Anything At All.
All I know is that something is wrong. I believe we are a nation in a fair amount of turmoil. We've gone too far. We've become too dependent on the government solving our problems. We don't deal with conflicts amongst ourselves with any bit of fairness or maturity, and the gov is always there to step in and "mediate". Problem is, our gov is made up of people who are not impartial themselves, and who blatantly pursue their own betterment and interests right in front of us.
Today I heard the cashier at Wal-Mart telling the customer in front of me, who appeared to be of some aquaintance, that she only takes home about $200.00 every two weeks. I was appalled. We've all heard tales of how Wal-Mart employees depend on social programs to fill in the gaps, and make up for the low wages they are paid. No one in any city can live on that kind of money. We all know the trick of the trade in which employers hire only "part time" workers so that they can avoid paying out any sort of benefits like health insurance.
I realize some would say, "well, they can look for a better job, they don't have to work there..." and so on. Sure, I can see that I suppose. I know at one point I was so desperate for work I would have skipped with glee if I had a job at Wal-Mart. Here Wal-Mart can hire military wives, retirees, and so on and not have to worry about paying a living wage. Yes, I like the low prices at Wal-Mart, that's why I shop there, but I also can see that I can easily shop sales at other stores, stores which do actually pay their employees enough to live on, besides Wal-Mart's meat is disgusting, their produce is not all that great either, I generally have to go other places anyway.
Now I know I risk sounding like a liberal here, be that as it may, I can assure any that I'm far from it. I don't support pinko commie socialists at all. That doesn't mean that I think Corporations should be able to get over the way they do. There has to be a solution, one that doesn't necessarily involve turning to uncle sam, and regulating the hell out of businesses to the point that they would rather up and move to China then operate here. Besides, most of that regulation really hurts small businesses much more than rich corporations more than likely.
I don't give a flying rat carcass for the silver spoon fed rich. I honestly don't know how those people sleep at night. How does it feel to live so lavishly while one's employees feed from the public trough and live in poverty. I would be so embarrassed. Really.
Whenever talk of raising the minimum wage is raised, business owners are up in arms about how it will ruin their business and so on. Maybe so. I don't claim to know. But I ask myself, seriously, how many freakin' billions is enough for some of these people? Really! Sure, not every business owner is a multi millionaire. Some are just struggling folks who can't live with the idea of being pushed and prodded by human resources, and a plethora of managers anymore.
The bible speaks of this, the scripture has stuck with me, it goes something like this: It's easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter heaven. It's not that rich men are bad, or evil, but that I suppose people will do some rather ruthless and greedy things to become rich. Being rich is not what is really important. And not everyone who is rich is ruthless and greedy.
I guess it all boils down to what are we willing to pay for? As a society, it seems we place high dollar value on Hollywood actors, and professional sports players. It really doesn't take any amount of skill to empty a trash can I suppose, although, were there not people willing to do it, I would have to laugh to see some people trying. It does not take a whole lot of skill to stand at a cash register and scan items, push a few buttons and give out proper change, but it's not as easy as it might seem either. Try having a person who hasn't bathed in two days, who smoked a carton of cigarettes, drank a 5th of Jack, who is suffering from serious digestive problems breathing in your face and calling you an idiot for not working fast enough to suit them, it definitely takes a certain amount of determination not to tell that person to immediately go piss in a river.
Many times I have considered what my life would be like if I didn't have my husband, my partner, my rock to get through all of this with me. I chose carefully when it came to marriage. I'm afraid many people do not think ahead. I'm afraid many have been deluded into thinking that single parenthood was a viable option. Of course it can be done, it's not something I would recommend setting out to do on purpose. Sometimes there is no choice, many times hindsight would have been very helpful.
It is no accident that next year my husband and I will claim over $70,000.00 as our income. We made that happen. Perhaps it was just good luck, but we actively pursued our dreams or it wouldn't have happened otherwise. Two years ago we actually claimed just over $10,000 income. We've come a long way since then. That was a really really hard year for us. I honestly don't know how we did it.
We've made a series of choices that have led us to this point. My dad always says people get to where they are by a series of choices that they make. These are the choices we made. We chose to risk comfort for opportunity. We chose to sacrifice time together for advancement. We chose to be humble and ask for help, information and a shot. We choose to be drug free, he drinks a beer here and there, but for the most part we are alcohol free. We both choose to work in physically demanding jobs because they pay the best for the amount of education we have.
Before those choices were made, we chose each other. We each chose a stable partner, with a future. We chose to wait until we were married to have a child. We chose to drive crappy cars that stank because they were affordable. We've made some mistakes. Some real doozies. We've paid for them. We'll make more I'm sure.
I don't know where we'll be tomorrow. Perhaps things could happen to land us at the bottom of the pay scale, making nothing, hoping for something. It could happen. At least we'll have each other.
In my mind, I could still end up making 5.15/hour somewhere. Nothing is promised. I just can't imagine what sort of person would feel comfortable paying their employees a wage like that. They must know they can't barely live on that. I think I'll lay off Wal-Mart shopping for a while. I'm really disgusted with them. We'll see how long that lasts. Freaking Crack-Mart.
Monday, April 24, 2006
I Really Need To Do Something
Other Than Read Blogs.
It's my day off, and here I sit. Wasting time, sweet precious time. Time that could probably be better spent doing laundry, receiving a pedicure, or taking a shower. There are groceries to be bought, cat boxes to be cleaned, and all I want to do is sit here and read blogs. The idea of taking a nap has crossed my mind too many times to be ignored. I will be getting in the bed soon. The thought of it is something akin to what a crack addict must feel when anticipating his next fix. Cuddling up with 3 pillows and my thick silky comforter is pure heaven to me. Why does sleep have to feel so good?
My love of napping started in High School. I was compelled to come home and crash on my bed just about everyday after school. This started a vicious cycle of staying up late, getting up early and being chronically tired day in and day out, the only relief, and motivation was knowing that I would eventually take a nap, and the world would go bye bye for that precious hour. Those habits developed in my youth have carried over and affected my adult life, I still love a good nap.
As I've aged I've overcome the inability to go to bed early. I can no longer function on a few hours of sleep even if I know I can get through the day and take a nap later. When I was in my 20's I could still get by on a few hours of sleep. In my 30's I would not dream of torturing myself in such a manner. I specifically plan to get my 8 hours of sleep each night, I'd be useless to anyone without it. I generally do not take naps on days that I work, I reserve napping for my days off, when I can do so guilt free, and without messing up my night sleeping schedule. Although, as an adult, I don't really think there is such a thing as a guilt free nap. Not when there are so many things to be done.
I remember visiting my grandparents during the summer when I was a teen ager, and how my grandfather was appalled that I took a nap right in the middle of the day. He said, "I haven't taken naps since I was 2 years old, naps are for babies!" He was somewhat disgusted by the idea of a practically grown person taking a nap. I made sure that summer to wake him up every time I saw him nodding off in his recliner, I would get right up close to him and say, "are you asleep?" He would say "no, I'm just resting my eyes!" Ha! Got ya! He was taking naps, but since he didn't get in bed and go to sleep, he did not see falling asleep in his chair the same way.
There are times I've had to defend my nap taking addiction to others. People are so judgemental about it. Much like my grandfather was. I really can't help it. I wish I was one of those people who ran on energy reserves all the time, but I don't. I can literally fall asleep in a few short minutes at any given time. I've actually had people time me. My brother swears I suffer from some sort of narcolepsy. Others might just say I'm lazy. I've even thought maybe I am just lazy.
I do manage to make it through the day at work without a nap, that doesn't mean it doesn't cross my mind. It does. Just about everyday. I try not to let on to people that I am sleepy. They'll just think I'm lazy. I try to hide it all the time. I keep myself as busy as possible to get through the sleepy times. I hate the idea of someone thinking I'm lazy. I'm not lazy. I'm just freaking tired and want to sleep.
My secondary addiction is to caffeine, the anti nap. I have to have my coffee each morning. I drink about 2 cups. It carries me through the morning. After lunch is usually when I'm the sleepiest. I rarely drink coffee at lunch. I mostly only drink it in the morning. I do usually have a coke at lunch, the caffeine perks me up, and makes the afternoon tolerable. After that I'm fine, and can function the rest of the day. I'm still tired when I get home, and I could easily go to bed, but then I would not sleep that night. I stay up and try to get in bed at a reasonable hour.
Even though I have to fight the urge to sleep throughout the day, I would rather have it this way. I know people who take at least an hour to fall asleep at night. There is nothing more torturous than being tired and not being able to fall asleep, and knowing the clock is ticking away and that alarm will be going off soon. That just sucks.
I've been much more tired throughout the day since my car accident. I don't sleep as well at night, I wake up quite often with my neck stiff. I can't get comfortable as a result.
Last night Mr. Conner slept with me. He woke me up numerous times. He wanted to be petted, and cuddled. Everytime I moved he would wake up and meow at me over and over, purring in my ear and nudging me to pet him. He's been following me around since he came home. He slept on my head, cuddled up right next to my face, across my side, and in my space all night. I would wake up with his fur in my nose, and have to try to move him, which he did not take too kindly. Right now he is laying on my lap as I type this. Poor little guy. I get the feeling he is really glad to be home, warm and safe again. I'm glad he's back. He's got a real personality that one.
I think it's time for Mr. Conner and me to go take a nap.
It's my day off, and here I sit. Wasting time, sweet precious time. Time that could probably be better spent doing laundry, receiving a pedicure, or taking a shower. There are groceries to be bought, cat boxes to be cleaned, and all I want to do is sit here and read blogs. The idea of taking a nap has crossed my mind too many times to be ignored. I will be getting in the bed soon. The thought of it is something akin to what a crack addict must feel when anticipating his next fix. Cuddling up with 3 pillows and my thick silky comforter is pure heaven to me. Why does sleep have to feel so good?
My love of napping started in High School. I was compelled to come home and crash on my bed just about everyday after school. This started a vicious cycle of staying up late, getting up early and being chronically tired day in and day out, the only relief, and motivation was knowing that I would eventually take a nap, and the world would go bye bye for that precious hour. Those habits developed in my youth have carried over and affected my adult life, I still love a good nap.
As I've aged I've overcome the inability to go to bed early. I can no longer function on a few hours of sleep even if I know I can get through the day and take a nap later. When I was in my 20's I could still get by on a few hours of sleep. In my 30's I would not dream of torturing myself in such a manner. I specifically plan to get my 8 hours of sleep each night, I'd be useless to anyone without it. I generally do not take naps on days that I work, I reserve napping for my days off, when I can do so guilt free, and without messing up my night sleeping schedule. Although, as an adult, I don't really think there is such a thing as a guilt free nap. Not when there are so many things to be done.
I remember visiting my grandparents during the summer when I was a teen ager, and how my grandfather was appalled that I took a nap right in the middle of the day. He said, "I haven't taken naps since I was 2 years old, naps are for babies!" He was somewhat disgusted by the idea of a practically grown person taking a nap. I made sure that summer to wake him up every time I saw him nodding off in his recliner, I would get right up close to him and say, "are you asleep?" He would say "no, I'm just resting my eyes!" Ha! Got ya! He was taking naps, but since he didn't get in bed and go to sleep, he did not see falling asleep in his chair the same way.
