Update

Well I applied for an Executive Assistant position within ABC Nuts & Bolts. I have no hope of getting this position, I think, but it never hurts to try.

Two people I know who are wonderful employees were already turned down for one reason or another. One of them was turned down because she is perceived to be unable to keep confidences. I think this is weird - she was offered the position of personal assistant to the former owners of the company. That requires a whole lotta confidentiality.

The other -- I know not why. But, typically, they really want their executive assistants to not be people who gossip or even have close office friendships. Loose lips sink ships and all that, I think.

And here I am, with my blog. My blog is kept anonymous though, I don't think much really sensitive information goes in here. Though I am exposed to some sensitive information, I treat it that way.

Well, anyway, I did buy some new office clothes so I will look more professional. Currently, the only way in which I stand out around here is my ragamuffin wardrobe, which pushes the casual envelope, and my computer knowledge, which is better than most of the people I support. But that's about it.

Though this job is atrophying my brain, I am loathe to leave it. What if I can't find something better? I did see an Office Manager position with a .com company. Which now sounds like a bad idea, considering it is a .com company. Still, that does sound better than eternal administrative assistant.

I think I will text-ify my resume tonight and see what I come up with. Still, a little company like that is bound to have worse benefits than this one. Now, I haven't jobhunted for about four years, and my understanding from my supervisor, whom I can trust to be honest, is that benefits across the board are worse than they were when I first started working here. That seems logical.

But I just really need to do *something*. It's not that I don't like my job. It is that it's not very challenging anymore. However, M2 says she might have me build a database for her that'll handle her College World Series stuff. That'll be a blast. :o)

Well this is rambling. I know the outcome is supposed to be in God's hands, right? I should try harder to leave it there, where it belongs.

Scientist Suggests Pollution May Help Cool Planet

I think this article is fascinating. A scientist is saying that we should shoot pollutants into the stratosphere in order to help cool the Earth, much like Mt. Pinatubo did not long ago. Read the article for more details, but....

...watch Highlander 2 or 3. I can't remember which one it was, but in the movie, the Highlander was a scientist and he had helped design a 'shield' of haze to help protect the Earth because of global warming! How ironic!

Mr. Spice

I don't think I've written about this guy before. I never had much business with him when he was in this department, and virtually nothing since he was moved out of this department. Probably the most memorable thing about him was that he was perpetually in a bad mood. When I was new here, I did a client visit for him in a different building, and he complained to my supervisor because I had forgotten to put out coasters. Coasters! Well, today was a reminder that everyone gets their just desserts.

I saw him in the lunchroom today and I was reminded how much things can really suck for people not working in the sales department.

 
Hey there, how's it going?

Fine, how are you S?

Oh good. So are you happy now that you're out of sales? I thought the answer would be yes.

Let's see. I work twice as hard and get paid half as much, and I have to worry about getting fired every f*ckin day. Yes, I like it.

Oh dear. I think people not in sales don't get paid quite as much. A friend of mine is leaving the company over it - she supports about 300 people, supervises two employees, and they won't give her a raise. She also gets paid less than I do. Much less. There are some drawbacks to working in the Sales department, but salary is not one of them.

OJ Simpson is Stupid

OR  perhaps just incredibly insensitive. I'll vote for both.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20061115/ap_en_mo/simpson_interview_14
He is going to discuss, hypothetically, how he would have done it, if he'd done it, but he claims that he didn't do it.

Is the man broke? Is that why he would stoop so low? For God's sake, he's got two children with one of the victims in question…how could he possibly write such a book or especially have an unrestricted interview on this topic?

This smells like a man who's incredibly satisfied that he got away with murder and is just itching to tell the world about it so he can be admired for it.

He looks guiltier than ever.

Job Woes, Goals, and Zaftigiousness

Nah, don't worry, my job is fine. I am just steeply unmotivated today.

So unmotivated that I had to go home and take a nap during lunch. I'm doing much better now but I have p*ssed away most of the day. Which, strangely enough, I do regret and feel guilty over. Ugh. D*mn conscience is growing or somethin.

ANYWAY, I was inspired by the departure of a colleague of mine to look at the job ads. So I took a gander.

And couldn't find anything in my field that I was remotely interested in. Really.

And my primary reason why? Because I have become a horridly slothful employee! Well, at least for today. On some other days, I am wildly industrious and can get many, many things done.

I just have no passion for being a secretary, a lackey, anymore. I'm not really very interested in helping people, and I want to think more. This has grown way too easy. Every time I look in the job ads for something new, I find things that I could easily do but have no motivation to hop from one frying pan to another.

Goals
I guess I'm going to have to get some kind of education. I can't do this forever. Thank heavens my sponsor gave me a goals assignment. I have to come up with my one year goals and five year goals. I want to do the assignment but I also do NOT want to do it lol. I think she's worried that I'm going to get bored and then go get a boyfriend to fill in the gaps. She needn't worry. I feel too fat to find a desireable boyfriend.

Zaftiguousness
Guys that like fat chicks seem primarily interested in one thing and it shall remain nameless while I type this on my office computer. They're just as bad as shallow hounds trolling around clubs looking for a stick thin blonde. The reason they like more zaftig women? Maybe I'm just overly negative, but I find that it's probably because they deem the zaftigs to be more attainable and easier (in the vulgar sense) than stick thin blondes. I'm sure there are men out there who aren't shady and who are just simply attracted to thicker women. Jolly good for them. But I have yet to meet a non-shady one.

On Posting Less

I'm sure that the three or four people who actually read this blog have noticed a downswing in the number of postings. I've noticed myself less interested in posting in the blog.

When I first started the blog, I really didn't have that many friends that I talked to on a daily basis. So, I didn't really have anyone to tell my troubles to, no way of dealing with them. In fact, I wasn't deaing with them. What I much preferred to do was whine and cry and put my problems out there for the world to see in order to elicit sympathy or some other payoff. Hence, the blog.

The other thing that I liked to do was eat lots of Ben n Jerry's.

And I loved getting angry about things. That was great. I mean, I still get angry, but not quite as much anymore. Though, right now I am incensed that I got more sleep last night than I did the previous night and am even more tired than I was yesterday. Ugh. So wrong. Anyway, what better place to get angry and vent and be snarky than in my perfectly anonymous blog, right?

It was a confessional. It was an attention-getter, a way to get approval from the world for how I was living my life, etc. A way to get sympathy and empathy without having to go out on a limb and form any real friendships with real people.

Nowadays, things are different. I don't really need or want a confessional. Sometimes the blog helps me sort things out, but I now question the wisdom of having my sortings publicly displayed. Most of the posts that I start never make it to the blog. I'll be writing one and then realize that I don’t want to post it.

Of course, I still post occasionally, but just don't feel the need to whine so much. It's harder for me to dredge up the snark that came so easily when I was angry and irritated all the time. I have a harder time judging others. Though, of course, I still judge people liberally. Yet, this truly is an improvement in my character. Usually, when I'm writing an especially judgmental post, I hear this voice in my head accusing me of my own faults and urging me to stop throwing stones at others.

I used to love posting to my blog. It was a great outlet. But now I have other outlets. I still post, of course, and I probably won't ever take down the blog, but I just don't have the same need that I once did to put my dirty laundry out on the line for the neighbors to see.

A Truly Repulsive Product

Mint/coffee-flavored gum? Dude, I could have told you this was not going to turn out well.

Mary Kay Cosmetics Better Look Out

Oooooo, the FTC is after your asses.

Basically, the FTC is proposing new rules for multi-level marketers, which is the category that I believe Mary Kay falls into.

In April, citing hundreds of fraud investigations, the F.T.C. proposed new rules for multilevel marketing companies and related businesses. They would require companies to tell potential recruits how many sales representatives have failed to earn more than their start-up costs and how many customers have filed lawsuits for deceptive practices.

The proposal, which may be modified and could take as long as two years before approval, also requires a weeklong waiting period between approaching new sales representatives and sealing the deal.

If Mary Kay reps had to tell potential new recruits that they are not likely to earn their money back should they choose to buy a full inventory, you'd get a lot less people buying full inventories at the start of their Mary Kay careers, whether they were going to be long or short careers. And that would definitely take a few pink Cadillacs off the road. Ouch.

Peanut Butter is no More

Well children, you saw it here first. Peanut Butter is no more.

He has either quit or was fired, I know not which. But from the claims of the EA that she does not know, I would guess that it was a mutual parting of ways. And from the fact that, of course, I saw him printing out his resume not long ago.

I'm thankful that he's gone. That guy had Peanut Butter for brains and a personality that was worse. Hopefully, he'll be happier wherever he lands. : )

A Little Jewel from Annie's Mailbox - On Spousal Shaming of Weight Gain

My best friend of 22 years is going through this right now. She was a 6' ft tall, blue-eyed, blonde, size 10 when, at 23, she married her husband. He is a nice guy in all respects, but he is critical of her because she has gained weight. I just spent a weekend with her in Minnesota and I think that she has become compulsive about food.

