Boxing Day Rules:
1st RULE: You do not talk about Boxing Day sales before you get the item.
2nd RULE: You DO NOT talk about Boxing Day sales before you get the item.
3rd RULE: If someone says "stop" or goes limp, the fight is over and the item is yours.
4th RULE: Only two shoppers to a fight.
5th RULE: One fight at a time.
6th RULE: No sharp nails, no stilettos.
7th RULE: Fights will go on as long as they have to.
8th RULE: If this is your first Boxing Day sale, you HAVE to fight.
I should have shared the Rules earlier. I've heard that Boxing Day (and Black Friday) sales can be pretty rough. If you participated, I hope you won.
PS - I have had ideas for posts, but when I try writing them out they seem even worse than the above. Sorry, I got nothing!!! Oh, and you probably noticed the Boxing Day rules are oddly similar to the Fight Club rules. ;P
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
The Gift of the Magi
I like the story. The wife loves her hubby so much, she sells her beautiful hair to get a chain for his treasured watch (which belonged to his grandpa). He loves her so much, he sells his watch to get special combs for her hair. Very sweet.
But the wife's hair will grow back, the hubby isn't getting that watch back. He does have the chain, a symbol of his wife's love...but somehow it never seemed like an even exchange. I'm actually kind of a romantic and I wouldn't mind being in that hubby's shoes, but from the outside looking in, it never seemed right.
Do you know of any real-life examples that mirror the story? I have a vague memory of my parents saying something similar happened to an aunt and uncle. but I don't remember it clearly.
But the wife's hair will grow back, the hubby isn't getting that watch back. He does have the chain, a symbol of his wife's love...but somehow it never seemed like an even exchange. I'm actually kind of a romantic and I wouldn't mind being in that hubby's shoes, but from the outside looking in, it never seemed right.
Do you know of any real-life examples that mirror the story? I have a vague memory of my parents saying something similar happened to an aunt and uncle. but I don't remember it clearly.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Angels or a Nightmare???
This post is about an experience I had, but I'm not sure I had. Hopefully it will make sense.
I've mentioned I have a 20 inch neck. It's great for holding up my big head. It also came with a free gift--sleep apnea. That causes people to stop breathing for short periods while they sleep. But so what? I was fine (and too dumb to look up the consequences). I started waking up a lot during the night and then waking up with headaches in the morning. Not every morning, but often. And then more often. And then mornings became a real struggle. I was tired all the time. But I work long hours, so of course I was tired. I didn't connect being tired to the apnea.
There was one positive. One day a very vain woman in my office stopped by to ask a question. My mind was alert, but I could feel my eyes closing. It was hysterical. Why? Because of the look on the woman's face. Thanks to her vanity, she was horribly offended that I could drift off while talking to HER. As I said, my mind was alert, so I was able to enjoy the moment.
That convinced me to see a doctor. I spent one night in the hospital for a "sleep study"--I was hooked up to monitors that measured how often I stopped breathing and also tracked my blood oxygen levels. At 5:00am the technician monitoring my activity woke me up. She couldn't take it anymore--she said I scared her more than any other patient in her 25 year career. On average, I stopped breathing 113 times an hour. At one point, my blood oxygen level went down to 59% (that's why I got headaches--carbon dioxide in my blood instead of oxygen). My poor brain!!!
I was put on the fast track to get a machine to keep me breathing at night, until I decided whether to have a minor throat procedure. Two weeks later I still didn't have the machine. And then it happened.
I went to bed, fell asleep, and later I felt hands pulling me away. I could see my room, then my house. I kept rising higher up (backing away) and the view was just what you would expect, until eventually I was looking down through clouds. But I didn't feel peaceful. I felt panicked. Imagine you see your puppy run out in front of a car. You can save it, but people are holding you back. You can't get free, but you have to. That's how I felt. Finally I shouted, "No, I can't go! My family needs me!". The hands let me go.
