It's two days before Christmas, and it's around this time that I start getting schmoopy. What can I say, it gets to my soft mushy center.
It's been a really wild, emotional year. I got back a dear friend, had some one I thought was a friend turn their back and go, lost one I knew was a friend to Heaven, had another friendship evolve (and be tested) in the most surprising ways, and learned that my best friends just might know me better than I know myself. So this Christmas, I'm going to count the people in my life as my gifts......
Chloe, my gorgeous, smart, mature beyond her years daughter. Sure she's a pain in the ass to live with sometimes, but so am I. She's not afraid to call me on my shit, and hug me when I need it. She's my whole heart, my forever and always.
Kathy, who's lovely late husband Lu was right - she and I hit it off immediately and found a soul mate in each other. I lost her once because I listened to the wrong person. I thank Lu for bringing us back together. I thank Kathy for forgiving. I thank God for helping me be smarter because of it.
Dave and Brandon because they always listen to my girl brain and understand.
Marc, who is determined, kind, and patient enough to not let me blame myself, even when I'm hellbent on doing so. You continue to surprise me. Thank you, Cowboy, for valuing me and our friendship.
The three best friends anyone could ever ask for - Elaine, Dorothy, and Melinda. You are my laughter, my litmus test, my shoulders to cry and lean on, my sanity, my safe place to fall. You don't judge me (even when it'd be easy to), you give it to me straight (even when I don't want to hear it), and you see who I really am (especially when I can't). I'd be lost without you three gorgeous women.
I wish everyone a very Merry Christmas.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
The White Death
Ok really? It's just snow, people. It's not the end of days. You won't die milk, bread, and toilet paperless. Relax. There are systems in place to take care of this. And at least everyone knows some one with a 4WD vehicle (don't everyone call me, please). It's really more of a hassle than anything else. But last night, for just a little while, I looked at it differently...
Last night Kathy and I were taking a drinking tour of Ritchie Hwy (some of you were kept informed of this adventure in real time, lol), and the snow started at our second stop - some Christmas party at a friend of Steve's (accuratecontracting.com). As we made our way out of the friends house, heading to stop #3 (Crossroads Tavern), I took a moment to appreciate how lovely snow makes everything.....
Quiet, sparkly, and a bit magical. It added a different luminosity to the outdoor Christmas lights, and it was kinda fun to have the snow alight on my face as I jogged to the van. Snow at night is beautiful and romantic (even in Glen Burnie ;-) ).
Maybe there is a part of this beach girl that likes winter. Just for a moment.
Last night Kathy and I were taking a drinking tour of Ritchie Hwy (some of you were kept informed of this adventure in real time, lol), and the snow started at our second stop - some Christmas party at a friend of Steve's (accuratecontracting.com). As we made our way out of the friends house, heading to stop #3 (Crossroads Tavern), I took a moment to appreciate how lovely snow makes everything.....
Quiet, sparkly, and a bit magical. It added a different luminosity to the outdoor Christmas lights, and it was kinda fun to have the snow alight on my face as I jogged to the van. Snow at night is beautiful and romantic (even in Glen Burnie ;-) ).
Maybe there is a part of this beach girl that likes winter. Just for a moment.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Follow Ups
And now.... for some updates:
- Evil Company A is....... Advanced Concepts, Inc., located on Broken Land Pky in Columbia. DO NOT WORK FOR THEM!
- Lovely Company B is........ ManTech, the Hanover location. I'm two weeks in, and I heart them so far.
- I used Peapod this weekend. Groceries will be delivered between 4:30 and 9:30 Monday. This service is run by Giant, which is more expensive than my Food Lion. But 'tis the price I pay for not doing this dreaded task by hand. I did notice that I can't seem to get a rotisserie chicken from Peapod, which sucks. Love me some rotisserie chicken...
- In 42 degree weather today, the teenager was going to head out in a v-neck cami and a hoodie. Mental patients, I'm tellin' ya....
- Evil Company A is....... Advanced Concepts, Inc., located on Broken Land Pky in Columbia. DO NOT WORK FOR THEM!
- Lovely Company B is........ ManTech, the Hanover location. I'm two weeks in, and I heart them so far.
- I used Peapod this weekend. Groceries will be delivered between 4:30 and 9:30 Monday. This service is run by Giant, which is more expensive than my Food Lion. But 'tis the price I pay for not doing this dreaded task by hand. I did notice that I can't seem to get a rotisserie chicken from Peapod, which sucks. Love me some rotisserie chicken...
- In 42 degree weather today, the teenager was going to head out in a v-neck cami and a hoodie. Mental patients, I'm tellin' ya....
Friday, December 11, 2009
Magnetism
Ever been at a place in your life where you know that taking the smart, rational step is the right thing to do, but your heart and mind are otherwise occupied?
I'm there. It blows. It's like trying to pull away from a huge magnet. But I know it's time to try and focus on something else, at least for a while, since I can't control this magnet.
I do wonder..... what does it mean when taking the smart, rational step makes you sad? Makes you want the magnet more?
"Drove me thru the mountains
Thru the crystal-like clear water fountain
Drove me like a magnet
To the sea"
- "Crystal" by Stevie Nicks
I'm there. It blows. It's like trying to pull away from a huge magnet. But I know it's time to try and focus on something else, at least for a while, since I can't control this magnet.
