This place where I work makes me want to drink. So tonight, I want to get drunk. No, it's not my birthday until tomorrow, but I don't want to wait. I want to do it tonight. It's either drink, or kill all the losers at my place of employment. Anyone want to join me?
PS
Join me in drinking, that is. Not the killing.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Memo From the Boss - Translation.
For those of you who don't know my boss, I have provided a translation of her memo. Hopefully this will shed some light for you.
Because I respect all of you, I have drafted this Memo to provide you with some information about changes and areas of accountability and integrity our leadership team has been working on. I would like to have a staff meeting at 11am on Tuesday and you will all have the opportunity to discuss any of these areas that are applicable to all. If it is personal please schedule a time to meet with me to discuss your concerns.
Because I don't respect any of you, but none of you are intelligent enough to realize this, I am writing this memo to let you all know what I and the supervisors have been concocting behind your backs. Tomorrow at 11am we will have a meeting in which you will all sit quietly whilst I and the supervisors will remind you what a bunch of failures you are and how much we do not value you as employees. I will also remind you that I am the micromanager from hell and I, as well as plenty of my spies, am watching you. If you have any issues with this, please see me behind closed doors where no one will be able to witness or overhear our conversation, and therefore I can pretend it never happened.
I am asking all of you to curtail your personal conversations, texting, personal phone calls and personal internet and web use. Neither Lynne or I want to be the "ethics police".
This rule does not apply to me, to L., to J., nor to C.. This rule also does not apply regarding e-mails of a religious or political nature that I find agreeable. It only applies to you. And while L. nor I desire to be the ethics police, we will continue to harass you about these things on a daily basis, regardless of whether or not you are doing any of them (please refer to the last paragraph: I am insulting your intelligence with this paragraph. But you my employees are too stupid to know that).
C. will be supervising the clinical services of Home Health and functioning more as a manager of that program with an emphasis on compliance, justification of medical necessity, quality of care and clinical delegation and resource manager.
This is not in any way an indication that C. will now be expected to actually do her job. Rather, I've just given her a bunch of fancy titles that will now allow for her to push back even harder when co-workers ask her to please perform her duties. Please, do not highlight anything that she might look at!!!
We will be changing payroll companies and one of the benefits will be they have a feature called Web clock. We will all be logging in our times "starting and ending" work. We also are implementing a time in and out of the building log at the front desk. So please remember to use it. All of us.
I am absolutely taking no chances with you lying crooks. In case there is an issue with the webclock, I have implemented the in and out of the building log. I realize some of you who pretend to be productive may find this redundant, but I don't care. If you are somehow able to hack into the webclock system (which I fully expect you to do, being as how you are all nothing but dirty thieves) in order to make changes to your time cards, you will still be unable to cheat me out of a single penny because of the timelog downstairs, and also because I have forced the receptionist to be my spy.
Because I respect all of you, I have drafted this Memo to provide you with some information about changes and areas of accountability and integrity our leadership team has been working on. I would like to have a staff meeting at 11am on Tuesday and you will all have the opportunity to discuss any of these areas that are applicable to all. If it is personal please schedule a time to meet with me to discuss your concerns.
Because I don't respect any of you, but none of you are intelligent enough to realize this, I am writing this memo to let you all know what I and the supervisors have been concocting behind your backs. Tomorrow at 11am we will have a meeting in which you will all sit quietly whilst I and the supervisors will remind you what a bunch of failures you are and how much we do not value you as employees. I will also remind you that I am the micromanager from hell and I, as well as plenty of my spies, am watching you. If you have any issues with this, please see me behind closed doors where no one will be able to witness or overhear our conversation, and therefore I can pretend it never happened.
I am asking all of you to curtail your personal conversations, texting, personal phone calls and personal internet and web use. Neither Lynne or I want to be the "ethics police".
This rule does not apply to me, to L., to J., nor to C.. This rule also does not apply regarding e-mails of a religious or political nature that I find agreeable. It only applies to you. And while L. nor I desire to be the ethics police, we will continue to harass you about these things on a daily basis, regardless of whether or not you are doing any of them (please refer to the last paragraph: I am insulting your intelligence with this paragraph. But you my employees are too stupid to know that).
