|
Ticker
|
Mar. 1st, 2005 @ 03:39 pm
|
|---|
Well, now it has been a while, hasn't it?
I got kind of tired of this thing a while ago..didn't like the tone it was taking on, so I abandoned it. To be honest, I didn't even think it would still be here. Go fig.
At any rate, I'm not quite sure that I'm made for the blogging realm. Not sure I have interesting enough things to say. So if/when I do write here, it will be more of a personal entry rather than inteded for the masses. At least with this restricted format as it is. If I were able to post photos and paintings/drawings, then I would probably be more interested in it.
Moving on...I was catching up on a once-in-a-while-read blog today when I saw that she had this cute little ticker marking the progression of her pregnancy. So I clicked the little link and found out that you can get one made for kids up to five years old. Voila! Here's Keaton's ticker:
Hard to believe my once little baby is going to be five soon! They grow so fast... |
You Are Mozzaella
You are a shiny, soft, round cheese. You are very imaginative and creative, but you don't like to stand out. You don't mind solitude at times and you love to do art. |
So it's been a while since I've posted. Things have been kind of unsettling for me recently and I haven't been much for the sharing mood. Not even for myself.
At any rate, I had the notion to start a wishlist today. And while browsing, I came across something I had forgotten that I absolutely loved when I was growing up. The Last Unicorn. Man, I loved that movie. Everytime I caught it on t.v. I had to watch it. I would have that song stuck in my head for weeks after watching it. Takes me back to when things were a little simpler. I didn't realize it then, of course. But life was calmer then. Not necessarily better. Just calmer. |
I realize that I complain a great deal about my job. And in all honesty, I would have changed employment long ago if I weren't biding my time before going back to school to finish my degree.
This job has been a thorn in my side for a couple of years now. And it's not so much the work as it is the people I have to work with. I find politics and duplicitous behavior to be undesirable things of life, and I strive to avoid both at all costs. However, the chances of avoiding these two become increasingly slim the more I am surrounded by people who exhibit and practice them on a day to day basis.
I classify favoritism as a byproduct of politics. And favoritism started rearing it's ugly head shortly after our department was merged inexplicably with the Graduate School. Since then, I have been the target of one of the members of the other office (I will call her Witchybitch for the purposes of anonymity). Witchybitch has made it her life's mission to discredit me amoung the entire department. Why is this, you may wonder? Because I wouldn't suck up to her like the rest of the department. Now, I wasn't ever rude to her either. I just didn't take her crap, and I didn't buy her pitiful act of being a kind and polite person. She's one of those fake nice people that make you want to haul off and smack them ten ways 'til Sunday. At any rate, she raised all sorts of problems for me. The last straw for me was when she went to the dean and told him that I was constantly on the phone making personal calls and that I ignore people when they come into the office. Okay, that description fits her secretary, not me. My supervisor has no backbone (we'll call her Invertebrata) and took no steps to correct the situation whatsoever. Invertebrata said merely, "that I should CYA." Her favorite thing in the entire world to say. I think it makes her feel empowered in some insipid way.
But, I took her advice. I started a log. I logged every personal call that the other secretary (Chatty Kathy) made, including the length of each call. I also logged any personal calls that I made. This was a tedious process and I felt as if it was all beneath me, but "when in Rome..."
By the end of the first month, Chatty Kathy had been on personal calls for a total of 263 minutes and had ignored 4 people who had come into the office needing assistance from Graduate School. I had made two personal calls, both on my "federally mandated" 15 minute breaks, in order to make doctor's appointments for my son. This first month's data collection is indicative of what commonly transpired before the accusations began and then following. And yet, somehow I am the poor employee.
Witchybitch never admitted to rifling through my desk, but about three months after I started my log, suddenly she stopped making things up about me and has, for the most part, left me alone. I personnally think she saw the log and knew that I could prove that she was full of (sh)it.
Invertebrata, has since taken up Witchy's slack. Favoring the entire population over me. Giving one set of rules to every other employee and a completely different set of rules to me. And today is no different. For no later than 8:30 AM, she came up to me and reaffirmed that I have somehow become the red-headed step child in this office and thus deserve to be treated with no respect.
