A couple of years ago at the sprite age of 76, my Dad decided to take the Mensa Test.
And passed fabulously.
All my life he's lorded over me how much smarter he is than I am, and now he has a piece of paper to prove it.
He just called to bug me once again about taking it. And recently attending all his parties (at the various clubs he belongs including Mensa) has probably brought this about because he must be running out of stuff to brag about. So the bugging is getting more intense.
If I take it and pass - he'll be like "so what"
If I don't....
Rock. Hard place.
Should I or should I not? That is the question. (help!)
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Half the battle is NOT getting there.
They should post a sign over any hospital door:
Your heart and dignity will be removed as soon as possible, please just get over it.
Well, after standing around with the corn fed boys of the rural fire brigade for 20 minutes or so (they were expecting to haul the skid loader out of the ditch, but my husband foiled that...) the ambulance finally showed up.
Now we live on the county line, so they wanted to take my husband to the rural hospital in the county we live in instead of the city hospital in the more metropolitan area where they have state-of-the-art care available. Sensing that this was no run of the mill broken leg, I did what any self-respecting woman would do in a moment of extreme stress.
I threw a hissy fit. Tears and all.
Eventually they agreed to take him to the city hospital. They didn't even look at my husband's leg, they just took his vitals and put him in. I even got to the hospital BEFORE the ambulance.
Now, I forgot to mention that exactly one week before this event, my husband had been to the same emergency room - with a KIDNEY STONE. The on call doctor for this event looked at me and said that I looked familiar, and keep in mind a state of extreme stress will make you say some pretty odd things...."Well, you did such a good job with the kidney stone, we just wanted see what you could do with this..." Don't ask why I said that - I call it "word vomit" - sometimes statements just come out and I can't stop myself (I'm sure there's a competent therapist with my name all OVER a folder somewhere...) The look on his face was priceless indeed.
When they finally got my husband into the trauma area, we pieced together what had happened... Apparantly, when the skid loader pitched forward into the ditch, to keep from sliding out and under the machine and being killed (as he was NOT buckled in) my husband stuck his right leg out to prevent himself slipping out. But in his frantic state to brace himself with his left leg, it hit the controls to bring the bucket down, and it scissored his right leg between the cross member of the arms that control the bucket.
His leg was basically amputated in place. CRUSHED. Smushed. But it didn't come off. And even more weirdly, no bones protruded. But it began to swell, and swell...
After they took him into the MRI tunnel, the doctors looked very grave indeed. Because apparently, a crush is not like a break, or even an amputation... you have this little problem associated with the death of tissue called "compartment syndrome" which sets up another little problem called "gangrene" which can quickly translate into "DEATH."
Educational moment in Cliff's notes format - there is an envelope that encases every muscle that feeds blood and oxygen to the tissue - compartment syndrome is when that envelope is damaged, and the tissue begins to die (gangrene). This puts poison into your entire body.
The doctor looked at me and said:
"We have to take the leg off or he'll die."
All I could say was "NO." And I nearly passed out dropping into a chair.
Your heart and dignity will be removed as soon as possible, please just get over it.
Well, after standing around with the corn fed boys of the rural fire brigade for 20 minutes or so (they were expecting to haul the skid loader out of the ditch, but my husband foiled that...) the ambulance finally showed up.
Now we live on the county line, so they wanted to take my husband to the rural hospital in the county we live in instead of the city hospital in the more metropolitan area where they have state-of-the-art care available. Sensing that this was no run of the mill broken leg, I did what any self-respecting woman would do in a moment of extreme stress.
I threw a hissy fit. Tears and all.
Eventually they agreed to take him to the city hospital. They didn't even look at my husband's leg, they just took his vitals and put him in. I even got to the hospital BEFORE the ambulance.
Now, I forgot to mention that exactly one week before this event, my husband had been to the same emergency room - with a KIDNEY STONE. The on call doctor for this event looked at me and said that I looked familiar, and keep in mind a state of extreme stress will make you say some pretty odd things...."Well, you did such a good job with the kidney stone, we just wanted see what you could do with this..." Don't ask why I said that - I call it "word vomit" - sometimes statements just come out and I can't stop myself (I'm sure there's a competent therapist with my name all OVER a folder somewhere...) The look on his face was priceless indeed.
When they finally got my husband into the trauma area, we pieced together what had happened... Apparantly, when the skid loader pitched forward into the ditch, to keep from sliding out and under the machine and being killed (as he was NOT buckled in) my husband stuck his right leg out to prevent himself slipping out. But in his frantic state to brace himself with his left leg, it hit the controls to bring the bucket down, and it scissored his right leg between the cross member of the arms that control the bucket.
His leg was basically amputated in place. CRUSHED. Smushed. But it didn't come off. And even more weirdly, no bones protruded. But it began to swell, and swell...
After they took him into the MRI tunnel, the doctors looked very grave indeed. Because apparently, a crush is not like a break, or even an amputation... you have this little problem associated with the death of tissue called "compartment syndrome" which sets up another little problem called "gangrene" which can quickly translate into "DEATH."
Educational moment in Cliff's notes format - there is an envelope that encases every muscle that feeds blood and oxygen to the tissue - compartment syndrome is when that envelope is damaged, and the tissue begins to die (gangrene). This puts poison into your entire body.
The doctor looked at me and said:
"We have to take the leg off or he'll die."
All I could say was "NO." And I nearly passed out dropping into a chair.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
The wait is over
Well, Gizmo didn't win the big photo contest :o( But hey! nothing ventured, nothing gained... And talk about the longest wait in photo contest history!!! Geesh!
All the pictures are beautiful, I know couldn't pick just one (IF I was objective ;o)
I thought she would at least make tops, but she didn't (she usually does) Losing IS a bit merciful in a way - I can quit entering her for awhile (okay I could quit before I just didn't want to because, well, she was winning...)
Honestly, it gets VERY addictive when your kid wins because well... it's a fundamental concept - winning is fun, losing sucks. Period. That's why gambling can be such a problem...and I admit playing these photo contests are very much like gambling. And even the ads for these things are a bit Vegas-esque. But what else are you going to do with a picture that costs more than your monthly electric bill? And you can't even put it on your desk at work LOL
The loot report this year?
- 1 Holiday Collectible Barbie
- Free entries into other contests
- 1 Build a Bear with Outfit
- Monogrammed Tote Bag
- $325
- California Barbie Doll
- A Free photo shoot with a top pageant photographer
- and a write up in the premiere National Pageant Magazine
I'm not greedy - just thankful we get to play!
..Oh and yesterday I found the most FANTASTIC hot pink hat for her next shoot - no time to waste preparing for the next pictures!! There's necklaces to buy! and hair accessories! and gloves! and feathers! and earrings...and fuzzy scarves..... to the next shoot here we gooooo......
All the pictures are beautiful, I know couldn't pick just one (IF I was objective ;o)
I thought she would at least make tops, but she didn't (she usually does) Losing IS a bit merciful in a way - I can quit entering her for awhile (okay I could quit before I just didn't want to because, well, she was winning...)
Honestly, it gets VERY addictive when your kid wins because well... it's a fundamental concept - winning is fun, losing sucks. Period. That's why gambling can be such a problem...and I admit playing these photo contests are very much like gambling. And even the ads for these things are a bit Vegas-esque. But what else are you going to do with a picture that costs more than your monthly electric bill? And you can't even put it on your desk at work LOL
The loot report this year?
- 1 Holiday Collectible Barbie
- Free entries into other contests
- 1 Build a Bear with Outfit
- Monogrammed Tote Bag
- $325
- California Barbie Doll
- A Free photo shoot with a top pageant photographer
- and a write up in the premiere National Pageant Magazine
I'm not greedy - just thankful we get to play!
..Oh and yesterday I found the most FANTASTIC hot pink hat for her next shoot - no time to waste preparing for the next pictures!! There's necklaces to buy! and hair accessories! and gloves! and feathers! and earrings...and fuzzy scarves..... to the next shoot here we gooooo......
Friday, December 29, 2006
The Emergency Circus
Okay, sweater and slippers are on... back to our story.
Well, our neighbor's daughter, startled as she was, drove me up to the door of her house where she ran and grabbed her mother - who upon seeing me in my muddy,disheveled and frantic state became equally anxious about the whole situation. All I could do was blurt out: "Husband!" "In ditch... I think his leg is off....please I think they'll need to pull him out - heavy equipment involved" "Please just CALL 911...."
And I ran back. By now I could hear my husband hollering for me "GET DOWN HERE - WHERE AAARRREEEE YOU???? ARRRRGGGHHH......"
It actually sounded a little better (if you can believe that!)
Apparently, in the meantime, our neighbor who called 911 for us, called upon two of the most "useful" people that live on our street (out of what was like, all 8 of the houses on our street.) I like to call them Hansel & Gretel. Now, they are really sweet people, he's VERY British, and she's VERY German. Talk about your odd couples. He has a Poirot mustache and wears a lot of tweed, and she is tall and thin and very drawn looking and chain smokes constantly. They both have made a hobby of telling everyone that our street would not be NEARLY as clean and beautiful if it weren't for them laboring to pick up all the "litter" on their daily walks. And never mind their hatred of any animal that isn't a cat or anyone that can't play bridge... Anyway, I digress. This was actually my first meeting of these two - he brought a crowbar with him and she brought her cigarettes. How useful in an emergency. (Although I'm now convinced they're both former Russian spies still putting on an act along with the rest of the characters in the witness protection program on our street.)
So by the time I got back (again the whole slow motion time thing going on) they had driven down (Gosh, thanks for stopping and giving me a ride...) and my husband was...
NOT in the skid loader.
He apparently had enough wits, er, adrenaline (and a LOT of it) to get out of the skid loader and hop almost 50 yards up into our truck at the top of the driveway. The side of the truck was the picture of desperation as the muddy hand prints left a track of obvious clawing to get up into the vehicle.
But I STILL wasn't sure what happened. Except his leg was hanging at a very odd angle. A very, very, very, odd angle. With traces of blood beginning to seep.
But at least the screaming had died down to a gutteral moan at this point. Hansel had reached my husband before me, which apparently just managed to piss my husband off terribly... and Gretel was trying to console me (but she never dropped her bloody cigarette) while we were waiting for an emergency team to arrive.
