Fingernails (not on a chalkboard)

I was getting a bit more ticked off than was strictly necessary about not hearing back about yet another job application, and I laughed when I realized my ire was fingernail-related, which is somewhat unexpected and out of character for me. I am not a girly-girl.

Usually, I keep my nails cut very short. That way, there's less chance of snagging and chipping and breaking in the wild world of retail. Also, I can't really file them or make them look pretty because of my wrist problems. (I feel that I should add that even if I didn't have wrist problems, I think I still wouldn't do anything with them.)

When I have interviews or concerts, I let my nails grow out to a more professional-looking length. The interviews were supposed to be scheduled two weeks ago. This means my nails were ridiculously long (for me). This was irksome.

I have decided that I am unlikely to get this job. I am too much of a coward to email the person in charge to find out. I cut my nails. I am strangely happier. Maybe this means I'll get a call about an interview tomorrow. :) I'll keep my fingers with their short fingernails crossed.

Going gray gracefully

Do you ever wonder if the amount of gray/white/silver hair you have is normal? I sure do. Mostly I wonder because everyone my age who has any seems to dye their hair. Even my older sister dyes hers (unconfirmed accusation). I have no idea when she started.

My hair started going back in college, but my mom said it was a genetic gift from her mom. I think she said her mom's hair was all white by the time she turned 30. I was kind of looking forward to that because my excessively oily skin makes my face look younger, and white hair with that face would have been startling. It didn't happen, and I'm okay with that.

I can only think of one person I know who let her hair go gray without hiding it. How sad is that? Dye is so expensive I could never afford it, but even if I could, I'm too cheap to spend money on it. (And then agonize about when my face looks old enough that I need to get my hair dyed gray or risk looking really creepy . . .)

Why do you suppose people get so panicky about gray hair? Are you panicky about it?

How do you feel about going gray naturally? Are you planning on doing it?

P.S. Tonight's moon is a lovely silver Cheshire cat smirk.

Why I'm glad I don't drive a tall car

When my parents visited me last spring, they saw deer every day they came to visit me. I am glad my car is tiny and low to the ground because I think the deer wouldn't seem nearly as magical if I saw them every day.

Things not to tell your mom, part 3

A predatory sex offender has moved into my building (or the one next door). Oh, joy. But don't worry, it appears that he prefers to prey on junior high school boys, so I'm safe; though I'm worried about the junior high half a mile up the road.

Keep me (and the kids) in your prayers . . .

Why I love my father

He calls me to say
he's in the car
driving and listening
to a CD, and it reminded him

of the time years ago
when I moved away
to graduate school.
He tells me the album.

"Wow, what an album! We
listened to it when
we were driving through
Wisconsin. Anyway,

it made me think of you,
so I called to say hi
and I love you."

Why I shouldn't read business books

I was skimming through some business books about how to improve employee morale, and it was kind of depressing. There were so many easy-to-implement, common-sense ways to improve morale. The most important thing, they all said, is clear communication.

Clear communication is what I've been fighting for in our store for the last several years, and it's the last thing my boss wants to do. Momentarily, I wondered if this is because she's self-conscious about her poor grammar (and the fact that she knows we notice it). That can't be why, though, because she writes and distributes long, confusing, unhelpful memos frequently.

Man, I sound a tad bitter, don't I?

The main problem with our situation is that all the books I've looked at are about what management can do to improve morale, not what employees can do to improve morale when the boss is against it (by her actions).

Does anyone know of any resources for that type of situation (other than the zen-y ones that tell you to put a positive spin on the bad situations you can't control and can't stand)?

Am I passive-aggressive?

I have been accused of being passive-aggressive for writing letters to my bosses when there are specific issues I feel need to be addressed (and no one else will talk to management about them because they're smart enough to know management doesn't care).  I'm a little confused by the way this term is used.

From what I understand, a passive-aggressive response to, say, her terrible, are-you-seriously-a-college-graduate constant grammar/spelling/syntax errors would be to put a stack of hilarious and difficult to understand memos and emails on her chair with grammar and style comments marked in red and place a copy of "I Judge You When You Use Poor Grammar" on top of the pile.

I consider writing an essay with bullet points and formatting designed to clearly communicate problems and proposed solutions to be a form of properly documented alternative conflict resolution.  (Except that it never works because getting any kind of response in writing is impossible, thus making the whole exercise pointless.)

Am I really being passive aggressive?  Is the only correct way to air grievances (especially to an illogical, combative, defensive, incompetent boss) to have a conversation that escalates into a shouting match that could get me fired?  If it is, I'd rather be passive aggressive and have all those letters formally on file for my defense should the time come.

In your opinion, where is the line for passive-aggressive behavior?

The best exit

If
I had not misjudged
the location
of the flashing lights,
if
I had not chosen
this wrong exit
for my impromptu detour,
I
would not have seen
this moon
monstrously misshapen
grotesque eerie orange
a celestial cheddar souffle
just above the horizon
failing to rise
perfectly.

If I had not chosen
this wrong exit,
I would not have seen
this moon.

Winter Prayer of Contentment

God may not have given me
the job I need to pay off
my bills or good health

or freedom from pain or
any of the important
things I want (but

have never been promised
by God in the first place), but
He did give me

a perfect twilight
four deer in the yard
across the street

no traffic
so I could sit
in the middle

of the road and stare
at the deer
staring at me,

and He never promised
me that, either, but
sometimes, like today,

it's more than enough.

Revenge of the virus

I was trying to drown and bore to death whatever virus I picked up, and my plan is not working.  In fact, I think the virus is out for revenge.  I have been coughing so hard and so long for the past ten days that I somehow managed to pull the muscles on the left side of my neck.  Is that even possible?!

Yes, apparently, it is.  Grar.  I'm taking this virus to the doctor next week if it doesn't clear up.  It's already cost me a solo (the last one I might get to do in the little cathedral we sing at every semester), and I don't even know if I'll be able to do the concert, since the beauty of the stone and stained glass doesn't match the ugly and distracting sound of me coughing with such hopeless abandon every three minutes. 

I would like to at least make it through the concert.  They need my A flat in the lovely chant piece "we're" doing . . .


On the upside, one of the jerk bosses at work feels pretty sorry for me in my helpless misery, so he's been a lot less annoying lately.  See, there is indeed a silver lining.

Sparrow tree

On my way home, sometimes I pass this tree that looks like one of those round sparkly fireworks that explode with long streamers in all directions. 

It looks like a candied apple on a stick with chopped peanuts, although the peanuts are actually adrenalin junkie sparrows who gather there and wait for my car to pass so they can explode into planned random motion in a mad dash to reach some previously agreed on point on the other side of the street that always requires them to fly directly in front of my car. 

It's a good wake-up call if I am feeling tired, let me tell you . . .

Do you remember cassette tapes?

Remember them?  I sill have some.  And a tape recorder to play them on.  Some of those albums still aren't available on CD.  Someone really needs to go out there and get all those orphan albums and make them available online legally, so I can get rid of these cassette tapes and stop worrying about the music gods demanding my beloved ones as sacrifices . . .

Here's John Scalzi, waxing nostalgic about all old technology and other relics of the past that he won't miss at all.

"Cassette tapes wore out even more quickly, their sonic reproduction was even worse, and they would get randomly eaten by your Walkman as a sacrifice to the music gods, and it was always your beloved music, not that Poison cassette your great aunt got you because she knows as much about your musical tastes as she knows anything else about you. I would have gladly sacrificed Look What the Cat Dragged In to the music gods, in their mercy. But it didn’t work that way. It never works that way."

I really don't miss people smoking everywhere. :X

Are there any other no-longer-common things you are glad to see gone?

Are you safe?

God calls us to abundant lives, not safe lives.  I wonder if we think about what that means enough.  Here's a great video clip that illustrates how we live most of the time.

Yep, that about says it.  Your thoughts?

Ugly church art

We were part of a big service at a gorgeous neo-Gothic church, and I spent much of the service while we were not singing contemplating an absolutely hideous four-sided monstrosity of a tapestry hanging directly beneath the bell tower and blocking out too much of the light from the copious stained glass windows.

The church itself was beautiful.  It had a devoted art gallery and lots of lovely (and less-than-lovely) art works in different forms on walls and in alcoves throughout its labyrinthine corridors.  So why was there such a tacky, ineffably ugly, and more than a little incomprehensible piece in the heart of the church sanctuary destroying the beauty all around it?

The world may never know.

How's the state of the art in your church?

I'll take snice any day

We were supposed to get More Snow, but instead, it appeared that a legion of tiny snow fairies descended on the area and frosted everything with a thin coating of snice.  The sun was mostly hidden behind thin, smudgy clouds, and when it broke through, for a few seconds, the beauty made me want the world to stop.

I wanted to skip work to take pictures of ice and fairy-frosted trees all around town, but I am too responsible.  Sigh.

How listening to John Tavener is like faith

Sometimes it's hard to listen to John Tavener's music.  He likes dissonance.  It hurts, especially when you're listening to a piece at orchestra volume.  You have to resist the temptation to turn it down to avoid hearing the brokenness, the grating ugliness that scrapes your ears raw.