Just why is it that the "professional" work place has been diminished to jr. high behavior? What ever happened to honesty and integrity? |
There is something in the air today. In fact, it's been in the air all week. Something unnamed but completely fricken psychotic. All I can say is that some people need to seriously clean out the freakish mess that's in their heads. Time for some spring cleaning, folks!
This week has been a series of tests of my general patience and my ability to refrain from pelting office supplies at coworkers (there is a small difference between the two). What's amazing is that I am not the only one experiencing such excessive bouts of undiagnosed neuroses in the workplace. Obviously there's an epidemic. Someone should call the CDC and notify them of a worldwide mental break. |
| » Been Too Long |
|---|
I'm just sitting here at my desk and trying to focus on my work. Listening to Ear Snacks (various artists...currently playing: Sex in a Box by Granian).
I'm waxing nostalgic. Some of the music on this CD reminds me of my time in North Carolina. Overall it was a horrid experience. But when I think about some of the best times in my life, a lot of it was, ironically, in North Carolina. The control freak and perfectionist in me wishes I could erase all the blemishes of those years and not have to share the good with the bad. But I wouldn't lose all the lessons I learned from those years for the world, lest I be doomed to relive them.
But it was time I spent alone in NC, not with D, that glows rosy in my mind's eye. Whether it was out driving in new territory– windows and moon roof open, music playing– or browsing through a bookstore. It was the first time in my life that I felt so free. So perfectly free. Not out of control, not living a lie, not being anything than what I needed to be right in that exact moment. No demands. No restraints. No fears.
I've heard some people say that not having demands placed on them, or having no restraints at all can seem frightening or haphazard. But for me, it was the most liberating feeling in the world. All my life there were restraints. Responsibilities assumed and expectations, even those self-imposed. I guess maybe that's one of the reasons I stayed in the very beginning. I wanted to hold on to that new found latitude. Sure, I missed seeing my family and my friends, but the freedom was intoxicating, short lived as it was.
There is much for me to regret during those years. But I will never regret moving to North Carolina for two reasons: finding out what it means to truly be alive, and Keaton.
I look forward feeling that freedom again someday. But until then, I will cherish every moment I have to spend with my son, who is my anchor. Without him, I would have drifted hopelessly. And that kind of careless abandon, my friends, is truly frightening.
Feb. 19th, 2004 @ 02:36 pm
|
| » On the verge of spring |
|---|
Today is gorgeous. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. And after much thought, though I do love autumn, I'd have to say that spring slips into first place in my book.
There's just something so refreshing and renewing (other than the vegetation) that makes spring so fantastic. The scent of new growth, the cool but not arctic breezes, the bright sun...it's priceless. And nothing makes me want to thoroughly clean my house and car more than a gorgeous day that doesn't turn you into a popsicle the moment you step out of doors.
And then when I'm done cleaning, it's time for a photo shoot, or maybe a sketch or two.
I love spring.
Feb. 19th, 2004 @ 01:41 pm
|
| » Fortune 500 |
|---|
When both feet are planted firmly, you will have trouble getting out of the ground.
|
Add a fortune to your website or
blog, click
here. |
Feb. 18th, 2004 @ 03:19 pm
|
| » I've got your cherry chill right here |
|---|
Grocey shopping last night ended in an impulse buy at the checkout. Ooooohhh...eclipse cherry chill gum. Sounds kinda good, maybe. How bad can it be? I bet it's to die for.
More like it's to die from. Unless of course you like chewing cherry cough syrup.
Feb. 18th, 2004 @ 02:54 pm
|
| » Mercredi |
|---|
Yesterday was one out of the ordinary day.
One question from my dad sent me revisiting my childhood/youth and the not-so-distant past. Some would say that there isn't much difference between the two, but for me, eons separate them. My dad and I have what I would call a strained relationship. It's not horrible by any means, but it's not as warm and cozy as I think father-daughter relationships should be (nothing extracurricular in that).