At this point, as odd as it might seem, we got into an argument.
"Take me to the fucking hospital" he demanded. Now, being the hopeless romantic that I am I responded with basically "No, you idiot, what if you go into shock?? I can't help you... I am NOT taking you to the fucking hospital, I've called an AMBULANCE".... He was not in the mood to listen to reason.... "FUCK THE AMBULANCE, TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL!!!!!"
Weeeyooooo Weeeeeyooooo Weeeeeeeeeyoooooooooo
Thank God for Laurens County's finest. Our Volunteer Fire Brigade. But no Ambulance.
It sounds like everything was okay...but it was NOT.
The worst was yet to come.
Well, our neighbor's daughter, startled as she was, drove me up to the door of her house where she ran and grabbed her mother - who upon seeing me in my muddy,disheveled and frantic state became equally anxious about the whole situation. All I could do was blurt out: "Husband!" "In ditch... I think his leg is off....please I think they'll need to pull him out - heavy equipment involved" "Please just CALL 911...."
And I ran back. By now I could hear my husband hollering for me "GET DOWN HERE - WHERE AAARRREEEE YOU???? ARRRRGGGHHH......"
It actually sounded a little better (if you can believe that!)
Apparently, in the meantime, our neighbor who called 911 for us, called upon two of the most "useful" people that live on our street (out of what was like, all 8 of the houses on our street.) I like to call them Hansel & Gretel. Now, they are really sweet people, he's VERY British, and she's VERY German. Talk about your odd couples. He has a Poirot mustache and wears a lot of tweed, and she is tall and thin and very drawn looking and chain smokes constantly. They both have made a hobby of telling everyone that our street would not be NEARLY as clean and beautiful if it weren't for them laboring to pick up all the "litter" on their daily walks. And never mind their hatred of any animal that isn't a cat or anyone that can't play bridge... Anyway, I digress. This was actually my first meeting of these two - he brought a crowbar with him and she brought her cigarettes. How useful in an emergency. (Although I'm now convinced they're both former Russian spies still putting on an act along with the rest of the characters in the witness protection program on our street.)
So by the time I got back (again the whole slow motion time thing going on) they had driven down (Gosh, thanks for stopping and giving me a ride...) and my husband was...
NOT in the skid loader.
He apparently had enough wits, er, adrenaline (and a LOT of it) to get out of the skid loader and hop almost 50 yards up into our truck at the top of the driveway. The side of the truck was the picture of desperation as the muddy hand prints left a track of obvious clawing to get up into the vehicle.
But I STILL wasn't sure what happened. Except his leg was hanging at a very odd angle. A very, very, very, odd angle. With traces of blood beginning to seep.
But at least the screaming had died down to a gutteral moan at this point. Hansel had reached my husband before me, which apparently just managed to piss my husband off terribly... and Gretel was trying to console me (but she never dropped her bloody cigarette) while we were waiting for an emergency team to arrive.
At this point, as odd as it might seem, we got into an argument.
"Take me to the fucking hospital" he demanded. Now, being the hopeless romantic that I am I responded with basically "No, you idiot, what if you go into shock?? I can't help you... I am NOT taking you to the fucking hospital, I've called an AMBULANCE".... He was not in the mood to listen to reason.... "FUCK THE AMBULANCE, TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL!!!!!"
Weeeyooooo Weeeeeyooooo Weeeeeeeeeyoooooooooo
Thank God for Laurens County's finest. Our Volunteer Fire Brigade. But no Ambulance.
It sounds like everything was okay...but it was NOT.
The worst was yet to come.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Christmas
Well, since I can't sleep. (I either end up over-posting or under but never in-between)
I'm feeling guilty, because all the other bloggers have given their commentary on Christmas and I didn't really say a word.
That's because there wasn't much to say.
Christmas used to be a lot more fun when I didn't have to do so much work. But this year, I threw in the proverbial towel. Only a tree in the living room and some garland on the balconey upstairs. Didn't overspend on the kids. Got everything I wanted and here's what I got:
Gift card to Ulta
Gift card to Cache
Some decorative plates for our kitchen wall
an ipod Nano (in PINK!)
Issey Miyake perfume
and some really, REALLY, cool snow boots (lace up black suede with pom poms at that!!)
We ate leftovers from the family gatherings collected on Saturday and Sunday, and never even changed out of our pajamas.
It was a great day.
I'm feeling guilty, because all the other bloggers have given their commentary on Christmas and I didn't really say a word.
That's because there wasn't much to say.
Christmas used to be a lot more fun when I didn't have to do so much work. But this year, I threw in the proverbial towel. Only a tree in the living room and some garland on the balconey upstairs. Didn't overspend on the kids. Got everything I wanted and here's what I got:
Gift card to Ulta
Gift card to Cache
Some decorative plates for our kitchen wall
an ipod Nano (in PINK!)
Issey Miyake perfume
and some really, REALLY, cool snow boots (lace up black suede with pom poms at that!!)
We ate leftovers from the family gatherings collected on Saturday and Sunday, and never even changed out of our pajamas.
It was a great day.
Still no word :o(
Well, there's still no word on the stupid photo contest :o( They were supposed to announce winners Monday, but I have a feeling it won't be until Friday.... Even the name of the contest is cheesy: "Unforgettable Faces" LOL
But hey! who doesn't want to have an "unforgettable" face?? Of course, with all the retouching, who could forget what ANY of these pics look like....
I'm swearing off these things for awhile after this one!!!
They have these stupid prediction boards (www.voy.com/189998/) that I watch just to see who everyone is "picking" to win. And it's frustrating, that even though my daughter wins a good bit, she rarely gets predicted. It's like she's invisible sometimes. I know I shouldn't worry about it, but some of these other moms must hire PR teams from New York to set up the kind of publicity their kids get. It's kind of like a popularity contest from high school - there are kids who are popular for some particular reason, and others that well, aren't. I do like to read the boards though, these bitches are something else sometimes - and if you can catch it before the moderator does.... They should call it the MOMs from Hell board LOL
I rarely post (except to sneak in a prediction for MY kid!!!)
I don't mind putting my daughter in these types of photo contests, because if you could pick my kid off the street from her glitz pics, I'd kiss yer butt at high noon and give ya three hours to collect a crowd... (and no, these pics are not the ones that go on Grandma's mantle. )
But it's fun in a weird kind of way, a bit like extending Christmas. And Gizmo knows the drill:
Win photo contest = Shopping trip
p.s. I must be getting old, we took a day trip skiing yesterday, and I can barely MOVE....
(will continue other story tomorrow)
But hey! who doesn't want to have an "unforgettable" face?? Of course, with all the retouching, who could forget what ANY of these pics look like....
I'm swearing off these things for awhile after this one!!!
They have these stupid prediction boards (www.voy.com/189998/) that I watch just to see who everyone is "picking" to win. And it's frustrating, that even though my daughter wins a good bit, she rarely gets predicted. It's like she's invisible sometimes. I know I shouldn't worry about it, but some of these other moms must hire PR teams from New York to set up the kind of publicity their kids get. It's kind of like a popularity contest from high school - there are kids who are popular for some particular reason, and others that well, aren't. I do like to read the boards though, these bitches are something else sometimes - and if you can catch it before the moderator does.... They should call it the MOMs from Hell board LOL
I rarely post (except to sneak in a prediction for MY kid!!!)
I don't mind putting my daughter in these types of photo contests, because if you could pick my kid off the street from her glitz pics, I'd kiss yer butt at high noon and give ya three hours to collect a crowd... (and no, these pics are not the ones that go on Grandma's mantle. )
But it's fun in a weird kind of way, a bit like extending Christmas. And Gizmo knows the drill:
Win photo contest = Shopping trip
p.s. I must be getting old, we took a day trip skiing yesterday, and I can barely MOVE....
(will continue other story tomorrow)
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
911
When I came around the corner, the skid loader was pitched forward into the ditch.
You haven't lived until you've heard the screams of a human being in mortal agony.
Especially a loved one.
My husband was clinging, convulsing, to the cage of the skid loader screaming - making sounds I have never heard from a human and never wish to hear again... and no actor can make the sound that comes out when the pain, and terror, are real. I don't care how much they try. (I can pretty much watch any horror, war, or science fiction movie quiet peacefully now.)
"My LEG!! OH MY GOD!!! IT'S OFF!!! I DON'T KNOW. PLEASE GOD HELP!!!!"
I didn't know what else to do, I knew there was nothing I could physically do at the scene, so I just ran for help. The next closest house was a mile down the road, and cell phones don't work where we live. No time to think, or feel, just RUN.
I felt like the preview of the six million dollar man running in slow motion. Not knowing what was really happening, not being able to feel, the surreal nature of the moment overcoming me like a bad dream. One leg pumping in front of the other, but going nowhere - as if time began to stand still.
Fortunately, the teenage daughter of our neighbor was out in her golf cart.... All I could do was jump in to the passenger seat and babble incoherently about needing to dial 911. I am quite sure I frightened her to death, as she still acts funny around me to this day. But in the meantime....
You could still hear my husband screaming from where we were.
I still didn't know what, exactly, was happening. But I was about to find out.
You haven't lived until you've heard the screams of a human being in mortal agony.
Especially a loved one.
My husband was clinging, convulsing, to the cage of the skid loader screaming - making sounds I have never heard from a human and never wish to hear again... and no actor can make the sound that comes out when the pain, and terror, are real. I don't care how much they try. (I can pretty much watch any horror, war, or science fiction movie quiet peacefully now.)
"My LEG!! OH MY GOD!!! IT'S OFF!!! I DON'T KNOW. PLEASE GOD HELP!!!!"
I didn't know what else to do, I knew there was nothing I could physically do at the scene, so I just ran for help. The next closest house was a mile down the road, and cell phones don't work where we live. No time to think, or feel, just RUN.
I felt like the preview of the six million dollar man running in slow motion. Not knowing what was really happening, not being able to feel, the surreal nature of the moment overcoming me like a bad dream. One leg pumping in front of the other, but going nowhere - as if time began to stand still.