And then I woke up. I was awake, but I couldn't move. My heart was pounding so hard and fast I couldn't tell one beat from another and I was gasping for air. I must have stopped breathing for quite a while. I don't know how long it took for me to catch my breath and for my heart rate to drop back to normal--it felt like an hour, but it was at probably only ten minutes. Needless to say I was exhausted.
So what do you think happened that night? Was I on my way to the next life? Or just having a nightmare?
PS - I had the throat procedure. One experience like that was one too many.
I've mentioned I have a 20 inch neck. It's great for holding up my big head. It also came with a free gift--sleep apnea. That causes people to stop breathing for short periods while they sleep. But so what? I was fine (and too dumb to look up the consequences). I started waking up a lot during the night and then waking up with headaches in the morning. Not every morning, but often. And then more often. And then mornings became a real struggle. I was tired all the time. But I work long hours, so of course I was tired. I didn't connect being tired to the apnea.
There was one positive. One day a very vain woman in my office stopped by to ask a question. My mind was alert, but I could feel my eyes closing. It was hysterical. Why? Because of the look on the woman's face. Thanks to her vanity, she was horribly offended that I could drift off while talking to HER. As I said, my mind was alert, so I was able to enjoy the moment.
That convinced me to see a doctor. I spent one night in the hospital for a "sleep study"--I was hooked up to monitors that measured how often I stopped breathing and also tracked my blood oxygen levels. At 5:00am the technician monitoring my activity woke me up. She couldn't take it anymore--she said I scared her more than any other patient in her 25 year career. On average, I stopped breathing 113 times an hour. At one point, my blood oxygen level went down to 59% (that's why I got headaches--carbon dioxide in my blood instead of oxygen). My poor brain!!!
I was put on the fast track to get a machine to keep me breathing at night, until I decided whether to have a minor throat procedure. Two weeks later I still didn't have the machine. And then it happened.
I went to bed, fell asleep, and later I felt hands pulling me away. I could see my room, then my house. I kept rising higher up (backing away) and the view was just what you would expect, until eventually I was looking down through clouds. But I didn't feel peaceful. I felt panicked. Imagine you see your puppy run out in front of a car. You can save it, but people are holding you back. You can't get free, but you have to. That's how I felt. Finally I shouted, "No, I can't go! My family needs me!". The hands let me go.
And then I woke up. I was awake, but I couldn't move. My heart was pounding so hard and fast I couldn't tell one beat from another and I was gasping for air. I must have stopped breathing for quite a while. I don't know how long it took for me to catch my breath and for my heart rate to drop back to normal--it felt like an hour, but it was at probably only ten minutes. Needless to say I was exhausted.
So what do you think happened that night? Was I on my way to the next life? Or just having a nightmare?
PS - I had the throat procedure. One experience like that was one too many.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Close Calls; Stalking; Normal???
Former reader Elaine teased me last year about some of my posts ("you always seem to have these near-death experiences!"). It was cute. But it made me wonder if maybe I get carried away and exaggerate. I have a fact checker on the payroll, but she may be biased. Have I had many near-death experiences? More than a "normal" person? Let's see:
--When a co-worker burned Freon gas, creating Phosgene gas (a World War I weapon). Yes!
--When a store manager mixed bleach and amonia in a confined space? No, but she passed out before we opened the windows. Don't ever mix those two.
--Getting robbed at gunpoint (with the tip of the gun barrel pressed against my cheek)? Yes! It happened the night before the 1st day of my high school senior year.
--Going on SWAT manuevers with my dad (protecting my gandma's store)? I'm going to say no, but...
--Being stalked from my school bus stop by a fellow my dad and I kicked off my grandma's property the night before. Hmmm, no. It was scary, but he was probably harmless. Probably.
--Encounters with electricity? Yes! (future post)
--Getting dizzy while standing in a tree to saw off its top? Hmmm, no. If my dad had slower reflexes and I'd actually thrown up ON him, then maybe. =)
--Run-ins with a black bloc wannabe and gang wannabees? No.
