I remembered the values of my Jewish heritage.
I remembered the importance of comfort food (and that a few extra pounds are ok).
Persistence is NOT futile - the squeaky wheel gets the grease! (My little sister called me....for the first time in over 10 years...NOT on Christmas, but early, on Christmas Eve!)
I got my power back!
I realized that my 'direct and down to Earth' personality is invaluable, and not as common as some might think.
Most importantly, I realized that every day, every week, every month, every year....is a pristine chance for a brand new start.
Happy New Year, Everyone!!!!!!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
At Long Last!!!
Finally!! The dreaded torture instruments have been removed from my teeth! I am so happy!!!! I'm getting my teeth cleaned first thing tomorrow morning at 7!
They are gorgeous, by the way!!
They are gorgeous, by the way!!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Happy Birthday to Me!!
I just love having ALL of my family, and 50% of my friends, forget me on my birthday! The same people whom I call religiously every year on their birthday and at Christmas. Gosh, it just leaves me feeling all warm and fuzzy inside!
Well, here's to you.
PISS OFF!
Well, here's to you.
PISS OFF!
Friday, October 9, 2009
Have I Told You Lately How Much You PISS ME OFF!?
So the new IT lady at work did some kind of update to the network last night, and this morning several people had all their settings changed on their PC's, and now programs on the network are also malfunctioning. I realize that the rest of us average folks are dumb and IT people are all brilliant geniuses, but I still think if I have shut my PC down 4 times and restarted it (per the IT person's insistence) and am still experiencing the SAME problem, shutting it down YET again IS NOT GOING TO FIX THE PROBLEM. And telling me after I have shut my PC down and restarted it for the FIFTH TIME (apparently IT has to watch you do this in order to believe it was actually done) that she doesn't know what the problem is, to call the programmer, only makes HER look stupid, not me, despite her condescending, arrogant tone.
So in short, IT lady..
SUCK IT!!!!
And did I mention that "Shut down your PC and restart it and if that doesn't work do it two more times" is her standard response to ANY question asked by ANYONE here??? And that I am only ONE person on a list of about TEN people who have had network, PC, and program issues today??
PS
And I don't think talking to everyone like they are mentally challenged children is a very good way to start out a new job. But hey, that's just me. Maybe other people LIKE being talked to like they are naughty pets or stupid children.
So in short, IT lady..
SUCK IT!!!!
And did I mention that "Shut down your PC and restart it and if that doesn't work do it two more times" is her standard response to ANY question asked by ANYONE here??? And that I am only ONE person on a list of about TEN people who have had network, PC, and program issues today??
PS
And I don't think talking to everyone like they are mentally challenged children is a very good way to start out a new job. But hey, that's just me. Maybe other people LIKE being talked to like they are naughty pets or stupid children.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
The Vile Roman Polanski
For anyone who might be inclined to have even a twinge of pity for the pedophile Roman Polanski...
http://www.salon.com/mwt/broadsheet/feature/2009/09/28/polanski_arrest/index.html
http://www.salon.com/mwt/broadsheet/feature/2009/09/28/polanski_arrest/index.html
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Parole Date
It's been set, tentatively. It's a year and a half away, and yet when I read it, my heart rate picks up and my breath quickens. I wonder why... after sixteen years ... I am still (if I am to be honest with myself) just a little bit afraid of him.
I can't decide if I even wish I'd gone to the hearing, or not. Would it have made a difference? Even if it did, it's only two years more he'd have to serve.
I wonder...what difference does all of this make now? After all these years? My name is changed. I look different than I did when I was 18, and really, is he going to risk his freedom to try and hurt me again? Would it be worth it to him to get even?
I don't know. I just don't know.
I hate that any of this still matters.
I can't decide if I even wish I'd gone to the hearing, or not. Would it have made a difference? Even if it did, it's only two years more he'd have to serve.
I wonder...what difference does all of this make now? After all these years? My name is changed. I look different than I did when I was 18, and really, is he going to risk his freedom to try and hurt me again? Would it be worth it to him to get even?
I don't know. I just don't know.
I hate that any of this still matters.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Moving
I've moved to a new apartment. It has central AC (yay!), so I no longer need my window AC units. I sold one today. Sold it to the hottest man I have seen in probably...ten years. I wish he'd been giving me that $40 bucks for another reason...heh heh heh!
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Decisions
I swear sometimes I should have been born a Libra!
Why is it at times so unbelievably difficult for me to make a simple decision? Why do I have to go over every little tiny aspect of the situation before I decide what to do? Why can't it be more simple than that?
UGH!
Why is it at times so unbelievably difficult for me to make a simple decision? Why do I have to go over every little tiny aspect of the situation before I decide what to do? Why can't it be more simple than that?
UGH!
Monday, July 27, 2009
Monday, Monday
This tough little cookie is tired!
Saturday I rode my bike to Municipal Park. This took about 30 minutes. Then I rollerbladed ten miles. This took about two hours. Unfortunately, I forgot my water bottle. Rollerblading in 100 degree heat without water is neither smart nor fun. I finally took off my skates and hiked barefoot down the small slope to the river and jumped in. It felt wonderful.
After that I pedaled back home, only to do it all again the next day. Only this time, I did NOT forget my water. Thankfully. I've been rollerblading for ten years now, and that was the first time I ever forgot my water when I skated in that kind of heat. I won't be doing it again anytime soon (forgetting my water). It was unpleasant.
After all that exercise, you'd think I'd have slept like the dead last night. Wrong. I slept horrible. I slept restlessly, waking up every couple of hours or so. When I did sleep, I had really weird dreams. I dreamed that a former lover of mine was getting married to a woman who resembled someone I used to work with at my last job, and this woman took it upon herself to forbid me to come anywhere near my ex-lover, and didn't seem in the least reassured by the fact that I couldn't have cared less about either of them or what they were doing. I was extremely annoyed in the dream, and even more annoyed when I woke up.
Now I am exhausted, and I feel like a zombie. (Remind me sometime to tell you about the dream I had a couple of years ago about the meth that would turn it's users into zombies - that was quite a funny one. Almost as funny as the dream I had when Sean Bean convinced me I had to kill the man from Snowy River - and I did - with a broadsword.) It's going to be a long day. I need to learn how to sleep with my eyes open so my boss doesn't realize I'm sleeping instead of working.
Saturday I rode my bike to Municipal Park. This took about 30 minutes. Then I rollerbladed ten miles. This took about two hours. Unfortunately, I forgot my water bottle. Rollerblading in 100 degree heat without water is neither smart nor fun. I finally took off my skates and hiked barefoot down the small slope to the river and jumped in. It felt wonderful.
After that I pedaled back home, only to do it all again the next day. Only this time, I did NOT forget my water. Thankfully. I've been rollerblading for ten years now, and that was the first time I ever forgot my water when I skated in that kind of heat. I won't be doing it again anytime soon (forgetting my water). It was unpleasant.
After all that exercise, you'd think I'd have slept like the dead last night. Wrong. I slept horrible. I slept restlessly, waking up every couple of hours or so. When I did sleep, I had really weird dreams. I dreamed that a former lover of mine was getting married to a woman who resembled someone I used to work with at my last job, and this woman took it upon herself to forbid me to come anywhere near my ex-lover, and didn't seem in the least reassured by the fact that I couldn't have cared less about either of them or what they were doing. I was extremely annoyed in the dream, and even more annoyed when I woke up.
Now I am exhausted, and I feel like a zombie. (Remind me sometime to tell you about the dream I had a couple of years ago about the meth that would turn it's users into zombies - that was quite a funny one. Almost as funny as the dream I had when Sean Bean convinced me I had to kill the man from Snowy River - and I did - with a broadsword.) It's going to be a long day. I need to learn how to sleep with my eyes open so my boss doesn't realize I'm sleeping instead of working.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
My Left Foot
Ok..
Now my foot is starting to ache a little bit. It's not painful. Just a little achy and sore feeling.
Yesterday the doctor examined it, and kept feeling around that area, trying to see if it hurt me. I had this feeling he kept expecting me to shriek out in pain. I told him it was tender, but that I wouldn't really call it 'pain'. He was astonished. According to him, I should be in a great deal of pain after having suffered a fracture. I told him I have a high pain threshold, but he still insisted that I should be in pain. He said he was 'scratching his head' over it. He was still scratching his head as I rode my bike away from his office.
I suppose the reason it is feeling a bit achy today could be the fact that I rode my bike to the gym this morning at six, worked out, rode my bike back home, showered, and rode my bike to work (and home again after). All after riding my bike yesterday from 16th and State to Emerald and Curtis, up to Overland to Dorian, and all the way back home to the other side of 27th street.
Maybe I need to take a breather and give my poor foot a time out...nah! It's fine. A foot ache isn't anything a couple of advil won't take care of!!
I'd like to take this opportunity to make it clear that I had better never hear anyone call me weak ever again! Until you can walk, rollerblade, lift weights, work out on the stairmaster, and ride your bike, all with a broken foot, you have no room to be calling ME weak. Heh, heh, heh!!
I am one tough little cookie!
Now my foot is starting to ache a little bit. It's not painful. Just a little achy and sore feeling.
Yesterday the doctor examined it, and kept feeling around that area, trying to see if it hurt me. I had this feeling he kept expecting me to shriek out in pain. I told him it was tender, but that I wouldn't really call it 'pain'. He was astonished. According to him, I should be in a great deal of pain after having suffered a fracture. I told him I have a high pain threshold, but he still insisted that I should be in pain. He said he was 'scratching his head' over it. He was still scratching his head as I rode my bike away from his office.
I suppose the reason it is feeling a bit achy today could be the fact that I rode my bike to the gym this morning at six, worked out, rode my bike back home, showered, and rode my bike to work (and home again after). All after riding my bike yesterday from 16th and State to Emerald and Curtis, up to Overland to Dorian, and all the way back home to the other side of 27th street.
Maybe I need to take a breather and give my poor foot a time out...nah! It's fine. A foot ache isn't anything a couple of advil won't take care of!!
I'd like to take this opportunity to make it clear that I had better never hear anyone call me weak ever again! Until you can walk, rollerblade, lift weights, work out on the stairmaster, and ride your bike, all with a broken foot, you have no room to be calling ME weak. Heh, heh, heh!!
I am one tough little cookie!
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Badass!!
As I mentioned in my post last week, my computer fell on my foot last Tuesday while I was at work. That same evening, I rollerbladed ten miles (yes, I've mapped this to be sure that is actually how far I go), on the greenbelt. When I returned to my car, the battery was dead. Being as I have no cell phone, I therefore had to walk all the way from Municipal Park to Fort and 8th, where my loyal friend Donna picked me up and took me the remaining 11 blocks home.
At my boss's insistence I had my foot X-rayed on Thursday. The doctor told me that I was fine and I should go home and put ice on my 'bruised' foot. I was fine with that, though I had no intention of staying off of my foot. Since then, I've walked, skated, ridden my bike, amongst other activities that required more than a little use of my bruised and swollen foot.
So you can imagine my surprise yesterday morning when I received a call from the doctor's office informing me that my foot is indeed broken. Apparently, the physician missed it on the X-ray (I saw my own X-ray as well and my foot looked fine to me, but what do I know), but the radiologist corrected him and pointed out the fracture.
So, I have to go back to the doctor today at three. My battery on my car is junk, and I can't afford to get a new one right now (well, let's just say I have other priorities and my bike works just fine for now thank you), so I will be riding my bike with my broken foot up to the doctors office.
I am curious to see just how bad this fracture is. I have a very high pain threshold, so it is difficult for me to judge at times if an injury warrants a trip to the doctor or not. It hurt like hell when it first happened, but while it was very intense, the initial pain was also brief. I'm rather glad this happened at work because if it didn't, I never would have bothered to go see the doctor at all.
This all strikes me as being quite funny, for some reason. I am apparently one tough, badass chick to be walking, skating,and biking all over the place with a broken foot!
Bow to me, weaklings! Hahahaha!
