It was supposed to be a 2 year gig

Eight and a half years ago I took a travelng job. I was pregnant at the time and my husband and I made the choice that I would work while he stayed home with our daughter. We thought it would be a short time thing and the money and experience was good so off I went to a job where I have traveled to:

Perry, GA - great donuts

Atlanta, GA - great family

Fort Walton Beach, FL (in the winter) - great view of the ocean from my hotel room

Houston, TX - great humidity

St. Petersburg, FL  - great ocean

Dallas, TX - great sangria

West Palm Beach, FL - great nutritional supplements

Miami, FL - great hotel

Raleigh, NC - great PITA

Memphis, TN - another great PITA

Chicago, IL - great city!

Troy, MI - I wasn't there long enough to form an opinion

Colorado Springs, CO - so beautiful

Newark, NJ - NYC is right next door! What could be better than NYC on an expense account?

Washington, DC - one of my favorite cities

I might be missing a city or two but you get the gist of it. 

I received my letter to start a non-traveling job. I will be working form my home office.

I will be working normal hours and if I work overtime, I get paid overtime.

I will get to sleep in my own bed everynight.

I will get to see my husband and daughter every day and my friends and family any day of the week.

4 more weeks and my 'I think I will do this for 2 years' job will be over.

yeah!!!!!!!!

Growing Up

I was going to write a post about voting and the fact that NOMATTER WHAT, history is made, but instead I am going to post about my first apartment as an adult.

When I was 26, I got my first apartment. I had lived by myself before but there was either parental funding or roommates in the mix. There was always some sort of financial back up. This was my first 'all by myself' apartment. The apartment was in an old brick 4 square about a half mile from where I live now. I lived upstairs. It had 4 rooms: a living room, a galley kitchen, a galley bathroom and a bedroom, maybe 600 sq ft. It ran $325 a month. There was a large front porch that I shared with my next door neighbor. I loved it. My boyfriend at the time helped me find it and move in. He lived in Chattanooga, attending a college there and our relationship was new enough that it was best that he was there and I was in Asheville. He would come to visit on the weekends and we had a blast in that apartment. I had friends come over all the time and became friends with my neighbors.

When I first moved in, I remember the aforementioned boyfriend and I were up late talking. I didn't have a job at the time. I had just finished a seasonal position working with adjudicated youth in a wilderness environment (hoods in the woods) and was terrified that I would be able to make ends meet. Terrified. My only expense was rent and about $25 a month in utilities. I owned my car, I didn't have credit cards and yet I was still terrified I would not be able to make ends meet. In the past I never really thought about being self-sufficient. I looked in the paper and eventually got a temp job where the main requirement was the ability use Excel. I embellished my experience and figured it out as I went. I used it a little in college but was not proficient. That led to a full time position which led to a job as an analyst which led to implementing ERP systems which led to consulting other companies to implement ERP systems which led to me currently owning my own consulting company. As my career progressed, my ability to save money and contribute more (via taxes, mostly) grew as well. My independence grew, my self reliance grew and my abilities grew. It all started with the desire to scrape together enough to make ends meet. Some people would call this the American dream. I just wanted my apartment.

Anyway, that boyfriend, he's now my husband. And today, 8 years ago, I agreed to marry him. Happy anniversary, Sweet Heart. It just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?

Today is the anniversary of my mother’s birth. She would have been 73 today. Tonight I am going to toast her with a glass of champagne and I think everyone who reads this blog should too because she was a pretty kick ass mom and person. If you knew her, you would probably agree.
Tomorrow is my brother’s 40th birthday. He is currently boating in the Grand Canyon so will not be around but did assure me they were going to have a Halloween party so even though I completely failed as a little sister (no surprise party, etc…) he will have fun regardless. My brother is not someone I blog about for all sorts of reasons but everyone should toast his birthday too. More champagne for everyone!
Finally, I am not sure how much I will be blogging because my laptop’s fan died so I am using a work desktop at the client and our home desk top and I like my laptop. It’s a nice security blanket and I am definitely a creature of habit and comfort. I also just realized that I didn’t post all week. Ugh.
The dog is responding well to the shot the vet gave her. Now she puts weight on the knee and it gives out. Not good. Seeing the vet tomorrow, we’ll see what she says.

Jenise

Today we go to the vet to see if there is anything else we can do for my dog's failing hips. When I got home last night she couldn't walk, her hips kept giving out. Today she is wobbly but walking and clearly in pain even with the wonder meds that we have been giving her.

When I was 10 we had to put my shepherd down because his hips failed. We let it go to long because his mind was fine. 27 years later and I am in the same situation my mother was in. Smart dog, aware dog, decrepit hips. 