I do wonder..... what does it mean when taking the smart, rational step makes you sad? Makes you want the magnet more?
"Drove me thru the mountains
Thru the crystal-like clear water fountain
Drove me like a magnet
To the sea"
- "Crystal" by Stevie Nicks
Monday, December 7, 2009
A Soft, Nougatty Center
In my adult life, in the relationships and dynamics I have been a part of, a common theme pops up. A stigma, if you will, about me that I think is largely incorrect. I think that it's a misinterpretation by those who either don't know me well, or don't care to know me well.
You see, I've sometimes been labeled bossy and mean.
Which I am not. And if you knew me, and knew me well, you'd know that I'm pretty self aware and don't have an issue calling myself on my own crap. While I am many things, I am not either of these and am really pretty tired of being accused of them.
To say one is bossy is to also infer that they wish to control everything and everyone around them. Not this chick. Really, it's enough for me to manage myself and my own little world. Wanting some control, wishing you could make people do what you want them to or what they should I think is perfectly normal and natural to a certain degree. To the level that bossy implies doesn't apply to me. I can no more control you and what you do than I can the orbit of the moon. So I don't try. It's as simple as that.
The trait that I have that I think comes off as bossy to some is the fact that most of the time I know what I want, when, and how I want it. And this typically comes to me from a combination of past experience and gut instinct. I'll generally not open my mouth unless I am certain, and when I am, I'm very matter-of-fact and absolute. Hence, bossy. Folks who flounder, or who want bad behavior enabled don't like this trait 'o mine, I've come to find. Too bad. Go in peace. I know what I'm doing (oops, I guess that's bossy, huh?). And if I don't, I'll ask.
To say that I am mean is also far, far off the mark. What I am is a very social, people loving smart ass that's loaded with sarcasm. Which I know can annoy some. I do try to reel it in when I'm sensing it's not appreciated or inappropriate. And sometime it's cranked on 11 when I'm nervous or uncomfortable. I also have a habit of not taking any shit or suffering fools, which also comes off as mean, even when I choose to not engage or be silent (which at this stage of life, is the path I generally choose).
So it seems I lose either way. But what, and whom, exactly do I lose?
I could be wrong, but I think experience and open eyes have shown me that the folks who have dismissed me, walked away from me, or just never "got" me maybe just aren't meant to be members of my tribe, my "framily".
My framily are a select few who have taken the time to see past the temptation dismiss me as a bitch, and have found some one quite different. When they reflect those parts of me back to me is when it's most surprising. It makes me say to myself "Wow, they see that?" We all desire to be truly seen by some one, and too often in my life I have not been, unfortunately by people who held very significant roles in my life. It's why I'm so grateful for those to stuck around to find out.
I have heard them say that I'm the person who would drop everything in the middle of the night to come to their aid, who provides them with the steel they need in uncomfortable situations, who hits the nail on the head when they're stuck for words or solutions. And while most of them have never (or rarely) seen me cry, they know that I'm far, far more sensitive and emotional than I will ever appear, typically feel hurt feelings and rejection as if my soul is sunburned, and have a heart the size of Texas just oozing with big love. They also know I tend to do my crying alone.
Which is why I posted this today. I did some crying alone, me and my sunburned soul.
You see, I've sometimes been labeled bossy and mean.
Which I am not. And if you knew me, and knew me well, you'd know that I'm pretty self aware and don't have an issue calling myself on my own crap. While I am many things, I am not either of these and am really pretty tired of being accused of them.
To say one is bossy is to also infer that they wish to control everything and everyone around them. Not this chick. Really, it's enough for me to manage myself and my own little world. Wanting some control, wishing you could make people do what you want them to or what they should I think is perfectly normal and natural to a certain degree. To the level that bossy implies doesn't apply to me. I can no more control you and what you do than I can the orbit of the moon. So I don't try. It's as simple as that.
The trait that I have that I think comes off as bossy to some is the fact that most of the time I know what I want, when, and how I want it. And this typically comes to me from a combination of past experience and gut instinct. I'll generally not open my mouth unless I am certain, and when I am, I'm very matter-of-fact and absolute. Hence, bossy. Folks who flounder, or who want bad behavior enabled don't like this trait 'o mine, I've come to find. Too bad. Go in peace. I know what I'm doing (oops, I guess that's bossy, huh?). And if I don't, I'll ask.
To say that I am mean is also far, far off the mark. What I am is a very social, people loving smart ass that's loaded with sarcasm. Which I know can annoy some. I do try to reel it in when I'm sensing it's not appreciated or inappropriate. And sometime it's cranked on 11 when I'm nervous or uncomfortable. I also have a habit of not taking any shit or suffering fools, which also comes off as mean, even when I choose to not engage or be silent (which at this stage of life, is the path I generally choose).
So it seems I lose either way. But what, and whom, exactly do I lose?
I could be wrong, but I think experience and open eyes have shown me that the folks who have dismissed me, walked away from me, or just never "got" me maybe just aren't meant to be members of my tribe, my "framily".