At my boss's insistence I had my foot X-rayed on Thursday. The doctor told me that I was fine and I should go home and put ice on my 'bruised' foot. I was fine with that, though I had no intention of staying off of my foot. Since then, I've walked, skated, ridden my bike, amongst other activities that required more than a little use of my bruised and swollen foot.
So you can imagine my surprise yesterday morning when I received a call from the doctor's office informing me that my foot is indeed broken. Apparently, the physician missed it on the X-ray (I saw my own X-ray as well and my foot looked fine to me, but what do I know), but the radiologist corrected him and pointed out the fracture.
So, I have to go back to the doctor today at three. My battery on my car is junk, and I can't afford to get a new one right now (well, let's just say I have other priorities and my bike works just fine for now thank you), so I will be riding my bike with my broken foot up to the doctors office.
I am curious to see just how bad this fracture is. I have a very high pain threshold, so it is difficult for me to judge at times if an injury warrants a trip to the doctor or not. It hurt like hell when it first happened, but while it was very intense, the initial pain was also brief. I'm rather glad this happened at work because if it didn't, I never would have bothered to go see the doctor at all.
This all strikes me as being quite funny, for some reason. I am apparently one tough, badass chick to be walking, skating,and biking all over the place with a broken foot!
Bow to me, weaklings! Hahahaha!
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Fatigue
After work today I headed off to Municipal Park. I did my usual ten mile rollerblade run, after which I was pleasantly exhausted. The pleasant part faded quite quickly, however, when I realized that Cyclops (AKA my car) refused to start. Not only did it refuse to start, but it wouldn't even try. It was dead. Dead, dead, dead.
So after trying a few more times to start it, waiting, and trying again, I finally decided that it was not going to happen. I rolled up the windows, grabbed my bag, and headed out in my nearly worn out sandals. These sandals are comfortable enough for a stroll around the block at morning break, but to walk all the way from Municipal park to my house, well, not so much.
I walked all the way to Fort and 8th before my feet began to seriously hurt. I actually did enjoy the walk at first. The weather is nice, and the scenery was nice -pretty trees and flowers and such. I stopped by Roosevelt Market on the way. That is a cute little place. Very 'mom and pop', quite refreshing. I got some water, used the facilities (thank god they had those) grabbed a snack and continued on.
By the time I reached Fort and 8th, I was able to use the pay phone (an object nearing extinction - time to get a cell phone I guess) to call my friend Donna who lives around the corner from me. She, being the great friend she is, buzzed right over and picked me up. Once we got to her house, we enjoyed an ice cold beer together, and then I walked the three or four steps over to my house. Where I collapsed, exhausted. It was only the pityful, pleading looks in the eyes of my cats that prompted me to get up and give them their daily bit of wet food.
Needless to say, I am wiped! I am so glad I got all that exercise. That is wonderful. But I'm not so happy that I had to leave my car in the park and now have to worry about getting it back home and getting it repaired. I'll worry about that tomorrow, I guess.
Oh, and did I mention that my computer tower fell over today and landed squarely on top of my foot? That's right. Somehow my computer got pushed over towards the back wall of my desk (I am assuming by the cleaning people while vacuuming)and was precariously tipped before it crashed down on top of my foot (I was wearing the same sandals I had to walk home in). At any rate, my left foot is green, purple, and quite swollen. And yes, it hurt like hell. The last time something hurt that bad was back in '06 when I sprained my ankle at a party at a friend's house. My coworker kept asking if I was ok. I was trying to get a grip on the pain so I could answer her without screaming "FUCK!!!!"
HA! It's been a rough day. I'm going to veg on the couch for awhile before bed.
So after trying a few more times to start it, waiting, and trying again, I finally decided that it was not going to happen. I rolled up the windows, grabbed my bag, and headed out in my nearly worn out sandals. These sandals are comfortable enough for a stroll around the block at morning break, but to walk all the way from Municipal park to my house, well, not so much.
I walked all the way to Fort and 8th before my feet began to seriously hurt. I actually did enjoy the walk at first. The weather is nice, and the scenery was nice -pretty trees and flowers and such. I stopped by Roosevelt Market on the way. That is a cute little place. Very 'mom and pop', quite refreshing. I got some water, used the facilities (thank god they had those) grabbed a snack and continued on.
By the time I reached Fort and 8th, I was able to use the pay phone (an object nearing extinction - time to get a cell phone I guess) to call my friend Donna who lives around the corner from me. She, being the great friend she is, buzzed right over and picked me up. Once we got to her house, we enjoyed an ice cold beer together, and then I walked the three or four steps over to my house. Where I collapsed, exhausted. It was only the pityful, pleading looks in the eyes of my cats that prompted me to get up and give them their daily bit of wet food.
Needless to say, I am wiped! I am so glad I got all that exercise. That is wonderful. But I'm not so happy that I had to leave my car in the park and now have to worry about getting it back home and getting it repaired. I'll worry about that tomorrow, I guess.
Oh, and did I mention that my computer tower fell over today and landed squarely on top of my foot? That's right. Somehow my computer got pushed over towards the back wall of my desk (I am assuming by the cleaning people while vacuuming)and was precariously tipped before it crashed down on top of my foot (I was wearing the same sandals I had to walk home in). At any rate, my left foot is green, purple, and quite swollen. And yes, it hurt like hell. The last time something hurt that bad was back in '06 when I sprained my ankle at a party at a friend's house. My coworker kept asking if I was ok. I was trying to get a grip on the pain so I could answer her without screaming "FUCK!!!!"
HA! It's been a rough day. I'm going to veg on the couch for awhile before bed.
Spider Lair Part III
On Monday as I was getting ready to ride my bike to work, I discovered another messy little web on the outside windowsill of my kitchen window. There was also a perfectly formed, round little funnel in the corner. Due to my recent research and experience with spiders, I recognized this immediately as the signature web of a black widow. I cautiously walked over to the windowsill to have a closer look, but could not see the spider.
Being the curious cat that I am, after I arrived home from work yesterday evening, I decided to have another look. There, nestled comfortably in the little funnel web, was another black widow spider. It was small, and it looked a little brown. It appears to be a juvenile. I have named her Cala. For now, to be safe, I will assume it's a female.
I am not sure whether I should kill her or not. It's not like I spend alot of time outside next to the kitchen windowsill. She's not technically in a space I use, and there are no spaces or entryways for her to get inside the house through that windowsill. She's just trying to survive, and eating the bugs that would otherwise pester me.
Still, it's a little unnerving to have found not one, but two highly venomous spiders in my back yard area. Normally, I do not like to use pesticides. I don't like to kill living things in their own environment. Not even bugs. But I am tempted to spray them all down with something, just because I am worried that when the weather starts to get cold, they'll want to come on inside and make themselves at home, where they will be a bigger threat to me and my little fuzzy wuzzy kitties. Also, the fact that I found the corpse of a brown recluse spider on my living room floor today is making me to feel even more apprehensive than before. So I am afraid I will have to spray them. At least, I'll have to spray that backyard area and the perimeter of the house.
But I am afraid. I am a scared little wussie about this. HA! These are the times I wish I had a big brave man in my life to do these things for me. Though, some of the 'big brave' men in my life, in the past, were even more afraid of spiders than I was! At least I'm only afraid of the black widow, not all spiders.
I guess I could always call my dad. He'd do it for me. God, what a baby I'd be then! Thirty-four years old asking my daddy to come over and kill the scary spiders.
HA! Pathetic!!
Being the curious cat that I am, after I arrived home from work yesterday evening, I decided to have another look. There, nestled comfortably in the little funnel web, was another black widow spider. It was small, and it looked a little brown. It appears to be a juvenile. I have named her Cala. For now, to be safe, I will assume it's a female.
I am not sure whether I should kill her or not. It's not like I spend alot of time outside next to the kitchen windowsill. She's not technically in a space I use, and there are no spaces or entryways for her to get inside the house through that windowsill. She's just trying to survive, and eating the bugs that would otherwise pester me.
Still, it's a little unnerving to have found not one, but two highly venomous spiders in my back yard area. Normally, I do not like to use pesticides. I don't like to kill living things in their own environment. Not even bugs. But I am tempted to spray them all down with something, just because I am worried that when the weather starts to get cold, they'll want to come on inside and make themselves at home, where they will be a bigger threat to me and my little fuzzy wuzzy kitties. Also, the fact that I found the corpse of a brown recluse spider on my living room floor today is making me to feel even more apprehensive than before. So I am afraid I will have to spray them. At least, I'll have to spray that backyard area and the perimeter of the house.
But I am afraid. I am a scared little wussie about this. HA! These are the times I wish I had a big brave man in my life to do these things for me. Though, some of the 'big brave' men in my life, in the past, were even more afraid of spiders than I was! At least I'm only afraid of the black widow, not all spiders.
I guess I could always call my dad. He'd do it for me. God, what a baby I'd be then! Thirty-four years old asking my daddy to come over and kill the scary spiders.
HA! Pathetic!!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
The Spider Lair Part II
There are new spider webs going up in my backyard every day!
I've been out there several times this weekend, as I need supplies for my aquarium. It seems I dismantle one spider web, and three take it's place! I am overrun with spiders and their webs!
I fear that my fate is set. I am doomed to be bitten to death by a black widow spider!!
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to I make my peace with family and friends and re-write my will.
I've been out there several times this weekend, as I need supplies for my aquarium. It seems I dismantle one spider web, and three take it's place! I am overrun with spiders and their webs!
I fear that my fate is set. I am doomed to be bitten to death by a black widow spider!!
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to I make my peace with family and friends and re-write my will.
Aquarium part II
My aquarium is up! It's quite lovely, too! I have the gravel in, some decorations, and live plants! The water is crystal clear. It's really quite lovely.
Now I just have to get the filter set up, and then a few days after that, I can fill it full of fish!
I love aquariums!
Now I just have to get the filter set up, and then a few days after that, I can fill it full of fish!
I love aquariums!
Up Late
Last night I dreamed all night long of black widows weaving webs around my bedroom window, around my back door, and all through my backyard.
I hope I don't have those kind of nightmares tonight!
I hope I don't have those kind of nightmares tonight!
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Aquarium
Having survived my discovery of the Black Widow Lair in my back yard and shed yesterday, I managed (with the help of my good friend Donna) to get most of the necessary supplies out of the Spider Lair. After ensuring there were no spiders residing in said supplies, I brought them inside. I can say quite happily that I am at last working on setting up my aquarium.
I have truly missed this hobby! It's hard to believe that it has been five years since I've had a working aquarium set up. This aquarium that I have recently acquired is about twice as big as the largest one I used to have, so I am finding that it's a bit more work to get it up and running.
Still, I am thoroughly enjoying this! I can't wait until it's all done so I can show it off to my friends. It's going to look lovely once it's full of beautiful fish!
I'll keep you posted...
I have truly missed this hobby! It's hard to believe that it has been five years since I've had a working aquarium set up. This aquarium that I have recently acquired is about twice as big as the largest one I used to have, so I am finding that it's a bit more work to get it up and running.
Still, I am thoroughly enjoying this! I can't wait until it's all done so I can show it off to my friends. It's going to look lovely once it's full of beautiful fish!
I'll keep you posted...
Friday, July 10, 2009
The Spider Lair
Generally speaking, I am not freaked out about spiders. Great big black centipedes (or millipedes), now, that is a different story. There have been many spiders in my house and I have let most of them be, providing they don't get too close to me or get on my bed or furniture, or completely overtake my living space. They eat the other bugs, so I find them typically to be handy little helpers.
I have noticed recently that in my back yard and patio area, there has been an increase in spider webs. They are around my door, around my bedroom window and window a/c unit, around the patio furniture, pretty much all over. I didn't ride my bike for a week and they even made a web on that.
Well, today I went out in the back shed to dig out my old aquarium supplies and accessories (I bought an aquarium this week at a yard sale across the street), and I am normally pretty cautious out there when it gets warm because it is a perfect abode for spiders.
So you might imagine I wasn't entirely surprised at what I saw hanging in a messy little web in the small space between the wall of my house and the front wall of the backyard storage shed, looking just as plump and happy as can be. That's right! There, in plain view, was the biggest, fattest, scariest looking female black widow I have ever seen!