Quality of life issues suck. At least when it is a person, they can let you know what they would want in this position. All my dog tells me is that she wants some of my pesto noodles.

Update:

She has ruptured the tendons on her left knee. They could surgically fix it but it won't help the fact that she has arthritis and mylopathy, which is a degeneration of the spinal cord. The doctor doesn't think surgery is the right plan. So, more pain killers and a weekly shot to help lubricate the joints around her knees and hips and waiting. The mylopathy sucks because she will be alert and aware the whole time she loses her ability to walk and move. Her brain is outliving her body.

Because I Always Wanted to be a Pollster

Look on the left side of my blog. I have a little poll over there. Yes, I am making you come to the blog instead of reading it in your reader. I am a harsh task mistress.

Today I sent money to Larry Kissell, who is running against Robin Hayes, a man who believes I am not a good American. I am sick of being told that because I am educated, I am elitist. I am sick of being told that my lack of religion makes me unamerican. I am sick of being told that liberals don't work hard or know what sacrifice means. So when I hear that someone says “liberals hate real Americans that work and accomplish and achieve and believe in God”  I do what I can to defeat that person. Since I can't vote against him, I give money to the person running against him.  I am educated. I am not Christian. I work my ass off. I take great pride in my family and my life. I am proud that America's strength is that we are allowed to think for ourselves and form our own opinions and vote accordingly, even if I don't always agree with how my fellow Americans vote. I take great offense when someone tells me I am unamerican because I don't believe what someone else believes. 

Have I mentioned that I can't wait until the election is over?

This is a picture of Noodle wearing my mother's cashmere sweater that I inherited when she passed. We were waiting for a homecoming parade that took place in Weaverville, NC. Noodle calls it the 'Mimi Hugs' sweater because it is so soft and snuggly and that's is how she wants to remember her grandmother, as soft and snuggly. I remember her that way too.

Fingers Crossed

I read a few Asheville blogs, all of which are fantastic in the own right (Llew is an honorary Ashevillian). There is one that has lots of information handy for people like me (that would be someone who doesn't read the local crappy paper or watch the local news).  As I have mentioned to ANYONE who will listen, I am not insurable. One or two people have privately asked me what terminal illness I have so I will let you know the whole story. 

A few years ago my husband and I decided to use some sort of birth control besides baby roulette. We agreed, after a long debate, on the pill but since I was approaching late 30's and my mom had a few blood clots, I informed my doctor. She said 'No Problem, we'll do some tests, no biggie.' So I donated 8 vials of blood and found out I had some thing called Factor V Leiden. There are 2 types, one serious, one not so serious and I have the not so serious kind. The doctor told me I was very lucky I had an easy pregnancy, that I should never take an female hormones, I should exercise and drink lots of water. I have never had a problem with this condition and I don't take any medication and we have decided to only have one biological child so no more complicated pregnancies. 

Fast forward to this spring when I decided to start my own company. When I tried to procure health insurance the only company that would cover me was going to charge me $15,000 a year and that was with a $5000 deductible. I can get a plan with a rider but when the pre-existing condition is blood based, you spend a lot of time fighting with insurance companies about what is covered.

The petulant child in me doesn't like when people tell me I can't have something, especially something like health insurance.

This morning I read a post from one of the very awesome Asheville blogs saying that North Carolina now has a plan for high risk individuals. I was the 46th applicant. If all goes well, I will have insurance January 1 and my pre-existing condition will be cover July 1. Now, there are a few problems. They didn't list my condition as an automatic coverage illness (AIDS, attempted suicide and diabetes are automatically covered) and there have been some gaps in my coverage since no one will insure me but I HOPE I will get the insurance. 

So please, everyone, cross your fingers or rub the Buddha belly or say a little prayer or something that I qualify for this because otherwise I am not sure what we are going to do besides put all our savings into an account for what happens if I do have a blood clot.

That is a picture of the Asheville skyline. Pretty, isn't it? Sunrises and sunsets make me hopeful. Lots of things make me hopeful these days.

Vacation is Over

I didn't really have a long vacation, I just haven't posted for 3 months. Vacation was great. We got 6 inches of rain in 6 days, played copious amount of backgammon, ate copious amounts of lobster and took care a remarkably sick little girl (who then shared with the rest of us, she is so sweet). Kara took this picture of me and her husband. We both had lobster in front of us, how could we not smile like fools?

