Have you ever been working on something big, working for a long time, working really hard... and maybe there was a little detail you couldn't get right, or some part of the whole that took longer to finish, and you stop finally to take a breath or get a drink or take a day off and you realize at that moment that you had lost sight of what you were working toward? That the whole world had narrowed down to one little problem, one little bit of work that you had to do, and that everything else was lost in the effort to finish that little bit?
How do you move toward completion if that little bit's still not done? How do you regain perspective?
I have been putting a lot of effort into one part of my life, and I'm failing. And I can not live with failure, but I don't know how to succeed or even how to let it go and work on something else for a while. Suggestions?
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Garden pictures!
It's my day off this week, so naturally I wasted a lot of time relaxing - sleeping in, lounging in front of my computer, on the couch with a book, and now back to the computer again. I did get a few things done, however!
In the past week I've pretty well finalized my garden plans for the summer, purchased and planted a lavender seedling and a peppermint seedling (I am ashamed that as a gardener I can NOT get those two plants to grow from seed), and finally got those pictures onto Rick's laptop. As I type this, they're being uploaded to Gmail, so I can email them to myself and show off my awesome accomplishments!
I also planted strawberries today. This is the third or fourth time I've tried to grow strawberries with those little "grow your own" kits. You know the kind: the cute decorative container, the inadequate amounts of fluffy potting soil, and the sad dessicated remains of several strawberry plants which are supposed to magically come back to life when you put them in dirt and add fertilizer. What can I say? The pot was one of those classy glazed ceramic ones with holes in the sides so you can have strawberries coming out all over the place, and the kit was cheap. Cheaper than buying strawberries shipped in from California all summer long, and much cheaper than buying the live, healthy seedlings (some already setting flowers) from the outdoor nursery at a certain large home improvement store. If they fail to grow this year, though, I'm going to spring for pre-started seedlings next spring. There are a lot of plants I might give up on growing, but I will not give up on strawberries!
And now, to make up for the last post's dire lack of pictures, I present to you my very own chunk of Pittsburgh soil!
It doesn't look like much, but this is the future site of the city's best edible landscape! Visible on the edges are the garlic bed and newly planted nasturtiums (on the far end), and on the right side is the porch wall where my tomatoes and beans will be trellised this summer.
My garlic, planted last November. It's coming up healthy and strong at the front of the yard, and I'm -very- excited!
The kitchen garden, with my salvage-built cold frame and a new bed for the peas. In back are sugar snap, in front, heirloom "Little Marvel" bush peas. In the cold frame are "Black-seeded Simpson" lettuce, "Cherry Belle" radishes, and Cherriette radishes. Spinach was on the menu but I didn't have seeds, so I'll be planting that after the first crop of radishes come out.
There you have it - the beginnings of a great year of urban gardening!
In the past week I've pretty well finalized my garden plans for the summer, purchased and planted a lavender seedling and a peppermint seedling (I am ashamed that as a gardener I can NOT get those two plants to grow from seed), and finally got those pictures onto Rick's laptop. As I type this, they're being uploaded to Gmail, so I can email them to myself and show off my awesome accomplishments!
I also planted strawberries today. This is the third or fourth time I've tried to grow strawberries with those little "grow your own" kits. You know the kind: the cute decorative container, the inadequate amounts of fluffy potting soil, and the sad dessicated remains of several strawberry plants which are supposed to magically come back to life when you put them in dirt and add fertilizer. What can I say? The pot was one of those classy glazed ceramic ones with holes in the sides so you can have strawberries coming out all over the place, and the kit was cheap. Cheaper than buying strawberries shipped in from California all summer long, and much cheaper than buying the live, healthy seedlings (some already setting flowers) from the outdoor nursery at a certain large home improvement store. If they fail to grow this year, though, I'm going to spring for pre-started seedlings next spring. There are a lot of plants I might give up on growing, but I will not give up on strawberries!
And now, to make up for the last post's dire lack of pictures, I present to you my very own chunk of Pittsburgh soil!
It doesn't look like much, but this is the future site of the city's best edible landscape! Visible on the edges are the garlic bed and newly planted nasturtiums (on the far end), and on the right side is the porch wall where my tomatoes and beans will be trellised this summer.
My garlic, planted last November. It's coming up healthy and strong at the front of the yard, and I'm -very- excited!
The kitchen garden, with my salvage-built cold frame and a new bed for the peas. In back are sugar snap, in front, heirloom "Little Marvel" bush peas. In the cold frame are "Black-seeded Simpson" lettuce, "Cherry Belle" radishes, and Cherriette radishes. Spinach was on the menu but I didn't have seeds, so I'll be planting that after the first crop of radishes come out.
There you have it - the beginnings of a great year of urban gardening!
Monday, April 11, 2011
I need a new camera.
I did stuff today. It was my only day off after a 7-day work week that started at 8am last Monday, and tomorrow another 7-day work week starts with another 8am meeting. I am not happy with this arrangement.
But even though it was my only day off, which means that I will have no time to just lay around the rest of the week because there is SO MUCH to keep up with around here, I did stuff today. I gardened, mostly. I took advantage of a 30-day trial of the Mother Earth News garden planner to plan my front-yard garden. I cleared out the front beds, added new fertilizer, aerated and pulled dandelions. I planted more radishes, the seedling sugar snap peas and bush peas (an heirloom variety called "Little Marvel" that dad sent to me last year) and the nasturtiums (including an heirloom called "Empress of India" that has gorgeous purplish foliage and promises deep red blossoms). I took pictures of everything - the seed flats full of gorgeous little seedlings prior to planting, the new garden bed and the cold frame I promised to get pictures of last month, and the porch with our patio table finally on it, ready for spring.
But I can't get the pictures uploaded. The camera's CF card works with the printer, but the printer doesn't have any clue how to find my computer to save the pictures. The computer can see the printer, but I can't figure out how to manually access the CF card and the documentation for Ubuntu, while comprehensive, was not written to the standards of simple.wikipedia.org, and is therefore useless to me. I think we have a portable card reader somewhere, but I don't know where (and I may have dreamed up its existence). And the camera's USB connector is missing, presumed buried under something.
So there are no pictures of the garden, and I have concluded that rather than waste my time trying to find the camera connector, the card reader, or another program that will let the desktop interface with the printer, I'm just going to add "camera" to my wish list. Or maybe I'll bother Rick until HE uploads the pictures. I think he knows how.
But even though it was my only day off, which means that I will have no time to just lay around the rest of the week because there is SO MUCH to keep up with around here, I did stuff today. I gardened, mostly. I took advantage of a 30-day trial of the Mother Earth News garden planner to plan my front-yard garden. I cleared out the front beds, added new fertilizer, aerated and pulled dandelions. I planted more radishes, the seedling sugar snap peas and bush peas (an heirloom variety called "Little Marvel" that dad sent to me last year) and the nasturtiums (including an heirloom called "Empress of India" that has gorgeous purplish foliage and promises deep red blossoms). I took pictures of everything - the seed flats full of gorgeous little seedlings prior to planting, the new garden bed and the cold frame I promised to get pictures of last month, and the porch with our patio table finally on it, ready for spring.
But I can't get the pictures uploaded. The camera's CF card works with the printer, but the printer doesn't have any clue how to find my computer to save the pictures. The computer can see the printer, but I can't figure out how to manually access the CF card and the documentation for Ubuntu, while comprehensive, was not written to the standards of simple.wikipedia.org, and is therefore useless to me. I think we have a portable card reader somewhere, but I don't know where (and I may have dreamed up its existence). And the camera's USB connector is missing, presumed buried under something.
So there are no pictures of the garden, and I have concluded that rather than waste my time trying to find the camera connector, the card reader, or another program that will let the desktop interface with the printer, I'm just going to add "camera" to my wish list. Or maybe I'll bother Rick until HE uploads the pictures. I think he knows how.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
What do I want to do?
So much for updating regularly, eh?
Tonight I'm looking for answers, although why I think posting a blog entry for 3 people will give me answers, I don't know. I'm frustrated. I was actually surprised to find, after being hired at a large department store last fall, that I -liked- retail, or at least most of it. A lot had to do with my co-workers, who are friendly people (of course, that kind of job self-selects for that kind of personality). They made me feel at home. My manager was nice, and everything was going smoothly, and there was even a chance I could get a little promotion to part-time commissioned work! I stuck around after the holidays because of an offhand job offer by my manager. That job offer never materialized.