My parents separated when I was two and a half. They were separated for almost nine years before they finally divorced. And during my childhood, I had a part time dad. I'd see him a couple of days a week. But more often than not, in my memory of events, he was yelling, hitting or otherwise freaking me out when he was around. Of course, now that I'm older, I can see things from a greater perspective. But then I was simply terrified of him. However, I also loved him and wanted his validation. So I tried to be perfect. Before this turns into a whinefest, let me say that I lay no blame on either one of my parents for what I thought/think or who I was/am. Stuff just happens, and there isn't a single person in the world who has never been affected by someone else, good or bad. That's just the way life is.
At any rate, my dad and I began discussing this via email, which if I had been in my right mind, I wouldn't have done. Perhaps. And in the last email that I sent to him I basically laid it all out to him. How he scared the crap out of me when I was little, and that what he was picking up on was not that I didn't want him around, but that I was scared of him. And how I needed him around when I was younger, but a more gentle him, a more patient him. And I also added that now I see him as more mature, gentler and more patient...the kind of dad I always wanted around when I was little.
I felt pretty good about what I had written after I had re-written it three times and read it a thousand times, so I clicked "send". And when I didn't hear back after an hour, I wondered. Two hours went by and I worried. And then I had stuff to do to occupy my time. But I was still thinking about it, hoping he had taken it in the light that I had intended.
When the work day was over, I was left with no response whatsoever from him. So I did what anyone warped person would do. I went to the store and bought him a card. And on the way home I tried to be all stealth and hang it on his door by the country looking decoration thing that's nailed to it, but the card kept slipping off, and the dog started barking, and I was caught.
We talked and he laughed at me for being so worried. He said that he had tried to call me so that I wouldn't worry but that I had already left for the day. All he needed was time to think about what I wrote and time to think about what questions he had for me. He wasn't offended. He wasn't hurt. He was happy that I had told him honestly how I felt. And so am I. Because now, maybe we can move past all the stuff that has stood in our way of being close like family should be.
Feb. 18th, 2004 @ 09:47 am
|
| » Email and the Discussion of Heavy Topics |
|---|
Call me crazy, but I kind of think that email isn't necessarily the greatest format for discussing big, humungo topics that have taken years of dysfunction to create.
Call me crazy, because I did such a thing just this morning. Now I'm a smidge concerned because I haven't heard from my Dad since my last email. It's not that the whole email was iffy...just one part of it. And what I said really was meant to be nice, but there is the possibility that it could be taken wrong and thus be misconstrued as being smartass in nature.
I am so ready to go home for the day. I can't even focus on work for more than two minutes at a time before I click "check mail" on Eudora. Not like it isn't on a two minute auto checker as it is...(sigh)
I'm going to choose to be optimistic. Perhaps he's just taken a few hours to let it all sink in. Perhaps he's in a meeting and hasn't even gotten my email. Or, perhaps of all perhaps, my email has decided to stop working all together and there's no way for me to know what the staus is and so there's no use worrying about it anyway.
I have to go to a meeting now...I hate being on a committee.
Feb. 17th, 2004 @ 02:37 pm
|
| » Monday, Monday (la, la, Monday, Monday) |
|---|
Monday, Monday, can't trust that day
Monday, Monday, it just turns out that way
Oh Monday, Monday, won't go away
Monday, Monday, it's here to stay
The Mammas and the Pappas
Yes, it is a Monday. President's Day at that. And here I am at work. I have actually managed to accomplish some work related stuff today. So I'm pretty proud of that.
Friday I got a pleasant surprise in the mail. 29 child support checks dating from July of 2002. Granted, most were in the line of $7.49, there were some $24 checks, too. But considering this is the first I've received anything, and considering 29 of them all at once, it was pretty nice to see. So, I get to pay daycare - whoo-hoo! I know they will be thrilled. They just might not know what to do with themselves, I tell ya!
Feb. 16th, 2004 @ 03:49 pm
|
| » 101 Things About Me (more or less) |
|---|
1. I love acoustic guitars.
2. One day I will learn play one myself.
3. I am addicted to music of many kinds, and a truly rare moment it is when I’m not singing when I can.
4. Yes, this includes in my car when stopped at red lights in rush hour traffic.
5. My son sings with me,
6. He’s fantastic,
7. And I love him with all my heart.
8. Even when he’s mean. Because, let’s face it, I can be mean at times, too!
9. No, really, I can.
10. I believe honesty is crucial for getting anywhere in life.
11. If you ask me to be honest, I will be blatantly so. Not to hurt feelings, just to be sure what I mean really gets across.
