Bagel Duty

Tomorrow will be four sunrises I have seen in a row - definitely a record for me.  I try to avoid anything that requires me to awaken in the dark cold of a winter morning...or a spring morning...or a summer morning...or a fall morning.  It just goes to show I can do it when I have to, but the adrenalin of hell week is the only thing keeping me going. 

Tomorrow I considered a later start but realized I have BAGEL duty.  This is a very serious activity in the bagel club.  There are  minimum requirements, there are maximum expectations.  And ther is most definitely an expectation of arrival time.  If the setup is not complete by 8:30am, you'd better be in an ambulance on the way to the hospital from wrecking your car trying to get there - and even so, why can't the ambulance just swing by the office and drop off the 8 bags o'groceries on the way.

Once, a new member actually brought in Lender's bagels. 

Yeah, it wasn't pretty. 

Another time, someone actually forgot it was their turn. The reaction was such that the person immediately ran to their car and went on an emergency shopping run to rectify the criminal act of forgetting bagels.  I almost had to ask for special dispensation to bring bagels in on Thursday this week instead of Friday. 

Everything except the bagels is now chilling in the car - fresh fruit tray, bakery danish selection, variety of juices, clementine oranges.  Tomorrow at 7:30 am I'll pull into the local bagel shop (grocery bakery bagels are nearly as reviled as Lender's) and select two dozen fresh and warm bagels and pick out some gourmet spreads to go with it.  I've stepped it down a notch this week as I just can't bring myself to bake anything - usually I throw in a home-baked item or two...but...you know...it's hell week.

But hell would have to freeze over for Bagel duty to be derailed.

I've got to go set my alarm for another sunrise morning...yawn.

Hell Week

I'm just logging off for the night at 9:09PM.  I met with my CEO and Global Ops Director this afternoon and they aptly described this as HELL WEEK.  We have meetings from 7AM to 6PM all week (I won't be attending all, but prepping for many) and there are four consecutive dinners out with colleagues as well.  I consider myself lucky I am only attending two of them.  By the time this week is over, everyone will be sick of everyone.

My schoolwork and house projects are calling me (not to mention the 4 novels on my bedstand)...but they'll just have to wait.  The place that pays for all of that is first in line this week. 

Who needs the gym....?

...when you've got home improvement projects? After two days of painting a 5x5 room I've done about 1,000 squats while balancing a paint tray, brush and roller. My butt and thighs feel like I did 6 straight hours of step aerobics after the up and down the step ladder calisthenics I've been doing. The arm movements extending my arms to their furthest rotation to paint walls, ceiling and moulding are reminiscent of Mr. Miyagi training the Karate Kid.

So I ask again, who needs the gym, when you've got home improvement projects.

Well...probably me...but I also don't have the time.

That time of year again

Well, it's time again.

Today, I'm counting my many many blessings; thinking of my loved ones - those here, those far away, and those gone; and taking stock of another year gone by. It gets blurrier every year, how fast the time goes.

I am rather quiet about this day. No celebrations at work. No real celebrations at home. A lovely wake-up kiss and sweet happy birthday from hubby are all I really need.

After passing the big ones, 16, 18, 21...I haven't had much use for the day. I'm not about anti-age recognition, I'm about low-key, post-holiday, done with the celebrating thing, let's got on with life.

But a little reflection, a little glass of wine...and a lotta chocolate cake...yeah, that's ok.

So - time to get out my favorite cake plate.



Bake a chocolate layer cake.



Light it up.



And it's time to face the mirror (and camera).



Me. 43.

Wednesday Relief

So this is the 2nd Wednesday in a row (actually the 3rd if you count Christmas week) that I haven't been in the office. I love it. Last week I slept through most of it, but today, I ran errands (Home Depot and Lowe's are my 2nd home right now), hit the Dr. for a script of antibiotics to get rid of this chronic sinus infection everyone has, and spent a lovely three hours at the salon getting my hair highlighted, lowlighted, other-lighted?, and cut. I feel thoroughly relaxed right now, have only checked my blackberry once today, sending out a volley of replies which are sure to have generated more... and trying to motivate myself to work on my school assignment.

There is a chocolate layer cake in the oven (oops - beeper just went off...) needs 2 minutes more. And the house is smelling yummy. I have the fixin's for a nice spaghetti comfort food dinner with some fresh garlic bread and hubby is heading home any minute now.

Tonight we spackle walls, or maybe he does, as this school assignment just won't wait. The assignment is due Friday...which means I'd better get cracking on it if I don't want to be pulling an all-nighter tomorrow. There just doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day to do the things I want to do, much less the things I need to do (i.e., job, sleep)

But I do have to say...two days on, a day off, two days on, two days off seems like a nice work schedule option. If only it could be an every week thing.

Hoteling Memories

I've read several articles that claim that people may think they are good multi-taskers, but at best, they are good at organizing around multiple tasks. Actually concentrating and giving our best requires a more singular focus.

I often wonder if aging and too much Diet Pepsi is eating away at my brain, or if I simply expect too much from it.

When I was a child, I used to sit at the dinner table and make some comment about my body being like a hotel and as I ate my dinner, I was filling the rooms - veggies, meat, beverage, etc. When the hotel was full, I was done. I had a special room for applesauce as my mother served it at every meal. I think it was her way of bribing me to eat my veggies. She didn't much care if I buried my peas in it, as long as the peas were eaten. Of course now people look at me strangely when I always prefer my peas mixed in with applesauce, even as an adult. But as usual, I digress.

I think my brain is really like a hotel. And I think the rooms have been full, and maybe even over-occupied for a very long time. Now I am kicking out residents to make room for new check-ins and it is leaving some pretty serious gaps in my memory and thoughts.

I can walk from one meeting to the next and at the end of the day, if I don't have notes from the meetings, I can easily forget 80% of what I heard. Hopefully, the 20%I retain is the important stuff- or at least the stuff most relevant to my regular to-do list...but overall, I think I've been pretty lucky not to drop a major ball yet.

One example is even keeping up on two blogs. My mind is so focused on projects for Yellow Cottage Chronicles that I haven't put much thought into what else in life is going on that might actually be interesting enough to post here. Of course I have random thoughts throughout the day as I have conversations, meeting, listen to news, watch a movie, read a book....but by the time I get to the keyboard, the hotel rooms have been vacated and the linens are changed and the incoming guest have no clue as to what was going on before the changeover.

I've often wished to have a camera embedded in my brain. Mostly for those once in a liftime moments that you just wish you could capture and replay. But now, I'd like the camera to be like a security camera in the hotel lobby. Who checked out? When? Who checked in? for what? Where is the bathroom? and the bar? Or maybe I just need a hotel manager.

Sick Day Hangover

Yesterday I took a sick day. I wasn't overwhelmingly ill, but I had a very bad night of sleep (got about 1.5 hours total) and had a killer headache. I might have been able to "suck it up" and function, but I probably wouldn't be worth much. Today? Today was what I call sick day hangover day.

Every meeting and conference call that was supposed to happen yesterday (that didn't go on without me) I rescheduled for today...on top of what was already supposed to happen today. I was on the phone from 8:30 until 12:30 today non-stop.

Every deadline was overdue one more day, or one day closer to BEING overdue, so I had lots of deliverables to crank out. Every person who wanted to consult me, get my signature, or in any other way "use my talents" was waiting as if there was a take-a-number bakery line.

Then, I went into a conference room for a 30 minute meeting at the end of the day, that turned into 3.5 hours! Not a bad meeting, but obviously everyone had stored up a lot of stuff to talk about and it all spilled out there. From seating arrangements in the new location, to budget adjustments for end of 2009, to employee relations issues, to MERGER stuff, and everything in between.

So after getting back to my desk at 7:30PM, I found myself with a message from my VP in a two hour earlier time zone to call (meaning I would still catch him at work) and an unforgiving and long list of To-Dos that would just haunt me further tomorrow if I didn't tackle them now.

So it is now 11:00PM and I'm headed home.

I foresee some further hangover tomorrow.