Unfortunately, for Antonia (I named the spider Antonia) I simply cannot have such a venomous spider that close to my bedroom window, where it might at anytime decide to come in and take a bite out of my supple flesh. Nor do I want her to become scared of one of my cats and take a bite out of them (cats bitten by black widow spiders have a 90% mortality rate). So I killed her.
At least, I think I killed her.
I sprayed her with poison and she dropped a little but then curled up and continued to hang in her web. I kept spraying her but she clung to her web tenaciously, glaring at me. I am also quite sure I heard obscenities being screamed at me in a tiny spider voice. I poked at her with the end of a broom handle in an attempt to smash her, but she dropped down and fell behind a bucket. I couldn't find her after that.
I'm scared that she survived and is going to crawl into my bedroom and take revenge.
Once my mom found three butterflies that she thought were dead and pinned them to the cork board in the bathroom with the rest of her collection. Well, they weren't dead, and somehow they got off of the pins and came into the living room and attacked her. I saw it with my own eyes.
The Black Widow is probably hiding out in a small, dark corner of The Spider Lair (AKA my backyard) developing an immunity to the poison I sprayed her with. Preparing to recover and return even stronger and more venomous than ever before! If I die, please be sure to tell the coroner not to dismiss the multiple spider bites he will no doubt find all over my body, as mere coincidence! Be sure he knows that I was killed by a black widow spider named Antonia.
Murdered in cold blood!
I have noticed recently that in my back yard and patio area, there has been an increase in spider webs. They are around my door, around my bedroom window and window a/c unit, around the patio furniture, pretty much all over. I didn't ride my bike for a week and they even made a web on that.
Well, today I went out in the back shed to dig out my old aquarium supplies and accessories (I bought an aquarium this week at a yard sale across the street), and I am normally pretty cautious out there when it gets warm because it is a perfect abode for spiders.
So you might imagine I wasn't entirely surprised at what I saw hanging in a messy little web in the small space between the wall of my house and the front wall of the backyard storage shed, looking just as plump and happy as can be. That's right! There, in plain view, was the biggest, fattest, scariest looking female black widow I have ever seen!
Unfortunately, for Antonia (I named the spider Antonia) I simply cannot have such a venomous spider that close to my bedroom window, where it might at anytime decide to come in and take a bite out of my supple flesh. Nor do I want her to become scared of one of my cats and take a bite out of them (cats bitten by black widow spiders have a 90% mortality rate). So I killed her.
At least, I think I killed her.
I sprayed her with poison and she dropped a little but then curled up and continued to hang in her web. I kept spraying her but she clung to her web tenaciously, glaring at me. I am also quite sure I heard obscenities being screamed at me in a tiny spider voice. I poked at her with the end of a broom handle in an attempt to smash her, but she dropped down and fell behind a bucket. I couldn't find her after that.
I'm scared that she survived and is going to crawl into my bedroom and take revenge.
Once my mom found three butterflies that she thought were dead and pinned them to the cork board in the bathroom with the rest of her collection. Well, they weren't dead, and somehow they got off of the pins and came into the living room and attacked her. I saw it with my own eyes.
The Black Widow is probably hiding out in a small, dark corner of The Spider Lair (AKA my backyard) developing an immunity to the poison I sprayed her with. Preparing to recover and return even stronger and more venomous than ever before! If I die, please be sure to tell the coroner not to dismiss the multiple spider bites he will no doubt find all over my body, as mere coincidence! Be sure he knows that I was killed by a black widow spider named Antonia.
Murdered in cold blood!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Annual Tormenting
Well, it's that time of year again! Time to tease and torment my English friend with the Fourth of July, AKA, Independence Day!
I haven't always been that big about celebrating the Fourth of July. At least, not since I was a kid. I enjoy the food, and the picnics, and the summer weather, and the pretty fireworks. But that's about as far as my interest in this particular holiday goes. Still, I must confess, that since I've become friends with Mick, I have begun to look forward with much glee to this holiday! How I enjoy correcting him on the historical inaccuracies he learned as a boy back in England!
For instance, one year Mick told me that Yankee Doodle Dandee was written by the Confederates during the civil war. While I acknowledged that the Confederates did enjoy singing that song as a way of insulting the North, I was quick to point out that Yankee Doodle Dandee was actually written by the British during the American Revolution (or the American Rebellion, as they call it back in the UK).
One year Mick was complaining about Americans poor use of the English language. Normally I would agree with him, generally speaking (don't tell him that), but being as it was the week of Independence Day, I was inclined to disagree. His particular complaint was that Americans drop the 'h' when saying 'herb'. He complained with great annoyance that we were trying to sound like the French by dropping the 'h'. I responded by reminding him that were it not for the assistance of the French, the Americans would never have defeated the British during the American Revolution. So, Americans agreed to forever drop the 'h' from the word 'herb', in order to honor the sacrifices they made for us during that time. Heh heh heh! This is of course a ridiculous fiction, but it worked like a charm! The following is an exact quote of the outburst it incited from Mick:
"Oh, #*%^(#@@!! That's the biggest bunch %&$^(@#$ !! It's #*%)^ of rubbish @*%)$! @*#) bloody hell #*%()^%(!!!! Yankee @#*%( bunch of *%(^%()!!"
My favorite thing is to quote the lyrics from Johnny Horton's Battle of New Orleans (the American version, of course) to him! How I love to remind him how the bloody British ran squealing back to England with their tails between their legs!!
I get to pay him back in one week for an entire year of his smart ass, dry, English sense of humor that he frequently uses against me (and many other poor such Americans as myself, I'm sure). I love it!
Ah, it's all in good fun. He's a good friend, and I appreciate that he tolerates me giving him a week of hell once a year.
I haven't always been that big about celebrating the Fourth of July. At least, not since I was a kid. I enjoy the food, and the picnics, and the summer weather, and the pretty fireworks. But that's about as far as my interest in this particular holiday goes. Still, I must confess, that since I've become friends with Mick, I have begun to look forward with much glee to this holiday! How I enjoy correcting him on the historical inaccuracies he learned as a boy back in England!
For instance, one year Mick told me that Yankee Doodle Dandee was written by the Confederates during the civil war. While I acknowledged that the Confederates did enjoy singing that song as a way of insulting the North, I was quick to point out that Yankee Doodle Dandee was actually written by the British during the American Revolution (or the American Rebellion, as they call it back in the UK).
One year Mick was complaining about Americans poor use of the English language. Normally I would agree with him, generally speaking (don't tell him that), but being as it was the week of Independence Day, I was inclined to disagree. His particular complaint was that Americans drop the 'h' when saying 'herb'. He complained with great annoyance that we were trying to sound like the French by dropping the 'h'. I responded by reminding him that were it not for the assistance of the French, the Americans would never have defeated the British during the American Revolution. So, Americans agreed to forever drop the 'h' from the word 'herb', in order to honor the sacrifices they made for us during that time. Heh heh heh! This is of course a ridiculous fiction, but it worked like a charm! The following is an exact quote of the outburst it incited from Mick:
"Oh, #*%^(#@@!! That's the biggest bunch %&$^(@#$ !! It's #*%)^ of rubbish @*%)$! @*#) bloody hell #*%()^%(!!!! Yankee @#*%( bunch of *%(^%()!!"
My favorite thing is to quote the lyrics from Johnny Horton's Battle of New Orleans (the American version, of course) to him! How I love to remind him how the bloody British ran squealing back to England with their tails between their legs!!
I get to pay him back in one week for an entire year of his smart ass, dry, English sense of humor that he frequently uses against me (and many other poor such Americans as myself, I'm sure). I love it!
Ah, it's all in good fun. He's a good friend, and I appreciate that he tolerates me giving him a week of hell once a year.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Malaise
Ugh.
I feel like I've been run over by a truck. My throat hurts, my nose is stuffy, I'm extremely tired. I feel weak. I hope this passes soon. I would hate to get a cold in July for Christ's sake!
I don't want to be at work today. I want to go home and snuggle up on the couch with my cat.
I feel like I've been run over by a truck. My throat hurts, my nose is stuffy, I'm extremely tired. I feel weak. I hope this passes soon. I would hate to get a cold in July for Christ's sake!
I don't want to be at work today. I want to go home and snuggle up on the couch with my cat.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Cagey Bitch
After my ranting post the day before yesterday, I've done some thinking. A lot of thinking, actually. This is not to indicate that I didn't think before I blogged. It's just that I've done further thinking on the subject since then.
What I wrote was harsh, and sounded actually pretty angry. It was also a post shaded with more than a little suspicion. While I admit that at the time I wrote it I was rather annoyed, I would like to clarify some things.
Firstly, I wasn't angry. I guess what I wrote was more about expressing outloud, and publicly, things that I didn't feel I could effectively express three years ago. There were so many rumors (lies) circling around about the situation then, and I was very hurt. I was hurt and humiliated, and I had alot of other priorities I was dealing with at that time (my house caught on fire and I lost my job).
With the exception of a few angry e-mails and a couple of late night drunken phone calls, I pretty much withdrew from the entire mess. I never really felt that I had any vindication or validation for any of what was done to me or any of the feelings I had regarding the situation. It seemed like I was looked at as the problem by those who only heard one (dishonest) side of the story. Most people didn't know about the deception that had been going on, or the way my thoughts and feelings were deliberately toyed with. I was the crazy one who just couldn't 'get over it'.
I am not filled with hate or anger regarding this person or that situation. My feelings toward all of it now are rather indifferent, aside perhaps from some slight annoyance at his apparent expectation that I not only forgive, but forget what he did. To me forgiveness is about letting go of hateful, angry feelings. I can say honestly that I have done that.
The situation still feels out of balance to me. It's because the one thing that is still festering in the back of my mind is that I have yet to see him display genuine remorse for what he did. It's like he's incapable of empathy. In fact, in his blogs, he makes fun of women he's dated and calls their intelligence into question because of the fact that they were willing to date him in the first place. As if they have some sort of magical ability to see inside his heart and know what he'll do before he does it. He deliberately toys with them, but it's somehow their fault. It's their own fault because they were dumb enough to go out with him, right?
I see no remorse. I suppose I never will.
The good thing is that I am older and wiser now. I learned from what happened. I learned at great emotional expense, but still, I learned. After a person is treated in such a disrespectful, cold, and down right mean way, (especially if it happens on more than one occasion) they tend to become...cagey. That's how I feel. I feel like I have to be a cagey bitch when it comes to this person. If he doesn't like it I guess he can blame himself, because it's his fault. It's because of the way he has treated me in the past.
Most women in my place would never have even spoken to him again. Perhaps the fact that I even talk to him makes me an utter fool. Perhaps it makes me as dumb as he says in his blogs. I'm not really sure. What I am sure of is that I am distrustful.
I am distrustful, and rightfully so.
What I wrote was harsh, and sounded actually pretty angry. It was also a post shaded with more than a little suspicion. While I admit that at the time I wrote it I was rather annoyed, I would like to clarify some things.
Firstly, I wasn't angry. I guess what I wrote was more about expressing outloud, and publicly, things that I didn't feel I could effectively express three years ago. There were so many rumors (lies) circling around about the situation then, and I was very hurt. I was hurt and humiliated, and I had alot of other priorities I was dealing with at that time (my house caught on fire and I lost my job).
With the exception of a few angry e-mails and a couple of late night drunken phone calls, I pretty much withdrew from the entire mess. I never really felt that I had any vindication or validation for any of what was done to me or any of the feelings I had regarding the situation. It seemed like I was looked at as the problem by those who only heard one (dishonest) side of the story. Most people didn't know about the deception that had been going on, or the way my thoughts and feelings were deliberately toyed with. I was the crazy one who just couldn't 'get over it'.
I am not filled with hate or anger regarding this person or that situation. My feelings toward all of it now are rather indifferent, aside perhaps from some slight annoyance at his apparent expectation that I not only forgive, but forget what he did. To me forgiveness is about letting go of hateful, angry feelings. I can say honestly that I have done that.
