2 1/2 months later

I'm not good at doing much lately except for drinking Miller 64 and enjoying summer.  I have spent the usual amount of time surfing the net and stalking my favorite bloggers and managed to keep myself amused.  Since regaining my vision, I read all three of the book in the Hunger Games trilogy.  I am still nursing a book hangover having just completed Mockingjay about six hours ago.  There has been an abundance of yard work, gardening and beer drinking bocce ball.  A few parties here and there and the usual douchebaggery that goes on living with three males.  The testosterone levels increased for the last month with the visit of my husband's almost-12-year-old son (that would equal 11 but this is the age he presents himself).  Needless to say there has also been an increase in horror movie watching, WWE, video games and outings to stock car races. 

I also feel like I just woke up the inner-Nikki.  By that, I mean the me that used to be me prior to being 30-somethingish.  The me who was more wanton and spontaneous.   I feel so frustrated with life events that are outside of my control that I have just had to start accepting them for what they are and move on in spite of what that may mean.  Changes are coming.  Not sure when but they are.  It's rather like forecasting a storm by the feelings in your bones.  Mine is more like a storm in my head and heart that has been brewing for way too long.  Grab an umbrella and hold on tight.  

Whatever

Is it wrong to mock your children?  If so, I have been a bad mother for quite some time.  In my house it is not uncommon for the boys to say my name like "mmmmooohhhhhmm" and for me to respond with their name in the same tone.  When I have had it with bad attitudes they are exhibiting I start answering their questions in the same manner. 

"Mom, when is dinner?"  

"Whatever." 

"No, Mom, what is for dinner?"  

"Whatever."  

"Mom, come on, what are we having for dinner."  

"Why do you have to ask me so many questions?  I can't think....."

A few weeks ago, I got so frustrated at feeding the children and having them act like dogs that get fed and come running to their dishes only to run away away again after scarfing down their food, I just didn't make dinner.  Not at all.  It was after 8:30 when my oldest son came out and asked about dinner.  My husband informed him that Mom wasn't making anything because she was tired of the way they expect to be fed and don't interact with me unless forced.  He looks at me.  The younger one stands by his side, eyes open wide..I unleashed.  Why do I have to go in their rooms to talk to them?  Why do I have to force conversations?  They hadn't been asking me anything or talking to me unless they wanted something.  After they get answers they disappear to their rooms to play on ipods, xbox, blah, blah.  Why should I cook dinner for someone who doesn't care back?  I wouldn't cook dinner for dad if he ignored me all the time.  Why are they different?  They had cereal that evening.  I got the response I wanted because now they make a point to come out of their caves (aka bedrooms) and at least say "hello" when I get home at night.

Occasionally, I go on strike to make a point.  Sometimes this affects my husband, sometimes not.  It can be the little things that I get tired of doing without others pitching in.  Laundry.  Dishes.  Grocery shopping.  Once they realize it, they pitch in and life returns to normal.  Should this even happen?  Do other mothers go through this?  I don't care who says parenting is wonderful.  It makes me want to drink.

The "Eyes" Have it

February sucks!  I hate it.  It has not been a good month for me.  I will be happy when it is over.  It is a good thing it is the shortest month because it may end up killing me.  I think this leap-year of 29 days is crap.  I would prefer this was a normal year.  

On February 1st, I woke up with what I thought was allergies and my left eye was red and watering.  On February 2nd, I woke up with my left eye swollen and feeling like it was popping out of the socket.  It wasn't watering.  It was like a hose was hooked up to it due to the amount of tears that were streaming from it.  It was blood red.  The light was excruciating.  I had to fashion a makeshift eye patch out of a silk scarf and call my best friend to pick the kids up and take them to school.  There was no way I could drive.  I couldn't even keep my eye open and all light seemed to feel like a knife twisting in my cornea.   Moving my eye felt like have a muscle strain in my head.   Horrid!  I took my first sick day at work.   At least it was for a good reason...

This is how I felt the first morning

I found an eye doctor and a diagnosis that day.   The doctor said I had Iritis (eye-right-us).  It is an inflammation of the iris.  In me--that is the blue part of my eye.  It began to swell.  The pupil couldn't constrict or dilate due to the inflammation. I learned that even if one eye is closed (or covered with a patch or a silk scarf) that the eye will still react to light when the seeing eye does.  That explains the constant pain and watering even though it was covered.  I was prescribed steroid eye drops and another to dilate my pupil.  It started to get better.  I went in for a follow up the next Monday.  The doctor said everything looked good and to start tapering the dosage.  So I did.  Then things started to get progressively worse.  A week later I was back to where I had been two weeks prior.  I was referred to a specialist.

The specialist said the inflammation had gotten ahead of the medication.  Even though I had dilating drops, my pupil was not dilated.  My vision had a white blur which was caused by the build up of white blood cells in the eye.  My pupil couldn't move.  It fused to the iris.  I had a number of tears inside my eye caused by the pupil trying to move.  Essentially, it was like superglue in my eyeball.  I got more eye drops to be used every hour for a week.  Dilating drops twice a day now.  Return visit in a week.

Do you see how creepy it looks with one pupil dilated!!!

