If I see that bitch, FICA, I'm going to punch her in the nose!

Growing up can be lame, sometimes even SUPER lame.  And, today, specifically, I say bagh to taxes and future me* taking ridiculously large chunks of my paychecks. 

Don’t they know that I just want to buy shoes and pay someone to make my nails look fancy?  Damn it!

This all started this morning when I wanted to find out if my new job would bump me up into a different tax bracket.^  So, while I was looking at everything from the 2011 Oregon and Federal tax brackets to Social Security and Medicare rates.  I even pulled up Oregon’s Workers’ Benefit Fund Assessment to find the employee assessment rate.  Of course, that was all after I calculated a few figures to see if I wanted to increase my 401(k) contribution. 

I had wanted to increase my contribution by about three percent until I realized that – after taxes, my flex spending contribution, my additional life insurance+ fee, my long term care fee, and my 401(k) contributions at my current contribution percentage – my HUGE raise calculates out to about $100 more per paycheck.

*Stupid 401(k) and being “responsible” in planning for my future.  Note to future me:  You better take totally awesome trips and have a super hot cabana boy, or else consider yourself warned.  Thirty-year-old me is NOT amused.

^It did.

+To my nearest and dearest - you’re welcome.  You bitches better appreciate me when I’m gone, because if you don’t – I’m going to come back to life and use my natural nails to fuck you up.

The real reason I drank last night

After embracing my breakdown and posting it to Al Gore’s Internet, my manager brought in a temp to start training at the Front Desk around 11:30 a.m. 

Coincidently, my manager sends out notifications whenever a new employee or a new temporary employee starts.  These notifications go to the facilities manager (who finds them a place to sit), tech support (to set up a computer for them), the receptionists (we set up the key cards, update the maps and phone lists), and a handful of other people.  It was thanks to the notification that I found out I would start my new job effective January 1.* 

I wasn’t the only one who was surprised by the news.  There were other people who received the same notification who weren’t aware that I was in the running for a new position, such as the facilities manager (who was concerned that I was getting shit canned) and a member of our tech support area (who cornered me during lunch to ask when I would return from my extended vacation^).

Also, my meeting with the department rep yesterday afternoon was all flowers and rainbows.  Not only am I heading over to the new department next week, but the rep presented me with my official offer letter.+

And, after a whirlwind day, I rewarded myself with beer, so much beer.

*[A temp] will be joining [us] today, December 28 as a temporary Receptionist.  She will be sitting at the front desk training and will be replacing [me] effective January 1, 2012.…

Please let me know if you have questions.

Thanks,

[Manager]

^I wish.

+It was less of an offer and more of a memo stating what my new compensation package would be.  Don’t get me wrong, I am very happy with the new package.  However, I was confused by the fact that a member of HR did not present it to me. 

I was under the impression that no one – except HR – was supposed to know how much anyone else was paid.  You know what?  It’s not my problem.  I’m pumped to head into a new department, and if HR is okay with people knowing how much I make then so am I.  I even let the rep who will be one of my managers make a copy of my offer letter for her records.  She was cced on the original memo, so I just went with it.

Top Five Things I Learned this Holiday Season

5.  Shopping early is key^

4.  Everybody loves name brand candies in their stockings

3.  People are suckers for sentimental gifts~

2.  I am the tea mix master*

1.  Post-Christmas sibling kitchen dance party is here to stay

^On December 27 (yesterday), I started to buy stocking stuffers for next year.  Okay, maybe number five should be changed to, "I'm a sucker for post-holiday sales."

~Since I bumped up the fancy factor on my home made gifts, I did magnets with all of the kid’s faces for my older half-sister’s husband and a necklace with a picture of my younger sister and her kid.  They seemed to go over really well.

                                                                                         

*I enjoy a 1:1 bag ratio of peppermint and Tazo Passion Tea over ice.  Also, a 2:1 ratio of Passion to orange juice over ice is also very enjoyable.

I know why I'm drinking tonight!

It was really starting to look like 2012 would be a banner year for yours truly, but then things stalled or are currently in the process of going horribly, horribly wrong.*

Picture it – Friday, December 2, 2011.  I’m 20 minutes away from starting my weekend when I’m called up to my manager’s office.  She’s the HR generalist, so when she told me that another department would like to offer me the job that I’ve wanted since November 2010 – I was pumped.+  I could expect to transition into the new position between December 15 and the first of the year, but since they don’t know my exact start date there isn’t an acceptance letter prepared for me which also means that I don’t know how much I’ll be earning in this new job.^  Even so, I accepted on the spot.

The following week was the holiday bazaar.  I didn’t quite make enough to pay for all of the supplies I purchased, but I couldn’t get over the fact that people were buying my pendants and magnets.  Sure, I wore them, but then again I wore the first generation of pendants.  The same pendants that screamed “home made.”  The second generation looked much more refined.  And, not only did I sell them, I even had a few custom orders.  All in all, I’d have to say that the bazaar was a success.

On December 9, the HR generalist sent out an e-mail indicating that a temp’s assignment would conclude at the end of December.  This particular temp would be leaving the group that I would be joining.  As best as I could tell, I wasn’t going to be replacing her.  I say this mostly because my new position requires licenses that her administrative roll didn’t need.  However, it’s distinctly possible that I would absorb some or all of her responsibilities.

The week of December 12 rolls around and I hadn’t heard any kind of updates about my transition into the new position or heard anything about the new acceptance letter, so I contacted the HR assistant.  She said that she would work with my current manager, but that I shouldn’t expect anything to happen that week.  We post my job opening to Craig’s List that Monday, at least things are moving along.  So, I try to go with the flow.