Fortunately, the teenage daughter of our neighbor was out in her golf cart.... All I could do was jump in to the passenger seat and babble incoherently about needing to dial 911. I am quite sure I frightened her to death, as she still acts funny around me to this day. But in the meantime....
You could still hear my husband screaming from where we were.
I still didn't know what, exactly, was happening. But I was about to find out.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
February 13
I wanted to go skiing.
But we were building the house ourselves, and we had a lot of work to do. So, under quite a bit of protest, I agreed to go work on the house instead. There was a lot of industrial trash to be removed and we didn't have anyone else to do it, so my husband had talked his father into loaning the skid loader for the day so we could move the trash into the rented giant trash bin -we really wanted to get it done, because those trash bins tend to be expensive to rent and we were trying to cut as many costs as possible. So for a better part of the day we moved trash out of the ditch by our house (sheet rock remnants, pipe remnants, old cardboard boxes etc.) - my husband would hop in and out of the loader so to expedite the process, he buckled the belt BEHIND him instead of buckling and unbuckling each time. Took too much effort and time he said. Get 'r Done ya' know.
So the day passed and we were tired. Dog tired and covered in mud and dirt. My husband asked me to go around back and lock up while he went and quickly put a load of fill dirt in the ditch. Okay, let's go.
As I locked up around back, I heard a terrible screeching noise, kind of like when an engine has metal rubbing together. Not quite machine, not quite human. So I ran around the front of the house - not worried so much, but curious. But nothing could have prepared me for the indelible impression I was about to encounter.
I will never forget what I saw. Ever.
But we were building the house ourselves, and we had a lot of work to do. So, under quite a bit of protest, I agreed to go work on the house instead. There was a lot of industrial trash to be removed and we didn't have anyone else to do it, so my husband had talked his father into loaning the skid loader for the day so we could move the trash into the rented giant trash bin -we really wanted to get it done, because those trash bins tend to be expensive to rent and we were trying to cut as many costs as possible. So for a better part of the day we moved trash out of the ditch by our house (sheet rock remnants, pipe remnants, old cardboard boxes etc.) - my husband would hop in and out of the loader so to expedite the process, he buckled the belt BEHIND him instead of buckling and unbuckling each time. Took too much effort and time he said. Get 'r Done ya' know.
So the day passed and we were tired. Dog tired and covered in mud and dirt. My husband asked me to go around back and lock up while he went and quickly put a load of fill dirt in the ditch. Okay, let's go.
As I locked up around back, I heard a terrible screeching noise, kind of like when an engine has metal rubbing together. Not quite machine, not quite human. So I ran around the front of the house - not worried so much, but curious. But nothing could have prepared me for the indelible impression I was about to encounter.
I will never forget what I saw. Ever.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
C'mon get Happy :o)
Point. Counter Point.
Upon reading another blog on my way through my regular stops through cyberspace...a popular blogger, www.suburbanturmoil.blogger.com, wrote a response to a reader who suggested that she needed to write about more things that made her happy.
That apparently did not set well with said blogger.
I will admit that her biting wit and snarky attitude about pageants instigated my start into blogland. She has a bit of "I'm so over everything" in her blogs (although I don't think she's really that way at all, her blog is more of a vent than anything.) And poor thing, she's got a sick toddler AND she's pregnant. So you'd think I'd be a bit on her side or really nasty about the fact that she basically let the commentator that suggested she should "get happy" have the third degree. I am neither.
What bothers me is the fact that so many other people are apparently "so over" things and have more appreciation for the snarky than the sparkly (that phrase sucked but it's the best I can do for now.) In other words the consensus of said blogger's reading public is the same as what I tell my husband when I have a raging case of PMS:
"Don't ruin a good bad mood"
On the other hand, negativity breeds more negativity. The news tells us life sucks, there's never really anything good going on in the world. The heartbreaking is more interesting than the heartwarming. And that's sad. I think anyone who doesn't try to see the good in life needs, well, a little re-setting of perspective. Nothing pernicious, but life changing enough to see what's really small stuff and what's really important.
February 13, 1999 was my date. The most horrible day I've ever had.
....to be continued.
Upon reading another blog on my way through my regular stops through cyberspace...a popular blogger, www.suburbanturmoil.blogger.com, wrote a response to a reader who suggested that she needed to write about more things that made her happy.
That apparently did not set well with said blogger.
I will admit that her biting wit and snarky attitude about pageants instigated my start into blogland. She has a bit of "I'm so over everything" in her blogs (although I don't think she's really that way at all, her blog is more of a vent than anything.) And poor thing, she's got a sick toddler AND she's pregnant. So you'd think I'd be a bit on her side or really nasty about the fact that she basically let the commentator that suggested she should "get happy" have the third degree. I am neither.
What bothers me is the fact that so many other people are apparently "so over" things and have more appreciation for the snarky than the sparkly (that phrase sucked but it's the best I can do for now.) In other words the consensus of said blogger's reading public is the same as what I tell my husband when I have a raging case of PMS:
"Don't ruin a good bad mood"
On the other hand, negativity breeds more negativity. The news tells us life sucks, there's never really anything good going on in the world. The heartbreaking is more interesting than the heartwarming. And that's sad. I think anyone who doesn't try to see the good in life needs, well, a little re-setting of perspective. Nothing pernicious, but life changing enough to see what's really small stuff and what's really important.
February 13, 1999 was my date. The most horrible day I've ever had.
....to be continued.
Monday, December 18, 2006
It's the most wonderful time of the year!!!
I'm baa-aack!!!!
After two weeks of company ordered psychological training and four rotating cases of something akin to the bird flu running through my house - it's time to write again!!!
Before I go to said main subject, ya'll will have to appreciate the hopeless romantic my husband is... Wednesday night, after vomiting violently and wishing I was dead briefly from about 8-midnight, I finally got to sleep...well about 2am my son woke up destroying the upstairs bathroom like a bad scene from the exorcist - so my husband shook me awake and said "well, you're already sick with it so can you go deal with him?? I don't want to get it!"
Love ya, mean it LOL
An-y-who.
It's that time of year in the pageant world - time for one of the most anticipated events of the year!!
Is it the christmas parties the coaches' throw? no
Is it pageant slumber parties? no
Is it Christmas cards from your friends? duh
Is it the biggest Christmas pageant of the year? that is soooo over
Is it the joy of finally getting all the hairspray, makeup, and tanning solution out of everything your 3 year old owns?? No, that's an impossible task anyway...
Ladies and Gentlemen!!!! It's time for the "unforgettable faces" year end online photo contest with the "Duos Doubles" contest!!
Aaahh friends - if you haven't lived through the mad scramble to find 2 and only 2 partners - and everyone wants to pair with the best photos out there - it can get well, messy. Now, there are those moms who are resourceful enough to hire hackers to find the email addys of the kids with the best pictures. And then there are those who email the directors to ask if they know if so-and-so might like to pair. Bless the brave souls who post to the voyager boards to ask for pairings and pick up lord knows what kind of spamming.
And finally, my personal favorites. The moms who don't email anyone or try to get good partners, that commence to then sit around and bitch online about how the "regulars" will always pair up and nobody wanted to pair with them and oh the same old people win... and somebody made a deal not to get paid so they could win, and so-and-so must be related...blah,blah,blah,blah, blah, infinity
Let the "wild rumpus" begin (name that book!) oh they gnash their gnarly teeth, and they roll their horrible eyes, and they wail their terrible wails....
As they say in the South, "Bless their Hearts"
Of course a $500 purse and boxes full of gifts for the winners can make even the nicest moms go greedy ;o)
In 7 days half the pageant world will be glued to a computer screen in every corner of the US (and possibly few Canadians too...) waiting for the results as to who the "best of the best" are in photo contest competition for the year...
Now for folks who don't quite have what this is about let me explain.
In pageantry, there is another world of competition called the "online photo contest." This is where you can take the photos you paid what no normal human being would pay for a photo that doesn't even really look like your kid and win STUFF - money, prizes, gifts, PR.... You can't discount the PR needed in pageantry. It's like Hollywood - any publicity is good publicity. And this is a critical aspect. So if your kid can get great pics from the best photographers, and build their name....well...it doesn't hurt. I can't put my finger on it, but somehow, when kids start either winning photo contests, or bashed on a bash board, they mysteriously start winning everything.... hmmmm.
Along with this competition (as with National Pageants) are the prediction boards - every mom wants to see their kid "predicted" to win - although I think most predictions are from the moms, grandmas, and those forced at gunpoint to name certain kids as the front runners. I don't think race horses get this much speculation or promotion... I think it would be very enterprising of me to be the first pageant "bookie" (but then I remember I have a soul AND a concience, darn it!!) And it can turn vicious if you aren't careful. One wrong move and you can become the victim of a vicious witchhunt!!! And these girls name names LOL I'd rather take a bitch slap up side the head ANY day... But it's all part of the game.
Oh and what's that? Well of COURSE we play, duh-huh! After all, I AM "Pageant Mom."
After two weeks of company ordered psychological training and four rotating cases of something akin to the bird flu running through my house - it's time to write again!!!
Before I go to said main subject, ya'll will have to appreciate the hopeless romantic my husband is... Wednesday night, after vomiting violently and wishing I was dead briefly from about 8-midnight, I finally got to sleep...well about 2am my son woke up destroying the upstairs bathroom like a bad scene from the exorcist - so my husband shook me awake and said "well, you're already sick with it so can you go deal with him?? I don't want to get it!"
Love ya, mean it LOL
An-y-who.
It's that time of year in the pageant world - time for one of the most anticipated events of the year!!
Is it the christmas parties the coaches' throw? no
Is it pageant slumber parties? no
Is it Christmas cards from your friends? duh
Is it the biggest Christmas pageant of the year? that is soooo over
Is it the joy of finally getting all the hairspray, makeup, and tanning solution out of everything your 3 year old owns?? No, that's an impossible task anyway...
Ladies and Gentlemen!!!! It's time for the "unforgettable faces" year end online photo contest with the "Duos Doubles" contest!!
Aaahh friends - if you haven't lived through the mad scramble to find 2 and only 2 partners - and everyone wants to pair with the best photos out there - it can get well, messy. Now, there are those moms who are resourceful enough to hire hackers to find the email addys of the kids with the best pictures. And then there are those who email the directors to ask if they know if so-and-so might like to pair. Bless the brave souls who post to the voyager boards to ask for pairings and pick up lord knows what kind of spamming.