C. will be supervising the clinical services of Home Health and functioning more as a manager of that program with an emphasis on compliance, justification of medical necessity, quality of care and clinical delegation and resource manager.
This is not in any way an indication that C. will now be expected to actually do her job. Rather, I've just given her a bunch of fancy titles that will now allow for her to push back even harder when co-workers ask her to please perform her duties. Please, do not highlight anything that she might look at!!!
We will be changing payroll companies and one of the benefits will be they have a feature called Web clock. We will all be logging in our times "starting and ending" work. We also are implementing a time in and out of the building log at the front desk. So please remember to use it. All of us.
I am absolutely taking no chances with you lying crooks. In case there is an issue with the webclock, I have implemented the in and out of the building log. I realize some of you who pretend to be productive may find this redundant, but I don't care. If you are somehow able to hack into the webclock system (which I fully expect you to do, being as how you are all nothing but dirty thieves) in order to make changes to your time cards, you will still be unable to cheat me out of a single penny because of the timelog downstairs, and also because I have forced the receptionist to be my spy.
Holiday vacations have all been approved so if you have not been approved or put in for time off please plan to work your regular scheduled hours. People who worked excessive OT last holiday while surveyors were here have been given first priority for time with their families this year. We will be open the day after Thanksgiving and Christmas and closed on Thanksgiving and Christmas as well as Thursday New Years Day and open on Friday. Full time employees are paid for the holidays. Currently we have a freeze on all overtime. If you do not have any flex time please do not plan to take time off. You need to allow Lynne a week to approve requested time off so she can assure coverage of responsibilities and clear the requests with me and your direct supervisor. Do not book flights or make reservations without prior approval.
Holidays are times when people typically request alot of time off, under the guise of the desire to be with their families. Since I do not have a legitimate excuse this year to prevent you from taking any time off (I had the audits last year), I am going to simply say that for the holidays this year you will not be allowed any more time off, unless it has been approved prior, and only if you have flex time. There is no reason for this other than I cannot stand it when anyone is gone, whether or not this time was approved in advance or is simply a sick day. Whether it is for a death in the family or for the holidays (if you get time off approved because your 16 year old neice Kaziah dies in a car accident then you had better be sure you have it in writing because whether you have flex time or not I will write you up - behind your back of course - you will not be informed). Whether you work is completely finished before you leave and no one has to do anything for you while you are gone, I don't care. You taking time off is just another way of you crooks cheating me out of something that is rightfully mine (complete and utter control over every aspect of your lives), and I cannot allow that! Even though time off without flex time is allowed throughout the year and has never been a problem, this will not be allowed during the holidays nor for deaths in the family. All three of my children hate me, and so I hate anything that resembles family or family relationships. Plus, my life is so empty and meaningless that I need to make everyone else's lives that way as well. Holidays quite frankly piss me off, so I am determined to make everyone else miserable on these occasions (even more so at deaths in the family because I wish I was dead). L. needs a week to approve requests because she needs to run them by me (not your supervisors - they are just figureheads), and I need to decide in each individual case if time off should be allowed, based upon my mood at the time. None of these decisions will be based on logic. And do not bother trying to use the excuse of plane tickets and reservations. So you lose some money. Big deal. As long as it's not my money, I don't care.
I wanted to thank you all for what you do each and every day to help assure we function as a professional organization and welcome any other suggestions on quality improvement. I am very optimistic and encouraged by the direction we are taking and feel there is a greater sense of focus and commitment to quality than I have seen in a long time. I value each and every one of you and appreciate your loyalty and integrity.
Respectfully and with most sincere personal regards, Sandra
I am insulting your intelligence with this paragraph. But you my employees are too stupid to know that. As far as I am concerned, you are all my slaves. The only reason I pay you is because the government makes me. You should feel lucky I am not forcing you to preform sexual favors. Oh yeah, but if J.McKay tries to, I will do absolutely nothing about it (because he used to be my lover and he is L.'s personal friend).
In the most sincere way, suck my @ss, Sandra
To the Old Man at the Gym
I hope for your sake you are not on the Stairmaster for OVER AN HOUR (for the third Sunday in a row) the next time I see you at the gym! There are only two of those machines in the entire gym. It would be polite not to spend so much time on one of them while others are WAITING!!!