Why Hubby Makes Me Laugh

W: Well, seems the jewelry I picked out for Hannukah gifts for the girls (nieces) were not a hit. Their mom says they like big and gaudy, not sweet and delicate, so I'm digging up the receipts for returns. When I was their age....

C: Times have changed W. Right now if you can keep their POOTY off the internet you're ahead of the game.

W: I cannot believe you just said POOTY.

*****

C: You should stick all those things Penny Kitty has gathered up into a potato and take a picture.

[pause]

C: You know, for your blog.

*****

W (to Penny Kitty): You're all, "Get away, get away" and then you're all "Pet me Pet me Pet me". Everything has to be on YOUR terms. You are SUCH a girl.

C: Suddenly everything in my life seems clear.

Paw'd and Dangerous

She's at it again...or should I say still.

After the infamous potato caper, I've taken greater care of my produce and no longer keep unbagged loose temptations like baking potatoes in an open bowl on the counter. But beyond the potato a few other things have turned up in Penny's arsenal....

We're not quite sure what she wanted with the marble chess pawn....but maybe it's like a message to us? We are just pawns in her little game?

When I showed my nephew what had been gathered by our industrious feline, his quick wit came up with the answer: "She's like MacGyver kitty....a potato, some wire, metal screws...she's building a bomb and she's gonna blast her way out of here!" This comment has made me laugh several times. But then today...she showed up under the dining room table with this.

Caught red-pawed.

It's the drill attachment used for heavy duty sanding or filing metal....

Call the bomb squad - she's paw'd and dangerous.

Home and Family is Never Far Away

In October, our nephew-in-law was sworn in as a 2nd Lieutenant in the Army. After 20 years of service as an enlisted man, he is now officially an officer. No matter how many times I ask him to explain the intricacies of life in federal service, I never seem to grasp it. It is full of acronyms and illogic, politics and policies, just well beyond my ability to understand. But one thing that he said during his promotion ceremony that was touching and clear was the thank you he gave to Hubby and I for always making he and his wife and sons always feel that home and family was never far away.


As a military family, they are on the move quite often - to my recollection they've been in Dallas, Pittsburgh, Minneapolis, and D.C. Those postings also included overseas duty in Iraq for him, while my niece held down the homefront. As he completes his officer training over the next 12 weeks, he'll be sorting out where his next posting will take him, and also his family. We all believe it will be farther than the 5 hour drive from us it is now...and we will miss that ability to drive out for a quick weekend visit.

Because my niece is only 9 years younger than I am, and her husband is only 4 years younger, I feel more like a big sister than an Aunt. Although at times I admit I still marvel that J (aka A's mom) has grown to such an incredibly impressive woman, wife, and mother when she is forever in my mind the sweet little girl in the ballet outfit. But now, as a fully grown 40+ year old, I'm feeling aunt-like to her little boys - and such darling Great Nephews we have too.

Little Man A is just at the age where Christmas is truly exciting. As you hand him a box, he exclaims, "What IS it???" in THE most adorable way. He is truly curious and thrilled to see a pretty wrapped package in his hands. Even when he understands the gift may be for his baby brother, he still gets very excited and gives little outbursts as he tears off the paper - the first excitement is finding the box - WOW!! he says, even if it doesn't show anything of the gift inside. Then he opens the box and finds tissue - "Oooh" he says, again still moments away from the gift...then the toy or book or even clothing is revealed and the crowd goes wild. Even when he doesn't know exactly what it is - he loves it because it was part of the gift process.

When do we lose that ability? That ability to be unabashedly excited over the receiving of a loving gift? There is nothing quite like seeing a little one experience Christmas or a Birthday, or even the 4th of July fireworks display is there? Once we become grown-up, beginning - most likely - with the very costly teenage cool years, we surrender that beautiful raw emotion.

Because of that, the joy we have in watching kids in their excitement is that much more magical. It is likely our only chance to re-capture that simple and all-encompassing glee. To remember what it was like to be so damned excited and happy that we couldn't stay still. We had to run around in circles screaming like banshees, or hop up and down until we felt sick, or turn somersaults in the middle of the living room, or even just grin from ear to ear until our cheeks felt they would burst.

Thank you Little Man A and Baby Brother Z, and thank you A's Mom and Dad, and to my sister Jude and her Rob, for a wonderful start to the New Year, filled with glee, laughter, and the simple pleasures of little boys. And for always reminding US that home and family is never far away.

Announcing "Yellow Cottage Chronicles"

Check it out!

I'll still be here - but I wanted a project...something that I would hold myself accountable to, something that would chronicle my trials, tribulations, and checkbook through a year of getting my house in order...literally.

I am one of the most ungifted undomestic people you could ever meet. I live with HGTV envy and spend way too many hours thinking about, discussing, and gazing at home makeover materials. But too little of my time has generated any action. Let's see if I can make a change.

The site itself is still undergoing some construction...I want it to evolve to have some features, some photo galleries, a punch list of projects, a shopping list, a bank account to show my investment levels, etc. I'm working on an organized label list that will help you see the house as it develops room by room. Kiki (formerly of Good Intentions blog) is helping me with the design elements, but we're in no rush. It's like all the other home improvement projects...all in good time, and after suitable planning and shopping for options.

Hope you come join me - I have free stuff to give away too! Check out my first FREEcycle post coming on January 4.

Holidays Half Over

Well, I dropped of Mom and Unc at the airport this morning and so Christmas is officially over. Yesterday we stripped the house of decorations. I know it may seem a little brutal, but I was pretty sure if I didn't get it done then, it might be March and I'd have a fire trap of a tree sitting in my living room.

I made out like a bandit this year - receiving not one, but TWO GPS units. I'm still deciding what to do with the 2nd one. I may gift it to Hubby or go check out my exchange options at Best Buy. I also got the under counter CD/radio unit I wanted for the kitchen (cuz you know I'm such an amazing cook and spend hours there....not...). Hubby installed it right away (another gift!).



This baby even has an iPod connection cord...sweet.

And in case that wasn't enough gadgetry, I also scored a little pocket Canon digital camera. I think Hubby heard me bitching and moaning about the beautiful SLR that I inherited from him when he got his new camera. I'm not a bells and whistle kind of gal. Give me a camera with one button, a large view screen, and can fit into my pocket and I'm a happy girl.

It took these holiday/family photos!

We're heading off for our next half of the holiday - looking forward to seeing my sister, brother-in-law, niece, nephew-in-law, and two great nephews!

Jingle Bells, Batman Smells, Robin Laid an Egg

Well....here we are...at another Christmas. My 42nd Christmas alltold. And they sure seem to come fast and furious these days. It's hard for me to believe we are in the last days of 2009 when I'm still singing Prince's 1999 in my head from that eventful New Year celebration.

The next few days will be filled with family, friends, and food. And, oh yeah, maybe a little alcohol too. Just a little (really!). I splurged on a lovely Cakebread Sauvignon Blanc and I'm just debating if I should share it alone with Hubby tomorrow night before family arrive, or save it for the holiday meal toast....hmmmm.

I hope everyone who stumbles into my virtual world here has a lovely holiday, a happy, healthy and prosperous new year and keep coming back for more. Remember....there will be something new to see on January 1 (it may not be totally cooked yet....but it will start regardless).

Be well. Be happy. And don't eat the yellow snow.

The Mouths of Babes

Yesterday I spent an enjoyable hour sitting at the kitchen counter with one of my most favorite 8 year olds of all time. Miss Chloe was showing off her writing journal and I was struck anew by the young mind and about the sometimes very adult thinking.

On one page, titled "First Day of 3rd Grade" she wrote, "When I was getting on the bus, at first I was scared, but then I sucked it up." I laughed out loud at this entry and so related to the feeling.

Today, as I drove in to work and thought of the myriad of things to do on my desk - many of which I'm still trying to figure out HOW to do - her words rang in my ears and I re-wrote them for myself: "When I was heading to work today, at first I was overwhelmed, but then I sucked it up."

Wise words.