And finally, my personal favorites. The moms who don't email anyone or try to get good partners, that commence to then sit around and bitch online about how the "regulars" will always pair up and nobody wanted to pair with them and oh the same old people win... and somebody made a deal not to get paid so they could win, and so-and-so must be related...blah,blah,blah,blah, blah, infinity
Let the "wild rumpus" begin (name that book!) oh they gnash their gnarly teeth, and they roll their horrible eyes, and they wail their terrible wails....
As they say in the South, "Bless their Hearts"
Of course a $500 purse and boxes full of gifts for the winners can make even the nicest moms go greedy ;o)
In 7 days half the pageant world will be glued to a computer screen in every corner of the US (and possibly few Canadians too...) waiting for the results as to who the "best of the best" are in photo contest competition for the year...
Now for folks who don't quite have what this is about let me explain.
In pageantry, there is another world of competition called the "online photo contest." This is where you can take the photos you paid what no normal human being would pay for a photo that doesn't even really look like your kid and win STUFF - money, prizes, gifts, PR.... You can't discount the PR needed in pageantry. It's like Hollywood - any publicity is good publicity. And this is a critical aspect. So if your kid can get great pics from the best photographers, and build their name....well...it doesn't hurt. I can't put my finger on it, but somehow, when kids start either winning photo contests, or bashed on a bash board, they mysteriously start winning everything.... hmmmm.
Along with this competition (as with National Pageants) are the prediction boards - every mom wants to see their kid "predicted" to win - although I think most predictions are from the moms, grandmas, and those forced at gunpoint to name certain kids as the front runners. I don't think race horses get this much speculation or promotion... I think it would be very enterprising of me to be the first pageant "bookie" (but then I remember I have a soul AND a concience, darn it!!) And it can turn vicious if you aren't careful. One wrong move and you can become the victim of a vicious witchhunt!!! And these girls name names LOL I'd rather take a bitch slap up side the head ANY day... But it's all part of the game.
Oh and what's that? Well of COURSE we play, duh-huh! After all, I AM "Pageant Mom."
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
%#@@ **$(!& I #,(* HATE ^@#(!! TECHNOLOGY
I bought an HP3310 all in one printer last May. Of course, my son needs his paper printed for his writing class (and it's late in the evening.) So the (unladylike expletive) of a (piece of another unladylike expletive) thing keeps giving me (more expletives) funky error messages after I replaced the cartridges! The whole selling point of the (more expletives) item is you can replace one cartridge at a time! Well, you replace one, and it starts spitting up about the others. So I replaced them, followed all the instructions etc. still giving me (yet more expletives) the error.
MUST CONTROL FIST OF DEATH...
Called Best Buy - you gotta bring the (expletive expletive expletive) thing in. I tell the monotone guy on the customer not so service line DO NOT pa-tron-ize me I'm in IT you expletive idiot - so he says, well, I'll patch you to the geek squad. Yeah whatever, give me a geek... as long as he's not from expletive India (pause for clause: I have nothing against India, but when I am pissed I am NOT in the mood for the QUEEN's ENGLISH!!!!!!!) Expletive MORONS. Just tell me what the error is. So he said he'd get back in a moment... and he HUNG UP on me!!!! Expletive, break telephone, kick babies, eat nails...expletive piece of expletive printer.... He did NOT get back with me - he expletive HUNG UP!!!!! It's enough to make you want to claw your own eyes out and break the closest china (and it's probably something STUPID I'm just too angry and sleepy to deal with it!!!) ARRRRGHHHH!!!!
ARRRGHHH!!! ARRGGHHH!!! Just give me a freakin answer to my expletive expletive question!!!! Is that too much to ask??? (yes I went to the website, and yes, I followed the instructions, and yes I got Olli and his brother Krishna and his other brother Krishna to try to help me....)
If I didn't have $500 in the whole thing (including accessories and service plan) I'd push it out the expletive window!!!!!
>o(
p.s. For some reason they are sending me to "how to get along better with others class next week...." so I can be sanitized and politicized appropriately.... dunno why....
MUST CONTROL FIST OF DEATH...
Called Best Buy - you gotta bring the (expletive expletive expletive) thing in. I tell the monotone guy on the customer not so service line DO NOT pa-tron-ize me I'm in IT you expletive idiot - so he says, well, I'll patch you to the geek squad. Yeah whatever, give me a geek... as long as he's not from expletive India (pause for clause: I have nothing against India, but when I am pissed I am NOT in the mood for the QUEEN's ENGLISH!!!!!!!) Expletive MORONS. Just tell me what the error is. So he said he'd get back in a moment... and he HUNG UP on me!!!! Expletive, break telephone, kick babies, eat nails...expletive piece of expletive printer.... He did NOT get back with me - he expletive HUNG UP!!!!! It's enough to make you want to claw your own eyes out and break the closest china (and it's probably something STUPID I'm just too angry and sleepy to deal with it!!!) ARRRRGHHHH!!!!
ARRRGHHH!!! ARRGGHHH!!! Just give me a freakin answer to my expletive expletive question!!!! Is that too much to ask??? (yes I went to the website, and yes, I followed the instructions, and yes I got Olli and his brother Krishna and his other brother Krishna to try to help me....)
If I didn't have $500 in the whole thing (including accessories and service plan) I'd push it out the expletive window!!!!!
>o(
p.s. For some reason they are sending me to "how to get along better with others class next week...." so I can be sanitized and politicized appropriately.... dunno why....
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Can Money Buy you Love?
Okay, now I'm over posting, but I have to write this down before I forget it.
Last night we went as a family to the movies - we saw "The Santa Clause 3 - The Escape Clause" - btw very cute, but very cheesy - I liked it better than the others really though... Anyway, we went to the 9:00 showing, so we didn't get out until like 11:00!! Well, right across from the Cinemas is one of those shopping centers with stores like Old Navy, Bed Bath Beyond, etc.
Definitely the Heart of Middle Class Suburbia...
As we passed through the parking lot, there, in the middle of the deserted Old Navy lot was a guy parked, in an actual, for real, abso-pos-lu-tive-ly stunning, silver colored Lamborgini Gallardo!!!! No SHIT!!!
Not that the car parked in the center of the Old Navy lot at 11:00 on a Saturday night wasn't weird enough by itself, but the guy had both doors wide open cleaning the inside of the passenger side door.
He had a vanity plate that just said "Chad."
Now Gizmo was out cold, but this was just more than the rest of us could resist. So we started up surmizing why "Chad" was out cleaning the windows of a 6 figure valued car in the middle of a middle class area shopping mall almost in the middle of the night.
Husband: "I was really impressed until the 'Chad' plate. Must be some self absorbed dick who lives at home with his mother using it to pick up chicks."
Wife (uh, i.e. Me): " Maybe he was so into himself his date spit on the window before he shoved her out the door so now he has to clean it to go out" or "Maybe he's a serial killer or a pimp..."
12 year old son: "Uh DU-UH!!! Who needs a GIRL when you have a car like THAT???"
Altogether now sing!
"..Can't buy me lu-uve, lu-uve, no no, no, no no!"
Last night we went as a family to the movies - we saw "The Santa Clause 3 - The Escape Clause" - btw very cute, but very cheesy - I liked it better than the others really though... Anyway, we went to the 9:00 showing, so we didn't get out until like 11:00!! Well, right across from the Cinemas is one of those shopping centers with stores like Old Navy, Bed Bath Beyond, etc.
Definitely the Heart of Middle Class Suburbia...
As we passed through the parking lot, there, in the middle of the deserted Old Navy lot was a guy parked, in an actual, for real, abso-pos-lu-tive-ly stunning, silver colored Lamborgini Gallardo!!!! No SHIT!!!
Not that the car parked in the center of the Old Navy lot at 11:00 on a Saturday night wasn't weird enough by itself, but the guy had both doors wide open cleaning the inside of the passenger side door.
He had a vanity plate that just said "Chad."
Now Gizmo was out cold, but this was just more than the rest of us could resist. So we started up surmizing why "Chad" was out cleaning the windows of a 6 figure valued car in the middle of a middle class area shopping mall almost in the middle of the night.
Husband: "I was really impressed until the 'Chad' plate. Must be some self absorbed dick who lives at home with his mother using it to pick up chicks."
Wife (uh, i.e. Me): " Maybe he was so into himself his date spit on the window before he shoved her out the door so now he has to clean it to go out" or "Maybe he's a serial killer or a pimp..."
12 year old son: "Uh DU-UH!!! Who needs a GIRL when you have a car like THAT???"
Altogether now sing!
"..Can't buy me lu-uve, lu-uve, no no, no, no no!"
Thursday, November 30, 2006
My C-section story
I am posting this at the request of another blogger MadMomma. I also need to apologize for sending this late, it's been a crazy week!!!
****
It's interesting when you get a group of parents together and they start recounting the stories of childbirth. And although we pride ourselves on medical progress and improvements in civilization, childbirth is still less of, but nonetheless, a risky event for both mother and child. I mean think about it fundamentally...it's just not an obviously easy task based on the laws of time and physics... But anyway.
With my first child, I was 28 years old, and I taught aerobics 3-4 times a week. Oddly enough I ended up gaining like, 50 pounds, but overall it was fairly uneventful process except for having morning sickness - morning, noon, and night - and at the drop of any weird smell!!! I was due on July 21st, but woke up the wee morning hours of July 1st with an odd back pain. Now, I had taken the childbirth classes (I was a horrible student - I actually ran out and threw up after the childbirth video) and when I asked my husband if he wanted to be in the delivery room with me and he said "NO" I was actually kind of okay with it, because I didn't want to be in there either. And never mind that my in-laws insisted on showing me my sister-in-laws childbirth video (which had taken place just 3 months earlier) where her epidural didn't take and she was screaming in mortal pain the entire time.... oh no, that shouldn't bother me a bit! Anyway I digress..... THAT morning on July 1st something was just, well, different. So, as any woman in my situation would do, I called the doctor and asked. They were singularly non-chalant about the whole thing "Well, we'll see you if you really think it's necessary..." Wow! I'd love for people to pay me for my expertise just so I could be annoyed with them.... Anyway, it wasn't really anything earth shattering so I just puttered around the house, took a shower, etc. But I just couldn't get comfortable. Well, since the slight pain started around 1am I decided by 7am that I needed to go in whether they liked it or not.