I'm now stuck in a job I don't like quite so much, and that "not liking so much" is quickly turning into "not liking at all", and that's never good for job performance. Not that my manager has been communicating about such tawdry details as job performance. She's avoiding me, and THAT is also not good. Leaving out all the details of what's gone on the last few months, let me just state that if it continues into April/May, I'm going to hand in my 2 weeks' notice and take my chances with unemployment.
I'd rather not, though, which has led me back into job searching... and the inevitable question: What do I even want to do?
Well, it's easy: I want to homestead. That doesn't pay too well, though.
I don't even know where to start looking for a job that I'd fit into! I have a lot of skills, but most of them (writing, basic farm skills, baking) are either underpaid or not in demand, and the rest are underdeveloped (I don't have the "3-5 years experience" preferred for most jobs in my areas of interest). We need money; I can't go back to volunteering no matter how much I'd love to toss my wallet out the window and spend another summer turning compost at the urban farm. I keep tossing around the idea that happiness is worth so much more than money... but then I turn around and look at my beat-up shoes, the ones that I have worn out because I have to be on my feet all day, and I remember how painful being on one's feet all day is when one doesn't have new footwear regularly, and I think "I'd be happier if I had the money for new shoes!", and you can see where that leads.
Maybe it's time to get my act together and start my own damn business. I keep thinking how great it would be to run a camp... but that's the kind of thing that doesn't happen overnight and I'd need a ton of sponsors to get started, and even then - I'm great in a supporting role, but I don't so so well in the lead. I'd rather work as a (well-paid) camp counselor and let someone else deal with the paperwork! :(
Tonight I'm looking for answers, although why I think posting a blog entry for 3 people will give me answers, I don't know. I'm frustrated. I was actually surprised to find, after being hired at a large department store last fall, that I -liked- retail, or at least most of it. A lot had to do with my co-workers, who are friendly people (of course, that kind of job self-selects for that kind of personality). They made me feel at home. My manager was nice, and everything was going smoothly, and there was even a chance I could get a little promotion to part-time commissioned work! I stuck around after the holidays because of an offhand job offer by my manager. That job offer never materialized.
I'm now stuck in a job I don't like quite so much, and that "not liking so much" is quickly turning into "not liking at all", and that's never good for job performance. Not that my manager has been communicating about such tawdry details as job performance. She's avoiding me, and THAT is also not good. Leaving out all the details of what's gone on the last few months, let me just state that if it continues into April/May, I'm going to hand in my 2 weeks' notice and take my chances with unemployment.
I'd rather not, though, which has led me back into job searching... and the inevitable question: What do I even want to do?
Well, it's easy: I want to homestead. That doesn't pay too well, though.
I don't even know where to start looking for a job that I'd fit into! I have a lot of skills, but most of them (writing, basic farm skills, baking) are either underpaid or not in demand, and the rest are underdeveloped (I don't have the "3-5 years experience" preferred for most jobs in my areas of interest). We need money; I can't go back to volunteering no matter how much I'd love to toss my wallet out the window and spend another summer turning compost at the urban farm. I keep tossing around the idea that happiness is worth so much more than money... but then I turn around and look at my beat-up shoes, the ones that I have worn out because I have to be on my feet all day, and I remember how painful being on one's feet all day is when one doesn't have new footwear regularly, and I think "I'd be happier if I had the money for new shoes!", and you can see where that leads.
Maybe it's time to get my act together and start my own damn business. I keep thinking how great it would be to run a camp... but that's the kind of thing that doesn't happen overnight and I'd need a ton of sponsors to get started, and even then - I'm great in a supporting role, but I don't so so well in the lead. I'd rather work as a (well-paid) camp counselor and let someone else deal with the paperwork! :(
Monday, February 21, 2011
The Internet Never Forgets
Found this post made in 2005 shortly after Katrina and the mess she made in New Orleans. I couldn't help but read 2/3 of the comments, too... and then added my own.
Being Poor.
Being poor means passing up the $0.99/lb apples because you can only afford two of them, and that dollar could buy three boxes of ez-mac.
Being poor means fighting with your parents over pre-sliced cheese because it's what all the other kids get in their sandwiches, and you're sick of PBJ.
Being poor means writing "thank-you" letters to six estates which donated to your local scholarship fund, because being thankful is a requirement for getting the money that pays for your college education.
Being poor means watching your amazing, bright, talented sister become an egg donor and put herself at risk for terrible side effects, because it pays $5000 and she can use that to finish college.
Being poor means saving pennies until you can afford one month's rent because you can't give in and live in your car no matter how much more frugal it is, and then crying every month the week before rent is due because you can't imagine how you're going to pay it.
Being poor means hiding it, and then being frowned at for trying to look good or take care of yourself, as though poverty should mean visible suffering - as though the invisible suffering you experience every day isn't enough.
Being poor means making the clothes, the glasses, and the tank of gas you already have last just a -little- bit longer.
Being poor means not wanting to ask for favors, because you're afraid you'll ask one too many times.
Being poor means feeling guilty about taking people up on the offer to "get you something" from a store or food stall, because you know you'll never return the favor.
Being poor means taking less than you could at the staff luncheon so no one will suspect that the pizza is the only meal you'll have today.
Being less poor means even after you have a house and a car with no payments, you take tylenol and ignore the worsening toothaches because you can't afford the dentist yet.
Being less poor means finally owning enough clearance-rack clothing to put together three outfits for work, but not having the money to buy the $100 shoes that would keep your feet from hurting.
Being less poor means skipping the drink when you buy lunch somewhere, and telling yourself that it's because you -chose- to use the water fountain instead.
And being less poor means feeling guilty when someone poorer than you needs something and you can't afford to help, and promising yourself that some day you'll have enough to help everyone...
The comments on the blog post would take a long time to read entirely, but suffice to say: The post was never intended as a "poorer-than-thou" competition - it's a reflection on how poverty strikes in the US, in a country which is often thought to be the richest in the world and is certainly one of the most decadent. It's an attempt to show people who have never experienced poverty what it can look like, and how the "little things" - a vehicle inspection, a nagging cough - can turn into insurmountable obstacles when you don't have the money for a new set of tires, or a doctor, or medicine. It's to get you to remember this above all else: Being poor is not about being lazy or dirty or unmotivated. Being poor is about being ignored, treated like dirt, unable to feed yourself sometimes and yet making too much for food stamps a week later, and through it all trying to keep your chin held high because hope is the only thing they haven't figured out how to package and sell yet (but they're getting close).
Being poor is working retail, hearing numbers like "fifty thousand dollars" being used to refer to daily sales, worrying about your $30 makeup while selling $500 creams to middle-aged women and chatting about their cruise plans. Being poor is coming home to a bowl of ramen.
Being Poor.
Being poor means passing up the $0.99/lb apples because you can only afford two of them, and that dollar could buy three boxes of ez-mac.
Being poor means fighting with your parents over pre-sliced cheese because it's what all the other kids get in their sandwiches, and you're sick of PBJ.
Being poor means writing "thank-you" letters to six estates which donated to your local scholarship fund, because being thankful is a requirement for getting the money that pays for your college education.
Being poor means watching your amazing, bright, talented sister become an egg donor and put herself at risk for terrible side effects, because it pays $5000 and she can use that to finish college.
Being poor means saving pennies until you can afford one month's rent because you can't give in and live in your car no matter how much more frugal it is, and then crying every month the week before rent is due because you can't imagine how you're going to pay it.
Being poor means hiding it, and then being frowned at for trying to look good or take care of yourself, as though poverty should mean visible suffering - as though the invisible suffering you experience every day isn't enough.
Being poor means making the clothes, the glasses, and the tank of gas you already have last just a -little- bit longer.
Being poor means not wanting to ask for favors, because you're afraid you'll ask one too many times.
Being poor means feeling guilty about taking people up on the offer to "get you something" from a store or food stall, because you know you'll never return the favor.
Being poor means taking less than you could at the staff luncheon so no one will suspect that the pizza is the only meal you'll have today.
Being less poor means even after you have a house and a car with no payments, you take tylenol and ignore the worsening toothaches because you can't afford the dentist yet.
Being less poor means finally owning enough clearance-rack clothing to put together three outfits for work, but not having the money to buy the $100 shoes that would keep your feet from hurting.
Being less poor means skipping the drink when you buy lunch somewhere, and telling yourself that it's because you -chose- to use the water fountain instead.
And being less poor means feeling guilty when someone poorer than you needs something and you can't afford to help, and promising yourself that some day you'll have enough to help everyone...