Pay No Attention to the Man Behind the Curtain

This is just going to be a rambling rage against the machine. The machine that is THE MERGER. While I am grateful every day that I have a good job and that I work with good people, this in between phase of we aren't who we were and we aren't who we are going to be is a killer.

We have started, stopped, started and stopped again on so many projects so many times I'm beginning to lose count. On one side, we have our pre-existing management who have definite ideas of how to take the value proposition of our firm into the merged entity, on the other side, we have the mysterious MERGER company that seems to operate in stealth mode with lots of smoke and mirrors. It is a strange combination of a leadership team that seems to be much more business-direct on things, and yet, they are not willing to talk to the players in any interactive way.

Our latest start-stop-start-stop has to do with our brand....who we are as we present ourselves to the marketplace. Will we be MERGER, will we be OLD COMPANY, will we be both? What about our sub brands? what about our Operating Companies? What about in each of the umpteen countries we operate in? what about in each of the 4-5 divisions we have? These are big questions that can have big implications in how well we do in sales of our services going forward. Identity can be a big part of the equation. So recommending a focused team and an objective outside consultant participation seems appropriate. Not to mention the fact that our thinly staffed corporate teams are being run ragged just keeping up with the day to day.

But no. Response: Consultants only tell you what you want to hear (according to one MERGER leader). Well yes....unless you empower them to give their true opinion and factor it in to your decision process. If you aren't going to trust the consultant to know their area of expertise, then why the hell should you hire them. So instead, the "Board" will decide our brand, and the rest of us will execute it.

How the "Board" will come to their decision is a mystery for another day. But since I have about 100 other tasks on my list, I'm going to take a deep breath, let go of my disillusionment with this MERGER, go back to hoping for the best once we get through this painful limbo period, and move on to the next item.

Just somebody, please, tell me when I can peek behind the curtain and get a better understanding of who has their hands on the controls.

Self-Help on an Empty Stomach

This morning I awoke and while Hubby was showering, I opened a little book I picked up on the bargain rack at Borders this weekend: "The Experts' Guide to Life at Home" (hint - this is research for my soon to arrive OTHER blog).

As I scrubbed the crust from my eyes and sighed deeply thinking of another work week to come and all the extra holiday activities scheduled for the evenings, I opened to the first chapter - "Increase Your Energy"

Wow! How timely!

According to this book, "...energy can be acquired through simple strategies, action steps, and power sources." Well, hell, that sounds good to me.

1. Take a 10-minute Thank You walk - essentially walking while thinking about gratitude, because "When you are thankful, it's physiologically impossible to be stressed." Seriously? news to me.


2. Eat Breakfast. Duh.


3. Take 5-10 minute energizer breaths while thinking of "a feel good mantra, such as 'Great things are happening." Ok - starting to sound a little cultish here....


4. Take a B-Complex Vitamin. Guess that makes sense.


5. Eat More Earlier. I loved the sentence here that said, "Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dinner like a college kid with a maxed-out charge card." I generally prescribe to the eat more (period) or maybe eat more chocolate.


6. Exercise. Duh, but how to enjoy it?


7. Healthy snacks. Strangely enough all examples in the text are tied to almonds. I wonder if the author owns some kind of nut stock.


8. Drink Water. Apparently most of us are dehydrated without even knowing it - causing fatigue and headaches....and I thought it was just life.


9. Have fun again - turn on music and dance around the house...actually sounds like a good time.


10. Spend 10 minutes in silence. I have to say I spent a little silent time on Sunday morning and was surprised how strange it seemed to me. I'm so used to waking to the radio, running all day with people, machines, traffic, phone calls, meetings, and tv that I had forgotten how loud quiet could be.


11. Neutralize energy vampires. Has anyone else noticed how vampires have taken over everything? The young adult section in Borders had no books that were not related to some sort of blood-sucking being.


12. etc. etc. etc.

Well - I decided to keep these things in mind as I got ready for work today. I turned on music instead of the normal depressing morning news show. I didn't dance around, but I hummed. A good first step. I drank a big glass of water and then decided to drink another and take a multi-vitamin (after checking the expiration date, because I couldn't remember the last time I had used one) that was rich in Vitamin B.

Within minutes though, I realized that I had forgotten a step. I hadn't eaten breakfast! And my stomach immediately began to rebel against the 2 large glasses of water sloshing in my gut along with the vitamin (oh and I took a calcium pill too). The sweat began to break out on my upper lip as I tried to apply make-up, blow dry my hair (and no way was I turning my head upside down for extra volume today!) and quell the nausea rising in my throat. Finally, nearing the limits of my psychological warfare against barfing, I skittered down to the kitchen and broke out some crackers. I sat at the table (for my 10 minutes of silence) and began my positive mantra of gratitude.

"Thank you for graham crackers left over from the pie we made last week. Thank you for moving the meeting to 9:30 so I have time to sit for 10 minutes in silence and swallow graham crackers and bile. Thank you, thank you, thank you for not hurling all over the bathroom I just cleaned."

I think I did pretty well for my first day's attempt at living an expert life at home. Don't you?

It's Coming on Christmas

Well, the tree is up and decorated..I'm shuffling furniture and every day decorations to make room for things green, red, white, gold, crystal, and glistening. Every plug is full, the front and back doors are wreathed, and the dining room table actually has a tablecoth instead of a puzzle on top.

We've spent the last two hours enjoying Love Actually, the ultimate modern holiday movie. And I'm about to start tackling the gift wrapping...

I must admit that the duties of Christmas often overwhelm the joy of it all, but having most of it behind me two weeks prior to the date goes a long way toward making it bright and enjoyable.

Last night, friends we rarely get to see stopped by to quickly borrow some supplies for an event and their two adorable daughters wandered our house exclaiming at decorations, lights, and candles. The one who is, I've discovered, an anti-pyromaniac, actually secretly blew out every candle I had. But more importantly, she gave me about 10 hugs and drew me a picture with an I "heart" you message.

And really, what else could you want for Christmas?

I Think I Must be Crazy

As you can tell, I'm having a hard time getting to blogging these days. Sporadic is the word of the month. And yet...I'm cooking something up....something that will require a year-long commitment from me on a blog/activity project...and I think I must be stone-cold nuts to try it.

But here's the thing. I don't have any kids. I don't even have a dog. And while my cats are always happy to see me, they don't really need me. My hubby? He needs me. He needs me in the best way possible. He just likes to see me, be near me, talk to me...otherwise, he's pretty self-sufficient. The job? Yeah - it is really demanding. But with the MERGER, all things are up in the air. The school thing? Yeah - the assignments and the semesters keep rolling along, and the thesis thing is hanging over my head and is coming up quick. But life keeps moving along too swiftly to do only one thing at a time, so I've got to make the time work for me.

So, the intrepid Kiki (formerly of Good Intentions blog...I'm trying to revive her, but she's become a facebook and Jewels game fanatic instead) is going to help me set it all up. She's going to partner with me in my journey into insanity. And if we've timed everything out right, January 1 will be a whole new blog of fun for Wenderina.

I have no doubt that since the other 99% of my life will continue that Anxious Moments will still have a place and plenty of content. My anxiety ain't going anywhere, and this will remain the home blog for my various ramblings.

But as for the other blog...get ready...get set....

Conversations Over Dinner

Last week as I travelled for business I was able to enjoy the one true benefit of business travel. Putting faces to names of people you deal with long distance all the time. Enjoying a meal and a glass of wine with these folks is the best part of the trip.

One individual in particular was a joy to spend time with because he has such passion for, well, everything, as I found out. In our meetings he cut to the point immediately, made plenty of jokes along the way, but was all about getting to the answer. He listened and was appreciative of expertise and input that was not his own ideas, and yet I never doubted who was the leader in the room. His passion extended beyond his work and an interesting dinner conversation began like this.

• Scene: New restaurant in downtown Denver.
• Surroundings: hip, happening, all waitresses slinky and sexy in black short skirts.