So my husband drove me in, and since I was supposedly 3 weeks early, the doctor's office was in NO hurry to see me! After waiting in the office for an hour, they dully admitted me back to pee in a cup and see if there was a problem with my kidney, since that was in the area of the source of the pain. After ANOTHER half an hour, they gave me the results and were going to send me home, when the doctor on call said she thought she'd just take a quick look since I was in anyway.
So, I went back, and she said "let me do an internal check" OH BOY GOODY I CAN'T WAIT....
Her eyes got as big as saucers "OMG you're 6 centimeters - GO TO THE HOSPITAL, do not pass GO, do not collect $200, do not get a bag, git GIT GIIIITTTTT!!!!!!!!!" Oh, well, now we know what it takes to get their attention. My husband stopped at every green light and ran every red trying to get me there (I'm really lucky to be here!) Fortunately, when I got to the hospital they had a room ready...epidural? check! 3 pushes? check! by 7:30 I had a ready to go Baby!!!! Only thing was, he came out so fast, my husband started to panick because his head looked like one of those pointy birthday hats, and his face looked like it had been run over and the tracks of the offending vehicle were still left on his face (he still has a few remaining broken blood vessels to this day -very faint but still there.)
My point for the first child is, I still don't think childbirth is an exact science. The doctors are either so desensitized to what they see and hear everyday, or they still don't have a clue... I dunno.
With child #2 things were a LOT different. First, she was a statistical anomoly (you know that 1% caveat on the side of the box? meet your lottery winner!!!) Second, I was 35 and not at an age that I wanted to be having children. Enter major depression. I didn't ask for this baby, I didn't want this baby, I didn't want to have anything to do with any of it. Having a girl? I would be a terrible girl mom! Not to mention I think the doctor's would have rather delivered babys in taxis than deal with my appointments!! How did this happen? Why me? Something is not right. Yet they all patted my on my head. A wonderful pregnancy, a perfect pregnancy... weight gain? perfect! Blood work? perfect! measurements? perfect! Attitude.... well, anyway....
Around 5-6 months I just knew something wasn't right. Two females sharing the same space just wasn't working. I couldn't get the doctors to listen to me until about month 8 when a new doctor (young and out of school) actually CHECKED me and realized that Gizmo was NOT in a good position. She was fanny down with no room to turn - what's known as a "Frank breach" (why they call it this, I don't know maybe some guy named Frank found it...) anyway, the recommendation was that the doctors go in and turn the baby.
Now if any of you don't know what this is, it's a real blast! They take you to the hospital, give you some medicine to loosen up your uterus and then two doctors come in and try to SHOVE the baby into a new position! It's real scientific, one doctor gets at one end and the other takes the remaining end and they don't push they put they're backs into it... and it HURTS LIKE HELL. Now, the logical question is, does anyone go into labor from this? According to the doctors, "no", according to MY biology, "Uh, DUH, why Yes" (dumbasses I'm not THAT naive.) I think sometimes doctors think you're stupid because they're doctors and you should just turn your body over to them with out question. Hell, I happen to live here and NO you don't get to do whatever you want!!! (I have personal story after story where I just don't think they get it that their opinion can be wrong sometimes...) Anyway, guess what? Princess didn't just NOT turn she stuck her feet straight up and FOUGHT IT!!! And I got to enjoy 2 hours of monitored false labor. Lucky me.
Two weeks later the decision was made not to even attempt a vaginal birth, because the position of the baby plus her size might kill one or both of us. When they tell you that, with confidence, you don't even argue about doing a C section. All that matters is that you both come out safe and healthy. Now, granted, the last thing I wanted, but if you think about it, millions of children come out okay without having a so-called "perfect birth." I had one friend who planned a "perfect home birth" - she only met with a doula (midwife) and never saw a doctor at all - she wanted only to give birth in a peaceful state of tranquility and absolutely NO drugs - her opinion was if she did ANYTHING otherwise, her child would end up in therapy and probably a serial killer. Well, the baby didn't get in the correct position, and then she was in severe labor and realized that maybe she wasn't that tough. Well, to make a long story short, miss "I'm going to do everything natural" ended up not only getting medicated, didn't have a vaginal birth, and had to have an emergency C section - it's funny how things clear up when you start staring your's and your baby's health square in the face.
Needless to say, my child, my friend's child, and their mothers are healthy, happy, and suffer no ill effects from having C sections. It was never a question when it came down to safety and health. And I'll have to say, C section babies do come out much prettier LOL But I also think you have to watch the doctors and make sure they are taking the right steps for your situation. Your health is YOUR responsibility and sometimes you have to question and take control. If you don't agree with a doctor or have a shred of doubt, seek second, third, fourth, opinions, until YOU are confident the right decision is being made. It's your body, not theirs, or anyone elses!
I will have to mention though, that when I went into labor it was at my son's ballgame - and my husband had the nerve to ask me to hang on until they finished the last inning... well, by the time I got to the hospital I was howling like a caged puppy!!! And to make matters worse, by the time they got me into rush surgery, they apparently didn't realize the cabinets lining the operating room were so clean and shiny, they functioned as "mirrors" - so I happened to look over about the time they were pulling Gizmo out....
...there are just some things you do NOT need to see.
****
It's interesting when you get a group of parents together and they start recounting the stories of childbirth. And although we pride ourselves on medical progress and improvements in civilization, childbirth is still less of, but nonetheless, a risky event for both mother and child. I mean think about it fundamentally...it's just not an obviously easy task based on the laws of time and physics... But anyway.
With my first child, I was 28 years old, and I taught aerobics 3-4 times a week. Oddly enough I ended up gaining like, 50 pounds, but overall it was fairly uneventful process except for having morning sickness - morning, noon, and night - and at the drop of any weird smell!!! I was due on July 21st, but woke up the wee morning hours of July 1st with an odd back pain. Now, I had taken the childbirth classes (I was a horrible student - I actually ran out and threw up after the childbirth video) and when I asked my husband if he wanted to be in the delivery room with me and he said "NO" I was actually kind of okay with it, because I didn't want to be in there either. And never mind that my in-laws insisted on showing me my sister-in-laws childbirth video (which had taken place just 3 months earlier) where her epidural didn't take and she was screaming in mortal pain the entire time.... oh no, that shouldn't bother me a bit! Anyway I digress..... THAT morning on July 1st something was just, well, different. So, as any woman in my situation would do, I called the doctor and asked. They were singularly non-chalant about the whole thing "Well, we'll see you if you really think it's necessary..." Wow! I'd love for people to pay me for my expertise just so I could be annoyed with them.... Anyway, it wasn't really anything earth shattering so I just puttered around the house, took a shower, etc. But I just couldn't get comfortable. Well, since the slight pain started around 1am I decided by 7am that I needed to go in whether they liked it or not.
So my husband drove me in, and since I was supposedly 3 weeks early, the doctor's office was in NO hurry to see me! After waiting in the office for an hour, they dully admitted me back to pee in a cup and see if there was a problem with my kidney, since that was in the area of the source of the pain. After ANOTHER half an hour, they gave me the results and were going to send me home, when the doctor on call said she thought she'd just take a quick look since I was in anyway.
So, I went back, and she said "let me do an internal check" OH BOY GOODY I CAN'T WAIT....
Her eyes got as big as saucers "OMG you're 6 centimeters - GO TO THE HOSPITAL, do not pass GO, do not collect $200, do not get a bag, git GIT GIIIITTTTT!!!!!!!!!" Oh, well, now we know what it takes to get their attention. My husband stopped at every green light and ran every red trying to get me there (I'm really lucky to be here!) Fortunately, when I got to the hospital they had a room ready...epidural? check! 3 pushes? check! by 7:30 I had a ready to go Baby!!!! Only thing was, he came out so fast, my husband started to panick because his head looked like one of those pointy birthday hats, and his face looked like it had been run over and the tracks of the offending vehicle were still left on his face (he still has a few remaining broken blood vessels to this day -very faint but still there.)
My point for the first child is, I still don't think childbirth is an exact science. The doctors are either so desensitized to what they see and hear everyday, or they still don't have a clue... I dunno.
With child #2 things were a LOT different. First, she was a statistical anomoly (you know that 1% caveat on the side of the box? meet your lottery winner!!!) Second, I was 35 and not at an age that I wanted to be having children. Enter major depression. I didn't ask for this baby, I didn't want this baby, I didn't want to have anything to do with any of it. Having a girl? I would be a terrible girl mom! Not to mention I think the doctor's would have rather delivered babys in taxis than deal with my appointments!! How did this happen? Why me? Something is not right. Yet they all patted my on my head. A wonderful pregnancy, a perfect pregnancy... weight gain? perfect! Blood work? perfect! measurements? perfect! Attitude.... well, anyway....
Around 5-6 months I just knew something wasn't right. Two females sharing the same space just wasn't working. I couldn't get the doctors to listen to me until about month 8 when a new doctor (young and out of school) actually CHECKED me and realized that Gizmo was NOT in a good position. She was fanny down with no room to turn - what's known as a "Frank breach" (why they call it this, I don't know maybe some guy named Frank found it...) anyway, the recommendation was that the doctors go in and turn the baby.
Now if any of you don't know what this is, it's a real blast! They take you to the hospital, give you some medicine to loosen up your uterus and then two doctors come in and try to SHOVE the baby into a new position! It's real scientific, one doctor gets at one end and the other takes the remaining end and they don't push they put they're backs into it... and it HURTS LIKE HELL. Now, the logical question is, does anyone go into labor from this? According to the doctors, "no", according to MY biology, "Uh, DUH, why Yes" (dumbasses I'm not THAT naive.) I think sometimes doctors think you're stupid because they're doctors and you should just turn your body over to them with out question. Hell, I happen to live here and NO you don't get to do whatever you want!!! (I have personal story after story where I just don't think they get it that their opinion can be wrong sometimes...) Anyway, guess what? Princess didn't just NOT turn she stuck her feet straight up and FOUGHT IT!!! And I got to enjoy 2 hours of monitored false labor. Lucky me.