The comments on the blog post would take a long time to read entirely, but suffice to say: The post was never intended as a "poorer-than-thou" competition - it's a reflection on how poverty strikes in the US, in a country which is often thought to be the richest in the world and is certainly one of the most decadent. It's an attempt to show people who have never experienced poverty what it can look like, and how the "little things" - a vehicle inspection, a nagging cough - can turn into insurmountable obstacles when you don't have the money for a new set of tires, or a doctor, or medicine. It's to get you to remember this above all else: Being poor is not about being lazy or dirty or unmotivated. Being poor is about being ignored, treated like dirt, unable to feed yourself sometimes and yet making too much for food stamps a week later, and through it all trying to keep your chin held high because hope is the only thing they haven't figured out how to package and sell yet (but they're getting close).
Being poor is working retail, hearing numbers like "fifty thousand dollars" being used to refer to daily sales, worrying about your $30 makeup while selling $500 creams to middle-aged women and chatting about their cruise plans. Being poor is coming home to a bowl of ramen.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Aw.
I was all cranky today, because I had a rough day at work, developed a headache during the last hour there, got home to a cold, dark house (naturally, The Man was asleep), and found the cat inexplicably locked in the closed-off guest room. It was not a good ending to the day and I didn't feel like cooking, let alone like figuring out what to cook.
But then I went to the cupboard to find something quick to heat and eat, and there on the shelf was the can of organic ravioli he saw at the grocery store last week and brought home for me. There is nothing that says "I Love You" like anticipating someone's needs before they even know them. I am the luckiest woman alive.
But then I went to the cupboard to find something quick to heat and eat, and there on the shelf was the can of organic ravioli he saw at the grocery store last week and brought home for me. There is nothing that says "I Love You" like anticipating someone's needs before they even know them. I am the luckiest woman alive.
Friday, December 24, 2010
On the Eve of This Most Auspicious Holiday:
Yarn Harlot shares some thoughts we should all be thinking.
And remember - whatever your beliefs regarding Christmas, take the time to celebrate the fact that winter is half over (even if it doesn't seem like it quite yet), that you have people around you who love and appreciate you (even if they sometimes don't show it in ways you expect), and that every day is a new day and a new chance for you to make your world and yourself better.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
And remember - whatever your beliefs regarding Christmas, take the time to celebrate the fact that winter is half over (even if it doesn't seem like it quite yet), that you have people around you who love and appreciate you (even if they sometimes don't show it in ways you expect), and that every day is a new day and a new chance for you to make your world and yourself better.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Friday, December 10, 2010
Mmm, Economics.
Farmers get farm subsidies - they are paid to grow certain crops (like corn) and they are sometimes paid not to grow anything at all. This has massively screwed with farm production, skewing it heavily toward subsidized crops (which has far-reaching repercussions beyond a surplus of corn and unused farmland), and has made it difficult for farmers who want to diversify their crops to do so without losing money.
I realized today that unemployment benefits can be described as a work subsidy. We're paying people not to do anything, and we're paying them enough that getting back into the workforce at minimum wage means taking a pay cut, rather like farming eggplant instead of corn means taking a pay cut on the farm. Our system is broken. So how do we fix it? Simply raising the minimum wage won't work, clearly - it will only cause price inflation of basic goods and services (since McD's has to pay you more, their hamburgers will cost more). And dropping unemployment benefits to below the minimum wage would be fought every step of the way through congress. No one wants to lose "free" money!
Seriously though. What, therefore, should we do?
Today's reading assignment, no matter your politics or opinions on poverty:
And we expect people to take these jobs... why?
I realized today that unemployment benefits can be described as a work subsidy. We're paying people not to do anything, and we're paying them enough that getting back into the workforce at minimum wage means taking a pay cut, rather like farming eggplant instead of corn means taking a pay cut on the farm. Our system is broken. So how do we fix it? Simply raising the minimum wage won't work, clearly - it will only cause price inflation of basic goods and services (since McD's has to pay you more, their hamburgers will cost more). And dropping unemployment benefits to below the minimum wage would be fought every step of the way through congress. No one wants to lose "free" money!
Seriously though. What, therefore, should we do?
Today's reading assignment, no matter your politics or opinions on poverty:
And we expect people to take these jobs... why?
Sunday, December 05, 2010
Cognitive Dissonance and LEGO
Cognitive dissonance is what happens when you pull a band-aid out of the box and find a stinkbug sitting on it (I swear they are EVERYWHERE), and your logic circuits take .3 seconds to retrieve the response: "Just a stinkbug, nothing to worry about", while your lizard-brain goes "OHMYGODITLOOKSLIKEASPIDERITSASPIDERAAAAAAHHHHHHRUNLIKEHELL!". And since you can't think two things at once and fight-or-flight beats logic every time, you flail and send the stupid bug flying into the sink before regaining control of yourself and calmly retreating to a bug-free location hoping no one saw you freak out.
Rick got LEGO sets for himself as an early xmas present; because they were buy one, get one half off like every year at Toys R Us. We spent all night after I got home from work sitting at the dining room table, constructing a really cool Jeep-like vehicle complete with working doors and steering, a full trailer and 4-wheeler. Nerd bonding is the best bonding!
Rick got LEGO sets for himself as an early xmas present; because they were buy one, get one half off like every year at Toys R Us. We spent all night after I got home from work sitting at the dining room table, constructing a really cool Jeep-like vehicle complete with working doors and steering, a full trailer and 4-wheeler. Nerd bonding is the best bonding!
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
Whine Wednesday
It's time for.... Whine Wednesday, wherein I moan and complain about all the terrible things that have happened to me and justify my horrible mood. If I remember, I'll try to do a Thankful Thursday tomorrow to make up for the whining.
Sore throat started last night.
The cat/dog woke me up 5 times this morning before 10am.
The dog chewed through yet another pair of underwear last night and tried to play with my only pair of work-appropriate black tights too. I swear she's trying to keep me indoors by eating all my clothing.
Sinuses have been draining icky green snot for days.
This morning it's snowing, and it's the nasty wet kind of snow you get when it's barely freezing outside, and it's forecast to do this all week.
I have work 8:45am - 5pm tomorrow. I won't even see daylight before/after work because of the cloud cover and early sunset. Ack!
It's -cold- in here, and we still haven't fixed the big gap in the back door frame that lets a lot of air in.
Rick's asleep (still) after staying up till god-knows-when playing video games.
I have a headache on top of the sinus issues and sore throat and nausea. Wooo!
Did I mention it's snowing?
Sunday, November 28, 2010
On Adorable Kids
The highlight of my day today? A little boy.
His parents were showing him the cologne as they passed by. He was pumped about this, and was smelling all the different scent cards we had out and giving opinions and being a very good little shopper. When they came around to the register I got him a little sample spray of one of his favorites (with mom's permission, of course). He was so totally thrilled by it. His face lit up, and he held it up to his chest and said in his best manly voice:
"A LITTLE SPRAY FOR A LITTLE MAN LIKE ME!".
Kids rock.
His parents were showing him the cologne as they passed by. He was pumped about this, and was smelling all the different scent cards we had out and giving opinions and being a very good little shopper. When they came around to the register I got him a little sample spray of one of his favorites (with mom's permission, of course). He was so totally thrilled by it. His face lit up, and he held it up to his chest and said in his best manly voice:
"A LITTLE SPRAY FOR A LITTLE MAN LIKE ME!".
Kids rock.
On Crying at Work
Basically, crying at work is a bad idea.
So it's a good thing I haven't yet. I almost did tonight, but I'm sure it was a fluke. I cry VERY easily (I get that tingling-nose, going-to-cry feeling any time the situation makes me look less than perfect, which is a lot of the time), but at work the last three weeks I've been the most cheerful, positive person on the floor. Boundless optimism is at my beck and call! I am not the sad sack of tears that I am at home where no one can see me, because crying is just not good for business! And I was doing very well at being cheerful and rolling with the punches, and I was proud of myself!
Then Black Friday hit, my teenage coworker started dumping her relationship drama on me and wanting advice (Ha!), and the area manager threw a fit today because we hadn't done all the things we should have been doing two weeks ago but which she didn't think to tell us about until Friday, which meant all of us spent the day running frantically around the department to please her (and it didn't work anyway, but if we sat still she would've bitten our heads off). I've worked nonstop since the 22nd, unless you count Thanksgiving as a "day off", which I don't because it was nonstop work here trying to make the house presentable so Rick's grandma could visit without me dying of embarrassment at not being able to keep the house livable. My first actual nothing-to-do day off in a week is tomorrow, and then I got asked to stay an extra hour and help clean up another department. Which is why I almost broke down and sobbed tonight in front of a really nice manager who just happened to get flustered at me.
