do with this!
You hang in there, Mr. Bush. Just try to find a few of our Army helicopters and send them there. Pretend the people of New Orleans and the Gulf Coast are near Tikrit.
Michael Moore
P.S. That annoying mother, Cindy Sheehan, is no longer at your ranch. She and dozens of other relatives of the Iraqi War dead are now driving across the country, stopping in many cities along the way. Maybe you can catch up with them before they get to DC on September 21st.

And finally, the icing on my day, where a picture and it's caption is more powerful, telling and reinforcing of the absolute truth of what is the basis of the problem:

OK, so why is it that everyone I know (who isn't in charge) can come up with a plan, and those morons who are in charge are still trying to figure it out, 5 days and hundreds of lives later? I am ashamed.