I would really hate to see you accidentally fall off of the Stairmaster...that could be dangerous for a man of your age.
I would really hate to see you accidentally fall off of the Stairmaster...that could be dangerous for a man of your age.
PS
Nevermind. I don't even know why I care. I hate the Stairmaster. Every time I get on it my body screams profanities at me throughout the entire thirty minutes. In fact, I should be happy that you are on it every single Sunday. I should be asking you to please be using it everytime I go to the gym so I have an excuse for not using it. It is the devil!
Friday, October 24, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Name Change
I have, at long last, changed my name.
You will now address me by my new, full name:
Goddess You Are Beautiful I Worship You.
Hahahahaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!! Oh, I crack myself up!
Ok so I actually just changed it back from my adopted name to the name my biological dad gave me...Kathleen Yates.
But I'll still go byKatie!
You will now address me by my new, full name:
Goddess You Are Beautiful I Worship You.
Hahahahaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!! Oh, I crack myself up!
Ok so I actually just changed it back from my adopted name to the name my biological dad gave me...Kathleen Yates.
But I'll still go byKatie!
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
This is not a hate blog
Barbie,
Perhaps if you would spend as much time doing your job as you do on personal phone calls, you wouldn't have to keep pawning off your work on me. Perhaps if you would pay more attention to the work you actually are doing, instead of goofing off and gossiping, you would not have to endure the humiliation of the accountants reminding you every single Thursday how to do simple tasks such as posting payments. Or maybe, you could even avoid being dragged into your boss' office to be chewed out for failing, repeatedly, to do your work correctly.
This is not an exaggeration. I have literally counted the number of personal phone calls you've had today. Ten. This does not include outgoing calls. You've taken ten personal phone calls, and yet you have to pawn off your co-pay billing on me. I have twice the work you do, you are paid $4.00 more an hour than me, and yet you are still giving me your work. And may I remind you that you have Mondays and Fridays off. Why don't you take your phone calls on these days?
I should not be surprised that someone who likes Bill O'Reilly and is ridiculous enough to {still} admit to voting for George W.Bush would have such a poor work ethic. Well. I won't be here much longer, and then you will have to do all of my work and all of your work, and then I'd like to see how many personal phone calls you can take then!
This is not a hate blog.
This is an "I'm as mad as HELL and I'm not going to take it anymore!!!" blog.
PS
Bite my ass!!!
Perhaps if you would spend as much time doing your job as you do on personal phone calls, you wouldn't have to keep pawning off your work on me. Perhaps if you would pay more attention to the work you actually are doing, instead of goofing off and gossiping, you would not have to endure the humiliation of the accountants reminding you every single Thursday how to do simple tasks such as posting payments. Or maybe, you could even avoid being dragged into your boss' office to be chewed out for failing, repeatedly, to do your work correctly.
This is not an exaggeration. I have literally counted the number of personal phone calls you've had today. Ten. This does not include outgoing calls. You've taken ten personal phone calls, and yet you have to pawn off your co-pay billing on me. I have twice the work you do, you are paid $4.00 more an hour than me, and yet you are still giving me your work. And may I remind you that you have Mondays and Fridays off. Why don't you take your phone calls on these days?
I should not be surprised that someone who likes Bill O'Reilly and is ridiculous enough to {still} admit to voting for George W.Bush would have such a poor work ethic. Well. I won't be here much longer, and then you will have to do all of my work and all of your work, and then I'd like to see how many personal phone calls you can take then!
This is not a hate blog.
This is an "I'm as mad as HELL and I'm not going to take it anymore!!!" blog.
PS
Bite my ass!!!
Friday, October 17, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
October 16th
Every year when the third day of July arrives, how I wish for a terrible storm! I wish the heavens would be covered with ominous blue-black clouds, so that the day becomes night. I wish for thunder to crash and lightening to streak across the sky until my hair is static with electricity. On the next day, the sun can shine as long and as hot as it pleases. But on the third, I'll take the storm.
Still, that is not the day I miss you most.