Despite the fact that my biggest supporter in the new department had taken to asking me daily if I knew of any developments, I was able to flow along until I realized that I’d be out on December 19 when all timesheets were due.  Since I didn’t know if my new position was salaried, I sent an e-mail to both the HR generalist and the HR assistant to find out if I needed to fill out an additional timesheet. ~  The HR assistant replied and suggested that I fill out the same old timesheet since I hadn’t been given a specific start date and we would deal with it if I transitioned during the current pay cycle.

My supporter continues to ask for updates every morning.  Since I have no new information, I notice myself becoming more agitated, frustrated, and negative.  All of these negative feelings seem to be directed toward one person, and I find it hard to determine whether everyone feels the same or if more and more people are commiserating while word vomit spews unchecked from me.

At the company holiday party, the head of what will eventually be my new department asks if I know when I’ll be joining their team.  Actually, my promotion was brought up a lot at the holiday party – and usually not by me. 

I don’t hear anything about my promotion before leaving for Christmas weekend.  So, when my family and friends ask me for details, I catch myself sharing that because it’s been over three weeks since I was informally offered the position and I don’t know anything more – maybe I don’t actually have the job.  Or, if I do have the position, I have no idea when I’ll start it.  The Craig’s List post has been up for two weeks.  We’ve received 190 applications, but no one has been interviewed.

The HR assistant told me yesterday that she’s still looking through all of the applications.  She’s not sure exactly what she’s looking for since she never really been the first person to review applications before.  She used to be the second receptionist, but was promoted in mid-October 2010.

I assumed the process with my promotion would mirror hers.  A temp started on October 18, 2010.  The woman who would eventually become the new receptionist interviewed on October 29.  And, the temp worked here until the new receptionist started on December 27.

Since I still hadn’t heard anything by yesterday and the HR generalist is out until next Thursday, I sent an e-mail yesterday asking if the plan was still for me to transition by the first of the year.  I never heard a response.  However, the temp who was supposed to mosey at the end of the year will now be here until the end of January.

Now I’m supposed to meet with someone in the new department this afternoon.  I’d be pissed, but not shocked if she was tasked with telling me that I’m not going to transition until the beginning of February.  Blurg.

It’s enough to drive a lady to drink!

*Yes, I’m being melodramatic.  Things aren’t that horribly wrong.  It’s pretty much just work that I want to punch in the face.

+The main reason that I was pumped was because it had been such a long hard road to get there.  I started talking to my manager about the position November 2010.  I asked her about a policy I had found on the company’s intranet that specified an employee had to be in their first position for one year before they could apply for a new one.  She told me not to worry about it, and actually encouraged me to set up informational interviews with people in that department or who had held that position to find out if it was something I was really interested in doing.  As it turns out, yes, it was something I was very interested in doing. 

I tried to formally apply for the position on January 6, 2011.  I didn’t receive any kind of response or indication that my application would not be considered.  So, I brought it up a week or two later.  I ran head first into the wall that required I spend one year in my current position, but she’d like to keep my application on file.

That’s when I realized that although the policy is on the books, it’s not always applied.  If I had someone who would fight to get me, I would have the opportunity to move into another position. 

When a manager approached me in February about joining the finance department, I went with it.  I never really thought about going into accounting before, but I could learn so, so much from that manager so I pursued it.  When mid-March rolled around, my substantial lack of accounting experience was too much to get around, so I shifted my attention back to the original position.

I celebrated my one year anniversary with the company in September.  I met with my manager a few weeks later to start talking about the position again.  I was encouraged to consider a more administrative position, which would “build off my strong points” and act as a stepping stone to the position I wanted.

After looking over the administrative job description and realizing that whether it would take me one or two jobs to get into a position where I could actually use my law degree – it didn’t matter as long as I got out of my current position as soon as possible.  My current situation was sucking my will to live.  I consider the job below me, find it hard to work with a certain person, and between temping and being a permanent employee – I had spent 16 months in my current position.  I firmly believed that I had paid my dues, and was ready to move onto another position.

So, I tried to schedule a meeting with the HR generalist to sit down and have a formal discussion about my career path.  I didn’t hear back so the day before the “scheduled” meeting, I sent a follow up.  Apparently, they were so, so busy, so we scheduled a meeting a week or two out for October 25.

During that meeting, I was told that interviews would be scheduled for the non-administrative position during the week of November 14.  Also, the administrative position wasn’t “officially” open, since there was a temp in the position.

I hadn’t heard anything about the interviews, so I sent a follow up e-mail on November 7.  Within a matter of hours of my follow up e-mail, my interviews had been scheduled.

^Sure, I could have asked, but the opportunity to work in a new department for a new manager and in a new job where I’d actually learn things was too much for me to pass up.  Plus, I figured that I’d know within a few weeks and I had already been informed by another that they bumped up against a none negotiation policy when they were offered another job within the company.

~This was also my way of trying to be sneaky, and see if any new developments had been made in my transition.

Oh, okay. So, I’m the unreasonable one.

The last month or so, I’ve spent all of my free time crafting.  It started off as something to do and if I created items that I wasn’t totally ashamed of, then I’d start showing them at a holiday bazaar.  The good news is that the magnets and pendants turned out really well.

