Ring ring ...
Me: "Science Department*, this is Jennifer."
Old Man: "Yes, can I speak with Barbie Balooma?"
"I'm sorry sir, I don't know who that is; there's no one in our department by that name."
{Confused laugh} "Oh, okay, sorry, bye."
"Good bye."
(5 minutes later)
Ring ring ...
"Medicinal Chemistry, this is Jennifer."
"Hi, I need to speak to Barbie Balooma."
"I'm sorry sir, you just called here and I couldn't help you. Are you looking for someone in the Higher Education Science department?"
"No, she's in the Finance department."
"Well, this is Science. If you have internet access, you can go to www.collegename.edu and look up her name in the search bar on the home page."
{Very confused Old Man voice} "Hmmm, I guess I'm just doing everything wrong here! Okay, well, then, good bye."
"Good bye."
(2 minutes later)
(Conscience gets the best of me; I look up 'Balooma' and 'Barbie' before hitting paydirt on 'Barby' - it's Bamahloo, by the way)
Ring ring ...
"Hello?"
"Hello, sir, you just called me asking for Barby Bamahloo. I was able to look up her number and would be happy to give it to you."
"Oh, if you would look it up for me, that would be great!"
"I already looked it up for you sir; I have it right here."
"Oh, well, just let me get a pen, hold on just a second ..."
(click)
*headdesk*
(2 minutes later)
(Feeling pissy)
{Sigh}
{Grab phone}
{Begin dialing}
{Phone rings on my end}
{Switch to ringing line}
"Science Department, this is Jennifer."
"Hi, you just called me but I disconnected you."
"Yes, yes you did. Are you ready for the number?"
"I'm ready, go ahead."
"It's 555-123-4567."
"55 ... what?"
"555. 123."
{repeats} "555. 1 ... ?"
"1. 2. 3."
{repeats} "555. 123. Okay."
"4. 5."
{repeats} "4. 5."
"6."
{repeats} "6."
"7."
{repeats} "7?"
"Yes, 7."
"555-123-4567?"
"You've got it sir."
"555-123-4567. Okay, thank you so much sweety!"
{eyeroll} "Mmm-hmmm. Have a great day."
"Buh bye!"
(click)
I get karma points for that, don't I? Please tell me I do.
*Names have been changed to protect the bitchy
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Hello, My Name is Jenn and I'm ...
... ? I don't know about you, but I just can't finish that statement with a few pithy words. I'm pretty sure that I'm not alone in my multi-facetedness - doesn't everyone have a lot going on with their personality? No? Just me? Well, alrighty then. Why don't I list a few things that make me such an *ahem* interesting person, and you can pick and chose whichever ones make your skirt fly up, mmmkay?
... a reader. And I don't just mean someone who reads books, I mean someone who would breathe the printed word if possible. I took a test today (yay for the Internets!) and learned that I read at 750 words per minute. If that doesn't mean anything to you, well, we really can't be friends now, can we.
... a smidge bit stubborn. And by smidge, I mean unbelievably. Don't tell my husband I admitted that. I blame my dad. Don't tell my dad I said that.
... an overly proud parent. I'm sure all my Facebook friends are tired of hearing about my two incredible, smart, beautiful, talented, amazing children. Too bad. That's what the hide button is for, guys.
... a dog trainer. Part-time only, due to the necessity of having room for another job that actually pays the bills. I love dog training. I hate people. Surprisingly, this does not cause problems as often as one might think it would. Clients tell me I'm great (shut up! they do!), but after 3 years of training, working with hundreds of dogs of all breeds, ages, and behavior issues, I still occasionally feel like I have no idea what I am doing. Please do not read the previous sentence if you are interested in hiring me.
... a full-time executive assistant. And I just got interrupted by work. Really, the things they expect of me around here.
... a fallen-away Catholic. Baptism, First Communion, Confirmation, and Church Marriage all under my belt, and here I sit, feeling completely apathetic about ever going to mass again. In my world, being gay is not a choice and everyone deserves the right to get married. I think that abortions within the first 4 months should be legal, because it's not my right to impose my religious beliefs ("life begins at conception") on anyone else. Yeah. Not so much fitting in with the Catholic crowd these days.
... a person who believes in ghosts, psychic powers, and aliens. After seeing Sheena as a child, I spent years believing I could talk to animals. Some days, I still do. What?
... a pill-popping downer. Don't worry, the pill-popping cancels out the downer part. That's what my doctor says anyway.
... an obsessor, with no ability to let things go. Especially when those things are me doing something stupid and/or embarrassing. Or when I get utterly screwed over by random store employees. Have I told you the Hollywood Video story? Let's go with the short version, which is that I am on year 10 of my Hollywood Video boycott. Fuck those fuckers. (Mom, if you're reading this, please edit the last sentence to 'darn those meanies.' And put the bar of soap down, okey dokey?)
... a statistic in the 'morbidly obese' column. I don't know what the hell I'm going to do about that. Lord knows I need to do something.
... a dreamer. I dream of being an author, editor, crazy cat lady, and lazy woman of leisure. I dream of having a home with built-in bookcases in every room, including the kitchen and all bathrooms. I dream of getting 9-10 hours of sleep per night on a regular basis. I dream of the Pacific Ocean, Magic Mountain, and Claim Jumper. I dream that I am sitting at work and all of the sudden get this overwhelming urge to ... you know what? Never mind.
... a woman with little tolerance for females of the happy clappy persona. I am not interested in befriending someone who farts rainbows and shits sunshine. Come now, sit here on the bitchy bench with me. Isn't that better?
... a straight-arrow. The anti-partier. Bor. Ing. I'm just too old/tired/fat/broke to be fun.
... an odd duck. I can't listen to someone's voicemail without leaving a message. I only like even numbers, especially when it comes to setting my alarm or the microwave. I'm anal-retentive at work but a complete slob at home, even though the results of my slobbiness drive me insane. I want to be more liked, and am seriously annoyed with myself for the wanting. My Sahara-Desert-dry skin sucksass but I can't be bothered with lotion. Random smells make me gag, but I can handle my kids' vomit without blinking. Oh, did I go a bit too far there? Oops.