I miss you most today. The 16th of October.
In October, when the leaves change from green to all the various reds and browns and golds, and begin to drift from their branches to settle on the ground, I think of you.
When the air is cool and the smell of woodsmoke fills the air, I miss you.
When I am baking, and the smell of pumpkin bread filters through my home, I remember you.
Every time my heart gets broken, or a friend betrays me, I miss you.
When someone bullies me and I feel weak, I wish that you were here (you always said I was the strong one).
When I am crying tears of loneliness, I wish that you were here to remind me that I have always been independent. (It's better that way, you said. Men will only tie you down anyway - ha!)
When I carve a Jack-o-Lantern, with newspaper spread across the kitchen floor, I remember how you used to toast the seeds for us to eat...and I miss you.
I don't know why it's so hard for me today, thinking of you. I've hardly cried for you, before. How long has it been? Ten years. Your oak tree is quite tall now. Why do I cry so now instead of then?
Thank you for loving me - in the way that you understood love. Thank you for teaching me to cook, and for teaching me etiquette. Thank you for teaching me independence. Thank you for calling me on my birthday when everyone else had forgotten me. Thank you for telling me that you were proud of me before you left.
Happy Birthday, Mom. Be at peace.
Still, that is not the day I miss you most.
I miss you most today. The 16th of October.
In October, when the leaves change from green to all the various reds and browns and golds, and begin to drift from their branches to settle on the ground, I think of you.
When the air is cool and the smell of woodsmoke fills the air, I miss you.
When I am baking, and the smell of pumpkin bread filters through my home, I remember you.
Every time my heart gets broken, or a friend betrays me, I miss you.
When someone bullies me and I feel weak, I wish that you were here (you always said I was the strong one).
When I am crying tears of loneliness, I wish that you were here to remind me that I have always been independent. (It's better that way, you said. Men will only tie you down anyway - ha!)
When I carve a Jack-o-Lantern, with newspaper spread across the kitchen floor, I remember how you used to toast the seeds for us to eat...and I miss you.
I don't know why it's so hard for me today, thinking of you. I've hardly cried for you, before. How long has it been? Ten years. Your oak tree is quite tall now. Why do I cry so now instead of then?
Thank you for loving me - in the way that you understood love. Thank you for teaching me to cook, and for teaching me etiquette. Thank you for teaching me independence. Thank you for calling me on my birthday when everyone else had forgotten me. Thank you for telling me that you were proud of me before you left.
Happy Birthday, Mom. Be at peace.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Sexual Harassment
I thought it was illegal to retaliate against someone who has reported sexual harassment?
Apparently my employer does not believe the laws apply to them. This is bad, even for Idaho!
Apparently my employer does not believe the laws apply to them. This is bad, even for Idaho!
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Dear Kristi
Today around 1:00p I was in Albertson's getting some lunch. There was a song playing on the radio while I was there...I don't remember what it's called, but it was the theme song from the movie 'Mannequin'. I laughed when I heard it, and I thought about you.
Remember when we were kids, and we loved all those ridiculous movies with Molly Ringwald and Andrew McCarthy? We must have watched Pretty in Pink at least a dozen times. I remember I asked you which guy from the movie you liked best. You said Andrew McCarthy (of course). He was, after all, the hottest thing back then.
When you asked me which guy I liked best, I said James Spader (of course). He was, after all, the 'bad guy', which made him dangerous, and well, you know me! Remember how hard you laughed? You laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes, if memory serves.
I wonder what you would say today, if our silly little teenage wish had happened? If you had Andrew and I had James.
I know what I would say.
HA HA HA!! WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, HUH!? WHO'S THE HOTTEST ONE NOW, HUH!?
Hehehehee! You know I love you Kristi. :-) Talk to you soon.
Remember when we were kids, and we loved all those ridiculous movies with Molly Ringwald and Andrew McCarthy? We must have watched Pretty in Pink at least a dozen times. I remember I asked you which guy from the movie you liked best. You said Andrew McCarthy (of course). He was, after all, the hottest thing back then.
When you asked me which guy I liked best, I said James Spader (of course). He was, after all, the 'bad guy', which made him dangerous, and well, you know me! Remember how hard you laughed? You laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes, if memory serves.