Of course, I devoted quality time to researching exactly how to make glass tile pendants, because what I did a few years ago with a glue gun, glass marbles, and magazine cut outs would not cut it at a holiday bazaar held in Portland, Ore.’s Pearl District.* 

So, I dove into finding the best products for me.  I compared the online reviews of Diamond Glaze, Sun and Moon Glaze, Crystal Lacquer, Mod Podge, Aleene’s Paper Glaze, uv epoxies, and some other jewelry glaze that I found at Michael’s.  I messaged people on Etsy about their experiences with the above products.  And, I ended up doing an at home test of Diamond Glaze, Sun and Moon Glaze, Mod Podge, and the mystery Michael’s product in a side by side comparison to see the difference in consistency, clarity, and discover any residual tackiness after drying.  I settled on the Sun and Moon Glaze by Sun and Moon Craft Kits.

In the past month I have placed three orders with Sun and Moon Craft Kits – totaling $215.43 with shipping and handling.  However, I will not be placing another one with that company.  The products are great, the people seem nice enough and they do try to correct errors when the happen.  But, when order corrections need corrections and e-mails aren’t responded to in a timely manner (see: within two business days^), I need to take my business elsewhere.

The mistake I made was in sending an e-mail to Sun and Moon Craft Kits.+  When I sent the e-mail, yes, I did want to vent my frustration by not receiving a timely response to – yet again – an issue with my order, but more importantly I was hoping that Sun and Moon Craft Kits would do or say something to make it all better, like offer to send me the correct item or give me free shipping or 10 percent off of my next order.  Really, anything to take the sting away from feeling like they were ignoring my e-mails, which may have been a little long winded but indicate actual order issues.

Well, for a company who had issues getting back to me, I didn’t need to wait long for their response.~  Or, the addendum.**  Or, the addendum to the addendum.^^  The multiple rapid fire e-mails, were just too much for me.  I wanted to write back, but my coworker talked me out of it because I’d probably just make the situation worse and make Gina even more upset.

Believe it or not, I did not intend to upset Gina or anyone else at Sun and Moon Craft Kits.  And, I do really like their products.  In fact, I hope that Sun and Moon is able to implement a customer service strategy that will include a primary contact whose goal is to respond to all customer inquiries within a specific period of time and have that timeframe clearly posted on the webpage.

If you’re reading this Gina and/or Karen – I wish you nothing but the best.  Yes, you both did try to fix the issue.  But, I obviously have unreasonable expectations, so I feel like I need to take my business elsewhere.

*If you’re not familiar with The Pearl, imagine the hoity-toitiest multipurpose district (we need fancy shopping (see: Anthropology, Diesel or any organic baby clothing store), expensive condos, equally expensive office space, a distinct lack of parking, and more small dogs wearing hooded jackets than you can shake a stick at.

^Yes, that means if I send an e-mail on a Friday morning and I haven’t heard back by Tuesday – I consider that unacceptable.

+Sent Tue, Dec 20, 2011 at 9:53 AM to Sun and Moon

To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing this e-mail to inform you that I extremely disappointed in your customer service and am currently looking into other suppliers for my craft needs.

My experience with your company has soured quickly.  I only discovered your company last month and placed my first order on November 16.  To say that a lot has gone wrong in a short period of time is an understatement.

My order from November 16 included a 30x40mm vintage cabochon setting.  While placing that order, the setting page contained a link which told me for “Glass Domes for These – Click Here” and was taken to the page for the 22x30mm Oval Clear Glass Dome Cabochons.  So, those were the oval cabochons I ordered.

Upon receiving my order, I noticed that the 22x30mm oval cabochons were much too small for the settings, so on November 27 I contacted Sun and Moon Crafts Kits via the webpage.  Karen was kind enough to respond, but it took a couple of days and multiple e-mails for her to understand that I had been misdirected by the website.

I accepted the half off shipping that I was offered and placed another order on November 30 for several items including the larger oval cabochons.  (PayPal Transaction ID [].)  The only requirement for the discounted shipping was that I had to order via e-mail, which I worked with both Karen and Gina to place.

December 9th rolled around and I hadn’t received my order or a shipment confirmation, so I contacted Sun and Moon via sunandmoon@sunandmooncraftkits.com.  I didn’t receive an answer.

I tried contacting Sun and Moon again on December 13th via the same e-mail address.  Karen responded within five minutes of my e-mail to clarify that I had not received my November 30 order.  I responded shortly thereafter and didn’t hear a response within five hours, so I decided to try again.

I sent another e-mail – this time to info@sunandmooncraftkits.com.  Twenty minutes later I received a tracking number and was told that of the two Sun and Moon team members I worked with, they each thought that the other had shipped my order.

On December 16 I received my order.  I quickly noticed that I had been sent a wrong item.  I wanted five 22x30mm Vintage Cabochon Settings (http://www.sunandmooncraftkits.com/pendant-trays/vintage-cabochon-setting-22x30-005.html), but was sent five of another 22x30mm Vintage Cabochon Settings.  I didn’t even realize that you had two 22x30mm Vintage Cabochon Settings, and no one contacted me to clarify which setting I wanted. So, again, I sent an e-mail to sunandmoon@sunandmooncraftkits.com.  Here it is December 20, and I still haven’t heard back.

I understand that Sun and Moon was hit hard by the holiday rush and I imagine that it’s a very small company, but none of that changes the fact that I have had issues since the very start.  The worst part is that I really do like your products.

In fact, I’ve been able to make beautiful items using the Sun and Moon Glaze that I’ve coupled with your glass cabochons and bezel settings that I’ve sold and given as gifts.  However, when people ask about how I made them and where I purchased supplies from, I tell them about Sun and Moon Craft Kits but then I also tell them about all of the issues that I’ve had.