12. Used to be that I was misunderstood a lot because I was so quiet and didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Diplomacy was my policy at all times. (It was even one of my majors in college.)
13. But I got tired of being misunderstood, so I changed my policy.
14. I don’t like conflict, and I will avoid it at all costs– save at the cost of honesty, or if it’s to defend my son or myself.
15. Everyone who meets me thinks I’m sweet.
16. I try to live up to that.
17. I don’t wear much jewelry, but when I do, it’s silver. I don’t like gold.
18. When I was thirteen, I went to Block Island and almost drowned in the ocean when the current pulled me under, and waves threw me against huge boulders at the shore nearly a mile down from where I started.
19. My luggage was stolen in New York City on the way back from Block Island the following summer.
20. I still love Block Island, and I still love the ocean. I haven’t been back to NYC.
21. I never realized just how important my family was to me until I moved to North Carolina in an act of rebellion.
22. I never want to be far from my family again. Unless we’re talking vacation. ‘Cause that doesn’t count.
23. I am an artist.
24. I love Swedish fish and dark chocolate.
25. And anything peanut butter.
26. This is the best peanut butter. Ever.
27. I like to “play things by ear”.
28. I’m extremely sarcastic, but I’m trying to change that.
29. Well, a little.
30. Yeah…no, I’m not.
31. LOL. I should, though.
32. I’m a perfectionist.
33. But you wouldn’t know it to see my house.
34. I hate washing dishes. I miss having a dishwasher.
35. I don’t like to wake up early unless I don’t have anywhere to go. Then I love it.
36. I don’t like lemon.
37. I know that there are millions of people in the world who think that lemon has to go in iced tea, but I promise you, I don’t want lemon in my iced tea.
38. I’ve seriously had to stop myself from picking out the lemon and chucking it at servers’ heads.
39. Seems a bit drastic, doesn’t it?
40. I know. I’m not proud. I’m working on it.
41. Lemonade is another story, though. I love lemonade.
42. As long as it’s not too sweet.
43. I’m quiet until I get to know most people.
44. It’s difficult meeting very many people that way.
45. I can talk endlessly, though, to friendly people who are genuine and down to earth.
46. Used to be that I didn’t like kids because I never knew what they were trying to say to me.
47. Then I had one of my own, and I had to learn his language.
48. Now I think kids are really neat.
49. Yeah, I use the word “neat”. I get it from my dad.
50. I dreamed that I would backpack through Europe when I graduated from high school.
51. That didn’t happen. But I did go to France with a good friend.
52. It was fantastic.
53. I want to travel more.
54. I especially want to go to Scotland to see where some of my ancestors lived.
55. Genealogy is something I wish I had time to devote to.
56. I adore old buildings and houses. I could spend days in places like that…just dreaming about what had once taken place there. If these wall could talk…
57. Well, maybe not days. But you get the idea.
57. More than the images of the chataux in France, the feel of their walls will forever be etched in my mind. To this day I can feel them.
58. I don’t like red roses.
59. I used to speak French fluently.
60. I tried to teach myself Gaelic. Pretty much all I can say is, "Ciamar a tha sibh?" And things along that vein. I still want very much to learn it.
61. My first car was a ’86 Blue Jetta with a standard transmission and a moon roof.
62. I miss that car.
63. I desperately want an SUV. But I’m such a gasoline conservationist (financial reasons) that I wonder if I’ll ever buy one.
64. I like period movies.
65. I think that having good manners and being polite is important; unless you ask for honesty (see #11), then all bets are off and you’re on your own.
66. I have expensive tastes.
67. I also have no money, so I don’t have many nice things (though I do have all that I need).
68. I consider this to be a temporary problem.
69. Given the choice between everything that I could possibly want or time spent with those I love, I would choose to be with loved ones. Even if reunions have to be held in cardboard boxes.
70. I think my priorities are pretty straight.
71. But there’s always room for improvement (see #32).
72. I am planning on going back to school to finish my degree either this summer or in the fall…depends on how long it takes to get financial aid worked out.