Thankfully I got a minute alone and pasted my smile back on. I had to laugh the other day when one of the regular salesladies told me that I was always happy. I put on a happy face at work because I like to be liked (although the job's not that bad, so smiling does come easy). It works, but now I'm stuck with the reputation of always being happy... uh-oh. I get the feeling sooner or later I'm going to have a bad day, and they're going to think the world is ending.
So it's a good thing I haven't yet. I almost did tonight, but I'm sure it was a fluke. I cry VERY easily (I get that tingling-nose, going-to-cry feeling any time the situation makes me look less than perfect, which is a lot of the time), but at work the last three weeks I've been the most cheerful, positive person on the floor. Boundless optimism is at my beck and call! I am not the sad sack of tears that I am at home where no one can see me, because crying is just not good for business! And I was doing very well at being cheerful and rolling with the punches, and I was proud of myself!
Then Black Friday hit, my teenage coworker started dumping her relationship drama on me and wanting advice (Ha!), and the area manager threw a fit today because we hadn't done all the things we should have been doing two weeks ago but which she didn't think to tell us about until Friday, which meant all of us spent the day running frantically around the department to please her (and it didn't work anyway, but if we sat still she would've bitten our heads off). I've worked nonstop since the 22nd, unless you count Thanksgiving as a "day off", which I don't because it was nonstop work here trying to make the house presentable so Rick's grandma could visit without me dying of embarrassment at not being able to keep the house livable. My first actual nothing-to-do day off in a week is tomorrow, and then I got asked to stay an extra hour and help clean up another department. Which is why I almost broke down and sobbed tonight in front of a really nice manager who just happened to get flustered at me.
Thankfully I got a minute alone and pasted my smile back on. I had to laugh the other day when one of the regular salesladies told me that I was always happy. I put on a happy face at work because I like to be liked (although the job's not that bad, so smiling does come easy). It works, but now I'm stuck with the reputation of always being happy... uh-oh. I get the feeling sooner or later I'm going to have a bad day, and they're going to think the world is ending.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Boxes
More fun at work today. I was inexplicably happy, and it was easy to be happy because all my coworkers were happy too and we were BUSY for the first time since I started work. We had a lot of gift sets to put together and our manager was frazzled and my full-time coworkers were all over the place finding boxes and printing labels and setting up towers of neatly arranged cologne at the mall entrance. I put together a lot of boxes. Shiny boxes with neatly tied ribbon (my ribbon-tying skills ROCK, yo), colored plastic containers with funky designs, little clear plastic display boxes. Those suckers are a PAIN to unfold (they come flat, and snap open and chew up your knuckles on their nasty stamped-plastic edges).
What amused me even more than boxes, though (yes, I am so easily amused that shoving cologne into shiny boxes works for me) was the fact that I am apparently not supposed to be happy about working seasonal retail and I definitely wasn't -expected- to be happy without some kind of outside influence. Co-workers jokingly tossed ideas back and forth - She's new. It'll wear off. Do you drink? Did something really good happen before work?
Nope, I just had a good day. Until I left, anyway. Then it was cold and windy and I had to wait for my ride (who was late because he was working on the Jeep, yay!), and I got home and the house needed cleaning and I wished I'd stayed in the store with the boxes. Making pleasing little gift boxes is so much more fun than cleaning litterboxes...
What amused me even more than boxes, though (yes, I am so easily amused that shoving cologne into shiny boxes works for me) was the fact that I am apparently not supposed to be happy about working seasonal retail and I definitely wasn't -expected- to be happy without some kind of outside influence. Co-workers jokingly tossed ideas back and forth - She's new. It'll wear off. Do you drink? Did something really good happen before work?
Nope, I just had a good day. Until I left, anyway. Then it was cold and windy and I had to wait for my ride (who was late because he was working on the Jeep, yay!), and I got home and the house needed cleaning and I wished I'd stayed in the store with the boxes. Making pleasing little gift boxes is so much more fun than cleaning litterboxes...
Monday, November 22, 2010
This is a short post.
I really need to quit rambling. My blog entries are so long, even I don't want to go back and re-read them!
So here's a quick update to say I'm still alive; I'm behind on my NaNoWriMo wordcount by nearly 20,000 words, I wrote 6700 words yesterday in a mad bid to regain some sense of control over this month and I am working Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday (BLACK FRIDAY) this week. I'll probably start panicking about this on Tuesday night.
At least working at the Mens' Fragrances counter has provided me with some stories. It's terribly quiet, since cologne does not in fact have massive discounted sales like the clothing departments do. Customers also always seem to show up at the time we are paying the least attention. Granted, when there is -nothing- to do because you've cleaned the glass, tidied the displays, wandered three times around the counters and sampled half the scents it's easy to let your mind drift.
Anyway, Funny Moments #1:
I take great joy in watching most of my older, commissioned (I am not on commission!) co-workers wander aimlessly around the displays while I am helpfully asking the CUSTOMER making an appearance on the other side of the counter if I can help him with something. It's like wiggling a bit of bloody bait in a shark tank the way everyone else jumps and zeros in on the poor unsuspecting shopper. It helps that 4/5 of the ladies I've met so far are shorter than I am, and the gift set boxes we have stacked on all the counters are up to my nose. The others can barely see over them, and rely on me to tell them when people appear. I suppose this is in some way wrong or mean to find it so amusing, but we're all bored as hell and it's probably nicer to address the customer rather than A) wait for the others to notice him or B) wave frantically around the other end of the display for someone else to help him because I'm technically not a salesperson, just a "ringer" (read: cashier).
And Funny Moments #2:
The Prada Guy. He was a late-40s-ish man who came by during one of my long shifts, and since the super-helpful older ladies were at lunch/talking across the aisle at ladies' fragrances (behind another large stack of stuff) I decided I'd take him on. He wanted Prada. Easy enough; we only have one Prada set in stock. I found it after he followed me around two circuits of the cases (cut me some slack, it was like my third day!), which would have been funny enough since having a customer follow my obviously clueless ass around the fragrance counters has clear comedic value but when he found it, the following (approximately) happened:
Prada Guy: OH YES. He proceeds to pick up the tester bottle and stuff the nozzle halfway up his noze while inhaling.*
Me, the awesome saleswoman: We have this great gift set. Only for the holidays! It's got x, y, and z in it! And if you buy, you get a free toiletries bag in either pink or blue!
Prada Guy: Sprays both wrists and his chest with the tester bottle, and holds first one wrist, then the other, then both up to his nose, inhaling deeply each time and almost -moaning- with delight. I'm trying not to giggle at his... enthusiasm. This is the best scent *sniff* they've made in the last thirty years. *sniff, sniff* I love this scent. It is *Sniff* SO *SNIFF* amazing.
Me: So, what do you think? The set's a great buy. It's worth $dollars, which is only $fewdollars more than the bottle on its own. Are you getting just this today?
PG at this point gets the look that I'm beginning to associate with all the hit-and-run "just browsing" customers, which means that no, he's not going to pay for the $80 scent he just bathed in, but I'm one *SNIFF* away from rolling on the carpet, so he's forgiven. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna hit up the cash machine." he says, and hurries off toward menswear (there is definitely no cash machine there!), still sniffing his wrists. He's not to be seen again for the last 4 hours of my shift. By the time I settle myself behind a suitably tall display of gift sets and start giggling, my coworker is back from lunch, and I giggled so hard telling her about him that I think she thought I had been huffing the Prada too.
I can only hope that as things pick up going into the holiday season I get more funny customers and very few of the Mean Ones I've heard about.
*I am not exaggerating. Much. He was really intent on sniffing that bottle.
So here's a quick update to say I'm still alive; I'm behind on my NaNoWriMo wordcount by nearly 20,000 words, I wrote 6700 words yesterday in a mad bid to regain some sense of control over this month and I am working Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday (BLACK FRIDAY) this week. I'll probably start panicking about this on Tuesday night.
At least working at the Mens' Fragrances counter has provided me with some stories. It's terribly quiet, since cologne does not in fact have massive discounted sales like the clothing departments do. Customers also always seem to show up at the time we are paying the least attention. Granted, when there is -nothing- to do because you've cleaned the glass, tidied the displays, wandered three times around the counters and sampled half the scents it's easy to let your mind drift.