At this point, it seems to be healing but it still hurts like hell.  My eye is super light sensitive.  On the plus side, it is no longer blood red, just bloodshot.  Worse than hangover bloodshot but better.  I have been wearing a pair of fit-over sunglasses over the top of my normal glasses for over two weeks.  I feel like Stevie Wonder.   

What I have discovered is that this Iritis is similar to having arthritis in your eyeball.  WTF!  It is also the third leading cause of blindness is the world, behind glaucoma and cataracts.   The clincher is that if left untreated or out of control it can cause the aforementioned.  There is really no way to determine what caused this unless I have another case of it.  Usually it is caused by autoimmune disorders.  Blah!!!!!  Aargh!!!  Also, all the literature I seem to find has pictures of eyeballs.  Makes sense but I hate looking at eyeballs.  Also, my sister has a phobia of them so we haven't been facetiming as often since my eye creeps her out.  

This is the kind of diagram I see on nearly all the literature I read about Iritis

My life activities have been affected.  I can't read since I can't focus.  This really bites because I was reading "Atlas Shrugged" and now there is no way I am going to finish before it is due back at the library.  The tv's have all been dimmed.  I can't watch tv in bed either because it can't be turned down enough to stop my eye from watering.  Watching tv with one shut sucks because I just end up falling asleep.  Sleeping is hard since my eye waters at night and feels like it is popping out of my socket.  My computer LED backlight is turned off.  It is difficult to type from copy at work.  It is hard to proof read also.  If you find typos in this, please keep them to yourself.  I don't care.  It is hard to write when you can't see.  Driving is near impossible when you can't focus, or open your eye, or stop the eye from watering.  In Montana, the snow is like driving on a mirror and it reflects the light.  It is more like driving at night when everyone coming at you has their brights on.   The curtains at home are drawn.  It is like being a vampire.  The light may kill me.  I hate this!  It shouldn't be call "iritis" it should be called eye-wrongus.  Plus, I feel like Popeye.  

It's too bad that an eye-patch won't help.  I would wear one like this if it did.....

What's the Plan, Stan?

"Always have a plan, even for the little things.  Don't just go out and say you are going out for a Coke.  Decide ahead of time - if they don't have a Coke, then have a Pepsi.  If no Pepsi, then a Fanta.  Don't ever get caught by surprise, learn to always think ahead, be prepared."  Carlos Fonseca.  

Sandinista: Carlos Fonseca and the Nicaraguan Revolution; Matilde Zimmerman

I have always been one to have a plan and goals.  I remember my earliest ones starting in high school. Get the hell out of there.  So I doubled up on classes and graduated a year and a half early.  It then moved into getting a job that pays at least $8 an hour (in the early '90's that was a decent pay and gas was still under $1 a gallon).  Then my goal morphed into getting a promotion.  Did it.  I floundered a bit because I did somethings backwards and got married and had a baby.  Got divorced at 20 so I moved to Idaho to begin again.  Started the job thing all over.  My goal changed from getting a promotion (although I did get raises) to going to college.  After three (3) years of working, I was finally in a place where I could work part-time and go to school full-time.  While I was in school my goals were educationally attainable.  Get a 4.0.  Done.  Dean's List.  Done.  Scholarships.  Done.  Go to Oxford.  Done.  

After college, I just had my part-time job become a full-time job.  I then advanced a few times from that position.  I got bored with Idaho.  I changed my goal to moving and finding a job at the same time.  Done.  Then it was the regular milestones of monotony:  make more money.  Government jobs are good like that.  My goals meshed with moving up so I became a certified floodplain manager; certified residential building inspector; and finally a certified planner.  I think I was also certifiably stupid because even with all the credentials I didn't foresee the economic downtown in construction.  I wasn't prepared to lose my job.  Metaphorically speaking it was as much of a shock as taking your dog for a walk and a car jumps the curb and runs over your dog - killing it in front of you while the leash is still in your hand.  (That is a real scenario too.  My friend, Bad Luck Amanda, had it happen to her).

Had I prepared, I would have had a plan in place rather than flailing around and collecting a pitiful amount of compensation in the form of unemployment benefits.  I would have been able to walk out of the planning department, breathed a sigh of relief and jumped into my next adventure.  I never would have ended up at the assisted living facility wiping asses for almost a year.  I wouldn't have ended up in the comfortable position I am in now and thoroughly enjoy, even though it does nothing to promote my job interests resume-wise.  

I am so frustrated with it all right now.  I could wish for a break that lets me use my strengths (e.g., typing, writing, customer service, analytic thinking and research) or I could actually do something about it.  And that's what I'm going to do, dammit.  

Right now I have a part-time position on the horizon. It is back in the planning field.  I can work it around my existing job.  It would allow me to use my brain again and I would be continually learning.  Honestly, that is what I miss the most about my former line of work.  I was learning every day.  I had to research trends and apply them to a local community level.  I had to memorize them so I didn't look like a bumbling idiot answering questions on the public access channel that replayed the videos of the city council meetings.  It was as if I was still in school.  

I am also applying for a part-time position as a research assistant.  It won't require ever meeting my boss.  It would involve researching material for that person to write a book and communicating online.  And typing, loads of it.  Transcription.  Tons of it.  F-U-N!  Plus, it would be something that would allow me to feel like I am contributing something by no longer being idle and just preparing paperwork.  If wishes were fishes, the sea would be full.  Keep your fingers crossed for me.