... a girl whose brother is dead. It's been seven years, and I still haven't learned to live without him.
... a wife and mother. Most days, I feel that I am not particularly good at being these things. My husband and kids kind of got screwed. Sorry guys.
... a Pampered Chef hostess currently having a catalog party. Want to buy some cookware?
... a reader. And I don't just mean someone who reads books, I mean someone who would breathe the printed word if possible. I took a test today (yay for the Internets!) and learned that I read at 750 words per minute. If that doesn't mean anything to you, well, we really can't be friends now, can we.
... a smidge bit stubborn. And by smidge, I mean unbelievably. Don't tell my husband I admitted that. I blame my dad. Don't tell my dad I said that.
... an overly proud parent. I'm sure all my Facebook friends are tired of hearing about my two incredible, smart, beautiful, talented, amazing children. Too bad. That's what the hide button is for, guys.
... a dog trainer. Part-time only, due to the necessity of having room for another job that actually pays the bills. I love dog training. I hate people. Surprisingly, this does not cause problems as often as one might think it would. Clients tell me I'm great (shut up! they do!), but after 3 years of training, working with hundreds of dogs of all breeds, ages, and behavior issues, I still occasionally feel like I have no idea what I am doing. Please do not read the previous sentence if you are interested in hiring me.
... a full-time executive assistant. And I just got interrupted by work. Really, the things they expect of me around here.
... a fallen-away Catholic. Baptism, First Communion, Confirmation, and Church Marriage all under my belt, and here I sit, feeling completely apathetic about ever going to mass again. In my world, being gay is not a choice and everyone deserves the right to get married. I think that abortions within the first 4 months should be legal, because it's not my right to impose my religious beliefs ("life begins at conception") on anyone else. Yeah. Not so much fitting in with the Catholic crowd these days.
... a person who believes in ghosts, psychic powers, and aliens. After seeing Sheena as a child, I spent years believing I could talk to animals. Some days, I still do. What?
... a pill-popping downer. Don't worry, the pill-popping cancels out the downer part. That's what my doctor says anyway.
... an obsessor, with no ability to let things go. Especially when those things are me doing something stupid and/or embarrassing. Or when I get utterly screwed over by random store employees. Have I told you the Hollywood Video story? Let's go with the short version, which is that I am on year 10 of my Hollywood Video boycott. Fuck those fuckers. (Mom, if you're reading this, please edit the last sentence to 'darn those meanies.' And put the bar of soap down, okey dokey?)
... a statistic in the 'morbidly obese' column. I don't know what the hell I'm going to do about that. Lord knows I need to do something.
... a dreamer. I dream of being an author, editor, crazy cat lady, and lazy woman of leisure. I dream of having a home with built-in bookcases in every room, including the kitchen and all bathrooms. I dream of getting 9-10 hours of sleep per night on a regular basis. I dream of the Pacific Ocean, Magic Mountain, and Claim Jumper. I dream that I am sitting at work and all of the sudden get this overwhelming urge to ... you know what? Never mind.
... a woman with little tolerance for females of the happy clappy persona. I am not interested in befriending someone who farts rainbows and shits sunshine. Come now, sit here on the bitchy bench with me. Isn't that better?
... a straight-arrow. The anti-partier. Bor. Ing. I'm just too old/tired/fat/broke to be fun.
... an odd duck. I can't listen to someone's voicemail without leaving a message. I only like even numbers, especially when it comes to setting my alarm or the microwave. I'm anal-retentive at work but a complete slob at home, even though the results of my slobbiness drive me insane. I want to be more liked, and am seriously annoyed with myself for the wanting. My Sahara-Desert-dry skin sucksass but I can't be bothered with lotion. Random smells make me gag, but I can handle my kids' vomit without blinking. Oh, did I go a bit too far there? Oops.
... a girl whose brother is dead. It's been seven years, and I still haven't learned to live without him.
... a wife and mother. Most days, I feel that I am not particularly good at being these things. My husband and kids kind of got screwed. Sorry guys.
... a Pampered Chef hostess currently having a catalog party. Want to buy some cookware?
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Diary of a Snow Shoveler
Being a So Cal transplant here in Virginia, I rather enjoy the snow. The majority of my friends and neighbors hate it. We don't usually get much, but this winter there has been a lot more than normal. So I'm sending out this little piece of humor to all my local friends who tell me I'm crazy for loving the snow, and my back-home friends who are jealous that we are getting snowed-in :-).
DIARY OF A SNOW SHOVELER
December 8 - 6:00 PM It started to snow. The first snow of the season and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven. It looked like a Grandma Moses Print. So romantic we felt like newlyweds again. I love snow!
December 9 - We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow covering every inch of the landscape. What a fantastic sight! Can there be a lovelier place in the whole world? Moving here was the best idea I've ever had! Shoveled for the first time in years and felt like a boy again. I did both our driveway and the sidewalks. This afternoon the snow plough came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the driveway, so I got to shovel again. What a perfect life!
December 12 - The sun has melted all our lovely snow ... such a disappointment! My neighbor tells me not to worry- we'll definitely have a white Christmas. No snow on Christmas would be awful! Bob says we'll have so much snow by the end of winter that I'll never want to see snow again. I don't think that's possible. Bob is such a nice man, I'm glad he's our neighbor.
December 14 - Snow, lovely snow! 8 inches last night. The temperature dropped to -20. The cold makes everything sparkle so. The wind took my breath away, but I warmed up by shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. This is the life! The snow plough came back this afternoon and buried everything again. I didn't realize I would have to do quite this much shoveling, but I'll certainly get back in shape this way. I wish I wouldn't huff and puff so.
December 15 - 20 inches forecast. Sold my van and bought a 4x4 Blazer. Bought snow tires for the wife's car and 2 extra shovels. Stocked the freezer. The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out. I think that's silly. We aren't in Alaska, after all.