73. I will be going for Early Childhood Education.
74. I’m a sucker for those meaningless quizzes, like “What type of shoe are you?”
75. I’m a flip-flop.
76. I think that’s hilarious!
77. I’ve taken almost every “test” on eMode.com
78. My favorite color is green.
79. I wish my eyes were just green (they’re hazel).
80. Some people think I named my son after batman.
81. It’s just not so.
82. I don’t like my voice.
83. I think I sound like a two year old.
84. I’ve gotten many compliments on it, which disturbs me a bit.
85. I have an older sister.
86. We fought like ancient enemies when we were growing up.
87. She is one of my bestest friends now.
88. I have a crush on Viggo Mortensen.
89. And Mac Powell.
90. Yes, I know he’s married.
91. Mostly, I love his voice.
92. I could listen to it forever.
93. I’m right handed.
94. But left handed when playing sports.
95. I can’t carry bags over my right shoulder. They always fall off.
96. Nor can I hold my son for very long in my right arm.
97. I’m weird like that.
98. I’m grasping at straws here to get to 101…
99. I hate the winter. The way I see it is if it has to be cold, then it better be snowing. Snow is the only redeeming quality of winter.
100. I love having fires in my fireplace.
101. That’s why I love autumn.
Feb. 12th, 2004 @ 01:21 pm
|
| » Linkage |
|---|
Still learning...don't mind me! ;)
Not So Bloggy
Feb. 11th, 2004 @ 12:43 pm
|
| » Trials and Tribulations |
|---|
I'm the first to admit that I have been pretty lucky (if lucky is really the word) so far in that Keaton is an even tempered little guy, and has been since the day he was born. I knew this wouldn't always be the case. I have been preparing myself for the adolescent years that are sure to be peppered with such loving remarks as "I HATE YOU!" screamed at the top of my child's lungs. However, at the ripe old age of 46 months, I wasn't even thinking it would be a possibility that those words would be uttered.
And just what was my grievous crime? For that I have no answer. We had said good-bye to JB after dinner and no sooner than I turned the corner after dropping her off, he opens dialog. "I hate her. I hate you. I don't like you. I hate this car. I don't like our house. I hate you. I hate you."
It's thoroughly possible that I am taking it all too personally. After all, that is my specialty. And he has been through so much recently with the surgery and the aftermath...maybe those words are simply the mad ravings of a stressed little boy. But it certainly hurts. And the bonus clarity that it brings when I consider how my mom felt when I said those exact words to her in my youth, grieves me. I should take her out to lunch. Or buy her a house, more like. Would that I could.
Growing pains, indeed.
Feb. 11th, 2004 @ 08:28 am
|
| » (No Subject) |
|---|
(sigh)
Okay, time to clear out the madness. I tried setting up a blog at BlogSpot.com and about drove myself mad with it. I figured out a little bit, but I had never looked at html before today and it was a bit overwhelming. I managed to change colors and fonts, add links and comments (spending way more time on it than I should have, considering I'm at work). Then I thought, "hey, might be nice to upload some pictures." After looking into it, it can't be done using their free version. So, I scrapped it.
Miami gives staff and students their own space, so maybe I'll see what that's all about. But I'm sure it will involve a whole lot more than a blog hosting site. I'm kind of tired of it all right now.
Twenty minutes left in the work day and then I get to drive to Tri-County to help my friend pick out her wedding dress. I'm so not up for that tonight. And I doubt very much Keaton will be, either. But she's desparate. And she's my best friend, so I gotta help her, if I can. Not to say that I don't want to help...just not really tonight. No one ever said crises were convenient, eh?
I wish I knew more right now. Wish I knew how to set up a website and maintain it. Wish I knew someone who had a clue about it themselves. That would be fantastic.
Feb. 10th, 2004 @ 04:27 pm
|
| » Not quite so bloggy |
|---|
Okay, so, HulaHolly showed me how to start my own Live Journal page (thanks Holly!) and I am trying my hand at it...seeing how much I can tweak it and trying to figure out what all the features are. Basically, I'm just writing this so that I can get the style of the journal the way I like it. But it's not so much a blog as I would have thought. But perhaps there is hope for it yet, once I learn what live journal has to offer.
Feb. 10th, 2004 @ 11:06 am
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
heatherchelle's journal