Her guy isn't as bad as this jerk, but he did make an asinine comment about her weight in front of me. Which I called him on. I just told him, "I can't believe you just said that. That was really asinine." To which he replied (of course), "I don't care what you say." "Well that's fine, don't, but you should care what your wife is saying." Which is basically the following, "You make me feel ashamed of myself and so I desire to be intimate with you less and less. Your shaming of me also makes it harder for me to love myself enough to truly want to make changes."

Sadly, I think that their union is going to end in divorce unless they can work out their issues. She says that she doesn't want to have kids ever or at least not right now, but I sense conflict regarding children. I think she'd love to have them but not while her husband's shaming her about her weight like that. Plus she is basically taking care of him while he does very little for her. So I think she feels she already has a child to take care of and that a baby will just be added work for her and added abdication of responsibility for him.

They seem to still love each other and seem to still have some of their friendship left. How do you tell your friend that she and her husband need counselling without sounding preachy and intrusive? Answer - you don't. You let her figure it out herself, same as she let you. You hope for the best for her and prepare to offer your shoulder as necessary, without judgment.

I'm thankful to be in program so I can actually see this. So that I can see these things happening and not form my own agenda and try to shove it down her throat. Basically, I'm grateful that I can be a good friend. Finally.

Dear Annie: I read the letter from "Not Thin Enough in Texas," whose fiance was fixated on her weight. You told her to run from him.

I wish I had asked for advice when I met my ex-weight-watcher six years ago. Instead, I married him. I thought his fixation would go away after the wedding, but it got worse. I had to get on the scale every day so he could check my weight. He would buy clothes for me just to make sure I stayed the same size. He belittled me constantly and daily asked if I went to the gym. It was abusive.

By the way, I was, and still am, a size 6. "Not Thin Enough" should run and never look back.
Southern Indiana

Dear Indiana: Thanks for "weighing in." We're sorry you had to learn your lesson the hard way, but we appreciate your writing to warn others.

The Ax is Falling...

And two 20 year trees are being cut down.

One is a sexist old fuddy-duddy. He sidles up to attractive associates at company functions. No one can stand him.

The other is someone whose calls I try to avoid. She doesn't know how to run a computer and talks incessantly while you try to give her instructions. She also usually sounds like she has an overabundance of salivary glands in her mouth. When she calls, you always think she is probably chewing something and mein Gott, that is so rude!

Aside from that, though, Fuddy Duddy and Spit Lady are nice people. FD is usually fun to email back and forth with.

The NY office is slowly being done away with. First, their assistant was axed. And man, she wasn’t happy about it. And she didn't have any qualms letting you know she wasn't happy with it.

My next bet is that the remaining salesperson from that trio will probably work from home going forward. She's expecting a wee one in December, anyway, so it makes life easier for her.

Wish I had more snark about this, but I really don't.

I predict the next one out is Peanut Butter. His corporate credit card is suspended because he FUBAR'd it.

If I Were a Stay at Home Mom, This is the Kind I'd Want to Be

The kind who takes her wine with her to the playdate and has a glass or two while relaxing.

Not the kind who worries every day about whether her kid will get into an ivy-league school.

Ok, I posted that before I read the entire article, which is apparently not necessarily just saying that it's good that moms are having fun and not being so obsessive. The article is written with a leaning toward concern that this could be a new vein of alcoholism. Which would be a bad thing, certainly.

So I am not advocating alcoholism. Man I feel dorky.

NY Times: The Election's Most Personal Attack Ad

Are you a Teddy Wayne?

The Election’s Most Personal Attack Ad

By TEDDY WAYNE

Published: November 9, 2006

St. Louis

TEDDY WAYNE sure talks a good game. But how is he on the issues — specifically, my issues with him as a boyfriend?

Teddy Wayne promises he’ll call you that night. He promises to be a better listener. He promises to let you hold the remote.

Ladies, aren’t these the same broken promises we’ve been hearing from guys since high school?

Teddy Wayne claims he’s concerned about my health care. But when I got the flu, he dropped off a can of chicken soup and then cut and ran, saying he didn’t want to “risk getting sick when I’m swamped at work.”

Teddy Wayne professes to have a reputation as quite the “swing-stater,” but during his term as my boyfriend he has proven again and again that he kisses like a seventh grader.

And how’s his record?

Teddy Wayne voted no on Proposition “Let’s go somewhere romantic when you have time off in September,” under the pretense that there weren’t the financial resources for it.

But just one week later he passed his friend Randy’s “Dude, let’s hit up Atlantic City tonight” grassroots initiative and spent as much as a weekend at a Vermont B&B would have cost. Is this the kind of fiscal responsibility you want in your boyfriend?

Let’s ask a few women who know Teddy Wayne what they think of him:

MICHELLE F. Things started off nice — $50-a-plate dinners, love speeches, the works. But once I committed, he became the worst lame duck ever, carrying through his real agenda of doing whatever he wanted, always pardoning his awful friends. What a Dukakis.

CAMERON M. That guy? Ugh. He would not leave me and my friends alone on Saturday. At the bar, he kept saying we were “babes” and we should pose for “photo ops” with him kissing us. Later, I saw him drunk-dialing all the girls in his cell — or, as he called them, his “constituents.”

JULIE B. Impeach Wayne!

Ladies, I need a new direction for the men I date. No more singles-bar insiders. Not another out-of-control spender whenever it’s my turn to pay for dinner who then exorbitantly taxes my patience by rambling on about how his boss doesn’t appreciate him.

I want my own Obama, a boyfriend who shows he cares about my livelihood by sincerely asking how my day was, who will look to diplomacy first and not get violently jealous when the deli guy innocently winks at me, who’s willing to share his feelings without first watching “Field of Dreams” — even though I’ll probably soon get bored because he’s a little too nice and harmless and is exactly the sort of guy my mother would vote for me.

This Election Day, join me in showing Teddy Wayne the door. But first I have to make sure there isn’t a Knicks game on, or he won’t even notice.

I’m Teddy Wayne’s girlfriend, and I approve this message.

Nugget of Wisdom #213

If everything else comes before your child, then you are a bad parent.

Tomorrow you can change.

Halloween

Happy Halloween to my dear, few readers. :)

Munchkin is going as Peter Pan, a fact which I relayed to my sister on Sunday.

"You mean you're dressing my kid in DRAG for Halloween?"

Yes indeedy, oh ye who hath no clue what it really is to be a parent. She has completely morphed into Disneyland mom. Well, that's what over two years of having your kid in foster care will do to you.

After that, she went back to trying to make her kid fit in the mold she has picked out for her. Good luck.

Part of me loves it when my family reaffirms for me that they cannot raise this child. I could see the frustration building as my sister tried and tried to make D obey simply by sheer strength of her voice. That never works with D.

January can't come soon enough. I just need closure and so does D, whether God has reunification planned for her or adoption planned for her. I'm glad it's not my decision.

Omaha is Hip Dude

Sweet Home Omaha

By RICHARD DOOLING

Published: October 29, 2006

Unemployment’s down, inflation is inconsistent, the housing market is finally cooling off and consumer confidence blows with the wind. Just how are Americans doing? The Op-Ed page asked four writers from around the country to provide snapshots of their local economies over the course of the year. Here is their fourth round of dispatches.

HOUSING prices are falling on both coasts, and bubble panic is around the corner. The financial magazines are already grabbing their readers by the throat and taunting them with headlines like: “U.S. Housing Crash Continues!” “Where Will Housing Prices Fall the Most?” “Is It Time to Cash Out?”

What if it is time to cash out? Where do you go? If you sell on either coast, then you need to find real estate somewhere that the housing bubble missed. Guam? American Samoa? Wait, how about eastern Nebraska? Downright frothless when it comes to housing: the median home price here usually chugs along at the annual rate of inflation and never goes down (up 4 percent last year, up 22 percent over the last five years).

Before you recoil in horror at the thought of living in Omaha, a city of 414,000 souls, consider that this year Money magazine ranked it seventh of the nation’s 10 best big cities to live in, ahead of New York City, which ranked 10th. O.K., now you may recoil in horror.

These compelling statistics have Nebraskans preparing for the imminent arrival of several million New York refugees (victims of post-traumatic bubble anxiety disorder), who will need emergency real estate and housing triage services. The accompanying chart gives some facts and figures for Manhattan condo owners contemplating the big move to the Big O.