*Note:  I am afraid I have lost my sense of humor.  I still love to smile but not much is funny.  I am beginning to think it is the winter.  Maybe I have S.A.D. or maybe I am bored from not thinking.  Either way it needs to stop.  I will have to figure it out.  Lately my only source of enjoyment has been pinterest and trying out new hairstyles including fish-bone braids and no heat curls.  For Christ's Sake!  Somethings gotta give*

Web Technology and Parenting Rant

My skills are finally benefiting me.  This week we will launch a new website at work that I have created as an assignment.  I wish it could be super, duper rockin' with flash enabled gadgets and woozits all over but, alas, it will not.  We have a web hosting company that uses templates for promotional items that can be customized with your name, logo, etc.  The current templates look like web sites created in 1999 using simple html code only and no Javascript.  Luckily, the new launch is on a platform that is reminiscent of homestead.com.  It is more of a drag and drop and you can embed your own code in objects to circumvent their templates.  There is also CSS which allows a full overhaul from the basic setup.  I am rather excited since it should give the company an edge.  Finally, we will look like we know what we are doing.  My boss is stoked and has really been talking it up.  You would have thought I just invented the Internet if Al Gore hadn't done it first from they way he is describing it.

The web hosting company is impressed with what I was able to do with the basic membership and has asked if they can use our site as an example of what can be done with the site without purchasing the custom option.  Our representative even offered me a job if I want to move to California, which I don't.  Yes, I complain about the cold in Montana but there are way too many in SoCal for me to deal with on a daily basis.  I like quiet, sparse and predictable.  Plus, I am not the best at programming.  I just have a knack for figuring out what I want to do and only researching the aspects that are needed to do it.

On the home front this week it has all been about arguing.  My 10 year-old is practicing his mediation skills.  The arguing has all been about cleaning his bedroom.  It is not that bad.  It doesn't look like this:

And it wasn't even this bad:

Whatever the case, you would have thought it was a very difficult project due to the arguing and fits that were being had (and that was on both sides because I felt like Mommy Dearest was going to make a second coming due to my frustration level with the whole thing)

Now it is Sunday evening and the job is almost done.  Thank goodness.  I suppose I will get an 18 hour reprieve until he gets home from school tomorrow and has to pick it up again.....Parenting.  Blech!

PS.  Neither of the pictures posted above were taken of my home.  They were clipped from the internet.  I just felt the urge to clarify that.

Reasonable Resolutions

This is the time of year when people start touting their new year's resolutions and they really mean it.  With intent.  The sad part is most people fail.  I only know one person who has held true to a resolution for a full year.  My former boss, Gerard, made reasonable resolutions.  One year he decided to eat a "wafer thin sandwich" everyday for lunch while at work.  It was rather easy to achieve.  2 pieces of white bread; mayonnaise; sometimes mustard; 2 pieces of Carl Buddig beef, ham, or turkey and a slice of American cheese.  He achieved that goal.  Another year he dedicated his resolution to taking a photo each day.  It didn't matter if it was a bush covered by snow on his walk to work, his children smiling or a picture of his foot.  He almost achieved it except for one day when he had the flu or sickness so bad that he thought he was going to die so he didn't follow through.  In my mind, he made it.  In his, he didn't.  You decide....

Too many people set unrealistic goals.  I am going to lose 70 pounds; wear the same size I wore in high school; quit drinking; quit smoking; eat healthier; blah, blah, blah.  If you really want to do those things, just do it.  Don't wait until some epic event to make you start.  

This year I have resolved to set attainable goals.  My goals are listed below.  I think at this point there are more than are possible but I have another day to decide and wean out those that I don't will happen with certainty.

1. Drink a beer at least once a week (This I can almost guarantee is possible unless the government enacts prohibition this year or the Coors Corporation ceases to exist.)  I would say a beer a day but that would make me sound like an alcoholic.
2. Smile more often--or actually smile at someone I don't know daily.  
3. Play the kinect and learn the dance to California Girls by Katie Perry so Anne and I can perform our flash mob we keep joking about.
4. Be nicer to my family.  Not just nod when they speak but actually be nice.  Interact more even though I might be in a cruddy mood.  Hug them more often and just "be".  Live in the moment.  I think this stems from the realization that the boys are growing up too fast and I already miss them in a younger form.  
5. Eat vegetarian one day a month.  For some this is easy.  I live with carnivores.  This may be difficult.  I can usually get away with it when the family is not around however they don't feel like they have been feed unless some type of animal winds up in their stomachs.  I don't mean vegan either.  I mean the fake vegetarian that can eat eggs and dairy products.
6. Lose one pants size.  Granted, I am one of those people who dreams of losing tons of weight but I am being practical.  I might achieve this by solely playing Just Dance on the kinect on a daily basis.  We shall see.
7. One family involved activity every week.  Mormon families do this already but mine kind of does a hodge-podge of whatever they feel like.  Movies count as long as all 4 of us are together.  Not just Alan and I watching it while Silas plays the iPod and/or Cody uses his laptop.  This is the age of techie children.  I know I shouldn't condone it but I do.  Oh well.
8. Write at least one post a month.  That should be something I do.  Just for me.  Sometimes I feel selfish writing to no one in particular then I realize that I do it in my journal anyway or daydream for long amounts of time so why not.  It might not be interesting to others but I am sure I can do this.
9. Finish reading "Atlas Shrugged."  I just started this week.  It is so long the librarian asked me to report back to her when I finished.  She said she heard it was good but its size alone intimidated her too much to attempt to read it.
10. Do at least one load of laundry a week.  Many may not believe this is a goal.  It is for me.  I hate laundry.  I resent it.  I can do my own laundry but I don't want to do it for others.  In the next year I will do more laundry and possibly put it away instead of putting it in the clean basket on top of my dresser.  
11. Bring back a little more "Nikki" each day.  I have just felt like I lost myself somewhere.  If I keep looking maybe I can find me.