Anyway, Funny Moments #1:
I take great joy in watching most of my older, commissioned (I am not on commission!) co-workers wander aimlessly around the displays while I am helpfully asking the CUSTOMER making an appearance on the other side of the counter if I can help him with something. It's like wiggling a bit of bloody bait in a shark tank the way everyone else jumps and zeros in on the poor unsuspecting shopper. It helps that 4/5 of the ladies I've met so far are shorter than I am, and the gift set boxes we have stacked on all the counters are up to my nose. The others can barely see over them, and rely on me to tell them when people appear. I suppose this is in some way wrong or mean to find it so amusing, but we're all bored as hell and it's probably nicer to address the customer rather than A) wait for the others to notice him or B) wave frantically around the other end of the display for someone else to help him because I'm technically not a salesperson, just a "ringer" (read: cashier).
And Funny Moments #2:
The Prada Guy. He was a late-40s-ish man who came by during one of my long shifts, and since the super-helpful older ladies were at lunch/talking across the aisle at ladies' fragrances (behind another large stack of stuff) I decided I'd take him on. He wanted Prada. Easy enough; we only have one Prada set in stock. I found it after he followed me around two circuits of the cases (cut me some slack, it was like my third day!), which would have been funny enough since having a customer follow my obviously clueless ass around the fragrance counters has clear comedic value but when he found it, the following (approximately) happened:
Prada Guy: OH YES. He proceeds to pick up the tester bottle and stuff the nozzle halfway up his noze while inhaling.*
Me, the awesome saleswoman: We have this great gift set. Only for the holidays! It's got x, y, and z in it! And if you buy, you get a free toiletries bag in either pink or blue!
Prada Guy: Sprays both wrists and his chest with the tester bottle, and holds first one wrist, then the other, then both up to his nose, inhaling deeply each time and almost -moaning- with delight. I'm trying not to giggle at his... enthusiasm. This is the best scent *sniff* they've made in the last thirty years. *sniff, sniff* I love this scent. It is *Sniff* SO *SNIFF* amazing.
Me: So, what do you think? The set's a great buy. It's worth $dollars, which is only $fewdollars more than the bottle on its own. Are you getting just this today?
PG at this point gets the look that I'm beginning to associate with all the hit-and-run "just browsing" customers, which means that no, he's not going to pay for the $80 scent he just bathed in, but I'm one *SNIFF* away from rolling on the carpet, so he's forgiven. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna hit up the cash machine." he says, and hurries off toward menswear (there is definitely no cash machine there!), still sniffing his wrists. He's not to be seen again for the last 4 hours of my shift. By the time I settle myself behind a suitably tall display of gift sets and start giggling, my coworker is back from lunch, and I giggled so hard telling her about him that I think she thought I had been huffing the Prada too.
I can only hope that as things pick up going into the holiday season I get more funny customers and very few of the Mean Ones I've heard about.
*I am not exaggerating. Much. He was really intent on sniffing that bottle.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Missing Nature
Having started a seasonal retail position on Saturday, I am not looking forward to this fall/winter. I finally gave in to the need for money, and idealism be damned (for now - after Christmas I probably won't have any more hours with the store, so I'll go back to being unemployed, delivering snarky commentary on the terrible plight of retail workers and dreaming about the awesome jobs I might eventually run into if I just hold out a little longer...)
Anyway, I had yesterday and today off, and after some much-needed sleeping in and some much-enjoyed lounging, I spent this afternoon reading the blog of one of my camp friends' moms, who is an awesome woman and someone I wish I could spend more time with. Unfortunately, she still lives in New York. Fortunately, she's taken up photography as well as hanging around camp and updates several(!) blogs with pictures of the area for me to oooh and ahhh over, including my favorite place in the world - Camp Timbercrest (here is the Timbercrest Blog). I miss that camp SO much. I've written about camp before. I think it's awesome, and Timbercrest is the most awesome camp. I still get teary-eyed when I think about all the time I spent there and all the friends I made, and the fact that I can't just get in the car and drive over makes me feel empty deep down.
See, I really love nature. "The woods" has been my favorite place for many, many years and I habitually seek out quiet, nature-y places when I'm upset. Unfortunately, since I started college I haven't found many of those places. I've been living in cities and large towns, cut off from the best parks by a couple dozen miles (unlike my mom's house, where we had a forest in the back yard), without a car for most of that time, and without anyone to share the trails. For years Rick and I have been saying: "It's spring, we should go camping soon!", and then: "we'll go camping this summer", followed by: "well, maybe we'll make it this fall", and finally: "it's too cold now. We'll definitely go next year." Of course, there's always something in the way of just throwing the sleeping bags in the Jeep and heading for Laurel Highlands. Invariably, I spend all summer humming camp songs and staring at state park websites and all winter wondering if running around in the cold is really as bad as I remember it being and whether any of the parks are open for winter hikes. I keep thinking I might give in and join a local hiking club, but I'd probably feel bad when I showed up with my 6-year-old fraying-at-the-edges hiking boots and plain cheap water bottle, getting winded on a 5-mile "easy" hike while the rest of group is hauling state-of-the-art frame packs and energy gel drinks on 30-mile hikes around the Allegheny park system. Is there a "casual nature walks" club for 20-somethings?
It would be better if I had a camp or a park here that feels as reassuring as Timbercrest did. I might even quit bugging Rick about camping if I could walk or bike to the nearest large stand of trees whenever I needed a nature break. Pittsburgh's very own Riverview park is within dog-walking distance and is a pretty big park, for being located on the edge of a city... but you can still hear the cars on the bordering highways when you're wandering the trails there. Call me a sentimental fool, but city noises just ruin the whole "oneness with nature" thing. And I don't have any hiking/biking/exploring buddies, which is to say: I'm lazy, and without anyone to encourage me to go out and explore the city's green spaces (and there are a lot!), I will sit in the house, complaining about the cold and the fact that it's supposed to rain all week and that I'm sore and tired from work, etc, and I won't be able to drag myself out for that utterly revitalizing walk. November is a lonely time for walking by one's self. Only nuts go out on a day like today, when it's grey and muddy from yesterday's rain, and windy and only 45*. I'm a nut, but I'm a lazy nut. I need other nuts to drag me out of my shell (pun intended).
So: Anyone local feel like making a new friend for some trail walking this winter? I don't bite (hard), and I can identify poison ivy!
Anyway, I had yesterday and today off, and after some much-needed sleeping in and some much-enjoyed lounging, I spent this afternoon reading the blog of one of my camp friends' moms, who is an awesome woman and someone I wish I could spend more time with. Unfortunately, she still lives in New York. Fortunately, she's taken up photography as well as hanging around camp and updates several(!) blogs with pictures of the area for me to oooh and ahhh over, including my favorite place in the world - Camp Timbercrest (here is the Timbercrest Blog). I miss that camp SO much. I've written about camp before. I think it's awesome, and Timbercrest is the most awesome camp. I still get teary-eyed when I think about all the time I spent there and all the friends I made, and the fact that I can't just get in the car and drive over makes me feel empty deep down.
See, I really love nature. "The woods" has been my favorite place for many, many years and I habitually seek out quiet, nature-y places when I'm upset. Unfortunately, since I started college I haven't found many of those places. I've been living in cities and large towns, cut off from the best parks by a couple dozen miles (unlike my mom's house, where we had a forest in the back yard), without a car for most of that time, and without anyone to share the trails. For years Rick and I have been saying: "It's spring, we should go camping soon!", and then: "we'll go camping this summer", followed by: "well, maybe we'll make it this fall", and finally: "it's too cold now. We'll definitely go next year." Of course, there's always something in the way of just throwing the sleeping bags in the Jeep and heading for Laurel Highlands. Invariably, I spend all summer humming camp songs and staring at state park websites and all winter wondering if running around in the cold is really as bad as I remember it being and whether any of the parks are open for winter hikes. I keep thinking I might give in and join a local hiking club, but I'd probably feel bad when I showed up with my 6-year-old fraying-at-the-edges hiking boots and plain cheap water bottle, getting winded on a 5-mile "easy" hike while the rest of group is hauling state-of-the-art frame packs and energy gel drinks on 30-mile hikes around the Allegheny park system. Is there a "casual nature walks" club for 20-somethings?