According to the cost of living comparison calculator at CNNMoney.com, if you were earning $229,000 in Manhattan, or $153,000 in Queens, you’ll be able to maintain the same standard of living in Omaha with a salary of $100,000 (and not because rodeos are cheaper than Broadway shows). Your money will go farther, and you’ll find less competition for jobs: Omaha’s unemployment rate (3.3 percent) is lower than New York’s (4.5 percent). While you are job hunting and living off your real-estate profits, groceries, utilities and health care will all cost roughly one-third less than you are paying in New York.

According to the Tax Foundation, the move to Omaha will save only about 1 percent in taxes. New York has the second highest average state-and-local tax burden in the country (at 12.9 percent of income); Nebraska has the sixth highest (at 11.6 percent). Why so high here? In part because Nebraska’s 1.7 million residents must pay for schools and roads spread out over 77,000 square miles, compared to more than 19 million New York State residents who occupy a mere 47,000 square miles.

Nebraskans also tolerate notoriously high property taxes because they go to the public schools, where rich and poor alike get a quality education. (A proposed state spending lid on the November ballot is widely expected to fail.)

So, why do people live in a state with high taxes, no mountains, no ocean beaches, no lakes to speak of, no major professional sports teams, no grand old museums or dazzling science centers? The three answers you hear most often from Nebraskans are: (1) quality of life; (2) good schools; (3) wouldn’t moving be kind of a bother?

Here are some other pros and cons to consider before cashing out and heading to flyover country.

Pros:

• Big yard (no more dog walkers and poop bags).

• Big sky (makes you look up, and out).

• Traffic (cars move around, at or near the speed limit).

• Cornhusker football (fall Saturdays with the family in the bleachers).

• Friendly people (perfectly sane strangers say, “Hi!”).

• Public schools (excellent, and “free”).

• The local news (high school sports instead of murders).

• The Berkshire Hathaway convention (you don’t have to fly in for it).

Cons:

• Big yard (lawn maintenance can be noisier than street maintenance).

• Big sky (makes even a New Yorker feel small).

• Traffic (sidewalks are optional, no more walking to the corner deli).

• Cornhusker football (the morbidly obese fellow next to you is wearing a Go Big Red cowboy hat, red Sansabelt slacks and white shoes).

• Friendly people (who love to visit ... for hours).

• The local news (high school sports?).

• The Berkshire Hathaway convention (you don’t get to leave when it’s over).

Required reading: “The Quality of Life Report,” by Meghan Daum. In 1999, Ms. Daum moved from New York City to Lincoln, Neb., and wrote this hilarious novel. The heroine, Lucinda Trout, is a television journalist living in a rent-stabilized “one-windowed cell” at Broadway and 94th Street in Manhattan.

When the building changes hands, Lucinda’s rent soars to $2,100 per month. She learns of an assignment in Prairie City, where she can rent an entire farmhouse (and a farm) for $400 a month. She takes the plunge. Unexpected pleasures ensue: “Something about the blandness of the town and the flat land that surrounded it were making me feel alive and exotic. Almost like another person.”

Richard Dooling is a screenwriter and the author, most recently, of “Bet Your Life.”

When Your Company Gets Sold...

...people get antsy.

ABC Nuts and Bolts was sold recently to an investment firm or something (I'm a little person and I don't really get it) that has a rep for trimming the fat and then reselling companies.

Anyway, they've already started trimming the fat by taking a hatchet to our benefits. The good insurance option that you could pay a little more for is gone altogether. Now there's just the shit option.

But hey, I should be thankful I'm not in production. They didn't just take a hatchet to their benefits, they used a guillotine on those. The lowest echelon of our company, the production people, no longer have health insurance, thank you very much.

And so it shouldn't have been surprising to find a resume from one of the sales guys in with my PowerPoints this morning. Looks like Peanut Butter's going to try and jump ship. Not a big loss in my opinion. His corporate Amex is completely FUBAR'd and he's just been dissatisfied all along. Let's put it this way - they give available offices to the guys who sell really well and after almost two years, no office for Peanut Butter, though he did try to have a tantrum.

And I do mean 'try'. Napoleon doesn't put up with tantrums. He deals with them via employment termination. The key thing to remember in his department is this: YOU ARE REPLACEABLE. EASILY.

Malignant Presence, my new name for Twiggy, is on vacation today. Even though I have extra work, I don't care, because it's such a relief not to have her around. : )

This Wouldn't Happen if She Were a Man

Where does this dude get off making remarks about his opponent's looks?

If it were a race between two men, you'd never hear this kind of shit. Ridiculous.

Birthday Poem

A short birthday poem.

I didn't say it was good.
I didn't say it was great.
I just said it was short.

Wednesday I turned thirty
It was just another day
Got cards, cake, balloon,
Nothing to make anyone swoon

Not where I thought I'd be at thirty.
Thought I'd have a hubby
Thought I'd be less chubby

Thirty rhymes with dirty
Been washin my hands a lot
The soap won't change
The direction of my thoughts

Seven months gone
Since dumpin el manwhore
I look back and think
What'd I wait so long for?

I'm thirty
I'm flirty
Sometimes I'm dirty
But I'm happily single
I guess...

Rush Limbaugh Criticizes Michael J. Fox's Stem Cell Research Ads?

Now I don't think raising farms of human embryos and then destroying them in the quest for stem cells is right, but I do think that some form of stem cell research needs to occur. There are just other sources we could use (cord blood, adult stem cells, etc.).

ANYWAY, that said, I think Rush Limbaugh claiming that Fox is either acting or is off his medication is hideous. Rush Limbaugh is a total ass and he is still in his addiction, which is what makes his personality so ugly. He still thinks the world revolves around him.

Visit is Cancelled

So Munchkin sees Mommy Dearest on Wednesdays and Fridays. Occasionally, Mommy Dearest cancels. Here's the message I got today from her:

"Have 2 cancel visit 4 2night cuz I'm not feeling well. Will & explain further. Sorry :-'("

So I message her back, "Sorry to hear you're not feeling well. What's going on?"

She messages me back. "Took med Dr F wanted me 2 try; feeling very zombie-ish. Ugh."

I almost texted back with, "Are you f'in kidding me? You're disappointing Niece because you feel zombie-ish? I feel like a zombie all week and still did my job!"

I remembered it's not about me just in time to keep from doing something that stupid. It's better when Niece DOESN'T see her mom. It throws her world out of balance and her behaviors get temporarily worse. I have to be honest and admit that I'm more p*ssed that I won't have any alone time than I am that she cancelled. Yes, I am selfish. Aren't we all?

But, yes, I'm also sorry for Niece. I mean, how must it feel for her? I don't know because I can't read her mind, but it can't be a picnic.

More on Mr. Burger King

Well today I was talking with one of my directors about an account that wants to grow its business with us. And this director, whom we'll call The Little General, looked it up and said, "Oh, that's Mr. Burger King's old account." (Mr Burger King --http://asecretaryslife.blogspot.com/2005/11/guess-whos-trying-to-come-back.html#links)

"Gosh is he still even walking this earth?"

"Oh yeah, just saw him at this tradeshow."

"Is he still with the company he left us for?"

"Oh, I think he's on his third company."

Wow. Not a big surprise. He totally made the wrong move when he left here.

For Today

The For Today quote is awesome and reminds me so much of what my primary purpose is right now - to stay abstinent and care for myself and Deirdre.

Patience is a bitter plant, but it has sweet fruit

- German proverb

For today: I am in OA to turn my life around, and I'm willing to wait.

I was about to start starving myself again, frankly. Someone showed me a picture of myself at my lowest weight…and my collar bones looked like they could cut glass. And my lowest weight was not 150…it was 218. Yes, that's right. 218. I can't believe how thin I looked. Makes me scared to go into Onederland. LOL. But hey I looked pretty. :o) LOL.

Like that matters when I starved myself to get there! And I do mean starved…like hair-falling-out starved. Too bad the hair didn't fall out from my legs. LOL. And not grow back.

And then of course I gained my weight back anyway. Because I didn't change my life. I just changed obsessions. And when the replacement obsession grew old and not quite as strong of a drug as the food was, I went back to my core obsession, which was food. I couldn't understand why I kept gaining weight and why I was suddenly longing for old, unhealthy, abusive habits. Well, tada, there's the answer. Whether you're starving or stuffing, you're still obsessing over food and it just doesn't ever get you where you want to go - a happy, healthy life.

My sponsor caught me skipping meals yesterday. She told me that if I didn't stop, my food obsession would return. I just really need to get back to a very healthy way of living, of taking care of myself and my home and my ward. Yeah, it's kinda difficult to do all that when you're exhausted, but the actions have to change first, then the feelings change.

Snap

Well I was starting to dive into a new obsession. But I'm thankful that program has helped me snap back into place.

I was starting to lose my humanity. I wasn't taking care of my charges very well, and that includes D. When I stop and let Program back into my life, everything improves.

Not sure what this weekend is going to bring, hopefully not the sleet and snow that's been promised. But I'm happy I wised up quickly enough to not completely ruin it.