So that's what I have come up with to date.  Not a huge list but enough to choose from and possibly even complete at 75%.  Time will tell.  As I write this, I am realizing how difficult it may be since my husband is already making comments about me actually writing to no one again.  He thinks my blog is my boyfriend even though I have not  posted in three months. Wait until he finds out I have started using "Pinterest."  Maaaahaaahaaaa (evil laugh if you couldn't tell from reading that)

Happy 2012.  May you too have achievable goals.

I have Graduated!

Tonight at dinner I found out that I have apparently graduated from the "Meanest Mom in the World" to the "Creepiest Mom in the World."  I am not sure if that is really a bad thing either.  For the past 15 years, there have been many times in which I have been accused of being mean.  Usually this "being mean" involves responsible parenting.  Examples would be having a child clean their room, do chores, finish homework, act appropriately or even *Gasp* accept responsibility for their actions while they are in trouble.  I have been very deserving of this title and have worked diligently at earning and living up to the role.  It took many years of training.

I have also found out that there are other mothers out there who may also qualify as the "Meanest Mom in the World."  To them I say "Excellent Job!"  It is rather difficult to have the title stick.  This mother may have earned it in her child's eyes but other mom's out there are raising our glasses of wine at night when the kids are in bed and saying "Cheers" and "Here! Here!"  Ma'am we applaud you!!

What has transpired tonight is a bit different.  One that I had never pondered.  One that I never knew I would be proud of holding.  Yet it is now here.  I have become the "Creepiest Mom in the World".  I do not remember the last time I was so verklempt by such an honor.  It will be difficult to give my acceptance speech.  However, I will persevere and wade through the emotions that overcome me at this time of recognition.

I always thought a creepy mom would look like this:

(Although, I must note, that Ann Coulter is always creepy)  Or, a creepy mom would look like this:

What have I done to begat this fame?  I informed my son that yes, he could indeed go hang out with his friends, however, I may at any time come and check on him.  Yep, that is right.  I confirmed that at any given moment in time, I may shatter his reality of coolness by verifying his whereabouts by making a public appearance.  It doesn't mean that I will.  It doesn't mean I will show up at the library when he is "studying."

It doesn't mean I will be peeking on him as he is walking downtown or through neighborhoods with his peers.

Or even making a discreet stop at the mall.

It simply means that when he tells me that he will be somewhere I will reserve the right to follow up and verify that he is there.  If he is truly going to be participating in whatever event he has told me then it should be no big deal.  BUT, if he isn't truthful and has different intentions then I guess it would be terrifying and possibly creepy.

Oh well, I don't mind being creepy.  At least I know where my kids are.

The Devil Living in My Yard

My husband thinks I might be the only person in America who hates deer.  In my defense, with good reason.  This year I actually have a bumper crop of apples in my yard.  I was so excited until the deer showed up.  It is a little buck about two years old.  He has little horns with nubbins.  He was here Sunday night when we got home from being gone all weekend.  I told him he could stay the night in the back yard and then he had better be gone.

Monday--He was there when I woke up, came home for lunch and got back after work.  When Alan got home he suggested I try to scare him away because he was eating apples and then headed to my garden to gobble up my strawberries.  That did not sit well with me.  I have struggled to get my garden going a midst the local city wild life of squirrels, raccoons and the stupid crows.

Going off of the husband's advice, I started hootin' and hollerin' at the deer.  He just stared at me.  I started running around on the deck and making noise.  He went from the apple tree to the garden again.  I was pissed!  I flew down the stairs and yelled as loud as I could.  Nothing.  He just kept eating.  I screamed louder.  I tried yelling in a deeper voice.  The deer took notice and inquisitively turned his head to look straight at me.  I again made same booming noises and ran towards him.  My arms extended towards the sky so I would appear larger (I have heard you should do that wildlife.  It doesn't really work).  Frickin' deer just glared at me and then.....charged me.  He started running towards me.  I had no other choice but to turn around and run like hell back up to the deck with Alan.  The deer then just stood in the yard with an evil eye turned towards me before proceeding to eat again.  Husband said it could smell the fear in me.  Sure thing!  Like I want to be hoofed to death or worse--maimed in the facial region for life.  Holy Buckets!!!

Tuesday--Tried again.  Same results.  My sister suggested I ask him nicely to leave.  I did so hoping he would abide.