My framily are a select few who have taken the time to see past the temptation dismiss me as a bitch, and have found some one quite different. When they reflect those parts of me back to me is when it's most surprising. It makes me say to myself "Wow, they see that?" We all desire to be truly seen by some one, and too often in my life I have not been, unfortunately by people who held very significant roles in my life. It's why I'm so grateful for those to stuck around to find out.
I have heard them say that I'm the person who would drop everything in the middle of the night to come to their aid, who provides them with the steel they need in uncomfortable situations, who hits the nail on the head when they're stuck for words or solutions. And while most of them have never (or rarely) seen me cry, they know that I'm far, far more sensitive and emotional than I will ever appear, typically feel hurt feelings and rejection as if my soul is sunburned, and have a heart the size of Texas just oozing with big love. They also know I tend to do my crying alone.
Which is why I posted this today. I did some crying alone, me and my sunburned soul.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Food Lion, You Ain't No Columbia Mall
Two of my very best girlfriends, Elaine and Dorothy, are working wives and mothers. Both are also highly organized. Now, I myself am also pretty dang organized, but these two could make folks with OCD/anal-retentive issues go "Wow, I never thought of doing it that way!" And I mean that in the best way - they really do have it going on, managing careers and households, nurturing kids, marriages, social lives, all with brilliance, effectiveness, and love.
One thing that both of them employ is a weekly dinner menu, and a few months ago they began encouraging me to do the same. You see, while I love to eat and enjoy all different kinds of food, I'm highly cooking-adverse. As far as domestic skills go, I clean great, decorate like a pro, can organize any drawer or closet, have the bills on a perfect schedule, can do all the laundry in a day, but cooking has never interested me. When I do cook though, I have to say that I'm pretty good at it. I just don't like it.
Anywho, E and D said it really took the pain-in-the-ass factor out of what to cook for dinner every night. And if you were in my shoes, being asked every single day by a constantly starving teenager "What are we doing for dinner?", you'd try anything to eliminate that.
So trusting my smart BFFs, and looking for some kind of solution, I decided to try it.
I drew up a Mon-Fri menu and posted it on the fridge. Almost immediately The Teenager balked. I heard things like "I don't want to use a menu, it's stupid" and "Um, I don't like (fill in the blank with something that makes zero sense) so I'm not eating that." It's times like this that remind me that she's related to her father, and why I divorced him.
But I digress.... I chose to ignore The Teenagers complaints (because they were dumb) and forged ahead with the menu plan. I made a list of all the things I'd need for each dinner, and bought them. Things started off well. It was quite nice not to give any thought to dinner, which is one less thing to clutter the already overtaxed mind of a single working mom. This plan also spawned my first attempt ever at cooking a roast in a crock pot (that is a whole other blog - don't judge me), which was quite tasty. I also got to have "brinner" (breakfast food for dinner) one night. A real treat, since I typically only get to enjoy this meal at the Double T or Honeybee diners at 2:00am (again, don't judge me).
However, the one fatal flaw in this plan that my BFF's and I overlooked is: I. Loathe. Grocery. Shopping.
Hmmm, how can I make you appreciate the level of hate I have for grocery shopping....?? I would rather go to the dentist every week for 6 months than grocery shop. I'd rather have a daily pap smear than grocery shop. I'd rather take your kids to Chuck E. Cheese than grocery shop. Are ya feelin' me yet?
Let's examine grocery stores themselves. They are always cold. Something is always spilled somewhere. The florescent lighting buzzing overhead is the most painful, annoying, and unflattering known to the human race. The music they pipe in makes me want to slit my wrists, and the decor/atmosphere is less than uninspiring.
The actual process of grocery shopping annoys me to PMDD levels (Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder, for my dude audience). You have to be ever careful and aware of how and where you put things in the cart, how and in what order you put them on the belt, what gets bagged with what, how the bags get put back into the cart, how the bags get loaded into your vehicle, blah, blah, blah, blah! I swear, they really should sell liquor in all grocery stores. At least I could numb the pain and not think about all the time I'm wasting in this godforsaken hell hole.
I suppose what I'm doing is comparing this shopping experience to the mall shopping experience. And maybe that isn't fair, but neither is life. At the mall, in my favorite stores I am surrounded by beautiful things, cool music, trendy/sexy/relaxing decor (depending on the store I'm in), and lovely scents. And I never have to bag my own items. Nor do I have to be careful of how the bags are placed in my vehicle. Never once did I crack a pair of leopard print heels by tossing a fabulous new purse on top of them.
Grocery shopping and I will never be a good fit. And I realize it's a necessary evil, but it's one I will likely go to lengths to avoid until the day I die.
Now if you'll excuse me, my subs and pizza were just delivered.
One thing that both of them employ is a weekly dinner menu, and a few months ago they began encouraging me to do the same. You see, while I love to eat and enjoy all different kinds of food, I'm highly cooking-adverse. As far as domestic skills go, I clean great, decorate like a pro, can organize any drawer or closet, have the bills on a perfect schedule, can do all the laundry in a day, but cooking has never interested me. When I do cook though, I have to say that I'm pretty good at it. I just don't like it.