Since the end of July I have been really busy with work, my  husband has also been really busy with work and my daughter has been really busy with school. She has this passion to write books right now which is pretty cute. She keeps getting these great opening lines like 'On April 17th I was born. and. died' (that one is about a ghost). Another one was 'Who knew a Friday could be such an adventure?' That is the opening to a memoir. 

Since the end of July I have also been told that I am not insurable. I have a blood disorder that I inherited from my mom that has never been treated and never given me any complications but insurance companies won't insure me because of it. I have about a 5% higher chance of getting a blood clot than the average Josephine and that makes me uninsurable. So stupid.

I brought my brother to see David Byrne a few weeks ago. The concert was fantastic. If he comes to your town, go see the concert. Between the choreography and the set list, we were in heaven. My brother turns 40 in 2 weeks. Aren't we just getting old.

My dog continues a slow decline. She is becoming incontinent and can't get down stairs anymore. The other night I actually slept with her on her bed. She is alert and happy and doesn't seem to be in pain, she just isn't moving well.

The elections are pretty exciting. James Taylor came to Asheville and played a free concert for a Obama Rally. It was great. Asheville is an Obama strong hold. He came a few weeks ago and there were reports that up to 30000 people came to the rally. The city population is only 75000. It is pretty cool to live in a battleground state. I grew up in a very blue state and then lived in NC which has been a pretty red state. A storm is brewing in North Carolina, and it is exciting. With that said, I wish the elections were OVER. 

Does anyone really believe that there are actually undecided voters at this point? Seriously...

Finally, I have been having a ton of fun on Facebook these days. I posted some youthful pictures and all sorts of commenters have popped up out of the woodwork. Such a blast.

PS - I changed my banner for the first time ever. That is the city I currently work in. I am pretty sure that is the buiding I work in. Pretty cool...

Vacation

I am going to Maine (via Atlanta and Boston) to be with Kara tomorrow. I will be there for a few weeks. Kara was my first roommate, we were 15. She is one of my best friends because basically she pretty much is awesome. so is her husband. so is her daughter. so are her friends. I suck as a blogger since I have been home and had LOTS of blog fodder but whatever, my blog, move on.
And with that I leave you with my fabulous 7's (my daughter is 7 and the puppy was 7 months old in May, which is close to July...again, my blog, I missed the 7's by 2 months, whatever).
The puppy is a total sweetheart, as is my daughter. After a month of being home with my daughter, I want to spend more time with her. Some other nuggets to leave you with:

- we took care of our friends' 5 year old a few weeks ago and I realized I really wished we had 2 children 2 years apart (Hubby cringes every time I say that)

- I didn't have any more late night conversations with my deceased mother but now I am ready.

- I was supposed to vacation for all of July but instead have worked more than ever (but from home)

- my garden was a bust...too much shade and too close to black walnuts...makes me get a little weepy...

- my 11 year old dog is now on palliative pain care. I love her so much. It's funny when you love someone/thing you don't really care if they shit in your house, you just want them to be comfortable.

- I went to a commitment ceremony for my friend the conservative Christian lesbian. Her divorce isn't quite formalized yet so now she is not only the only the only conservative Christian lesbian I know, but she is the only conservative Christian lesbian polygamist I know. She is also the only person I have known who has been married twice and I have gone to both weddings (I was the maid of honor at my mom's third wedding but she eloped for the forth so I didn't attend that one).

- I am deeply saddened by the shooting at the UU church in Knoxville. Anyone who thinks there is a 'gay agenda' or a 'liberal agenda' needs to get their mouth away from Ann Coulter's labia...NOW! Ick!

Peace out...

Séance?

One of my good friends is travelling for work but he travels for a month at a time. He has a wonderful wife and 2 beautiful children. I can't imagine being away from my family for that long. The other night we were talking on the phone and we were discussing insomnia. I suffer insomnia in fits and starts. When I travel, I pretty much always have it and then I have it on the weekends sometimes, just based on my overall anxiety. He is now having horrible insomnia, we pitied each other; it was a nice, sharing moment. The fact that I talked to someone for 45 minutes on the phone is a shock in and of itself. Of course the conversation didn't remove the insomnia I am suffering from now. Last night was no different; I managed to fall asleep at 1:30 only to be woken up at 2:20 by the hotel phone ringing. My dead mother was on the phone. She said, and I quote "Arwen Darling, are you ok?" My response was "Yes, Mom, I am fine but I need to sleep now."

I hung up…on my dead mother. I slept like a log.