Wednesday--Go out to feed the devil cat that lives on the porch and he is STILL THERE!! Aargh!  This is going too far.  Lunch he was there.  After work he was there.  I decided to take matters into my own hands.  This is a deer.  A stupid little one too.  I should be able to outsmart it.  Scare it away in some manner.  If he would just stop eating my apple tree which by this time has lost 50% of its leaves and is now loosing apples non stop.  Damned deer can't just eat the ones on the ground.  NOOOO!

Step 1:  I go out and make more noise.  I more or less yelled at him like I was fighting with one of my siblings when I was a teenager.  Didn't work.  I was defeated.  He just lays down under the tree across from the porch.

Step 2:  I dig through Silas' confiscated goods that we keep in our room.  No cap gun only caps.  However, I did find those annoying snappers that you throw on the ground to scare people.  Armed with a bag of the snappers I headed outside.  The deer must have known something because he got up and walked to the other side of the picnic table on the patio.  I started hucking the poppers on the deck.  Then the stone walkway.  Then I walked to the patio about 3 feet from the evil deer.  I started throwing them around me and he didn't even wince.

Step 3:  I am freaking out now.  I am mad.  I picked up a piece of wood and threw it at the deer.  He stepped about 2 feet the other direction but made no attempt to even act surprised by the crazy women having a freak out 5 feet away.

Step 4:  I go to the driveway and gathered two handfuls of gravel.  When I got back to the apple tree area the deer must have sensed something so by now he had sauntered over to the garden and was again munching on the greens of the strawberries.  He even ate the flowers off my poppies!!!!  The nerve!!!!!

Screaming and running towards him I launched an all out army style assault and pelted him with rocks.  I know I hit him but my throwing skills must be weak because he really didn't flinch too much.  He kept eating although he was getting antsy.

Step 5:  I am ready to cry.  I am a girl.

Step 6:  Desperate for something to work I started the lawn mower.  He looks up.  I run towards him while pushing the lawn mower.  He runs to the opposite side of the yard.  I do too.  He zigs the other way.  I zagged.  He circles around the fire pit.  So do I.  Mind you I am pushing a running lawn mower.  He goes to the garden, I follow.  We circle the garden then back across the lawn towards the apple tree.  He actually started to sprint!!!  Yes!!!!!  Although he stopped when he got to the trampoline.

Step 7:  I run with the lawn mower towards him, let go of it on the patio, grab a pile of sticks and pine cones and start launching them at him.  Finally he runs through the open gate.  Victory is mine--for about 30 seconds until he lays down under the pine tree in the front yard.

Step 8:  I realize what an idiot I am when I see how the lawn has a crazy path mowed through it.

Step 9:  I mow the lawn in the back yard.

Step 10: I mow the front yard.  The deer is clearly annoyed with me and walks across the street to Eva's yard.  Well, at least he isn't in my yard anymore.

Step 11:  Not having any deer deterrent spray or any wild game urine like numerous websites suggest I grab a package of fabric sheets and hang them on the branches of the apple tree.  Deer supposedly don't like soap or fabric softer.  We will see.....  At least now when I sit on the bench under the tree I get a nice spring rain scent.

Odd Moments in Assisted Living

Working for the last few months in assisted living has really provided me with insight into the aging process and I have gained a deeper compassion for people.  Especially for the caregivers that I work with on a daily basis.  I have needed to fill in on the floor a few times when staff hasn't shown up for a shift.  That was really difficult for me the first time I did it.  I have no experience in it whatsoever!  It opened my eyes to what the caregivers provide to others on a regular basis.  These amazing people help others with basic tasks that I take for granted such as putting on my socks and shoes and even using the restroom alone.  I am in awe of the kindness and caring that caregivers need to exhibit.  I am also in awe of the grace that they must exhibit continually.  

Happy moments occur regularly.  We were playing bean bag toss and clapping when someone scored 100 points.  Another women who has dementia and was sitting nearby, started giggling and shouted out "Oh Delicious!"  If I ever get dementia, I hope I am as happy as her.  She is usually smiling and laughing.  Maybe she doesn't always know what is going on but at least she is happy.  That is what I want too.  

I have gotten used to being asked my name often.  I always wear my name tag and remind people it is ok for them to ask me and if they can't remember just look at the name tag.  It is my job to remember their names but they don't need to remember mine.  I will even answer to "Hey you."  I suppose that is because I grew up in a large family so not being called by name is no big deal.

Today I took a group of residents out to lunch at the VFW for Veteran's Day.  It was so nice to get to know them outside of my regular job role.  I made a comment about working and one of the residents looked right at me and said "Where do you work?"  The other residents had a laugh when I responded with "Where you live.  I work at your house."  

One day I was helping an older gentleman in the restroom.  While I was assisting him on the toilet he asked me if I was married.  That really surprised me as toilet conversation.  Another time I was walking through the hallway and saying "hello" to residents that I passed.  One woman yelled out in a booming voice "Boy, she sure has a big butt!"  What do you say to that?  You can't exactly turn around and say something in response.  So you suck it up even though it would have been nice to say "You wet your pants."   