There are times I've had to defend my nap taking addiction to others. People are so judgemental about it. Much like my grandfather was. I really can't help it. I wish I was one of those people who ran on energy reserves all the time, but I don't. I can literally fall asleep in a few short minutes at any given time. I've actually had people time me. My brother swears I suffer from some sort of narcolepsy. Others might just say I'm lazy. I've even thought maybe I am just lazy.
I do manage to make it through the day at work without a nap, that doesn't mean it doesn't cross my mind. It does. Just about everyday. I try not to let on to people that I am sleepy. They'll just think I'm lazy. I try to hide it all the time. I keep myself as busy as possible to get through the sleepy times. I hate the idea of someone thinking I'm lazy. I'm not lazy. I'm just freaking tired and want to sleep.
My secondary addiction is to caffeine, the anti nap. I have to have my coffee each morning. I drink about 2 cups. It carries me through the morning. After lunch is usually when I'm the sleepiest. I rarely drink coffee at lunch. I mostly only drink it in the morning. I do usually have a coke at lunch, the caffeine perks me up, and makes the afternoon tolerable. After that I'm fine, and can function the rest of the day. I'm still tired when I get home, and I could easily go to bed, but then I would not sleep that night. I stay up and try to get in bed at a reasonable hour.
Even though I have to fight the urge to sleep throughout the day, I would rather have it this way. I know people who take at least an hour to fall asleep at night. There is nothing more torturous than being tired and not being able to fall asleep, and knowing the clock is ticking away and that alarm will be going off soon. That just sucks.
I've been much more tired throughout the day since my car accident. I don't sleep as well at night, I wake up quite often with my neck stiff. I can't get comfortable as a result.
Last night Mr. Conner slept with me. He woke me up numerous times. He wanted to be petted, and cuddled. Everytime I moved he would wake up and meow at me over and over, purring in my ear and nudging me to pet him. He's been following me around since he came home. He slept on my head, cuddled up right next to my face, across my side, and in my space all night. I would wake up with his fur in my nose, and have to try to move him, which he did not take too kindly. Right now he is laying on my lap as I type this. Poor little guy. I get the feeling he is really glad to be home, warm and safe again. I'm glad he's back. He's got a real personality that one.
I think it's time for Mr. Conner and me to go take a nap.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Random Thoughts
As Usual.
Mr. Conner has been missing for almost 2 weeks. He made a break for it one night. We've worried about him. Tonight he returned home, he is skinny and stinky, but pretty much all right. He's eating and getting some luvin's here and there. I wiped him down with a warm wet wash cloth, he didn't seem to mind. He smells like motor oil, he's probably been hiding under people's cars. His little white paws aren't white any more, they're grey. He'll clean up eventually I suppose.
My brother, who is 8 years younger than me, confessed that when he was a little shit assed kid he thought it would be funny to hide under my bed and grab my feet when I got home. I would have been a teen ager then. He waited under the bed, and when I finally came in he had lost his nerve, and thought it wouldn't be nice to scare the crap out of me. He said he then had to wait until I went to sleep to sneak out because he knew if he came out it would scare me. And it would have, I've always been a huge chicken.
I got a little nervous as he told the story, I thought he might say I did something like made out with my boyfriend or something. He said I just came in and went to sleep. Whew.
Of course his little prank reminded my sister of the time that she and my best friend went in and tacked all of my underwear to the ceiling in my room. My sister was always the sneaky one, she acted so prissy, but she was always in trouble for something, and worse, she would get caught, and try to lie her way out of things. Good thing she's grown into a person of great moral character now, we were a bit worried at times. Haha, she'd be so mad if she read that, but she never reads my blog, so I think we're all right. She's a blond again now, so most of this will be over her head anyway.
My father climbed a 6 foot privacy fence to rescue Mr. Conner, he then climbed back over the fence with the cat. He's going to be 65 this year. They don't make them like that anymore. Dad was a hero. I thought about all the things my dad has endured, and survived, and all he has accomplished, and thought wow, he's tough. Of course, my mom was every bit a part of much of it. She's the one who put him through college. She's always supported him and cared for him. She used to send him packages when he was in Vietnam, she would pack them with popcorn. Real popcorn, which she no doubt cooked on the stove. She keeps him calm, and in line. He does anything she asks of him. She never lets him miss a meal, and packs his lunch everyday for work.
When they first married they were so poor at times they ate nothing but pancakes, with syrup made from scratch. I can't imagine. They have worked hard their whole lives and have never taken hand outs from anyone. My dad still works full-time. I don't know when he plans to retire. My parents pay way too much in taxes. It's a crime how much the government takes from them. My dad drives an old car ('79) back and forth to work. They could buy a new one, but think the one they have is just fine for now. It doesn't have high mileage on it, about 70,000. It sat in a barn for years, it was my grandmother's car.
Hubby comes home tomorrow. This week went fast. I'm glad he'll be home so we can cuddle a lot and fall all over each other. We usually do that the first couple of days, then we settle down a bit. I miss him a lot when he's gone, but honestly, we spend more quality time together now then we did when he was doing the 9-5 grind. People can't imagine how that could be, but it's so much easier when he has the whole week off. I try to time my days off with when he is here, so it works out pretty good.
Right now we are just taking things as they come. This is all so new to both of us. He's liking it all right, he wants to see how things can go for him in his new field. We've discussed the idea of the family moving up there. As it stands right now, he's driving 8 hours each way to get home and back to work. That's a really long drive for him after a long week. Plus it's a lot of miles on his car. The only problem is, I have a good job myself here. I'm pretty sure it would be difficult to replace. Sure what I do I could do there, but I'm not sure it would be so easy to transfer, and I love my job here, and my co-workers, and I make pretty decent money, we'd be giving up my income, and the flexibility that my job offers, which will be really hard to find again. I work part-time and I'm able to maintain things while he is away because of that.
He worries a lot about the wear and tear on his car, but with our combined incomes we could buy a new car every few years if we needed to. He really just has to get 5 years out of his. I will easily get 10 out of mine because I don't drive that much. If we moved up there, he still would not see us during his work week, but the kiddo and I would just be sitting up there all by ourselves. A lot of big decisions to be made indeed. We'll just have to wait and see.
Well, at least I didn't write about how tired I've been, and how everyday I've come home from work and proceeded to snore very loudly on the couch. Oops, I guess I just did. I will definitely spare the oh my gosh my allergies are going wild bit. But they are. It's awful. I'm so allergic to this state.
Ho hum. I'm off to bed. Maybe I'll have something important and interesting to talk about tomorrow. I can't imagine what would change, but who knows?
Mr. Conner has been missing for almost 2 weeks. He made a break for it one night. We've worried about him. Tonight he returned home, he is skinny and stinky, but pretty much all right. He's eating and getting some luvin's here and there. I wiped him down with a warm wet wash cloth, he didn't seem to mind. He smells like motor oil, he's probably been hiding under people's cars. His little white paws aren't white any more, they're grey. He'll clean up eventually I suppose.
My brother, who is 8 years younger than me, confessed that when he was a little shit assed kid he thought it would be funny to hide under my bed and grab my feet when I got home. I would have been a teen ager then. He waited under the bed, and when I finally came in he had lost his nerve, and thought it wouldn't be nice to scare the crap out of me. He said he then had to wait until I went to sleep to sneak out because he knew if he came out it would scare me. And it would have, I've always been a huge chicken.
I got a little nervous as he told the story, I thought he might say I did something like made out with my boyfriend or something. He said I just came in and went to sleep. Whew.
Of course his little prank reminded my sister of the time that she and my best friend went in and tacked all of my underwear to the ceiling in my room. My sister was always the sneaky one, she acted so prissy, but she was always in trouble for something, and worse, she would get caught, and try to lie her way out of things. Good thing she's grown into a person of great moral character now, we were a bit worried at times. Haha, she'd be so mad if she read that, but she never reads my blog, so I think we're all right. She's a blond again now, so most of this will be over her head anyway.
My father climbed a 6 foot privacy fence to rescue Mr. Conner, he then climbed back over the fence with the cat. He's going to be 65 this year. They don't make them like that anymore. Dad was a hero. I thought about all the things my dad has endured, and survived, and all he has accomplished, and thought wow, he's tough. Of course, my mom was every bit a part of much of it. She's the one who put him through college. She's always supported him and cared for him. She used to send him packages when he was in Vietnam, she would pack them with popcorn. Real popcorn, which she no doubt cooked on the stove. She keeps him calm, and in line. He does anything she asks of him. She never lets him miss a meal, and packs his lunch everyday for work.
When they first married they were so poor at times they ate nothing but pancakes, with syrup made from scratch. I can't imagine. They have worked hard their whole lives and have never taken hand outs from anyone. My dad still works full-time. I don't know when he plans to retire. My parents pay way too much in taxes. It's a crime how much the government takes from them. My dad drives an old car ('79) back and forth to work. They could buy a new one, but think the one they have is just fine for now. It doesn't have high mileage on it, about 70,000. It sat in a barn for years, it was my grandmother's car.
Hubby comes home tomorrow. This week went fast. I'm glad he'll be home so we can cuddle a lot and fall all over each other. We usually do that the first couple of days, then we settle down a bit. I miss him a lot when he's gone, but honestly, we spend more quality time together now then we did when he was doing the 9-5 grind. People can't imagine how that could be, but it's so much easier when he has the whole week off. I try to time my days off with when he is here, so it works out pretty good.
Right now we are just taking things as they come. This is all so new to both of us. He's liking it all right, he wants to see how things can go for him in his new field. We've discussed the idea of the family moving up there. As it stands right now, he's driving 8 hours each way to get home and back to work. That's a really long drive for him after a long week. Plus it's a lot of miles on his car. The only problem is, I have a good job myself here. I'm pretty sure it would be difficult to replace. Sure what I do I could do there, but I'm not sure it would be so easy to transfer, and I love my job here, and my co-workers, and I make pretty decent money, we'd be giving up my income, and the flexibility that my job offers, which will be really hard to find again. I work part-time and I'm able to maintain things while he is away because of that.
He worries a lot about the wear and tear on his car, but with our combined incomes we could buy a new car every few years if we needed to. He really just has to get 5 years out of his. I will easily get 10 out of mine because I don't drive that much. If we moved up there, he still would not see us during his work week, but the kiddo and I would just be sitting up there all by ourselves. A lot of big decisions to be made indeed. We'll just have to wait and see.
Well, at least I didn't write about how tired I've been, and how everyday I've come home from work and proceeded to snore very loudly on the couch. Oops, I guess I just did. I will definitely spare the oh my gosh my allergies are going wild bit. But they are. It's awful. I'm so allergic to this state.
Ho hum. I'm off to bed. Maybe I'll have something important and interesting to talk about tomorrow. I can't imagine what would change, but who knows?
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
I Had A Dream
Bird Whisperer.
I had a dream I was running down the street (that would only happen in dream world) and looking up happily at a blue bird flying about my head. I was following the bird, with my hand raised in the air trying to get the bird to land on my hand. It would swoop down and almost touch my hand, until finally it landed on my hand, and I kept running with the pretty blue bird saying, "I'm a bird whisperer! I'm a bird whisperer!" I woke up laughing. What a wacky dream.