I wonder what you would say today, if our silly little teenage wish had happened? If you had Andrew and I had James.
I know what I would say.
HA HA HA!! WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, HUH!? WHO'S THE HOTTEST ONE NOW, HUH!?
Hehehehee! You know I love you Kristi. :-) Talk to you soon.
Monday, October 13, 2008
The Suffering of Animals
How many times do I have to tell people the same thing before they understand it ? I have told several of my co-workers at least a dozen times that I do not eat meat. That I am tender-hearted and extremely sensitive about the suffering of animals. That I grew up on a farm with a cruel father and saw him brutalize animals far too many times. It seriously upsets me to hear stories of the pain and suffering of animals.
So I am left wondering what on earth would inspire my co-worker to tell me all about her hunting experience last weekend? What would make her think I would want to hear her explain in great detail how she and her trophy-collecting boyfriend chased down a doe and shot her, but did not kill her. How the poor deer ran for three hours trying to escape and they had to follow her blood trail.
If she didn't remember that I had told her a million times how sensitive I am about these things, you would think the look on my face surely must have given her some idea. I don't want to hear about these things! I am squeamish about even watching the discovery channel because it upsets me to see a poor animal get eaten.
Yes, I know it's nature and it's brutal. That's the way it is. It sucks being so sensitive.
So I am left wondering what on earth would inspire my co-worker to tell me all about her hunting experience last weekend? What would make her think I would want to hear her explain in great detail how she and her trophy-collecting boyfriend chased down a doe and shot her, but did not kill her. How the poor deer ran for three hours trying to escape and they had to follow her blood trail.
If she didn't remember that I had told her a million times how sensitive I am about these things, you would think the look on my face surely must have given her some idea. I don't want to hear about these things! I am squeamish about even watching the discovery channel because it upsets me to see a poor animal get eaten.
Yes, I know it's nature and it's brutal. That's the way it is. It sucks being so sensitive.
For Shari
Happy Birthday!
Please take a look at my boyfriend Gerry's website below. I have decided to loan him to you for the night. It is your birthday, and after all, I have so many other boyfriends, that I suppose I can spare Gerry for one evening. :-) Be nice to him!
http://www.gerardbutler.net/
PS
You do not touch Les Stroud. Him, I do not share.
Please take a look at my boyfriend Gerry's website below. I have decided to loan him to you for the night. It is your birthday, and after all, I have so many other boyfriends, that I suppose I can spare Gerry for one evening. :-) Be nice to him!
http://www.gerardbutler.net/
PS
You do not touch Les Stroud. Him, I do not share.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
To My Friends
I hope all of my friendly e-mails that I sent last night while drunk on wine did not clutter up your inboxes. I was just feeling extra social last night..
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
North End Conservatives
How dare you!
You know perfectly well the North End is an area reserved for Democrats, green folk and liberals. Yet you have the nerve to display your ridiculous Republican support signs! Why, as I was driving home for lunch today I saw five or six signs in one yard alone! They are an eyesore and a blight on the neighborhood! Who do you think you are? Why don't you move to Meridian where your conservative ways will be appreciated. I did not move to the North End to take this kind of treatment! I only pray that I don't have any out of town guests this weekend. I do not want them to see those signs and think I enjoy the company of Republicans, conservatives and the religious right.
You know perfectly well the North End is an area reserved for Democrats, green folk and liberals. Yet you have the nerve to display your ridiculous Republican support signs! Why, as I was driving home for lunch today I saw five or six signs in one yard alone! They are an eyesore and a blight on the neighborhood! Who do you think you are? Why don't you move to Meridian where your conservative ways will be appreciated. I did not move to the North End to take this kind of treatment! I only pray that I don't have any out of town guests this weekend. I do not want them to see those signs and think I enjoy the company of Republicans, conservatives and the religious right.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
My Sister the Scrapper
I received a message yesterday evening from my little sister (I missed the call because I was outside acclimating Little Kitty to his new harness and leash). I called her back as soon as I received the message. She so seldom ever has time to call me, since she is busy with her 4 children (her husband's three boys and her own little daughter), that I thought something must be wrong (the last time I received a call from her out of the blue, back in May, it was to inform me that our sixteen year old niece had passed away). So, needless to say, I was a little concerned. I called her home number, and her cell number. There was no answer, so I left her a message.