Anywho, E and D said it really took the pain-in-the-ass factor out of what to cook for dinner every night. And if you were in my shoes, being asked every single day by a constantly starving teenager "What are we doing for dinner?", you'd try anything to eliminate that.
So trusting my smart BFFs, and looking for some kind of solution, I decided to try it.
I drew up a Mon-Fri menu and posted it on the fridge. Almost immediately The Teenager balked. I heard things like "I don't want to use a menu, it's stupid" and "Um, I don't like (fill in the blank with something that makes zero sense) so I'm not eating that." It's times like this that remind me that she's related to her father, and why I divorced him.
But I digress.... I chose to ignore The Teenagers complaints (because they were dumb) and forged ahead with the menu plan. I made a list of all the things I'd need for each dinner, and bought them. Things started off well. It was quite nice not to give any thought to dinner, which is one less thing to clutter the already overtaxed mind of a single working mom. This plan also spawned my first attempt ever at cooking a roast in a crock pot (that is a whole other blog - don't judge me), which was quite tasty. I also got to have "brinner" (breakfast food for dinner) one night. A real treat, since I typically only get to enjoy this meal at the Double T or Honeybee diners at 2:00am (again, don't judge me).
However, the one fatal flaw in this plan that my BFF's and I overlooked is: I. Loathe. Grocery. Shopping.
Hmmm, how can I make you appreciate the level of hate I have for grocery shopping....?? I would rather go to the dentist every week for 6 months than grocery shop. I'd rather have a daily pap smear than grocery shop. I'd rather take your kids to Chuck E. Cheese than grocery shop. Are ya feelin' me yet?
Let's examine grocery stores themselves. They are always cold. Something is always spilled somewhere. The florescent lighting buzzing overhead is the most painful, annoying, and unflattering known to the human race. The music they pipe in makes me want to slit my wrists, and the decor/atmosphere is less than uninspiring.
The actual process of grocery shopping annoys me to PMDD levels (Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder, for my dude audience). You have to be ever careful and aware of how and where you put things in the cart, how and in what order you put them on the belt, what gets bagged with what, how the bags get put back into the cart, how the bags get loaded into your vehicle, blah, blah, blah, blah! I swear, they really should sell liquor in all grocery stores. At least I could numb the pain and not think about all the time I'm wasting in this godforsaken hell hole.
I suppose what I'm doing is comparing this shopping experience to the mall shopping experience. And maybe that isn't fair, but neither is life. At the mall, in my favorite stores I am surrounded by beautiful things, cool music, trendy/sexy/relaxing decor (depending on the store I'm in), and lovely scents. And I never have to bag my own items. Nor do I have to be careful of how the bags are placed in my vehicle. Never once did I crack a pair of leopard print heels by tossing a fabulous new purse on top of them.
Grocery shopping and I will never be a good fit. And I realize it's a necessary evil, but it's one I will likely go to lengths to avoid until the day I die.
Now if you'll excuse me, my subs and pizza were just delivered.
Monday, November 30, 2009
The Epitome of Weirdness
Let me just get this out of the way first:
I love WalMart.
I do. It's my "go to" store for just about everything from bottled water to telephones; mascara to rain ponchos; laundry detergent to TV's. It can be akin to a kind of therapy for me sometimes. Lots and lots of aisles to get lost in, various goods and sundries to contemplate. And we all know we'd be hard pressed to beat their prices.
The only issues I have with WalMart is..... the other people that shop there. And maybe? Most of the employees.
Never, ever once have I been in WalMart where I haven't encountered the following:
- some one still sporting a mullet
- a dirty, screaming child
- adults with missing teeth
- some one paying with a just-cashed settlement/Welfare/unemployment check
- the morbidly obese
- the fatally stupid
- various assortments of what can only be described as mouth breathers and window lickers
And I've been in lots of WalMart's and Super WalMart's here in MD, PA, and FL - trust me, it's all the same.
Now, of course I realize that we're all God's creatures and yadda yadda yadda, but ok really? Look in a mirror, people. Discipline (and bathe) your kid(s). Visit a salon. Put down the chili cheese dog. Read a book. These are not hard tasks, nor foreign concepts. I manage to do them, as do all the people in my life. And we're not a bunch of rocket scientists or brain surgeons.
Look, all I'm sayin' is that when there is a website dedicated to the weirdness that WalMart attracts, clearly I'm not the only one who is noticing:
http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/
You don't see this shit at Target. I'm just sayin'.
Here's what I'd like to see - "T" shopping hours at WalMart. No one else, just me. And one employee working the floor, who I will hand pick. And one cashier, who I will also hand pick. That would be heaven on earth for me. And if I can't have that, I'd like to see some dental plans put to work, some pants pulled up to their proper location (i.e. above the ass crack, and/or Lady Business), and people not blocking the snack/chip aisle who really shouldn't be in that aisle to begin with. Because I'm telling you, the next kid I see acting like a poo flinging monkey up in my WalMart, will be sorry.
Film at 11:00.
I love WalMart.
I do. It's my "go to" store for just about everything from bottled water to telephones; mascara to rain ponchos; laundry detergent to TV's. It can be akin to a kind of therapy for me sometimes. Lots and lots of aisles to get lost in, various goods and sundries to contemplate. And we all know we'd be hard pressed to beat their prices.