December 16 - Ice storm this morning. Fell on my rear on the ice in the driveway putting down salt. Hurt like hell. The wife laughed for an hour, which I think was very cruel.
December 17 - Still way below freezing. Roads are too icy to go anywhere. Electricity was off for 5 hours. I had to pile the blankets on to stay warm. Nothing to do but stare at the wife and try not to irritate her. Guess I should've bought a wood stove, but won't admit it to her. God I hate it when she's right. I can't believe I'm freezing to death in my own living room.
December 20 - Electricity's back on, but had another 14 inches of the darn stuff last night. More shoveling! Took all day. The dam snow plough came by twice. Tried to find a neighbor kid to shovel, but they said they're too busy playing hockey. I think they're lying. Called the only hardware store around to see about buying a snow blower and they're out. Might have another shipment in March. I think they're lying. Bob says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me. I think he's lying.
December 22 - Bob was right about a white Christmas because 13 more inches of the white crap fell today, and it's so cold, it probably won't melt till August. Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to shovel and then I had to pee. By the time I got undressed, peed and dressed again, I was too tired to shovel. Tried to hire Bob who has a plough on his truck for the rest of the winter, but he says he's too busy. I think the butthole is lying.
December 23 - Only 2 inches of snow today. And it warmed up to 0. The wife wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning. What is she, nuts?!! Why didn't she tell me to do that a month ago? She says she did but I think she's lying.
December 24 - 6 inches. Snow packed so hard by snow plough, I broke the shovel. Thought I was having a heart attack. If I ever catch the son of a bitch who drives that snow plough, I'll drag him through the snow by his balls and beat him to death with my broken shovel. I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shoveling and then he comes down the street at 100 miles an hour and throws snow all over where I've just been! Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas carols with her and open our presents, but I was too busy watching for the darn snow plough.
December 25 - Merry frisking Christmas! 20 more inches of the darn slop tonight - we're snowed in. The idea of shoveling makes my blood boil. God, I hate the snow! Then the snow plough driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel. The wife says I have a bad attitude. I think she's a frisking idiot. If I have to watch "It's A Wonderful Life" one more time, I'm going to stuff her into the microwave.
December 26 - Still snowed in. Why the hell did I ever move here? It was all HER idea. She's really getting on my nerves.
December 27 - Temperature dropped to -30 and the pipes froze; plumber came after 14 hours of waiting for him, he only charged me $1,400 to replace all my pipes.
December 28 - Warmed up to above -20. Still snowed in. My WIFE is driving me crazy!!!
December 29 - 10 more inches. Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cave in. That's the silliest thing I ever heard. How dumb does he think I am?
December 30 - Roof caved in. I beat up the snow plough driver, and now he is suing me for a million dollars, not only the beating I gave him but also for trying to shove the broken snow shovel up his BUTT. The wife went home to her mother. 9 more inches predicted.
December 31 - I set fire to what's left of the house. No more shoveling.
January 8 - Feel so good. I just love those little white pills they keep giving me. Why am I tied to the bed?
DIARY OF A SNOW SHOVELER
December 8 - 6:00 PM It started to snow. The first snow of the season and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven. It looked like a Grandma Moses Print. So romantic we felt like newlyweds again. I love snow!
December 9 - We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow covering every inch of the landscape. What a fantastic sight! Can there be a lovelier place in the whole world? Moving here was the best idea I've ever had! Shoveled for the first time in years and felt like a boy again. I did both our driveway and the sidewalks. This afternoon the snow plough came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the driveway, so I got to shovel again. What a perfect life!
December 12 - The sun has melted all our lovely snow ... such a disappointment! My neighbor tells me not to worry- we'll definitely have a white Christmas. No snow on Christmas would be awful! Bob says we'll have so much snow by the end of winter that I'll never want to see snow again. I don't think that's possible. Bob is such a nice man, I'm glad he's our neighbor.
December 14 - Snow, lovely snow! 8 inches last night. The temperature dropped to -20. The cold makes everything sparkle so. The wind took my breath away, but I warmed up by shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. This is the life! The snow plough came back this afternoon and buried everything again. I didn't realize I would have to do quite this much shoveling, but I'll certainly get back in shape this way. I wish I wouldn't huff and puff so.
December 15 - 20 inches forecast. Sold my van and bought a 4x4 Blazer. Bought snow tires for the wife's car and 2 extra shovels. Stocked the freezer. The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out. I think that's silly. We aren't in Alaska, after all.
December 16 - Ice storm this morning. Fell on my rear on the ice in the driveway putting down salt. Hurt like hell. The wife laughed for an hour, which I think was very cruel.
December 17 - Still way below freezing. Roads are too icy to go anywhere. Electricity was off for 5 hours. I had to pile the blankets on to stay warm. Nothing to do but stare at the wife and try not to irritate her. Guess I should've bought a wood stove, but won't admit it to her. God I hate it when she's right. I can't believe I'm freezing to death in my own living room.
December 20 - Electricity's back on, but had another 14 inches of the darn stuff last night. More shoveling! Took all day. The dam snow plough came by twice. Tried to find a neighbor kid to shovel, but they said they're too busy playing hockey. I think they're lying. Called the only hardware store around to see about buying a snow blower and they're out. Might have another shipment in March. I think they're lying. Bob says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me. I think he's lying.
December 22 - Bob was right about a white Christmas because 13 more inches of the white crap fell today, and it's so cold, it probably won't melt till August. Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to shovel and then I had to pee. By the time I got undressed, peed and dressed again, I was too tired to shovel. Tried to hire Bob who has a plough on his truck for the rest of the winter, but he says he's too busy. I think the butthole is lying.
December 23 - Only 2 inches of snow today. And it warmed up to 0. The wife wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning. What is she, nuts?!! Why didn't she tell me to do that a month ago? She says she did but I think she's lying.