No More Copscop Blog

Well I'm as disappointed as the rest of his fans are, but it appears that copscop has taken down his blog. Aw, that's too bad. Now I can't read his blog and fantasize. Shucks.

Office Lesson #3: Don't Lose Receipts

But if you do, call the establishment and ask if they can please send you a copy.

If the person answering the phone tells you that the owners are out of the country and he doesn't know his a$$ from a hole in the ground when it comes to 'the computer', then just say that if you don't get the receipt, you're going to be very loathe to order catering from them again. Hopefully this is an establishment that you use a lot and hopefully they are a new restaurant that needs your business, so your threat will carry some weight.

HELLO! Business can't stop because the owner went out of the country and you're too stupid to own a computer, people! Tough sh*t.

Man, I wish I hadn't lost that receipt. I don't like being nasty to people anymore, but I can be imperious when I need to. I just don't like doing it, where I used to absolutely relish it. Back when I was a total b*tch (read: not in recovery), I'd consider cowing a restaurant employee to be a job well done and all in a day's work. Now I just feel like an a$$.

Spoiled Brats and their Spoiled Parents

This is a story about English school children and parents bitchin' to high heaven because the school cafeterias are serving healthier lunches. The children miss their french fries and so moms and dads are coming to the rescue by packing sack lunches full of junk or selling hamburgers and fries through the railings at lunch.

Hello!!!! If American schools provided healthier lunches for my kid to eat, I'd be jumping up for joy. One of the breakfasts they did for D had a choice between cereal and fruit or a pastry twist. She's five, what do you think she's going to pick? At least the English schools are seeing their children getting fatter and actually giving a damn. And I say that as a fat woman.

Why God Why

I **really** wish that Twiggy would just go to lunch like a normal person instead of coming back to her desk. Can't I be 'alone' for one hour per day up here?

What I really need to recognize is that I am just very agitated. It's not Twiggy. It's not the Geico callers, it's not any of that. I'm just stressed out.

Poem

Ever heard that song by Taproot, Poem? Great song. Anyway, on with my meager writing talents…if they can be called that.

So is poetry good if you can understand it or is it better if it's mysterious and you don't quite get it? I don't know.

My Stab at Poetry
I love you.
I loathe you.
You're thoughtless.
Yet you make me high.

The antithesis of the pint,
But still the same effect.
I embrace you
And fear your nuances.

Ruination.
Destruction.
Abdication of duty.
I daren't point
At you.
That's powerlessness.

Pointing at me
Are my foolishness's
Results.

Ah, addiction!
Many forms, yet all the same
In their work.
This might be better
If it rhymed.]

I love you.
You're a substance.
In non-substance form.
I want to be fixed.

Angelina's Much Better at This

How nice of Angelina to make celebrities feel ashamed of themselves and then decide to give some of their glorious essences to the world.

However, none of these upstarts, such a Nicole Kidman or Madonna, are as good at it as Angelina is. When Angelina speaks, she sounds like she knows what she's talking about. When Nicole speaks, it sounds as if she was asked a question that she never dreamed she'd have to answer, such as, "What the f*ck are you doing in Kosovo?"

Cricket, You Win

You have slaughtered me.

Your IVR is absolutely impenetrable. Had I known this, I'd have stalked my butt over to one of your cheap strip mall locations with your clueless employees and complained at them for a while during lunch.

But I didn't know that. Instead I peacefully ate my salad and started reading a new Dean Koontz novel.

So now I'm trying to get one of your local stores on the phone, which is about as achievable as getting Mr. Wrong to set one size 14.5 food in Nebraska, or about as achievable as getting my five year old to stop assaulting teachers and wussy daycare workers. It's about as achievable as my ex deciding to be faithful to any one woman while in a relationship lasting longer than fifteen minutes.

I could go on and on about this, but I won't. Suffice it to say that I get what I pay for and I'm not paying much for this shiznit.

Having a cell phone is almost like some kind of addiction. Really.

Fine! I will just double-pay you greedy mofos!! For f*ck's sake!

Daycare

So I'm trying to find my little hellion a new daycare because my friend who graciously offered to help me is getting near her expiration date. The wait at the behavioral day center is a month long, even though I have jumped through the hoops as quickly as possible. I'm hoping that someone else's hellion may have improved in the meantime and so may not need the services.

I find myself, instead of trying to be as honest as possible and trying to facilitate good communication, trying to lie as little as I can while still achieving my objective of finding a daycare for Niece.

My search is yielding very little fruit. The biggest find so far is a service that will help you find daycares, but their search product is $35. Just to search for a daycare!!! $35!!!! Just to SEARCH!!!

Still, perhaps $35 would be worth it for a little peace, a little less stress, and the lowering of my blood pressure!

I am in a huge bind. And right now I feel like I am not going to find a way out any time soon.

Gawd I'm tired

I'm so tired. But it was worth it to see Flavor Flav's potential concubines' families duking it out last night.You can tell how New York was produced. Her mom's as much of a piece of work as she is.

Someone asked me last night why I watch that show. Well, I watch it primarily so I can feel better about my life. Watch it once and you'll understand.

My guts are all in an uproar and I think it's over this trial on Thursday. And that big zit on the side of my face. I detest that my skin is perptually adolescent. Oh and that I don't have my retreat stuff done either. Bricks and signs, bricks and signs. The committee totally FUBAR'd up the press op that I got them. They can pretty much forget about it now I think.

You know that buzzing thing that Pat from SNL used to do? (she/he was the androgynous one that no one could figure out whether she/he was a she or a he). I feel like doing that. Today. All day.

Well I must go get plates and shiznit ready for that client visit downstairs. Fun fun fun. :o)

Office Lesson 2

When a satellite office asks you to send something to them 2nd day air, you can probably procrastinate on that task for one day and then send overnight, but if they sent the request on 9/26 and it's 10/9 and you didn't do it, be prepared for a spanking.

When they call and ask where the stuff is, you can BS your way through it by saying, "Hmm, I'm not sure what happened to that package. I'll check on it. I'm sure I sent it." And then quickly send it out there.

Office Lesson 1

I thought this might be a fun theme.

Lesson 1:
When wearing low-riding pants, it is wise not to wear panties that have a little pink bow in the back. When you bend over, the bow shows, and when you stand up, it gets caught on the waistband of your pants. Just ask the Marketing Assistant, who is now walking around amidst absolute alpha male dogs with a small pink bow showing in the back of her trousers.

What a Mess

OK things are really sucking around here. First, Niece gets kicked out of kindergarten. Then I find a daycare that has room for her, but she assaults the teachers, so they're pissed. That was yesterday. But they were willing to give her another shot today. However, Niece won't be going to daycare today because she has a 100 degree fever and an earache.

 

So let's see...how much work have I missed so far?

 

Monday...I was sick. No work that day. -8 hours.

 

Tuesday...back at work...school calls at about 9:30 am to report that I need to pick up Niece. I return to work around 11:30 am, after dropping her off in Blair. I have to leave at 4:30pm though, because my sitter can only watch her till 5pm. -2 hours (I skip lunch)

 

Wednesday...back at work...ONE full day! YAY!

 

Thursday...Niece starts daycare. Daycare calls me at 3pm to pick her up. -2.5 hours.

 

Friday...Niece has temperature/earache...I'm screwed...backup daycare is available starting at 12:30. -3 hours

 

Hours available: 40

Hours missed: 13

Percentage worked: 68%

Likelihood that I will receive a warning in the near future, though I am trying with all my might to be at work and do a great job: 85%

Likelihood that I will be fired this year: 80%

 

I guess I don't need a boyfriend to sate any libido that I may or may not have. Looks like it's 80% certain that I'm going to get screwed anyway.

 

You know...it's not that Napoleon is a jerk. It's not that at all. It is that Napoleon is business-minded and they need someone in my position that can be there consistently. Better polish the resume.

 

oooooooo New Link!

This person lives in Lincoln, NE and posts a daily picture from that place. I didn't know there were so many cool aspects of Lincoln. Far out. : )

Bride's Parents Kidnap Her to Prevent Marriage

This is one those things where DearAbby would say, "You'd better reconsider that marriage, b*tch, because your parents hate that dude, and they ain't going anywhere. You're in for a long road."

It's My Birthday....

…no, not today. This month, on the 25th. 13 days after D-day, the day of THE trial. God I am looking forward to finally getting some dang resolution to this mess! And I will also say that I am glad it's in God's hands, not mine. Good Orderly Direction.