Even with my experience in government work nothing could have prepared me for the daily interactions I experience with residents.  I am used to defusing anger and tempers that involve property rights.  That is a hard thing to do.  Making people happy is nothing like that.  It is rather rewarding.  I go to work smiling and go home smiling (although sometimes I may be muttering a retort under my breath).

This is the first drawing I created using my new Bamboo tablet and pen.  Maybe my drawings are a bit crude but it is so much faster than drawing with the mouse tracking pad on my laptop.

Livin' it up

Now that I am aware that my days of leisure are about to come to an abrupt end, I am livin' it up.  Today I am headed to my friend's private lake for a long swim in the 85 degree weather.  Should be super fun.  Tomorrow?  Coffee and a crossword, maybe more swimming....The next day who knows?  Monday, August 2nd?  Work.

Update:  I wrote this yesterday before we went swimming.  Now I am experiencing stinging pain on my right shoulder.  My husband is in pain over 80% of his body. It is the first time in 5 years we have been sun burnt at the same time.  Matter of fact, it is the first time in 5 years that I can recall my husband being burnt.  Must be the meds he is on for his heart and cholesterol....Poor guy took off his shirt so his belly is the worst.  He looks like Mr. Crabs.  I look more like a patchwork quilt of pure whiteness with dots of pink and red.  The older boy has some red spots.  The youngest one, who resembles an albino most of the year, turned a deep brown.  I just don't get it....At least I don't have to work like this, yet.  Well--except for delivering now since one of the drivers abruptly quit without notice.  Just didn't show up.  Which is why our swimming adventure can to a quick end.  Ironically, it was a good thing.  How bad would it have been if I wouldn't have been called in to cover the little turd's shift?!?!  Every summer this happens in the July 20's.  I refer to it as a case of the july's (which may be related to snowboarditis).   I am sure it is related to the weather rather than job conditions.  As the temperature goes up, absenteeism rises.  I guess it was a good thing that I didn't have a job yet....

I AM A ROBOT....

Lately I feel like a robot.  Honestly, I find myself speaking all mono-syllabic and moving hurky-jerky style.  I feel as if I lost the up in my giddy-up and I am locked in the ho-hum hum-drum of unemployment.  This totally sucks!  Five months and counting.  I have created a routine and I am rather sure I have mentioned my routine in earlier posts but I am too lazy to re-read it looking for it to link to it.  Robots don't do things like that.  They only do what is in their routines and what they are programmed to do.  I am programmed to get up, read the paper, look for jobs, apply for jobs, clean the house, do laundry, go to work with my husband, make pizzas, deliver the pizzas, come home, look at Facebook, fold the laundry I put in the dryer before the leaving the house, empty the dishwasher, watch a rerun of  "Cold Case" and fall asleep.  Then repeat.  


I wish someone would push reboot or reprogram me to do something different.  Last week I did do other things but even those other things were work like mowing the lawn, weeding the flower bed, raking, waxing the floor and unpacking those boxes of weird shit I can't figure out where it goes but I know I have to keep it.  Aaargh.  I want to enjoy summer but summer enjoyment apparently equals money which one earns by working outside the home which is what I don't do and in my job with my husband--it is unpaid so the business doesn't have to pay someone else, so what fun is that?  


I think I may have a nervous breakdown and start beeping like Silas does when he is nervous.  For example:  First day of school,  "Hi.  I am your new teacher.  What is your name?"  "Beep." *Me* "His name is Silas."  "Oh, welcome Silas.  Let us find your desk.  You are sitting next to Libby.  Do you know Libby?"  *Him* "Beep."  "Well, you must be a little nervous.  That is ok.  Second grade is going to be fun.  What is your favorite sport?"  *Him* "Beep."  I finally left him at his desk even though he didn't stop beeping.  He always stops eventually.


Robots get stuck in routines because that is what they are made to do.  Not me.  If I am stuck in a routine I want compensated for it.  Here are somethings I would like to be paid for:  working and working.  I am good at working.  Mother f***er.  Beep.  Does not compute.  Does not compute.  Beep. Beep. Beep.

Just Whistle While You Work

Looking for a job is like waiting for my floor to dry after using Orange-glo. I enjoy the after effects of Orange-glo--the shininess of the floor reflecting the sunlight from the windows and the pleasant fake orange smell that lingers for a day or so. It is the waiting for it to be done part that drives me crazy. Inevitably I find myself in some desperate need to re-enter the kitchen early to retrieve something that I forget. If I give in, it is all for not and I must redo the floor within a few days. Blah! If I just sit and wait and let it cure then I can enjoy my handwork.


When I get antsy to apply for a job that pops up and hastily prepare my letter of application and materials, I can include some stupid mistake that could have been prevented if I would have just let it follow the usual course and took my time. That typo or omission is like the footprint I leave in the not-yet-dry-still-tacky orange-glo: it is there for all to see. Not only do I have to redo the floor but the errors in applications drag this waiting process onwards.


I have thought about hiring a maid since housework sucks. I can afford one right after I can afford a resume service to market my resume which will land me a new job. Until then, a little bit of elbow grease, plenty of orange-glo and a lot of waiting is the way to go.

Striking Gold

Wowsers.  I struck it rich on Craigslist today.  After a very long dry spell of any amusing job postings, I found two this morning-- ripe and ready for the picking.  La-di-da!