The situation still feels out of balance to me. It's because the one thing that is still festering in the back of my mind is that I have yet to see him display genuine remorse for what he did. It's like he's incapable of empathy. In fact, in his blogs, he makes fun of women he's dated and calls their intelligence into question because of the fact that they were willing to date him in the first place. As if they have some sort of magical ability to see inside his heart and know what he'll do before he does it. He deliberately toys with them, but it's somehow their fault. It's their own fault because they were dumb enough to go out with him, right?
I see no remorse. I suppose I never will.
The good thing is that I am older and wiser now. I learned from what happened. I learned at great emotional expense, but still, I learned. After a person is treated in such a disrespectful, cold, and down right mean way, (especially if it happens on more than one occasion) they tend to become...cagey. That's how I feel. I feel like I have to be a cagey bitch when it comes to this person. If he doesn't like it I guess he can blame himself, because it's his fault. It's because of the way he has treated me in the past.
Most women in my place would never have even spoken to him again. Perhaps the fact that I even talk to him makes me an utter fool. Perhaps it makes me as dumb as he says in his blogs. I'm not really sure. What I am sure of is that I am distrustful.
I am distrustful, and rightfully so.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Do I Have Stupid Written on my Forehead?
Or maybe it says "Use me" instead.
Why do people assume that because I am civil, and nice, and friendly, that I have somehow completely lost my memory?
Why do they assume that because I choose not to dwell on the unkind things that they have said and done to me in the past, and have decided to let go of anger and hurtful feelings, that I have amnesia?
I am not foolish enough to believe that because someone who mistreated me in the past is now friendly and 'nice' to me, that their deep set behavior patterns have changed. Just because someone doesn't like the idea of another person hating them, or being perpetually angry with them, doesn't necessarily mean that they are sorry for the hurtful things they did in the past. To this day, there has been no explanation for why I was treated so cruelly. That's ok. Some people are just ass holes. I realize this.
I remember perfectly well the selfish, cruel, nasty things that were done to me. I remember how I was lied to repeatedly and used for people's selfish purposes. And I also remember quite clearly their icy indifference to my suffering after.
I remember how one person in particular who was too ashamed to acknowledge me to his friends. He wasn't too ashamed to have me spend time with him and his child (in private of course), and he wasn't too ashamed to have sex with me, but he sure didn't want his ol' buddies down the street to know! This person looked down on me because I have a spiritual belief system, and because I had not yet finished college and obtained a degree. That must have been why I was so easily pushed to the side for someone who had a master's degree. This someone was sneaky and dishonest with a criminal record and a sexually transmitted disease, but by god they had a degree, so they were good enough to be called his girlfriend! (When I told him I knew her, I wasn't kidding.)
I remember how my house caught fire and I was homeless almost over night, and this person who claimed he cared about me didn't even come over to make sure I was still alive. I remember calling him from the hospital and begging him to please throw away the letter I had written him without reading it, because it no longer mattered. I remember like it was yesterday how that person coldly refused. Coldly refused, even though by his own admission he had no romantic feelings for me. He kept and read that letter for the sheer purpose of tormenting me.
Yet now, now that I have been fortunate enough to have earned a wonderful opportunity to publish my writing, this same, cold hearted person is oh so very interested in my progress with my book. He even asked if I wanted to put one of his 'limericks' in it.
Funny. He didn't seem so interested in me or my poems three years ago when he refused to pay for my beer, even though he was having sex with me, and lied to everyone about it because he was ashamed of me and believed he was SO intellectually superior. He didn't seem to care about me or my writing when I asked what I meant to him and he said that he 'enjoyed sleeping with me'. He didn't seem so interested in the poems that I wrote when he was banging the above mentioned peach with the masters degree.
Now little ol' crazy me (as he used to call me behind my back) without so much as a bachelor's degree writes good enough that a publisher actually wants to print it. Wow he sure didn't see that coming three years ago now did he? I let him read a few of my pieces and he had a hearty laugh, and then dumped me (hmmm...not sure how that happened since he says we were never together in the first place). He sure doesn't have much of an eye for talent, does he?
Well, this is for him. I've got his number, now. I know exactly what he is about. He just wants to use me again. Use me for something different, but use me just the same. He's hoping that once my book is published, he'll have the inside track. He figures I'll help him publish his writing.
So here I am, left wondering if the booze has finally pickled his brain and HE has amnesia, or if he thinks I have forgotten everything that he did to me. Or perhaps he actually thinks that I am so stupid that I don't see what he's about.
Either way, it doesn't matter. I am far from stupid. I've always been more intelligent and perceptive than he ever realized, and I have forgotten nothing. I remember every word; every lie. I remember every humiliating moment when my pride was so coldly crushed beneath his heel. I remember how every hot, bitter tear felt as it fell from my eye and slid down my cheek when I cried in the darkness alone.
Just because I am healed, and just because I have put it behind me, doesn't mean I don't remember it. And it doesn't mean I would be stupid enough to let him use me again. Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it. I will never forget.
You know I was all about being nice and civil and friendly and putting the past behind me. And you know what? I'm still all about that. Life's too short for bitterness (that's why you write ranting blogs like this so you get it out and don't let it fester inside your soul). If I see him, I'll smile and say hi. I'll even have a laugh with him over a beer some night if I happen to be drinking in the same place he is.
Still, I'd like to be clear on one thing.
I know exactly what his repeated inquiries into the progress of my book are really about. It's not about his joy at my success. It's not because he cares how I feel or wishes me the best and wants to witness it because he is happy when I am happy. When he writes me, he doesn't ask how I am, or how life is treating me. He only asks about my book; because, you see, it's about him. It's about getting something that he wants. It's always been about him.
So, forgive me if I am not interested in helping out the man who broke my heart, humiliated me, and exposed me to an incurable STD. (And he should consider himself lucky that I was not infected. It seems there must be some kind of higher power after all, and it was looking out for me when those who should have been, weren't.)
If he wants to publish his writing, he can do what the rest of us do. He can get it done on his own merits.
If he can.
Why do people assume that because I am civil, and nice, and friendly, that I have somehow completely lost my memory?
Why do they assume that because I choose not to dwell on the unkind things that they have said and done to me in the past, and have decided to let go of anger and hurtful feelings, that I have amnesia?
I am not foolish enough to believe that because someone who mistreated me in the past is now friendly and 'nice' to me, that their deep set behavior patterns have changed. Just because someone doesn't like the idea of another person hating them, or being perpetually angry with them, doesn't necessarily mean that they are sorry for the hurtful things they did in the past. To this day, there has been no explanation for why I was treated so cruelly. That's ok. Some people are just ass holes. I realize this.
I remember perfectly well the selfish, cruel, nasty things that were done to me. I remember how I was lied to repeatedly and used for people's selfish purposes. And I also remember quite clearly their icy indifference to my suffering after.
I remember how one person in particular who was too ashamed to acknowledge me to his friends. He wasn't too ashamed to have me spend time with him and his child (in private of course), and he wasn't too ashamed to have sex with me, but he sure didn't want his ol' buddies down the street to know! This person looked down on me because I have a spiritual belief system, and because I had not yet finished college and obtained a degree. That must have been why I was so easily pushed to the side for someone who had a master's degree. This someone was sneaky and dishonest with a criminal record and a sexually transmitted disease, but by god they had a degree, so they were good enough to be called his girlfriend! (When I told him I knew her, I wasn't kidding.)
I remember how my house caught fire and I was homeless almost over night, and this person who claimed he cared about me didn't even come over to make sure I was still alive. I remember calling him from the hospital and begging him to please throw away the letter I had written him without reading it, because it no longer mattered. I remember like it was yesterday how that person coldly refused. Coldly refused, even though by his own admission he had no romantic feelings for me. He kept and read that letter for the sheer purpose of tormenting me.
Yet now, now that I have been fortunate enough to have earned a wonderful opportunity to publish my writing, this same, cold hearted person is oh so very interested in my progress with my book. He even asked if I wanted to put one of his 'limericks' in it.
Funny. He didn't seem so interested in me or my poems three years ago when he refused to pay for my beer, even though he was having sex with me, and lied to everyone about it because he was ashamed of me and believed he was SO intellectually superior. He didn't seem to care about me or my writing when I asked what I meant to him and he said that he 'enjoyed sleeping with me'. He didn't seem so interested in the poems that I wrote when he was banging the above mentioned peach with the masters degree.
Now little ol' crazy me (as he used to call me behind my back) without so much as a bachelor's degree writes good enough that a publisher actually wants to print it. Wow he sure didn't see that coming three years ago now did he? I let him read a few of my pieces and he had a hearty laugh, and then dumped me (hmmm...not sure how that happened since he says we were never together in the first place). He sure doesn't have much of an eye for talent, does he?
Well, this is for him. I've got his number, now. I know exactly what he is about. He just wants to use me again. Use me for something different, but use me just the same. He's hoping that once my book is published, he'll have the inside track. He figures I'll help him publish his writing.
So here I am, left wondering if the booze has finally pickled his brain and HE has amnesia, or if he thinks I have forgotten everything that he did to me. Or perhaps he actually thinks that I am so stupid that I don't see what he's about.
Either way, it doesn't matter. I am far from stupid. I've always been more intelligent and perceptive than he ever realized, and I have forgotten nothing. I remember every word; every lie. I remember every humiliating moment when my pride was so coldly crushed beneath his heel. I remember how every hot, bitter tear felt as it fell from my eye and slid down my cheek when I cried in the darkness alone.
Just because I am healed, and just because I have put it behind me, doesn't mean I don't remember it. And it doesn't mean I would be stupid enough to let him use me again. Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it. I will never forget.
You know I was all about being nice and civil and friendly and putting the past behind me. And you know what? I'm still all about that. Life's too short for bitterness (that's why you write ranting blogs like this so you get it out and don't let it fester inside your soul). If I see him, I'll smile and say hi. I'll even have a laugh with him over a beer some night if I happen to be drinking in the same place he is.
Still, I'd like to be clear on one thing.
I know exactly what his repeated inquiries into the progress of my book are really about. It's not about his joy at my success. It's not because he cares how I feel or wishes me the best and wants to witness it because he is happy when I am happy. When he writes me, he doesn't ask how I am, or how life is treating me. He only asks about my book; because, you see, it's about him. It's about getting something that he wants. It's always been about him.
So, forgive me if I am not interested in helping out the man who broke my heart, humiliated me, and exposed me to an incurable STD. (And he should consider himself lucky that I was not infected. It seems there must be some kind of higher power after all, and it was looking out for me when those who should have been, weren't.)
If he wants to publish his writing, he can do what the rest of us do. He can get it done on his own merits.
If he can.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Music!
Last weekend (after I finally had my beautiful dragonfly tattooed on my foot) I invested in some much needed music.
1. Johnny Cash (box set)
2. Neko Case "Middle Cyclone"
I must say, I love them both! I LOVE Johnny Cash!!!
Of course, how can you NOT like Johnny Cash? Seriously!
Oh, and I love my dragonfly too!
1. Johnny Cash (box set)
2. Neko Case "Middle Cyclone"
I must say, I love them both! I LOVE Johnny Cash!!!
Of course, how can you NOT like Johnny Cash? Seriously!
Oh, and I love my dragonfly too!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Come Uppance
At last! I have reported my former employer to the State and Federal powers that be regarding the following:
1. They deliberately pay their employees incorrectly when they have worked overtime, even though they approved it in advance and the employee worked it. This forces the employee to have to wait until another pay period for their overtime pay.
2. They deliberately pay their employees the wrong hourly wage (a lesser wage).
3. They require employees to attend mandatory staff meetings, and do not pay them for their time spent in the meetings.
4. There is constant mental abuse to employees on a regular basis, including the use of profanity, creating a hostile work environment for many employees.
4. They discriminate based on religion and race, as well as against people who are overweight. Management allows certain employees to send out offensive, discriminatory e-mails regarding religion and race.