She did not call me back, so this morning I tried her again. Still no answer. Just a few minutes ago, she calls my cell phone. The conversation starts out with the usual how are you, what's going on, how is the weather? and then she says to me, in a tone just a little too casual for the subject of the call to be just chit chat....
"So...I'm supposed to be in court tomorrow."
"What for?" big sister inquires.
"Battery," she says.
Oh, lord! I think. Is she fighting with her husband?
"What happened?" I say.
"Some big fat mean woman yelled at my daughter!"
My dear little sister Krista went to pick up my nine year old niece Lori Jean from the (co-ed) flag football game. Once she is in the car, my niece bursts into tears.
"What on earth is the matter?" my sister says.
"A big fat mean woman yelled at me!" my niece responds.
So my sister listens as her daughter tells the story of how she is playing around with a boy from the team at football practice (prior to practice, actually). Apparently, said little boy ends up face down in the dirt. Hey, it's flag football practice, right? The kids play around like this all the time (note: little boy is unhurt - aside from his little boy pride, that is).
Sadly, big fat mean woman is mom to bested (but unhurt) little boy, and does not understand (clearly) how these sporting type games are played. She decides it is her duty to discipline my niece. She literally gets in the face of a fourth grade girl and screams at her until she cries. This is witnessed by several other adults, who, thankfully, intervene on behalf of my niece.
Well, after hearing this story, my little sister (yes, I do mean little, not just younger - 5'2' and 110 soaking wet) starts to turn green and {believes} she grows very tall with gargantuan muscles (I told her when she turned 30 last week that she needed to pay more attention to her health - but it is clear she did not take my advice and start drinking prune juice). She drives around the place looking for big mean woman. She doesn't find her. Does this deter Krista? Nope. She starts asking questions, and the next day, tracks big meanie down. She walks up to her (all 5''7", 400 lbs of her), points at her, and makes it very clear she is not, under any circumstances, to ever yell at Lori Jean again. How does said mean woman respond to my fiery green little sister? She shoves her roughly and says "Now! What are you going to do about it!?"
Unfortunately, my little sister, having my temper, lacks my reserve. She flies at big mean woman and hits her in the face repeatedly. Big fat mean woman becomes scared and tries to push my sister off of her. This does not work. My 110 lb little sister keeps on until big mean woman's mommy pulls her away.
So now you know why my little sister has to be in court tomorrow. It's apparently not as bad as it sounds. A misdemeanor and a fine. Thank god my little sister didn't grow 15 feet tall with gargantuan green muscles. Imagine where she'd be then?
Moral of the story? Don't mess with people's kids.
She did not call me back, so this morning I tried her again. Still no answer. Just a few minutes ago, she calls my cell phone. The conversation starts out with the usual how are you, what's going on, how is the weather? and then she says to me, in a tone just a little too casual for the subject of the call to be just chit chat....
"So...I'm supposed to be in court tomorrow."
"What for?" big sister inquires.
"Battery," she says.
Oh, lord! I think. Is she fighting with her husband?
"What happened?" I say.
"Some big fat mean woman yelled at my daughter!"
My dear little sister Krista went to pick up my nine year old niece Lori Jean from the (co-ed) flag football game. Once she is in the car, my niece bursts into tears.
"What on earth is the matter?" my sister says.
"A big fat mean woman yelled at me!" my niece responds.
So my sister listens as her daughter tells the story of how she is playing around with a boy from the team at football practice (prior to practice, actually). Apparently, said little boy ends up face down in the dirt. Hey, it's flag football practice, right? The kids play around like this all the time (note: little boy is unhurt - aside from his little boy pride, that is).
Sadly, big fat mean woman is mom to bested (but unhurt) little boy, and does not understand (clearly) how these sporting type games are played. She decides it is her duty to discipline my niece. She literally gets in the face of a fourth grade girl and screams at her until she cries. This is witnessed by several other adults, who, thankfully, intervene on behalf of my niece.