In short, I really wish things had been different, because I would have loved to recommend your company to my friends, family, and customers.  But, as it is right now, I can do nothing else but tell people about my experiences and encourage them to look elsewhere for their supplies.

Sincerely,

[Me]

~ Tue, Dec 20, 2011 at 10:24 AM from Sun And Moon

Well [Me],

I am sorry you feel that way because we are the type of sellers who would go out of their way to bend over backwards to help their buyers and if you do not see that then I am truly sorry. Yes the holidays have been crazy and we had to have someone new help pack orders but we will always fix an issue.

We are a small family run business and yes mistakes do happen and we always fix any issues. Yes things can get confusing when doing phone orders that is why it is best to do it through the website or etsy.

If there is something we still need to fix we will just let us know but please do not give up on us because we would do anything for our buyers. But if this is it then Merry Christmas Happy holidays and a Happy New Year. XO, Gina

** Tue, Dec 20, 2011 at 10:26 AM from Sun And Moon

Hi Tara,

I don't know what to say except that we are truly, truly sorry for all the mishaps. It really is unlike us to get it wrong multiple times & I do understand your point. Whatever, we can do to make it right, please let us know. I'm not going to make excuses of how this holiday season was tremendous. Each & every person should be taken care of as they should.

Again, my sincere apologies, & if you would like a refund please let us know how we can make it right by you.

Thank you, Karen

^^ Tue, Dec 20, 2011 at 10:31 AM from Sun And Moon

You know reading further it is very upsetting to me to think we have tried to fix your issues and we are a small company and both Karen and I will fix any problems and to say that you like our products but you are not going to say nice things about us. Will you tell them we tried? You know I make mistakes and I worked on orders but truly whatever mistakes happen we will fix. So I am very hurt now. I try and treat everyone like they are a part of our family like on our Facebook page where we ask that buyers post links to their shops to get recognition so they can show the world what they have. We are here for the buyers and let me tell you I have busted my but and neglected my children at times to make sun and moon work. Yes we do make mistakes as you clearly state but truly can not understand how during the holiday season you can not forgive and understand. Yet you tell me that you will not give any good news of my shop. Very hurt here. Gina

I am not Amused

Do you hear that world?  I am not amused!

Thing hugely horrible went wrong in the past 24 hours, but enough small things have driven me to consume a respectable amount of pasta, cheesy garlic bread, and wine.  Sure, the wine was in a Pabst's Blue Ribbon mug and the rest was, well, dinner, but I seriously considered buying two different cheese cakes and consuming them both.

Let's start from the beginning.  I use Feline Pine, which is a flushable cat litter.  Last night while cleaning up after my cats, my toilet overflowed.  I was annoyed when I had to use a new clean towel to clean up the mess, AND now that freaking towel has been hanging up the entire day and it's no less damp.

Fast forward a few hours and I wake up at 3 a.m. holding my cookie.*  I discover a big ass bug bite the size of a Milk Dud.  Ninety minutes later, when I actually had to get up for work, I notice that the bite is still there (albeit smaller) and I realize that it's most likely a spider bite.

Mother fucker!

The most action that my cookie's seen in over 13 months, and it's a mother fucking spider.  Not cool!

After getting ready and making the magic that is my glorious face happen, I realize that I'm a couple of minutes late heading out the door.  So, I walk a littler faster than usual and the first thing I notice is that the seam of my pants is fighting with the spider bite.

At work, things are busier than usual.  About 12 people show up who aren't expected, and it's too early for their contacts to be in the office.  In short, it's a cluster.

Mid-morning rolls around and two people show up with a project for me.  Listen, I love actually working while at work.  The fact that there's so much down time in my current position is one of the many reasons I'm so excited to possibly move on. 

The problem trying to work through that this particular project is an employee benefits informational packet I spent six weeks working on last spring.  I pool resources.  I developed and elaborated upon topics, and eventually developed one document.   I wrapped up everything by June and passed it on so the higher ups could decide if they wanted to make any changes or even use it.

Last month these two particular people called me into their office and reclaimed all of the original documents I had used as resources, so that they could be given to new hires.  This morning they come down and tell me that they need me to change 70 pages of fonts, font sizes, line spacing, and to undo what the company's style guide had directed me to capitalize. 

It wouldn't have been a problem if I could have just hit select all and made the same changes to the entire document.  However, because there are headings, subheadings, Excel documents that had been imported, graphs and images that also needed to be changed, and it just kept going.  Oh, and did I mention that my deadline was less that 24 hours, because they had run out of every single one of the  new hire benefit packets that the company had been using for the last seven years?

The good news is that I'm almost done with that little project.  My retinas feel as though they have been burnt by staring through the computer screen all day, my bug bite is a little smaller, and at least I'm not spending the day cutting ribbon, which is exactly what I did one day last week.

Okay, and now for the really good news.  It's not a sure thing, but over the last two weeks I have been through five interviews for a new position with my company.  All five gave me the thumbs up, and now the decision rests with the HR Department.  I'm cautiously optimistic, because at this point it's a toss up.  My wishful thinking is enough to keep me from drinking multiple bottles of wine or exchanging my laundry money for baked goods, or worse of all - mouthing off to the people who gave me this little copy editing, because these same people have given my manager additional reasons to question whether she should recommend me for this other position.  Yes, I'm talking about any and all of the issues I've already described in a previous post.

All I can really say is - I am not amused.  Okay, maybe a little.

* Yes, I'm talking about my vagina.  I'm trying a pet name for it.  Mostly because I like saying, "All the boys want to get their hands on my cookie."