The only issues I have with WalMart is..... the other people that shop there. And maybe? Most of the employees.
Never, ever once have I been in WalMart where I haven't encountered the following:
- some one still sporting a mullet
- a dirty, screaming child
- adults with missing teeth
- some one paying with a just-cashed settlement/Welfare/unemployment check
- the morbidly obese
- the fatally stupid
- various assortments of what can only be described as mouth breathers and window lickers
And I've been in lots of WalMart's and Super WalMart's here in MD, PA, and FL - trust me, it's all the same.
Now, of course I realize that we're all God's creatures and yadda yadda yadda, but ok really? Look in a mirror, people. Discipline (and bathe) your kid(s). Visit a salon. Put down the chili cheese dog. Read a book. These are not hard tasks, nor foreign concepts. I manage to do them, as do all the people in my life. And we're not a bunch of rocket scientists or brain surgeons.
Look, all I'm sayin' is that when there is a website dedicated to the weirdness that WalMart attracts, clearly I'm not the only one who is noticing:
http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/
You don't see this shit at Target. I'm just sayin'.
Here's what I'd like to see - "T" shopping hours at WalMart. No one else, just me. And one employee working the floor, who I will hand pick. And one cashier, who I will also hand pick. That would be heaven on earth for me. And if I can't have that, I'd like to see some dental plans put to work, some pants pulled up to their proper location (i.e. above the ass crack, and/or Lady Business), and people not blocking the snack/chip aisle who really shouldn't be in that aisle to begin with. Because I'm telling you, the next kid I see acting like a poo flinging monkey up in my WalMart, will be sorry.
Film at 11:00.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Giving Thanks
Yesterday was Thanksgiving, which also signals the beginning of the holiday season. And while I've always loved them all and enjoy them, each year of my adult life there is a moment where I feel some sadness.
Merriam-Webster defines "family" as such:
1 : a group of individuals living under one roof and usually under one head : household
2 a : a group of persons of common ancestry : clan b : a people or group of peoples regarded as deriving from a common stock : race
3 a : a group of people united by certain convictions or a common affiliation : fellowship b : the staff of a high official (as the President)
4 : a group of things related by common characteristics:
I'm one of these unusual people who don't have any family, other than my daughter, as defined by definition 2. And that's quite literally true. I don't have parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins. Nor do I have in-laws (which, ok really, maybe I shouldn't complain about).
But after a particularly tumultuous 2009 for me and my closest peeps, where lines in the sand were drawn, and some left us for paradise too soon, yesterday I was shown that family is more than just having genes in common. For me, it's more akin to definition 2b, 3, and 4. You see, all day long I was reminded from all directions that I'm thought of, loved, and cared for by people that don't have my hazel eyes or weirdly small feet.
In the morning, I was txted by my 3 closest girlfriends who told me that they love me and are thankful that I'm in their life (I also heard from quite a few others, just reaching out to say Happy Thanksgiving). That afternoon, my daughter and I were included (along with some of my best friends) in a delicious and damn good time of a Thanksgiving dinner by some new friends I'd only met 3 times before. High school and childhood friends, both local and far away, posted love and warm wishes to my Facebook page. I was woken up in the middle of the night by a txt message from another good friend, excited to share with me that his favorite college football team won (again, lol).
And while I do continue to miss my mom and sometimes wish for a room full of cousins, there are other ways to define and create your tribe. Take it from me - It's not blood lines or legal documents that make a family. It's love. Plain and simple. And I have an abundance of it.
Merriam-Webster defines "family" as such:
1 : a group of individuals living under one roof and usually under one head : household
2 a : a group of persons of common ancestry : clan b : a people or group of peoples regarded as deriving from a common stock : race
3 a : a group of people united by certain convictions or a common affiliation : fellowship b : the staff of a high official (as the President)
4 : a group of things related by common characteristics:
I'm one of these unusual people who don't have any family, other than my daughter, as defined by definition 2. And that's quite literally true. I don't have parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins. Nor do I have in-laws (which, ok really, maybe I shouldn't complain about).
But after a particularly tumultuous 2009 for me and my closest peeps, where lines in the sand were drawn, and some left us for paradise too soon, yesterday I was shown that family is more than just having genes in common. For me, it's more akin to definition 2b, 3, and 4. You see, all day long I was reminded from all directions that I'm thought of, loved, and cared for by people that don't have my hazel eyes or weirdly small feet.
In the morning, I was txted by my 3 closest girlfriends who told me that they love me and are thankful that I'm in their life (I also heard from quite a few others, just reaching out to say Happy Thanksgiving). That afternoon, my daughter and I were included (along with some of my best friends) in a delicious and damn good time of a Thanksgiving dinner by some new friends I'd only met 3 times before. High school and childhood friends, both local and far away, posted love and warm wishes to my Facebook page. I was woken up in the middle of the night by a txt message from another good friend, excited to share with me that his favorite college football team won (again, lol).
And while I do continue to miss my mom and sometimes wish for a room full of cousins, there are other ways to define and create your tribe. Take it from me - It's not blood lines or legal documents that make a family. It's love. Plain and simple. And I have an abundance of it.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Oh No She DIDN'T
My kid has a step-grandma in Pennsylvania, whom she visited this past weekend. Step-grandma sent my kid home with all kinds of junk food, homemade baked goods, etc. Nice lady, she is.