It would be better if I had a camp or a park here that feels as reassuring as Timbercrest did. I might even quit bugging Rick about camping if I could walk or bike to the nearest large stand of trees whenever I needed a nature break. Pittsburgh's very own Riverview park is within dog-walking distance and is a pretty big park, for being located on the edge of a city... but you can still hear the cars on the bordering highways when you're wandering the trails there. Call me a sentimental fool, but city noises just ruin the whole "oneness with nature" thing. And I don't have any hiking/biking/exploring buddies, which is to say: I'm lazy, and without anyone to encourage me to go out and explore the city's green spaces (and there are a lot!), I will sit in the house, complaining about the cold and the fact that it's supposed to rain all week and that I'm sore and tired from work, etc, and I won't be able to drag myself out for that utterly revitalizing walk. November is a lonely time for walking by one's self. Only nuts go out on a day like today, when it's grey and muddy from yesterday's rain, and windy and only 45*. I'm a nut, but I'm a lazy nut. I need other nuts to drag me out of my shell (pun intended).
So: Anyone local feel like making a new friend for some trail walking this winter? I don't bite (hard), and I can identify poison ivy!
Monday, November 08, 2010
I forgot to title this post.
I haven't been feeling that great the last few days. Actually, I haven't been feeling great the last few months. I'm mopey, I'm solemn, I'm drab. I've been avoiding all my chores (although this is usual for me, and it's hard to tell whether it's gotten worse or I've just gotten more aware of it now that we own a house and I can't blame the landlord for any of the home maintenance issues that keep popping up and getting avoided because I am lazy and don't need to start yet another project before we finish the guest room and the braided rag rug for the basement and getting the dryer hooked up and figuring out whether we want to tile the bathroom wall opposite the tub) and fighting off sinus infections and sleeping way more than is usual or healthy (and I'm not sure why, but I can't afford to go to a doctor just because I'm sleepy), and griping about cold weather setting in and generally not feeling like doing anything, even taking the dog to the park, which is sad because she LOVES the park and she LOVES going on walks and I have decided that if I want to get into any kind of shape that isn't "round", I am going to need to make some lifestyle changes, and I had expected that getting a dog would help me do that. Boy, was I ever wrong. I was sad to discover that dogs acquire the habits of their owners, and not the other way 'round, so dragging myself out for walks is still just as difficult, only I get twice the guilt trip (once from myself and once from the dog) when I don't do it.
Anyway, at least SarahThe is making me feel better. I found her blog a few months ago and bookmarked it because I wanted to read the archives. Reading about other peoples' lives makes me feel better. I am an introvert and a people-watcher, and I am a very dedicated blog stalker, when I'm feeling up to reading. So tonight I finally felt like reading, and got through several pages of blog posts from 2008, and with each one I've been smiling a little more and giggling a little more. SarahThe is funny, and fresh, and honest, and I am enjoying reading her posts from 2008.
The dog is also making me feel better. Mystra is not generally my go-to girl for making me smile, since mostly she does what we do - flops around the house, plays games with the cats and eats. She whines when she has to go out and barks to get our attention when the cats try to sleep on top of the fridge. She's very enthusiastic about guarding the house from both teenagers down the street and cats on the fridge. She has recently figured out, however, that she's able to get our attention for play too! And because we have recently changed our schedules (we are prone to staying up until 3am when not otherwise occupied by work, and the husband JUST got a job), she is used to playing with us long after normal people with day jobs have put their dogs to bed.
So tonight, just now at 12:20 AM, when I should have been in bed 2 hours ago because I have an interview on Tuesday morning and need to be awake before noon for once, she came walking up to my desk, fixed me with the "EXCUSE ME" stare, and proclaimed, loudly: "IT'S PLAYTIME." Then she started chewing on my hand, because when there are no toys nearby her idea of play (thanks to my ever-thoughtful husband, who thinks that wrestling with the dog is the best fun ever and should be encouraged never mind that she's 40 lbs of enthusiasm and teeth!) is to play catch-the-hand. She's never quite sure what to do when she catches it, because we long ago taught her that people are not for chewing, but the catching instinct is still very much intact, so she'll put my hand in her mouth and then spit it out, and as soon as the hand moves she tries to catch it again. It's often bad for my hands, since despite her best intentions I almost always come out of it with tooth imprints when she misjudges a pounce, but for some reason (I blame SarahThe and Scout's antics), I giggled at her tonight. A lot.
I should probably go to bed. There are, as usual, a lot of things in my head that want to be put down in the nice white space here, but I should probably let them ferment a little more. I have discovered that my thoughts are like wine; when they haven't been aged properly and the miscellaneous bits haven't settled out, they're often terrible.
Anyway, at least SarahThe is making me feel better. I found her blog a few months ago and bookmarked it because I wanted to read the archives. Reading about other peoples' lives makes me feel better. I am an introvert and a people-watcher, and I am a very dedicated blog stalker, when I'm feeling up to reading. So tonight I finally felt like reading, and got through several pages of blog posts from 2008, and with each one I've been smiling a little more and giggling a little more. SarahThe is funny, and fresh, and honest, and I am enjoying reading her posts from 2008.
The dog is also making me feel better. Mystra is not generally my go-to girl for making me smile, since mostly she does what we do - flops around the house, plays games with the cats and eats. She whines when she has to go out and barks to get our attention when the cats try to sleep on top of the fridge. She's very enthusiastic about guarding the house from both teenagers down the street and cats on the fridge. She has recently figured out, however, that she's able to get our attention for play too! And because we have recently changed our schedules (we are prone to staying up until 3am when not otherwise occupied by work, and the husband JUST got a job), she is used to playing with us long after normal people with day jobs have put their dogs to bed.
So tonight, just now at 12:20 AM, when I should have been in bed 2 hours ago because I have an interview on Tuesday morning and need to be awake before noon for once, she came walking up to my desk, fixed me with the "EXCUSE ME" stare, and proclaimed, loudly: "IT'S PLAYTIME." Then she started chewing on my hand, because when there are no toys nearby her idea of play (thanks to my ever-thoughtful husband, who thinks that wrestling with the dog is the best fun ever and should be encouraged never mind that she's 40 lbs of enthusiasm and teeth!) is to play catch-the-hand. She's never quite sure what to do when she catches it, because we long ago taught her that people are not for chewing, but the catching instinct is still very much intact, so she'll put my hand in her mouth and then spit it out, and as soon as the hand moves she tries to catch it again. It's often bad for my hands, since despite her best intentions I almost always come out of it with tooth imprints when she misjudges a pounce, but for some reason (I blame SarahThe and Scout's antics), I giggled at her tonight. A lot.
I should probably go to bed. There are, as usual, a lot of things in my head that want to be put down in the nice white space here, but I should probably let them ferment a little more. I have discovered that my thoughts are like wine; when they haven't been aged properly and the miscellaneous bits haven't settled out, they're often terrible.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
I know it's been a while since I last wrote. I haven't much felt like sharing thoughts. A lot of what's been going through my head has been personal (read: boring to you, the reader) and sometimes incredibly painful, and I find myself unwilling to put it into words. It's superstition... if I think it, it might not be true, but if I say it out loud and no one disagrees (or worse, someone agrees), I'm stuck with it. There's also the fact that a lot of my questions have simple answers that I don't like, and I know what I want the answers to be instead, and I'm still looking for someone who will confirm my bias rather than ask whoever is closest and get an answer I don't like. Does it make it better or worse that I recognize my own bias-seeking? I'm fighting to stay in my own little world of illusion because I don't like what's outside.
So I failed the Boundless Summer challenge. I knew from the start that I probably wouldn't finish it despite my saying otherwise. I figured that eventually I'd hit a challenge that was too xtian for me; that one of the challenges would require praying for someone I hated or standing up for a belief I don't hold and that I'd just quit in disgust. What actually happened was that one of the early challenges required calling a friend and bringing up how we could be a better friend to them, which is a rather awkward thing to ask someone. Not only have I lost contact with most of my friends since the end of college, I also hate phones. Talking on the phone makes me intensely uncomfortable (thank you, Neil Gaiman for that turn of phrase... (via Coraline)
). I'm pretty sure I could go into a psychiatrist's office and come out with a diagnosis of Social Anxiety Disorder and a prescription for Xanax. Of course, I don't have the money to go get myself diagnosed, so whether or not I have a disorder is beside the point. The point is that I don't like phones, so I put it off. And put it off. And put it off. And by the time I had decided, after laying in bed one night, that I really ought to just get it over with (because it couldn't possibly be as bad as I imagined, right?) it was 2 weeks later and I'd been smacked with a few more minor upsets, it was really warm, and didn't feel like continuing. I'm working on a half-baked plan to go back and finish it on my own time at some later date, skipping the phone (of course). We'll see how that goes.