Me: [commenting on wait staff] Well, they're hot but they're slow...I guess you are supposed to forgive them because they're so damn hot (made by me, not one of the men at the table)

Him: Yes....these girls are hot, but I have to say, I've been married to my wife for about 15 years and she has NEVER been hotter than she is right now.

Me: [melting] really?

Female Colleague (His "Work Wife"): What is it, do you think, that makes you feel that way?

Him: Honestly? [sips drink] I think it's her bootie. Damn, she's got a fine bootie.

Me: [laughing] Tell us more.

Him: I can't keep my hands off her...if it wasn't for those damn kids...we'd be all over each other all the time.

Me: Oh - you have kids - how old are they?

Him: [deep drink, deeper sigh] The boys are 3 and 5.....

Me: Oh how swe....

Him: NO. No. No. They are not sweet. [eyes twinkling, but shaking his head miserably] They are HORRIBLE. Just Horrible. If I could just get rid of them, it would be just me and my wife again....then, let the games commence!

----

Not exactly the conversation you might have around the conference room table, which is why I enjoy the dinner opportunities. But how cute was it that all the 20-something hotties couldn't detract from him thinking about his hot 40-something wife at home and his "horrible" kids that just keep him from getting in her pants 24/7.

He's now officially on my favorites list.

Hugs or Handshakes

I'm a bit of a tight-ass. Didn't you know? Well, yes I am.

I'm also a bit of a prude. If you didn't know that, you are a moron. Have you seen one single reference to S.E.X. in this entire blog?

Yesterday I had the same experience that recurs whenever I travel on business. When I greet people that I "know" well - via email, or periodic meetings, do we hug? or do we handshake? Essentially we have a very limited relationship. I don't know their spouse's name (or their spouse's gender). I don't know their kids (or even if they have them). I don't know their age. I don't know where they live or how they live. I don't know much of anything actually....although we are (corporate) war time buddies...which is saying something.

Today as I was walking into our Denver office I ran into a pack of my colleagues. I don't think I've seen these folks in over a year. As they approached, I began to wonder....ok is this a hug or a handshake moment.... ???? My prudish, tight-ass mind began to click away.

Being a nearly 6 foot tall female - and not the skinny model type - I have a bit of a physical presence. Think Cheerleader Coach from Glee folks. This morning I was wearing my new kick-ass boots - with 3 inch heels...so add that to the mix. One of the colleagues (male) is about 5'2" ...hugging him would cause an immediate issue of face to boobage quandary. Another is about 6'0"...but I've met him only once. Another - a lovely 6'2"ish - I didn't recognize at all, but I'm bound to have talked to him on the phone many many times. And lastly a female - friendly and fun (to my recollection), but not in my normal circle.

What to do, what to do.

With only fractions of seconds to decide the right course of action, I quickly stuck my hand out to the 5'2" incher and then bent to brush cheeks briefly. Then embraced the woman with a joke about warming up in the brutal 8 degree weather. The 6'0 unknown guy...he just followed the crowd and gave me the half embrace welcome. The 6'2" was an introductory handshake and yessir, I did know him from many a phone call and email transaction, but had never met him in person.

Awkward moment passed.

But it is amazing how much easier it is to make this decision when departing the same group at the end of a long day of meetings, hard work, laughs, strategies, jokes, and finally a meal with wine. Hugs and kisses all around...when can we all meet again, we cry....how much we love one another, we declare....how valuable the time we spent, we agree.

12 hours difference in time....but a huge leap in relationship and socially acceptable touching.

Left Hanging

Keep commenting on my previous post...you guys have some interesting ideas...

------

When I was in college Hubby and I had cassette players (for those of you who don't remember those, shut up and go to a younger person's blog, I have no time to educate you in defunct technology). Cassettes were a great tool for making copies of records (yes, I know, another defunct technology...but it's making a comeback!). Hubby was a fan of Harry Chapin and had made some cassette copies of albums. Unfortunately, he did a piss-poor job of figuring out how much tape there was to use in comparison to the album and the last song left us hanging....every g*ddamn time.

The song was: A Better Place to Be. And if you know Harry Chapin, you know that every song he writes is a well-crafted story - compelling characters, an arc, a life lesson.

This was the song we would listen to:

A Better Place To Be

It was an early morning bar room,
And the place just opened up.
And the little man came in so fast and
he Started at his cups.
And the broad who served the whisky
She was a big old friendly girl.
Who tried to fight her empty nights
By smilin' at the world.

And she said "Hey Bub, It's, It's been awhile
Since you been around.
Where the hell you been hidin'?
And why you look so down?"

Well the little man just sat there
like he'd never heard a sound.

The waitress she gave out with a cough,
And acting not the least put off,
She spoke once again.

She said, "I don't want to bother you,
Consider it's understood.
I know I'm not no beauty queen,
But I sure can listen good."

And the little man took his drink in his hand
And he raised it to his lips.
He took a couple of sips.
And then he told the waitress this story.

"I am the midnight watchman down at Miller's Tool and Die.
And I watch the metal rusting, I watch the time go by.
A week ago at the diner I stopped to get a bite.
And this here lovely lady she sat two seats from my right.
And Lord, Lord, Lord she was alright.

You see, she was so damned beautiful that she could warm a winter frost.
But she looked long past lonely, and well I on to lost.
Now I'm not much of a mover, or a pick-em-up easy guy,
But I decided to glide on over, and give her one good try.
And Lord, Lord, Lord she was worth a try.

Well I was "Tongued-tied like a school boy, I stammered out some words.
It did not seem to matter much, 'cause I don't think she heard.
She just looked clear on through me to a space back in my head.
It shamed me into silence, as quietly she said,
'If you want me to come with you, then that's all right with me.
Cause I know I'm going nowhere, and anywhere's a better place to be.
Anywhere's a better place to be.'

Well I drove her to my boarding house, and I took her up to my room.
And I went to turn on the only light to brighten up the gloom.
But she said, 'Please leave the light off, oh I don't mind the dark.'
And as her clothes all tumbled 'round her, I could hear my heart.
The moonlight shone upon her as she lay back in my bed.
It was the kind of scene I only had imagined in my head.
I just could not believe it, to think that she was real.
And as I tried to tell her she said 'Shhh.. I know just how you feel.
And if you want to come here with me, then that's all right with me.
'Cause I've been oh so lonely, lovin' someone is a better way to be.
anywhere's a better place to be.'

Well The morning come so swiftly I held her in my arms.
And she slept like a baby, snug and safe from harm.
I did not want to share her or dare to break the mood,
So before she woke I went out to buy us both some food.

"I came back with my paper bag, to find that she was gone.
She'd left a six word letter saying.....

ARGHH!!!! Saying WHAT??? What???? What????

This was the day before Internet folks. There was no Googling the answer. And yes, I supposed we could have gone to the RECORD STORE (yeah yeah, whatever - no Amazon or itunes either) but we were poor college students and for some reason we just continually tortured ourselves with not knowing the 6 words....

Imagine my frustration then, when my little blog reader posted a teasing entry from Erin at Poor Penmanship that went like this:

"So, I’m flying back to Iowa for Thanksgiving, and the woman in front of me at airport security has a bullet casing in her purse. A bullet casing. The TSA guy pulls it out of a makeup bag thingy and says..."

When I click on the link to read the post - it's not there!!!! A subsequent post indicated the previous post had been inadvertently deleted from a mobile device...but I'm sorry...I CANNOT go through that again. I must know! I must, I must. What did the TSA guy say? And how many words were in the sentence? I'm actively lobbying Erin for an answer....

***UPDATE*** Erin answered in the comments!

And for those of you who wish to know the end of Harry's song;

...'It's time that I moved on.'" (THE SIX WORDS!!!)

{and here's the life lesson...A whole 'nother section to the song I was without for all those years}

You know The waitress she took her bar rag, and she wiped it across her eyes. And as she spoke her voice came out as something like a sigh.
She said "I wish that I was beautiful, or that you were halfway blind.
And I wish I weren't so g*ddamn fat, I wish that you were mine.
And I wish that you'd come with me, when I leave for home.
For we both know all about emptiness, and livin' all alone."