Well, after hearing this story, my little sister (yes, I do mean little, not just younger - 5'2' and 110 soaking wet) starts to turn green and {believes} she grows very tall with gargantuan muscles (I told her when she turned 30 last week that she needed to pay more attention to her health - but it is clear she did not take my advice and start drinking prune juice). She drives around the place looking for big mean woman. She doesn't find her. Does this deter Krista? Nope. She starts asking questions, and the next day, tracks big meanie down. She walks up to her (all 5''7", 400 lbs of her), points at her, and makes it very clear she is not, under any circumstances, to ever yell at Lori Jean again. How does said mean woman respond to my fiery green little sister? She shoves her roughly and says "Now! What are you going to do about it!?"
Unfortunately, my little sister, having my temper, lacks my reserve. She flies at big mean woman and hits her in the face repeatedly. Big fat mean woman becomes scared and tries to push my sister off of her. This does not work. My 110 lb little sister keeps on until big mean woman's mommy pulls her away.
So now you know why my little sister has to be in court tomorrow. It's apparently not as bad as it sounds. A misdemeanor and a fine. Thank god my little sister didn't grow 15 feet tall with gargantuan green muscles. Imagine where she'd be then?
Moral of the story? Don't mess with people's kids.
Monday, October 6, 2008
A Battle of Wills
For some time now my cat Little Kitty (aka Maximus Decimus Meridius) and I have been engaged in a battle of wills. Since moving into my little duplex about a year ago, Little Kitty has not been allowed to go outside. I told Little Kitty when we initially moved that I would wait about a month for him to adjust to the new location, and then I would let him go outside to play. Unfortunately, after being moved in to the new place for only a week, I found poor Dexter (the neighbor's beautiful long haired orange cat, who looked disturbingly like Little Kitty himself) run over in the middle of 28th street.
So, after picking Dexter up and moving him out of the street, many tears, a call to the neighbor to break the terrible news, more tears (belonging both to me and to Dexter's dad), and several glasses of wine, I informed Little Kitty that he would not be allowed to go outside. I thought at first he might be okay with this news. He was very lovey and sweet, making sure to shower me with lots of attention. But after about a month, he became increasingly cantankerous. He began to hiss at me when I would pet him, and glare at me when I spoke to him. He would meow on occasion during the day while scratching at the front door, for me to let him out. After dark, the meows would turn to yowls and the most piteous cries (usually after I had just managed to drift off to sleep).
After about three months, the hisses and glares stopped. Little Kitty became more affectionate with me, began to enjoy his food more (instead of crunching it down between glares and growls directed at me that were clearly meant to say 'The back yard is teeming with tasty birds and bugs and you keep me in here forcing me to eat this dry cereal, you TYRANT!'), and he stopped picking on the other cats. He even stopped his nighttime yowling. He seemed to be slowly adjusting to the inside way of life.
Then one day in May, my friend (I won't mention names) Hilary and I went for a drive out to discovery park and had a little picnic. When we arrived back at my place, I reminded her to be careful when using the front door, as the cats were not allowed outside anymore, but that Little Kitty would most likely try and make a break for it. "Oh sure, no problem," she says. "I'll just be inside after I smoke." About ten minutes later, while returning from the kitchen, I notice that Hilary is standing in my front doorway holding her cigarette outside (screen door propped wide open) and her other hand (the one with the cell phone) is holding the front door open. She is asking something about taking her across town. In the meantime, Little Kitty is sneaking to the door, and before I can grab him, he races outside and starts heading across the street.
I swear at her and yell for her to pay attention (she's looking around her, confused, as if she's not sure who I am cursing at), while at the same time trying to keep my other cats from escaping (they think I'm SUCH a warden) and then race out the door and grab Little Kitty just seconds before he runs right out in front of a car. I bring him back inside to safety. So - no harm, no foul, right? Wrong.
The cycle begins again. Little Kitty hisses, glares, and cries piteously, day and night. This goes on for about another three months. He begins, again, to relax and accept his captivity. That is, until late August, when he finds a weak spot in the panel on the side of my window A/C unit, and busts out again. I have no one to blame but myself this time, however. I should have known that chasing him around with a running vacuum cleaner was not a good idea. Again, I manage to run outside, catch him, and bring him home safely.