If you're going to be able to leave the volume where it should be, you have to believe that Tavener's music is going somewhere so beautiful that all the pain will be for something.  If you hear the ugliness that loudly, the beauty is like sudden relief from suffering, like sweet cessation of pain, like the joy of something inexpressible welling up inside you.

Anyway, you must have faith that the pain is worth it, or you'll miss the fullness of the beauty. 

Deer on the brain and other hazards of being too literal

I saw a billboard late one night on my way home, but since I've had deer on the brain, I sort of misinterpreted the text on the sign, which talks about a "bare-knuckled bucket of does," and my brain just sort of stuttered and stopped as I tried really hard (it was past my bed time) to figure out if deer or buckets even have knuckles and what a bucket of female deer would even try to possibly mean. 

Needless to say, I have no idea what product was being advertised.

It's past time for bed now, too.

Mailboxes and terror (also, deer)

How long has it been since I saw that nice young buck on the side of the road?  When am I going to stop jumping at every mailbox covered in new snow (thus taking on an unexpected shape that sets my panic about deer alert off)?  There are still months of new snow to come.  This could get tiresome . . .  :)

Handel handling us . . .

We are singing some Handel in choir.  Technically. 

Honestly?  Handel is kicking our heinies (pardon my faux-German).  12/8?  With dotted notes?  You have got to be kidding me. 

Since we are, essentially, an amateur choir, it might be a bit much to imagine we can learn this (and several other pieces) in time for a dual concert with the orchestra in five weeks, especially since YouTube and all the library systems let me down with their selections from Judas Maccabeus.  There isn't a single recording in any of the surrounding library systems.  Even on YouTube there are no recordings of two of the more wickedly hard choruses we have to learn.   

Makes me want to learn 'em even more.  Now I just have to figure out how.

Any tips or tricks for those who can't really play piano with that many accidentals in the key signature in that time signature with that many dotted notes?

When I don't sleep

When I don't sleep, I hurt more.  I'm not talking about how, without rest, the body can't repair itself, etc.  I'm talking about how the physical act of not resting, of not ceasing motion, can lead to actual injury and discomfort. 

• I do bad things to my neck. 
• My right shoulder separates (an older injury).
• I wrench the muscles over my ribs.
• Etc. :(

Along with not sleeping, I seem to beat myself up in some irritatingly unconscious (while I'm conscious) bout of self-flagellation.  And I am just too tired to get up and turn on a light and read, even though I know it's what I should do, and there are so many books I want to read right here in my room.  Whine, whine, winge winge, whine.

Sigh.  I'd say I feel better now, but it's been over a week since I even got my "normal" amount of sleep (2-4 hours). 

Don't worry: MacGyver's still keeping me company as I write and research jobs and clean and hurt.  Hair's much better this season.  He just got betrayed by another girl.  You'd think he'd learn.  Sigh.

Tonight's snow

Tonight's snow is tiny, sparkly, fairy dust snow (TM), which seems appropriate since, when I checked this morning, it was supposed to herald the next predicted Snowpocalypse of 2010, which will, in theory, be hitting us much less hard than it hit the East Coast, my dear goodness.

Pretty sparkly snow . . .

MacGyver and Government Work

I finally finished up my application for the one government job I qualify for (no typing WPM requirement).  Sigh.  At least I did so to a great soundtrack: MacGyver, season two.  MacGyver used to work for the government.  See?  It's connected.

Really, I'd already answered all the questions and just had to fill in the blanks online.

When I borrowed MacGyver from my parents, my sister warned me that it wasn't as good as I remembered it.  I told her I wasn't going to give it 100% of my attention, anyway.  If I had my back to it, I figured I wouldn't have to see the mullet as much. 

I did enjoy listening to it.  I got laughs from some clunky dialogue and funny lines, and I enjoyed the let's-use-a-fire-extinguisher-(or paper clip or pen or pocket lint, etc.)-to-stop-or-fix whatever.

Did you watch MacGyver when it was on TV?  What did you think of it then?  Have you seen it more recently?  What do you think of it now?

Something my tax software told me

"School is cool." 

Seriously.  I guess they didn't have anything to put there.  It made my tax day.

Just an inch of snow

Today, we got an inch of snow or so, and it caused all sorts of problems.  A long, hard freeze and a more recent slight thaw followed by another hard freeze left a layer of ice.  Spread over that an inch of that dry, flat, fake-looking snow that sparkles like flakes of plastic and quartz, and you've got zero traction.  As many people unfortunately discovered on the roads and sidewalks and parking lots.  Yeck.

It's a good thing this kind of snow is so pretty.  Otherwise, it would be an unmitigated disaster. 

Aside from brilliantly reflecting light, so I know my headlights are, in fact, on, do you know of any good uses for this kind of snow? 

The Sorrows of Young Buck

A young buck nearly scared the bejeebers out of me on my way home today.  I flipped on my turn signal, checked behind me, switched into the right turn lane, slowed down, slowed down more . . .

And that is a young male deer standing RIGHT on the side of the road so close I could roll down my window and pet him, and he is chewing something desultorily and watching traffic, like any bored jaywalker, and I am terrified that he's just going to start crossing the street and no one will see him because there are never deer HERE, and it's so dark, and even though it's not really safe at all, I am looking in my rear view mirror and sending telepathic messages to the deer to turn back and go home . . .

Good thing his telepathic receiver was on because he turned around and shuffled away.  I spent the rest of my drive watching out for him on the side of the road because I was afraid he would jump out from there to punish me for ruining his fun, but that didn't happen.  Phew.

Also, the moon tonight was impossibly big and beautiful.  Yesterday was supposed to be the day, but full+1 today was just gorgeous and brilliant, big, wide, and parchment-colored.  I would have looked at it more, but I was  watching out for that deer.

A perfect quote about the moon

The moon illusion

Finally, be sure to get out and see the full moon as it rises, right around sunset. Along the horizon, the moon tends to seem even bigger. This is just an illusion.

You can prove to yourself that this is an illusion. Taking a small object such as a pencil eraser, hold it at arm's length, and compare its size to that of the moon just as it rises. Then repeat the experiment later in the night and you'll see that the moon compares the same in both cases. Alternately, snap two photos of the moon, with a digital camera or your cell phone, when the moon is near the horizon and later when it's higher in the sky. Pull both photos up on your computer screen and make a side-by-side comparison.

Astronomers and psychologists agree the moon illusion is just that, but they don't agree on how to explain it.

Squares of sunlight

When I was flying away from my home to visit my parents, I was impressed by how cool all the snow looked from above. Then I neared other parts of the Midwest, and it was all sullen, boring brown from the air (where I could see through the clouds). From the ground, it wasn't much better.

Where I grew up, it's table-top flat, and the lack of any colors other than browns and grays--combined with temps hovering around freezing and a heavy cloud-cover--made looking outside a depressing endeavor. Good thing we had all the blinds drawn against the cold.

I had been looking forward to covering myself with a blanket and lying on the carpet in squares of sunlight all over my parents' house, which has more than one window (!). I actually found myself longing for the high, bright, pointless sunshine of my new home area further north.

When I came back home, I got my wish. It was sunny (above the clouds)! Then I landed, and it was, according to one temperature readout, + 0, and I wondered again if all the sunlight was worth it.

Today, when I finally found a place in my apartment (third floor game room) where--for a couple of hours on a totally clear day--there are squares of sunlight on the carpeted floor, I decided that I can handle adding another layer to walk outside if I can bask like that in January.

If you had to choose, would you want the sun and perma-snow and ridiculous cold and windows, or would you want the additional warmth and a perpetually overcast sky?

Return of the Sloth

I've been away for a bit of a vacation at my parents' house in another midwestern state where I did my best impression of a sloth for five days. I left the house twice (and saw a deer one of those times) and interacted with exactly one non-family member (okay, three if you include two phone calls about a group I organize). It was lovely. So lovely. Kind of. Well, that aspect of it was lovely. And it was desperately (Do I mean definitely?) inspirational for numerous reasons, both positive and negative, that I may surely explicate in the future when my inner sloth starts moving again. Any time now . . .

Ear-ache buddies, birthdays, family

I'm visiting my parents this week. It's warmer here and less snowy. Tonight, I am promised an ice storm. I hope it's delivered because I love the sound of ice raining down and coating everything, and I love the way everything is transformed into glazed jewelry by a really good ice storm.

My older sister, brother-in-law, and newly minted two-year-old nephew are coming tomorrow, though, so for their sakes I hope things aren't bad. The nephew is very mobile now, like a tiny, short-haired explosion. His recently acquired knowledge of how to smile for cameras (and his huge head and lack of hair) makes him strongly resemble Julius the Monkey, but I am not supposed to tell his parents that.

We're ear-ache buddies. I might have an ear infection right now, but I think he's currently free of that affliction for once. His ear tubes are doing their jobs, so he can hear now and is a hilarious chatterbox. I'm sure someone will bring up the biting incident from his preschool, so I can hear him mispronounce "bit" as "bitch." Adults are so easily entertained.