And the little man, Looked at the empty glass in his hand.
And he smiled a crooked grin, He said, "I, I guess I'm out of gin.
And I know we both have been, so lonely. And if you want me to come with you, then that's all right with me. 'Cause I know I'm goin' nowhere and anywhere's a better place to be."

So much more satisfying to know the end of the story.

Whaddya Think?

I'm a group thinker...I may have my mind made up before I start, but I like the group to agree with me...so I've been thinking of setting up my own little 365 day blog for 2010. You know the type, 365 days, 365 recipes...or living like Oprah...or some such nonsense. I'm just looking to focus this hobby a bit.

So here are my top 3 ideas:

1. The Cozy Cottage: Follow a Career Woman with domestic disabilities as she attempts to create a cozy home room by room.
   
2. Twelve. Read and discuss the books published by Twelve in 2010.
   
3. No Boob Tube. Watch me go crazy-nuts without any television, DVR, or even hulu in 2010.

I have to be honest. As a self-proclaimed TV addict number 3 frankly scares the bejesus out of me. I think it scares Hubby too as he would have to live with me. But he did say, if I selected number 3 I would probably be surprised how much time I had on my hands and would be able to do all three blogs without breaking a sweat!

Let me know your preferences - or bring a new idea to the table - but be warned...I'll be making up my own mind.

Over the River and Through the Woods...

I cannot believe it is Thanksgiving tomorrow. Absolutely cannot. What is happening to time these days? It goes by much too quickly. This blog is the only thing in my life that helps me keep a calendar in perspective...I scroll back through the years I have been blogging and so, I yeah, I remember that moment...was it really 2 years ago?

I'm doing the last minute stuff I need to do to get out of town while my nephew snoozes on my couch. He volunteered to come be here for the delivery of his 9 boxes of belongings - all that is left since he sold off his "household" in Seattle. I believe the sell-off consisted of some 1960's retro furniture given new life from Goodwill, a large flat panel TV (don't need it - have a computer and hulu), and a bed. His remaining belongings will be safely ensconced in our garage until he locks down his new apartment in Brooklyn. I think he has to sell a camera to make the deposit, but such is the life of a 20's guy who likes to freelance through life.

He's grown up though...he's really an interesting human being. We spent last night chatting about any number of random things and (gasp) never even turned on the tv.

So now he snoozes until they arrive with the boxes. While I am doing a (very) little work, running loads of laundry, packing up the last of the weekend needs, and making the last Thanksgiving recipe. Tonight it is over the river and through the woods to Mama Lou's house we go. The weekend is packed with possibilities but not everything is locked down, as is my preference.

Tomorrow is the big meal with cousin Suzie and crew - and if the day breaks early we may stop at an old friends in the evening for a quick hello. Friday will likely be some shopping with Mama Lou - NOT THAT BLACK FRIDAY CRAZINESS folks, but just wandering through the little antique centers we love. Friday night may be dinner with friends if everyone feels like going out vs. leftovers (tempting, tempting) and

Saturday we go to see the live play of "A Christmas Story". I have threatened hubby with duct tape over his mouth if he cannot refrain from reciting every line of it - but I'm sure I'll have to give him a pass on "Fra-GEEL-LAY...it must be Italian!" because of the unfettered joy I will see on his face when he says it. We'll gather with some dear family friends for dinner afterward and then suddenly it will be time to head home early on Sunday.

Sigh.

It's like it's almost over already.

So I'm going to rewind a bit, enjoy the moments of today...and look forward to tomorrow. I wish you and yours a healthy, happy, prosperous harvest this Thanksgiving.

Environmental Art

I love it when someone takes something that seems like trash, or waste, and turns it into something interesting....

Check this out (sorry for commercial!):

MERGER Miscommunications

I love trying to learn how to communicate with MERGER company. We truly have different vocabularies and styles...Here is a sample email exchange (some details changed to protect subject info and identities, but I promise no license for comic purposes.)

Wenderina to MERGER Comm Team (MCT):

Hi guys – happy Monday! I was hoping you might provide me with a complete list of MERGER Operating Companies (OpCos)? We recently created matrices for capabilities in the [widget] business (for meeting next week) based on a model [Global Leader] sent us for [other widgets], but I believe we are missing some OpCos. I wanted to cross-check against a master list.

Let me know if you can provide one.

MCT to Wenderina:

SILENCE

FIVE DAYS LATER...

MCT Member to Wenderina:
You can find all the OpCos in our annual report 2008 (attached) or on [MERGER Intranet] or at www.[MERGER].com.

Let me know if you need another kind of info.

Wenderina to MCT Member:
Thank you MCT Member. We don’t have access to [MERGER Intranet] yet, but good to know the global website listing is the right info.

MCT Member to Wenderina:
Did you see them in the annual report?

Wenderina to MCT Member:
To tell you the truth, not really. While I saw some breakdowns in financials, as well as the organizational diagram on p. 112…I just wasn’t sure what equated to Operating Company as that is defined.

MCT Member to Wenderina:
Yes.

???? Yes ????

No, puzzled reader, I did not skip a step in relating this communication string to you. That was honestly the response I got to my last comment/question. This is the professional Communications Team we are joining with. G*d help us.

So, how would I have answered this request if it came from them to us?

Well, within one day, I would have sent an email with a listing of the OpCos clearly defined. Then, I would have pointed to where exactly in the Annual Report and where exactly on the global website the info could be found.

And, if someone had asked me for clarification of definition of Op Co, I would NOT have answered "yes".

Geez. Communications 101, folks.

Let the Commercial Blood-Letting Begin

Despite all the vampire fervor this week with that Twilight movie thing happening, the bloodletting I'm speaking of is purely in my wallet. Hubby took the weekend and ran up to visit friends and hang some of his photography in a Cape Cod Gallery (Fresh Paint in Yarmouth Port, stop by if you are in the area!) but I, sadly, stayed home. We have been running non-stop since the end of August and I needed a break.

What did I do with said break, you ask?

Well, I woke up at 5:45 AM when Hubby kissed me good-bye and didn't get back to sleep, so that blew my plan of sleeping in. After fighting it for a while, I got up at about 8 and started puttering around the house. I removed the A/C units from the bedroom windows and stored them in our pitifully small closet. The only good thing about a Cape style house is the bottom of the closets are super deep due to the pitched roof. I shimmied those bad boy A/C units all the way to the back and then stacked all the rest of our various junk items in front of them.

I picked up all the odds and ends on the 2nd floor, essentially shifting piles from one place to another, made the bed, wiped down the bathroom, and sauntered downstairs. I fixed myself a yogurt and cereal breakfast and sat down to make some lists. I knew the stores were in my future, but I was reluctant to leave the peace of the house (a regular feeling for me). So, I puttered with laundry, and cleaning the kitchen, and straightening my desk. Then I tackled the 2-year old vat of home-brew that never quite made it to bottling and sent it down the drain. Believe me - it was not tempting to test it.

After shooing away the Watchtower crowd on my front porch, I headed out the back, re-set the pool cover where our overly zealous landscapers had used their leaf blowers to blow up/out everything on site (although the yard does look vacuum clean!) and finally with a deep sigh, got into the car.

I hit ONE plaza y'all. ONE. For 5 hours. After wandering up and down every aisle of the Kohl's and the Marshall's I decided it was time for moi. And I made a beeline for the Annie Sez. Two suits folks. Two suits for $120.00 total. Gotta love Annie Sez. Then I hit the Payless and picked up some cute shoes and my first pair of boots in about 8 years (very cute and very imprudent being unlined and high-heeled, but love them) and a few cute pairs of shoes on their BOGO sale.

Lest you think I am awfully selfish on this my first day of Christmas shopping, I can assure you much more was spent on others than myself, and I made a good dent, but I'm not done yet.

What next on my leisurely day off? I went to the grocery store and (holy hell) spent more there than on 4 suits getting the basics for my contributions to Thanksgiving and a few staples for us. Can you say, "Jacked up prices?" The price on the cranberries and pumpkin was outrageous.