Two weeks later the decision was made not to even attempt a vaginal birth, because the position of the baby plus her size might kill one or both of us. When they tell you that, with confidence, you don't even argue about doing a C section. All that matters is that you both come out safe and healthy. Now, granted, the last thing I wanted, but if you think about it, millions of children come out okay without having a so-called "perfect birth." I had one friend who planned a "perfect home birth" - she only met with a doula (midwife) and never saw a doctor at all - she wanted only to give birth in a peaceful state of tranquility and absolutely NO drugs - her opinion was if she did ANYTHING otherwise, her child would end up in therapy and probably a serial killer. Well, the baby didn't get in the correct position, and then she was in severe labor and realized that maybe she wasn't that tough. Well, to make a long story short, miss "I'm going to do everything natural" ended up not only getting medicated, didn't have a vaginal birth, and had to have an emergency C section - it's funny how things clear up when you start staring your's and your baby's health square in the face.
Needless to say, my child, my friend's child, and their mothers are healthy, happy, and suffer no ill effects from having C sections. It was never a question when it came down to safety and health. And I'll have to say, C section babies do come out much prettier LOL But I also think you have to watch the doctors and make sure they are taking the right steps for your situation. Your health is YOUR responsibility and sometimes you have to question and take control. If you don't agree with a doctor or have a shred of doubt, seek second, third, fourth, opinions, until YOU are confident the right decision is being made. It's your body, not theirs, or anyone elses!
I will have to mention though, that when I went into labor it was at my son's ballgame - and my husband had the nerve to ask me to hang on until they finished the last inning... well, by the time I got to the hospital I was howling like a caged puppy!!! And to make matters worse, by the time they got me into rush surgery, they apparently didn't realize the cabinets lining the operating room were so clean and shiny, they functioned as "mirrors" - so I happened to look over about the time they were pulling Gizmo out....
...there are just some things you do NOT need to see.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Okay, I'll take any compliment I can get
I got the best backhanded compliment today.
Mr. Business #1 is known, globally, in our company as being the absolute worst human being to work with on the planet. Literally. I think he's been banned in at least three countries!! He gets frustrated if you can't read his mind, treats EVERYONE as if they were a class A moron, and thinks talking louder increases comprehension. He also does not get it that we only have 1.2 people on my team to do the work of 5 people. (I refuse to use the word "resources" - it's so de-humanizing) And this frustrates the absolute HELL out of him (never mind HE's the one who agreed to the cut budget!!) In general, if he calls I NEVER pick up the phone - I wait for an IM or I'll pick up a voicemail a few minutes later. I have instructed my team (of all men LOL) to do the same. You have to prepare as if for the SAT just to take a phone call!!!
Now never mind he NEVER picks up his phone, and doesn't read ANY of the emails we send to him with important information. We're idiots that should be treated with the disrespect we deserve. This is the same guy who writes programming requirements and expects us to code "including but not limited too the following items." Obviously he has a lot of faith in our team's capabilities to code deductive reasoning. We're completely flattered, but we just have to bring him back to reality - constantly.
Don't get me wrong, I absolutely understand and take the business needs very seriously; but it's really difficult to keep a straight face or attitude with this type of behaviour to deal with!! Well, today he was particularly frustrated, since my main support guy is out on jury duty, and Mr. Business #1 couldn't IMMEDIATELY get him on the phone for an "emergency." Per his voicemail to me:
"I CAN'T GET ANYBODY TO ANSWER THE DAMN PHONE - I'M NOT GOING TO CALL ANYONE ON YOUR TEAM BECAUSE THEY WON'T DO A DAMN THING UNTIL YOU SAY IT'S OKAY. YOU RULE THOSE GUYS WITH AN IRON FIST but I... have business needs...."
I love my team ;o) I'm not going to let anybody shove my guys around. They work hard in a tough environment, and as long as they are pulling their weight, I'm going to keep them focused and un-disturbed! They're hard to get and they're hard to keep!
Of course, using me and Iron Fist conceptually in the same sentence is pretty amusing (I am an ex-beauty queen of all things and Blonde!!! LOLOLOL!)
Poor thing. Never mind the reason I do this is because if I don't he will harrass, harangue, cajole, pester, lecture, weedle, push, shove, and insult my guys until he thinks he can effectively badger them into being able to do the work of 10 people simultaneously. Our priorities are set on Monday's and if I let him have his way we'd never finish one freakin' thing..... To let him loose on my guys, on Monday morning after he's pushed them all to try to get his every whim and what for adhered to he conveniently gets amnesia in our weekly meeting and says "IT is a failure, what the HELL have you guys been doing all week?"
I burn more calories just shaking my head in this job....
Mr. Business #1 is known, globally, in our company as being the absolute worst human being to work with on the planet. Literally. I think he's been banned in at least three countries!! He gets frustrated if you can't read his mind, treats EVERYONE as if they were a class A moron, and thinks talking louder increases comprehension. He also does not get it that we only have 1.2 people on my team to do the work of 5 people. (I refuse to use the word "resources" - it's so de-humanizing) And this frustrates the absolute HELL out of him (never mind HE's the one who agreed to the cut budget!!) In general, if he calls I NEVER pick up the phone - I wait for an IM or I'll pick up a voicemail a few minutes later. I have instructed my team (of all men LOL) to do the same. You have to prepare as if for the SAT just to take a phone call!!!
Now never mind he NEVER picks up his phone, and doesn't read ANY of the emails we send to him with important information. We're idiots that should be treated with the disrespect we deserve. This is the same guy who writes programming requirements and expects us to code "including but not limited too the following items." Obviously he has a lot of faith in our team's capabilities to code deductive reasoning. We're completely flattered, but we just have to bring him back to reality - constantly.
Don't get me wrong, I absolutely understand and take the business needs very seriously; but it's really difficult to keep a straight face or attitude with this type of behaviour to deal with!! Well, today he was particularly frustrated, since my main support guy is out on jury duty, and Mr. Business #1 couldn't IMMEDIATELY get him on the phone for an "emergency." Per his voicemail to me:
"I CAN'T GET ANYBODY TO ANSWER THE DAMN PHONE - I'M NOT GOING TO CALL ANYONE ON YOUR TEAM BECAUSE THEY WON'T DO A DAMN THING UNTIL YOU SAY IT'S OKAY. YOU RULE THOSE GUYS WITH AN IRON FIST but I... have business needs...."
I love my team ;o) I'm not going to let anybody shove my guys around. They work hard in a tough environment, and as long as they are pulling their weight, I'm going to keep them focused and un-disturbed! They're hard to get and they're hard to keep!
Of course, using me and Iron Fist conceptually in the same sentence is pretty amusing (I am an ex-beauty queen of all things and Blonde!!! LOLOLOL!)
Poor thing. Never mind the reason I do this is because if I don't he will harrass, harangue, cajole, pester, lecture, weedle, push, shove, and insult my guys until he thinks he can effectively badger them into being able to do the work of 10 people simultaneously. Our priorities are set on Monday's and if I let him have his way we'd never finish one freakin' thing..... To let him loose on my guys, on Monday morning after he's pushed them all to try to get his every whim and what for adhered to he conveniently gets amnesia in our weekly meeting and says "IT is a failure, what the HELL have you guys been doing all week?"
I burn more calories just shaking my head in this job....
Saturday, November 25, 2006
ahhh Out of the mouth of babes...
Gizmo spent a better part of the afternoon of Thanksgiving running around her Graam & Papa's property - fishing in the pond, riding the golf cart, and just plain ol' running around. Since the menfolk were outside with the kids, I didn't see much of what was going on because I was gratefully catching a nap inside... but I went by my sister in law's today and her husband related to me a little story.
Now you have to keep in mind, Gizmo is a very sweet child, but has some well, "delivery" problems with comments that she makes (keep in mind she's only 4)...
Apparently, Gizmo was sitting next to her uncle on the golfcart, and she likes to snuggle, so he let her nestle up on his shoulder since it was a bit chilly out. As she was doing so, she began to gently rub his forearm, as if she was "enjoying" petting the hair on his arm. He said she looked up at him, ever so sweetly and said "Uncle J", as she abruptly stopped patting his arm, "you have a lot of hair on your arm!" "Why yes I do" said Uncle J, as his arms are, well, extremely hairy (to say the least.) He said she then looked at him with an expression of utmost earnesty and said:
"You really need to shave. That's a real problem you've got there. "
Ooooh-kaaaay.... Seems like we probably ought to put "learn using tact" on the list of to-dos this week...
Now you have to keep in mind, Gizmo is a very sweet child, but has some well, "delivery" problems with comments that she makes (keep in mind she's only 4)...
Apparently, Gizmo was sitting next to her uncle on the golfcart, and she likes to snuggle, so he let her nestle up on his shoulder since it was a bit chilly out. As she was doing so, she began to gently rub his forearm, as if she was "enjoying" petting the hair on his arm. He said she looked up at him, ever so sweetly and said "Uncle J", as she abruptly stopped patting his arm, "you have a lot of hair on your arm!" "Why yes I do" said Uncle J, as his arms are, well, extremely hairy (to say the least.) He said she then looked at him with an expression of utmost earnesty and said:
"You really need to shave. That's a real problem you've got there. "
Ooooh-kaaaay.... Seems like we probably ought to put "learn using tact" on the list of to-dos this week...
Friday, November 24, 2006
tired i am so geez.... margaritas three... not much after that....
Okay, well Ms.Brilliant here again. I'm so tired I could sleep on the driveway with the neighbor's dogs for pillows. Today, I decided to find out what all the hoopla was about "Black Friday".
Well, I figured it out. Half the people go out to find the 1/1,000,000 deal. The others just go to watch and buy crap they didn't intend to. Not sure which category I fit into, might be obvious to you guys in internetland.
I didn't even start out right - I just couldnotgetout of bed at 4:30. I don't even think a piledriver coming through the window would have worked either. So I was late. LA DE DA. So I thought. I left the house at 5:25am feeling pretty smug that all my neighbor's dark houses were the result of massively poor planning on their part and that I was the smarty pants of Wereallinthewitnessprotectionprogram Boulevard. Yeah right - rookie!!! No traffic on the way out to Target. 'This is going to be a big piece of cake' I thought. Miles 1-3 - no traffic. Miles 4-8 - even less traffic. Miles 8-finish line..... round the corner....