I'm seriously considering my own doctor's advice to get tubes put in my ears again before my next airplane ride. I'm a thirty-year-old woman, but I guess you never really outgrow a head that's too small. Alas. If you could somehow average my nephew's head and mine, we would both be normal-sized, and our ears would be better for it.

How's your January going so far?

Government email is spam

If you ever send the U.S. federal government an email, be sure to check your spam folder regularly for the reply.  Yahoo assumes your email from the federal government is spam.  I guess that's not the government's fault, but sheesh.

Why is the government so behind the times when it comes to email?  So much time is wasted sending documents and requests back and forth through the mail (and having them always mysteriously disappear if they're not sent in a traceable format), and it's nearly impossible to access information you need in anything approaching a timely fashion. 

In my more cynical moments, I think the government thrives on this inefficiency and even uses it to its advantage.  It's quite easy for all the delays to hurt citizens while the government crunches on, rolling over us without a care in the world.  It certainly has for my little ongoing OWCP drama . . .

Sometimes I wonder how much more efficient our government would be if it joined this new-fangled internet revolution.  I've even imagined what would happen if Google took over communication duties for the government.  What a silly dreamer, I am, imagining a world where I could immediately access my SF-50 and enter three simple pieces of information into my application for another government job.

Of course, I'm ignoring the whole national security issue, here.  I guess I just don't think any bad people care about my pay band from my '02-'03 job.  I figure Google should be able to do at least as well as my banks, which seem to be keeping more important information private, but I'm really ignorant about security issues. 

Sigh.  Dream wildly on, self, about efficiency.  It's never gotten along very well with bureaucracy.  :)

second-hand sunlight

Is there any value in second-hand sunlight?  All sorts of research indicates that people in the cold northlands get depressed in the winter because they don't get enough sunlight, which helps the body produce some vitamin or chemical that can cause depression in its absence. 

I'm deficient in that particular vitamin.  Since my body and immune system are a tad screwed up due to years without proper sleep, I figure every moment in the sun could help.  It is pretty darned cold outside, so I thought I'd find somewhere to bask in the sun in the name of health.  My apartment's south-facing window is useless due to the south extension of the apartment building that blocks off the sun most of the time. 

I've taken to trying to sit for a while in the sun that comes through the windows in the pool room.  I felt very proud of my healthiness for a while.  Now I've been wondering if sun filtered through windows will make your body do its magic or if only direct sunlight will do.

Do you know if there's any physical benefit to second-hand sunlight?

Birthdays, owls, kestrels

A friend recently had his 60th birthday at a nature center, which was a great idea because it gave the kids things to do and places to run around even in January.  Through sliding glass doors, I watched chipmunks and squirrels and hyperactive birds feed at the come hither station (complete with heated water hole that never freezes, even when it's 19 below). 

There were three live birds on display.  One was the most sullen, antisocial owl I had ever seen, a wad of irked fluff standing as far from the window as was possible with the tether.  Owl eyes are incredibly creepy, especially when they're radiating unfriendly vibes.  I found this amusing: reason the owl was on display: because it was unable to survive in the wild since it had been raised by humans, preferably really antisocial humans instead of abusive humans.  Maybe it was just in a bad mood.


My favorite was the red kestrel.

American kestrels are
beautiful more beautiful
when not gnawing on
recently living things
but still beautiful
even when they will
never fly (improperly
healed right wing
fracture) still
beautiful beak bloody

Chemicals your parents won't mind you enjoying

I recently talked to my parents about a job application after exercising, and I think it's the first time that's happened. (The talking after exercising, not the talking or the job application or the exercising. Glad I could clear that up.)

They thought I'd had coffee, which struck me as funny. I can't drink coffee because

• caffeine has the opposite medicinal effect on me (it makes me tired, gives me headaches, and makes my jaw lock up a bit).
• it tastes of motor oil (so there's no way I'd drink decaf).

Good old endorphins are wonderful. They make you feel chipper and cheerful and tired and pleased.

Exercise: the wonder drug that's strong enough to make your 18th hour working on a government job application tolerable.

Do you have any endorphin-induced funny stories? Or stories about conversations with your parents that were unintentionally funny?

Peanuts and fortune cookies: two quotes to brighten your day

"If you pay in peanuts, you'll get monkeys." - anonymous

"The man who does more than he is paid for will soon be paid for more than he does." - a fortune cookie fortune

Dear Fortune Cookie Wisdom Dispenser,

Please define "soon."  Also, is it because I am not a man that this does not apply?  I would like for there to be a reason. Ook, ook.

Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,
a retail employee

Things not to say to retail employees during the holidays, part 2

Please do not cheerfully call a retail establishment to ask, since you've heard it's going out of business, if there are any final sales.  And if you are a rude enough vulture as to do so, please do not accuse the employee of lying when she tells you that she hasn't been told anything about going out of business and that there are thus no going-out-of-business sales.

Again, I know that if you are reading this blog, you would never do this, but someone did, and it made me sad.  If you know this person or others of her ilk, shun them, please. 

:)

Humorous hats of winter

Trucks are manly vehicles, right?  Tough and strong, etc., etc.  Real men park their trucks outside in the winter.  This means that when a particular kind of snow falls and is followed by a thaw and a hard freeze, the manly trucks end up wearing comical snow hats as they muscle past me on the highway.  I like this.

Other fun things that end up wearing hats:

• picnic tables
• trash cans
• vans
• light poles

What are your favorite things that wear hats in winter?

Household pests

My household pests have been annoying me lately.  Maybe it's because I keep my apartment cold, but they just don't flee in terror the way I think they should.  There's no running and hiding from the thunderous sound of my huge footsteps, no terrified flight as my shadow looms over them.  They just sort of sit there and stare with what I imagine are vacant little buggy expressions, saying, "Durrrrrrr," in their little buggy language. 

Are they too cold to fire on all cylinders?  Would it kill them to ACT scared and give me a little gratification by scurrying away so I don't have to look at them and try to actively avoid stepping on them because they aren't running away like good, sane little bugs ought to do?

Maybe they know I'm highly unlikely to kill them.  Maybe they're lounging around like street punks, confident and brazen, insulting me and my weakness against things with too many legs that stain the carpet when I kill them. 

I hate it when the carpet gets nasty because then I have to keep track of what spots are off-limits, and when you only have 385 square feet (- all the bookshelves, cabinetry, love seat, tables, etc.) to sit on, this can become annoying quickly.  So I let them run rampant, and they act as if they own the place.  Sheesh.

Any suggestions?

Things not to say to retail employees during the holidays

"It's a shame your store is closing.  It's been all over the news."

Someone said this to me while we were woefully understaffed and had a line that was unconscionably long.  She smiled like a predator, and I did not throw anything at her or burst into tears.

I did not say, "We are aware that we will be the last to know.  This is why we are searching for other jobs.  This is why our turnover rate is ruinous.  This is why we are stressed (one of the reasons anyway), why our smiles are so tight and fake-looking, and we don't need any maliciously cheerful reminders that our jobs hang by a slowly fraying thread, you big jerk of a harassing bully.  Happy holidays, ma'am."

This is a public service message just in case you are tempted to say anything that assinine this coming year if the economy is still unwell.  But I know that no one who reads this blog would ever be that rude.  :)  Thank you for that.

If you've ever worked sales or retail, what ridiculous things have you had to put up with customers saying (and/or what's the best line you never said)?

2010 Day One: a list of beautiful things so far

• an ambush of sparrows from the Firecracker Tree
• the Poetry Garden full of trees dripping dramatic red berries
• the moon hard and blue and far away one day past full -9 F
  
• Relient K's MMHMM

What's on your list?

What Christmas music makes you merry?

What were some of your favorite Christmas recordings this year?  New and classics accepted. :)

Rain, ice, hazards of same

We had that ridiculously warm Christmas, which led to lots of stuff melting, which disappointed my cranky self as I stewed in my too-hot apartment.  I forgot the added bonus of melting before a hard freeze: icicles everywhere!  Snow falling off roofs and refreezing haphazardly and absurdly!

And crappy, terrible, awful, hazardous roads.  And no white, snowy Christmas.  Bah-humbug indeed.  :) 

Since we won't get a full thaw again until April, we'll have this dratted ice lurking under everything for the next few months.  Boo.

At least we technically had a white Christmas, even if if was more dingy grey than perfect blue like last year.  I also appreciated the lovely white Christmas Eve, which led to some poetry . . .

Is there any kind of weather that leads to poetry for you?

The Ghost Moon Strikes Back

Wow!  A sunny day today meant that I could see the ghost moon clearly at 3:30 pm, and it was fantastic!  If only I could have basked in the sun instead of being at work.  Well, at least I got in a few minutes during the white-knuckle car ride home.  Lovely sunshine taunting you during bitter cold snaps: what a frustrating tease.  :)

Have you seen a "ghost moon" recently?  Do you like them, or do you think they're creepy?