After unloading my car in about 20 trips, I started the cranberry relish (simply yum-deli-icious folks) and just inhaled the holiday goodness of that simmering on the stove. This was followed by my Mom's famous apple bread recipe which bakes for 1.5 hours so I finally got my feet up for a rest. Tomorrow I'll get to work on the Sweet Potato Casserole. Check out these recipes here.

And maybe while things are baking, I'll wrap a present or two. I feel some Luciano Pavarotti Christmas music coming on too. Have you started your Christmas rituals yet?

Define Job Satisfaction

This last couple of weeks were a little tough on Hubby. What I've always known, and appreciated, about him, is his pretty impossibly high standards. He operates by them and expects others to do the same. In particular, he values honesty, integrity, good work ethic, and accountability. Of course he is also very human and can be counted on to be empathetic and flexible and an all round good guy. Yes I know I'm biased, but I can confidently state the majority of people who know him would say the same. Sometimes he's an idealist and I try to ground him in the idea that corporate america is just not the place to find pure inspiration and perfect operation. First of all, it's populated by humans...and second, it is an inherently tension-rich environmental structure.

I won't get into the details here as it isn't my story to tell, but it raised the question in my mind, how do I define job satisfaction?

Unlike Hubby - who has worked at 7 different places in the past 20 years, I have been at 2.001. One for less than a year, the other for over 19...the .001 refers to a job I held for 2 weeks. I definitely experienced my share of job DISsatisfaction at the first two jobs, but the last one always seems to keep coming up positive on the balance sheet.

I guess that is the clue - that there is a balance sheet. There are days - many in fact - that I wonder what the hell I'm doing. But I truly don't dread getting up in the morning and going to work. And I truly don't groan every time my phone rings or blackberry buzzes. And I definitely appreciate the paycheck and benefits I receive. Most of all though, is I enjoy the people I work with, and mostly, for. And therein, I think, is the key.

My cousin, also having a tough time at work these days, just told me of a quote she heard once in a Human Resources seminar, "People don't leave companies, they leave bosses." While that may seem simplistic and there are certainly more reasons than toxic boss relationships that move people from company to company, I see that having a toxic boss is definitely a reason to leave.

But what I can ALSO say, without equivocation is: Having good people around you - at all levels - is definitely a reason to stay.

What Kind of Snob Are You?

I've come to realize I'm high-class in attitude only.

Today at lunch, I strolled the Whole Foods with BL (Boss Lady) and I was totally intimidated. By the selection of high-falluting foods and accessories, by the wealthy SAHMs and their kids in designer strollers and their coach diaper bags, by the number of foods that I could not identify by package or even by name. Give me a good old Stop & Shop with kraft food products, pre-packaged dinners, and aisle-side coupon dispensers. I'll take my A&P with bright flourescent lighting and give back the flattering subdued soft light and quaint floor tiles of Whole Foods.

The truth is, I'm such a snob, that I need to be able to shop in a place where I can look DOWN on the the shopping conditions. I need to be able to laugh at the mis-spellings on the aisle signs, snort in disgust when I can never find someone at the meat counter, and dispair at the quality of the 99-cent greeting cards. It does not serve my interests to feel "less than" when I am shopping for frozen pizza and bagged salad.

This is likely the reason I don't shop at Nordstroms either. At Kohls, Target, Macy's or Annie Sez there is piped in scratchy pop music - at Nordstrom's there is a live piano player - seriously? a live piano player? I mean THAT is intimidating.

I have a lovely woman who has been cleaning my home for the past 7 years. I cannot be home when she is there, because I can live with the snobbishness of having someone scrub my toilets, but I cannot be there to observe it and feel like I am contributing to a class society.

I can take a car service to the airport, but I have to carry my own bags and I have to be chatty cathy with the drivers (despite the language gaps), because despite my sense of entitlement in being driven curbside to curbside for my own convenience I can't possibly be rude enough to treat the driver as a second class citizen.

My clothes are mostly 10 years old. My shoes are from Payless. I do my own nails because I haven't been able to find a salon where I feel comfortable having someone else clean my nails and scrub dead cells from the bottom of my feet. My quality jewelry is hand-me-down or gifts, or else it cost less than $10/piece and turns my neck green. I throw money at problems and at people, but can't seem to put it into quality when it requires walking into a fancy store.

My friends buy coach bags. I buy pleather.

Yet I have a diva attitude that just won't quit.

I think I am quite the strangest snob on the planet.

Don't Let the Door Hit You in the Ass...

My office, in this post 9/11 world, is rather particular about security. You see, we have in our hot little hands and files some critical design information about the nation's water and wastewater facilities. Because of this, we take securing that info, and of course our people, pretty seriously.

Main doors are open for entry only during fixed work hours. Beyond those hours, you can use a swipe card to gain entry. On 4 floors, entry to stairwells and/or any staff area from the hallway requires a swipe card 24 hours of the day. Needless to say, we keep our swipe cards on our person at all times.

This weekend, I stopped into the office after my full day of school. I plugged in my computer, called Hubby with a location/status update, and determined while the computer was logging in to take a bathroom break and get a soda. As I exited my department into the hall, the door swung shut right behind me and BAM! I realized my swipe card was sitting on my desk.

On any regular workday, no sweat, you borrow a visitor pass from reception and get back in. On a Saturday after 5pm, the place was pretty much a ghost town. After rambling around the square hallway passages for a few moments trying every door in vain and looking for signs of other weekend workers...I sat down in reception to think. I wasn't panicked, but I was certainly and frustratingly puzzled as to how to solve this problem short of calling 911.

I tried the extensions for the IT helpdesk (supposed to be manned 24x7) and the general counsel's office (he is a maniac worker here about 24x7) but no answer. I then determined to call my Hubby....but I forgot the lobby phones are not enabled for external calls. Finally, I decided to try calling the external operator - and after an annoying long pause, it finally clicked through. I made a collect call (what a blast from the past...don't think I've done that since my poverty-stricken college days) home.

For once, my forgetfulness was helpful as I had left my blackberry at home and Hubby was able to mine it for some of my colleague's home numbers. Before any of them could save me however, I heard the telltale swish and clang of the elevator in motion. I jumped to the wall and hit every button there was and started calling, "Helloooooo....Helloooooooo" into the crack in the door. With my lips nearly attached to the elevator doors, they slid open, and there were some rather shifty looking characters as surprised to see me as I was to see them. They were in the building doing some necessary electrical repairs. Their passes allowed me access and soon I was back at my desk.

Today, I considered sending a note to our building manager for a consideration of punch key pads to alleviate this situation, but I was afraid his response would be, "Since I've only heard of this happening once in 30 years here and it was you, perhaps I would suggest that you not let the door hit you in the ass on the way out...at least not without your swipe card in hand."

Is that the Death Rattle I hear?

She was a young single girl living in San Francisco. Her first apartment was found over a restaurant downtown. The previous tenants warned her of the disadvantages of restaurant proximity...namely, mice! Thinking ahead, she ensured the landlord would allow for a cat in the lease agreement.


Never having owned a cat, she was pleased when a friend told her she had found a young stray. "Sounds good," she matter-of-factly responded. She refused to be sentimental about the selection of this pet - this animal was to be used as a tool. This animal was to be her mouser. This animal was a co-habitating partner not a family member.


The cat, recognizing a non-cat person, realized that the idea of a handy litter box might not be something her new "owner" would possess. No matter, thought the feline, this potted palm is perfectly acceptable for my needs.


"How neat!" exclaimed the girl, "the cat finds her own patch of dirt, no need for late night walkies!"


That night, the cat determined, regardless of the girl's lack of understanding of the needs of the great feline race, she would cozy up and grab what warmth she could in the night. She curled up around the neck of the young girl and went to sleep.


The next day, the girl determined that a trip to the vet was a necessity and bundled up the cat for a visit. When the vet entered the room, the girl looked at him sadly and said, "I'm sorry to say, I think this cat is doomed....in fact I think her death is imminent."