A VP was walking by my desk when a client services admin had just passed her and she stopped by and asked who that was. I told her. Somehow we got onto the fact that I'm turning 30 this month and I go, "I'm turning 30 this month! Don't I get something for that sh*t?" It was totally a joke and totally not tacky, but it seriously looks tacky in this post. But since I know the truth of its non-tackiness in the situation of which I speak, I will confidently say that I am not tacky. However, I used to be…horribly tacky. I don't feel like going there. I mean, read the rest of my blog and see how messed up I was - then you'll know. LOL

Anyways…..I'm going to be 30 and it's not too exciting. But in this office, it's easy for people to forget one's birthday and that means a loss of partying income. A birthday to these folks means, "Oh! $50 to the Secretary!" Ok, yes, I am tacky. : )

Last year, my birthday was totally forgotten, overlooked, you name it. So I came up with a plan! Cause I was feeling PRETTY damn sorry for myself and was actually quite weepy.

So the plan is this - save last year's cards, begin to display about two-three days prior to your birthday. Great idea, huh?

Works great for Secretary's day too. Save last year's Secretary's Day cards, display two-three days prior to event, and voila! A subtle reminder without the remindees knowing they're being reminded. I mean, like a frickin' charm!!!

And, no, they don't remember which card they gave you last year. Do you remember what birthday card you gave some nameless office face last year? Or even your best bud? Do you remember what your Christmas cards that you gave out looked like last year? Probably not, unless you have extras left over, or unless you have one box of Christmas cards stored in your desk that you use every year and consequently should be good to go for about four years worth of Christmases.

While we're talking about this stuff, you should probably check out www.ghettotips.com. Their tips run in the same vein as the ones that I just dispensed. LOL.

Ok, secretaries, work it!

Wait. I thought we were FREEING the Iraqis...

How come in the newly 'freed' Iraw, journalists are being imprisoned for speaking out against the government and the government is taking passages from Saddam Hussein's penal code that work against freedom of the press?

Expense Report Adventures

So ABC Nuts & Bolts recently sent its delegation off to their favorite tradeshow in Vegas. MFD is a total foodie, so she always goes to these really posh restaurants and her bills for her client dinners are exquisitely high.

"So how was Guy Savoy?"

"It was wonderful, absolutely wonderful."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, I had so and so there and we were talking with the waiter. He had this like French accent or something. SS says she wants something green, some vegetables. So he says, 'Well we have these fabulous vegetables in a raspberry reduction,' it sounds good, so she orders that. Then this other person wants some kind of soup. He recommends some soup. So everything's hunky dory until I get the bill. $65 for the vegetables, $75 for the bowl of soup. I about sh*t my pants…about $1200 for the whole thing!"

I knew that was going to happen. There were some other bills in the upper hundreds, but nothing over 2K. No really good alcohol-soaked tradeshow stories either. Bummer.

Oh wait, except that the Marketing Manager got food poisoning and had to STILL work through the dang tradeshow.

In other news, now that Nebraska football season has started, the guys, all naturally competitive sports freaks, are trying to get their clients to accompany them to Nebraska football games…at a rate of about $800 and some change per occasion, just for the tickets. When is management going to catch onto that one? Maybe never. LOL.

Schools Are Wussies

I'm about ready to scream right now. Munchkin's school is full of a bunch of adults who are total wussies against my five year old. They are not in charge of their classroom. They're handing all this power over to a five year old for God's sake.

She misbehaves and goes to the Positive Action Center. I have renamed this to something more appopriate for what actually takes place there: the Positive Bullsh*t Center.

This all started last week. On Tuesday, she came home talking about the PBC and how fun it was and that she was good and got to go there. Something was fishy. So I called the school to ask about what this boon she was talking about was. And they filled me in.

Guess what? Next day Munchkin was misbehaving again. And where did she go? To the PBC.

Foster children are usually children who have suffered neglect and abuse of some kind. Because they could not get what they needed from their caregivers, they learned that, in order to survive, you manipulate and cajole until your needs are met. Therefore, many of them, though they are good kids, are also expert manipulators. They truly do not know any better. Such is the case with Munchkin.

I have told them again and again that she is working them, yada yada yada, and they will not change their ways in the PBC until the principal approves it. This absolutely defies sense. So until the principal gets back from her brother's surgery, my kid will be treated well for being naughty. And all those adults are completely aware that they are being worked, but they're willing to let this go on because no one in charge is there to tell them to comply with my wishes!

They called me yesterday and had me come and get her because she was running out of the classroom. I didn't know any better so I just went with it. Today when they called to warn me about possibly having to take her home, I flatly refused. I'm sorry, but you're letting a five year old run your school? Get a clue people.

You know what my sponsor tells me when I call her crying because I'm so frustrated with Munchkin? She tells me, with a tone that tells me I'm being ridiculous, that I'm letting a five year old determine my self-worth. Guess what? She's right. A five year old should NEVER be in charge and that's what this school is letting go on.

And I'm not concerned that they have all these other kids to educate. I'm sorry, but in order to get what I need for Munchkin, I cannot be concerned about that. That is their problem to solve. If I thought it would benefit Munchkin in the least for me to come and get her, then I would certainly do it. But you cannot tell me that Munchkin is the one who will benefit from me taking her home. No. The SCHOOL is the one who will benefit, not my niece. Their 'problem' will be solved and my niece will lose yet another day of learning.

Well, not quite. She'll learn something…she'll learn that if she acts crazy, she will be in charge and can do whatever the he*l she wants. I REFUSED to help the school teach her that.

Snap Decisions

Snap decisions are usually not good ones.

So it was demonstrated to me today. Munchkin's school called and apparently she is acting out again today.

My lack of confidence in these areas is really showing. At the first mention of switching to half-day kindergarten, I was like, "Yes, school, I will lay down and do what you say!"

But after conversations with the caseworker and the counsellor, that does not seem like the best solution. The best solution is to work through these problems and see if they continue even after applying discipline and patience to the issue at hand. Half-day kindergarten is just a quick fix. I am too easily swayed by people with degrees. When they first mentioned half-day, I was against it. I didn't voice this opinion, however. I just bowed to their professional knowledge.

I know the school is concerned about safety. That's legitimate. But I am concerned about Munchkin getting the message that she can growl, kick, spit, and bite her way out of any unpleasant situation. All she has to do is scare the adults and they'll bow to her wishes.

That is one side of this dilemma. The other side is that I need to be more independent of the caseworker and the therapists involved in this situation. I need to fully take on my role as Munchkin's parent. I don't need this much help. I have my own support systems. I can handle this, with the help of God and the people that I trust in my own life. I didn't realize how much power I have as a foster parent. These decisions are mostly mine to make. I don't need input from a zillion different people - I am asking for approval far too much, and it is essentially an effort to put others in control of my life and Munchkin's life

It comes down to this: Am I going to parent this kid or not? Do I want to do it or do I want others to do it? Time to stand up.

Kill Bill is An Excellent Film, But...

…if you've recently become used to going to bed at 10:30 or 11:30, it's not worth staying up for. No movie is.

But man, it was cool to watch Black Mamba and California Mountain Snake fight it out. I especially love the part where Black Mamba plucks out Cali's other eye and then Cali's thrashing around on the floor. It's frickin hilarious. Watching those chicks fight made me want to be thin LOL.

In other news, Mr. Wrong is back. Why can't I shake this bad habit? What is wrong with me? A better question might be - what is the payoff? Sponsor says it is a distraction. I have a lot of hard work to deal with when it comes to munchkin and that trial date is looming. Both of these things are very troubling. My usual way of doing things is to find a fantasy to live in instead of looking for and executing solutions.

I could sit here and go, oh well there must be some COSMIC connection, and THAT'S why this has been going on for three or four years now. But I know that's a bunch of crap. I know the real reason is that there is some payoff. I wish I could say that I believe in cosmic connections. But the truth is that I no longer do. I used to be far more romantic, but now I feel like all that melodramatic stuff is a bunch of bullsh*t.

But, more than anything, I do wish that I had a special someone to share munchkin's hills and valleys with, someone to talk to about her problem. I sometimes wish I didn't have to do it alone…

But wait, I'm not alone. I have friends who are more than willing to let me share my problems with them. I have people who are more than willing to talk to me about things. What's up with this whining? There's no reason I can't handle this. Good God. The world is not ending just because I don't have someone to rescue me from it! I don't need to be rescued. I know how to solve these problems!

The Wonders of Cast Iron

I remember growing up and my mom using her cast iron skillet and raving about how wonderful it was. I would look at that thing and think, how could that possibly be wonderful? It looks horrible, weighs a ton, and everything bloody well sticks to it!

But now I know the wonders of cast iron. It is the ultimate non-stick surface. My mom's mistake? Washing it with soap.

My recent flirtation with cast iron (and this is not a food blog so I don't know why I'm talking about it. I just felt like it. It's my blog. I can do that.) began recently when I was browsing some links at FrugalForLife (www.frugalforlife.com). One of the links is for products sold to the Amish. And one of those links then led me to an article about why cast iron is awesome.