Or so I thought. Until I saw this:

Sure, like me, at first you're probably thinking "Oo yum - Lays chips", but look at what's defacing the front of this bag:
The damn Steelers logo!
And ok really, is the little peppy "Go Steelers Go!" crap really necessary? Well, maybe in fairness, that's all Steelers fans can spell.
What fresh hell is this that the logo of the most vile team in the AFC has not only made it into this good and loving Ravens home, but has marred the packaging of a beloved snack food!?!?! Christ on a bike, I almost broke out into a rash. I almost didn't eat any. (almost)
Or so I thought. Until I saw this:

Sure, like me, at first you're probably thinking "Oo yum - Lays chips", but look at what's defacing the front of this bag:
The damn Steelers logo!
And ok really, is the little peppy "Go Steelers Go!" crap really necessary? Well, maybe in fairness, that's all Steelers fans can spell.
What fresh hell is this that the logo of the most vile team in the AFC has not only made it into this good and loving Ravens home, but has marred the packaging of a beloved snack food!?!?! Christ on a bike, I almost broke out into a rash. I almost didn't eat any. (almost)
The Big Company Rip Off, Part 3
After much internal debate, speaking to friends, and speaking to my financial management group, it has been decided that the whole amount Evil Company A is bullying me to pay them will be pulled from one of my portfolio thingies, deposited into my bank account, then my bank will issue a cashiers check to Evil Company A.
Which I will drop off. In person. Just so I can tell them to fuck off.
I will then turn over the $3K from Lovely Company B to said portfolio thingie. Which will help ease my loss. Emotionally, anyway.
During all this drama, two good pals suggested that I hire a lawyer and fight it. This does make sense, and I did seriously consider it. However, having gone down the lawyer road before, I felt that it would cost me more money (and aggravation) to wage a legal battle than the whole dollar amount in question. And much like divorcing a toxic spouse, I just want to cut ties with Evil Company A and get on with my life with my new boyfriend - Lovely Company B.
But...... what I WILL do is, once my last pay check from them is deposited, reveal the company name. Here, there, and everywhere I can.
MUHAHAHAHAHA!
Which I will drop off. In person. Just so I can tell them to fuck off.
I will then turn over the $3K from Lovely Company B to said portfolio thingie. Which will help ease my loss. Emotionally, anyway.
During all this drama, two good pals suggested that I hire a lawyer and fight it. This does make sense, and I did seriously consider it. However, having gone down the lawyer road before, I felt that it would cost me more money (and aggravation) to wage a legal battle than the whole dollar amount in question. And much like divorcing a toxic spouse, I just want to cut ties with Evil Company A and get on with my life with my new boyfriend - Lovely Company B.
But...... what I WILL do is, once my last pay check from them is deposited, reveal the company name. Here, there, and everywhere I can.
MUHAHAHAHAHA!
Monday, November 23, 2009
The Big Company Rip Off, Part2
AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
First, let me recap..... As you all know, since I'm resigning from Evil Company A less than one year after I took two Red Hat Linux classes, they want me to pay them back for the classes AND the 2 weeks of time I was told to charge to a Training & Education code. They have paperwork signed by me indicating I agreed to the former, but nothing to the latter. Lovely Company B, for whom I'll be working for on November 30th, will be picking up the tab for the cost of the classes.
I went to Evil Company A this afternoon for my out-briefing. Basically they wanted to know why I'm leaving (because you suck), and how they could improve (try not to suck). Last item on the agenda was the pile of money I'm told I owe. Whose combined total is over $6K. Just so you know.
I told the perfectly nice HR girl that Lovely Company B will be covering the cost of the courses I took ($3K), but that no one at Evil Company A could seem to find any signed paperwork where I agreed to pay back the time I charged to the Training & Education code should I resign in less than a year. She seemed to ignore this important paperwork fact, and explained that this is due upon the last day of employment. To which I countered that if I had $6K+ lying around this probably wouldn't be an issue, but I don't, so it is. I also added that if I'm going to be forced to pay this money, some sort of option for payments will have to be worked out.
Poor girl, she's new. This all seemed to get her panties in a wedge. She went looking for my Program Manager.
She was gone a while.
She came back alone, having spoken with the Training and Education Coordinator (the chick I've been arguing with in email; notice that she's in the building but won't come meet with me). She has been sent back with this lovely tid bit of information:
Signed paperwork or not, if the money isn't repaid by the time checks are mailed/direct deposited next Thursday, Evil Company A is going to hold my last paycheck.
THEY'RE GOING TO HOLD MY PAYCHECK!!!???
WTF?!?!?!
Ok really, if I don't have $6K to give them, what makes them think I can spare a whole fucking paycheck?!?!?
I start to flip out a little bit, tell nice HR girl that this is unacceptable, and off she goes again in search of some one, anyone.
She returns again after another longer than usual while, this time with another representative from Training and Education. This one tells me that they have to use leverage such as holding the last paycheck because they've been burned in the past by ex-employees agreeing to repay what they owe in payments, then they don't.