First up is a continuation of our old friend, Edwina, and her property preservation request.  I have no doubt that this has been posted by the same bottom feeders willing to pay a whopping $7.50 for a site visit!  (Gas is $2.89 a gallon right now, barely covers gas.  Idiots.....)  Funniest part is how they ended their posting:  "If you are insured, and honest, we should talk," as opposed to "If you don't have your own worker's comp policy and are a liar..."  Der....  That "we should talk" part should be a red flag that this is not the most genuine posting.  Maybe they should have ended it with "Lets do lunch, dahhhhling," in order to have a higher response rate since only a newb job hunter would respond to this one and, hey, free lunch!

Second idiot posting of the day comes to us from Sarah and Kent who feel that they have discovered the key to success and happiness and therefore must advertise it on Craigslist instead of late night infomercials.  They begin their post with an extremely annoying headline:  "Do you desire a change?"  Answer:  "No, I just look for jobs because I enjoy it."  "No, I just peruse job postings as a way of making myself feel better since I already have a job and want to laugh at the lack of good jobs available."  Why would they include that rhetorical question as their lead-in!?!?!?!  Of course I want change!!!!! Why would I be reading wanted ads online if I wanted to stay all caught up in the usual rigmarole of being unemployed.   For gods sakes alive!  This just really annoyed me but not as much as when I visited the website.  The website was so bad and I became so frustrated by the ambiguous phrases hinting towards financial freedom that I couldn't even post a screen shot here.  It made me so disgusted that I vurped.  I then took some Tums and only posted a screen shot of the ad.  Aaargh!!!!!!!!!

I am not sure if it is the weather, the moon cycle, my female cycle or the fact that I am entering into my 5th (yep, that is right) 5th f'in month of unemployment that is making me sound more like Maxine in those grouchy cartoons than sounding like myself (see dumb cartoon below).  I am also getting so distraught with my lack of leads that becoming an alcoholic or collecting disability pay for doing nothing is becoming more appealing by the minute.  If you are an alcoholic there are recovery services available for you and they will help you find a job if you go into "recovery."  If you are disabled, you can either get free schooling to be retrained or just collect money each month from your mailbox job.  You don't really have to be disabled in the usual manner of loosing body parts either.  You can just have a mental illness.  Mine is unemployment.  It is driving me crazy.  Grrrrr again.

Welcome to Wal-mart where we only hire people who aren't you (as in me)

I have officially hit a new low in my job quest.  I am unemployable as a greeter.  I have to admit that it is true now that I have been turned down by Wal-mart.  Yep.  I was.  I can't believe it.  I feel like a tard.  It was the same feeling I had in college when my perfect 4.0 GPA (yeah, I was an over-achiever then) was marred with my first B.  I remember that I felt as if the world was ending.  The worst part was that my family laughed at me--much like my husband laughed when I told him I didn't make the cut for the Wal-mart job.  (I will say in my family's defense that they laughed at me because that B was issued in an art class, pottery nonetheless.  I sucked at pottery.)  I guess I suck at greeting people, being rude and dismissive and chasing carts, much like the people at Walmart except they get hired to do it.  

I suppose I will have to keep looking.  On the bright side, I didn't receive a rejection from Safeway (yet).    

Gottcha Where I Wantcha....

On Friday, while working at my condo-stripping job I was reminded of a series of horribly stupid, long-winded jokes that we used to tell as children.  Maybe you remember them.  The jokes all center around people staying in a hotel and checking out early based on scary voices they hear chanting mantras such as "Gottcha Where I Wantcha, Now I'm Gonna Eatcha," or "When the log rolls over we will die, we will die."  Usually a brave person tracks down the source which ends up to be an old women in a closet holding a bloody booger on her finger or a bunch of talking flies sitting on a turd that was left in the toilet.  Not the best jokes but they were funny to a 7 year old.  The funniest part is why my temporary job on Fridays cleaning hotel rooms would remind me of fodder that is embedded in my mind from almost 30 years ago.  Any guesses as to why??  Honestly, the truth would make you barf.....No pictures associated with this post.  I am still too busy trying not to vomit little bits in my mouth in order to draw what I have witnessed.


Note to Self:  While staying at hotels or resort, be sure to bring ample kleenex and not to use the bed sheets as tissue paper especially while suffering from bloody sinus pressure.  *Barf*  Don't get me started on the toilets again....  

Jedi Knight or Knight of the Sith?

Every once in a while you come to a fork in the road and you must choose the path you will take: the high road, the low road, the one less traveled, blah, blah, blah....I arrived at that fork today and I am still not sure which way I will go.  If anyone pulls up behind me, please just honk and I will pull over to the side so you can go around me.

I went out to lunch with some friends.  While we were leaving I saw an acquaintance who works in the real estate business.  We chit-chatted for a moment about my lack of gainful unemployment and my side jobs as a pizza delivery driver and stripper (aka housekeeper).  She began to quiz me in my computer application skills and experience with office skills, accounting, etc.  She then said they were possibly going to hire an assistant for her and I should bring by a resume.  Now this woman is super nice, super smart and actually super cool.  Not such a bad gig actually.  The quandary revolves around the profession of  real estate.    