I was also excited when I went to a local kitchen products store and found a universal pan lid! It fits any pan from 10 inches to 12 inches! Very cheap too. I think it was something like $10.00.

The Wonders of Cast Iron
1. Cast iron is cheap.
2. Cast iron lasts forever. My experience bears this out - my mom has cast iron that's older than me.
3. Cast iron might just stop a bullet if held in front of your chest or other appendage at the proper moment. Useful if you live in the hood.

4. You can use any utensils you want with it. No babying this stuff!
5. It is the ULTIMATE 'non-stick' surface. You season it with vegetable oil by giving it a light coating and then baking your pan at a high temp in your oven for a while. Poof! Non-stick. To keep it that way, don't use soap when you wash it. That's right. No soap. No, it's not gross. When you store it, give it a light, light coating with non-stick spray. Also, do not put it in the dishwasher. The non-stick chemicals never flake off into your food, and if it loses its seasoning, it's easy to re-season it.

6. A cast iron skillet applied with force to the head of burglar or other perp will stop them in their tracks.
7. I mentioned it lasts forever, right?
8. No non-stick chemicals seeping into your food.
9. Can be used on the stove AND in the oven!
10. Will not warp easily. Ever had a pan get warped? Pain in the a*s.
11. Even heat distribution.
12. Uses less energy! What you used to have to use 'high' for on your stove with a normal pan, you can use 'medium' for with cast iron.

I guess I have to mention the cons…
1. it's heavy.
2. doesn't heat quickly or cool slowly. Better get to know your skillet and your stove.
3. Yeeeeah….no dishwasher for this one.
4. Not a very substantial handle -- Bit of a problem when your skillet weighs that much. Solution - Kitchenaid's silicon handle grabber things.

That's about it. Not bad for something that'll outlive YOU.

A Rainy Day with Hope

So recently I have felt out of whack. Munchkin was out of control and so was I.

Today however is a new day. The whole day yesterday went well - Munchkin behaved, I behaved. Same thing today. Yay! : )

She even got dressed and made her bed when I told her to. Miracles do happen!

I don't have control over her actions but I think that it helps that my attitude has changed in these past two days and so now all of a sudden things are going well. I conduct myself differently as a parent and therefore, she reacts differently.

I am just feeling all around better. It could be that I was in a 'sugar depression' and that colored everything, I'm not sure. But I think we are going to try sugar-free syrup, just in case. A program friend of mine suggested it. She said that when we eat less sugar, it affects us even more when we dabble in it. Kind of like building up a tolerance to alcohol. The more you drink, the more you need to get the effects.

Remember that delicious breakfast that V cooked for Edie in V for Vendetta? And then her gay friend also cooked it for her? And then Parliament blew up? It's called Eggy in the Basket and it's awesome. I resurrected my small cast iron skillet and made it last night. Realllllly simple greasy morning deliciousness. Yum. I think right now that I'd have breakfast at every meal of the day. I'm on a real breakfast kick right now.

Eggy in the Basket

Ingredients:
- 1 slice of bread, your choice. You'll want something substantial. I used cheap wheat bread, but I think I'm going to try something different next time…like perhaps some potato bread or Italian bread.

- 1 medium egg - depends on your bread. Are you using cheap wheat or white? Then you need a medium egg, because it'll fit in your bread. But if you are using something more substantial, you could probably get away with a large egg.

- 1 tsp butter
Salt & pepper to taste

1. Cut a hole out of your bread…about the size of a tennis or handball. Not a science, I have read. ;o)
2. Butter one side of your bread.
3. Melt the butter or whatever in your skillet on medium.
4. Put your bread in the pan, buttered side up.
5. Break your egg into the hole. Or if you detest that yolky taste, break your egg into a bowl, whisk, and THEN pour into your bread.

6. Let egg 'set' into bread. Check it occasionally to see how it's doing.
7. Carefully turn it over (egg will be runny on top).
8. Cook until you think it's perfectly done.

Voila! Five or ten minutes tops for the whole thing. I saw somewhere else online where someone added some dill. I might try that, but this is good enough for me right now. :o) Cheap and filling, peeps!

Food Fog

I felt pretty miserable this weekend. I spent almost the whole time running from my feelings, trying to avoid them however I could.

I feel that I must reach out for help, but I keep reaching out to food instead of people and God.

I feel overwhelmed and frustrated and I am going back to old methods of coping instead of turning to my friends, turning to God, using the tools of the program, to deal with my problems.

I'm not taking time out for myself, not getting sitters, just assuming that people do not want to help and do not have time. I'm trying to do it all by myself, and so, of course, it's not working. Sometimes I don't even want to accept help when it's offered. Some of my friends want to spend time with me,  some of them want to do things with me, but I turn down their offers and would rather be alone. Not productive.

It's because I'd rather walk around in a fog and not feel anything than spend time with people. I can't ignore a person that's right in front of me. I can't tell them to go play, can't just entertain an adult…adults can tell you're not all there, they can tell that you're not in the moment, and they tend to get a little insulted when you do that right in front of their faces. It's best not to have them around when you want to be foggy. You have to be in the moment, in the present, when there's a fully-perceptive, healthy adult nearby.

Yet again I learn that food does not serve me. At all. It makes pain last longer, augments existing frustration, lengthens the period of time spent in misery while problems are not being solved, but instead are being infinitely perpetualized so as to keep one in a state of mental agony.

I hope to end it today. I need to get honest. I need to reach out, get up, shake it off, and try again.

No Visit Today

And no surprise, either.

The Dog is Arrested for Capturing Rapist Andrew Luster

I think this is ridiculous. Yeah, I know Chapman isn't a posterchild for the law or whatever, but capturing Andrew Luster was a very good thing.

Andrew Luster may have faced charges on raping only three women, but that's because those are the only three who came forward. Everyone's pretty sure he raped a lot more women than that. He used to drug them, rape them, and videotape the whole thing. That man was dangerous and belonged in jail and thank God that someone got him. I hope Chapman gets off easy.

Your Featured Selection is Here!

And it's Nick Lachey's shameless _P.O.S._ CD, where he aims to make money from his divorce by writing songs that shamelessly sell out his personal life, titled: "What's Left of Me".

Accept or Decline.

I think Decline.

Sadness, Butt Vomit, and Mystery Texts

Sadness
It's going to be a beautiful day out today -- the high today will be somewhere in the 80s. Today, this equated to a beautiful morning.

But not inside my apartment.

At first it seemed like things were going to be awesome today. Munchkin got up, got dressed, and made her bed all before she came to ask me if she could watch TV. Yes! The strategy worked!

Then I got up and did my thing, and was trying to find a way to do Munchkin's hair without it hurting her toward the end of the day. I figured something out and got her to let me do her hair. Yay!

Then, I told Munchkin that I didn't know if she was going to have visit today because Mommy is still sick. All of a sudden, it was a stay at home day, according to her, and she didn't want to go to school. I felt like a huge ogre this morning because I had to practically drag her into the school this morning….in front of all the kids sitting there eating breakfast. Ugh. Someone finally came and took her to breakfast and then she didn't say goodbye or I love you to me, she just went. I don't think I could reasonably expect more than that from her.

I keep thinking…what could I have done differently? I could have set this morning up to be a better one…she picked out her own clothes this morning, which means she ended up wearing her dirty khaki capris from yesterday and wouldn't change out of them. Oh well, I thought, could be worse. At least she's wearing pants. I hate the idea that someone might think that there's some other reason she's wearing those.

Like that her foster mother doesn't care enough about her to wash her clothes. Believe me, after all the stories of children dying in foster care, foster care has a very bad name. Even I don't think much of foster homes, though fostering is exactly what I'm doing right now. There is a definite stigma attached to foster care and being a foster parent. People wonder, I think, how many children you have at home in cages with straw and a food bowl at the bottom. Or how many rolls of duct tape you have at home to keep those kids in line. God it makes me sick just thinking about things that those children have had to suffer.

I hope Munchkin's day gets better today. I feel so bad for her. She seems to be in so much torment during these visit days and their aftermath and I just ache for her. Whether it's because she wants to live with Mommy or she doesn't want to live with Mommy, I can't tell. I'm no mind reader. And I don't wish to speculate. In the past, I'd probably have said things like, "Well I'm sure it's because she doesn't want to live with her Mommy! She wants to live with ME!" But nowadays, if something like that escaped my lips, I'd probably gasp at how self-serving, arrogant, and gauche it is to pass that judgment…to act like I can read Munchkin's thoughts.

Butt Vomit
Anyone who read the title of this section of the post was probably like, "Dude, I'm outta here." But trust me, it's not gonna be gross.

One person whose thoughts I do not need to read to understand them, though, is her mother's. Sister called me Tuesday to warn me that she might not be able to have visit on Wednesday, even though all she had was diarrhea.