Reason 129 Why I Don't Date

In a word - me.  I am reason 129 why I don't date.

I set up for an OkCupid account over a year ago.  Within two days, I had received three messages.  All of them offering no strings attached sex.  Needless to say, but, I deactivated my account within the first 48 hours.

Fast forward to last month.  I had given up on all of my regular way of meeting new people (see: Craig's List), and since I was no longer in school or at a minimum wage job (which leads to drinking buddies, which in turn may lead to make out buddies) I was up a creek.  And, by "creek," I mean a Class VI river with a waterfall just around the bend, which would lead to an endless supply of lonely nights and an equal number of cats.

Based on a recommendation of a few coworkers, ex-roommates, and people generally concerned about me eating my feelings or trying to fill the void with four legged vomit makers - I started a new OkCupid account.

For the first month, I neglected to complete any of the personal essays.  All I had posted were photos and all of the quizzes I had taken.  Of course, that didn't stop the pervs or creepsters from messaging me.

About a week ago, I decided to suck it up and fill out the essays.  I still hadn't responded to a message until I received the following message.


Him:  Sigh. Did you join OkCupid just so you could find people to have sex with? An image of [you] Yes This was a little depressing, since I thought your profile was interesting otherwise. Cheers.


[It  was Sunday.  I was bored.  And, I was in the mood for a little confrontation.  So, I responded.]


Me:  No, I can't say that was my goal for joining although I've declined several offers to do exactly that.   I may be wrong, but the impression I get from both your message and your profile is that you're not looking to do anything more than send anonymous messages.  On that note, I would encourage you to make a fake profile and see if you can get the same amount of attention as Amanda from Seattle (whomever that may be), because maybe then you could laugh a little about the ridiculousness that is OkCupid.


Him:  Well, my intention was to meet someone, and maybe have something happen. After talking to many, many people on here over the years, I realize that approximately everything women say they're looking for (sense of humour, kindness, a decent income), they're not really looking for. Or they don't remotely get my sense of humour, which, in fairness, puts them in the majority with about 80% of the planet. But, what I've learnt most of all on here is, as a 32 year old with rather limited sexual experience, I should really just totally give up. Because women don't want someone who doesn't really know what they're doing in that realm, and that's really what it all comes down to. Personality? F**k that. Cheers!


Me:  I'm enough shades of bitter and jaded to understand from where you're coming.  Trust me, I get the frustration of dating.   It sucks, but there's a reason why we keep at it.  Everyone thinks that they want one thing, but in the end they end up with exactly what they need (and often times deserve).  All I can do is speak for myself, and when I find myself in a sea of smelly boys with ironic mustaches wearing skinny jeans who prefer Pabst Blue Ribbon to Smithwick's or a nice microbrew - it makes me want to shutter my lady parts and adopt cats.  And, that's before I even say hello.  Also, a word to the wise, when you come off like a tool (or if you prefer - wanker) it will probably make the small portion of the female population run for the hills who would otherwise get your humor, are also looking for more than casual sex, and fit the other things you want and/or need for a healthy relationship.


Him:  Ha, that's the best part, is that I don't even know how I come off as a tool. Well, in the case of your message, sure, I can see that. I'm usually not that ridiculous with them. Generally, I try and find something in the profile to start a conversation about. That never works. And I don't get the PBR thing. It's a terrible beer, crikey.


[He revamped his personal essays.]


Him:  There you go. Far less anonymous, probably even more tool like. Cheers.


Me:  Congrats, sir.  It's like you're a real person!  I wouldn't say that it's tool like.  You’re letting your nerd flag fly, and that’s a good thing.  Also, I like to refer to soccer as “the world’s football.”


Him:  I changed it because I actually found an actual person I actually found actually interesting.  Needless to say, she didn't respond to my message. lol. Anyways, Real Football = Best Sport in the World. Re-watching England upset Spain right now in fact. Yay!


Me:  Awe snap!  You sure know how to make a lady feel special.  I can't say that I'm into sports, and this comes after having a work study job in undergrad with the Sports Video Department for three years and (I'm proud to say) this week I'm ranked number one (out of 55) in my company's college football pool.  So, it's not that I don't understand sports; it's just that I'd rather be playing with shiny things or stickers. :)


Him:  Hahaha, that came across horribly huh?  I'm CLASSY occasionally like that, crikey.  What kind of shiny things?  That sounds, um, potentially fatal...haha


Me:  Oh, I'm just playing.  And, I'll let you in on a little secret - girls and raccoons have more in common than you may believe.


Him:  They're both thieving bastards who like to play in the garbage and make great hats?


Me:  I'll have you know that I grew out of playing in filth.   Last weekend.  Side note, I feel like we should talk about your lady hat collection.  Also, I'm going to start referring to you as "Buffalo Bill."

Him:  "Buffalo Bill"? Interesting. I am, sadly, not actually a cowboy though. And I'm pretty sure I have no lady hat collection. Only good, solid, manly hats, like Baseball caps and Fuzzy hats that definitely don't have that little ball on top.

[I thought that I was being funny.  However, the prospect of explaining to Him that not only 1) was Buffalo Bill a character from The Silence of the Lambs, but he was THE character who said, “It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again,” and 2) by “lady hat” I didn’t mean hats made for ladies, but instead hats made FROM ladies – I realize that this isn’t going to end well.  Given the above and the fact that I was getting bored with the situation already, I decided not to respond at all.

Yeah, so I’ve decided to start a pool.  Please feel free to guess when I will get my next cat.  If you win, I’ll let you name it.]