5. One employee threatened to kill another and nothing was done about it. Rather, the person who informed the employee whose life had been threatened was told she was going to be written up and have a derogatory item placed in her personnel file if she mentioned it again.
6. Employees are not given evaluations timely, if at all, and are told that no raises are retroactive. Employees have to insist on evaluations repeatedly before they are done.
7. Management puts derogatory items in employees personnel files without notifying the employee.
8. Employees are denied timely access to personnel files.
9. Employees are penalized for taking time off for deaths in the family.
10. Several employees have had their paychecks bounce on repeated occasions, and when they complain about it they are told it is the fault of their personal bank and they need to change banks.
11. Management has physically put their hands on employees in an abusive manner.
12. There is a subcontracted social worker that Progressive uses and he has on many occasions sexually harassed employees. It happened to me and I had to make 4 complaints before any action was taken. After the HR person talked to him, he attempted the very next day to intimidate me.
Some people are about to get their come uppance!!
MWAHAHAHAHAA!!!!
1. They deliberately pay their employees incorrectly when they have worked overtime, even though they approved it in advance and the employee worked it. This forces the employee to have to wait until another pay period for their overtime pay.
2. They deliberately pay their employees the wrong hourly wage (a lesser wage).
3. They require employees to attend mandatory staff meetings, and do not pay them for their time spent in the meetings.
4. There is constant mental abuse to employees on a regular basis, including the use of profanity, creating a hostile work environment for many employees.
4. They discriminate based on religion and race, as well as against people who are overweight. Management allows certain employees to send out offensive, discriminatory e-mails regarding religion and race.
5. One employee threatened to kill another and nothing was done about it. Rather, the person who informed the employee whose life had been threatened was told she was going to be written up and have a derogatory item placed in her personnel file if she mentioned it again.
6. Employees are not given evaluations timely, if at all, and are told that no raises are retroactive. Employees have to insist on evaluations repeatedly before they are done.
7. Management puts derogatory items in employees personnel files without notifying the employee.
8. Employees are denied timely access to personnel files.
9. Employees are penalized for taking time off for deaths in the family.
10. Several employees have had their paychecks bounce on repeated occasions, and when they complain about it they are told it is the fault of their personal bank and they need to change banks.
11. Management has physically put their hands on employees in an abusive manner.
12. There is a subcontracted social worker that Progressive uses and he has on many occasions sexually harassed employees. It happened to me and I had to make 4 complaints before any action was taken. After the HR person talked to him, he attempted the very next day to intimidate me.
Some people are about to get their come uppance!!
MWAHAHAHAHAA!!!!
Friday, May 1, 2009
The Difference Between Moral Support and Enabling
I have to say that I am a little annoyed.
Why is it that people think that because I am their friend I must enable them and lie to them so that they can feel validated about continuing on with their self-defeating habits and lifestyles? Seriously, people, I don't care! Live your life how you please! Just don't expect me to agree that you are making the best choices when I don't. It's not judgment - it's disagreement. There is a big difference.
I am more than happy to be there for you and be a listening ear. I will listen patiently after you drunk dial me and while you blather on in your slurred words and blubbering voice. I will do everything I can to make you feel better about yourself if I know you are feeling down (if you don't tell me you're down then don't get mad at me that I didn't know). I will do all I possibly can to provide help for you if you need it and are willing to help yourself. I will defend you fiercely to others when they say unkind things about you. THAT is moral support.
Just remember that part of friendship is allowing me express my opinion as well. If you are constantly talking to me about how miserable your lives are, then expect me to voice an opinion now and then. I think for all of what I have stated above that I have earned the right to do so. Otherwise it's a one way street and not a friendship at all. If that upsets you, complain to someone else because even I have my limits. Even I should have the right to lose patience now and then - I am human just like everybody else. You should also know by now that if you are going to ask me a question, be sure you really want to know the answer because I WILL be honest.That is my nature. I will no longer try to disguise it for others.
Furthermore, just because my opinion on a specific matter may seem harsh to you, does not mean that I do not love you or value your friendship. Just because I think you may be in the wrong in a particular situation does not mean that I think you are wrong in every situation. Just because I think that a particular action on your part was foolish, doesn't mean I believe you are a fool.
Friends are supposed to be loyal and compassionate and fun. We are supposed to have each others backs when times are good and times are bad. We are supposed to be honest with each other when we ask a question. Not unkind, but honest. Whether the question is "Does my butt look big in these pants?" or "Do you think I am in the wrong here?"
We deserve that much from our friends at least.
Why is it that people think that because I am their friend I must enable them and lie to them so that they can feel validated about continuing on with their self-defeating habits and lifestyles? Seriously, people, I don't care! Live your life how you please! Just don't expect me to agree that you are making the best choices when I don't. It's not judgment - it's disagreement. There is a big difference.
I am more than happy to be there for you and be a listening ear. I will listen patiently after you drunk dial me and while you blather on in your slurred words and blubbering voice. I will do everything I can to make you feel better about yourself if I know you are feeling down (if you don't tell me you're down then don't get mad at me that I didn't know). I will do all I possibly can to provide help for you if you need it and are willing to help yourself. I will defend you fiercely to others when they say unkind things about you. THAT is moral support.
Just remember that part of friendship is allowing me express my opinion as well. If you are constantly talking to me about how miserable your lives are, then expect me to voice an opinion now and then. I think for all of what I have stated above that I have earned the right to do so. Otherwise it's a one way street and not a friendship at all. If that upsets you, complain to someone else because even I have my limits. Even I should have the right to lose patience now and then - I am human just like everybody else. You should also know by now that if you are going to ask me a question, be sure you really want to know the answer because I WILL be honest.That is my nature. I will no longer try to disguise it for others.
Furthermore, just because my opinion on a specific matter may seem harsh to you, does not mean that I do not love you or value your friendship. Just because I think you may be in the wrong in a particular situation does not mean that I think you are wrong in every situation. Just because I think that a particular action on your part was foolish, doesn't mean I believe you are a fool.
Friends are supposed to be loyal and compassionate and fun. We are supposed to have each others backs when times are good and times are bad. We are supposed to be honest with each other when we ask a question. Not unkind, but honest. Whether the question is "Does my butt look big in these pants?" or "Do you think I am in the wrong here?"
We deserve that much from our friends at least.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Life is Good!
It seems for the first time in a very long time that my life is going really, really well! I have lost 27 lbs since March 18th. My hours got increased at work (while others around the country are getting their hours cut or losing their jobs completely). I have a second job that provides me with extra money and has a very convenient and flexible schedule. I finally have gotten my finances in order.
I am so happy! I am so grateful for how things are going for me right now. At last the negativity and drama that has been so prevalent in my life during the past several years is gone!
Life is good!
I am so happy! I am so grateful for how things are going for me right now. At last the negativity and drama that has been so prevalent in my life during the past several years is gone!
Life is good!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Lessons
It seems that every time I turn around there is an opportunity for me to learn. For me to evolve spiritually, so to speak. This particular lesson keeps presenting itself repeatedly - so it appears it is one I really need to learn.
I am a very passionate, opinionated, hot-tempered person. I am also very sensitive and compassionate. Unfortunately, this leads me to make what are oftentimes unwise decisions. I try to resolve difficulties in the best way I know how (without completely abandoning my own beliefs, opinions, and pride), when I should have just left the situation alone in the first place. My heart is usually in the right place. Ultimately, however, I usually end up making the situation far worse that it would have been otherwise.
When will I ever learn to just step back and let it be? Time will resolve most things. If I would just learn to be a little more patient.
I am a very passionate, opinionated, hot-tempered person. I am also very sensitive and compassionate. Unfortunately, this leads me to make what are oftentimes unwise decisions. I try to resolve difficulties in the best way I know how (without completely abandoning my own beliefs, opinions, and pride), when I should have just left the situation alone in the first place. My heart is usually in the right place. Ultimately, however, I usually end up making the situation far worse that it would have been otherwise.
When will I ever learn to just step back and let it be? Time will resolve most things. If I would just learn to be a little more patient.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Exercise!
Yesterday I rode my bike to and from work. Then I walked on my morning break for 15 minutes, my lunch break for 30 minutes, went rollerblading for 30 minutes after work, and last but not least I went for an hour and fifteen minute walk with my friend Leana. WOO HOO! I love exercise, especially when it is this gorgeous outside!
I'm kind of bummed that as of this weekend it's supposed to get rainy and icky again. Ah, well. This too shall pass, and when it does, I'll be outside again! At least I have one more day (today) to enjoy the sun!!
I'm kind of bummed that as of this weekend it's supposed to get rainy and icky again. Ah, well. This too shall pass, and when it does, I'll be outside again! At least I have one more day (today) to enjoy the sun!!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Summertime
Approaches, it seems! It is 82 degrees out there and I LOVE it! Though, only one more day of this and then we have another week of off and on rain. That's ok though, because after that it should stay pretty nice and warm, and I can't wait!
Mars Retrograde
Dude, what is UP with people lately? Is everyone really this hypersensitive, or are they being just plain combative? Is expressing an honest opinion or pointing out my knowledge of certain facts really that upsetting?
Stop and ask yourselves why a friend would deliberately say things that are hurtful, or snotty, or irritating. Maybe they wouldn't. Maybe they are just making conversation, and it's being misunderstood. Instead of responding in sarcastic and/or sneaky manner, why not just be direct and ask a person what they meant by their comment or where they gained knowledge of a certain matter? Even a response of "Yeah, well, who cares?" would be preferable. Why is it necessary to immediately assume there are rude or smartass intentions and motives there that aren't? It seems to me that people are either reacting without thinking, or are over-thinking things completely.
What does a snide attitude do to benefit anything other than a person's own ego?
In the meantime, I am going to keep my mouth shut and my fingers off the keyboard until this - whatever it is that is making people so grumpy has passed. Or, until whatever it is that is making my e-mails, comments, posts, conversations seem so offensive or hypercritical passes.
Good grief!
Stop and ask yourselves why a friend would deliberately say things that are hurtful, or snotty, or irritating. Maybe they wouldn't. Maybe they are just making conversation, and it's being misunderstood. Instead of responding in sarcastic and/or sneaky manner, why not just be direct and ask a person what they meant by their comment or where they gained knowledge of a certain matter? Even a response of "Yeah, well, who cares?" would be preferable. Why is it necessary to immediately assume there are rude or smartass intentions and motives there that aren't? It seems to me that people are either reacting without thinking, or are over-thinking things completely.
What does a snide attitude do to benefit anything other than a person's own ego?
In the meantime, I am going to keep my mouth shut and my fingers off the keyboard until this - whatever it is that is making people so grumpy has passed. Or, until whatever it is that is making my e-mails, comments, posts, conversations seem so offensive or hypercritical passes.
Good grief!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Lucky
On Memorial Day of 2001, I was rollerblading on the greenbelt with my friend Alex. I decided that I wanted to race him, and prove to him once and for all how much better I was on skates than he was. Unfortunately for me, I turned my head back to gloat about this to him. This is when I hit the frost heave on the greenbelt.
The next thing I remember is sitting on the ground next to the greenbelt trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. I felt some kind of warm liquid running down my face and the side of my neck. I touched it with my fingertips looked at it; it was red, so I realized it must be blood. I took off my ballcap and touched my head (that hurt tremendously, I remember that part very clearly). I could also vaguely hear my friend Alex shouting something at me, but I was having a hard time figuring out what it was he wanted to know, and I was annoyed that he kept repeating himself. Couldn't he see that I was clearly trying to form a sentence to ask him what he wanted? Finally, after he asked the same question at least four times, I was able to gather that he wanted to know if I was ok.
"Sure," I said. "I'm fine. Give me just a second here and we can go. I just need to rest a minute."
Alex responded that he didn't think it was a good idea.
"Why?" I asked. "I'm a little banged up but I'll be fine."
"No," he responded. "Blood is spurting out of your head. I do not think you should rollerblade back."
In the meantime, a kind couple who were biking on the greenbelt stopped and offered to help. The woman took her sweatshirt and used it to soak up the blood from my head (it kept running into my eyes). Needless to say, the sweatshirt was ruined.