"Well, we don't need to worry about Wednesday till it gets here, do we? I mean, you might be just fine by tomorrow, if you take some immodium."

No real reply to that statement.

Not surprisingly, Wednesday was cancelled. Hence the weeping from Munchkin. When I got that call on Tuesday, it had a feeling of dishonesty to it…of wanting to cancel the visit, and diarrhea happened pop up, which helped with that want. I don't think she's lying about diarrhea.

Last night, a text about how sick she still is.

ME: U feel really guilty about cancelling visits, don't U?
HER: Extremely. :`(
ME: That doesn't make sense, does it? If ur sick, ur sick.
ME: As long as ur being honest w/urself, nothing to feel guilty about.
HER: Usually I'd just med myself up or have Dr F call something in & have visit anyway, but can't this time. I feel so bad about it all.

ME: Why not?
HER: @ visit, D likes to sit on me, likes 2 be near me. What if I get her sick? What if I suddnely gotta go really bad? I don't do humiliation well.

ME: Tell her at the start of visit that she can't do that because Mommy is sick. Wash ur hands and keep hers washed - no germs will pass along.

ME: and if you take some meds, no germs will be available via their chosen exit, so no one will get sick.
HER: I'm gonna call the Dr's office now.

So basically, she had been content to be sick and avoid visits that way. She wasn't taking any meds to help stop the illness.

This reminds me of when I used to look forward to being sick so that I wouldn't have to go to work. I used to look forward to doctor appointments because that was time away from work that I could 'legally' take. It is the same thing.

And normally, I'd be fine with that. But not when it upsets D so much. I don't think it's likely that she'll get sick. Supposedly, it is better for D when her mom cancels visits because that weakens her mom's case against termination of her rights, which is supposed to be better for D in the long run. I don't think her mom can raise her, but it is awfully hard to watch D be so sad when her mom cancels visits. I don't think it's fair to her. D is already torn enough and what is the message she gets when her mom cancels visits? I don't know exactly what it is, but I don't believe it's a good message.

Mystery Texts
This morning I got another Mystery Text. This one? "Have a fantastic day" and where did it come from? Supposely my *own* number. Dude, I didn't get up at 7:15 and send myself a test. I can guarantee you that one. Weird. But pleasant nonetheless, I suppose.

Raise Your Hand...

…if you noticed that Justin Timberlake is getting a beating in the press, and most especially, the gossip bloggers.

I mean, they are whippin him with a cat o nine tails. Every time he does or says something, they make him out like he's some kind of jerk. Ok, I guess they're not really doing that much work on that…how much work does it take to make a person who really is an a**hole look like what he is?

After all, he's STILL milking his former relationship with Britney Spears, while she clearly is not milking said former relationship. Points for Brit Brit!

And now there's a picture of the Pasty One on A Socialite's Life where he totally looks like he's three sheets to the wind. Heavy sarcasm is in use whenever posts about Pasty appear on that site and others.

Hmmmm...

Employment Can Be Fleeting...

As a couple of bloggers that I have read about have learned.

I have read the blogs of at least three people now who were fired for their internet usage. It just reminds me why it is so important to not give an employer any reason to fire you if you can avoid it…if you do in fact want to remain employed that is. I'm not going to give up my blog…but this is a great reminder of why I need to spend more time working and less time slacking. Not just because it's the honest thing to do but because I don't like what the consequences could be. That's why blog posts have waned a little bit lately. That's my higher power at work, telling me what I *should* be doing doesn't match what I *am* doing. So I am trying to be more honest about my time at work.

Which is why my cube is going to be reconfigured next week…to allow me to talk to coworkers more easily as well as to help me get honest…and no, that wasn't my sup's idea. It was mine. Straight from the higher power though. After I said it, I immediately felt fearful. I don't think I'd get fired without a warning unless I had some seriously messed up stuff and p*ssed off a bunch of people in my department, but why take the chance? Some browsing is ok. Spending hours doing it: not ok. That *is* my employer's time, after all. And it's the most expensive commodity that I have any direct contact with.

It's nice to know what they actually call it in HR'ese when they fire someone for this stuff. "Excessive internet usage". Makes sense…that's what I'd call it if I were still documenting unemployment claims. But employers should be advised that it may be difficult to avoid paying unemployment without warning the employee first, especially if their internet usage policy is vague, that is, it's not all or nothing or it doesn't quantify what it considers to be misconduct - the misconduct is not measurable.

Does getting unemployment make all that big of a difference? Probably not to the employer, other than the feeling of gall after having fired an employee for what they considered to be egregious misconduct. But the employee would certainly feel pretty vindicated that their termination had a tinge of unfairness to it.

I guess all this is moot. I still have expense reports to crank out today.

Condoms and the Omaha Weird-Herald

Our local paper, the Omaha World-Herald, has renamed its Living section the following:

Lifestyles.

I thought about emailing them and reminding them that Lifestyles is the brand name for a popular line of condoms, but I used to work there, so I know they're vicious enough to use my IP to track me down or at least contact my employer and be all like, "Some chick that works for you is harrassing us." Especially since I already sent them one email castigating them for usurping my city's name and then parking their crappy, and I do mean crappy (as in non-updated design for about seven years now), website there.

Syriana

Great movie. Realllly makes you think. That guy who plays the good emir is hot. I think his name is Siddiq something. Definitely hot. His evil prince brother looks hot at first, then turns weasily and non-hot as we get to know him.

George Clooney looks a bit like someone's cuddly grandfather until he meets a dude in a cafe and basically tells him that if anything happens to old Georgie, then first the dude's son will die, then his wife, then him. And, oh, by the way, Georgie wants his passports back.

Sorry for the, uh, 'blonde' kind of writing...I've been reading this Dean R. Koontz book, "Seize the Night" and two of the main characters are boardheads. Surfers, that is. With genetically engineered troops of rhesus monkeys wandering around their community, trying to kill them. You have to read it to understand, dude.

The Ritz crackers that I bought the other day as work snacks in order to avoid vending machines are totally clamshelling me as though I was riding insanely hollow, fully macking waves and didn't get out of the pipe in time. This is the second of two Dean R. Koontz books.

Got my subpoena today for the trial in October regarding Niece's situation. I'll be sitting out in the hall with four other witnesses, probably crocheting the baby blanket that I am acquiring the CORRECT yarn for today. I tried to do it half-assed last night but just couldn't bear the thought of doing all that work and ending up with a misshapen, birth-defected baby blanket at the end of three months. I'm thankful that it wasn't in fact a subpoena for one of my past financial misdeeds. No, not fraud, just severe bill-paying dysfunction.

I did spend some time last night freaking out and calling my OA friends to whine about what IS that subpoena? What are those civil process servers bringing me? One of my buddies assured me that, even if I were to become homeless, I could just crash in her basement. Not sure how the department of health and human services would take that. Their attitude might be something akin to, "Not with our ward, you're not!" One more reason to continue to be a functioning adult.

Alrighty, enough with the fun writing...now I must crank out about five expense reports. A bunch of my peeps just back from this year's major tradeshow for them, soooooo I'm sure I'll have more fun to report later, yo!

(If you could see how un-hip I am in real life, you'd totally laugh your ass off at all this hip-talk I'm trying to use.)

Oh, did I forget to let you know about the weird-ass text message I got last night? Here it is:

"Diary of a mad black woman ~Bite My Sushi~"

This little jewel was sent at 3:14am last night. I have no idea who sent it or what it means. I do recall a conversation with an OA friend about sushi the other day...but she's sane, so I doubt that she'd be up at 3:14am on a school night. Hence, the mystery of the sender is still a mystery. I just have their phone number, and as I am 3/4 convinced that they sent it to the wrong person, I'm loathe to actually call them.

Diary of a Mad Black Woman was frickin' awesome, by the way. I LOVED it. I totally recommend that one.

Alright, alright, I succumb to actually working for a living. I will now proceed to crank out several expense reports. Au revoir!

Control Freaks

Man, I thought that *I* was bad. But after last night's meeting, it is clear to me that I can breathe a little easier, knowing that I could always be worse.

Last night at OA we had a meeting about the retreat and I was struck by how much of a control freak the leader of the committee is. I do believe we need strong leadership, but man, I find this particular behavior to be obnoxious in the extreme. Geez, just let me do my job. Help is nice, letting me know about what's worked in the past is nice, but telling me step by step how to do it really kinda grates on me.

It's sooooo ironic. We were talking about a tradition, tradition nine, which basically keeps all the addicts from wrecking their own organization. Addicts don't seem to like authority much. This is incredibly heavy irony because we tend to be control freaks. We manipulate and pout when people decide that *they* are going to be the captains of their own ships, no matter how much advice we give them and how much we try to tell them the *right* way to navigate the ship of their lives.