HEY! I'M WALKIN' HERE!!!

Earlier this week a car rolled into me while I was crossing the street, since then my inner Bronxite has broken out of its shackles and there is no turning back.  Today I had my own version of a Midnight Cowboy scene while heading home from Fred Meyer's.

There isn't a traffic light where NW 20th Place meets NW Everett Street, but there is a pedestrian crossing light.~  The genius with a disabled parking permit hanging from their rear view mirror* tried to turn onto Everett without stopping.  I mucked things up, because I was in the intersection.

I still had three or four seconds left even though the pedestrian crossing light was flashing.^  So, when you didn't stop before pulling onto Everett and honked your horn while pointing to the pedestrian crossing light - I felt justified in doing the glare/finger shaking combo while yelling at YOU to stop.

Huh.  On the other hand, I feel like I should thank you and the woman who hit me on Tuesday for fulling introducing me to the world of pedestrian road rage.



~There is a light for the traffic driving east on NW Everett, but not for the traffic turning onto to Everett from NW 20th Place.  I don't get it either, but I'm assuming that it's a cost saving measure that assumed the traffic on 20th Place would come to a complete before turning onto Everett.

*I get it.  You can't be bothered to remove your disabled parking placard from your rear view mirror even when you're driving.  (You think you're too busy and important.  After all, how dare a pedestrian cross the street when you want to drive through a stop sign without stopping, right?)  Well, as someone who's parents have had disabled parking permits for the better part of two decades - I know that you're supposed to remove the placard from your rear view mirror when driving your vehicle.  In case you missed it while applying for the placard, I'd like to redirect your attention to the DMV Instructions and Regulations for Disabled Person Parking Permit.  Please read the Parking Regulations section.  Actually, you don't even have to read the entire section.  Just read the last sentence of the first paragraph.  Go ahead.  I'll wait.

^If you've been lucky enough to walk anywhere with me, you'd know that three or four seconds is all I need to cross the street.

Why Women Shouldn’t Drive

Or, more specifically:  Why the woman who rolled her car into me while I was crossing the street shouldn’t drive.

Well, the first reason that comes to mind is –YOU ROLLED YOUR CAR INTO ME WHILE I WAS CROSSING THE STREET!

Listen, I get it.  Driving in The Pearl can be a pain in the tookus, but there’s no reason for blocking the box.  You made the conscious decision sit in the center of the intersection, so you could make that light.  You still couldn’t move when I got the walk signal, so I walked in front of your car.  Even though I was over 75 percent of the way across the street, I still hadn’t cleared your bumper,* and the cars in front of you started to move, so you rolled into me.

It was a nice day.  I had my bright orange coat over my right arm and a cream sweater on.  I’ve been told that my sweater bunnies are hard to miss given their size and when coupled with the rest of me – I am hardly a wisp of a woman.  When I yelled out, “HEY!” and craned my neck to glare at you, you didn’t appear to be talking on your cell phone, texting, or otherwise distracted. 

It was 3:40 p.m. on a warm, sunny Tuesday, so I have one important question to ask.  Why didn’t you see me? 

I’m sure you have an answer but I really don’t want to hear it, because there’s no excuse for not paying attention while driving a boat of a car.  A lot of things could have happened.  What if I hadn’t been from sturdy breeding stock?  What if I had an old powderpuff football injury?  What if I had brittle bone disease?  You could have seriously hurt someone!

Luckily, I wasn’t hurt.  But, given the height of your bumper, I could feel your car push my knee out of place.  Let’s just say that I felt shocked and violated.  And, then when you mouthed, “I’m sorry,” while continuing to roll into me^ – anger overtook my other emotions.

I couldn’t tell if I was more with you or with myself for not throwing my belongings to the ground, slamming my fists on the hood of your car and yelling, “I’M WALKING HERE!”  Because, I can only hope that I never ever run into a situation like this again.

*Seriously, woman, where did you learn to drive?  Because, your car was positioned like you were trying to start your own third lane on NW Glisan St.

^Since you obviously seem unaware of your surroundings, I can’t be the first one to say this – but, if I am then it’s time that you know – you’re a horrible driver.

Reason 396: Why I hate Oregon

The damned Oregon DMV.

Yes, I have an out of state license.  No, I’m not going to tell you how long it’s taken me to get around to replacing it. 

I don’t have a car, so I didn’t have to deal with registering a car in a new state or tags expiring.   Even though I don’t own a car, I have rented one and used ZipCar since moving to Oregon.  But, other than that, my license has primarily been used to buy booze over the last two and a half years.

Seriously, I’m in no rush to switch over to an Oregon license.*  Since I know that it’s something I’ll need to do, I’ve been doing research here and looking through the Oregon DMV’s convoluted website there.  I’m not the type of person to put things off until the very last minute and then have a full blow meltdown when it doesn’t go my way.  I slowly chip away at projects.^

After I struck up a conversation with a New York State transplant who told me he had to take a behind the wheel test before receiving his Oregon license – I’ve been harboring resentment for the entire process.+  Couple that with the fact that I wasn’t able to find anything on the Oregon DMV website that clearly identifies requirements for swapping my New Hampshire license for an Oregon one.

Sometimes I miss the simple ways of New Hampshire – granite outcroppings along the highway, nor'easters that would extend for days, icicles the size of my leg, doing whatever I wanted and then screaming “Live free or die,” and foliage the colors of fire.  So, pretty much like Vermont, only upside down.  But, what New Hampshire totally has over Oregon is that New Hampshire took my money and Oregon license and giving me a New Hampshire license in return.