Personal Boycotts

A few months ago, I started shopping at a certain store that was on my way home because I realized that their regular prices were cheaper than the sale prices at the other two stores on my way home.  As December descended upon us, I was reminded by the silence at the entryways that this particular store does not let Salvation Army bell ringers on their property.

When this store originally made their decision against the Salvation Army a few years or so ago, I was pretty ticked off, but since I never shopped there, what did my response matter?  Now that I do shop there most of the time, I found myself contemplating my anger and what I should do about it. 

Part of my miffedness was somewhat childish, I suppose.  I was used to hearing the bell-ringers.  They were a cheerful, regular part of the holidays for me.  I saved change all year to give them.  Going shopping in December and not being reminded of this easy way I could help people in need just seemed different, kind of wrong, like something was missing.

I could have just used this reminder to go online and give, but I remember being a bell-ringer during a particularly bitter winter.  I remember how grateful I was when people dropped in their pennies.  (I think I can still hear that bell reverberating in my head.)  Bell-ringers work in less-than comfortable conditions to make sure that other people can be more comfortable.  I guess I just want to reward that effort.

So I did my own private, personal boycott of that store, and I think maybe I will write them a brief letter (not condemning but) explaining why I chose to take (more of) my money elsewhere this month.  I figure it can't hurt.

Have you ever quietly voted with your dollars like this?  Why or why not?

Home for the Holidays

Well, unfortunately, the predicted snowpocalypse missed us.  It got too warm, I guess, which is why I am sitting in my apartment in shorts and a t-shirt, sweltering.  In anticipation of Snowmageddon, the apartment staff cranked up the thermostat in the lobby directly below me before leaving to spend the holidays elsewhere. 

It's sleeting/snowing/raining outside, so I can't open my window, and it's night, so I have to have a light on to be able to write, and this makes things even warmer.

I just can't bring myself to turn the AC on during Christmas this far north in the Northern hemisphere.  There are some lines I just can't cross.

Don't worry.  I'm staying hydrated as I sweat and listen to Christmas carols.

I'm thinking of leaving the Christmas tree lights on again tonight since they didn't burn the place down last night (hooray, LED lights), and it was comforting to see them while I was doing my usual not-sleeping routine.  It's not every day you can turn over for the 57th time and see lovely blurry twinkling lights that are also still awake on Christmas Eve.  I'm sure lots of kids thinking about presents were on vigil with us, too.

Hope you had as great a Christmas as I did.  Aside from the excess heat, it was nice.  I was happy not to be working in RetailHades, not to have to talk to anyone (I made an exception for my family), not to have to think about looming economic crises for one day.

It was very nice to see my fully assembled Christmas tree, to get some exercise, to watch the snow, to read a bit, write a bit, think about poetry, eat soup, take a few pictures, listen to music, and actually relax for real.

Tomorrow, I'll get back to job applications, credit wrangling, cleaning, laundry, software installation, submitting for publication, and worry.  Today I wanted to be at peace, and I'm glad to say that things pretty much worked out that way, thanks be to God.

How did you spend your holidays this year?

Let it snow!

The snowpocalypse has begun!  I'm hunkered into my cave and ready to hibernate for a bit as the snow falls down so beautifully I don't even mind if I haven't seen the moon in days.  Bring on the white Christmas!

At my RetailEstablishment, we have all sorts of doodads and stocking stuffers near the registers, including bookmarks.  Someone asked one of the employees how they worked.  Seriously.  The employee had to explain how bookmarks work.  Where do these people crawl out from under this time of year?

Be nice to your retail employees around the holidays.  It's crazy and hellish for them, and they just want to help you and keep their jobs.  :)

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas Radio

Ah, Christmas on the radio.  I might enjoy it even more if I didn't keep hearing the same song.  I mean, I know there is a finite number of recordings of Christmas songs, but there is no excuse for me hearing the exact same recording of the exact same song by the exact same group 3 times in one 24 hour period.  Seriously.

There are a go-jillion Christmas songs to choose from!  Here is my advice to people programming radio computers:

Thou shalt not play the same artist in two songs in a row.
Thou shalt not play the same song more than once a day.
Thou shalt not play the same Christmas carol by two different artists in the same hour.

Do you have any suggestions or revisions to add that might make Christmas radio more merry (and less wearing)?

Christmas Cards 2009

A while ago, I decided that this year I would write out my Christmas cards on Christmas Day.  It seems to me that Christmas is the day I most want to be thinking about and praying for my loved ones, and I'd like to think that mailing them the next day will mean that my friends get an extra surprise and the knowledge that I really was thinking of them on Christmas Day. :)

Any thoughts about this idea?

Matchless

So I found out I had an apartment inspection coming up around the same time I discovered that my what-a-deal-impossibly-sale-priced oranges were a tad moldy.  Fortunately, this occasion coincided with my employee discount days at my RetailEstablishment, and I was able to find a scented candle set that didn't smell terrible or make my asthma and allergies kick up.  I brought it home, wrestled off the plastic packaging, and realized I had no matches.

. . .

Ever had one of those situations where you didn't quite think things through?

Cleaning Monster Attacks

I'm going to do it today: I'll find some place to ditch all my OWCP nightmare stuff and rearrange, so that my desk is a more comfortable place.

That was my goal for the day, and I refused to stop until it was done.  Unfortunately, this meant I totally forgot to go see a free coffee shop performance by two people I was dying to hear.  Sigh.  I win and lose!

So much space!  So much less heat!  The freedom of organization is so intoxicating!  I'm on a rampage.  Next, I want to get my coffee table cleaned/organized.  I wonder if my overhead shelves will collapse under the weight of all those thesis drafts . . .  Let's find out; shall we?

Is there anything in your house or office you really want to get cleaned?

How to keep your Christmas tree ornaments in one piece

When my parents came to visit in May, they thought it amusing that I still had my Christmas tree up.  I really meant to take it down; I just never quite got around to actually doing so.  It's still up.  Decorating for Christmas this year was a snap.

To defend my decision to leave it up year round from this time forth, I would like to point out that leaving your tree up year round when you are a calm, quiet person who lives alone is a great way to make sure your ornaments don't get damaged.  Dusty, maybe, but at least no favorite sparkly bit gets crushed in the packing and unpacking rituals.  You can also be sure the tree is exactly the way you want it (and exactly the way you remember it from last year).  So there.  :)

I will have to redo it this year, unfortunately, because the uber-cheap lights I bought ate batteries like they were going out of production and then just stopped working altogether.  I also have some nice tiny turquoise ornaments to add this year.  See?  I'm not totally lazy.






How do you decorate for the Christmas season?  And how early is too early for outside displays, in your opinion?

Confidence

"Confidence.  It's not something you keep just for yourself."
- Musashi #9 Vol. 16

I have lost all confidence in myself.  It didn't happen all at once.  It's been gradually wearing away like my energy and memory and ability to focus.  Its loss, like theirs, can be traced back to that injury working for the federal government in 2002.  I lost hope in the government and justice.  I started struggling more and more in school and at work, and I now feel mostly useless, crippled, and incompetent.

It's not a great time to be trying to find other jobs.  I can't sell myself because I feel like no buyer would want such damaged goods.  How can I, in good conscience, try to convince someone to hire me when I wouldn't hire me?  I admit I would get some degree of satisfaction if I managed to obtain another government job (this one without any of the significant physical hazards of the last one), but that desire to be petty hasn't been enough to motivate me to finish a lengthy government resume.

Oddly enough, I started feeling more optimistic about my chances as I was looking through a book about how to make a great government resume.  Focus on what you actually do at work; match it up to skills mentioned in the job announcement and questions (in one case, all 83 of them).  Research the agency to find out what the job really involves, and find keywords.  Use principles of graphic design to format a text resume that is easily readable, scanable, and usefully written.  It helps that the only job I am not too crippled for is fairly entry level, so much so that my grades in college could potentially get me hired at a higher pay band even with no practical knoweldge/experience. 

Yeah, so that last bit's unlikely, but it's possible on paper, and  I have been too chummy with impossible lately. 

When my parents, who feel helpless, even though they are doing way too much to help me already, talk to me, I stress the impossible to them because it's what I know.  Don't expect me to be able to do what I could ten years ago; I'm too broken to do those things now.  I am a different, lesser person, crippled in more than just body.  I hate this state of being even more than they do, and my face is rubbed in it every minute I am awake (and there are far too many of those minutes a day, which is part of the problem). 

So much is impossible for me that it's been a while since I've even bumped into the positive possible.  I've stopped looking for it, even.  It would take a miracle to save things now, and a miracle may not be what God is planning for me.  Maybe even more quietly epic failure is His plan for me, and, honestly, I had a great run there for 21 years, so who am I to complain?

Anyway, this past Tuesday, when I got past being sarcastic about all the skills and experience I lack and my crappy retail job and my incompetent boss who is now actively trying to fire me since we have yet another new store manager (my incompetent boss is trying to use the confusion of his ascendence in this time of holiday hell to her advantage to fire me without any oversight) and my discouragement over all the skills I polished in college and never got to use, I realized that completing this resume could be more of a writing and style exercise, like something I did in technical communication classes back in the day. 