OMG!!!!!!! Now, it's pretty shocking for somebody as smart as me to get smacked in the head with a "oh no you're NOT so smart" moment (I seem to have a lot of these lately...) and I then realized that the reason all the houses in my neighborhood were dark was because THEY WERE ALREADY THERE!!!!!!! Why didn't they call me? Were there alarms? How could they leeeavve me behind!!!!!! Why didn't the stupid dogs bark and alert me that everyone was exiting the area??? Lord help us if there's ever a tornado!!!!
I'm guessing there were over 1000 people at Target. It was a wee bit surreal seeing absolutely NO signs of life, for a 10mile radius, then come up on the mob scene at Target. In the dark. Half asleep. A startling leap into lucidity for that time of the morning (at my age, I'm not even sure it's safe for that kind of jolt.)
But Hey! I'm no wimp... so I parked my car in the overflow lot, and armed with a thermos full of Amp and a bag full of donuts I merged in with the crowd and forged into the swarm, not really knowing what to expect...
It looked like the end of days. Shelves, empty, except for the few crumbs of packaging remnants and a stray dvd or two. People lined up arguing for a raincheck any raincheck, desperation showing on their faces for the last of the "gonnacatchonfireimsurebrand" DVD players, videocameras and batteries. I missed getting the last of the imaho dolls on sale for 4.99 (Gizmo will be crushed and in therapy for years I'm sure) and my son I'm sure will suffer back pain until the end of days since I lost the wrestling match for the last of the $33 videogame chairs. (But I did get an offhand offer to play for the local roller dearby team) Blank stares on faces of zombies pushing red carts to nowhere, clinging to a large starbucks and a stack of empty ad promises.... OH GOD I KNOW WHAT ARMEGEDDON LOOKS LIKE NOW!!!!
I grabbed the last of the half priced dirt devils and ran, with what little of my dignity I could gather up (not too much left at that after my ob appt last week), and on the way out managed to grab just a few things... only 42 dvds, 14 pairs of fluffy socks, 3 christmas shirts,4 mystery kitchen appliances, 8 blankets, an assortment of chapstick, 2 off brand digital cameras, some towels I think I can sell on e-bay, a Hello Kitty comforter, some clearance items I think I'm still going to have to ask around as to what they actually are, and a large latte extra milk, no whipped cream thank you very much I am in a hurry to get out I am so not into this. Really.
Now I have to figure out how to fit the gifts to the recipients, I ain't goin' back. No sir, it's not safe in thar. I did my time.
(I made my husband take me out for Mexican tonight and I got THREE margaritas. I earned 'em)
Well, I figured it out. Half the people go out to find the 1/1,000,000 deal. The others just go to watch and buy crap they didn't intend to. Not sure which category I fit into, might be obvious to you guys in internetland.
I didn't even start out right - I just couldnotgetout of bed at 4:30. I don't even think a piledriver coming through the window would have worked either. So I was late. LA DE DA. So I thought. I left the house at 5:25am feeling pretty smug that all my neighbor's dark houses were the result of massively poor planning on their part and that I was the smarty pants of Wereallinthewitnessprotectionprogram Boulevard. Yeah right - rookie!!! No traffic on the way out to Target. 'This is going to be a big piece of cake' I thought. Miles 1-3 - no traffic. Miles 4-8 - even less traffic. Miles 8-finish line..... round the corner....
OMG!!!!!!! Now, it's pretty shocking for somebody as smart as me to get smacked in the head with a "oh no you're NOT so smart" moment (I seem to have a lot of these lately...) and I then realized that the reason all the houses in my neighborhood were dark was because THEY WERE ALREADY THERE!!!!!!! Why didn't they call me? Were there alarms? How could they leeeavve me behind!!!!!! Why didn't the stupid dogs bark and alert me that everyone was exiting the area??? Lord help us if there's ever a tornado!!!!
I'm guessing there were over 1000 people at Target. It was a wee bit surreal seeing absolutely NO signs of life, for a 10mile radius, then come up on the mob scene at Target. In the dark. Half asleep. A startling leap into lucidity for that time of the morning (at my age, I'm not even sure it's safe for that kind of jolt.)
But Hey! I'm no wimp... so I parked my car in the overflow lot, and armed with a thermos full of Amp and a bag full of donuts I merged in with the crowd and forged into the swarm, not really knowing what to expect...
It looked like the end of days. Shelves, empty, except for the few crumbs of packaging remnants and a stray dvd or two. People lined up arguing for a raincheck any raincheck, desperation showing on their faces for the last of the "gonnacatchonfireimsurebrand" DVD players, videocameras and batteries. I missed getting the last of the imaho dolls on sale for 4.99 (Gizmo will be crushed and in therapy for years I'm sure) and my son I'm sure will suffer back pain until the end of days since I lost the wrestling match for the last of the $33 videogame chairs. (But I did get an offhand offer to play for the local roller dearby team) Blank stares on faces of zombies pushing red carts to nowhere, clinging to a large starbucks and a stack of empty ad promises.... OH GOD I KNOW WHAT ARMEGEDDON LOOKS LIKE NOW!!!!
I grabbed the last of the half priced dirt devils and ran, with what little of my dignity I could gather up (not too much left at that after my ob appt last week), and on the way out managed to grab just a few things... only 42 dvds, 14 pairs of fluffy socks, 3 christmas shirts,4 mystery kitchen appliances, 8 blankets, an assortment of chapstick, 2 off brand digital cameras, some towels I think I can sell on e-bay, a Hello Kitty comforter, some clearance items I think I'm still going to have to ask around as to what they actually are, and a large latte extra milk, no whipped cream thank you very much I am in a hurry to get out I am so not into this. Really.
Now I have to figure out how to fit the gifts to the recipients, I ain't goin' back. No sir, it's not safe in thar. I did my time.
(I made my husband take me out for Mexican tonight and I got THREE margaritas. I earned 'em)
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
An ode to my readers
Now, being fairly new to blogging, I just want to say how excited I get when a new reader posts ANYTHING to my little posts on this and that....
So in honor of the few, very brave, marvelous bloggers that have visited my site, I would like to sing you a little song. Now, given that this is just text, you'll have to work with me... (warming up! lalala laaaaaaaa......) Are my backup dancers ready? CHECK!
ahh hemm!!!! Here goes!
"Addicted to BLOGS"
You're lights are on, and you're at home
You're mind, is not your own
Your hands sweat, your keyboard shakes
Another thought, is what it takes
You can't sleep, you can't eat
There's no doubt, you're in deep
You sit and wait, you can't abate
Another read, is what you need
Whoa, you like to think that you're immune to the stuff, oh yeah
It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough you know you're gonna have to face it you're addicted to blogs
You see the notes, you don't dare blink
Another quip, is what you think
Your heart beats in double time
One more response, and you'll be fine, a one track mind
You can't be saved
More readers on, is all you crave
Anticipate, what they will think
If you are witty, or if you drink....
Whoa, you like to think that you're immune to the stuff, oh yeah, oh LOL, oh ROTFLMAO,
oh JMHO, oh KEWL, ...... (oops got a little carried away)
It's closer to the truth you know you're gonna have to face it you're addicted to BLOGS
Might as well face it you're addicted to blogs
Might as well face it you're addicted to blogs
Might as well face it you're addicted to blogs
Might as well face it you're addicted to blogs
Might as well face it you're addicted to blogs
ALL TOGETHER NOW Air Guitar Solo!!!! (pardon me a minute)
You're at your desk, or a cafe'
Your attention, is all asway
You're almost blind from all you view
There's so much stuff, beyond the news!
It was just supposed to be for friends and close fam-i-ly, Oh yeah you're gonna have to face it you're addicted to blogs.
(Sing with me now!! )
Might as well face it, youre addicted to blogs
Might as well face it, youre addicted to blogs
Might as well face it, youre addicted to blogs
Might as well face it, youre addicted to blogs
Might as well face it, youre addicted to blogs
..****APPLAUSE****....
Thanka, thanka vera much
pageantmom has left the building....
So in honor of the few, very brave, marvelous bloggers that have visited my site, I would like to sing you a little song. Now, given that this is just text, you'll have to work with me... (warming up! lalala laaaaaaaa......) Are my backup dancers ready? CHECK!
ahh hemm!!!! Here goes!
"Addicted to BLOGS"
You're lights are on, and you're at home
You're mind, is not your own
Your hands sweat, your keyboard shakes
Another thought, is what it takes
You can't sleep, you can't eat
There's no doubt, you're in deep
You sit and wait, you can't abate
Another read, is what you need
Whoa, you like to think that you're immune to the stuff, oh yeah
It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough you know you're gonna have to face it you're addicted to blogs
You see the notes, you don't dare blink
Another quip, is what you think
Your heart beats in double time
One more response, and you'll be fine, a one track mind
You can't be saved
More readers on, is all you crave
Anticipate, what they will think
If you are witty, or if you drink....
Whoa, you like to think that you're immune to the stuff, oh yeah, oh LOL, oh ROTFLMAO,
oh JMHO, oh KEWL, ...... (oops got a little carried away)
It's closer to the truth you know you're gonna have to face it you're addicted to BLOGS
Might as well face it you're addicted to blogs
Might as well face it you're addicted to blogs
Might as well face it you're addicted to blogs
Might as well face it you're addicted to blogs
Might as well face it you're addicted to blogs
ALL TOGETHER NOW Air Guitar Solo!!!! (pardon me a minute)
You're at your desk, or a cafe'
Your attention, is all asway
You're almost blind from all you view
There's so much stuff, beyond the news!
It was just supposed to be for friends and close fam-i-ly, Oh yeah you're gonna have to face it you're addicted to blogs.
(Sing with me now!! )
Might as well face it, youre addicted to blogs
Might as well face it, youre addicted to blogs
Might as well face it, youre addicted to blogs
Might as well face it, youre addicted to blogs
Might as well face it, youre addicted to blogs
..****APPLAUSE****....
Thanka, thanka vera much
pageantmom has left the building....