In the meantime, I've been waiting impatiently for the unemployment office to finish its five-month-long "investigation" into the conditions under which I was "terminated" (I hate that word. I'm not a computer program! I'm a living being and I have feelings, damnit!). They finished it last week and sent me out a pair of nice, impersonal letters - one regarding my last call in July (when they told me they'd file a couple weeks I missed, and promised to 'hurry' the investigation) to tell me that no, I wasn't getting compensated for the weeks that I forgot to file/couldn't file due to lack of internet access/working on the house because I didn't have a good enough reason for missing the filing dates. The second letter told me I wasn't getting anything at all. Five months of waiting. FIVE MONTHS. They ruled that because I "should have known" the rule which the company states that I broke, I'm not allowed to be compensated. While logically I understand why the system works this way, I can't help but feel like I'm utterly worthless now because on top of the anguish caused by my mistake and subsequent firing, the denial letter after five months of not-quite-daring-to-hope tells me in no uncertain terms that I'm a terrible human being and don't deserve help, regardless of the fact that I only made one mistake. Regardless of the fact that I would have gotten down on my knees and -begged- to keep my job, that I apologized, that I had no history of stupid mistakes like that and that I did learn from it. In the eyes of bureaucracy, error is error, no matter the cause and no matter the conditions. If I had been fired without breaking a rule, even if I had been the least useful member of the company previous to my firing, I probably would've received full payment within two weeks of filing. That stings, and it's the typeset equivalent of a whip to my flagging self-confidence.
While I'm afraid to put my resume out there (especially after my laptop was dropped and the hard drive broken three months ago - we only just managed to recover some of the files last night and in the mean time I didn't find it worthwhile to re-create my resume and references from the much older versions I had saved online), I did land a 'job' last month. I'm now a freelance writer doing short local articles for Examiner.com. The pay might as well be nonexistent but it's something to do which ties neatly into the volunteer work I was already doing (I'm writing about urban agriculture). I figure eventually I'll either get tired of it and move on to something new, or find a new client with a higher pay scale. Maybe in 10 years I'll be able to make a living off my writing... a girl can dream, right?
Speaking of volunteering: Fall is upon us, which means volunteering is winding down. The Tuesday afternoon sessions are done and now there's just Thursdays, which are harvest and farm market days. I go in the mornings now, and pick tomatoes and okra and swiss chard to sell at the market. I don't help with the afternoon markets, because they're usually the most popular volunteer times and there are plenty of others who actually need the volunteer hours for senior projects or community service orders. Still, I like the harvesting. It should last through November, when we'll plant the last of the garlic (did you know that planting garlic in the fall is best, because it overwinters and then comes up earlier and bigger in the spring?). Winter work is intermittent, from what I hear, and I'm not sure I'll be needed, so I expect a long, boring winter as usual. I hate winter. The highlight of the entire time is NaNoWriMo, and I'm not even sure why it's a highlight any more, since I've won once in 7 years and haven't really learned much from the experience.
The house isn't ready for winter, either. We have a lot of work to do. The last big rain we had soaked through wall under the bathroom glass-block window; the shingles outside have been missing since before we moved in but we didn't realize the damage was that bad. Of course, there was a massive colony of carpenter ants under that same window sill, so the wood there already needed replacing. Apparently, the water damage in that wall has been ongoing. We can't afford to replace the entire wall and I'm hoping we won't have to. For now, we'll probably try to replace the few feet under the window where the ant damage was most obvious, put up new shingles on the outside, add a vapor barrier to the inside to protect the new cement board and tile and pray that there aren't any other leaks we're not seeing.
In more positive news, I'm making a braided rag rug for the wash area in the basement. I hate cold, concrete floors so it's a selfish measure more than anything else, but it uses some of our old clothing that wasn't good enough to be donated. I'm hoping to finish it by the end of the week, barring severe boredom from trying to sew it all together by hand. I figure that even if the rest of the house is unfinished when the snows come, I'll at least have the satisfaction of not freezing my toes off when I do the laundry. So: look for pictures soon. You may now proceed to leave fawning comments regarding my obvious prowess with bits of fabric.
So I failed the Boundless Summer challenge. I knew from the start that I probably wouldn't finish it despite my saying otherwise. I figured that eventually I'd hit a challenge that was too xtian for me; that one of the challenges would require praying for someone I hated or standing up for a belief I don't hold and that I'd just quit in disgust. What actually happened was that one of the early challenges required calling a friend and bringing up how we could be a better friend to them, which is a rather awkward thing to ask someone. Not only have I lost contact with most of my friends since the end of college, I also hate phones. Talking on the phone makes me intensely uncomfortable (thank you, Neil Gaiman for that turn of phrase... (via Coraline)
). I'm pretty sure I could go into a psychiatrist's office and come out with a diagnosis of Social Anxiety Disorder and a prescription for Xanax. Of course, I don't have the money to go get myself diagnosed, so whether or not I have a disorder is beside the point. The point is that I don't like phones, so I put it off. And put it off. And put it off. And by the time I had decided, after laying in bed one night, that I really ought to just get it over with (because it couldn't possibly be as bad as I imagined, right?) it was 2 weeks later and I'd been smacked with a few more minor upsets, it was really warm, and didn't feel like continuing. I'm working on a half-baked plan to go back and finish it on my own time at some later date, skipping the phone (of course). We'll see how that goes.In the meantime, I've been waiting impatiently for the unemployment office to finish its five-month-long "investigation" into the conditions under which I was "terminated" (I hate that word. I'm not a computer program! I'm a living being and I have feelings, damnit!). They finished it last week and sent me out a pair of nice, impersonal letters - one regarding my last call in July (when they told me they'd file a couple weeks I missed, and promised to 'hurry' the investigation) to tell me that no, I wasn't getting compensated for the weeks that I forgot to file/couldn't file due to lack of internet access/working on the house because I didn't have a good enough reason for missing the filing dates. The second letter told me I wasn't getting anything at all. Five months of waiting. FIVE MONTHS. They ruled that because I "should have known" the rule which the company states that I broke, I'm not allowed to be compensated. While logically I understand why the system works this way, I can't help but feel like I'm utterly worthless now because on top of the anguish caused by my mistake and subsequent firing, the denial letter after five months of not-quite-daring-to-hope tells me in no uncertain terms that I'm a terrible human being and don't deserve help, regardless of the fact that I only made one mistake. Regardless of the fact that I would have gotten down on my knees and -begged- to keep my job, that I apologized, that I had no history of stupid mistakes like that and that I did learn from it. In the eyes of bureaucracy, error is error, no matter the cause and no matter the conditions. If I had been fired without breaking a rule, even if I had been the least useful member of the company previous to my firing, I probably would've received full payment within two weeks of filing. That stings, and it's the typeset equivalent of a whip to my flagging self-confidence.
While I'm afraid to put my resume out there (especially after my laptop was dropped and the hard drive broken three months ago - we only just managed to recover some of the files last night and in the mean time I didn't find it worthwhile to re-create my resume and references from the much older versions I had saved online), I did land a 'job' last month. I'm now a freelance writer doing short local articles for Examiner.com. The pay might as well be nonexistent but it's something to do which ties neatly into the volunteer work I was already doing (I'm writing about urban agriculture). I figure eventually I'll either get tired of it and move on to something new, or find a new client with a higher pay scale. Maybe in 10 years I'll be able to make a living off my writing... a girl can dream, right?
Speaking of volunteering: Fall is upon us, which means volunteering is winding down. The Tuesday afternoon sessions are done and now there's just Thursdays, which are harvest and farm market days. I go in the mornings now, and pick tomatoes and okra and swiss chard to sell at the market. I don't help with the afternoon markets, because they're usually the most popular volunteer times and there are plenty of others who actually need the volunteer hours for senior projects or community service orders. Still, I like the harvesting. It should last through November, when we'll plant the last of the garlic (did you know that planting garlic in the fall is best, because it overwinters and then comes up earlier and bigger in the spring?). Winter work is intermittent, from what I hear, and I'm not sure I'll be needed, so I expect a long, boring winter as usual. I hate winter. The highlight of the entire time is NaNoWriMo, and I'm not even sure why it's a highlight any more, since I've won once in 7 years and haven't really learned much from the experience.