So the cycle has begun again, and it is escalating. I believe Little Kitty has vowed to life free or die. Or more appropriately, he has vowed to live free or drive me insane with his piteous meows, which are now around the clock. His favorite time is about 2-4 a.m., when he will sit on the little throw rug next to my bed and unleash his cries at full volume. It was this morning at 4 a.m. that I realized, after a year of this, that I am not as strong willed as I once believed. Little Kitty has finally worn me down.
Tonight after work I will be going to the pet store and purchasing a harness and leash for Little Kitty. So if any of you see a blond haired woman with dark circles and bags under her eyes (looking like something the cat dragged in, pun intended) walking her cat around the north end, please do not laugh. In order to preserve my sanity, I have been forced to compromise with a cat. My only consolation is that I am sure that most people in my position would have relented about ten months ago.
So, after picking Dexter up and moving him out of the street, many tears, a call to the neighbor to break the terrible news, more tears (belonging both to me and to Dexter's dad), and several glasses of wine, I informed Little Kitty that he would not be allowed to go outside. I thought at first he might be okay with this news. He was very lovey and sweet, making sure to shower me with lots of attention. But after about a month, he became increasingly cantankerous. He began to hiss at me when I would pet him, and glare at me when I spoke to him. He would meow on occasion during the day while scratching at the front door, for me to let him out. After dark, the meows would turn to yowls and the most piteous cries (usually after I had just managed to drift off to sleep).
After about three months, the hisses and glares stopped. Little Kitty became more affectionate with me, began to enjoy his food more (instead of crunching it down between glares and growls directed at me that were clearly meant to say 'The back yard is teeming with tasty birds and bugs and you keep me in here forcing me to eat this dry cereal, you TYRANT!'), and he stopped picking on the other cats. He even stopped his nighttime yowling. He seemed to be slowly adjusting to the inside way of life.
Then one day in May, my friend (I won't mention names) Hilary and I went for a drive out to discovery park and had a little picnic. When we arrived back at my place, I reminded her to be careful when using the front door, as the cats were not allowed outside anymore, but that Little Kitty would most likely try and make a break for it. "Oh sure, no problem," she says. "I'll just be inside after I smoke." About ten minutes later, while returning from the kitchen, I notice that Hilary is standing in my front doorway holding her cigarette outside (screen door propped wide open) and her other hand (the one with the cell phone) is holding the front door open. She is asking something about taking her across town. In the meantime, Little Kitty is sneaking to the door, and before I can grab him, he races outside and starts heading across the street.
I swear at her and yell for her to pay attention (she's looking around her, confused, as if she's not sure who I am cursing at), while at the same time trying to keep my other cats from escaping (they think I'm SUCH a warden) and then race out the door and grab Little Kitty just seconds before he runs right out in front of a car. I bring him back inside to safety. So - no harm, no foul, right? Wrong.
The cycle begins again. Little Kitty hisses, glares, and cries piteously, day and night. This goes on for about another three months. He begins, again, to relax and accept his captivity. That is, until late August, when he finds a weak spot in the panel on the side of my window A/C unit, and busts out again. I have no one to blame but myself this time, however. I should have known that chasing him around with a running vacuum cleaner was not a good idea. Again, I manage to run outside, catch him, and bring him home safely.
So the cycle has begun again, and it is escalating. I believe Little Kitty has vowed to life free or die. Or more appropriately, he has vowed to live free or drive me insane with his piteous meows, which are now around the clock. His favorite time is about 2-4 a.m., when he will sit on the little throw rug next to my bed and unleash his cries at full volume. It was this morning at 4 a.m. that I realized, after a year of this, that I am not as strong willed as I once believed. Little Kitty has finally worn me down.
Tonight after work I will be going to the pet store and purchasing a harness and leash for Little Kitty. So if any of you see a blond haired woman with dark circles and bags under her eyes (looking like something the cat dragged in, pun intended) walking her cat around the north end, please do not laugh. In order to preserve my sanity, I have been forced to compromise with a cat. My only consolation is that I am sure that most people in my position would have relented about ten months ago.
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