I had a dream I was running down the street (that would only happen in dream world) and looking up happily at a blue bird flying about my head. I was following the bird, with my hand raised in the air trying to get the bird to land on my hand. It would swoop down and almost touch my hand, until finally it landed on my hand, and I kept running with the pretty blue bird saying, "I'm a bird whisperer! I'm a bird whisperer!" I woke up laughing. What a wacky dream.
Taking It To The Extreme
Meltdowns.
My father says it all the time, "these days, we take every position to the extreme!" I'm much inclined to agree with him. Perfect example, those who love to spout the "seperation of church and state" non-sense. Come on, librarians wearing crosses, Christmas trees in the town square, visible religious displays on any public property at all, government office clerks being ordered to remove festive decor from their desks, it's just plain ridiculous. Children in public schools no longer have Christmas programs or parties, no more Halloween, or Easter, all have been conveniently renamed to more appropriate secular celebrations like, Fall Harvest, and Winter Celebration.
People act like they are going to die from one whiff of second hand smoke. Now, I understand someone not wanting to smell cigarette smoke in public places, but at least allow businesses the freedom to provide smoking areas for their smoking guests if they choose. Smokers are people too.
Taxes are too high. The good ole gov takes over $1000.00/month just from my husband's paychecks, that does not include what is taken from mine, I don't know what they take, I've stopped looking, it just pisses me off. April 14th has become the great re-distribution of wealth day in this country. Our little family of 3 clings with all our might to middle class, fighting desperately to stay above poverty line. We make just enough, or too much that we pay quite a lot, but the money we're paying we need, but Uncle Sam doesn't think we need it, he thinks someone else needs it more. Has anyone noticed the price of housing?
My husband is busting his balls out there to get our family in better financial standing, but $1000/month of that goes to what? Not to our retirement that's for certain, not to buy a home, or a better education for our child who can barely read. No, it goes to some fat bitch collecting $600/month in food stamps, and waiting for tax time to get her "earned income credit" nevermind that it's someone else's earned income she's getting.
I have friends clinging desperately to middle class that do not have health insurance, but some ILLEGAL immigrant can go in and get immediate financial assistance and health services for FREE. Then, have the audacity to fly a fucking Mexican flag and demand rights at "protests".
Oh yes, let's legalize all of them. That's extreme. I work with a woman from the Ukraine who sends money home to her family suffering there, she's waiting 7 years in hopes that her son and his family can come here. How do you think she feels about illegal immigration?
Don't tell me Mexicans do jobs that Americans won't do. I do not believe that at all. And what happens if we give them amnesty, or legalize them or whatever the idiots in Congress have on the table today? Do you think they will still want the jobs no one else supposedly wants? Hell no. It took me over a year to find a job after hubby left the military. I'm terrified of being unemployed again ever.
Want a positive note here? I know how important it is to be positive. The only plus I see from the immigration boom is that is that they are not bad people, they value family, God, and seem for the most part just want to be left alone. They don't make bad neighbors, at least not from my experience. They share the same types of values give or take a few customs here and there. Mexican families we want, rogue roving bands of Mexican gangs we don't.
Do I have faith our gov will handle all of this well? Oh God no. They're going to screw it all up royally. Their careers will not be lost on this cause, and they will act accordingly.
The other day I watched an expose on Communist China, where a reporter was secretly documenting those living in tents where their homes used to be. Some of the families had lived in the same home for generations, but it was all being torn down so that high rise buildings could be built in their place. It's all for the greater good you see. Sort of reminded me of the land grabs taking place here in our own country thanks to the wisdom of the cronies on the Supreme court, and eminent domain. We're turning into a bunch of pinkos here. Those old bastards should all be fired. I could interpret the constitution better than that. Buh bye property rights.
So, here are the solutions I know of for these problems. Tell the sep of church and state crowd to go stuff a turkey with themselves. (won't happen) Forget about it if you are a smoker, there is no solution coming, prepare for the days that you will not receive health insurance, or be hired for a job if you smoke, I don't think that is too far off. Don't expect any of those heavy taxes on cigarettes to be a benefit to you at all either, I know they said it was to defray health costs associated with smoking, but they've spent the money on something else, and since you're a stupid smoker you don't deserve help anyway. At least it won't be you forever, I see the "we know better than you do" types agitating about fat peeps now. You'll be old news soon.
If you are a middle class type, hang on, help is not on the way. Resign yourself to that fact, and keep paying. Do the best you can with what they let you keep. Think small. And try not to get sick.
As to illegal immigration, about the best idea I've heard is, build a big ass fence. Then, make people wait in line like everybody else. This is not the early 1800's anymore. We've got upwards of 300 million folks here now. We will find somebody to prune our bushes, and clean the rich Hollywood liberal's mansions. Round 'em up and send 'em home. There are many other people in the world that might like a chance to gain citizenship here as well, they also come from downtrodden lands. We should be fair about this right? Wait in line like everybody else.
On eminent domain, I suggest we stop making policies that mimic communist models for a start.
Got any better ideas?
My father says it all the time, "these days, we take every position to the extreme!" I'm much inclined to agree with him. Perfect example, those who love to spout the "seperation of church and state" non-sense. Come on, librarians wearing crosses, Christmas trees in the town square, visible religious displays on any public property at all, government office clerks being ordered to remove festive decor from their desks, it's just plain ridiculous. Children in public schools no longer have Christmas programs or parties, no more Halloween, or Easter, all have been conveniently renamed to more appropriate secular celebrations like, Fall Harvest, and Winter Celebration.
People act like they are going to die from one whiff of second hand smoke. Now, I understand someone not wanting to smell cigarette smoke in public places, but at least allow businesses the freedom to provide smoking areas for their smoking guests if they choose. Smokers are people too.
Taxes are too high. The good ole gov takes over $1000.00/month just from my husband's paychecks, that does not include what is taken from mine, I don't know what they take, I've stopped looking, it just pisses me off. April 14th has become the great re-distribution of wealth day in this country. Our little family of 3 clings with all our might to middle class, fighting desperately to stay above poverty line. We make just enough, or too much that we pay quite a lot, but the money we're paying we need, but Uncle Sam doesn't think we need it, he thinks someone else needs it more. Has anyone noticed the price of housing?
My husband is busting his balls out there to get our family in better financial standing, but $1000/month of that goes to what? Not to our retirement that's for certain, not to buy a home, or a better education for our child who can barely read. No, it goes to some fat bitch collecting $600/month in food stamps, and waiting for tax time to get her "earned income credit" nevermind that it's someone else's earned income she's getting.
I have friends clinging desperately to middle class that do not have health insurance, but some ILLEGAL immigrant can go in and get immediate financial assistance and health services for FREE. Then, have the audacity to fly a fucking Mexican flag and demand rights at "protests".
Oh yes, let's legalize all of them. That's extreme. I work with a woman from the Ukraine who sends money home to her family suffering there, she's waiting 7 years in hopes that her son and his family can come here. How do you think she feels about illegal immigration?
Don't tell me Mexicans do jobs that Americans won't do. I do not believe that at all. And what happens if we give them amnesty, or legalize them or whatever the idiots in Congress have on the table today? Do you think they will still want the jobs no one else supposedly wants? Hell no. It took me over a year to find a job after hubby left the military. I'm terrified of being unemployed again ever.
Want a positive note here? I know how important it is to be positive. The only plus I see from the immigration boom is that is that they are not bad people, they value family, God, and seem for the most part just want to be left alone. They don't make bad neighbors, at least not from my experience. They share the same types of values give or take a few customs here and there. Mexican families we want, rogue roving bands of Mexican gangs we don't.
Do I have faith our gov will handle all of this well? Oh God no. They're going to screw it all up royally. Their careers will not be lost on this cause, and they will act accordingly.
The other day I watched an expose on Communist China, where a reporter was secretly documenting those living in tents where their homes used to be. Some of the families had lived in the same home for generations, but it was all being torn down so that high rise buildings could be built in their place. It's all for the greater good you see. Sort of reminded me of the land grabs taking place here in our own country thanks to the wisdom of the cronies on the Supreme court, and eminent domain. We're turning into a bunch of pinkos here. Those old bastards should all be fired. I could interpret the constitution better than that. Buh bye property rights.
So, here are the solutions I know of for these problems. Tell the sep of church and state crowd to go stuff a turkey with themselves. (won't happen) Forget about it if you are a smoker, there is no solution coming, prepare for the days that you will not receive health insurance, or be hired for a job if you smoke, I don't think that is too far off. Don't expect any of those heavy taxes on cigarettes to be a benefit to you at all either, I know they said it was to defray health costs associated with smoking, but they've spent the money on something else, and since you're a stupid smoker you don't deserve help anyway. At least it won't be you forever, I see the "we know better than you do" types agitating about fat peeps now. You'll be old news soon.
If you are a middle class type, hang on, help is not on the way. Resign yourself to that fact, and keep paying. Do the best you can with what they let you keep. Think small. And try not to get sick.
As to illegal immigration, about the best idea I've heard is, build a big ass fence. Then, make people wait in line like everybody else. This is not the early 1800's anymore. We've got upwards of 300 million folks here now. We will find somebody to prune our bushes, and clean the rich Hollywood liberal's mansions. Round 'em up and send 'em home. There are many other people in the world that might like a chance to gain citizenship here as well, they also come from downtrodden lands. We should be fair about this right? Wait in line like everybody else.
On eminent domain, I suggest we stop making policies that mimic communist models for a start.
Got any better ideas?
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
I Now See How It Works
Get This.
There are some who use the negativity thing as a weapon. I've finally seen it in action. The thing that I could not put my finger on that bothered me about all this be positive no matter what stuff has finally become clear to me. Let's face it, when working in close quarters, folks can get on each other's nerves, but being professionals, people must overcome petty differences and work together in a somewhat friendly manner, even if they would never be the sorts to go out after work and have a drink together. I can handle that, it goes back to what I was saying about treating each other with dignity and respect.
I'm still trying to understand just what exactly is expected of me as an employee. I see that in the group we have many different sorts, but we've all been instructed in no uncertain terms that as a group we are to avoid those of the negative bent. For the greater good and morale and all, and maybe even for the children, if we employed them, we have to keep our chins up, and have a happy demeanor.
Now with this new thing, whenever a co-worker says something negative, it is perfectly acceptable to shun them, throw your hands in the air and say, "I don't want this negativity!" It happened to me. I didn't realize that I was being offensively negative the other day, but it was pointed out to me by an obviously morally superior person. There we were on our lunch break, and I had the audacity to say, "I don't know that I really like that particular famous singer, he's sort of weird to me." Boy, had I let the cat out of the bag with that statement. Immediately, a co-worker who was sitting at the same table, said, "I'm getting away from this negativity!" And got up and moved to another table. I swear it happened.
Well, of course I was a bit surprised, but then I thought about it more. How passive aggressive can you get? I can see how this whole negativity thing can be used now. If you're feeling particularly pissy, and feel like taking it out on someone, it's perfectly acceptable to target anyone saying anything that could remotely be construed as negative, and proceed to embarrass them. How satisfying. How superior.