Aw, poor Evil Company A. Sorry, I don't give a fuck.
She also that if the money isn't repaid, they will file a 1099 tax form making me responsible for the taxes on the total amount.
I think that's supposed to scare me, and maybe it should because I'm a math 'tard, but really, how much could that be?
Oh, and they want Lovely Company B to pay them the $3K directly. Seriously, where the hell is the trust?? Lovely Company B has already told me it'll be a part of my second paycheck, which I relay to this T&E rep. Nope, not good enough, because (as stated above), they've been burned by others in the past.
Sounds like they need counseling, and maybe a spa weekend, not my cash.
I leave, agreeing to nothing but to be in touch.
After having a few hours to think (and simmer down), I'm going to place a call/email to my financial management group. Seems to me it would cost me less to let them keep my last paycheck, then in turn take the amount of that last paycheck out of one of my portfolio thingies AND pay the taxes on the $6K+, than it would be to pull the whole $6K+ out of my portfolio thingies and give it to this fucking piece of shit company.
Once again, stay tuned......
First, let me recap..... As you all know, since I'm resigning from Evil Company A less than one year after I took two Red Hat Linux classes, they want me to pay them back for the classes AND the 2 weeks of time I was told to charge to a Training & Education code. They have paperwork signed by me indicating I agreed to the former, but nothing to the latter. Lovely Company B, for whom I'll be working for on November 30th, will be picking up the tab for the cost of the classes.
I went to Evil Company A this afternoon for my out-briefing. Basically they wanted to know why I'm leaving (because you suck), and how they could improve (try not to suck). Last item on the agenda was the pile of money I'm told I owe. Whose combined total is over $6K. Just so you know.
I told the perfectly nice HR girl that Lovely Company B will be covering the cost of the courses I took ($3K), but that no one at Evil Company A could seem to find any signed paperwork where I agreed to pay back the time I charged to the Training & Education code should I resign in less than a year. She seemed to ignore this important paperwork fact, and explained that this is due upon the last day of employment. To which I countered that if I had $6K+ lying around this probably wouldn't be an issue, but I don't, so it is. I also added that if I'm going to be forced to pay this money, some sort of option for payments will have to be worked out.
Poor girl, she's new. This all seemed to get her panties in a wedge. She went looking for my Program Manager.
She was gone a while.
She came back alone, having spoken with the Training and Education Coordinator (the chick I've been arguing with in email; notice that she's in the building but won't come meet with me). She has been sent back with this lovely tid bit of information:
Signed paperwork or not, if the money isn't repaid by the time checks are mailed/direct deposited next Thursday, Evil Company A is going to hold my last paycheck.
THEY'RE GOING TO HOLD MY PAYCHECK!!!???
WTF?!?!?!
Ok really, if I don't have $6K to give them, what makes them think I can spare a whole fucking paycheck?!?!?
I start to flip out a little bit, tell nice HR girl that this is unacceptable, and off she goes again in search of some one, anyone.
She returns again after another longer than usual while, this time with another representative from Training and Education. This one tells me that they have to use leverage such as holding the last paycheck because they've been burned in the past by ex-employees agreeing to repay what they owe in payments, then they don't.
Aw, poor Evil Company A. Sorry, I don't give a fuck.
She also that if the money isn't repaid, they will file a 1099 tax form making me responsible for the taxes on the total amount.
I think that's supposed to scare me, and maybe it should because I'm a math 'tard, but really, how much could that be?
Oh, and they want Lovely Company B to pay them the $3K directly. Seriously, where the hell is the trust?? Lovely Company B has already told me it'll be a part of my second paycheck, which I relay to this T&E rep. Nope, not good enough, because (as stated above), they've been burned by others in the past.
Sounds like they need counseling, and maybe a spa weekend, not my cash.
I leave, agreeing to nothing but to be in touch.
After having a few hours to think (and simmer down), I'm going to place a call/email to my financial management group. Seems to me it would cost me less to let them keep my last paycheck, then in turn take the amount of that last paycheck out of one of my portfolio thingies AND pay the taxes on the $6K+, than it would be to pull the whole $6K+ out of my portfolio thingies and give it to this fucking piece of shit company.
Once again, stay tuned......
Saturday, November 21, 2009
I KNEW It!!
I have been living with a mental patient.
Which, really, I knew already, but it's nice to be validated. By science, no less.
You see, I recently heard that it seems that not only do our brains "grow" again in adolescence, but they're not even fully developed until we're around 25.
This? Explains a lot. My fellow parents of teenagers and young adults out there are nodding knowingly right about now. Ah, we are one, my friends. I feel your pain.
This? Might be a good argument for me not paying for college. I mean because, ok really - Why would I pay loads of money for a crazy person to be educated? Seems counter intuitive to me. I'm just sayin'.
As I think on all of this, it seems to me that logic would dictate that all this new/bigger gray matter would be ripe for all kids of good and useful things, but I personally think they stuff with useless crap, much like the stacks of clothes, shoes, and accessories in the corners and floors of their bedrooms (which I like to call Look At All The Piles Of Mommy's Money).
But it does make sense to me now why they do things like:
- Refuse to wear coats/jackets when it's cold, but will walk right out the door in 95 degree weather with a black hoodie on.