I woke up this morning remembering the call and was a little shocked I didn't bother to ask her how the afterlife was treating her, let her know I was missing her, tell her about my daughter's perfect report card. Instead I went back to sleep. My next thought was that it was a dream but I remember waking up, sitting up and answering the phone. As I left for the office I stopped at the front desk and spoke with a clerk. I said as innocuously as I could 'I think someone called my room at 2:20 in the morning, can you tell who called me?' I decided not to mention the dead mother conversation. The clerk responded that indeed there was a call at 2:24 and he was so sorry and he gave me 5000 points for the inconvenience.

Huh? Did I just pass up a chance to talk to my dead mom? Fuck! I can only imagine that it would take a considerable amount of energy for a dead person to do something like this, especially if the person she is contacting doesn't believe in the afterlife. I have no idea what actually happened. When I get back to the hotel I am going to ask if they know who called me in the middle of the night. Happy birthday to me.

Felon

While I was waiting in security I was looking at everyone around me. Miami is a great airport to people watch, lots of tragically hip Europeans and uptight American mothers with very tan children. The Miami airport has the entrance to security next to the exit of the secure area so while you wait in line you can watch families re-united. Today was no different than any other day; families wait patiently for their loved ones to emerge. There are sweet little girls dressed up and men with flowers.

Suddenly one of the little girls, she might have been five, starting screaming 'Daddy Daddy!' and was incredibly emotional: crying while she screamed it.

And then she ran into the secure area.

Her father swooped her up amid the alarms blaring and TSA and police officers going into full attack mode. Suddenly everyone settled down and settled down quickly. I glanced toward where the commotion was occurring and I saw the father, in full fatigues holding his little girl tightly as he emerged from the secure area. Around him were a number of other soldiers, clearly happy to be home too. I am not sure there was a dry eye in the security line after watching that.

I hope the little girl isn't arrested for entering the secure area illegally since it is a felony.

Wuv, Twu Wuv

Last year I was in San Francisco with my family. My step father lives in the Outer Sunset and I wanted to see the renovations he had done to his condo. My step father and I had business at city hall and as we were entering the building there was a young couple with a few of the family members standing around. She was in a white dress. He was in a suit. It was clear they were getting married. My comment to my step father was 'this is a lovely building to get married in'. He agreed. Today I have been taking little breaks from an extremely stressful day by Googling California wedding pictures.

I think San Francisco city hall looks even prettier now that the all couples are allowed to get married there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We are officially in death week, which is longer than a week and doesn’t always involve death, but I can be pretty dark when the mood strikes me, and around this time of year, it’s every day. My death week involves the 8 days preceding my birthday and my birthday itself. My husband and I just sort of hold our breath between now and June 26^th and hope nothing too weird / evil / lame / annoying happens between now and then. On the 26^th we toast the passing of another death week, hopefully with nothing bad happening. We don't plan anything for my birthday, since that seems to bring on horrible events. I am sure more than one of you are thinking ‘It can’t be too bad, isn’t she being a bit histrionic?’ My mom’s death anniversary is yesterday. My father’s death date is June 23^rd. I got to identify my father’s corpse on my birthday. My brother almost died boating June 20^th, 1996.

Do you get the point or do you want me to continue?

I insist everyone I know and love look twice before crossing the street, don’t eat tomatoes and don’t play Russian roulette between now and the 26^th.

Last night I dreamed of my mother. We were in her hospital room and she was in bed. I was wearing my croquet whites and a sun bonnet. This room was the one right next to the nurse’s station. She was only there for the last 24 hours of her life. They put her there when she made a turn for the worse and could no longer move her body anymore. It was a small room and the nurses kept flitting in and out and they had fairy wings on. I was sitting next to my mother and I had her hand in mine and I was trying to convince her that it would be so much nicer to play a couple games of bridge then to die. I figured we could play Newlywed Bridge since there were only two of us and it would be fine. She had already had a stroke and was no longer responsive but I didn’t want to stop interacting with her, I was just trying to find a way to keep her around a little longer. I find this particularly strange because when she called me four years ago to tell me she was giving up, I completely understood her decision, even if I wasn’t happy about it. Five years of fighting a depilating disease had taken its toll, her quality of life was deplorable and she was getting sick all the time. The alarm went off and I woke up crying.

I hate death week.

(This picture is from 1990, it was taken on my graduation from the first college I attended. I am on the left in croquet whites. My friend Erica (not Hellga but a different Erica) is on the right.)

June 16th

Today is the fourth anniversary of my mother's death. I still miss her terribly. Leukemia is a bitch. Today is the day I implore my friends to donate blood. My mom needed what seemed like gallons in her five year battle. Go donate blood, people! I am sure you have 10 excuses not to but put all that aside and think about how much we take blood for granted in this country.

Victory

I just realized it has been weeks since my last post. Time is flying.