It was so simple and so, so easy.

Yesterday, a coworker went to the DMV to renew her license and was kind enough to find out that I have to retest to switch out my valid out-of-state license for an Oregon license.  After talking my youngest sister into letting me borrow her car for the behind the wheel test, I decided to do it while I’m in small town Oregon for my mother’s birthday.  So, I call up the McMinnvillle DMV and upset either Patty or Selma Bouvier.  After being told the difference between an out-of-state license and an out-of-state ID, I find out that since I have a valid out-of state license I need to take the written test and not the behind the wheel test.**

So, now I just need a cute hair day to coincide with a day I’m motivated to go to the DMV. ^^

*1) My New Hampshire license doesn’t expire until next June, 2) For my particular case, I think it’d be a waste of money to make the switch too soon, and 3) Having an out of state license not only makes me feel special, but it also subconsciously protects me from facing the fact that I’m living in Oregon – again.

^Like Chinese water torture or herpes.

+Make retesting number four on the list of reasons why I’m not super motivated to embrace residency in Oregon.

**Pain.  In.  My.  Ass.

^^Since I’m complaining about the Oregon DMV, why don’t they get on Arizona’s bandwagon and issue licenses that expire when you turn 65-years-old?++  Sure, they need to go in for a photo day every so often, but I’d be more than okay with that!

++Look at number 37 on the Arizona Department of Transportation page.

For a girl … I’m doing okay!

It’s not that I’m a girl that makes it so surprising that this week I’m ranked number one in my company’s college football pool.  It’s more the fact that out of the 56 people in this year’s pool, it’s possible that I’m the most sportastically* challenged^ person participating.

What can I say?  The allure of a free airline ticket coupled with a $0 entry fee was too much for my impulse control.+  So, I looked at the preseason USA Today Coaches Poll, read all about the BCS selection procedures, researched the coaches, and blah, blah, blah.

Seriously, if I had made my selections based on school colors – it would have been a lot easier…

*Yes, “sportasticlly” is NOW a word.

^Okay, I’m not actually challenged.  It’s that I don’t care.

Take, for example, the conversation that I’ve had too many times with coworkers and visitors (usually on days when my company is “College Football Casual” or “Collegiate Casual” (yes, that’s a thing my company does a couple of times a year) and I’m wearing a black t-shirt over an old Halloween t-shirt – complete with black cat – that I got on clearance from Old Navy last year):

Them:  Your Beavers are playing this weekend.

Me:  They are?

Yes, I worked for OSU’s Sports Video Department for three years in college.  I’d chitchat with jocks in class and around the sports arena – and, yes Halley, I’d judge them for wearing sweatpants to class

+Anyone who’s seen me around baked goods (even vegan baked goods) should know that I have very little impulse control.

Reason 456 Why I Hate Portland

As a native Oregonian, I have a love hate relationship with the entire state.  I keep trying to get out, but so far I also keep coming back. 

Regardless of where I go (Minnesota, Illinois, New Hampshire, etc.), I’m usually the “crazy liberal chick.”  I recycle.  I avoid Wal-Mart like the plague.  I’ve been disillusioned with both the Democrat and Republican parties,* so I’m a registered independent.  I was in New Hampshire for the 2008 primary and was able to vote in the First-in-the-Nation Presidential Primary,+ and I was able to vote for Bill Richardson.#  However, step into the bike riding, part-time working, sandals with sock wearing hipster mecca that is Portland, Ore., I might as well be Ann Coulter.

It’s hard to say that I agree with the Occupy Wall Street movement, since as of yet it doesn’t have a well defined definition.  Participants have each brought their own purpose to march – social awareness, discontent with financial and/or political systems, or just an enthusiasm for demonstration.  Honestly, the potpourri of causes reminds me a little of PCU – protesting just to protest. 

But, I have to ask – for as much as Occupy Wall Street’s website talks about the American Dream or Adbusters states that the movement began in America – why does everything have its roots in the great white north?  Adbusters put out the call to occupy Wall Street on July 13, 2011.  For those of you who don’t know, Adbusters is a not-for-profit based in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. 

Occupy Portland’s website is crying foul over a “False Press Release,” that they’ve traced back to Vannet Technology in Burnaby, British Columbia, Canada.  It may have been over looked that that this press release could be the real deal.  Sure, it might be a great fake, but to me it sounds it was written by the same people who create the website content.  Who else talks about where “Saturday Market touches the river”?  And, I’d like to point out that Vannet Technology offers a free online fax service.  For a group who has FaceBook, Wikipedia, and an internet committee, I think it’d be ridiculous to imagine a member of this group to walk down to the nearest FedEx Kinko’s and pay to fax a press release.  Plus, using a free service that can be traced to another country does provide a comforting blanket of deniability.  So, we’re not even going to get into whether Occupy Portland has a permit to march today (as best I can tell from their message forum – they don’t) or if the other claims in the press release have any tidbits of truth to them.

Maybe I’d be more involved with the local movement if: I was one of those people who only worked part-time at a coffee house, because fulltime work interfered with my busy social schedule.  Or, if I made a conscious decision not to vote, but spend the rest of the year complaining about the people who were elected.  (This is a thing.  One of my ex-roommates during the 2004 general election did this.) 

But, I’m not. 

If their dissatisfaction with the current government system, heath care, financial industry, or whatever is so substantial – they should change it.  Yes, a protest is a great way to go, but get the flipping permit.  Y’all realize that you’re going to put a substantial strain on the Portland Police Department’s resources, right?  The organizers COULD work with PPD to make the protest a safe place for the children and families that it’s calling upon to show up today.