I used to be good at learning a lot through negative examples.  Why couldn't I spin things at my current job in a more positive light now?  (Because I'm out of practice, is the simple answer.)  But the light was there, and I could see that maybe the tunnel had edges, a long way away.

Today I was exercising on a stair machine on my day off.  As usual, I was reading a book (Musashi #9 volume 16, which came out 19 months after volume 15).  As I had suspected, a particular character died, and after that story finally wrapped up, there was a short side story told from the point of view of a girl who was really unhappy with her personality and who wanted to change.  She encountered #9 and came to the realization I quoted at the beginning of this piece, so you'd realize the end was going to be uplifting.

"Confidence.  It's not something you keep just for yourself."

Oh.

I know I've been hurting my parents and concerned friends with my lack of confidence.  It made me feel guilty and a little irritated.  Why should my problems affect them?  And what was I supposed to make them feel better?  It was my problem in the first place, and I can't fix it, not as broken as I am.  I hate disappointing my parents, previous witnesses to most of my triumphs, bewildered long-distance spectators of my slow destruction and descent.  A recent phone call reminded me of this fact.

This quote and my pursuit of this job were kind of like a heartening, non-physical kick in the pants.  Maybe I'm too tired to fake confidence for myself, but I think I need to for my parents and other concerned people their age around me who are worried about me.

And maybe, just maybe, this time I'll be able to fake it first and long enough that it will grow to fill in the space I've left for it.  A person can dream, right?

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Subaru

Something I have loved this Christmas season: Cars, trucks, and vans sporting antlers on the front windows and a red nose on the grill/fender.  It makes me laugh every time.  :)

Something I have not loved this Christmas season: Vapid Christmas carol lyrics that are ridiculous and stupid.

My un-favorite at the moment is from "Here Comes Santa Claus."  It comes right after the part where it talks about how Santa doesn't care if we have broken our toys and how he loves us anyway.  "Santa knows that we're God's children," Mr. Sinatra sings, "that makes everything right."  It is probably not Mr. Sinatra's fault that these lyrics exist, but it is his fault for singing them. 

I would just like to ask Mr. Sinatra how a fair, just anthropomorphic personification who keeps a list of naughty and nice kids and gives lumps of coal to the naughty ones and presents to the nice can be the same one Mr. Sinatra is describing, a watered down being who forgives all and doesn't care how we treat each other. 

I know, I know.  The song is really just to reinforce the lie of Santa Claus when small children ask why Johnny-the-evil-bully-next-door gets a jillion presents every Christmas even though he tortures squirrels and the neighborhood children, but that's not a lie I ever believed or intend to reinforce.  Ba-humbug.

I guess some of my irritation is misdirected here from my frustration that even Christian parents lie to their kids about Santa and wonder why their kids are easily confused in their thinking about Jesus the same way (Jesus is love, so He doesn't really punish bad and reward good) (?!). 

As a tangent, kids tend to love those stories where good defeats/punishes evil; they recognize something inherently right and just about that dynamic.  Just saying.


Anyway, do you have any "favorite" vapid Christmas song lyrics (or whole songs) you'd like to share?

How can I keep from singing

I'm starting to wonder if I should voluntarily quite my choir next semester.  I just don't think I can do it anymore.  After that last concert, I don't know if I trust myself not to screw it up for everyone.

Not that they probably noticed the number of times I screwed up, even if I did.

To be fair, most of the problem stemmed from work.  I had requested the day of the concert off as I have every year for the past 7 years, and my request was approved, but we have a new manager now, and he keeps scheduling me when I can't work, but I can't ask to get out early, or I'll end up with even fewer hours and not be able to pay my rent, and you can probably see where this is going.

I should have just told him, taken my day off as I planned, had a great concert, and let him deal with the scheduling problems, but my job's hanging by a thread due to the machinations of another manager who is trying to get me fired, so I just couldn't risk it.  I woke up ridiculously early and worked, tried to relax and focus for several hours, and then tried to sing a full concert after already being awake and functioning for nearly 11 hours.  It didn't work.  I'm just not capable of something like that anymore. 

I missed words, missed cut-offs, misjudged my voice's breaking point.  My timing was off ever so slightly, pretty frequently.   I didn't blend well; I was too loud.  I couldn't see the director.  I kept getting distracted.

We had some stunningly lovely moments; don't get me wrong.  People I had invited told me it was lovely.  Most people probably didn't notice any of my mistakes (except one really obvious one, which they probably don't remember because it was early in the concert).  I don't even think the director noticed most of my flubs.  But I did.  (Did I ever.)

I can't guarantee that next semester will be better.  My focus is getting worse every year; my ability to concentrate is laughable and likely won't be getting any better without a miraculous healing.  There is no way to guarantee that I won't totally screw up the spring concert in obvious and embarrassing ways. 

It's selfish of me to want to sing in it anyway, selfish to even be willing to think about singing in another concert I could ruin just because there are those moments of indescribable beauty you earn when you make impossibly beautiful music with a group of people you've worked with for a time.  My weakness is swallowing up even the small beauties I have left. 

I am a desperately selfish person.  Or maybe I just know how diminished I am when I am without music, as I was in college for three years.  That is, I suppose, just more selfishness.  If the director told me not to come back, I wouldn't come back.  That's how bad I feel about my mistakes in this last concert.  But I still want to be in the next one, if I can.


Is there anything you're that selfish about?  Something you enjoy doing so much that you don't care how bad at it you are or how much trouble you make for others when you do it?

The Current Snowpocolypse

AHHHH!  It's here!  The snowpocolypse!

It started out so innocently, like fine flour sifting down.  From the second floor, I could barely see it.  But even that dry, dusty, tiny snow powder adds up if it falls long enough.  Now the wind is kicking up, and it will get much worse.

On the positive side, all that embarrassed, Styrofoam-wannabe-snow that's been hanging around since the last dusting is finally covered.  It's been too cold for it to melt, so it just sat there frosting the grass and piling up miserably in corners and cracks in the parking lots and blowing around sulkily.  Now it is the foundation for a fine, slick, freezing, miserable winter.  :)

I think I'm going to get up early tomorrow.  Traffic will be challenging, I suspect.  You'd think that since we all live in this state, people would know how to drive in snow, but you would be so, so wrong. 


How do you prepare for snow in your neck of the woods?

Why you shouldn't listen to pop Christmas songs on the radio before your classical Christmas performance

Because you remember the wrong words.  Ugh. 

(Also, it can make you a little teary, which can make you a bit congested before your concert.)

I particularly enjoy when the words of Christmas songs are altered for slightly dumb reasons, such as the line in "The Little Drummer Boy" being changed to "where ox and lamb are feeding."  I recently heard a version of "Silent Night" where a choir swells in wordless splendor, so you can't hear Mr. Sinatra say "virgin."  That one was great.

If you want a great Christmas song, check out "Adoration" by the Newsboys.  Powerful and thought-provoking, especially the repetitions of certain phrases.  Very well done.


Have you heard any examples of dumb Christmas song word changes recently?

Confident Ignorance

I used to pride myself in knowing the right answers.  Then I discovered it was difficult to do so when there are no right answers or when you can't actually figure out the right questions.  It's a good thing I was a bit more mature and flexible by the time I started getting smashed by these truths.

Now, I'm all about asking the questions, especially when I don't know the answers.  I am very comfortable with admitting my ignorance.  I prefer that kind of honesty.  I wouldn't want to lead people astray simply because I don't want to be seen as ignorant, even though as a very finite being, I know I am.  I prefer to question honesty rather than to fight and die for a position about which I am not completely certain.

So I was intrigued by the following quote:

“A theory that is wrong is considered preferable to admitting our ignorance.”
– Elliot Vallenstein, Ph.D.

The author was talking about the prevailing position in medical research/science (and was challenging it, I think).

Any thoughts?  Do you think this idea is beneficial in the area of medical research?  Could any progress be made if the prevailing position was one of open questioning?

Practicing for Failure

Why is it that I don't get better at failing, even with all the practice I've had?  Should I even want to?  I'm pretty sure that being good at failure is not something I should be striving for, but it's the only thing I've had a lot of practice in lately, so I should be great at it.

My small group music fell through.  I could blame it on unprofessional singers, but it was more a matter of priorities, or maybe high expectations.  True, we're not professionals, but if you commit to doing something, especially something as complex as an a cappella musical piece, then I darn well expect you to follow through.  I don't care if you're not a professional, if you're a college student, or if you can't play piano.  I just care if you do what you say you'll do.  I expect that you will.  I am . . . disappointed.

It's partly my fault for choosing the group members I did, but I really think I chose people who had the ability to get things done.  I tried to strike that balance (I thought I was getting better at) between pressuring enough to make them work hard but not so much that they quit.  Should I have turned into Captain Blood?  I don't know if that would have helped.