--The Halloween encounter witht he gun and the girl? Yes (to both).
--My car spinning counter-clockwise while going 50 MPH straight down the highway. Maybe, but it was FUN.
--Hitching rides on coal trains? Again, maybe, but fun.
--Being stalked and pulled over by fake cops? No, I was the one with the baseball bat.
--Getting stalked in a hardware store (my most popular post ever)? No.
--Getting stalked @ midnight on my walk home from work? No. (Future post)
--Being stalked into a subway station's small car parking lot by a crazy trucker? Yes, he was as big as a mountain. I could have easily driven away--and should have
Geez, what's with all the stalking??? Is THAT normal? Have you been stalked? It's not just me, right???
PS - There was also the night I asked the angels not to take me--I hope they were angels!!! That will be the subject of my next post.
--When a co-worker burned Freon gas, creating Phosgene gas (a World War I weapon). Yes!
--When a store manager mixed bleach and amonia in a confined space? No, but she passed out before we opened the windows. Don't ever mix those two.
--Getting robbed at gunpoint (with the tip of the gun barrel pressed against my cheek)? Yes! It happened the night before the 1st day of my high school senior year.
--Going on SWAT manuevers with my dad (protecting my gandma's store)? I'm going to say no, but...
--Being stalked from my school bus stop by a fellow my dad and I kicked off my grandma's property the night before. Hmmm, no. It was scary, but he was probably harmless. Probably.
--Encounters with electricity? Yes! (future post)
--Getting dizzy while standing in a tree to saw off its top? Hmmm, no. If my dad had slower reflexes and I'd actually thrown up ON him, then maybe. =)
--Run-ins with a black bloc wannabe and gang wannabees? No.
--The Halloween encounter witht he gun and the girl? Yes (to both).
--My car spinning counter-clockwise while going 50 MPH straight down the highway. Maybe, but it was FUN.
--Hitching rides on coal trains? Again, maybe, but fun.
--Being stalked and pulled over by fake cops? No, I was the one with the baseball bat.
--Getting stalked in a hardware store (my most popular post ever)? No.
--Getting stalked @ midnight on my walk home from work? No. (Future post)
--Being stalked into a subway station's small car parking lot by a crazy trucker? Yes, he was as big as a mountain. I could have easily driven away--and should have
Geez, what's with all the stalking??? Is THAT normal? Have you been stalked? It's not just me, right???
PS - There was also the night I asked the angels not to take me--I hope they were angels!!! That will be the subject of my next post.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Awkward Moment
For my current boss, not me. She looked embarrassed.
I've mentioned often that I've been working like a dog for months now (even more so than usual). My organization needed me and I stepped up. It's what I do. Being responsible is an old habit. I do it for me, but it usually leads to good things. This time it will not. I'm acting in place of my old boss who resigned in September (so I'm reporting to her boss now). The plan was to make the "acting" permanent. I received a temporary promotion and the official recruitment was going to be a formality. Our HR department confirmed I qualified for the job and my name was on the list of candiates to be considered. Then it all fell apart.
The Smithsonian has multiple sources of funding. Until recently I was paid from private funds. I changed jobs in May (a promotion) and became a "federal" employee (paid from from US government funds). It turns out that since I have not been in my current job for one year, I cannot be promoted again (even though I qualify for the job). If I had stayed a private employee, there would have been no problem. But once you become a fed, the rules are different. Our HR department screwed up--I'm not even eligible for the temporary promotion. So that was cancelled (I'm still doing the work). There's also an issue with "veteran's preference", but that's too complicated to get into.
Anyway, management could wait until May and promote me into the position then. But they've decided it would make them look bad. The awkward part?
As the acting head of our finance department, I attend a teleconference with our people in Panama every other Friday at 2:00pm. My boss thought she was going to use the room at 2:30, but of course I had it booked. She looked at me through the glass wall, wanting to ask me to move the meeting. She couldn't bring herself to do it.