The co-worker did say after it was obvious that I did not find that action or statement the least bit entertaining that it was a joke. Haha, isn't that hilarious? I didn't think so. I've never taken too kindly to jokes like that. Oh and by the way, I was informed that this co-worker actually did like the singer I was referring to, a lot. I wanted to say, well, are you fucking related to him or something because you sure are taking a half hearted little comment very seriously. Whatever.
There you have it.
There are some who use the negativity thing as a weapon. I've finally seen it in action. The thing that I could not put my finger on that bothered me about all this be positive no matter what stuff has finally become clear to me. Let's face it, when working in close quarters, folks can get on each other's nerves, but being professionals, people must overcome petty differences and work together in a somewhat friendly manner, even if they would never be the sorts to go out after work and have a drink together. I can handle that, it goes back to what I was saying about treating each other with dignity and respect.
I'm still trying to understand just what exactly is expected of me as an employee. I see that in the group we have many different sorts, but we've all been instructed in no uncertain terms that as a group we are to avoid those of the negative bent. For the greater good and morale and all, and maybe even for the children, if we employed them, we have to keep our chins up, and have a happy demeanor.
Now with this new thing, whenever a co-worker says something negative, it is perfectly acceptable to shun them, throw your hands in the air and say, "I don't want this negativity!" It happened to me. I didn't realize that I was being offensively negative the other day, but it was pointed out to me by an obviously morally superior person. There we were on our lunch break, and I had the audacity to say, "I don't know that I really like that particular famous singer, he's sort of weird to me." Boy, had I let the cat out of the bag with that statement. Immediately, a co-worker who was sitting at the same table, said, "I'm getting away from this negativity!" And got up and moved to another table. I swear it happened.
Well, of course I was a bit surprised, but then I thought about it more. How passive aggressive can you get? I can see how this whole negativity thing can be used now. If you're feeling particularly pissy, and feel like taking it out on someone, it's perfectly acceptable to target anyone saying anything that could remotely be construed as negative, and proceed to embarrass them. How satisfying. How superior.
The co-worker did say after it was obvious that I did not find that action or statement the least bit entertaining that it was a joke. Haha, isn't that hilarious? I didn't think so. I've never taken too kindly to jokes like that. Oh and by the way, I was informed that this co-worker actually did like the singer I was referring to, a lot. I wanted to say, well, are you fucking related to him or something because you sure are taking a half hearted little comment very seriously. Whatever.
There you have it.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Don't Get Me Wrong
I Am Happy.
I know the post below this one may sound like I think being positive is a bad thing. Well, I do think too much of anything could be a bad thing, but in general I think being a happy sort is not so wrong. Some people just take it too far, and will accept nothing else. It's an impossible measure by which to judge a person's character which is what some proponents of positive thinking seem to do. We all have bad days, and unhappy thoughts. Some of us have more than others.
It is dishonest at best to pretend that people who acknowledge negative things are somehow flawed, and just unhappy people. I'll never believe it. Ever. As long as shitty things happen, I know that someone somewhere is thinking something negative about it. As long as people are people and step on each other's toes at times, people will get bent out of shape and piss and moan about it. Some people are better at hiding their true feelings about things, I never trust those people. I am much more likely to trust the person who is willing in such an environment to say, "man, this stinks!'' then the one who tries to pretend otherwise.
Sure it is a waste of energy to bitch and complain about things that are small and will not change. It is negative to do so. Find the silver lining or something, but don't try to tell me that I'm somehow a bad person because I don't play along. Sometimes it just feels better to say it, then be done with it. Granted, no one has actually told me specifically that I'm a negative person, however, the idea is that anyone who thinks negative thoughts is. That is the message. I think negative things sometimes, so I am indirectly implicated I suppose. Try as I might, at times I feel as if I might burst if I don't get some things off my chest.
I was much happier when I wasn't being hammered with this be positive crap. Say it once, but must it be a theme at every pep meeting? I guess it wouldn't be a pep meeting if someone wasn't bitching about everyone else being negative, although I'm not even sure who all these negative people are, everyone I work with seems to be fairly happy most of the time, give or take a moment here and there. It's not so intolerable, or at least that is what I thought until it was pointed out over and over again, that no, people are not happy. Oh, I see.
How about hammering in the idea that people treat each other with dignity and respect. That might help.
I know the post below this one may sound like I think being positive is a bad thing. Well, I do think too much of anything could be a bad thing, but in general I think being a happy sort is not so wrong. Some people just take it too far, and will accept nothing else. It's an impossible measure by which to judge a person's character which is what some proponents of positive thinking seem to do. We all have bad days, and unhappy thoughts. Some of us have more than others.
It is dishonest at best to pretend that people who acknowledge negative things are somehow flawed, and just unhappy people. I'll never believe it. Ever. As long as shitty things happen, I know that someone somewhere is thinking something negative about it. As long as people are people and step on each other's toes at times, people will get bent out of shape and piss and moan about it. Some people are better at hiding their true feelings about things, I never trust those people. I am much more likely to trust the person who is willing in such an environment to say, "man, this stinks!'' then the one who tries to pretend otherwise.
Sure it is a waste of energy to bitch and complain about things that are small and will not change. It is negative to do so. Find the silver lining or something, but don't try to tell me that I'm somehow a bad person because I don't play along. Sometimes it just feels better to say it, then be done with it. Granted, no one has actually told me specifically that I'm a negative person, however, the idea is that anyone who thinks negative thoughts is. That is the message. I think negative things sometimes, so I am indirectly implicated I suppose. Try as I might, at times I feel as if I might burst if I don't get some things off my chest.
I was much happier when I wasn't being hammered with this be positive crap. Say it once, but must it be a theme at every pep meeting? I guess it wouldn't be a pep meeting if someone wasn't bitching about everyone else being negative, although I'm not even sure who all these negative people are, everyone I work with seems to be fairly happy most of the time, give or take a moment here and there. It's not so intolerable, or at least that is what I thought until it was pointed out over and over again, that no, people are not happy. Oh, I see.
How about hammering in the idea that people treat each other with dignity and respect. That might help.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Welcome To The Happy Thoughts Re-education Training Camp, Leave Your Personality At the Door
Smile.
Welcome. We know what you are thinking, and it's not happy, in fact, it's not positive at all, and such thoughts will not be tolerated here. We don't like people who don't think happy thoughts, we don't like people who complain, speak their minds, or any other such negative things. There are more of us than you, accept our ways or leave.
We are not going to tell you if we think you are one of the negative ones, the ones who can't be happy. We will just sit and let you stew with that thought, that way, you will try harder to hide your negative energy, and we won't have to hear you complain. How many of you are sitting there now wondering, am I the person? Am I the one? Do I say negative things? I know I've said negative things, they must know about my secret thoughts, it must show on my face.
They talk about the negative people, the undesirable ones all the time, but they never say who they are, or how they know. They must suspect someone of this awful behavior, maybe me. Maybe so and so, or someone. Who knows, maybe all of us.
Give up your negativity, you are flawed, you are the one who is wrong, unlikeable, and not wanted here. Give up now you will not be tolerated.
Welcome. We know what you are thinking, and it's not happy, in fact, it's not positive at all, and such thoughts will not be tolerated here. We don't like people who don't think happy thoughts, we don't like people who complain, speak their minds, or any other such negative things. There are more of us than you, accept our ways or leave.
We are not going to tell you if we think you are one of the negative ones, the ones who can't be happy. We will just sit and let you stew with that thought, that way, you will try harder to hide your negative energy, and we won't have to hear you complain. How many of you are sitting there now wondering, am I the person? Am I the one? Do I say negative things? I know I've said negative things, they must know about my secret thoughts, it must show on my face.
They talk about the negative people, the undesirable ones all the time, but they never say who they are, or how they know. They must suspect someone of this awful behavior, maybe me. Maybe so and so, or someone. Who knows, maybe all of us.
Give up your negativity, you are flawed, you are the one who is wrong, unlikeable, and not wanted here. Give up now you will not be tolerated.
Friday, April 07, 2006
I Don't Know What's Come Over Me
I Just Don't Care.
The question most in my mind as I sat down here at the computer was, should I blog or paint my toes? Both are equally amusing, and both are pretty much meaningless to most other people. I checked my favorite sites hoping to find something to muse over, lots of good stuff, just nothing being said that I felt an overwhelming desire to contribute to.
I thought to myself as I continued to contemplate the question, what's wrong with me? Have I gone soft? Don't I care enough about anything to write about something? What about illegal immigration? Or, Ward Churchill getting his butt handed to him by Hannity last night on Fox? Yet, nothing. And, I'll tell you why, I'll always tell you why, I've become a chicken turd.
Complete and total chicken turd that's me. I'm afraid to say what I really think, and I do think about these things. Now you may ask yourself, what kind of fool has a blog that is afraid to say anything on it? Me, that's who.
What if my employer got ahold of this blog? Am I willing to lose my job for my ideals? I work in corporate America, in a very PC environment. We're all wound tighter than corks around there, I can't share the types of views I hold at my work place. I can't say what I think at all, unless it is to agree with the ruling thought of the management team. That is, if I want to remain in any sort of good favor around there.
At my core, I know this is wrong. I know it is dangerous. That people can't say what they think without whispering amongst themselves seems a frightening condition to be in. Sure it's not China, or Saudi Arabia, or North Korea, we do still have the means to express our views, to say things that are unpopular, but the cost of such is rising. The risks becoming more significant. Perhaps I suffer from paranoia, and have perceived something that is not there.
In that case I should have just painted my toes. I've just wasted a good half hour of boob tube watching. Shut up and watch the tube. Let someone else tell you what to think.
The question most in my mind as I sat down here at the computer was, should I blog or paint my toes? Both are equally amusing, and both are pretty much meaningless to most other people. I checked my favorite sites hoping to find something to muse over, lots of good stuff, just nothing being said that I felt an overwhelming desire to contribute to.
I thought to myself as I continued to contemplate the question, what's wrong with me? Have I gone soft? Don't I care enough about anything to write about something? What about illegal immigration? Or, Ward Churchill getting his butt handed to him by Hannity last night on Fox? Yet, nothing. And, I'll tell you why, I'll always tell you why, I've become a chicken turd.
Complete and total chicken turd that's me. I'm afraid to say what I really think, and I do think about these things. Now you may ask yourself, what kind of fool has a blog that is afraid to say anything on it? Me, that's who.
What if my employer got ahold of this blog? Am I willing to lose my job for my ideals? I work in corporate America, in a very PC environment. We're all wound tighter than corks around there, I can't share the types of views I hold at my work place. I can't say what I think at all, unless it is to agree with the ruling thought of the management team. That is, if I want to remain in any sort of good favor around there.
At my core, I know this is wrong. I know it is dangerous. That people can't say what they think without whispering amongst themselves seems a frightening condition to be in. Sure it's not China, or Saudi Arabia, or North Korea, we do still have the means to express our views, to say things that are unpopular, but the cost of such is rising. The risks becoming more significant. Perhaps I suffer from paranoia, and have perceived something that is not there.
In that case I should have just painted my toes. I've just wasted a good half hour of boob tube watching. Shut up and watch the tube. Let someone else tell you what to think.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Hubby's Home
We're Happy.