December 24 - 6 inches. Snow packed so hard by snow plough, I broke the shovel. Thought I was having a heart attack. If I ever catch the son of a bitch who drives that snow plough, I'll drag him through the snow by his balls and beat him to death with my broken shovel. I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shoveling and then he comes down the street at 100 miles an hour and throws snow all over where I've just been! Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas carols with her and open our presents, but I was too busy watching for the darn snow plough.
December 25 - Merry frisking Christmas! 20 more inches of the darn slop tonight - we're snowed in. The idea of shoveling makes my blood boil. God, I hate the snow! Then the snow plough driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel. The wife says I have a bad attitude. I think she's a frisking idiot. If I have to watch "It's A Wonderful Life" one more time, I'm going to stuff her into the microwave.
December 26 - Still snowed in. Why the hell did I ever move here? It was all HER idea. She's really getting on my nerves.
December 27 - Temperature dropped to -30 and the pipes froze; plumber came after 14 hours of waiting for him, he only charged me $1,400 to replace all my pipes.
December 28 - Warmed up to above -20. Still snowed in. My WIFE is driving me crazy!!!
December 29 - 10 more inches. Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cave in. That's the silliest thing I ever heard. How dumb does he think I am?
December 30 - Roof caved in. I beat up the snow plough driver, and now he is suing me for a million dollars, not only the beating I gave him but also for trying to shove the broken snow shovel up his BUTT. The wife went home to her mother. 9 more inches predicted.
December 31 - I set fire to what's left of the house. No more shoveling.
January 8 - Feel so good. I just love those little white pills they keep giving me. Why am I tied to the bed?
Thursday, August 6, 2009
OMG OMG OMG I WON! Sort of.
I entered a story contest and I WON I WON I WON HOLYCRAP I WON†!!!
†Disclaimer: Don't get too excited. Read more.
Goodnites, a type of pull-ups for older kids who are still having problems staying dry at night, is currently running a contest that asks people to share special bedtime moments, routines, tips, etc. The set-up on their website is:
†Disclaimer: Don't get too excited. Read more.
Goodnites, a type of pull-ups for older kids who are still having problems staying dry at night, is currently running a contest that asks people to share special bedtime moments, routines, tips, etc. The set-up on their website is:
The few moments you share with your child at bedtime – whether reading a chapter of a favorite book, making up a fairytale or wishing your child sweet dreams with a kiss – can become moments treasured and remembered forever.
If you have a special bedtime routine, story, moment and/or tip, we want to hear from you. Your entry could be selected and featured as a weekly "Bedtime Moment of the Week," and you will be entered for a chance to win a Grand Prize bedroom makeover for your child, an inviting space to share more lasting memories together.
By sharing your special bedtime moment, you’ll help parents who may be in the dark over nighttime issues with their kids, like bedwetting, put the focus back on what really matters at night. Help us shine a light on special bedtime moments.
If you have a special bedtime routine, story, moment and/or tip, we want to hear from you. Your entry could be selected and featured as a weekly "Bedtime Moment of the Week," and you will be entered for a chance to win a Grand Prize bedroom makeover for your child, an inviting space to share more lasting memories together.
By sharing your special bedtime moment, you’ll help parents who may be in the dark over nighttime issues with their kids, like bedwetting, put the focus back on what really matters at night. Help us shine a light on special bedtime moments.
You can enter once per day, as many times as you like over the course of the contest. I entered three stories; my first entry apparently sucked*, as it was delegated to the sad, dusty little corner of nothingness reserved for, well, supremely sucky stories. My second entry was a bit better - it was chosen as a "featured moment" in Week 2, which means it was close but no cigar (or, in this case, no $25 Amazon gift card).
BUT.
BUT!
My last entry was chosen as the WINNER! of Week 4.
That's right people. WINNER!
As a weekly WINNER!, I am now eligible to win one of the two $2500 grand prize awards, which, according to the official rules, is a check that "may be used toward a children’s bedroom makeover."
Think about that.
10 weekly winners. 2 checks.
Nice odds, no?
Well, it would be if odds mattered. Sadly, it's not that easy. Dammit. The grand prizes will not be awarded by random drawing of weekly WINNERS! Apparently, that's too boring, too dull, too unfun for thebastards folks down at Goodnites. Instead, the weekly WINNERS! will be judged against each other, using the same criteria that made us WINNERS! in the first place: Originality (25%), Creativity (25%) and Relevance to Bedtime (50%).
So instead of a 20% chance to win $2500, I am now thrown to thesharks judges, my sweet little story up for discussion and dissection against nine other crappy not as good equally worthy WINNERS!.
The grand prize winners will be chosen "on or around" August 15th. Oh goodie. That gives me at least 10 more days of obsessing and stressing and nerves and re-reading my story over and over again andplotting to off the other WINNERS! devising a way to bribe the judges hoping against hope that my story wins. Because really, it's not about the $2500. It's not!
BUT.
BUT!
My last entry was chosen as the WINNER! of Week 4.
That's right people. WINNER!
As a weekly WINNER!, I am now eligible to win one of the two $2500 grand prize awards, which, according to the official rules, is a check that "may be used toward a children’s bedroom makeover."
Think about that.
10 weekly winners. 2 checks.
Nice odds, no?
Well, it would be if odds mattered. Sadly, it's not that easy. Dammit. The grand prizes will not be awarded by random drawing of weekly WINNERS! Apparently, that's too boring, too dull, too unfun for the
So instead of a 20% chance to win $2500, I am now thrown to the
The grand prize winners will be chosen "on or around" August 15th. Oh goodie. That gives me at least 10 more days of obsessing and stressing and nerves and re-reading my story over and over again and
It's. Not.
Okay, well it is a little bit. But mostly, it's about receiving validation that my story, *my writing*, is good. Good enough to stand up to judgement and come out on top.