But, Occupy Portland is not.

So, I will quote to Occupy Portland from The Big Lebowski, “My advice is to do what your parents did; get a job, sir.…” 

*It started off with 18-year-old me not knowing the difference between the two.  My mother was a Democrat and my father a Republican.  The only reason either had for their party selection was because that was also their parents’ party.  My parents both liked voting in the primaries, but they were both equally opportunity voters when it came to general elections.  Take, for example, my father.  He talked buckets full of smack about President Clinton during his first term, but then my father voted to reelect Clinton in 1996. 

In short, I knew I wanted to vote in the 2000 general election, but in my mind the Democrat and Republican parties were pretty much the same thing and nearly interchangeable.  To an extent, I still feel that way.  I believe that both parties are too caught up in the spectacle that has become “entertainment politics” (see: Sarah Palin or any political impasse over the last decade or even the past year (see: the 2011 federal government shutdown or the fiasco in Wisconsin this spring that had Democrats fleeing the state) to actually work together and come to mutually beneficial resolutions.

My problem with the Democrat and Republican parties has its roots in the 2004 election cycle.  I had just moved back to Oregon and needed to reregister to vote.  While walking home from the bus I crossed paths with someone doing voter registration at Last Thursday, so I registered to vote and mark the box to be an independent/unaffiliated/not a member of a party, and hand it back to the nice lady.  Magically, I was added to the Democrat mailing list and phone tree.

Since Oregon allows people to vote by mail, I had my ballot all set to be mailed off a few weeks before the election deadline when there was a knock on my door.  There was a young clean cut guy going door to door collecting ballots and offering “to be drop it off for you.”  Weird, right? 

Well, a few hours before the polls officially closed the doors on the allegations of election and voter fraud, I received a frantic voicemail from the local Democrat phone bank indicating that my ballot had never been received.  Even weirder, right?

+As a registered Democrat for the whole five minutes it took to vote.  Of course, I reregistered as unaffiliated while walking out of the room.

#Bill Richardson is still the first and only presidential candidate that I have been really excited about.

Crazy? Yes, but I’ve got skills! Or, The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades, or A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum...

Since my company has national clients, the front desk is open from 6:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. PST and the average work day falls somewhere in that time range.  My work day runs from 6:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m.  I like to think that I keep Midwest hours; because that prevents me from thinking about how early I actually have to wake up.  Sure, there are downsides to waking up between 4:30 and 5 a.m., like having the same social availability as an elementary school student, but there’s also a hidden benefit.

During my commute, I experience a world entirely hidden from the 9 to 5 crowd.  I’ve had this schedule for nearly a year, and in that time I’ve seen:

·    My neighbors returning from late night parties*

·    Transients exchanging morning pleasantries in Couch Park

·    A different transient pooping in a flower bed

·    The rotating faces of other transients as they set up to panhandle at the I-405 Glisan off ramp

·    The Sweeper~

·    Morning delivery of The Oregonian

·    Employees warming up the grill at Byways Cafe

·    Construction workers picketing near the old Meier & Frank Depot/new North American Vestas headquarters building.+

·    Still other transients sleeping under art gallery awnings and on the delivery docks along NW 13^th Avenue

·    Bread baking at the Pearl Bakery

·    MillerCoors brands being delivered to Whole Foods

·    A Pearl Bakery delivery van driving the three blocks to Whole Foods to deliver bread

In short, I notice all sorts during my morning walk to work.  However, it wasn’t until this morning when I heard one from two blocks away that I realized I hadn’t seen a child during my excursions.  And, you know what?  I realized that I hadn’t missed them at all.  Additionally, my mornings are so very pleasant without their sticky hands and bubblegum smell that it felt like an intrusion. 

Yes, I know I’m well on my way to becoming a crazy cat lady.  If my future is between embracing the CCL way of life or turning into Old Mother Hubbard – I say bring on the cats!

    

                                                                                                                                       

*First I get upset and disappointed in myself at having never stayed out until 6 a.m. unless I was working a graveyard shift, but then I remember that these neighbors are in their early 20s and if they keep up this kind of behavior they will not have the fabulous skin I have when they reach their 30s.

~The Sweeper won’t talk to anyone but himself, so I’m not sure about his story.  However, he’s an older guy that wears a black hat with earflaps year round.  Most mornings I see him diligently sweeping or cleaning out storm drains around NW 15th Avenue and Glisan.  The Sweeper doesn’t appear to have loyalty to specific stores, because I’ve seen him sweep the street, sidewalk, and parking lots in front of businesses and empty storefronts.  The location seems more important than the specific business.  I can usually find him on either on NW 15^th or 14^th Avenues and within a block of Glisan.

I don’t know if the businesses in that area (e.g., Premier Press, Touché, Hawaiian Time, and FASTSIGNS) are aware of The Sweeper, but if they are then I hope they supplement his broom addiction since the companies are benefiting from The Sweeper’s efforts.

+I was unable to tell exactly what was being picketed since the group was still getting organized when I walked by.  Plus, they were congregating across the street from the old Meier & Frank building, in front of the storefront at 1437 NW Flanders St., Portland, Ore., which (as far as I could tell) was also under renovation.  There was a decent sized florescent orange and green wearing crowd gathering and holding picket signs.  A group that may have been too large to fit comfortably into the storefront at 1437 NW Flanders, so I may never know exactly what prompted these men and women to congregate on a weekday before 6:30 a.m.