There were things I could have done differently, such as dropping that easy song the second time it went so badly because some of them just didn't want to learn it, or dropping both in favor of the one tune we all knew from an earlier concert and could have done with the Christmas words . . .

I think the trick is that even if you fail a lot, you have to keep trying or you'll lose.  Something.  Your forward momentum?  The game?  I don't know.  I blame Miles for his bad influence by insisting on playing the game and winning with the hand dealt.  I should pause and consider what he lost, I suppose. 

Sounds like it's time for another read-through.  Maybe I'll stick with the later ones.  I always did like the summary for Memory in the chronology for the Vorkosigan books: "Miles hits thirty.  Thirty hits back."  In theory, Miles was far more breakable than me.

There will still be plenty of beauty in this Christmas concert without my special pieces, and I can go sing from the balcony tomorrow before rehearsal.

The cost of re-alphabetizing

Silly me; I forgot what happens when I re-alphabetize my books.  Pain.  Wow.  It's kind of stunning.  Day two of no sleep.  Hmm.  Not good. 

Still worth it?  I guess, so long as I don't get sick again. 

Our concert is coming up in a little over a week.  My small group may not pull it together in time, which makes me sad, but we have a couple of days to try to make it work, so I haven't given up yet!  Onward . . .

Why I hope the Ultimate Dinosaur exists

There was no snow when I woke up.  :(  Why do I even bother to believe the meteorologists anyway?  I know they're only right about 2% of the time, but I still get excited when they promise snow.

One of my former-co-workers, who constantly lit up my life while we worked together because he had the strangest sense of humor and loved to say inappropriate, weird, off-the-wall-and-sometimes-apparently-from-another-universe things, used to talk about how when he would take over the world with his Ultimate Dinosaur, his first victims would be career politicians and meteorologists because of how useless they both were.

I like my snow to fall on days I don't have to drive in it (such as Thanksgiving), so I hope it doesn't come tomorrow.  I don't want to fight crazy traffic on the way to and from work on "Black Friday," and I especially don't want to fight crazy traffic driving on snow.  I like going to work at 5:30 because there's usually no traffic since what store in its right mind would open at, say, 3 am?  (I mean, besides the one right next to mine.)  I hope there's room in the parking lot for the employees . . .

Happy Thanksgiving!  May you survive the upcoming "Holiday Season" with style and grace!

Just a tad too wet

A few days ago we had this day that almost didn't seem like fall.  It was damp, and I couldn't taste that dry, dusty bite that I think of as what proper autumn air should taste like.  That thought made me laugh.

That night, it was hazy, and unless you knew where to look for the moon (almost directly south, it seems), I'm sure you wouldn't have seen that faint fingernail of light shining through the haze.  I'm glad I saw it.

Thanksgiving for the blessed

At work yesterday, someone said something wonderful to me.  He knows I've been having trouble with a particular manager who is doing her best to get me fired, and he said that if I needed a witness, he would speak up on my behalf.  I nearly cried; it was that touching.  He knew that they might not even care what he said, and he knew it might get him in trouble, but he said he thought it would be a real shame if I got fired. 

As Willy Wonka said, "So shines a good deed . . ."  Since things have been so bad lately, it really meant a lot to me, and it reminded me of the importance of telling the people important to you how you value them.  (Just in time for Thanksgiving!) 

I think this year I'll give Thanksgiving cards to the people at work who make working there a positive experience, and I hope it encourages them to appreciate the people who make their lives brighter.


Do you have anything you do for Thanksgiving to show people you're thankful for them?

A family visit

Yesterday night was really beautiful because the sky was oddly dark, making the fingernail-edge moon startlingly bright, like a yellowed diamond or the edge of the light hanging over the table in the darkened restaurant where I went to eat an early birthday dinner with my older sister, her husband, and their adorably cranky 22-month-old son who were visiting.

His parents are incredibly good with him; what a team.  They kept him occupied enough to consume a meal, although they finished before I did, probably a necessary skill for parents.  At the end of the meal, he was having a great time reaching out to send that light swinging, and we shared ornery grins when I held it just out of his reach.  He is definitely in possession of my family's genes, as he is ornery, has bad ear drainage, and isn't quite sure about this hugging thing.  Also, he loves books.

I didn't really think it was a good idea to visit my 385-square-foot apartment because if there is a dictionary entry for childproof, my apartment is listed in the antonym section.  He seemed pretty hesitant about entering it, and his comment when I turned the light on was "books," which is a pretty accurate description of my home.  He may not be able to manage my name, but if he calls me Books, we'll get along just fine.

The poor kid wanted to run around, and he just couldn't, what with three adults on the floor, so he contented himself with knocking over a few piles, picking up some things he wasn't supposed to, and taking the lids off a few things.  He was always basically within arms reach, so nothing got broken, and he only pulled one book off a shelf above his head.  He met my visible stuffed animals (the ones lined up on top of my TV) and seemed really stumped by the dragon, though he knew dinosaurs when his parents pulled out the sparkly s-t-i-c-k-e-r-s they use as a secret weapon to get his attention. 

We read a few pages of a book, but it was past his bed time, and he hadn't slept well, and it's been more than a decade since I read to a really young kid.  His dad had the book mostly memorized.  We took some pictures in the lobby, and then they left, and I remembered to say thank you and good-bye, but I forgot to tell them to be sure to look at the moon.  They were heading in that direction anyway, so I'm sure they saw it.

Thirsty for Logic

The VP of X at my RetailEstablishment's corporate office has decided that a reason sales are down this year is because the store employees have a drinking problem.  Yes, because we are drinking water and juice and coffee and such, people aren't buying our goods.  Obviously.  Therefore, no employees are allowed to have liquid with them on the sales floor. 

I'm sure he made this decision sitting in his office sipping coffee.


Customers are allowed to keep drinks with them even though they do spill all over books, furniture, and each other frequently.  Just saying.


The war on employee hydration at my RetailEstablishment started a while ago when they decided that giving the employees stale, expired coffee beans from the cafe was costing them money because they could charge us for coffee instead.  You read that correctly.  Then we were told that we had to keep our drinks out of sight because it was unprofessional to drink.  Now we're told we can't drink except on our lunch breaks. 

Keep in mind that our job is to talk to people.  For hours at a time.  Every day.

"It's like every day, there's something more to make it harder to want to come to work," a coworker said today.  Yeah, it's a tough retail climate, but why on earth would you take it out on the folks on the front line?

Hey, Mr. VP, do you know the meaning of the word "ludicrous"?  Please look it up.

I have asthma and allergies.  I'm also still sick right now, as are half the people in my city.  (Let's not even bring up how singers need to keep themselves well-hydrated.)  I can't go 4 hours without a drink of water (or 6, since sometimes we have that many hours before we have a break, and we can't really request our guaranteed 10 minute breaks because we don't have the staff, and even if we do, the management acts like we're a huge pain in the neck for asking and thinks of us as troublemakers). 

Let's be honest: I can't really go 2hours or even 1 hour without a drink without worsening my health and making it harder for me to do my job.  We're so short-staffed sometimes that even if I were having an asthma attack out on the sales floor, I couldn't go up and get a drink or my inhaler if I needed to.  If I went to get it anyway, I would likely be fired.

Now, I could understand this new policy if sales people were drinking vodka or cocktails out on the sales floor or spilling coffee all over themselves or the customers or the books, but this is not the case at my store, so I can't help but wonder what these corporate people are thinking.  Are drugs involved?  Beverages of questionable contents?  Mushrooms?

Today I had to call my doctor's office to ask him for a note saying that I need to have water with me.  The mind boggles.  I wonder what he'll think as he's writing it.  (X years of medical schools to write prescription for water?  You have got to be kidding me.)

I thought of a reason why they might be doing this.  You've heard of the need to be hungry for sales, right?  Well, maybe they want us to be thirsty for sales!  So thirsty that our throats get dry and we cough and hack and choke when we're trying to talk to people . . . 


Can you think of any "good" reasons (serious or funny) why anyone would create such a policy?  Do share.

Long-delayed responses

You know what's nice about someone not getting back to you about important email right away?  The joy you get when the response comes months (or years) later.  Ah, you think, they didn't ignore me; they were just busy or disorganized or whatever.

So don't throw away that old email out of guilt!  Respond to it, and give joy to the recipient!  (Unless it's no longer timely; then you should change the subject line and just say hi.)


Have you ever received a long-delayed response that brightened your week?

I wish I could sing

I am sick.  Fevers are kind of annoying.  How many times do I have to put on and take off the sweater/sweatshirt/blanket?  (12 or so, at least.  This hour.)  It's also that in-between seasons time of the year where outside temperatures and inside ones are at odds with each other, so the fever just intensifies that.  Also, coughing is gross.  And I can't sing!  That's the worst, even worse than the coughing and wheezing and breathing through a furry windpipe, etc.

Still sick

Being sick is unpleasant.  I always forget how awful my stomach feels when I get some sort of virus that involves a lot of coughing.  I'm sure it's a great workout for my abs, which is good because I don't foresee a lot of other exercise in my future, at least not until I can stop coughing every five seconds and breathing like Darth Vader . . .