Huh. Do you know how hard it is to blog with all of your fingers crossed?
www.goodnites.com/na/Contest/WinnersList-Archive.aspx
Huh. Do you know how hard it is to blog with all of your fingers crossed?
www.goodnites.com/na/Contest/WinnersList-Archive.aspx
*Despite the judges' judgy judgyness, I stand by my first entry. It is most definitely better than quite a few of the ones picked as featured moments, and in my completely unbiased opinion it is in all reality more than worthy of being a WINNER! Obviously, the judgy judging judges** got it all wrong that week.
**This is no way refers to the top-notch, discerning judges of Week 4.
**This is no way refers to the top-notch, discerning judges of Week 4.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Sit. Stay. Good blog reader.
Okay, so my last entry was a wee bit depressing. I get that way sometimes. What can I say? I'm over it. Nothing more to see here, people, move along, move along. Let us all forage ahead into this (new and much less emoish and/or low-on-meds) (but high on parentheses) post. I'll hold your hand, I promise.
Did you know that I'm a dog trainer? No? I am forced to point out that you must have been remiss in reading my profile. Go ahead, go check it out. I'll wait.
...
Yeah, it's short. I'm not one for going on and on when a few succinct sentences will do, as I'm sure you can tell by my concise, to-the-point, no frills previous entries.
What?
Anyway, I fell into dog training when I needed a p/t job that would allow me to work around my husband's (then normal) working hours. My dilemma came in the fact that I'd rather clean all the bathrooms in Grand Central Station with my tongue* than work in customer service, yet I also keenly felt the need to avoid living in a cardboard box, screening my cell phone calls for creditors and my mother-in-law.
So.
Being left with few options, I jumped on the opportunity to apply for the dog training position open at my local PetSmart. The minor detail that I'd never owned a dog didn't slow me down in the slightest. After all, how hard could it be? I lied my way through the interview and Voilà! A new job was all mine.
Two years later, I left PetSmart as quote "the best trainer they'd ever had" unquote (thank you Manager Joe, you are obviously a man of keen and savvy business sense) to become the head trainer at my local humane society. Not only the head trainer, but also the program creator and curriculum writer. People, they *headhunted* me. I'm, like, all in charge and stuff. SO. RAD.
I no longer have to lie about my experience. Well, not much. There is still that bit about how I got started in the dog training world. Seriously, you expect me to tell clients I learned from PetSmart? Ha. Dream on.
The coolest thing is I *love* training. I dream of making training my full-time job, which due to the low pay for all non-Totally-Overboard-Dog-Whisperers and/or non-English-Dominatrix-But-Somehow-Still-Cute people such as myself, will not happen until my husband is recognized for the genius he is and given an approximately 92.8% raise. For now, I toil away the days as an Executive Secretary (impressive, no?) and spend my (precious little) spare time working hard as a free-lance trainer.
>>Note: You know that saying "choose a job you love and you'll never work a day in your life"? Two words: totalcompleteabsoluteutter bullshit. Missed the mark on that one, Confucius, my friend. Reeaaalllly missed the mark.<<
I've begun branching out to working with private clients and teaching things like agility and therapy training. Of course, I still have my classes at the humane society; my little program has taken off and is doing quite well for itself. Clients love me and are recommending me left and right. Well, maybe just left. ANYWAY. Point being, I'm making a (small, inconsequential) name for myself in my little town. Yee haw!
(If you ever tell anyone I said yee haw, I'll hunt you down and teach your dog to pee on your leg.)
(Don't doubt me. I have the power**.)
This past weekend, due to the (spectacular) behavior of dog that I (spectacularly) trained, I interviewed with a local vet who wants to be able to recommend a (spectacular) trainer to her clients in need. As a result of said interview, I now have a vet pimping my services. *And* she wants to me to run classes at her clinic.
I so rock.
I made business cards (which I would love to share with y'all because I worked really hard on them and they look freaking awesome and professional and not homemade at all but seeing as how they have my phone number on them I think I'll take Paranoid Interweb Guidelines and Why You Should Never Post Personal Info for $1000, Alex) and I am working on a tri-fold flyer (flier?) showcasing all my (spectacular) training services. I need to come up with hourly prices and packages and shiny pictures and a website and reference quotes from previous clients and OH MY GOD I'M A REAL PROFESSIONAL NOW.
GAH.
I must needs go locate a mop, as my head has just exploded.
*gold star if you can name that one
**gold star and a cherry on top for that one
Did you know that I'm a dog trainer? No? I am forced to point out that you must have been remiss in reading my profile. Go ahead, go check it out. I'll wait.
...
Yeah, it's short. I'm not one for going on and on when a few succinct sentences will do, as I'm sure you can tell by my concise, to-the-point, no frills previous entries.
What?
Anyway, I fell into dog training when I needed a p/t job that would allow me to work around my husband's (then normal) working hours. My dilemma came in the fact that I'd rather clean all the bathrooms in Grand Central Station with my tongue* than work in customer service, yet I also keenly felt the need to avoid living in a cardboard box, screening my cell phone calls for creditors and my mother-in-law.
So.
Being left with few options, I jumped on the opportunity to apply for the dog training position open at my local PetSmart. The minor detail that I'd never owned a dog didn't slow me down in the slightest. After all, how hard could it be? I lied my way through the interview and Voilà! A new job was all mine.
Two years later, I left PetSmart as quote "the best trainer they'd ever had" unquote (thank you Manager Joe, you are obviously a man of keen and savvy business sense) to become the head trainer at my local humane society. Not only the head trainer, but also the program creator and curriculum writer. People, they *headhunted* me. I'm, like, all in charge and stuff. SO. RAD.
I no longer have to lie about my experience. Well, not much. There is still that bit about how I got started in the dog training world. Seriously, you expect me to tell clients I learned from PetSmart? Ha. Dream on.
The coolest thing is I *love* training. I dream of making training my full-time job, which due to the low pay for all non-Totally-Overboard-Dog-Whisperers and/or non-English-Dominatrix-But-Somehow-Still-Cute people such as myself, will not happen until my husband is recognized for the genius he is and given an approximately 92.8% raise. For now, I toil away the days as an Executive Secretary (impressive, no?) and spend my (precious little) spare time working hard as a free-lance trainer.