He's been out in the wilds, but he's back now for some rest and relaxation. His car was filthy when he got home. He's really put the 4x4 to the test, so far so good. The Before and After.
I'm a nerd.
Monday, March 27, 2006
The Best Posts Happen At 3:00 a.m.
It's Not 3:00 a.m.
If it was I could pretty much guarantee this would be good, but since it's not, well, you just get the usual bloviating and emotional upheaval that I serve up here. I must warn any who mistakenly venture onto this site expecting to find something important happening, nothing important happens here--ever. In fact, to this date I have broken at least 27 of the cardinal rules of blogging, those standards set forth by the biggest, and most influential bloggers out there. The number one rule being--don't blog about blogging--for to do so shows one and all that you have nothing important to say, and you basically suck.
That being said, I have reached the point that I will offer free Starbucks frappuccinos to my niece per hour that she willingly fixes this hole in the wall up. I want to at least look like I've got something important to say. Until then more mediocrity is to follow.
Yes, I did buy a $98.00 purse, but it was on sale and I only actually paid about 25 bucks for it, I want to follow the same principle on this blog here. Make it look good, even if it is cheap.
The truth is, since November of 2005 my life has been a mess. We moved in November, you would know that if I hadn't deleted that information. By some law of physics I suppose somewhere in the universe another set of life forms have received that electronic transmission, and are scratching their scaly heads in wonderment. Who knows? I guess it could happen.
Oh yes, so we moved. Since then things have been a bit tough. I can't actually even talk about it. It's too emotional. We're in a major transistion right now. Another one? So soon? Yes. Another one. I can't help it, sometimes these things just happen. This is one of those times. Although all the warning signs were there, we really did not anticipate that daddy in law would really break up with the wonderful woman he was living with, we did not expect that he would want his house back. Lord knows it was so much easier for my husband, myself, our daughter, our dog, and our 3 cats to up and move then it would have been for daddy in law, of course. Especially given the amount of notice we had.
I don't blame the man for wanting his house and all, even if we were paying his house payment plus per month. He needs that 3 bedroom 2 bath tri-level house with the huge yard all to himself. Our mistake was thinking he was stable to begin with and even going there. I wish we had never moved there. Anyway, at the time, we did not think this would happen, but we ignored the warning signs. We were there when it was convenient for him to have us there, then we got the boot.
At the time I had only been in my job just over 6 months, and we were starting to make a financial recovery, but were not there yet. Yes, I'm bitching. I never promised a rose garden here. I love that song by the way.
But that's the least of our problems. We moved. It was hard. We did it though. We were completely and totally broke. We've made some mistakes along the way in life, but we've always been on our own feet. It wasn't so easy this time.
Since we moved we've been scraping along, and getting by with the help of our family. Not in the form of monetary donations, but as in mom and dad let us move in with them for a little while. I'm so embarrassed to admit that. Yeah, I'm blogging from my parents basement, oh shut up. They opened their 6 bedroom, 3 bath bi-level's doors to us. Even as big as this house is, we're all cramped. It's been a sort of hell. Don't get me wrong, we're not ingrateful. We're very thankful my parents were willing to help us out, but my husband and I have been living with this sort of shame about the situation.
We have actually tried to hide the fact from people in our lives. Only a few people at work even know about the situation, and I've sworn them to secrecy. I know I shouldn't care, but I'm embarrassed. My parents are such fine people, they don't need my family here taking up space. They have assured me that everything is all right with them, they just want us to get on our feet. Dad always says, "I can't leave you kids a bunch of money, but if I can give you some space and buy you some time, I'm happy to do it."
Before you go on judging, let me tell you what we have done. My husband and I realized that we could not even afford to get into our own place. Being the sort of man he is, my husband took the bull by the horns and scooped up an opportunity to place us in a better financial position in life. That's what he's doing right now. He's in Wyoming working his balls off in whatever weather happens to be that day. He'll be home tomorrow, I can't wait for that.
I am holding down the fort here with my job, which is a good job. We're trying to make something happen for us. We're putting our best foot forward, and doing whatever we can to survive. Yeah, we live with my parents, but we won't always be here very soon we will be in our own place again. We'll all breathe a sigh of relief when that day comes.
I have been an emotional basketcase lately, and this is why. Sometimes I just want to go and get an apartment, but we'd have to give up our pets, and that would be hard. My parents are animal lovers too, and they would not want us to do that. It's going to be hard to take Mr. Connor back now, my dad has got pretty attached to him. I never even see the cat anymore, he's always sitting on my dad's lap.
Over the years when I was growing up I remember my parents opening their home to people in need. This time, it was us. When I grow up I want to be just like them. They are the most generous people I know.
There, I've confessed. Now you know what the bug has been.
If it was I could pretty much guarantee this would be good, but since it's not, well, you just get the usual bloviating and emotional upheaval that I serve up here. I must warn any who mistakenly venture onto this site expecting to find something important happening, nothing important happens here--ever. In fact, to this date I have broken at least 27 of the cardinal rules of blogging, those standards set forth by the biggest, and most influential bloggers out there. The number one rule being--don't blog about blogging--for to do so shows one and all that you have nothing important to say, and you basically suck.
That being said, I have reached the point that I will offer free Starbucks frappuccinos to my niece per hour that she willingly fixes this hole in the wall up. I want to at least look like I've got something important to say. Until then more mediocrity is to follow.
Yes, I did buy a $98.00 purse, but it was on sale and I only actually paid about 25 bucks for it, I want to follow the same principle on this blog here. Make it look good, even if it is cheap.
The truth is, since November of 2005 my life has been a mess. We moved in November, you would know that if I hadn't deleted that information. By some law of physics I suppose somewhere in the universe another set of life forms have received that electronic transmission, and are scratching their scaly heads in wonderment. Who knows? I guess it could happen.
Oh yes, so we moved. Since then things have been a bit tough. I can't actually even talk about it. It's too emotional. We're in a major transistion right now. Another one? So soon? Yes. Another one. I can't help it, sometimes these things just happen. This is one of those times. Although all the warning signs were there, we really did not anticipate that daddy in law would really break up with the wonderful woman he was living with, we did not expect that he would want his house back. Lord knows it was so much easier for my husband, myself, our daughter, our dog, and our 3 cats to up and move then it would have been for daddy in law, of course. Especially given the amount of notice we had.
I don't blame the man for wanting his house and all, even if we were paying his house payment plus per month. He needs that 3 bedroom 2 bath tri-level house with the huge yard all to himself. Our mistake was thinking he was stable to begin with and even going there. I wish we had never moved there. Anyway, at the time, we did not think this would happen, but we ignored the warning signs. We were there when it was convenient for him to have us there, then we got the boot.
At the time I had only been in my job just over 6 months, and we were starting to make a financial recovery, but were not there yet. Yes, I'm bitching. I never promised a rose garden here. I love that song by the way.
But that's the least of our problems. We moved. It was hard. We did it though. We were completely and totally broke. We've made some mistakes along the way in life, but we've always been on our own feet. It wasn't so easy this time.
Since we moved we've been scraping along, and getting by with the help of our family. Not in the form of monetary donations, but as in mom and dad let us move in with them for a little while. I'm so embarrassed to admit that. Yeah, I'm blogging from my parents basement, oh shut up. They opened their 6 bedroom, 3 bath bi-level's doors to us. Even as big as this house is, we're all cramped. It's been a sort of hell. Don't get me wrong, we're not ingrateful. We're very thankful my parents were willing to help us out, but my husband and I have been living with this sort of shame about the situation.
We have actually tried to hide the fact from people in our lives. Only a few people at work even know about the situation, and I've sworn them to secrecy. I know I shouldn't care, but I'm embarrassed. My parents are such fine people, they don't need my family here taking up space. They have assured me that everything is all right with them, they just want us to get on our feet. Dad always says, "I can't leave you kids a bunch of money, but if I can give you some space and buy you some time, I'm happy to do it."
Before you go on judging, let me tell you what we have done. My husband and I realized that we could not even afford to get into our own place. Being the sort of man he is, my husband took the bull by the horns and scooped up an opportunity to place us in a better financial position in life. That's what he's doing right now. He's in Wyoming working his balls off in whatever weather happens to be that day. He'll be home tomorrow, I can't wait for that.
I am holding down the fort here with my job, which is a good job. We're trying to make something happen for us. We're putting our best foot forward, and doing whatever we can to survive. Yeah, we live with my parents, but we won't always be here very soon we will be in our own place again. We'll all breathe a sigh of relief when that day comes.
I have been an emotional basketcase lately, and this is why. Sometimes I just want to go and get an apartment, but we'd have to give up our pets, and that would be hard. My parents are animal lovers too, and they would not want us to do that. It's going to be hard to take Mr. Connor back now, my dad has got pretty attached to him. I never even see the cat anymore, he's always sitting on my dad's lap.
Over the years when I was growing up I remember my parents opening their home to people in need. This time, it was us. When I grow up I want to be just like them. They are the most generous people I know.
There, I've confessed. Now you know what the bug has been.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
I Can't Think Of Anything Unimportant To Say
At All.
You know what I am? I'm the bad guy in the movie that won't die even after being shot in the face 30 times. I keep doing this, but I really don't have a thing to say at all. And that's nothing to write about.
It's lonely. I'm lonely. I want to talk about things, but I don't know what to talk about anymore. I have a whole folder dedicated to one sided conversations with complete strangers, they talk, I stop by and listen, but I don't talk back. I guess that's sort of rude on my part.
Hehe I laugh at myself. I really need to "get a life." Damn hormones. I'm going to cry now.
You know what I am? I'm the bad guy in the movie that won't die even after being shot in the face 30 times. I keep doing this, but I really don't have a thing to say at all. And that's nothing to write about.
It's lonely. I'm lonely. I want to talk about things, but I don't know what to talk about anymore. I have a whole folder dedicated to one sided conversations with complete strangers, they talk, I stop by and listen, but I don't talk back. I guess that's sort of rude on my part.
Hehe I laugh at myself. I really need to "get a life." Damn hormones. I'm going to cry now.
Monday, March 20, 2006
It's Snow Fun
But It Was Cold, Cold, Cold!
It snowed, the kiddo was out of school, and luckily I was off today, so we had an extra day together. Hubby left this a.m. to head out on his next "hitch", so we were lolly gagging around in pajamas. My brother came up with this fantastic idea of going sledding. This truly appealed to my inner child, although my outer fat ass needed some convincing.
Eventually I caved and we found the ole blow up snow tubing thing. It had never been used, I had bought it for my lovely daughter for Christmas, and this was the first real snow we've had since. We managed to get the thing inflated, which was quite a task, and we decided that mom and dad's front yard would be a good place to start since we were short on ideas as to where to go.
There are rules that transcend time when it comes to surfing the hill in my parent's front yard, something my daughter had never really done. First rule, we make a track, and stay in it. This used to work much better with trashbags we found, at least that's what my sister and I used to use. Of course we had perfectly good sleds in the garage, but the trash bag was more fun.