In this world there are two types of people:  Planners (me and my kind) and Real Estate Agents (them).  Planners and real estate agents interact for a handful of reasons including arguing about allowed land uses and the impact of the zoning on the value; arguing about building codes and the impacts on the value; and discussing the specifics of planning/zoning/building law which apply to properties they are trying to sell and make a butt-load of money on for commission without typically doing any of the footwork or research (that is what planners do).   

My planning friends and I refer to the real estate industry as "The Dark Side."  I believe it may be a planning-wide joke as well because I have heard it at conferences too.  They are dark--we are light (or so I thought).  Now that the planning world has been reduced to nothing by the failing real estate market (much like the planet Alderaan was destroyed by the Death Star) I must decide which force is stronger inside of me:  the planning side that is unemployed or the side that would really like a job to earn some money.  I wish I had Yoda nearby to help point me in the right direction.  

PS.  I know that Star Wars did not involve any zombies chanting something from the movie "Freaks" but I threw it in anyway.....

In Which I Cry in my Car

Soooo, there was this really appealing job advertised.  It was with a company that manufactures mobile command units for emergencies.  They integrate GIS and GPS.  Perfect match for moi.  Here is when I mention my degree is in Cartography (map making) with my emphasis in GIS and plenty of GPS and remote sensing crap involved while I was in college.  As Ace Venture would say this job would fit me "like a glove."

This employer required Proveit! tests from Job Service. If you are not familiar with Proveit! tests they are tests that were most likely created by the devil and are typically utilized by companies who beat their employees or expect them to perform at a high level of efficiency with little compensation (same thing in my book).  Proveit! tests do not allow you to go back and change an answer.  You can not review anything.  If the little pop-up window comes up unexpectedly in the middle of clicking something else and you click the next question button, you are screwed.  You just answered a question and got it wrong.  These tests suck.  Bad.  You aren't allowed to repeat them.  Even the No Child Left Behind Act allows schools to retest where there were obvious errors.  That is a Bush-era mandate.  Even that administration saw the value of retesting....  Rant Finished****

There were tests for business English (in which I did not score so well...hmmmm), grammar, etiquette, ethics, Word, Excel, Outlook and typing.  They were obviously serious about who they hired as the only thing the company didn't require was a criminal background test, fingerprints, credit report, medical history, a copy of the book of poetry I wrote for the 1987 Young Authors Conference and my report on France that I wrote in the 4th grade.  Assholes.... 

Day 1: I go in and take two hours of tests and have to leave because I have an appointment.  Day 2:  I go in again and take another hour of tests and then in the middle of it....the power goes out.  Twenty minutes later the computers are up and running again but it messed up the test I was on.  As mentioned previously, Proveit! tests don't allow you to repeat or go back to questions so basically it screwed me on that test.  Oh well...Anyway, I finish the round of testing finally (another hour more) and go up to the help desk to retrieve my results and put in the formal application (as I was awaiting the required tests).  I have 4 hours vested into this job and I don't even know how much it pays...Out of the blue, a woman says to the guy that is helping me, "They closed that job early.  It was filled yesterday."  WTF!!!!!!!!!!  He was like "????" and I was like "????!!!!????!!!!!"  He says "I am so sorry. That job was posted to be open until June 6th."  "Yes," I reply "that is what I thought too. " *sobbing on the inside*

Side note:  The man was nice.  He praised my test results.  He said my typing was blazing fast.  I did 70 words a minute with 0 errors for 3 minutes.  Woot!  Woot!  I guess I can type.  :)  

Regressing a bit, after the initial let down I retrieved the phone number of the company who hired someone even though it said the job was still open.  I then went to my car and I called the company and informed them that the job was still listed as open and I had spent 4 hours taking the tests and they needed to fix it so it didn't happen to other people.  Honestly, the woman I spoke with was an unsympathetic beeeaaatch.  Not nice.  Not caring.  Probably because she has a job and doesn't know what it to be fricking desperate for a job.  I hope she gets laid off someday and learns what it feels like.  Maybe then she can be a bit nicer to the general public and at least pretend to care when she speaks to people via telephone.  After all of this was over that is when I shed a few tears out of frustration--I suppose desperation too, as some days I feel like I shall never ever find a real job again.  That is the central idea I refer to where I made an A.A. Milne-type reference in my grammatic pattern and entitled this "In Which I Cry in my Car."  

After a minute or two, I wiped my eyes, smiled at myself in the rear view mirror and went to Shopko to use a gift card I had been saving for some retail therapy.  It helped.  I felt much better and now I have two adorable black wrought iron lamps with micro-suede shades flanking the nightstands on either side of my bed. 

Follow-up:  The day after the incident in which I write about, I received a call from an employee at Workforce who had heard about what had transpired.  She apologized profusely for how it had occurred.  She also said that she had contacted the company with the job posting and read them the riot act as well about how it had happened.  She said it should not happen again.  There was one other person who also completed the tests the same day and suffered through the same hell.  *To whomever you are, we are united.  I feel your pain.  Good luck in your job search*  The good news is that whenever the offending company posts job openings Workforce will be overseeing them and will track it better so this will not happen again.  Hot damn!  Also, this lady said I should submit my materials anyway as I had completed all the requirements and they may have openings again in the next 6 months.  Blah.