After my husband Nick (now ex) arrived to pick us up, we went to the hospital. The nurses asked me how it happened. I told them what I thought at the time was a hilarious joke. I pointed to my ex-husband and my friend Alex and said "They did it! They were trying to kill me and they stuck a stick out in front of me while I was skating!" The response was gasps from Alex and Nick, and straight, serious faces from the nurses. I learned later that I was in shock. Apparently making dumb jokes is one of the symptoms.
I had to get twelve staples in my head, and my elbow bone was bruised (I still sport a scar there), I had a headache for about three days. I had trouble ordering garlic breadsticks the next day at a restaurant (apparently I kept asking for garlic instead of garlic breadsticks and couldn't figure out why the waitress kept asking if I was sure that I really wanted a raw clove of garlic), but otherwise I came out just fine.
In June of 2006, I was riding my bike with a couple of people I know. The last thing I remember was skipping a song on my cd player. The next thing I remember after that was waking up in an ambulance. I saw one of my friends wave and shut the door. Then the paramedic started asking me questions. What's your name, how old are you, where are we, who's your daddy (haha ok another dumb joke). When he asked me what year it was, I couldn't answer. I could not for the life of me figure out what year it was.
I cannot tell you how frightening it is to not know what year it is.
I do not remember the ride to the hospital. Nor do I remember the nurse who scolded me repeatedly for not wearing a helmet.
I do remember a headache and feeling sick to my stomach. I remember my friend telling me a dog joke that he had told me at least three times already (but the thought was nice).
I didn't have to get any staples this time. But they did do a couple of MRI's or CT scans or whatever they are, to make sure I was ok. I had a little trouble with stuttering for a few months after that. It was mild enough that no one noticed except for me. Even now if I try to speak too fast or get too excited about something I tend to slurr my 's' a bit. Other than that,I am ok.
Either I have a rock hard skull or I am a very lucky person. I fell twice and hit my head right smack on concrete, and came out pretty much unscathed. It is astonishing to me that Natasha Richardson can have such a simple fall on the bunny hill and not survive.
Her loss is a loss to us all. It is very tragic and sad.
As for me, I consider myself very lucky to still be alive.
The next thing I remember is sitting on the ground next to the greenbelt trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. I felt some kind of warm liquid running down my face and the side of my neck. I touched it with my fingertips looked at it; it was red, so I realized it must be blood. I took off my ballcap and touched my head (that hurt tremendously, I remember that part very clearly). I could also vaguely hear my friend Alex shouting something at me, but I was having a hard time figuring out what it was he wanted to know, and I was annoyed that he kept repeating himself. Couldn't he see that I was clearly trying to form a sentence to ask him what he wanted? Finally, after he asked the same question at least four times, I was able to gather that he wanted to know if I was ok.
"Sure," I said. "I'm fine. Give me just a second here and we can go. I just need to rest a minute."
Alex responded that he didn't think it was a good idea.
"Why?" I asked. "I'm a little banged up but I'll be fine."
"No," he responded. "Blood is spurting out of your head. I do not think you should rollerblade back."
In the meantime, a kind couple who were biking on the greenbelt stopped and offered to help. The woman took her sweatshirt and used it to soak up the blood from my head (it kept running into my eyes). Needless to say, the sweatshirt was ruined.
After my husband Nick (now ex) arrived to pick us up, we went to the hospital. The nurses asked me how it happened. I told them what I thought at the time was a hilarious joke. I pointed to my ex-husband and my friend Alex and said "They did it! They were trying to kill me and they stuck a stick out in front of me while I was skating!" The response was gasps from Alex and Nick, and straight, serious faces from the nurses. I learned later that I was in shock. Apparently making dumb jokes is one of the symptoms.
I had to get twelve staples in my head, and my elbow bone was bruised (I still sport a scar there), I had a headache for about three days. I had trouble ordering garlic breadsticks the next day at a restaurant (apparently I kept asking for garlic instead of garlic breadsticks and couldn't figure out why the waitress kept asking if I was sure that I really wanted a raw clove of garlic), but otherwise I came out just fine.
In June of 2006, I was riding my bike with a couple of people I know. The last thing I remember was skipping a song on my cd player. The next thing I remember after that was waking up in an ambulance. I saw one of my friends wave and shut the door. Then the paramedic started asking me questions. What's your name, how old are you, where are we, who's your daddy (haha ok another dumb joke). When he asked me what year it was, I couldn't answer. I could not for the life of me figure out what year it was.
I cannot tell you how frightening it is to not know what year it is.
I do not remember the ride to the hospital. Nor do I remember the nurse who scolded me repeatedly for not wearing a helmet.
I do remember a headache and feeling sick to my stomach. I remember my friend telling me a dog joke that he had told me at least three times already (but the thought was nice).
I didn't have to get any staples this time. But they did do a couple of MRI's or CT scans or whatever they are, to make sure I was ok. I had a little trouble with stuttering for a few months after that. It was mild enough that no one noticed except for me. Even now if I try to speak too fast or get too excited about something I tend to slurr my 's' a bit. Other than that,I am ok.
Either I have a rock hard skull or I am a very lucky person. I fell twice and hit my head right smack on concrete, and came out pretty much unscathed. It is astonishing to me that Natasha Richardson can have such a simple fall on the bunny hill and not survive.
Her loss is a loss to us all. It is very tragic and sad.
As for me, I consider myself very lucky to still be alive.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
A Funny
On the Today show yesterday they were interviewing this Irishman who had
been living in New York for a couple of years.They were asking him
about how the people there had been treating him.
He said, "Oh they treat us like we're stupid or crazy. You know they
think we all believe in Leprechauns and such. When everyone knows that
there are no more Leprechauns because of global warming."
I laughed so hard I got tears in my eyes. It was hilarious. It must be
my Irish heritage that gives me my sense of humor.
been living in New York for a couple of years.They were asking him
about how the people there had been treating him.
He said, "Oh they treat us like we're stupid or crazy. You know they
think we all believe in Leprechauns and such. When everyone knows that
there are no more Leprechauns because of global warming."
I laughed so hard I got tears in my eyes. It was hilarious. It must be
my Irish heritage that gives me my sense of humor.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Shoes
This is ridiculous.
It almost would have been worth it if one shoe, just one shoe, had hit Bush's dumbass head right smack in the kisser!
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090312/ap_on_re_mi_ea/ml_iraq
It almost would have been worth it if one shoe, just one shoe, had hit Bush's dumbass head right smack in the kisser!
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090312/ap_on_re_mi_ea/ml_iraq
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Small Annoyances
Will someone please explain to me why common sense and attention to detail seems to be such a rarity among Social Workers?
Why does it always seem to take five or six reminders for them to get one small task accomplished? I hate nagging. And yet, if I don't, the work doesn't get done.
Excel is not that hard. At least not the basics. For your average person, that is. To a Social Worker, however, using excel seems to be one of the most difficult things they have ever done! A typical question from them about excel is: "Why don't the zeros show up in this cell when I enter 2.00?" Are you kidding me!?
Fortunately, if I am not able to bill correctly due to something the Social Workers have not done, or because of some information they have not provided me, then they do not get paid for those hours. That seems to be a pretty good incentive, and far more effective than all the nagging.
They should send me roses for all the mistakes I have to fix for them every week and for all of the annoyances they cause me!
Yeah, like that will happen!
Ok. I'm done ranting now. Good people, important jobs. Just annoying as hell to someone in accounting.
PS
(Do not see blog post entitled "Just Call Me Bonnie". I am not in accounting at home, and that was a ONE TIME INCIDENT! Not a weekly one!)
Why does it always seem to take five or six reminders for them to get one small task accomplished? I hate nagging. And yet, if I don't, the work doesn't get done.
Excel is not that hard. At least not the basics. For your average person, that is. To a Social Worker, however, using excel seems to be one of the most difficult things they have ever done! A typical question from them about excel is: "Why don't the zeros show up in this cell when I enter 2.00?" Are you kidding me!?
Fortunately, if I am not able to bill correctly due to something the Social Workers have not done, or because of some information they have not provided me, then they do not get paid for those hours. That seems to be a pretty good incentive, and far more effective than all the nagging.
They should send me roses for all the mistakes I have to fix for them every week and for all of the annoyances they cause me!
Yeah, like that will happen!
Ok. I'm done ranting now. Good people, important jobs. Just annoying as hell to someone in accounting.
PS
(Do not see blog post entitled "Just Call Me Bonnie". I am not in accounting at home, and that was a ONE TIME INCIDENT! Not a weekly one!)
Bush Cronies
I wish these people would just crawl under a rock. Or sink into the ground. Or spontaneously combust. Just so long as they disappear!
http://news.yahoo.com/s/politico/20090311/pl_politico/19861
http://news.yahoo.com/s/politico/20090311/pl_politico/19861
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
An Evening in March
I am enjoying a nice Chianti, listening to beautiful music, and writing poems.
If only there were someone here (other than my cats) to enjoy my wine with me.
I should have picked up that cute guy that I used to work with...I saw him in Albertsons when I was getting my wine.
Too late now.
Ah, well. All the more wine for me! :-)
If only there were someone here (other than my cats) to enjoy my wine with me.
I should have picked up that cute guy that I used to work with...I saw him in Albertsons when I was getting my wine.
Too late now.
Ah, well. All the more wine for me! :-)
Lycans
I wonder why there are no female werewolves? It seems to me they get just as nutty at the full moon as men. I will need to research this further...
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
War Movies
Saturday night I was up late. I was drinking wine and watching TV. The movie 'Black Hawk Down' came on. I was not going to watch it, as I hate war movies. I decided to go ahead, because it was full of gorgeous men. I should have known better.
I hate war movies because I can't tolerate the brutality. It seriously upsets me, and I can literally start having anxiety attacks when I watch them. This is because of my awareness that most war movies are based on real events. Some of the story may be fictional, but primarily all war movies are about actual wars that have occurred throughout history.
Isn't it strange how humans consider themselves the most superior species on earth? We are supposed to be more evolved than any other animal in the world. Yet, we are the only species on earth to commit such atrocious acts of brutality against each other. Not to other species (though we do that as well) but to each other. And for what? Territory? Power? Control? Money?
We humans may believe we are superior and highly evolved, but we are not. We cannot even extend compassion to each other, let alone for other species. Until we learn to do so, we will be less that the other species we deem inferior and whom we call 'beasts'.
I hate war movies because I can't tolerate the brutality. It seriously upsets me, and I can literally start having anxiety attacks when I watch them. This is because of my awareness that most war movies are based on real events. Some of the story may be fictional, but primarily all war movies are about actual wars that have occurred throughout history.
Isn't it strange how humans consider themselves the most superior species on earth? We are supposed to be more evolved than any other animal in the world. Yet, we are the only species on earth to commit such atrocious acts of brutality against each other. Not to other species (though we do that as well) but to each other. And for what? Territory? Power? Control? Money?
We humans may believe we are superior and highly evolved, but we are not. We cannot even extend compassion to each other, let alone for other species. Until we learn to do so, we will be less that the other species we deem inferior and whom we call 'beasts'.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Divorce
The IT guy in my office is going through a divorce. Every time he comes upstairs, and when I go downstairs for whatever reason, I hear him talking about it. On and on and on it goes.
I really have to say that despite the way Nick treated me and all that he put me through throughout our marriage, I am so grateful that our divorce was amicable! I can't imagine how much worse it would have been if either one of us had decided to be difficult. Or spiteful.
I can understand people feeling vindictive after they are hurt, or rejected. And I can understand why someone would be hurt and frustrated at someone purposely lashing out at them because of it. I've been on both sides of that fence. It just seems to me that divorce is hard enough on everyone in the first place. It seems to me that when it becomes a battle over finances that is really about getting even, it makes it hard on everyone.
I feel for the guy. I do, but I am getting tired of hearing about his and his soon to be ex-wife's vindictive behaviors and statements. I'm just not sure that work is the appropriate outlet for that frustration.