And you know this could just be my own personality flaws coming through - imagine this: I don't like authority. Hell, read my blog from a year ago and all you'll see is whining about how people are asking me to work. Holy Jesus, no! Though I don't think it's unreasonable to be angry that the uppity Adminzilla has decided you can go shred her trash. That might have been two centimeters on the right side of okay. And there were the Lazy Executive Assistants to deal with...that wasn't unreasonable. But God, the whining! Worse that my five year old. Blech.

Well, it's a new day and I don't have to meet up with this person for another whole week. Thank you Jesus. Thank you Tom Cruise.

Diabetes is on the Rise

And you'll never guess where...click the title to see the article in the New York Times.

Apparently, diabetes is the aftermath of modernization and greater prosperity. Makes sense but who would have thunk it?

Go check out WaiterRant this morning...

He has an awesome post called "Outside Looking In".

Conscientious Employees

Are they what makes this office tick, or are they just annoying to the would-be slacker?

Twiggy was out all last week. That was nice. It was nice not having to sit next to her royal highness for a week. I also enjoyed being able to go to lunch early without getting the North Chicago evil eye, which is a sight to behold. You don't want to get caught in that gaze.

11:30 strikes. "Hey Twiggy, I'm going to lunch, ok?!"

"I GUESS." Aw shit.

"You don't sound too happy; what's up?"

She pauses to think of something that conveys her displeasure at not having the world revolve around her while not displaying too much venom. "It's just been a long morning."

So f'in what? Every time she says she's going to take early lunch, she doesn't end up going until her lunch period is half over and then I end up having to wait for her to come back. Makes me want to tear my hair out sometimes.

"Oh ok, no sweat. I was just going to Wal-Mart. If you want to go now, you're more than welcome; I don't have anything pressing." I'm doing my best to keep my demeanor as kind and helpful as possible.

"No, it's ok."

"You sure? I can wait."

"No, I'm fine."

Score. "Alrighty, see you soon then."

Anyway, Twiggy has a lot of cute little duties that she does for the office.

She orders the office supplies. Actually, she over-orders the office supplies. Must be her QVC penchant rearing its ugly, Black Hills Gold, Diamonique- encrusted head. When we run out of an item, it's not just replaced; future scarcity of said item is insured against by ordering two backups of the item.

I mentioned that she's a packrat, right? Her cube has piles of paper and old, old software books on almost every square inch. It makes sense that her supply closets would be stuffed to overflowing with ancient office supplies that predate the age of the computer.

I had to put some of her booty away while she was gone. Unfortunately, the world has come to an end, because my officemates, who are mostly helpless males apparently, will have to group their own manila file folders into groupings of the three different tabs. Do you understand what I'm getting at?

Allow me to spell it out: when she orders manila file folders, she sorts the f*ckers into sets of three. The whole box, mi amigo. WTF?

More proof of her search for ways to wipe the rearends of the male members of the species can be found in the fact that she doesn't trust them to be able to sniff out where the coffee is kept. She has to extract the little packets from the boxes and gently place them in the drawers next to the coffeemakers. She actually asked me to make sure that coffee stays in the drawers while she was out. Easy enough, I won't complain. Miraculously, the ravenous coffee drinkers did not manage to run themselves out of easily accessible coffee packets. Thank God!

Next up -- making the coffee in the morning. Twiggy does not drink coffee. Ever. Yet, she shows up here at about 7:30 to make the coffee every morning. Yeaaah.

When people steal batteries, pop, CDs, etc., out of the supply closet, I swear she takes that sh*t personally. It's kind of admirable, really. I mean, she's a very honest sort. Except for the part about plotting behind the backs of her coworkers via malicious gossip.

So I really wish she'd leave her desk so I could get a CD out of the closet and make myself a copy of this CD I'm listening to. Geez, lady, can't you go get some chips or pop or SOMETHING in another region of the office? Hmmm...I do hear coins bumping against one another over there. Perhaps she will soon fulfill my wish?

*sigh*

I really wish I was more like Twiggy. Not an exact copy -- I'd hate to be that hooked on QVC, with bill collectors calling so much...but hey, that *was* me, without the QVC part.

Hmmmm...better wrap this up. Damn Program is starting to ruin my snark!

Is This the Beginning of Her Eventual Meltdown?

First there was the DUI, now this. Paris is having a bad week.

The Lost Doily

I have been waiting for months to get a picture of this one. This doily was made based an 1800's pattern that was reproduced by a modern-day crocheter. I saw other doilies similar to it a General Crook House, which was built in the 1800's.

I made this doily for an officemate who wanted a special gift for his wife on their anniversary. It was made to match their kitchen and dining room's new decor. It took about two months and was about two feet wide. :) It is the only doily I have ever been paid to make.

Bad Attitude

My calendar is now decorated with a bunch of small post it notes.

September 11 -- Review hearing for Niece.
The 12th -- Mental status exam for Niece
13th - school pictures, woo hoo!
16th - swimming registration at Burke. She'll *love* that.
18th - open house at her school - client visit, but who cares about that compared to open house?
29th - no school - teacher planning day. My sister's birthday party, which she mightily wants us to attend. I said yes initially but now I wish I hadn't. I don't want to go. Especially after seeing what munchkin is like after seeing her mommy.

Being a parent again has fully taken over my life. I'm cool with it, except on days like today.

Munchkin was fine this morning until it was time to get ready to leave. And we were running late too. Admittedly, my fault. We ended up being together in a stress pressure-cooker where Munchkin was unwilling to put her shoes on and I was unwilling to bend one more inch, until it was apparent that we needed that inch if we were ever going to get out the door. I clocked in with five minutes to spare.

Since we had our second naughtygram last night, there were no extras last night because of that. We had Taco Bell for dinner, which we could ill afford, but I did it anyway. Another way of saying that is that I acted like a petulant child, stomping my foot in the face of someone saying, "Hey. You can't afford that. I don't care what time it is or how tired you are, go home and fix dinner."

Things just haven't gone my way today and my character defects are saying to me that the world revolves around me and how dare the world not do that today? I'm unhappy with myself that I yelled at Munchkin today. I'm unhappy that she has to go to these stupid visits, which greatly disturb her and ruin half of her week. She knew this morning without me telling her that she had a visit today. Once I figured that out, that explained a lot to me about why she was so surly this morning. Even her teacher notices the mood swings after visits with her mom.

She cried bitterly this morning and said that she wants to live with her Mommy. It shouldn't make me feel bad, but I can't help but feel a little hurt that I'm doing all this work and I'm the one taking care of her, and she wants to live with Mommy. I know that sounds ridiculous, but that's just how I feel. I keep it to myself completely and I just hold her and tell her that I'm sorry she's going through all this and that I know it feels bad. I could talk about this with my sponsor, but I know what she'd say -- those feelings are natural and they just are what they are…feelings. It's ok to have feelings and I needn't be ashamed of them.

But I wish they'd go away. I'm sick of feeling this way. I just want to go home and sleep them away.

It Doesn't Feel Too Good to Break the Rules, Does It?

Ah, five year olds and their sleep.

 

Getting between a five year old and the amount of sleep they need (about 11 hours) is like getting between a lion and a freshly killed gazelle. Get ready to be mauled.

 

We had quite a fight on our hands tonight and I learned this lesson. If you have a five year old who doesn't nap during the day and you have them go to bed at 10pm on a school night, you are so screwing yourself. And them. Because the next day, they're going to have a very, very short fuse.

 

And this short fuse may soon lead to you holding their door closed while they look for ways to bust it down. These ways may include a certain blue rolling backpack (read: heavy) that, when she spins around with it a few times and then throws it at the door, will make a nice dent.

 

This, in fact, was what the little darling was doing when I opened her door tonight to try and figure out how the hell I could get her to go to sleep. She was spinning around with this heavy backpack loaded with some knickknacks and whatnot, and when I calmly asked what she was doing, here is the answer I got: "I was going to throw it at that door."

 

"Oh. Well you know that anything that you throw at me or at the door is going to the Goodwill, don't you?" God I feel like a bitch.

 

This little discipline technique decimated her population of My Little Ponies two years ago. She had a habit of throwing them at me when the mood struck. Throwing soon ended. Then hitting and spitting and kicking began. I have a feeling it won't get that far this time.

 

But this time I did have to take a couple of measures. I won't call them drastic. Basically, it involved unscrewing lightbulbs so that her lamps *look* like there's nothing wrong but still mysteriously will not light.

 

At the end, I heard a lot of: "You're making me cry all night!!"

 

"No, sweetie, you did that to yourself." Stroking her forehead, I speak in a low, gentle, calm voice. "It doesn't feel too good to break the rules, does it? I know it's a bummer. Goodnight, I love you." Forehead kiss.

 

End of Scene.

 

I just might be getting the hang of this.