Surprised, as the cat appeared to be quite active and healthy, the vet questioned the girl as to her evidence of illness.


"Well," she said, "she has a bad breathing problem...and I'm sure it's only a matter of time."


The vet examined the cat thoroughly, listening hard to lungs and heart to see if he could determine the problem. After he completed his exam, he stroked the cat as he spoke to the young girl some more.


Suddenly the girl said, "There! That sound! That's it."



The vet looked at her with pity. "Ah yes....that sound. Well, that is a sound I know only too well. Tell me young lady, you've never had a cat before have you?"

"No...no...this is my first time." said the young girl sadly, "Is it very bad?"

"Oh no," said the vet solemnly, "That my dear, is what we in the industry call...a purr."

----
Told in all honesty to Wenderina by Boss Lady...a most savvy and with-it chick who has obviously learned a few tricks in the past 30 years.

The Things You Learn...

Last night I went out with some colleagues. Since the MERGER we're making a concerted effort to get out, have a drink (the club is actually called Just One) and do a little bonding, venting, laughing, complaining, or whatever is required on any given date. This was only the second club meeting - the first was ok, but a little depressing. Everyone was very stressed about the MERGER and we were in the middle of our first budgeting cycle with the new parent company which caused some...well...angst? But last night, we were a little more light-hearted and oh the things I learned.

Story #1: Closing Out Bad Health

The only gent in our group last night - DLR - proceeded to tell us a story of a health scare he had several years ago...in a very humorous way. It manifested in waking each morning with a great feeling of heaviness and constriction of his chest and after a couple of weeks, he really feared for a serious condition. He went to the Dr. and was run through an extensive cadre of tests....all coming back clean.

Suddenly, his Dr. asked - do you have pets???

Why yes, answered DLR.

Are they large or small?

Well, I have a cat and a dog and the dog is mid-sized, the cat is large and fat - about 25 pounds.

Do they sleep in the bed with you?

Well, yes they do.

Ok, here is what I want you to do - I want you to set a low volume alarm for about 2:30AM.

Why?

Just do it.

Result: DLR sets alarm and at the quiet beep, beep, beep he awakes and finds his cat - all 25 pounds of her - curled up on his chest.

Doctor, Doctor - I woke up and this is what I found...

Aha - that is what I suspected - having 25 pounds on your chest for several hours a night can cause some serious pain and discomfort when you awake.

But what should I do, Dr. to stop her from doing this - I'm asleep - how do I keep her from climbing on my chest??

And then the Doctor - with great patience and solemnity - told my very smart friend:

{can you guess the answer? scroll down to see.}
















When you go to bed? Close the damn door.

Humble Thanks

HLM (Dad) 1926-2003

Today is one of the few days designated to remember the fallen and to thank those men and women who stand on a wall and take our national interests to heart and to arms.

Today is one of the many days that I reflect on how lucky I am to live in a country where my right to protest war is as protected by a person in uniform as is my neighbors right to support it.

Today is the day, with no sense of hypocrisy at all, I wore my peace symbol t-shirt while donating to the U.S. Navy-Marine Corps Relief Society in memory of my father and uncle, and in honor of their youngest brother - all veterans who served their country with a sense of duty and honor.

How did you thank a veteran today?

It's because of my typos, isn't it?

Typos have cursed me most of my life. About 20 years ago, when I was searching desperately for work, I had 4 interviews in one day. My current Company (shall remain nameless here), Reader's Digest (dream job), Pepsi Co headquarters (free DP for life!), and a financial firm ($$$$). My Company was at the bottom of my list.

Because I was going for an entry level job - every company gave me a typing test with my interview...every company except MY Company, that is. You guessed it, one offer on the table when it was over and it was the job without the typing test.

I can't regret it as the journey at this company has taken me from entry-level administrative assistant to a manager of a national team with plenty of interesting side-trips and challenges along the way.

Today, I listened to NPR and the BBC's coverage of the mother of a slain soldier in Britain lambasting the Prime Minister for, among many other things, 25 typos in the letter of condolence he sent to her family. Her real complaint was the lack of helicopters to save her son from bleeding to death, but the typos hurt enough for her to count and present to the Prime Minister as an insult that she took great umbrage with.

Every year, when I do that holiday letter thing (which has shrunk to a holiday post card in recent years) I have a "friend" who delights in receiving it and immediately calling me to point out my typos - which range from the traditional typo to the misuse of a word, or a comma, or other grammatical error. I claim to be a writer. I did graduate with a 4-year degree in English. But hell, sometimes my mind and my fingers are not in sync. And sometimes, I don't care enough to spend the extra time to proof read. So sue me.

In the hop-skip-jump way my thoughts work, I was admiring the new layout and content at the Women's Colony today and recalled Mrs. G contacting me this summer to write an article from the working woman perspective. I took my sweet time getting back to her (a month) with my article, and then suggested perhaps the WC could use a working woman room (a Den?) that I'd love to contribute to on a regular basis.

I haven't heard back.

It's been more than two months.

And I wonder if it's because of my typos.

Despite my masterful procastination....

I entered the weekend convinced I would get everything done that needed to happen. The biggest priority - my term paper for Leading Change class due next weekend. And as my master plan unfolded (or disintegrated)....this is how my weekend went.

1. Plan to stay late at office on Friday when all is quiet and do some further outlining of paper and annotate articles.
   What happened? Well....a good friend came by my desk to do some bragging on her kids and then we talked for about 2 hours and then I answered some emails and then...I played with some stuff on my desk...and then....well...it was time to go home.


2. Plan to get to bed early, then get up Saturday AM and head to the gym. Also hit friend's new store opening in Valley Cottage and maybe Annie Sez for the great sale going on. Then come home, hit the books, while laundry runs and get that paper done.
   What happened? I fell asleep on the couch after hubby went to bed (around 1AM) and woke up at 5AM all befuddled. I crawled upstairs and washed the grime and smeared makeup from my face and climbed under the covers. Next eye opener - 11AM. Given my inability to enact my plan as envisioned, I froze and stayed in bed watching movies until 4PM when I had to get up to have dinner with my in-laws.


3. Plan to come home from dinner and relax, then get an early start Sunday, go to gym (missed on Saturday) and go to friend's new store (missed on Saturday), and forego the Annie Sez sale in order to get home and do laundry (missed on Saturday) and finish paper (now a must do!)
   What happened? I fell asleep when we got home from dinner (8:30PM!) but at least this time I was in bed - woke up at 3AM dying for water and then found myself awake until about 6AM. Finally fell back to sleep until more acceptable hour of 9AM....but couldn't motivate my ass out of bed. I mean after all - what was waiting for me but a workout, homework, and laundry - yuck.


4. All Plans abandoned or blown, I finally hit the computer at 12 noon, with a yogurt in my tummy, but no ab crunches completed, at which time I spent about 2 hours surfing and goofing around on blogs, making popcorn and eventually starting the laundry, playing with cats, reading 2 chapters from a novel, checking out HGTV site for bedroom designs, and Bed Bath & Beyond for duvet covers. Finally, as hubby got home from his lodge duties at about 4:30PM I'm settling into the paper...working at a record pace I slam through the materials and write write write write for 3 straight hours and I'm done. 10 page paper complete and proofread, printed and ready to go. Oh - and 5th/last load of laundry in dryer!

I love it when a plan comes together, don't you?

Two-Way Communication

I'm thinking I need to change the name of my blog. I've been focusing so much on communication lately - because it is my work, and my school focus...and well communication is everywhere right? Anyway...that's just a sideline to today's topic: Two-Way Communication.


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I've been reading more blogs these days. The Women's Colony has some great writers and great readers with blogs of their own, so I've been linking in here and there to check people out who comment on the WC and also to scan through their blog rolls. A little fresh content to read, I guess. And in the way of good blogging, I'm trying to connect with people with a little two - way communication by posting a comment here or there.