Monday, November 20, 2006
SAY WHAT!!!????
Lucky me. Somehow I managed to the get two most world-famous difficult business departments to please in the entire corporation. It's like playing wack-a-mole every day. I get one side settled, the other starts up.
Now, admittedly, I have the honor of supporting our national sales force IT applications. And although the product we sell is something EVERYONE in the US MUST have, it is not necessarily an "impulse" purchase. These guys are, at the least, formidable opponents who think they have to "hit back first" with IT and degrade, flog, insult, nag, and pester in order to motivate our team to work 150 times harder than they normally have to (nevermind THEY cut our IT budget by 60% this year and RAN OFF two of my best developers!!!) Anyway, I digress.
Now, my team struggles daily to maintain our professionalism in the throes of a large beaureaucratic (did I spell that right?) environment and deal with these Divas from Hell so each day is a challenge... and I, as the team leader proabably struggle the most since I have to deal with these dodos directly every day. Thought "hmmm, phone is ringing - let's see, would I rather answer it or chew off my own foot?...............pause........ well, I AM hungry......" Anyway.
I have a new short term programmer working for me until dec 31. He's a guy that is NOT a people person, and has nothing to lose and his skills are hard to find on the market(he KNOWS we need him.) Hey, what am I gonna do? fire him? I'm under tremendous pressure to have several projects done by Dec 31 and it takes a special person to withstand our environment.
So. I made the choice move of inviting him to a meeting with the business for which, admittedly, I was not well prepared.
Well, Ms. Business side #2 just lit into us as normal and of course, we do our usual round up back to the facts, just the facts, ma'am (this WORKS, trust me) and then she started in on the "new guy." If you don't have answers she likes immediately, things tend to get ugly.
He looked at her after a couple minutes, and leaned across the table and said:
"MA'AM! I don't like the way you are talking to me. Nor do I appreciate you treating me like an idiot, and frankly, I think you need to watch YOUR ATTITUDE LADY >o" Then he said, "I don't know who the hell you think you are, and you just need to come down off your high horse because I am NOT going to deal with you!"
I didn't know whether to smack him or kiss him.
She LEANED across the table and said "WHAT???!!!!"
Then she looked at me and said "You need to DO SOMETHING!!! Deal with your employee!!!!"
I was powerless to do anything because I didn't know whether to laugh or cry LOLOLOL
I was like the proverbial dear in the headlights!!
Well, needless to say, it got kind of blurry from there as I did my usual re-direction and deflection (I am the politician of the group) and when the moment came where I could release "Mr. Personality" to go finish something else, and was feeling really bad about the whole thing...after he walked out of the room she looked at me and the other participants and said:
"DOESN'T HE KNOW I'M A BITCH????"
Well, I guess he does now. And then, I didn't feel so bad. As a matter of fact, I felt pretty good...
Ahhhhh, The joys of corporate life.
Now, admittedly, I have the honor of supporting our national sales force IT applications. And although the product we sell is something EVERYONE in the US MUST have, it is not necessarily an "impulse" purchase. These guys are, at the least, formidable opponents who think they have to "hit back first" with IT and degrade, flog, insult, nag, and pester in order to motivate our team to work 150 times harder than they normally have to (nevermind THEY cut our IT budget by 60% this year and RAN OFF two of my best developers!!!) Anyway, I digress.
Now, my team struggles daily to maintain our professionalism in the throes of a large beaureaucratic (did I spell that right?) environment and deal with these Divas from Hell so each day is a challenge... and I, as the team leader proabably struggle the most since I have to deal with these dodos directly every day. Thought "hmmm, phone is ringing - let's see, would I rather answer it or chew off my own foot?...............pause........ well, I AM hungry......" Anyway.
I have a new short term programmer working for me until dec 31. He's a guy that is NOT a people person, and has nothing to lose and his skills are hard to find on the market(he KNOWS we need him.) Hey, what am I gonna do? fire him? I'm under tremendous pressure to have several projects done by Dec 31 and it takes a special person to withstand our environment.
So. I made the choice move of inviting him to a meeting with the business for which, admittedly, I was not well prepared.
Well, Ms. Business side #2 just lit into us as normal and of course, we do our usual round up back to the facts, just the facts, ma'am (this WORKS, trust me) and then she started in on the "new guy." If you don't have answers she likes immediately, things tend to get ugly.
He looked at her after a couple minutes, and leaned across the table and said:
"MA'AM! I don't like the way you are talking to me. Nor do I appreciate you treating me like an idiot, and frankly, I think you need to watch YOUR ATTITUDE LADY >o" Then he said, "I don't know who the hell you think you are, and you just need to come down off your high horse because I am NOT going to deal with you!"
I didn't know whether to smack him or kiss him.
She LEANED across the table and said "WHAT???!!!!"
Then she looked at me and said "You need to DO SOMETHING!!! Deal with your employee!!!!"
I was powerless to do anything because I didn't know whether to laugh or cry LOLOLOL
I was like the proverbial dear in the headlights!!
Well, needless to say, it got kind of blurry from there as I did my usual re-direction and deflection (I am the politician of the group) and when the moment came where I could release "Mr. Personality" to go finish something else, and was feeling really bad about the whole thing...after he walked out of the room she looked at me and the other participants and said:
"DOESN'T HE KNOW I'M A BITCH????"
Well, I guess he does now. And then, I didn't feel so bad. As a matter of fact, I felt pretty good...
Ahhhhh, The joys of corporate life.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Of course, Mr Doctor, I AM "bitchy" today!!!
Today I got to participate in my favorite yearly event.
Oh the beloved annual visit to the ob-gyn.
Just the mere idea of having to go sends my blood pressure up at LEAST 30 points.
Notably, my doctor erroneously asked me why I was so grouchy for all my annual visits - after all, "what had he done to deserve such a bad attitude from me all these years?"
I apologized and asked him not to take it personally. And after a brief moment of pensive thought I responded:
"Never mind, the minute I walk in, your perniciously perky receptionist starts in on what a nice day it is and her gratuitous, yet contrived efforts to be overly pleasant start off raking on my already edgy demeanor. The next series of questions, that after 12 years of NO changes, I still must answer. Next, I have to wait for 30 minutes in a waiting room full of annoyed and bored husbands and boyfriends - all of which now KNOW what I'm going to have to do... Once my name is called in a depersonalized fashion 'MSSSSUSS. SMMMMITH!' (no real name used here of course) you force me to attempt a skilled exercise for which I am not physically designed to do properly - the whole pee in a thimble mess. After the initial denuding of my dignity, I am STABBED in the finger, made to stand on the ENEMY known as the "scales" and if THAT isn't enough, you stick me in a refrigerated room with nothing but a tissue to cover up with and only "Oprah" magazines to read for God knows how long.... THEN you come in here and SMASH what's left of the bags formerly known as breasts after nursing two wonderful children, and if that wasn't enough....,
YOU SCRAPE MY VAGINA WITH A TOOTHPICK!!!!!
....and have the nerve to ASK ME WHY I AM IN A BAD MOOD????"
Awkward Silence.
Needless to say, I got an extra bag of samples today >o)
Oh the beloved annual visit to the ob-gyn.
Just the mere idea of having to go sends my blood pressure up at LEAST 30 points.
Notably, my doctor erroneously asked me why I was so grouchy for all my annual visits - after all, "what had he done to deserve such a bad attitude from me all these years?"
I apologized and asked him not to take it personally. And after a brief moment of pensive thought I responded:
"Never mind, the minute I walk in, your perniciously perky receptionist starts in on what a nice day it is and her gratuitous, yet contrived efforts to be overly pleasant start off raking on my already edgy demeanor. The next series of questions, that after 12 years of NO changes, I still must answer. Next, I have to wait for 30 minutes in a waiting room full of annoyed and bored husbands and boyfriends - all of which now KNOW what I'm going to have to do... Once my name is called in a depersonalized fashion 'MSSSSUSS. SMMMMITH!' (no real name used here of course) you force me to attempt a skilled exercise for which I am not physically designed to do properly - the whole pee in a thimble mess. After the initial denuding of my dignity, I am STABBED in the finger, made to stand on the ENEMY known as the "scales" and if THAT isn't enough, you stick me in a refrigerated room with nothing but a tissue to cover up with and only "Oprah" magazines to read for God knows how long.... THEN you come in here and SMASH what's left of the bags formerly known as breasts after nursing two wonderful children, and if that wasn't enough....,
YOU SCRAPE MY VAGINA WITH A TOOTHPICK!!!!!
....and have the nerve to ASK ME WHY I AM IN A BAD MOOD????"
Awkward Silence.
Needless to say, I got an extra bag of samples today >o)
Monday, November 13, 2006
The "Is it just me??" Moment of the Week!!! (communication is everything!)
I was in Subway (sandwich shop) the other day; I'm thankful for this Subway because it is within walking distance of work and a blessed redemption from our company canteen...but I digress...
There was a very sweet and timid young lady passing out forms in the back of the restaurant - every time a patron would pass by, she would offer up the form and each time she would smile and before she could even explain her action, she would be met with brusque rejection. Each time a glimmer of frustration would pass over her expression and she would just plop back down in her chair; but she recovered resiliently with each occurrence of failure to get the customer to take the form.
Now, being the observer I am, I watched this for awhile. I also surveyed the premises for some sort of explanation of this situation.
BINGO.
After chatting briefly with her about her intended mission, I accepted one of her survey forms.
I then pointed out to her the very LARGE "Help Wanted Immediately" sign posted on neon yellow posterboard in the front window.
;o)
There was a very sweet and timid young lady passing out forms in the back of the restaurant - every time a patron would pass by, she would offer up the form and each time she would smile and before she could even explain her action, she would be met with brusque rejection. Each time a glimmer of frustration would pass over her expression and she would just plop back down in her chair; but she recovered resiliently with each occurrence of failure to get the customer to take the form.
Now, being the observer I am, I watched this for awhile. I also surveyed the premises for some sort of explanation of this situation.
BINGO.
After chatting briefly with her about her intended mission, I accepted one of her survey forms.
I then pointed out to her the very LARGE "Help Wanted Immediately" sign posted on neon yellow posterboard in the front window.
;o)
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