Why did she need the room? To interview a candidate for "my job"--but I was in her way. LOL! The universe DOES have a sense of humor.
I've mentioned often that I've been working like a dog for months now (even more so than usual). My organization needed me and I stepped up. It's what I do. Being responsible is an old habit. I do it for me, but it usually leads to good things. This time it will not. I'm acting in place of my old boss who resigned in September (so I'm reporting to her boss now). The plan was to make the "acting" permanent. I received a temporary promotion and the official recruitment was going to be a formality. Our HR department confirmed I qualified for the job and my name was on the list of candiates to be considered. Then it all fell apart.
The Smithsonian has multiple sources of funding. Until recently I was paid from private funds. I changed jobs in May (a promotion) and became a "federal" employee (paid from from US government funds). It turns out that since I have not been in my current job for one year, I cannot be promoted again (even though I qualify for the job). If I had stayed a private employee, there would have been no problem. But once you become a fed, the rules are different. Our HR department screwed up--I'm not even eligible for the temporary promotion. So that was cancelled (I'm still doing the work). There's also an issue with "veteran's preference", but that's too complicated to get into.
Anyway, management could wait until May and promote me into the position then. But they've decided it would make them look bad. The awkward part?
As the acting head of our finance department, I attend a teleconference with our people in Panama every other Friday at 2:00pm. My boss thought she was going to use the room at 2:30, but of course I had it booked. She looked at me through the glass wall, wanting to ask me to move the meeting. She couldn't bring herself to do it.
Why did she need the room? To interview a candidate for "my job"--but I was in her way. LOL! The universe DOES have a sense of humor.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Guest Post - Bandit
Thursday was one of the worst days of my life. My humans called it “Thanksgiving”. But to me it was more like, “Let’s annoy Bandit”! Don’t get me wrong, I love my humans—and they REALLY need me. I’ve been trying for years to train them to play fetch. Just when I think they have the hang of it, suddenly they forget everything. I put the ball right at their feet, but they don’t know what to do with it. I give them hints by pushing at it with my paw, but it doesn’t help. Plus, I have to single-handedly scare away that maniac (blue uniform, carries letters and boxes) who passes through the neighborhood every day. And they’re not the best communicators. I understand them, but when I talk they just smile at me. Sometimes I ask if they heard me, but they just smile more. Don’t get me started on how difficult it is to walk them!!!But about Thursday, the alpha female and I got up early to start working in the kitchen. I watched carefully to make sure she didn’t drop anything. After helping her for hours, my family suddenly boxed up the food and left the house with it. What? All that work and we didn’t even eat??? Plus, I’m abandoned on a family holiday? As if that wasn’t enough, the humans left the remains of a cooked fowl sitting on the counter, out of my reach. I could smell it, but not eat it. It was maddening.
When they came home, they reeked of strange dogs. To add insult to injury, I think they gave my food to those other dogs!!!
You can see why it was such a bad day for me. **sigh** The life of dog! Well, I better sign off. I have a grooming appointment today and I think I’ll get my nails done too. Maybe get a new toy, eat, take a nap. Yes, it’s going to be a busy, busy day!
Woof-woof!
Bandit
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Thanks for Giving
It's encouraging to see the number of truly caring, giving people there are in the world. I could easily be talking about my blog friends, but in this case I'm not. =)
Like most children, my daughter started kindergarten at age 5. That same year, my son also started attending public school. He was only 3. I'll skip the details and just say he was diagnosed as "speech delayed" by an unjustifiably smug school psychologist ("Your son is too young to know the alphabet. He knows the song, but he doesn't know the letters." Over the next 30 minutes he made her eat those words. :P).
The local school district wasn't very good in general, but they did have an excellent TAG program and a great special education program. That worked out well for my kids. The closest special education center was nearby, but served most of the school district--it brought kids in from all over. My son received wonderful attention there and I received an education. My experiences at the school were a combination of very rewarding and heart-breaking.