Daughter being completely unseasoned, and unaware of the rules made several errors on that first run down, first, she dragged her feet over the track, and she ran back up the hill right on the track, and we all know doing so will not help to get the run in the optimal icy condition that is preferable.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, let me show you how to do this I declared. I explained the importance of not messing up the track, and running up the hill to the side of the track so we can get it nice and icy. Little did I know, these new fangled snow things don't really make a good track like trash bags, I found they just sort of float over the snow, hovering just slightly above it. Here, watch me, I hopped on that thing belly first, and before I knew it I was sailing down the hill at about 20 miles per hour, which for a mom is really fast.
I dragged my hands, I dragged my feet, all right through the track, but I didn't care, I couldn't stop. That slicked up donut was flying. In a flash I imagined myself crashing head on into my brother's car which was parked right there on the sidewalk in front of me. No, I wasn't wearing a frickin' helmet! I managed to turn the thing, and I began a spin that make a whirling dervish nauseous. Finally, I stopped with a loud thud as I crashed side long into my brother's Jetta. The impact made the car shake.
Then I laid there laughing so hard tears streamed my cheeks, my brother was bent over with his hands on his knees laughing so hard that the only sound produced was a hissing sound from him trying to catch his breath. Uh, yeah, I felt like a fool. There I was insisting my daughter follow some ancient rules, and I broke every one of them the second I jumped on that thing.
We laughed our butts off though, and decided to head to a nearby school which my brother assured me had great hills covered with grass, which would hopefully be snow packed. He was right. They went down first, this time I cautiously jumped on the thing, and made a little bit slower descent, however, I did manage to sail halfway across the baseball field, but it was fun so it didn't matter.
Shortly after we got there the wind kicked up about 20 notches, and the wind chill was too horrific to endure. I saw some kid's blow up thing fly away, and they all went after it. One kid was out there on a boogie board, holding onto it for dear life. I saw them walk towards the nearby houses, the wind was so horrible I thought about offering them a ride, but I wasn't sure they wouldn't get offended or something.
After about 3 runs, daughter said, I'm going to the car, it's too cold mom. So, we high tailed it out of there. The wind really was blowing some seriously icy cold air on us. Ahh well, better luck next time. Hopefully we'll have a good snow again, they've been few and far between this year. It sure would be nice to get out there again, now that we have a good spot to go to.
It snowed, the kiddo was out of school, and luckily I was off today, so we had an extra day together. Hubby left this a.m. to head out on his next "hitch", so we were lolly gagging around in pajamas. My brother came up with this fantastic idea of going sledding. This truly appealed to my inner child, although my outer fat ass needed some convincing.
Eventually I caved and we found the ole blow up snow tubing thing. It had never been used, I had bought it for my lovely daughter for Christmas, and this was the first real snow we've had since. We managed to get the thing inflated, which was quite a task, and we decided that mom and dad's front yard would be a good place to start since we were short on ideas as to where to go.
There are rules that transcend time when it comes to surfing the hill in my parent's front yard, something my daughter had never really done. First rule, we make a track, and stay in it. This used to work much better with trashbags we found, at least that's what my sister and I used to use. Of course we had perfectly good sleds in the garage, but the trash bag was more fun.
Daughter being completely unseasoned, and unaware of the rules made several errors on that first run down, first, she dragged her feet over the track, and she ran back up the hill right on the track, and we all know doing so will not help to get the run in the optimal icy condition that is preferable.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, let me show you how to do this I declared. I explained the importance of not messing up the track, and running up the hill to the side of the track so we can get it nice and icy. Little did I know, these new fangled snow things don't really make a good track like trash bags, I found they just sort of float over the snow, hovering just slightly above it. Here, watch me, I hopped on that thing belly first, and before I knew it I was sailing down the hill at about 20 miles per hour, which for a mom is really fast.
I dragged my hands, I dragged my feet, all right through the track, but I didn't care, I couldn't stop. That slicked up donut was flying. In a flash I imagined myself crashing head on into my brother's car which was parked right there on the sidewalk in front of me. No, I wasn't wearing a frickin' helmet! I managed to turn the thing, and I began a spin that make a whirling dervish nauseous. Finally, I stopped with a loud thud as I crashed side long into my brother's Jetta. The impact made the car shake.
Then I laid there laughing so hard tears streamed my cheeks, my brother was bent over with his hands on his knees laughing so hard that the only sound produced was a hissing sound from him trying to catch his breath. Uh, yeah, I felt like a fool. There I was insisting my daughter follow some ancient rules, and I broke every one of them the second I jumped on that thing.
We laughed our butts off though, and decided to head to a nearby school which my brother assured me had great hills covered with grass, which would hopefully be snow packed. He was right. They went down first, this time I cautiously jumped on the thing, and made a little bit slower descent, however, I did manage to sail halfway across the baseball field, but it was fun so it didn't matter.
Shortly after we got there the wind kicked up about 20 notches, and the wind chill was too horrific to endure. I saw some kid's blow up thing fly away, and they all went after it. One kid was out there on a boogie board, holding onto it for dear life. I saw them walk towards the nearby houses, the wind was so horrible I thought about offering them a ride, but I wasn't sure they wouldn't get offended or something.
After about 3 runs, daughter said, I'm going to the car, it's too cold mom. So, we high tailed it out of there. The wind really was blowing some seriously icy cold air on us. Ahh well, better luck next time. Hopefully we'll have a good snow again, they've been few and far between this year. It sure would be nice to get out there again, now that we have a good spot to go to.
Too Popped To Poop
Oops, Reverse That, Switch It.
Mom always used to say that, "I'm just too pooped to pop!" She would say. I never knew exactly what she meant, I just thought it meant she was tired, which is probably what it was supposed to mean. I can see why she would be pooped, she was a mother of 3, a full-time nurse, and wife, and a prolific shopper, that's a lot of stuff.
These days she's pretty pooped, her health has not been so good, and I see her wearing down a bit. It is difficult to watch. Mom could always run circles around everyone, she was always so capable. These days the 3 of us kids pitch in more time to help get errands run, and pies bought. You know about my mom's pie thing right? She buys pies by the truckload, and always, always has a pie either fresh out of the oven or about to go in. Nobody even eats the pies anymore, except my dad, who darn well knows better than to refuse the gift of pie.
Dad still works the night shift after all of these years, he is hoping to retire in a couple of years, we look forward to that. It will be nice to see dad during the day again. Not only that, he's tired of the grind, and I don't blame him one bit for that. He drives the old Thunderbird to work, he's a slow driver, and gets the bird a lot, but he doesn't notice, or care, he's probably doing thought experiments anyway, the car pilots itself.
One morning dad left the car on auto pilot and ended up in someone's front yard. I guess after 30+ years of night shift, falling asleep one time is actually a pretty good record. Luckily, no one was hurt, except for dad's ego, and some innocent Aspen tree, which my parents immediately replaced. Dad went home, got mom and they went and planted a new tree that very moment. The owner's of the home said the new tree wasn't as good as the old tree. I don't know how they came to possess that knowledge, mom said the trees were very similar in size. You do what you can, after that, well...
Of course this isn't a new revelation, but it is difficult to see the parents slow down. Mom pretty much limits her trips to Walgreens, the grocery store, and the bank. She's always going to the bank, one would ask, what on earth is so important to go to the bank twice a week. I never actually go to my bank. I may step into the institution twice a year, and that's after putting it off for two months. I hate going into the bank.
I'm beaming with pride that mom has actually started using a debit card, heck, she's even got the visa check card which she sometimes forgets to use. I think the bank just sent it to her, they must have been reviewing their records and discovered my parents were the only members who did not have the card, so they sent it complimentary to any customer who has written more than 10,000 checks out of their account without ever bouncing one. We'll be out running errands and she'll say, "I need to stop at the bank." I can't help but ask "why?" Of course, she'll reply something like, "I need money to pick up my prescription."
"Mom," I ask, "can't you use your debit card for that?" Oh, she guesses so, but she needs cash for the post office, or something else. I give in, we go to the bank. At least there are no lines, everyone else is using their cards. My gosh, I use my card at the freakin' car wash. I never have cash on me, but I know I can get cash whenever I want, providing there is some in the bank of course.
Dad on the other hand does not know how to use his card. I'm not kidding. The man cannot figure it out. This is an educated man, a brilliant man, but he's befuddled on how to actually check out at the grocery store. That's why mom has to go to the bank all the time, she's got to get cash for dad. God I love them.
He has figured out how to surf the net though, and seems to do so quite often. I tried to show mom how to use email a few years ago before we went overseas. We went into dad's office, she sat down at the computer, I showed her how to log onto the internet, get on aol, check the email. I knew at that moment I would not be getting any emails from mom--ever. She humored me, I felt bad for trying, she seemed to feel embarrassed about it. I assured her it didn't matter at all, and that I could just email dad and he could print it up for her, or we could do things the old fashioned way, I would just call her.
Mom has never read my blog. The only posts she has ever read are those which I had printed up for her to read. It's probably better that way, she would get pissed about the pie thing, although I tease her about it. She knows I have blogged about her mean ass cat, and how the thing eats deli turkey and ham, not the brown sugar baked ham though, Precious only likes the honey ham. Can you believe that?
Dad has read my blog, and although he would never admit it, I'm sure he wonders where they went wrong. Don't worry dad, it's not your fault, well, that's not actually true, it could be genetic, you do have that one crazy sister afterall. They think these things do run in families. I remember my mom telling me years ago that "you never want to live in a town that has a looney bin." This from her experience as a young nurse working at the nut house. She went on to say, "most of the people in the town are relatives who moved closer to be around their family member in the mental hospital." And, "they end up staying, and most of them are just as crazy as the patients."
To this day she hates going into the town of Rawlings in Wyoming. The town does host a mental hospital, is that the p.c. way to say it? I don't even know. But I have to admit the town does have a certain "the hills have eyes" feel about it. I've noticed it myself.
This post continues to wander aimlessly much like my thoughts, so I suppose I will move on, and get going with the day. I've got to run to Walgreens and get mom's pills. She has already given me the cash to go pick 'em up for her.
Mom always used to say that, "I'm just too pooped to pop!" She would say. I never knew exactly what she meant, I just thought it meant she was tired, which is probably what it was supposed to mean. I can see why she would be pooped, she was a mother of 3, a full-time nurse, and wife, and a prolific shopper, that's a lot of stuff.
These days she's pretty pooped, her health has not been so good, and I see her wearing down a bit. It is difficult to watch. Mom could always run circles around everyone, she was always so capable. These days the 3 of us kids pitch in more time to help get errands run, and pies bought. You know about my mom's pie thing right? She buys pies by the truckload, and always, always has a pie either fresh out of the oven or about to go in. Nobody even eats the pies anymore, except my dad, who darn well knows better than to refuse the gift of pie.
Dad still works the night shift after all of these years, he is hoping to retire in a couple of years, we look forward to that. It will be nice to see dad during the day again. Not only that, he's tired of the grind, and I don't blame him one bit for that. He drives the old Thunderbird to work, he's a slow driver, and gets the bird a lot, but he doesn't notice, or care, he's probably doing thought experiments anyway, the car pilots itself.
One morning dad left the car on auto pilot and ended up in someone's front yard. I guess after 30+ years of night shift, falling asleep one time is actually a pretty good record. Luckily, no one was hurt, except for dad's ego, and some innocent Aspen tree, which my parents immediately replaced. Dad went home, got mom and they went and planted a new tree that very moment. The owner's of the home said the new tree wasn't as good as the old tree. I don't know how they came to possess that knowledge, mom said the trees were very similar in size. You do what you can, after that, well...