>>Note: You know that saying "choose a job you love and you'll never work a day in your life"? Two words: totalcompleteabsoluteutter bullshit. Missed the mark on that one, Confucius, my friend. Reeaaalllly missed the mark.<<
I've begun branching out to working with private clients and teaching things like agility and therapy training. Of course, I still have my classes at the humane society; my little program has taken off and is doing quite well for itself. Clients love me and are recommending me left and right. Well, maybe just left. ANYWAY. Point being, I'm making a (small, inconsequential) name for myself in my little town. Yee haw!
(If you ever tell anyone I said yee haw, I'll hunt you down and teach your dog to pee on your leg.)
(Don't doubt me. I have the power**.)
This past weekend, due to the (spectacular) behavior of dog that I (spectacularly) trained, I interviewed with a local vet who wants to be able to recommend a (spectacular) trainer to her clients in need. As a result of said interview, I now have a vet pimping my services. *And* she wants to me to run classes at her clinic.
I so rock.
I made business cards (which I would love to share with y'all because I worked really hard on them and they look freaking awesome and professional and not homemade at all but seeing as how they have my phone number on them I think I'll take Paranoid Interweb Guidelines and Why You Should Never Post Personal Info for $1000, Alex) and I am working on a tri-fold flyer (flier?) showcasing all my (spectacular) training services. I need to come up with hourly prices and packages and shiny pictures and a website and reference quotes from previous clients and OH MY GOD I'M A REAL PROFESSIONAL NOW.
GAH.
I must needs go locate a mop, as my head has just exploded.
*gold star if you can name that one
**gold star and a cherry on top for that one
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Living With the Lack of Me
On a random whim today I looked up an old childhood friend. We're talking from waaaay back, like pre-k back, childhood BFF. I figured it would be pretty much impossible to find her because, really, it's a big big world (points to anyone who knows that one) and her name isn't all that uncommon. Imagine my surprise when I was able to track her down in less than 30 minutes, and confirm it was definitely her in less than an hour. You know why?
Because she has a career.
Because she has made something of herself.
Because she has done something with her life that has actually had impact.
I'll admit it helped that she's still using her maiden name. But basically, she's worked hard and her name is out there for all the world to see.
I had a fleeting thought about contacting her but dismissed that readily. After all, what would I say to her? "Hi, not to be stalkerish or anything, but this is the girl you were friends with back in preschool. I moved away, we kept in touch for a few years, letters, visits, blah blah, do you remember me? You do? Awesome. How did I find you? Oh, well, your career in the sports world made it pretty easy for me to track you down. No, I swear I'm not a stalker! You just kinda randomly popped into my head and I decided to see if I could find you, just to say hi. No, I've got nothing better to do. No, I pretty much don't have a life. You do? Well okay then, have a good one, gotta go, bye!"
Yeah. That wouldn't be awkward at all.
Honestly though, there was no way in hell I was going to drop her an email. And my whole instantaneous rejection of the idea of contacting her got me to thinking. Why? What would be so bad about just sending a short-but-sweet message?
But I knew why.
I don't want to tell her about my life. I don't want to admit that while she went to college on a gymnastics scholarship, I had a baby at 17 and trashed my high school GPA. I don't want to admit that while she earned her bachelor's degree, I chose to work full-time at some random job and dropped out of community college. I don't want to admit that while she built a career and worked on her master's degree, I continued to flounder around in the working world, trying to make my way up the administrative assistant ladder. I don't want to admit that while she followed her dreams, I let mine die, smothered under the weight of bills and jobs and family responsibilities.
I am ashamed of myself.
I feel like that's a horrible thing to say. After all, I am completely blessed. I have an amazing, utterly wonderful husband. He is my heart and my soul and the love we have is more than I ever dreamed possible. I have two gorgeous, healthy, incredible children. They are my living, breathing miracles, the personification of everything that is wondrous in this world. The three of them are, quite simply, everything to me.
Material things? Got those too. A home. A job, a car, cable and a cell phone. A laptop with high-speed internet connection. I may be on a budget, but at least there's enough money in my bank account to create a budget. I'm going on vacation next month, for God's sake.
My life is not bereft.
But the things in my life that I am proud of, the things that I feel lucky about, did not come from me. They are not things I had to work for. Not things I earned or achieved. Everything that is good in my life was given to me; whether by fate or a quirk or the grace of God, everything important has come to me without any effort on my part.
But my education? Nothing. Wasted potential. My career? Non-existent. Wasted potential.
Just ... wasted. I've done nothing with myself. Nothing my parents can be proud of, nothing for my children to look up to, nothing for my husband to brag about.
Nothing that gives me an ounce of satisfaction with myself, with my efforts. I can't even say, hey, I tried dammit. Because I didn't try. I just dropped out. I feel like such a loser, sitting here at almost 32 years old with no education and no career.
It sucks.
Of all the things that make me unhappy about myself - my weight, my fitness, my housekeeping ability, my appearance, my bumbling social skills - my lack of a college degree and career are the only things that I feel like I had 100% control over and simply blew. Things could have been so different, if only ... if only.
It's all on me.
There are no excuses. Nothing for me to hide behind. No one for me to blame but myself. I stand alone, pulled down by the weight of my own shortcomings.
The thought of shouldering these regrets for the rest of my life makes me want to sink down to the ground and weep. The weight of this burden is unbearable heavy, yet I see no way to change this outcome. I am held fast by the extraordinary realities of my life - chains that I willingly embrace and clutch tightly to my heart. I unequivocally refuse to give up an inch of what I have been given.
But oh, the yearning, the sheer ache, for what could have, should have, been earned.
Because she has a career.
Because she has made something of herself.
Because she has done something with her life that has actually had impact.
I'll admit it helped that she's still using her maiden name. But basically, she's worked hard and her name is out there for all the world to see.