I've always wondered at the contradiction: carbonated beverages are supposed to settle your stomach when you're ill.  Why is that?

Some things I did during my vacation

What I did on my vacation

• + Exercised 7 days in a row (about 18 volumes of manga, and it was glorious except for when those three obviously very under 16 brats barred from the sauna and exercise room without adult supervision were running in and out of the exercise room without adult supervision, opening the door to the sauna while turning up the heat, making it about a million degrees in the room I was trying to exercise in)
• - Didn't get any sleep on three separate nights (arms very awake, very awake)
  
• + took care of several piles
• - couldn't complete the most important piles (job applications, writing, researching) because my hands are just shot right now
• + caught up on several shows I've been waiting to watch (hands free!)
• - couldn't do much with my blogs (to prepare for rough holiday weather ahead)
  
• + had two concerts that went really well
• - got sick (thanks for coming to that concert sick, fellow choir member, and then coughing on me; I really appreciate it)
  
• + heard Brahm's Requiem for free . . .
• - . . . from the lobbey because I was coughing so hard it would have just been rude to try to stay in the auditorium
• + was able to avoid leaving my house for one whole day (ahhhhhhhh)
• - got my final "screw you" from Uncle Sam
• + didn't cry
  

Italian music, Italians, Latin

We had a mini-concert tonight, three pieces in a music department showcase they do every fall for Parents' Weekend on campus.  Our first song was in Italian, and I found myself thinking of a friend who is of Italian descent and has the ability to make any foreign language sound like Italian.  It's hilarious.  My favorite was his impression of The Count from Sesame Street, sounding like an Italian trying to sound (like an American trying to sound) Transylvanian or something.  You probably had to be there.  He makes incredible Italian food, too, and cheesecake, which is not exactly Italian, or is it?  Also, his wife makes the best chocolate bread pudding in the history of ever.

The concert went pretty darn well.  Wow.  That second song (in Latin) went much better than I thought it would from our rehearsals, but I think in a month when we have our Christmas concert, it could actually be breathtaking, like people in the audience might stop breathing during the pianissimo parts because they want to make sure they hear it all.  Then again, I think the chamber music concert hall we performed it in today may have actually been the best acoustic for it, so we'll see how it fares in the muddled reverb of a cathedral.  There weren't a ton of people at the concert, but those who were there will have a lovely memory of "Lux Aurumque".  Pretty. 

Excuse me while my eyes roll back in my head as I remember how lovely it was to be a part of that sound . . .


Ever had any fun with accents/other languages?

Trying out new toothpaste

When I came home from the event I volunteered at on Halloween, my hands were covered with paint.  I had a concert the next day (a really formal one), so I spent a lot of time washing my hands that night, which is why it's kind of funny that I didn't notice that my toothpaste had thrown up all over the sink.

I was trying out a new kind of the toothpaste I use.  The new kind comes in a cool, futuristic dispenser (I had a coupon).  It's worked fine for the last month, but now whenever I use it, I come back later and find that it has vomited up a truly appalling amount of paste onto the counter.  (Where is all this paste hiding?  It's not that big of a tube!)  I don't know why.  The dispenser doesn't seem like it's jammed on or anything.  It just sort of oozes up a pile of blue when I use it.  Back to the drawing board, folks.



Have you ever tried out a new product and gotten something other than what you thought you'd get?  Or found it doing something not advertised? 

The perils of paint

Today, I have learned that it is not smart to man the painting booth if you have a big, important formal concert with your choir the next day. 

I hope I am in the back row because it will not be impressive to be in the front row dressed all in black and holding a formal black folder with hands and arms speckled with red and green and blue (and black) paint.  Oops. :}


Have you ever done something like that because you just weren't thinking it through far enough?

Yet another one sails away

Well, that tears it.  My new friend at work had enough and left.  What a huge, stupid waste.  She was worth at least two of my incompetent sales manager.  There is very little justice in a world where I'm stuck with the stupid sales manager and have to lose a great co-worker because our management is . . .  Yeah, you've heard it before.  Sorry.

But I can't resist this great example of my sales manager's greatness.  Because of this sudden situation, I was asked to come in and work on my day off, and, because I desperately need the hours/money, I came in early in the morning after a late night leading a small group for church.  Then, that morning, I picked up another sick co-worker's shift for that night, but I could only work from 6-10 (so I could get some rest before coming in early the next morning for my next shift).  As I was leaving at 10:15, my sales manager got extremely snippy with me for having to leave before 10:30 .  Yes, she got mad at me after I came in and saved her bacon twice in the same day on my day off outside of my regular availability.  She is a real winner.

I'm looking for a new hopefully less crappy retail job along with my regular job hunting. 

Morale is just so shot right now at our store, and sales, which were up, are dropping.  It's sad because it doesn't have to be and shouldn't be this way.  I wish there were something I could do to make it better, but I really have tried everything I can.

I was thinking about good companies and how they value their employees.  Maybe I'm still kind of an idealist, but I thought companies wanted to hire good employees and use their strengths as individuals and team members to help the company prosper.  My RetailEstablishment never read these books, I guess.  They would rather try to force everyone into the same (bent) mold and break them. 

We're all breaking. 

It's rough to watch.  I have so much to give, and they don't want it.  It's . . . frustrating not to be able to use any of your skills, talents, personality, etc. in a way that helps people.  It's worse when you can't just quit, when you're too damaged already to be sure you'll ever be able to find another job.  Being so invested in one place used to make me sort of stubbornly determined to do my best to help things change for the better, but when you have resistance and an endless landslide of dumb policies coming from your district manager to your store and thus know that the "open-door" policy is a quick way to get fired, it just grinds you down.

At least I'm proud I've hung on for over 6 years.  :)  Find your sunshine where you can, I guess.


Do you have any suggestions for retail jobs that would be good for a cripple?

The weather outside is frightful

Today, it snowed that huge, gloppy, fake-looking styrofoam-snow-globe snow.  It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas . . .  Even if it's before Halloween. 

When I was walking to my car after work, the snow splutted onto my hood and coat with the exact same noise spit makes when someone spits on you.  (Yes, I speak from personal experience.)  I wonder if there'll be a blizzard on Halloween this year. 

My latest energy bill said it was 8 degrees colder this past month than it usually is.


So, how's your weather?  Outlandishly cold/warm?  Surprising?  Normal?

Enough sleepless nights . . .

I'm reading No More Sleepless Nights at the moment.  I'm trying to be fair by reading all the parts, even the ones that don't seem to apply to me as much.  I mean, it may be obvious that my insomnia is caused by chronic pain, but I think it's spiraled into some sort of vicious circle fueled by stress and emotional difficulties that come from dealing with chronic pain, the government, and unaccustomed helplessness.  It's interesting.

I'm not sure it's designed to deal with people who've been having trouble as long as I have, though.  I mean, by now my memory is so shot that when I sit down to write up the various details you're supposed to at the end of the day, I don't remember anything.   Maybe the more I try, the more I'll be able to remember specifics?  We'll see.

Regardless, there aren't any quick fixes.  I already don't drink, smoke, or ingest much caffeine.  Well, I do love a challenge.  At least, I used to . . .

Sweater Migration '09

Just finished the annual process of sweater migration.  It may seem a bit early to you, but I wish I'd been able to do it two weeks ago.  All my layers are resettled, heavier ones to the bottom of the cabinets where I can reach them more easily.  The thermometer will probably only go downhill from here. 

It rained today again, the dark, drizzly, low-slung-clouds-sulking rain, and it bothered me for a bit until I saw the leaves on the sidewalk and remembered that rain and cold October days are how leaf shadows are born.  I do love leaf shadows.  I'm willing to put up with a little rain for their sakes.


What do you love about early autumn?

spring in autumn

A couple of days ago, we had a lovely spring day, which was odd since it was October.  It's been a freakishly cold year (not that I'm complaining). 

It's weird to try to describe it, but you know how there will be those days in early spring where the temperature isn't that much warmer, but the sun is shining, and it's just been so stupidly cold for so long that even five degrees feels cheerfully warm in comparison?  It's also the way the wind smells/tastes . . .

Even if I can't describe it, I did enjoy it.  :)

The adventures of MR HAPPY FACE in Retail

I did threaten to post some of my lovely MR HAPPY FACE art.  Ta-daaaah!

Please, don't be the person on the right.  This person makes MR HAPPY FACE cry (on the inside).

Emo vs. Melodrama

What is the difference between being melodramatic and being "emo"?

Tire pressure and sinus pressure

I have discovered another way I am like my car: sometimes we don't do well when the weather changes. 

Last year when fall and winter fought, and the temperature dropped, a warning light burned bright in my car, and the same thing happened this time.  The pressure in my tires was off, so I went to a gas station and tried to fix it.  I learned several valuable lessons from this experience.