Of course this isn't a new revelation, but it is difficult to see the parents slow down. Mom pretty much limits her trips to Walgreens, the grocery store, and the bank. She's always going to the bank, one would ask, what on earth is so important to go to the bank twice a week. I never actually go to my bank. I may step into the institution twice a year, and that's after putting it off for two months. I hate going into the bank.
I'm beaming with pride that mom has actually started using a debit card, heck, she's even got the visa check card which she sometimes forgets to use. I think the bank just sent it to her, they must have been reviewing their records and discovered my parents were the only members who did not have the card, so they sent it complimentary to any customer who has written more than 10,000 checks out of their account without ever bouncing one. We'll be out running errands and she'll say, "I need to stop at the bank." I can't help but ask "why?" Of course, she'll reply something like, "I need money to pick up my prescription."
"Mom," I ask, "can't you use your debit card for that?" Oh, she guesses so, but she needs cash for the post office, or something else. I give in, we go to the bank. At least there are no lines, everyone else is using their cards. My gosh, I use my card at the freakin' car wash. I never have cash on me, but I know I can get cash whenever I want, providing there is some in the bank of course.
Dad on the other hand does not know how to use his card. I'm not kidding. The man cannot figure it out. This is an educated man, a brilliant man, but he's befuddled on how to actually check out at the grocery store. That's why mom has to go to the bank all the time, she's got to get cash for dad. God I love them.
He has figured out how to surf the net though, and seems to do so quite often. I tried to show mom how to use email a few years ago before we went overseas. We went into dad's office, she sat down at the computer, I showed her how to log onto the internet, get on aol, check the email. I knew at that moment I would not be getting any emails from mom--ever. She humored me, I felt bad for trying, she seemed to feel embarrassed about it. I assured her it didn't matter at all, and that I could just email dad and he could print it up for her, or we could do things the old fashioned way, I would just call her.
Mom has never read my blog. The only posts she has ever read are those which I had printed up for her to read. It's probably better that way, she would get pissed about the pie thing, although I tease her about it. She knows I have blogged about her mean ass cat, and how the thing eats deli turkey and ham, not the brown sugar baked ham though, Precious only likes the honey ham. Can you believe that?
Dad has read my blog, and although he would never admit it, I'm sure he wonders where they went wrong. Don't worry dad, it's not your fault, well, that's not actually true, it could be genetic, you do have that one crazy sister afterall. They think these things do run in families. I remember my mom telling me years ago that "you never want to live in a town that has a looney bin." This from her experience as a young nurse working at the nut house. She went on to say, "most of the people in the town are relatives who moved closer to be around their family member in the mental hospital." And, "they end up staying, and most of them are just as crazy as the patients."
To this day she hates going into the town of Rawlings in Wyoming. The town does host a mental hospital, is that the p.c. way to say it? I don't even know. But I have to admit the town does have a certain "the hills have eyes" feel about it. I've noticed it myself.
This post continues to wander aimlessly much like my thoughts, so I suppose I will move on, and get going with the day. I've got to run to Walgreens and get mom's pills. She has already given me the cash to go pick 'em up for her.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
A Confession
I Hate Poetry.
Well, that's not exactly true, I don't hate to READ poetry, I just hate hearing most other people read it OUT LOUD with the exception of my high school literature teacher who read quite nicely. It also helped that she was reading from a selection of great authors.
What is particularly annoying is angry poetry that is being screamed, or "rapped". People really abuse the pause, and that irks the crap out of me. They stop reading to allow the deep thoughts to sink in, never mind the fact that nothing being said is all that deep at all. Like whoa, let me pretend I'm moved here.
So, I wrote a poem about it:
What's that you say?
I'm angry and I'm sad
I've got nothing important to say
But I'm going to talk about it anyway
Life is hard and things are bad
I don't have everything I wish I had
The money I make all goes to taxes
So Congress can continue to feed their own fat asses
If that's not enough to make you mad
You can always look to childhood and blame dear old dad
He worked too hard and wasn't there
When he got home he fell asleep in his chair
Mom was no better she was always sad
At least you had a dad
I suffered a long line of losers
It wasn't my fault
Mom married a cad
Do these words depress you
That is my point indeed
Some poetry is just not easy to read
--end
Well, that's not exactly true, I don't hate to READ poetry, I just hate hearing most other people read it OUT LOUD with the exception of my high school literature teacher who read quite nicely. It also helped that she was reading from a selection of great authors.
What is particularly annoying is angry poetry that is being screamed, or "rapped". People really abuse the pause, and that irks the crap out of me. They stop reading to allow the deep thoughts to sink in, never mind the fact that nothing being said is all that deep at all. Like whoa, let me pretend I'm moved here.
So, I wrote a poem about it:
What's that you say?
I'm angry and I'm sad
I've got nothing important to say
But I'm going to talk about it anyway
Life is hard and things are bad
I don't have everything I wish I had
The money I make all goes to taxes
So Congress can continue to feed their own fat asses
If that's not enough to make you mad
You can always look to childhood and blame dear old dad
He worked too hard and wasn't there
When he got home he fell asleep in his chair
Mom was no better she was always sad
At least you had a dad
I suffered a long line of losers
It wasn't my fault
Mom married a cad
Do these words depress you
That is my point indeed
Some poetry is just not easy to read
--end
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Interesting Thoughts
Following Dad's Advice.
Of course he would hate to take credit for things as they are, it's too risky, to do so might mean blame for misfortune and failures. Not that we would do that. Dad is the smartest guy we know, and he would never lead us wrong. Yes, we still turn to mom and dad on those big decisions in our life, what a shame it would be to waste the opportunity to take advantage of their hard earned wisdom. Only a fool would do otherwise.
Almost 3 years ago hubby and I found ourselves unemployed. Thirty and unemployed just sucks, but the way things are, I think it might have been worse if we were older and even less "perky". Perkiness is after all a highly sought after trait in applicants, employers like perky, they don't think old people are all that perky, or so I've heard.
Not only that, hubby had spent the previous 13 years investing in a career, which ended rather unexpectedly. He had never been anything other than a Marine, and didn't really know what else to do. Blah blah blah, I've said all this before, unfortunately I deleted the whole sordid mess in one of my episodes.
The first year was the toughest. After we found decent employment we started picking up the rest of the pieces. The thing we want is rather typical, we want a home, cable t.v. and to raise our kiddo in a nice little neighborhood, oh and matching Corsicas in the driveway wouldn't hurt either. We also realize that one day we are going to be old, and it might be a wise thing to buy a home sometime in the near future so we aren't faced with a mortgage payment at retirement age Lord willing we get there.
Hubbers went to work at a desk job here, good, no, excellent medical benefits, pretty okay job, 401k, a retirement plan, and so on, but the pay stunk. It just wasn't great. This particular spot, like most places it seems offered very little room for advancement, unless one was the bearer of a bachelor's degree in anything, which in my opinion is a bunch of malarkey, but that's for another post. We needed more than $1300/month take home to live, and advance beyond treading water.
Luckily, I found a job with a former employer, and I'm quite happy where I am, and with what I'm at. My job offers some form of benefits for full-time employees, which I'm not, but even at that my pay is pretty decent. And most of all, I'm happy there.
Oh my gosh, I'm getting to the point, don't stop now.
My husband hates when I take this long to tell a story, but the history always seems so important to me. I'm really into, how did we get there. I don't know if that makes good reading or not. I'm sorry if it doesn't.
Where was I? So, we were doing pretty well, back on our feet, treading water, making ends meet, but not advancing much at all, and a home still was not in the foreseeable future.
That's where dad came in. He spoke to husband about an opportunity he had heard about, and had been reading about. Dad just told him about it. Hubby thought and thought about it, then brought it up to me, I thought and thought about it, and encouraged him to try it if he wanted to. He did research, contacted people, and finally decided to do it. This is where his Marine Corps training came in, his guts, and courage, and believe me, what he has done takes total balls.
When the time came he gave his employer notice, packed up his belongings, and headed to out of town, where he attended a training course in his new field of choice. He started his new job almost 2 weeks ago. It's been a huge adjustment, the first few days were horrible, the work is hard. He kept going, kept trying. The last few days were much better.
Now, he has a job with great benefits AND pay. In fact, he has tripled his income, and he knows he can advance. The only thing he had to do was be in shape physically, and have the courage to try, and most of all be willing to get dirty. Really dirty. He works in the cold, the wind, the sun, rain, or snow, but he is compensated for his work, and his time.
Here we go. I was reading a post at good ole Kim du Toit's site, and found it quite interesting, along with the comments that the post stirred up. I really wanted to comment, but didn't really know what I wanted to say. I guess it is just this, a man must do what a man must do. Dad always says, find a trade someone is willing to pay for.
In this corporate age, where CEOs bring home 6-7 digits while the lowers scrimp and scrape to get by, I don't blame anyone for moving on to greener pastures. When a company brings in 100 million in profit after all of the bills are paid, but can't see fit to even give their employees more than a Chili's gift card for Christmas, I don't blame anyone for seeking better opportunities, and truthfully, what companies really offer retirement plans anymore? 401k is not a retirement plan, and all they contribute is just what they are not paying you anyway.
I'm not under the impression that companies really want folks to stick around all that long. It seems to me they would much rather infuse their work force with perky 20 year olds every few years, who ironically start at the bottom of the pay scale.
Reinventing yourself is a very American thing. And I thank goodness for it. I'm so glad I live in a country where folks can decide, this isn't working for me, and go out and find something new. It is one of the best things about our country. That a 35 year old can begin a completely new career in this country is a testament to the greatness and the freedom of this land.
What do I know? Not much really, just that if we don't look out for our own family, no one else will. I don't delude myself into thinking employers really care about anything more than the bottom line, I don't blame them for that either. I realize it is just business.
In our case, we realize that we must make as much money now in our youth, in our prime as we can. We seek out companies that offer a future, but how many really do?
Of course he would hate to take credit for things as they are, it's too risky, to do so might mean blame for misfortune and failures. Not that we would do that. Dad is the smartest guy we know, and he would never lead us wrong. Yes, we still turn to mom and dad on those big decisions in our life, what a shame it would be to waste the opportunity to take advantage of their hard earned wisdom. Only a fool would do otherwise.
Almost 3 years ago hubby and I found ourselves unemployed. Thirty and unemployed just sucks, but the way things are, I think it might have been worse if we were older and even less "perky". Perkiness is after all a highly sought after trait in applicants, employers like perky, they don't think old people are all that perky, or so I've heard.
Not only that, hubby had spent the previous 13 years investing in a career, which ended rather unexpectedly. He had never been anything other than a Marine, and didn't really know what else to do. Blah blah blah, I've said all this before, unfortunately I deleted the whole sordid mess in one of my episodes.
The first year was the toughest. After we found decent employment we started picking up the rest of the pieces. The thing we want is rather typical, we want a home, cable t.v. and to raise our kiddo in a nice little neighborhood, oh and matching Corsicas in the driveway wouldn't hurt either. We also realize that one day we are going to be old, and it might be a wise thing to buy a home sometime in the near future so we aren't faced with a mortgage payment at retirement age Lord willing we get there.