I had a fleeting thought about contacting her but dismissed that readily. After all, what would I say to her? "Hi, not to be stalkerish or anything, but this is the girl you were friends with back in preschool. I moved away, we kept in touch for a few years, letters, visits, blah blah, do you remember me? You do? Awesome. How did I find you? Oh, well, your career in the sports world made it pretty easy for me to track you down. No, I swear I'm not a stalker! You just kinda randomly popped into my head and I decided to see if I could find you, just to say hi. No, I've got nothing better to do. No, I pretty much don't have a life. You do? Well okay then, have a good one, gotta go, bye!"
Yeah. That wouldn't be awkward at all.
Honestly though, there was no way in hell I was going to drop her an email. And my whole instantaneous rejection of the idea of contacting her got me to thinking. Why? What would be so bad about just sending a short-but-sweet message?
But I knew why.
I don't want to tell her about my life. I don't want to admit that while she went to college on a gymnastics scholarship, I had a baby at 17 and trashed my high school GPA. I don't want to admit that while she earned her bachelor's degree, I chose to work full-time at some random job and dropped out of community college. I don't want to admit that while she built a career and worked on her master's degree, I continued to flounder around in the working world, trying to make my way up the administrative assistant ladder. I don't want to admit that while she followed her dreams, I let mine die, smothered under the weight of bills and jobs and family responsibilities.
I am ashamed of myself.
I feel like that's a horrible thing to say. After all, I am completely blessed. I have an amazing, utterly wonderful husband. He is my heart and my soul and the love we have is more than I ever dreamed possible. I have two gorgeous, healthy, incredible children. They are my living, breathing miracles, the personification of everything that is wondrous in this world. The three of them are, quite simply, everything to me.
Material things? Got those too. A home. A job, a car, cable and a cell phone. A laptop with high-speed internet connection. I may be on a budget, but at least there's enough money in my bank account to create a budget. I'm going on vacation next month, for God's sake.
My life is not bereft.
But the things in my life that I am proud of, the things that I feel lucky about, did not come from me. They are not things I had to work for. Not things I earned or achieved. Everything that is good in my life was given to me; whether by fate or a quirk or the grace of God, everything important has come to me without any effort on my part.
But my education? Nothing. Wasted potential. My career? Non-existent. Wasted potential.
Just ... wasted. I've done nothing with myself. Nothing my parents can be proud of, nothing for my children to look up to, nothing for my husband to brag about.
Nothing that gives me an ounce of satisfaction with myself, with my efforts. I can't even say, hey, I tried dammit. Because I didn't try. I just dropped out. I feel like such a loser, sitting here at almost 32 years old with no education and no career.
It sucks.
Of all the things that make me unhappy about myself - my weight, my fitness, my housekeeping ability, my appearance, my bumbling social skills - my lack of a college degree and career are the only things that I feel like I had 100% control over and simply blew. Things could have been so different, if only ... if only.
It's all on me.
There are no excuses. Nothing for me to hide behind. No one for me to blame but myself. I stand alone, pulled down by the weight of my own shortcomings.
The thought of shouldering these regrets for the rest of my life makes me want to sink down to the ground and weep. The weight of this burden is unbearable heavy, yet I see no way to change this outcome. I am held fast by the extraordinary realities of my life - chains that I willingly embrace and clutch tightly to my heart. I unequivocally refuse to give up an inch of what I have been given.
But oh, the yearning, the sheer ache, for what could have, should have, been earned.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Blogging on Blogs
In case you are looking for some insight to my character, I thought I'd post my daily internet "must reads" for your perusing pleasure. I am quite sure that clicking on these links will open a whole new world of understanding for you in regards to who I really am, my loves and hates, my passions and my obsessions, what drives me and what makes me the shining light of humanity that I truly am.
Or hey, it'll give you something to do if you're bored.
othejoys.blogspot.com
I love sarcastic humor, and this blogger has it in spades. But although she writes about her children and her life as mommy bloggers tend to do, she also throws in some wonderful gems that are insightful and thought-provoking, and have nothing to do with the joys of parenthood. An (almost) daily poster, you can't help but be envious of her ability to pull a great post out of just about any situation.
http://www.blogantagonist.com/
A total non-mom blog. This blogger writes about anything and everything, which although includes stories about her two sons and her life as a stay-at-home mom, it also showcases her thoughts on gays, education, politics, music, and life in general. Quite possibly my favorite blog.
http://www.mattlogelin.com/
Matt Logelin's wife, Liz, gave birth to their first child (Maddy) and died 27 hours later. This blog is all about his life as a widowed father. Matt is a fabulous writer and photographer, and his blog brings both laughs and heartache on a regular basis.
themeanestmom.blogspot.com
Now this is a mom blog, and it's one of the best! Jana Matthews is a stay-at-home mom with 4 kids, 3 of which were born a mere 8 months apart (a daughter and twin boys). She's got a parenting style that her kids hate but other moms love, and she writes about their day-to-day life in hilarious excerpts. Plus she's constantly giving cool stuff away - what's not to love?!
http://www.joyunexpected.com/
Y, the blogger at Joy Unexpected, posts about life in L.A. (that's California, not Louisiana, people) as a stay-at-home mom with three kids. She struggles with her body image, weight loss, and other typical women's issues, and she writes about them in a compelling, honest way that just draws you in. Y never pulls any punches, and her impact is a great one.
barefootfoodie.com
I just recently started reading Barefoot Foodie. This blogger had a baby a few months ago, so her posting has slowed down a bit. Still, when she manages to hit the internets, she makes up for her lack of posting with her no-holds-barred, most-people-only-talk-about-this-stuff-when-they're-trashed, be-careful-you-don't-snarf-on-your-keyboard style. Awesome ... and not for the faint-hearted or easily offended!