My family was relatively poor, but we had a huge extended family that recycled clothes and shared home-grown fruits and vegetables--and we had places to hunt and fish. Thanks to all of that, I didn't know we were poor. At my son's school, I met kids who knew they were poor and who lived in areas over-run with drugs and violence. Kids who only ate at school and got most of their clothes through the school. Kids who spent the night in cars because it was safer than sleeping in their parents' crack houses. And then there were the kids who were disabled for reasons I'm not going to share. Too upsetting. I know much of the world looks down on the US for still having a death penalty, but...
Anyway, the staff at the school was amazing, teaching and helping the students every day. They gave them much more than just an education. The teachers, the office staff, the lunch lady, etc., etc., went above and beyond. As the weather turned cold, coats magically appeared. They regularly brought food in to send home with the kids--especially on Fridays. While most workers look forward to three day weekends and a break at Christmas, you could see the worry on the school employee's faces. What's going to happen to "Tommy" or "Jane" when school is closed?
As important, they also gave the kids something many of them never had before: healthy, positive attention from stable, caring, people. I'm not saying the kids' families don't love them, but many are so messed up themselves they have only negative influences to give their children. That's worse than the poverty--to me.
So, this Thanksgiving I want to say thank you to all the teachers, occupational therapists, speech therapists, secretaries, janitors, lunch ladies and yes, even the school psychologists (most of them anyway) who help disadvantaged and disabled children learn and grow. They're inspiring, special people who help inspiring, special people.
PS - And I also want to offer kudos to my blog friends--I've witnessed your generous spirits and, well, it gives me a little more hope for humanity. =)
"Imagine all the people, sharing all the world."
Like most children, my daughter started kindergarten at age 5. That same year, my son also started attending public school. He was only 3. I'll skip the details and just say he was diagnosed as "speech delayed" by an unjustifiably smug school psychologist ("Your son is too young to know the alphabet. He knows the song, but he doesn't know the letters." Over the next 30 minutes he made her eat those words. :P).
The local school district wasn't very good in general, but they did have an excellent TAG program and a great special education program. That worked out well for my kids. The closest special education center was nearby, but served most of the school district--it brought kids in from all over. My son received wonderful attention there and I received an education. My experiences at the school were a combination of very rewarding and heart-breaking.
My family was relatively poor, but we had a huge extended family that recycled clothes and shared home-grown fruits and vegetables--and we had places to hunt and fish. Thanks to all of that, I didn't know we were poor. At my son's school, I met kids who knew they were poor and who lived in areas over-run with drugs and violence. Kids who only ate at school and got most of their clothes through the school. Kids who spent the night in cars because it was safer than sleeping in their parents' crack houses. And then there were the kids who were disabled for reasons I'm not going to share. Too upsetting. I know much of the world looks down on the US for still having a death penalty, but...
Anyway, the staff at the school was amazing, teaching and helping the students every day. They gave them much more than just an education. The teachers, the office staff, the lunch lady, etc., etc., went above and beyond. As the weather turned cold, coats magically appeared. They regularly brought food in to send home with the kids--especially on Fridays. While most workers look forward to three day weekends and a break at Christmas, you could see the worry on the school employee's faces. What's going to happen to "Tommy" or "Jane" when school is closed?
As important, they also gave the kids something many of them never had before: healthy, positive attention from stable, caring, people. I'm not saying the kids' families don't love them, but many are so messed up themselves they have only negative influences to give their children. That's worse than the poverty--to me.
So, this Thanksgiving I want to say thank you to all the teachers, occupational therapists, speech therapists, secretaries, janitors, lunch ladies and yes, even the school psychologists (most of them anyway) who help disadvantaged and disabled children learn and grow. They're inspiring, special people who help inspiring, special people.
PS - And I also want to offer kudos to my blog friends--I've witnessed your generous spirits and, well, it gives me a little more hope for humanity. =)
"Imagine all the people, sharing all the world."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)