Hubbers went to work at a desk job here, good, no, excellent medical benefits, pretty okay job, 401k, a retirement plan, and so on, but the pay stunk. It just wasn't great. This particular spot, like most places it seems offered very little room for advancement, unless one was the bearer of a bachelor's degree in anything, which in my opinion is a bunch of malarkey, but that's for another post. We needed more than $1300/month take home to live, and advance beyond treading water.
Luckily, I found a job with a former employer, and I'm quite happy where I am, and with what I'm at. My job offers some form of benefits for full-time employees, which I'm not, but even at that my pay is pretty decent. And most of all, I'm happy there.
Oh my gosh, I'm getting to the point, don't stop now.
My husband hates when I take this long to tell a story, but the history always seems so important to me. I'm really into, how did we get there. I don't know if that makes good reading or not. I'm sorry if it doesn't.
Where was I? So, we were doing pretty well, back on our feet, treading water, making ends meet, but not advancing much at all, and a home still was not in the foreseeable future.
That's where dad came in. He spoke to husband about an opportunity he had heard about, and had been reading about. Dad just told him about it. Hubby thought and thought about it, then brought it up to me, I thought and thought about it, and encouraged him to try it if he wanted to. He did research, contacted people, and finally decided to do it. This is where his Marine Corps training came in, his guts, and courage, and believe me, what he has done takes total balls.
When the time came he gave his employer notice, packed up his belongings, and headed to out of town, where he attended a training course in his new field of choice. He started his new job almost 2 weeks ago. It's been a huge adjustment, the first few days were horrible, the work is hard. He kept going, kept trying. The last few days were much better.
Now, he has a job with great benefits AND pay. In fact, he has tripled his income, and he knows he can advance. The only thing he had to do was be in shape physically, and have the courage to try, and most of all be willing to get dirty. Really dirty. He works in the cold, the wind, the sun, rain, or snow, but he is compensated for his work, and his time.
Here we go. I was reading a post at good ole Kim du Toit's site, and found it quite interesting, along with the comments that the post stirred up. I really wanted to comment, but didn't really know what I wanted to say. I guess it is just this, a man must do what a man must do. Dad always says, find a trade someone is willing to pay for.
In this corporate age, where CEOs bring home 6-7 digits while the lowers scrimp and scrape to get by, I don't blame anyone for moving on to greener pastures. When a company brings in 100 million in profit after all of the bills are paid, but can't see fit to even give their employees more than a Chili's gift card for Christmas, I don't blame anyone for seeking better opportunities, and truthfully, what companies really offer retirement plans anymore? 401k is not a retirement plan, and all they contribute is just what they are not paying you anyway.
I'm not under the impression that companies really want folks to stick around all that long. It seems to me they would much rather infuse their work force with perky 20 year olds every few years, who ironically start at the bottom of the pay scale.
Reinventing yourself is a very American thing. And I thank goodness for it. I'm so glad I live in a country where folks can decide, this isn't working for me, and go out and find something new. It is one of the best things about our country. That a 35 year old can begin a completely new career in this country is a testament to the greatness and the freedom of this land.
What do I know? Not much really, just that if we don't look out for our own family, no one else will. I don't delude myself into thinking employers really care about anything more than the bottom line, I don't blame them for that either. I realize it is just business.
In our case, we realize that we must make as much money now in our youth, in our prime as we can. We seek out companies that offer a future, but how many really do?
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Singing To My Monkey
And Pitsy Dootsy.
Driving in the car, I was suddenly struck with a memory from childhood, "I used to have one of those monkeys with the yellow chest, black arms and legs, and plastic face, hands and feet, and I even had a special song I used to sing to my monkey." I told my brother, who thought the last bit was funny. "Do you want to hear the song I used to sing to it?"
Of course, he did. So I began, "Like a rhinestone monkey..." and I laughed at what a dorky kid I was. Yes, I did sing Rhinestone Cowboy to my monkey. But what came next is what really made me laugh, my brother confessed that he had an imaginary friend named, Pitsy Dootsy. He said, "I've never told anyone about it before."
And so as promised, it's on the blog. Pitsy Dootsy? He refused to tell me what Pitsy looked like, but I envision a hat with a propellor on it, striped shirt and mork from ork pants, perhaps a feather boa somewhere in there to mix things up a bit.
Driving in the car, I was suddenly struck with a memory from childhood, "I used to have one of those monkeys with the yellow chest, black arms and legs, and plastic face, hands and feet, and I even had a special song I used to sing to my monkey." I told my brother, who thought the last bit was funny. "Do you want to hear the song I used to sing to it?"
Of course, he did. So I began, "Like a rhinestone monkey..." and I laughed at what a dorky kid I was. Yes, I did sing Rhinestone Cowboy to my monkey. But what came next is what really made me laugh, my brother confessed that he had an imaginary friend named, Pitsy Dootsy. He said, "I've never told anyone about it before."
And so as promised, it's on the blog. Pitsy Dootsy? He refused to tell me what Pitsy looked like, but I envision a hat with a propellor on it, striped shirt and mork from ork pants, perhaps a feather boa somewhere in there to mix things up a bit.
Monday, March 13, 2006
When I Can
I'll Spiffy Things Up A Bit.
I'm a techno tard so, anything I do on this page will require the assistance of someone who knows what the heck html stands for, and how the heck do I put up a blog roll, and other such things. I don't, it's not what I do. What I do is pamper people and make them feel good, and cared for.
But for now, these are a few of the people I check out whenever I get on the computer
in no particular order:
The Fat Lady
The Origin of Soul
The Crazy Rants of Samantha Burns
Tinkerty Tonk
Gut Rumbles
The Other Side of Kim
Eternity Road
The Passing Parade
Trevor Romain
Baby Troll Blog
I'm a techno tard so, anything I do on this page will require the assistance of someone who knows what the heck html stands for, and how the heck do I put up a blog roll, and other such things. I don't, it's not what I do. What I do is pamper people and make them feel good, and cared for.
But for now, these are a few of the people I check out whenever I get on the computer
in no particular order:
The Fat Lady
The Origin of Soul
The Crazy Rants of Samantha Burns
Tinkerty Tonk
Gut Rumbles
The Other Side of Kim
Eternity Road
The Passing Parade
Trevor Romain
Baby Troll Blog
Hubby
He's Out Of Town.
I really miss him. He's been gone for over a week now. None much has happened in that amount of time, there was a parent teacher conference, work was busy, oh and our 12th wedding anniversary.
I worked that day, I knew hubby would be out of town, so I didn't request that day off. I sent him a text message that morning wishing him a happy 12, and offering to spend at least 12 more with him. He did not reply, he's not a text messager.
At work, I arrived to a fairly busy day, and was disappointed that my lunch had been cut short. It's a silly thing, I know. I get emotional at times for the darndest reasons.
I rushed to the employee cafeteria at lunch time. Hubby was on my mind. As it happened I took my phone with me, something I rarely do, but I thought I might send him another message. While I stood there waiting for the food on the grill, I felt that familiar buzz in my pocket, I pulled the phone out, and there was his face staring right at me. His picture shows up when he calls, I programmed it that way on the phone, it is so Star Trek, and makes me feel all modern and stuff.
He called me, he never calls me when I'm at work, in fact, he rarely calls anyway, he's not a caller type. Awww, I answer, "hi honey." We exchange the where are you, what are you doing, etc. stuff, and he says, "I love you, Happy Anniversary."
Our phones disconnect us and break up about 10 times, we both happened to have very bad reception where we were at the moment. Finally, we get a quick, "I'll call you later, love you, bye!" in there and I go sit down with my lunch. Tear. Sniffle. Tear. I hold them back, I don't know why I felt like crying. I'm not a crying type. I look at the t.v. and think, "oh frick, someone put it on ESPN!" I eat, and debate with myself getting up and changing the channel, I decide not to, I just don't care enough to do it.
I miss him. Sure, we've had time apart over the years, he was in Thailand for 3 months while we were stationed overseas. It was a long 3 months, he rarely called. He was working. I knew that. It is the same now, he is in a different state working. He doesn't call much, I send him text messages all the time, I know he reads them, and they make him feel good, he told me they did.
This time is different though, I'm worrying. He's started a new job, it's a good job, but a very difficult one. And I'm worrying everyday about him, is he happy with things? Is he warm where he is? I have a lot on my mind right now, our lives have taken a dramatic turn, we think for the better, we think we've made good choices, smart choices, yet we have not been shown the results of our risk taking yet.
This is a big thing. One of the biggest things we've done in the past few years. Everything is changing really fast. I think he'll be home tomorrow night, I can't wait to sit and talk with him, and find out what's been happening in his world this past week. I just hope he's all right with everything.
I really miss him. He's been gone for over a week now. None much has happened in that amount of time, there was a parent teacher conference, work was busy, oh and our 12th wedding anniversary.
I worked that day, I knew hubby would be out of town, so I didn't request that day off. I sent him a text message that morning wishing him a happy 12, and offering to spend at least 12 more with him. He did not reply, he's not a text messager.
At work, I arrived to a fairly busy day, and was disappointed that my lunch had been cut short. It's a silly thing, I know. I get emotional at times for the darndest reasons.
I rushed to the employee cafeteria at lunch time. Hubby was on my mind. As it happened I took my phone with me, something I rarely do, but I thought I might send him another message. While I stood there waiting for the food on the grill, I felt that familiar buzz in my pocket, I pulled the phone out, and there was his face staring right at me. His picture shows up when he calls, I programmed it that way on the phone, it is so Star Trek, and makes me feel all modern and stuff.
He called me, he never calls me when I'm at work, in fact, he rarely calls anyway, he's not a caller type. Awww, I answer, "hi honey." We exchange the where are you, what are you doing, etc. stuff, and he says, "I love you, Happy Anniversary."
Our phones disconnect us and break up about 10 times, we both happened to have very bad reception where we were at the moment. Finally, we get a quick, "I'll call you later, love you, bye!" in there and I go sit down with my lunch. Tear. Sniffle. Tear. I hold them back, I don't know why I felt like crying. I'm not a crying type. I look at the t.v. and think, "oh frick, someone put it on ESPN!" I eat, and debate with myself getting up and changing the channel, I decide not to, I just don't care enough to do it.
I miss him. Sure, we've had time apart over the years, he was in Thailand for 3 months while we were stationed overseas. It was a long 3 months, he rarely called. He was working. I knew that. It is the same now, he is in a different state working. He doesn't call much, I send him text messages all the time, I know he reads them, and they make him feel good, he told me they did.
This time is different though, I'm worrying. He's started a new job, it's a good job, but a very difficult one. And I'm worrying everyday about him, is he happy with things? Is he warm where he is? I have a lot on my mind right now, our lives have taken a dramatic turn, we think for the better, we think we've made good choices, smart choices, yet we have not been shown the results of our risk taking yet.
This is a big thing. One of the biggest things we've done in the past few years. Everything is changing really fast. I think he'll be home tomorrow night, I can't wait to sit and talk with him, and find out what's been happening in his world this past week. I just hope he's all right with everything.
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