I really have to say that despite the way Nick treated me and all that he put me through throughout our marriage, I am so grateful that our divorce was amicable! I can't imagine how much worse it would have been if either one of us had decided to be difficult. Or spiteful.
I can understand people feeling vindictive after they are hurt, or rejected. And I can understand why someone would be hurt and frustrated at someone purposely lashing out at them because of it. I've been on both sides of that fence. It just seems to me that divorce is hard enough on everyone in the first place. It seems to me that when it becomes a battle over finances that is really about getting even, it makes it hard on everyone.
I feel for the guy. I do, but I am getting tired of hearing about his and his soon to be ex-wife's vindictive behaviors and statements. I'm just not sure that work is the appropriate outlet for that frustration.
My hometown
So I've done some thinking about my post regarding my hometown yesterday. I have begun to think that it is not completely fair. I should not accuse everyone that lives there or ever lived there of being hateful.
There are some really good people that still live in my hometown. People who are not, and were not, cold and cruel. I am sure there are people there whom I do not know personally that are none of those things either.
I do not have only sad memories of my home town. I also have many pleasant memories of my childhood there. There are places and people there that I will always remember with fondness. I imagine also that I am the person I am today because I am a sum of my experiences, not the least of which occurred there.
So if anyone read this and thought I was being too harsh and angry, forgive me. Though what I said was true, from my viewpoint, I do not mean to indicate that everything about my hometown is bad. I was having a moment of unpleasantness due to some painful memories and I was overwhelmed.
There are some really good people that still live in my hometown. People who are not, and were not, cold and cruel. I am sure there are people there whom I do not know personally that are none of those things either.
I do not have only sad memories of my home town. I also have many pleasant memories of my childhood there. There are places and people there that I will always remember with fondness. I imagine also that I am the person I am today because I am a sum of my experiences, not the least of which occurred there.
So if anyone read this and thought I was being too harsh and angry, forgive me. Though what I said was true, from my viewpoint, I do not mean to indicate that everything about my hometown is bad. I was having a moment of unpleasantness due to some painful memories and I was overwhelmed.
How Ridiculous!
A friend of mine whom I worked with at my old place of employment sent me an e-mail this morning. She informed me that the owner (aka The Petty Tyrant) is going to film a commercial with a local TV station, as well as record one for am radio.
How did I respond to this?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! HOW RIDICULOUS!
Why do I laugh, you ask? Allow me to provide you with a list of my reasons why.
1. The company (which is run by The Petty Tyrant) is so far behind on payroll taxes they are in danger of being in serious trouble with the IRS.
2. The Clinical Coordinator, who was responsible for keeping the company's reputation in semi-good shape with customers and patients in the field has finally had enough and left the company.
3. The company can barely pay it's regular monthly bills due to the owner spending freely whenever she chooses from the company accounts. She buys new clothes, takes vacations (last year she took 8 vacations), and generally spends her money on other non-necessary things. How is she going to afford to pay for two commercials?
4. The employee's paychecks bounce. No, I am not kidding. My other friend who works there and has to support two children under the age of three by herself has had her paycheck bounce five times.
5. The owner will not know how to accommodate the new business should it actually be brought in as a result of these commercials. She drives all her nurses away with her obsessive-compulsive need for control, her enraged outbursts and her verbally abusive, condescending behavior (please see my previous blogs regarding this subject).
6. The owner and the person in charge of the finance department purposely defraud their employees of rightfully earned overtime and other wages, and they have been dishonest with their dealings with the IRS, and I am going to report them (I should have done it ages ago but have not gotten around to it). A commercial is not going to save them from their own unethical behavior.
That is why I think the idea of them spending money on commercials is absolutely ridiculous!
How did I respond to this?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! HOW RIDICULOUS!
Why do I laugh, you ask? Allow me to provide you with a list of my reasons why.
1. The company (which is run by The Petty Tyrant) is so far behind on payroll taxes they are in danger of being in serious trouble with the IRS.
2. The Clinical Coordinator, who was responsible for keeping the company's reputation in semi-good shape with customers and patients in the field has finally had enough and left the company.
3. The company can barely pay it's regular monthly bills due to the owner spending freely whenever she chooses from the company accounts. She buys new clothes, takes vacations (last year she took 8 vacations), and generally spends her money on other non-necessary things. How is she going to afford to pay for two commercials?
4. The employee's paychecks bounce. No, I am not kidding. My other friend who works there and has to support two children under the age of three by herself has had her paycheck bounce five times.
5. The owner will not know how to accommodate the new business should it actually be brought in as a result of these commercials. She drives all her nurses away with her obsessive-compulsive need for control, her enraged outbursts and her verbally abusive, condescending behavior (please see my previous blogs regarding this subject).
6. The owner and the person in charge of the finance department purposely defraud their employees of rightfully earned overtime and other wages, and they have been dishonest with their dealings with the IRS, and I am going to report them (I should have done it ages ago but have not gotten around to it). A commercial is not going to save them from their own unethical behavior.
That is why I think the idea of them spending money on commercials is absolutely ridiculous!
Spring
Will it ever get here?
The greenbelt is calling me. I want to go rollerblading! I want to go biking!
The greenbelt is calling me. I want to go rollerblading! I want to go biking!
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Boyfriends
Here is my friend Hilary's boyfriend.
Here is my boyfriend.
Once again, I have better taste in men than she does.
PS
HA HA HA!
Here is my boyfriend.
Once again, I have better taste in men than she does.
PS
HA HA HA!
I Hate Small Towns
I was looking at a friends facebook page today. Someone I knew growing up. I decided to look at some of his friends. Talk about a blast from the past, and not in a good way.
It is interesting to me how many people seem to romanticize the small town in America (particularly the Republicans). It is my belief that these people have either never lived in a small town, or they are just like the hateful people I knew in my own hometown.
Seeing so many of the people from my hometown brought back memories of just how cruel that place really was, and probably still is. It reminded me of all the horrible things that were said about me and my family. Little bits of truth that mutated to become unrecognizable tall tales and outright lies. There is a lot of truth in the phrase, "It takes a whole village to raise a child."
Don't get me wrong. There were a few unique people who treated me with respect and kindness. A few people who became lifelong friends. The majority, however, were cold and cruel.
It wasn't enough that my siblings and I were innocent. We were stuck in a home with a father and mother who beat us, enslaved us, isolated us, and made sure to tell us on a daily basis what rotten, stupid, perverted and evil little bastards we all were. This was not considered by the villagers, however. We were simply classified as freaks like our parents and were therefore the perfect laughing stock for the town.
The most astounding thing as an adult is to look back and see the gross hypocrisy of the people there. One of the individuals I saw on facebook is a woman who when she was a girl, had acted out on me when I was a tiny child (5 years old) what her abuser - her father - had done to her. The same man who was so quick to point the finger at my parents, and who was also in law enforcement.
These are people who called my little sister a tramp when she was fifteen and at that time had only ever been with one boy. People who called me crazy and ugly and fat and weird. The same people who knew perfectly well we were abused from the time we were very little, and yet not once did they try to help us. Not once.
It is funny to me also that after all these years I find out that someone whom I thought was my friend back then was making fun of me behind my back, and I am still surprised. He told me the boy I liked, liked me too. He insisted that I display my interest and be assertive because the boy I liked was timid, and just needed a nudge. All the while he is making fun of me, behind my back, to that boy, who wondered why I came on so strong. I was idealistic and trusting, and what a joke I was to them!
Speaking for myself, I can say that all I really wanted was for them to accept me. I had been home-schooled for most of my childhood, and I was not exactly accustomed to social situations among my peers. I had been completely isolated for so long that my efforts to display interest in a boy I liked, or to start a new friendship with a girl my age were perceived as overly serious, pushy, or just plain weird. Really, I was just an awkward kid who wanted to have some friends her own age (or close to it), and maybe a boyfriend. I had just been isolated for so long that I was literally terrified of being around my peers in the first place, and yet I was determined to overcome that fear. All the while dealing with the abuse at home.
I wanted the people there to see me for the person I truly was, not for what my parents were or what the rumors said I was. I wanted to be accepted and valued as a part of the community. Instead, I was shunned. I remember many nights when I cried myself to sleep wishing that I could run away from that place and all of them, and never look back.
It is amazing how different things are now. Now, I am an independent, self-confident, out going woman. I am aware, now, of my own value. I have (or had), friends and lovers who appreciate me and recognize my worth.
I value the few precious friends that I have left in that place. I love them and would not trade their friendship for the world. And there are others who have, like me, turned their back (for the most part) on that place, and I appreciate them as well.
As for the rest of that cesspool, I am well rid of it and it's hateful occupants.
It is interesting to me how many people seem to romanticize the small town in America (particularly the Republicans). It is my belief that these people have either never lived in a small town, or they are just like the hateful people I knew in my own hometown.
Seeing so many of the people from my hometown brought back memories of just how cruel that place really was, and probably still is. It reminded me of all the horrible things that were said about me and my family. Little bits of truth that mutated to become unrecognizable tall tales and outright lies. There is a lot of truth in the phrase, "It takes a whole village to raise a child."
Don't get me wrong. There were a few unique people who treated me with respect and kindness. A few people who became lifelong friends. The majority, however, were cold and cruel.
It wasn't enough that my siblings and I were innocent. We were stuck in a home with a father and mother who beat us, enslaved us, isolated us, and made sure to tell us on a daily basis what rotten, stupid, perverted and evil little bastards we all were. This was not considered by the villagers, however. We were simply classified as freaks like our parents and were therefore the perfect laughing stock for the town.
The most astounding thing as an adult is to look back and see the gross hypocrisy of the people there. One of the individuals I saw on facebook is a woman who when she was a girl, had acted out on me when I was a tiny child (5 years old) what her abuser - her father - had done to her. The same man who was so quick to point the finger at my parents, and who was also in law enforcement.
These are people who called my little sister a tramp when she was fifteen and at that time had only ever been with one boy. People who called me crazy and ugly and fat and weird. The same people who knew perfectly well we were abused from the time we were very little, and yet not once did they try to help us. Not once.
It is funny to me also that after all these years I find out that someone whom I thought was my friend back then was making fun of me behind my back, and I am still surprised. He told me the boy I liked, liked me too. He insisted that I display my interest and be assertive because the boy I liked was timid, and just needed a nudge. All the while he is making fun of me, behind my back, to that boy, who wondered why I came on so strong. I was idealistic and trusting, and what a joke I was to them!
Speaking for myself, I can say that all I really wanted was for them to accept me. I had been home-schooled for most of my childhood, and I was not exactly accustomed to social situations among my peers. I had been completely isolated for so long that my efforts to display interest in a boy I liked, or to start a new friendship with a girl my age were perceived as overly serious, pushy, or just plain weird. Really, I was just an awkward kid who wanted to have some friends her own age (or close to it), and maybe a boyfriend. I had just been isolated for so long that I was literally terrified of being around my peers in the first place, and yet I was determined to overcome that fear. All the while dealing with the abuse at home.
I wanted the people there to see me for the person I truly was, not for what my parents were or what the rumors said I was. I wanted to be accepted and valued as a part of the community. Instead, I was shunned. I remember many nights when I cried myself to sleep wishing that I could run away from that place and all of them, and never look back.
It is amazing how different things are now. Now, I am an independent, self-confident, out going woman. I am aware, now, of my own value. I have (or had), friends and lovers who appreciate me and recognize my worth.
I value the few precious friends that I have left in that place. I love them and would not trade their friendship for the world. And there are others who have, like me, turned their back (for the most part) on that place, and I appreciate them as well.
As for the rest of that cesspool, I am well rid of it and it's hateful occupants.
Monday, February 9, 2009
My Poetry
This is to all of you who are guilty of one of the following offenses:
1. You didn't bother to read my poems.
2. You didn't like them.
3. You laughed at them, and then immediately dumped me.
4. You failed to return my phone call last weekend.
I was going to add "You were jealous of my astounding literary talent", but I have decided that you should not be penalized for being jealous of my abilities. Who wouldn't be? (Just kidding.)
I would like to inform you that I have received a request from a publisher for an entire manuscript. I am about to be published. HA!