• There is a 75% chance that when I am unscrewing the air valve cap,  I will drop the air valve cap into the tire.
• It is easy to pop part of the hubcap cover off to retrieve the cap.
• It is easy to pop the hubcap cover back on if you know the trick (which does not involve kicking).  (I learned this one after cracking one hubcap cover with the help of a nice guy who was also at the gas station and noticed my cluelessness.  I hold him blameless.)
• You can't tell if any air is actually going into your tire; you just have to believe.
• Even if enough air goes in, you won't know until you drive your car for 15 minutes, according to the nice guy from the tire shop that was, in fact, still open.
• There are nice people who will let you into the tire shop (the nice guy at the gas station pointed you toward) even though it is 5 minutes until closing, and they will stop vacuuming and come outside to check your tire pressure and fill the tire that is still low even though the freezing cold wind is blowing.  And then they will not charge you because you are obviously too pathetic, and, for once, you won't mind.

About singing

"Singing well is one of the greatest pleasures a human being can experience."

- my choir director

Another reason I am a bit iffy about government involvement in health care

I have allergies.  Lots of allergies.  I am basically allergic to the environment and much of the animal kingdom. (I am, for example, very allergic to koalas.) 

I was increasingly miserable until Claritin D came along.  Then I was less miserable, though I was more tired (but NOT drowsy because Claritin does not make you drowsy).  I had fewer disastrous sinus infection-bronchitis-pneumonia episodes, and that was nice.

Then meth came along. 

I didn't even know what it was because I live under a rock, but all of a sudden, it was a huge hassle for me to get my Claritin D.  I had to sign stuff and go to the pharmacy twice a month, and I couldn't actually get the correct number of pills for a month (28-31) because the government in its infinite, apparently allergy-free wisdom decided that a known and documented allergy sufferer like me can only get 2.4 grams per month "over-the-counter." That is about 20 pills, which, if you didn't notice, is 10 too few on average.

I can get a prescription, but it has to be renewed every six months instead of every year, and it takes about 20 minutes for this complicated prescription to be filled at my pharmacy.

I still don't really know what meth is, except that it is a Very Bad Drug, but if you use is, I kind of dislike you, and if you make it, I hate you and wish you had to take on the allergies of all the people you've made miserable because of your illegal, destructive, stupid activities.  And the people who invented meth?  I hate you most in this situation; may double my allergies afflict you.

Anyway, back to the government.  They will, of course, claim that their 2.4 gram limit has lowered meth use or something, but that's probably not true.  People made stupid destructive drugs before and will continue to innovate new ways to hurt people for "recreation" in the future.  In this case, I feel like the government's illegal restriction just stupidly made people like me suffer needlessly.

Your government at work in health care: all politics and theories of government aside, it makes me a bit nervous for some reason . . .


Have you come across any ridiculous government regulation of health care related examples in your own journey?  Do share.

On to the next strategy . . .

I had fallen into a sort of cycle of pain, more of a spiral, like the one water makes as it's draining.  I'm trying to break it, so I'm doing things a little differently this time. 

I'm near the bottom of the cycle, so that means almost constant pain, but it usually results in my starting to favor my left arm even more, which results in more pain to my right arm and back, etc.  This time, I'm not babying the left arm.  I'm forcing it to remain on the steering wheel or the handle of the grocery cart when I would usually let it hang.

The result is not the miraculous one I was dreaming about.  I'm still in pain, and I'm still unconsciously favoring it (I can tell because the tendons in my right arm are outlined in fire, and I keep thinking someone's stabbing me in the back [wouldn't be a total shock at my RetailEstablishment]).

Maybe I'll treat it "normally" for another couple of days, but I'm not sure if I can.  Strike that idea from the list.


Anyone have any suggestions for strategies of how to outsmart my neurological problems?

Why I don't go to a chiropractor

Because it might work, and I might feel better.  And then I wouldn't be able to afford it.

Concert Prep

Concert tomorrow morning!  Yay!  We sing this concert in the little cathedral where we perform our Christmas concert in early December.  It has a really lovely acoustic that's perfect for the lighter voices of our young choir. 

I'm thinking about Christmas small group music, so I'm wondering, what are your favorite obscure Christmas carols that would sound stunning a cappella filling a little cathedral?

Thank you, God.

It's Homecoming Weekend, so some alumni got together at a local pub.  I hardly had a problem with the smell of alcohol at all; I didn't get anxious about being around it at all.  I talked and listened to stories without feeling like I was going to throw up.  Yay, me! 

When I got home, two young men dressed in suits were walking slowly through the parking lot, and I got a tad nervous.  I sped up, so I wouldn't cross their paths, and then so did they, which freaked me out completely, so I sped up more and did my special only-open-the-doors-enough-to-get-through-and-then-let-them-shut-and-lock move, hoping they were there to pick someone up and would have to wait to get in, giving me time to flee up to my apartment.

No such luck.  They sped up more but still had to reopen the door with their key cards.  I could tell they were suddenly in a worrisome hurry, and I started bracing for a confrontation.  I should have taken the stairs, no matter how much my feet hurt, but I knew I didn't want a chase up a stairwell, so I waited for the elevator.  I don't know if he was drunk or high, but one of the guys got way to close to me and started mashing the single elevator button, apparently so addled he didn't realize the reason the button stopped glowing was because the elevator had arrived.  I wondered if I should let them get on, pretend to tie my shoe, wait for the door to close, and sprint/limp up the stairs, hoping they weren't getting out on my floor.

Then a marvelous thing happened.  The other guy with Mr. Under-the-Influence (UtI) actually pulled Mr. UtI further away from me.  When the elevator opened, he sort of manhandled Mr. UtI into the elevator and effectively trapped him on the other side of the elevator until I got off and limped as quickly as possible to my apartment where I locked the door with great enthusiasm. 

It was like a sheepdog herding sheep. 

I never saw any of this directly because I was Not Making Eye Contact with all my might, but I was impressed by what I saw out of the corner of my eye.

To the guy who shielded me from his drunk friend tonight: my thanks.

To the bartender who mocked my my sadness that his bar did not serve hot chocolate or root beer: just saying.

The Benefits of a Master's Degree

Let it never be said that $50,000 of debt is worth nothing.  Today, I got $60 knocked off my car insurance for having a Master's Degree.


Any other perks you've encountered for graduate degree holders?

Yeah, the moon again

Tonight's moon is on
the other side of full,
a bit smooshed on
the upper right side,
like a rakishly collapsed
puff pastry.  The sky
isn't fully dark yet.  It's
that luminous velvet
blue, and the moon
seems so bright
it hurts my eyes.

flare-up

I hope not to have to post this too much, but I've been having trouble with my tendonitis and an illness affecting my voice at the same time.  This renders me unable to type or write & dictate my posts.  That explains the absence of posts, I hope.  I'm working on it and hope to have more posts ready ahead of time for whenever it happens again.

Apologies.

Driving East

Why is it that sometimes when I'm driving east toward home, the moon just seems to keep getting smaller and further away?

Farewell, fair co-workers; may you be going to a better place

Well, it's started.  Employees are leaving because of the stunningly stupid new policies at my RetailEstablishment.  I really wish I hadn't been right in calling that . . .  It would be nice to work a whole holiday season with well-trained, experienced co-workers.  We all have our impossible dreams.

Actually, on a more inquiring note, a co-worker and I were discussing the new focus on pushy sales tactics.  This particular employee is a born salesman.  He's very good at persuasion and sincerity.  (He's a high school speech and debate coach in his spare time.)  The way he sees it, if you go into a store, you should be prepared for the employees to sell at you.  I see a certain amount of merit in that idea.  However, there's a downside that goes unexpressed that says, "and if you aren't prepared for that don't come to our store."

But I thought we were desperate for business?  How is it good for business to harass a good percentage of your regular, paying customers out of the store?

Being both shy and independent, when I go into a store, I do so to find what I'm looking for and then leave.  I wish to do so in as much peace and quiet as I can because I do not like shopping, and I don't need the stress of added human interaction in the form of fending off sales people offering things I don't want or need.  I am a person on a mission, and if I need help with my mission, I want to be able to find assistance in a clearly designated spot.  That would be my ideal shopping experience. 

I am being asked to do unto others what would make me leave the store.  Wait, not asked, told to do so and told that I will be fired if I don't. I just don't get retail.  I guess someone somewhere is crunching numbers and deciding that the easily swayed yutzes who can be convinced to buy what we want them to are better for business that the steady, faithful customers who spend more money regularly to begin with.  As one of said steady, faithful customers, I feel a bit put out by this.  :)


If you enter a retail establishment, do you prefer someone to pounce on you as soon as you enter, asking you if you need help or suggesting something to you, or do you want to go in, look around, and find help somewhere if you need it?  I'm really curious because the split seems to be almost clearly down male-female lines on this issue, and I'm fascinated by that.

Driving in October

Well, it's October.  I am afraid to drive in October.  The last two years in a row, I've had a car accident in October.  I wish I could hibernate the whole month.  So if you can spare a prayer, please pray that I won't be involved in any more car accidents . . .