http://www.mcknob.com/
I was originally drawn to Crystal when I stumbled across a link to her Crazy Chronicles, the autobiography of her terribly difficult, sometimes disastrous, life. The CCs are extremely heart breaking and extraordinarily compelling. But what keeps me coming back are her 'everyday life' posts, full of self-deprecating, sarcastic humor. This is a chick who isn't afraid to laugh at herself (or her husband, kids, and anyone else she encounters that lends her some blog fodder).
iservethequeens.blogspot.com
Jen is a beautiful writer who draws pictures and tugs on heart strings with her words, but is so down-to-earth that you want to chill out with her over beer and pizza. She draws you in to her world and leaves you with the hope that tomorrow is always a better day.
http://www.dietgirl.org/
Shauna lost 165 pounds - half of her body weight! She blogged about it on the way, and now as a successful loser, she continues upon her journey of life, love, and maintaining diet happiness. She's funny and real, and more than worth the read even if you're not a card-carrying member of Weight Watchers.
crasspollination.blogspot.com
A departure from my norm, this is a blog authored by an ER nurse. Skewering doctors, patients, and co-workers alike, Nurse K brings to life the most ridiculous, annoying, and downright absurd realities of the ER. Occasionally her medical jargon is over my head, but for the most part she's right on the level of the layest of lay persons.
cakewrecks.blogspot.com
"When professional cakes go horribly, hilariously wrong." So says the subtitle of this blog, and it's an apt description. Jen does a fabulous job of adding witty and entertaining running commentary to go along with the pics of the Cakes from Hell. Good times.
notalwaysright.com
Customer service sucks because customers suck. Read hysterical, true stories about customers from hell told from the employee's side of the counter.
failblog.org
Ever had something go completely wrong? FAIL. Ever witnessed something ridiculously, stupidly wrong? FAIL. Ever want to be highly entertained by these sorts of things? FAIL BLOG. 'Nuff said.
http://www.fmylife.com/
Fmylife stands for f**k my life. And why might some one's life be f**ked? Read all about it here. Prepare to laugh your ass off at other people's miseries.
Or hey, it'll give you something to do if you're bored.
othejoys.blogspot.com
I love sarcastic humor, and this blogger has it in spades. But although she writes about her children and her life as mommy bloggers tend to do, she also throws in some wonderful gems that are insightful and thought-provoking, and have nothing to do with the joys of parenthood. An (almost) daily poster, you can't help but be envious of her ability to pull a great post out of just about any situation.
http://www.blogantagonist.com/
A total non-mom blog. This blogger writes about anything and everything, which although includes stories about her two sons and her life as a stay-at-home mom, it also showcases her thoughts on gays, education, politics, music, and life in general. Quite possibly my favorite blog.
http://www.mattlogelin.com/
Matt Logelin's wife, Liz, gave birth to their first child (Maddy) and died 27 hours later. This blog is all about his life as a widowed father. Matt is a fabulous writer and photographer, and his blog brings both laughs and heartache on a regular basis.
themeanestmom.blogspot.com
Now this is a mom blog, and it's one of the best! Jana Matthews is a stay-at-home mom with 4 kids, 3 of which were born a mere 8 months apart (a daughter and twin boys). She's got a parenting style that her kids hate but other moms love, and she writes about their day-to-day life in hilarious excerpts. Plus she's constantly giving cool stuff away - what's not to love?!
http://www.joyunexpected.com/
Y, the blogger at Joy Unexpected, posts about life in L.A. (that's California, not Louisiana, people) as a stay-at-home mom with three kids. She struggles with her body image, weight loss, and other typical women's issues, and she writes about them in a compelling, honest way that just draws you in. Y never pulls any punches, and her impact is a great one.
barefootfoodie.com
I just recently started reading Barefoot Foodie. This blogger had a baby a few months ago, so her posting has slowed down a bit. Still, when she manages to hit the internets, she makes up for her lack of posting with her no-holds-barred, most-people-only-talk-about-this-stuff-when-they're-trashed, be-careful-you-don't-snarf-on-your-keyboard style. Awesome ... and not for the faint-hearted or easily offended!
http://www.mcknob.com/
I was originally drawn to Crystal when I stumbled across a link to her Crazy Chronicles, the autobiography of her terribly difficult, sometimes disastrous, life. The CCs are extremely heart breaking and extraordinarily compelling. But what keeps me coming back are her 'everyday life' posts, full of self-deprecating, sarcastic humor. This is a chick who isn't afraid to laugh at herself (or her husband, kids, and anyone else she encounters that lends her some blog fodder).
iservethequeens.blogspot.com
Jen is a beautiful writer who draws pictures and tugs on heart strings with her words, but is so down-to-earth that you want to chill out with her over beer and pizza. She draws you in to her world and leaves you with the hope that tomorrow is always a better day.
http://www.dietgirl.org/
Shauna lost 165 pounds - half of her body weight! She blogged about it on the way, and now as a successful loser, she continues upon her journey of life, love, and maintaining diet happiness. She's funny and real, and more than worth the read even if you're not a card-carrying member of Weight Watchers.
crasspollination.blogspot.com
A departure from my norm, this is a blog authored by an ER nurse. Skewering doctors, patients, and co-workers alike, Nurse K brings to life the most ridiculous, annoying, and downright absurd realities of the ER. Occasionally her medical jargon is over my head, but for the most part she's right on the level of the layest of lay persons.
cakewrecks.blogspot.com
"When professional cakes go horribly, hilariously wrong." So says the subtitle of this blog, and it's an apt description. Jen does a fabulous job of adding witty and entertaining running commentary to go along with the pics of the Cakes from Hell. Good times.
notalwaysright.com
Customer service sucks because customers suck. Read hysterical, true stories about customers from hell told from the employee's side of the counter.
failblog.org
Ever had something go completely wrong? FAIL. Ever witnessed something ridiculously, stupidly wrong? FAIL. Ever want to be highly entertained by these sorts of things? FAIL BLOG. 'Nuff said.
http://www.fmylife.com/
Fmylife stands for f**k my life. And why might some one's life be f**ked? Read all about it here. Prepare to laugh your ass off at other people's miseries.
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