- The sudden deafness they experience as you speak, standing right in front of them, but they can hear their cell phone vibrate 2 floors away.
- Resist putting anything they own back in the same place consistently, then have a frickin' fit when they can't find it (refer to Look At All The Piles Of Mommy's Money above).
My teenager was once a lovey, huggy, kissy, wanted-to-be-with-me-all-the-time little girl, but around 12 it all started to change. I see glimpses of that kid from time to time, like when I get an out of the blue "Hi Mommy!", when she coos when I scratch her back, or when she allows me to kiss her, lol. She's still in there.
So I say to you, parents of little ones - be greedy with all their unabashed displays of physical affection, and imprint on your brains how their face lights up when they see you. Because there will come a time when it will change, and in their place will be a surly teen, walking out the door in August in a black hoodie.
But I'm hopeful because it sounds like this mental illness is only temporary. Long, aggravating, exhausting, but temporary. In the meantime, this Mommy has plenty of pictures and memories of that little girl to look back on. And wine. Lots of wine. ;-)
Which, really, I knew already, but it's nice to be validated. By science, no less.
You see, I recently heard that it seems that not only do our brains "grow" again in adolescence, but they're not even fully developed until we're around 25.
This? Explains a lot. My fellow parents of teenagers and young adults out there are nodding knowingly right about now. Ah, we are one, my friends. I feel your pain.
This? Might be a good argument for me not paying for college. I mean because, ok really - Why would I pay loads of money for a crazy person to be educated? Seems counter intuitive to me. I'm just sayin'.
As I think on all of this, it seems to me that logic would dictate that all this new/bigger gray matter would be ripe for all kids of good and useful things, but I personally think they stuff with useless crap, much like the stacks of clothes, shoes, and accessories in the corners and floors of their bedrooms (which I like to call Look At All The Piles Of Mommy's Money).
But it does make sense to me now why they do things like:
- Refuse to wear coats/jackets when it's cold, but will walk right out the door in 95 degree weather with a black hoodie on.
- The sudden deafness they experience as you speak, standing right in front of them, but they can hear their cell phone vibrate 2 floors away.
- Resist putting anything they own back in the same place consistently, then have a frickin' fit when they can't find it (refer to Look At All The Piles Of Mommy's Money above).
My teenager was once a lovey, huggy, kissy, wanted-to-be-with-me-all-the-time little girl, but around 12 it all started to change. I see glimpses of that kid from time to time, like when I get an out of the blue "Hi Mommy!", when she coos when I scratch her back, or when she allows me to kiss her, lol. She's still in there.
So I say to you, parents of little ones - be greedy with all their unabashed displays of physical affection, and imprint on your brains how their face lights up when they see you. Because there will come a time when it will change, and in their place will be a surly teen, walking out the door in August in a black hoodie.
But I'm hopeful because it sounds like this mental illness is only temporary. Long, aggravating, exhausting, but temporary. In the meantime, this Mommy has plenty of pictures and memories of that little girl to look back on. And wine. Lots of wine. ;-)
Thursday, November 19, 2009
The Big Company Rip Off
Working for The Man blows sometimes... and sometimes working for The Man's contractors really blows, especially when they try to rip you off as you're trying to move on to better opportunites. What do I mean? Well, let me tell you....
I've given Company A my two weeks notice, last day is next Wednesday. They don't hesitate to remind me that I will owe them $3k upon my resignation for two training courses I took in January. See, I (probably stupidly) signed an agreement that states that I will pay them back the cost of the courses if I quit within one year. Fine, no problem - Company B already knows this and will be covering the costs (yes, I heart Company B).
But lo! Today evil Company A tells me that I will also owe them for the time. That's right, I will owe them my 2 weeks of pay that they paid me, via an existing valid charge code. Ooooohhhhh bullshit! Bullshit, I say! So I began investigating this with evil Company A's training coordinator..... and? Turns out, they don't have a record of me signing those forms. And I sure reminded them that I do have a record of my manager approving my timesheet, under that charge code, for those two weeks!
Ok, really.... seems to me that if there's no form signed by me agreeing to this, and my manager long ago approved my timesheet for those two weeks, I'm not obligated to pay Company A that moola.
This saga will continue.....
I've given Company A my two weeks notice, last day is next Wednesday. They don't hesitate to remind me that I will owe them $3k upon my resignation for two training courses I took in January. See, I (probably stupidly) signed an agreement that states that I will pay them back the cost of the courses if I quit within one year. Fine, no problem - Company B already knows this and will be covering the costs (yes, I heart Company B).
But lo! Today evil Company A tells me that I will also owe them for the time. That's right, I will owe them my 2 weeks of pay that they paid me, via an existing valid charge code. Ooooohhhhh bullshit! Bullshit, I say! So I began investigating this with evil Company A's training coordinator..... and? Turns out, they don't have a record of me signing those forms. And I sure reminded them that I do have a record of my manager approving my timesheet, under that charge code, for those two weeks!
Ok, really.... seems to me that if there's no form signed by me agreeing to this, and my manager long ago approved my timesheet for those two weeks, I'm not obligated to pay Company A that moola.
This saga will continue.....
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)