So THERE!
PS
Hehehehee! I am so stoked!
1. You didn't bother to read my poems.
2. You didn't like them.
3. You laughed at them, and then immediately dumped me.
4. You failed to return my phone call last weekend.
I was going to add "You were jealous of my astounding literary talent", but I have decided that you should not be penalized for being jealous of my abilities. Who wouldn't be? (Just kidding.)
I would like to inform you that I have received a request from a publisher for an entire manuscript. I am about to be published. HA!
So THERE!
PS
Hehehehee! I am so stoked!
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Public Apology
I would like to take a moment to apologize for the atrocious behavior of one of the members of my man-harem. For the sake of privacy, I will not use his name. I will simply call him # 7.
I am ashamed to say that the behavior of # 7 came to light this morning after a recording of him was released to the public. I would like to be clear that I am not upset, nor am I apologizing for
# 7 because of what he said on the tape. I could care less who he swears at or whose ass he threatens to kick.
What I am apologizing for, is that the recording was ever made public in the first place. I am so sorry you all had to see such weakness on the part of # 7. He should never have allowed, under any circumstances, a recording like that to be released. Firstly, instead of threatening to kick the other individual's ass, he should simply have done it. Actions speak louder than words, and have a longer lasting effect.
This whole mess could have been very easily prevented. After kicking this person's ass, he should have taken the tape from them at that time and destroyed it. At the very least, # 7 should have acquired the tape after the fact. If the person in possesion of it refused to hand it over, then he should have immediately killed them, and quietly disposed of the body.
In summation, I am ashamed at # 7's disgusting public display of weakness. Be assured that # 7 will be disciplined, as this type of behavior will absolutely not be tolerated. It is clear that I have coddled him too much. I preferred not to beat him, but he has forced my hand. His cush days as a member of my man-harem are over.
It is time for him to become a part of my covert experiments for the perfect soldier. As part of these experiments, he will learn the value of action versus talk. I see a great potential for aggression in him. It seems all he needs is the proper training.
I will keep you posted on his progress.
I am ashamed to say that the behavior of # 7 came to light this morning after a recording of him was released to the public. I would like to be clear that I am not upset, nor am I apologizing for
# 7 because of what he said on the tape. I could care less who he swears at or whose ass he threatens to kick.
What I am apologizing for, is that the recording was ever made public in the first place. I am so sorry you all had to see such weakness on the part of # 7. He should never have allowed, under any circumstances, a recording like that to be released. Firstly, instead of threatening to kick the other individual's ass, he should simply have done it. Actions speak louder than words, and have a longer lasting effect.
This whole mess could have been very easily prevented. After kicking this person's ass, he should have taken the tape from them at that time and destroyed it. At the very least, # 7 should have acquired the tape after the fact. If the person in possesion of it refused to hand it over, then he should have immediately killed them, and quietly disposed of the body.
In summation, I am ashamed at # 7's disgusting public display of weakness. Be assured that # 7 will be disciplined, as this type of behavior will absolutely not be tolerated. It is clear that I have coddled him too much. I preferred not to beat him, but he has forced my hand. His cush days as a member of my man-harem are over.
It is time for him to become a part of my covert experiments for the perfect soldier. As part of these experiments, he will learn the value of action versus talk. I see a great potential for aggression in him. It seems all he needs is the proper training.
I will keep you posted on his progress.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
WE ARE LYCANS!!
Apologies to the members of my man-harem. You will be neglected for a little while. Perhaps I may even return to monogamy. I will keep you posted.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Dreamland, Part III
I had this dream awhile back (prior to the horror dream of my untimely demise) that was pretty funny. Hilarious, actually.
I dreamed that it was Superbowl Sunday. I dreamed that my boyfriend was Pakistani, and my adopted dad came over and was acting like a racist ass hole. My sister was there as well. My dad finally left, after I yelled at him about his intolerable behavior. After that, my boyfriend made me some kind of weird tea mixture that had curry in it. I drank it and felt better (I was not feeling well the day before).Then he left.
After I drank the weird tea, my sister put on her coat and was getting ready to leave as well. Before she left, she went to the refrigerator and pulled out a big fat sandwich with all kinds of meats and cheeses on it. She said "I made this for dad for the Superbowl, but I don't like the way he was treating your boyfriend. So I am giving his sandwich to your cat Mufasa."
She then placed the plate with the sandwich on the table and turned around to leave. Mufasa got up on the chair with his front feet on the table, and pulled a big piece of Swiss cheese off of the sandwich. Then, he noticed there was a bag of groceries across the table sitting on the other chair, with some sliced yellow cheese on top. So he got up on the table and walked over to the chair, and used his mouth to pull (with the Swiss cheese still hanging out of his mouth) a slice of yellow cheese out of the package. I laughed and said in a chiding tone, "Mufasa!"
That is when my cat looked at me and, in a voice slightly muffled by his mouthful of cheeses, said: "Hey! It's Game Day!"
Hilarious! I literally woke up laughing!
PS
No, I did not make this up. This was an actual dream that I had on 12/22/08
I dreamed that it was Superbowl Sunday. I dreamed that my boyfriend was Pakistani, and my adopted dad came over and was acting like a racist ass hole. My sister was there as well. My dad finally left, after I yelled at him about his intolerable behavior. After that, my boyfriend made me some kind of weird tea mixture that had curry in it. I drank it and felt better (I was not feeling well the day before).Then he left.
After I drank the weird tea, my sister put on her coat and was getting ready to leave as well. Before she left, she went to the refrigerator and pulled out a big fat sandwich with all kinds of meats and cheeses on it. She said "I made this for dad for the Superbowl, but I don't like the way he was treating your boyfriend. So I am giving his sandwich to your cat Mufasa."
She then placed the plate with the sandwich on the table and turned around to leave. Mufasa got up on the chair with his front feet on the table, and pulled a big piece of Swiss cheese off of the sandwich. Then, he noticed there was a bag of groceries across the table sitting on the other chair, with some sliced yellow cheese on top. So he got up on the table and walked over to the chair, and used his mouth to pull (with the Swiss cheese still hanging out of his mouth) a slice of yellow cheese out of the package. I laughed and said in a chiding tone, "Mufasa!"
That is when my cat looked at me and, in a voice slightly muffled by his mouthful of cheeses, said: "Hey! It's Game Day!"
Hilarious! I literally woke up laughing!
PS
No, I did not make this up. This was an actual dream that I had on 12/22/08
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Dreamland, Part II
I have been having really vivid, wacky dreams lately. Most of the time they are just strange, even funny, but they seldom scare me. That is, until last Friday.
I dreamed that I went to a fortune teller for a reading. He told me that in two or three years I was going to die. I was going to be kidnapped, raped, and tortured by a brown-haired man with a goatee, who, when he was finished raping and torturing me, was going to throw me down an abandoned mine shaft, where I would die. Needless to say, this reading frightened me. It also pissed me off, and I told the fortune teller to get bent.
Then I went to another fortune teller. This fortune teller confirmed what the first fortune teller told me. Even more frightened, but slightly less pissed off, I decided to go to a palmist (so ok this dream is not just scary it's weird and out of character too). The palmist told me that she couldn't be so specific as to confirm what the two fortune tellers had told me, but she could say that my life line ended abruptly about two or three years in the future. At this point I was very, very scared, and still a little pissed off.
So I went over to my friend Hilary's, and told her what the fortune tellers and palmist had told me. I told her that I did not want to be kidnapped, raped, tortured, and thrown down an abandoned mine shaft to die. Hilary calmly told me that I should not worry about it. That I should accept that it was my fate to be raped and murdered by this brown-haired man with a goatee, and that I had no one but myself to blame, as it wouldn't happen if I hadn't lost so much weight. Now at this point I am beyond pissed off. I am enraged. I said several unsavory phrases to Hilary, including many specifically about her mother.
I said "Fate? Fuck fate! I am NOT going to be raped and murdered by a brown haired man with a goatee! I'm buying a fucking gun!" So I went out and bought a shiny silver 9mm gun and put it in my purse. Then I went to the grocery store and as I was shopping a brown haired man with a goatee came up beside me and smiled a crazy smile and said 'HI!'. The next thing I knew I was lying on the ground at the bottom of a mine shaft and all of my bones were broken. Then I was looking down at myself from above.
Then I woke up. Thank god! That dream was scary as hell!
PS
If I turn up missing, be sure to check all the abandoned mines for my body. Also be on the look-out for a brown haired man with a goatee.
I dreamed that I went to a fortune teller for a reading. He told me that in two or three years I was going to die. I was going to be kidnapped, raped, and tortured by a brown-haired man with a goatee, who, when he was finished raping and torturing me, was going to throw me down an abandoned mine shaft, where I would die. Needless to say, this reading frightened me. It also pissed me off, and I told the fortune teller to get bent.
Then I went to another fortune teller. This fortune teller confirmed what the first fortune teller told me. Even more frightened, but slightly less pissed off, I decided to go to a palmist (so ok this dream is not just scary it's weird and out of character too). The palmist told me that she couldn't be so specific as to confirm what the two fortune tellers had told me, but she could say that my life line ended abruptly about two or three years in the future. At this point I was very, very scared, and still a little pissed off.
So I went over to my friend Hilary's, and told her what the fortune tellers and palmist had told me. I told her that I did not want to be kidnapped, raped, tortured, and thrown down an abandoned mine shaft to die. Hilary calmly told me that I should not worry about it. That I should accept that it was my fate to be raped and murdered by this brown-haired man with a goatee, and that I had no one but myself to blame, as it wouldn't happen if I hadn't lost so much weight. Now at this point I am beyond pissed off. I am enraged. I said several unsavory phrases to Hilary, including many specifically about her mother.
I said "Fate? Fuck fate! I am NOT going to be raped and murdered by a brown haired man with a goatee! I'm buying a fucking gun!" So I went out and bought a shiny silver 9mm gun and put it in my purse. Then I went to the grocery store and as I was shopping a brown haired man with a goatee came up beside me and smiled a crazy smile and said 'HI!'. The next thing I knew I was lying on the ground at the bottom of a mine shaft and all of my bones were broken. Then I was looking down at myself from above.
Then I woke up. Thank god! That dream was scary as hell!
PS
If I turn up missing, be sure to check all the abandoned mines for my body. Also be on the look-out for a brown haired man with a goatee.
Non-Profit Vs. Corporation
While the pay is not quite as good as the Corporation, I am going to side with the Non-Profit.
Not only are the benefits (as a whole) better than the Corporation (at least the specific one I have in mind at the moment), it's a wonderful feeling to know that you are working for an agency whose focus is not to pad the pockets of a greedy owner, but rather on service. Service to children, minorities, disabled folk, and refugees.
I can't believe I stayed in the other place for as long as I did. Taking this new job is the best decision I have made in a very long time. Knowing that I am contributing to the greater good makes taking less money totally worth it.
Not only are the benefits (as a whole) better than the Corporation (at least the specific one I have in mind at the moment), it's a wonderful feeling to know that you are working for an agency whose focus is not to pad the pockets of a greedy owner, but rather on service. Service to children, minorities, disabled folk, and refugees.
I can't believe I stayed in the other place for as long as I did. Taking this new job is the best decision I have made in a very long time. Knowing that I am contributing to the greater good makes taking less money totally worth it.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Dreamland
I wonder why I keep dreaming about Stephen Colbert? It's not like he's the epitome of manliness. Perhaps it is his sense of humor. His show is always good for a hearty guffaw. Still, it seems odd to me that I keep dreaming about him.
At least this time he didn't eat my pomegranates!
Though he did scold me for flirting with Dane Cook...
At least this time he didn't eat my pomegranates!
Though he did scold me for flirting with Dane Cook...
Monday, January 5, 2009
Seventy-Nine Days
Then, at long last, my teeth will be free!!
That orthodontist has better not be teasing me, and my teeth had better be perfect. For four years and untold sums of money, they had better be perfect!
That orthodontist has better not be teasing me, and my teeth had better be perfect. For four years and untold sums of money, they had better be perfect!
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