One of these forays took me to a great site - Swistle's - and some insights on voting: namely, what should and should not be fodder for our politicians. It thought her post was excellent and not just because I agree with her position. It was clean, concise and unemotional. It was logical and respectful. And let's face it when it comes to issues like voting on gay marriage, people's emotions typically take over. I decided her post deserved some positive feedback and so I moved to the comment link.


And. Then. I. Paused.


She had over 100 comments. Hmmmm. Is this typical traffic for Swistle I wondered or had the controversial topic, even so respectfully handled, driven the crazies out for a ride?


Still, I thought, I'd like to connect with this person. This post was worth my attention and my effort to comment. I scrolled all the way down to the bottom and typed a polite and insightful comment (if I do say so myself). Then I glanced at the comment above and my jaw dropped open. Leaving my draft comment in place, I continued scrolling and realized there was a bit of a knock-down-drag-out happening in the comment section of Swistle's blog. All of the emotion she had managed to keep out of the post was spilling over in the comment section and I could almost see in my mind's eye the rabid hordes of protesters standing on either side of her home screaming at one another.


My blood began to boil as I felt the emotion that too often clouds our judgment in these matters rise to the level of her other commenters. I called on specific names to rebut their arguments and positions, I wrote and re-wrote the response which was growing longer and more emotional by the minute. Any of you who read my blog normally know my rather rigid stance against organized religion and that OR thing was all over this blog. Then, by some happenstance, my computer blue-screened and all of my vitriol was wiped out in one moment.


Today, I went back to Swistle's site and checked on the status. The comments were up to nearly 150 at this point and most of them were a continuing argument between a few rabid players. I was happy, I determined, that my computer had saved me from engaging in the battle as my peaceful little blog has thus far escaped too much controversy and poison from readers somehow offended by my lonely little opinions.


However, I wonder if this very relief is indicative of how the moderates in the world end up allowing the extremists on either side to do their speaking for them. Is this how, on election day, the rights of our fellow humans are trampled upon? Because there are more voices raised in hate than in acceptance? Is it a lesson to learn that quiet acceptance of differences cannot be the norm until LOUD PROPONENTS of differences prevail?


So, from here, I'm heading back to Swistle's blog and put my two cents out there. But I'm going to try and moderate my comments with respect and logic and quiet fortitude and leave the vitriol to others.

But MO-OM I don't wanna go to school

This is echoing through my head as I prepare for my last class of the semester and enroll for my next semester in the seemingly never-ending pursuit of my master's degree. I'm feeling particularly anti-school today because I have a group project (collective groan from all my fellow-suffering grad students) due next weekend.

I work in groups all the time at my office. In fact, I rarely do anything completely alone and thrive from collective brainstorming, consensus building, and co-authoring of written materials. I would NEVER complete something without getting someone else to weigh in...it just sharpens my process and final deliverable.

But at school, with people who just aren't motivated or interested in participating, I'm sick of the group project. Just leave me alone to do my reading, writing, and class participation without the rest of you, thank you very much.

This weekend I must complete my own final paper on "Leading Change" which is more complicated than it sounds because it's about applying the soft sciences to the much more defined workplace environment. A study of human behavior within an organization. I, of course, am using the MERGER as my topic, which adds to the complexity as I AM LIVING THIS EVERY DAY. And while it is great to have the professor tell you to write the paper like you are EMPOWERED to make the change happen as you need it to...it's pretty frustrating to then go into the office and have little to no power at all.

But back to the group.

They bug me. And not ladybug bug, but more like spider bug.

The two "men" in my group seem like they are barely old enough to have graduated high school, much less college and have had little to no interest in making a real effort since the professor shared his grading philosophy of never giving less than a B. Well that's great for all of us who need a B or higher to get tuition reimbursement (professor's reasoning), but what about the group that is hauling around these two teenagers like a couple of bowling balls.

Next week we will have one hour to complete our group project, then we have to do a 45 minute role-play exercise. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

I spent the last 3 hours orchestrating the whole thing on paper with role descriptions, class participation notes, and scene by scene breakdown aligned with 75% of the change management tools we've learned about in class.

After this I think I should be allowed to sit in the back of the room and pick my nose and get my A, but I doubt the professor would understand. Then again, according to him I could sit in the back of the room and pick my nose and won't get lower than a B.

Hmmmmm.

Ladybug, Ladybug

Nearly ALL cultures believe that a Ladybug is lucky. Killing one is said to bring sadness and misfortune.

So, given the work environment and economic conditions, I'm okay about welcoming a few into my office this fall. For the last several weeks my metal mini-blinds have been "tink-tinking" with every lifting and landing of a friendly polka dotted beetle.

This is likely the only insect I can say I welcome. I don't mind if they crawl across my hand, or my keyboard, and no shiver up and down my spine that spiders, ants, bees, and other bugs can induce.

Currently there are about 6 crawling on and around my window. Once in a while, I try to move them onto the friendly green leaves of my plants, but they tend to prefer the window glass, blinds, and papers on my desk.

I would not, however, be so welcoming if the numbers grew to the thousands I read about in Washington and Maryland.

And we might have to revisit that legend about sadness and misfortune.

More New Stuff

Today I visited our soon-to-be new address. Office, that is, not home. For the first time in over 35 years, my company is relocating its headquarters from the outskirts/suburbia to a downtown location.

(Don't get excited, it's not like we are moving to Manhattan, just little old White Plains). We will also be moving from a building that is entirely our own space to a two-floor setup in a high-rise building with many other tenants.

While walking the space with another member of my group, she kept talking about what a change this will be for our culture. I thought she meant being able to walk to public transit...or being able to run an errand at the adjacent huge shopping mall...or having covered parking in the winter...all the GREAT things about this new place. But how naive of me not to think that people dwell on the negative when it comes to change.

When you make a move personally, there are a lot of psychological steps you take. You make the decision. Then, filled with excitement at your decision, you purge, you pack, you clean, and maybe you mourn a little, but then you return to your state of excitement and you go! When your company moves you multiply this by 300 people and then you add on the not insignificant element of upheaval that comes from the first step being skipped by 295 of the people involved. Yes, that's right, those 295 did NOT make the decision to move. (For the record, I am one of the 295, not the 5).

For some reason, in the business world, this means that 295 people feel it is their duty to feel betrayed, to bitch, to whine, to question, and even to revolt. I find it tremendously amusing, and equally frustrating, to watch people act out on this emotional reaction.

I often find myself asking, "If you were to get a job offer tomorrow at a new company how much of your decision to accept or not would be based on the square footage of your cubicle; the height of your cubicle walls; the identity of your cubicle neighbor; the distance between your desk and the bathroom, the break room, the exit; etc? When you look for a job do you think, I will only apply for a job on this street? or do you think within X miles of my home? If you accept that job, do you expect them to buy you a new chair, replace the art work on the adjacent wall, provide you with an extra filing cabinet or book shelf, or move the HVAC unit over your desk??"

Of course not. If you are like 99.9% of us working folks, you just want to know you like the company, you enjoy the work and do it well, you hopefully will like your boss, and you'll get some nice pay and benefits out of the deal.

Why is it then, that just because you have now worked for a company for 3 months to 30 years do you assume that you have the right to dictate individual needs into a space designed for 300 people? Why do you feel that in this economy, or really any economy, it is appropriate to bitch about the company saving money by reducing individual cubicle space by 2 square feet/person rather than doing a 10% layoff?

I understand. Really I do. It's change. No one loves change. But this is business folks. So let's make a business kind of deal.

Go home, put your feet up on your favorite cushion, have a glass of your favorite wine, watch your favorite TV channel. We won't interfere, I promise. We won't dictate that you move the couch 3 inches to the left, turn the volume down on your tv, and change from red wine to white. Essentially, I'm asking you to go home at the end of the day and LIVE YOUR LIFE AS YOU SEE FIT.

And tomorrow, in exchange, when you come into work....well...COME IN TO FREAKING WORK. Don't stress about cubicle arrangements, conference rooms, artwork, or the size and temperature of the breakroom fridge. Let the Company run its business as best it can.

And in the end, please remember, you have a job. Not only that, you have a good job for a good company that does good work.

Deal? Deal.