The house isn't ready for winter, either. We have a lot of work to do. The last big rain we had soaked through wall under the bathroom glass-block window; the shingles outside have been missing since before we moved in but we didn't realize the damage was that bad. Of course, there was a massive colony of carpenter ants under that same window sill, so the wood there already needed replacing. Apparently, the water damage in that wall has been ongoing. We can't afford to replace the entire wall and I'm hoping we won't have to. For now, we'll probably try to replace the few feet under the window where the ant damage was most obvious, put up new shingles on the outside, add a vapor barrier to the inside to protect the new cement board and tile and pray that there aren't any other leaks we're not seeing.
In more positive news, I'm making a braided rag rug for the wash area in the basement. I hate cold, concrete floors so it's a selfish measure more than anything else, but it uses some of our old clothing that wasn't good enough to be donated. I'm hoping to finish it by the end of the week, barring severe boredom from trying to sew it all together by hand. I figure that even if the rest of the house is unfinished when the snows come, I'll at least have the satisfaction of not freezing my toes off when I do the laundry. So: look for pictures soon. You may now proceed to leave fawning comments regarding my obvious prowess with bits of fabric.
Thursday, September 02, 2010
Some days, I cry for humanity.
I'm all about saving the world, one person at a time... but this? This is just sickening and I don't think my comment will be posted, but even if it does, I'm re-posting it here because I think more of us need to speak up against the irrational hatred on all sides of the political mudslinging ring.
Comment as follows is the exact wording left on "No Left Turnz":
I care more about my cats than about most people because most people don't give a flying... I'm not even going to finish that sentence. Let's just say that until we all stop flinging mud at each other in selfish little "No, I'M right!" squabbles, I'll keep enjoying the company of my non-judgmental little kitten more than that of the selfish, miserable, disconnected human race. I still love humanity dearly and I still work every day to try to make my world better and make the people around me healthy, happy, and glad to have me around... but I despair of my cause every time someone posts something like this miserable diatribe, because it speaks to the human tendency of "Us vs Them" so strongly and I would give my life to see that tendency wiped out. WHY must we divide ourselves?
I'm by no means insane but I do love nature. Does that mean I am a target for your hatred? Should I be embracing stainless steel and concrete instead? I've never heard the term "skyscraper-hugger", but is that what we should aspire to be? Just because a couple of bad eggs jumped into the "environmentalist" basket, am I supposed to shun the label entirely? Aren't hunters and farmers environmentalists? If not, what should I call them?
This entire blog is really the epitome of selfishness and hatred. The devil's in the details, so to speak - and this little detail, this little corner of the web, is perpetrating the exact kind of hatred and divisive thinking that prevents all of us from reaching that mythical "better tomorrow". Instead of wasting your time spreading hatred online, why aren't you out helping your community in whichever way you feel you can serve them best?
I do not hate you, but I am ashamed for you. You are the reason I will never call myself a conservative OR a liberal. I refuse to associate myself with any party that agrees that hatred and slander is a good use of its time and energy, and I cry for those who are too wrapped up in tearing down what they are opposing to work toward what they promote.
Comment as follows is the exact wording left on "No Left Turnz":
I care more about my cats than about most people because most people don't give a flying... I'm not even going to finish that sentence. Let's just say that until we all stop flinging mud at each other in selfish little "No, I'M right!" squabbles, I'll keep enjoying the company of my non-judgmental little kitten more than that of the selfish, miserable, disconnected human race. I still love humanity dearly and I still work every day to try to make my world better and make the people around me healthy, happy, and glad to have me around... but I despair of my cause every time someone posts something like this miserable diatribe, because it speaks to the human tendency of "Us vs Them" so strongly and I would give my life to see that tendency wiped out. WHY must we divide ourselves?
I'm by no means insane but I do love nature. Does that mean I am a target for your hatred? Should I be embracing stainless steel and concrete instead? I've never heard the term "skyscraper-hugger", but is that what we should aspire to be? Just because a couple of bad eggs jumped into the "environmentalist" basket, am I supposed to shun the label entirely? Aren't hunters and farmers environmentalists? If not, what should I call them?
This entire blog is really the epitome of selfishness and hatred. The devil's in the details, so to speak - and this little detail, this little corner of the web, is perpetrating the exact kind of hatred and divisive thinking that prevents all of us from reaching that mythical "better tomorrow". Instead of wasting your time spreading hatred online, why aren't you out helping your community in whichever way you feel you can serve them best?
I do not hate you, but I am ashamed for you. You are the reason I will never call myself a conservative OR a liberal. I refuse to associate myself with any party that agrees that hatred and slander is a good use of its time and energy, and I cry for those who are too wrapped up in tearing down what they are opposing to work toward what they promote.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Short update
I'm still alive. I've had some thoughts stewing for a while that I'll be putting down later.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Something to think about next time you crave "fast food".
From a book I picked up at the library, after watching the documentary "Food, Inc". I highly suggest both the film and the book if you're really interested in the author's realization "that the straightforward question "What should I eat?" could no longer be answered without first addressing two other even more straightforward questions: "What am I eating? And where in the world did it come from?".
(reflections on a McDonald's meal)
"In truth, my cheeseburger's relationship to beef seemed nearly as metaphorical as the nugget's relationship to a chicken. Eating it, I had to remind myself that there was an actual cow involved in this meal - most likely a burned-out old dairy cow (the source of most fast-food beef) but possibly bits and pieces of a steer... Part of the appeal of hamburgers and nuggets is that their boneless abstractions allow us to forget we're eating animals. I'd been on the feedlot in Garden City a few months earlier, yet this experience of cattle was so far removed from that one as to be taking place in a different dimension. No, I could not taste the feed corn or the petroleum or the antibiotics or the hormones - or the feedlot manure. Yet while "A Full Serving of Nutrition Facts" did not enumerate these facts, they too have gone into the making of this hamburger, are part of its natural history. That perhaps is what the industrial food chain does best: obscure the histories of the foods it produces by processing them to such an extent that they appear as pure products of culture rather than nature - things made from plants and animals. Despite the blizzard of information contained in the helpful McDonald's flyer - the thousands of words and numbers specifying ingredients and portion sizes, calories and nutrients - all this food remains perfectly opaque. Where does it come from? It comes from McDonald's.
But that's not so. It comes from refrigerated trucks and from warehouses, from slaughterhouses, from factory farms in towns like Garden City, Kansas, from ranches in Sturgis, South Dakota, from food science laboratories in Oak Brook, Illinois, from flavor companies on the New Jersey Turnpike, from petroleum refineries, from processing plants owned by AGM and Cargill, from grain elevators in towns like Jefferson, and, at the end of that long and tortuous trail, from a field of corn and soybeans farmed by George Naylor in Churdan, Iowa."
Pollan, Michael. The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals. New York: Penguin Press, 2006. pp 114-115.
(reflections on a McDonald's meal)
"In truth, my cheeseburger's relationship to beef seemed nearly as metaphorical as the nugget's relationship to a chicken. Eating it, I had to remind myself that there was an actual cow involved in this meal - most likely a burned-out old dairy cow (the source of most fast-food beef) but possibly bits and pieces of a steer... Part of the appeal of hamburgers and nuggets is that their boneless abstractions allow us to forget we're eating animals. I'd been on the feedlot in Garden City a few months earlier, yet this experience of cattle was so far removed from that one as to be taking place in a different dimension. No, I could not taste the feed corn or the petroleum or the antibiotics or the hormones - or the feedlot manure. Yet while "A Full Serving of Nutrition Facts" did not enumerate these facts, they too have gone into the making of this hamburger, are part of its natural history. That perhaps is what the industrial food chain does best: obscure the histories of the foods it produces by processing them to such an extent that they appear as pure products of culture rather than nature - things made from plants and animals. Despite the blizzard of information contained in the helpful McDonald's flyer - the thousands of words and numbers specifying ingredients and portion sizes, calories and nutrients - all this food remains perfectly opaque. Where does it come from? It comes from McDonald's.
But that's not so. It comes from refrigerated trucks and from warehouses, from slaughterhouses, from factory farms in towns like Garden City, Kansas, from ranches in Sturgis, South Dakota, from food science laboratories in Oak Brook, Illinois, from flavor companies on the New Jersey Turnpike, from petroleum refineries, from processing plants owned by AGM and Cargill, from grain elevators in towns like Jefferson, and, at the end of that long and tortuous trail, from a field of corn and soybeans farmed by George Naylor in Churdan, Iowa."
Pollan, Michael. The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals. New York: Penguin Press, 2006. pp 114-115.
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