This year we are growing a vegetable garden. In the past we have always has tomatoes and basil and before we moved to our current house we had peppers, raspberries and other random vegetables year over year. My husband has noticed when I don't play in the dirt I get anxious and argumentative. It could be said I am argumentative all the time, but if it makes him feel better then it is because I am not out in the garden. When I was a girl I helped my step-father with the community gardens in the town I grew up in. I grew up in Boston where we didn't plant warm plants (tomatoes, eggplants, peppers) until Memorial Day. I was shocked when I moved to North Carolina and some people planted tomatoes as early as the last week in April (that really is WAY too early, we aren't in Florida, just a suburb of Florida). My step father taught me an immeasurable amount regarding gardening and I still have many of the gardening books he had as references. He taught me about planting plants near each other and why (basil keeps certain pests away from tomatoes, surround your garden with marigolds, corn likes pumpkins). He taught me to water seeds and then let the seedlings tough it out. Their roots will go deeper faster and will be able to last through a drought better than if we artificially watered. I learned how rewarding it is to dig out potatoes and eat them for dinner. I remember the first time I ate a cherry tomato from the vine and realized it was sweeter than candy. I don't think any cherry tomatoes made it to the sink that summer. We never used chemicals and had rain barrels in 1985. 1985, people. Only as an adult did I ever realize how much and how deep his teaching affected me.

Last fall we started the master plan for our back yard. We built a garage with a studio / office / guest space on our back lot and this spring we ripped down the old garage. We then pulled out 12 – 18 inches of soil where the old garage had been and filled that space with loam and composted horse manure from a local farm. I convinced some friends of mine that we should have a community garden and so we have 3 families working on an 18' by 24' for garden. When we work in the garden we talk about all sorts of things and our children play. Our relationships grow as the garden grows. When I travel other people come by and water and weed. We have already started eating greens and spinach from our garden. They taste so good. We are planting everything vertically so we have cucumber and melon trellises. Under the trellises we have greens (romaine, spinach and salad greens) that would get too hot in the summer without the shade the trellises will offer. Our pumpkins are going to grow into a big patch behind the garden. We are growing corn and bean and peas and tomatoes (6 types) and peppers (7 types) and kale and snow peas. We have herbs and flowers throughout the garden. It is paradise.

I call it my victory garden. I feel rebellious and strong when I look at my garden. I feel like I should have a t-shirt with a clenched fist on it. I think the fist should be holding an ear of corn. In growing this garden I move away from the industrial farming machine, I move away from using petroleum both in the chemicals used on the plants and the petroleum used to transport what I eat. In growing this garden I take back what every person should be able to do, feed themselves in a way other than going to the market and buying something. I am creating functional beauty that cannot be denied. I am subverting the dominant paradigm in gentlest of ways. And all this comes from some seeds, some sun, some water, some dirt and a little bit of sweat.

Ewwwwww

On Monday I was doing a sales demo at a computer company. Everyone there was under 40 and beautiful; they had the energy of a start up and acted a little cocky. Their sales are growing leaps and bounds and they seem to have a great business model. I understand their business model extremely well because they buy and sell servers and when I started in Corporate America I also bought and sold configured computer systems, although my business centered on cash registers and point of sale systems. They want a way to sell things so that people can consume their stuff and they can report what they sell easier. That's why I was there; I sat in front of a computer for 7 hours explaining why the software I implement would be better than anyone else's software system. They asked good questions, they looked for specific things that were important to their business. Did I mention they were all beautiful?

To be honest, after about 30 minutes of being there I was a little intimidated by them.

And then I sat down in front of the computer I was going to do the demonstration on and I went to plug the power cord into the power strip located under the big corporate table we were seated around and I saw someone's toenail clippings on the floor under the under table. I pretty much spent the rest of the meeting trying to figure who in their right mind would

One: clip their toenails in the company's board room

Two: leave the toenails on the floor of the company's boardroom

I was also wondering if this was some type of Fight Club subversion, a disgruntled employee's passive aggressive attack on the management or if they had been there a while and the cleaning people didn't bother to vacuum under the table.

Things My Mom Taught Me

When I was a teenager my mom sat me down for a talk about the facts of life. Not those facts of life, the other facts of life, the facts about being a working woman. She pretty much assumed I would work and she felt that since her mother and father didn't really sit her down for this talk and my dad was basically socially developmentally disabled, it fell upon her to let me know what she had learned while working. Since mother's day is coming up and I like doing little odes to my mom (she was a rock star), I will now impart the wisdom she bestowed upon me to you, since it is great advice.

1. If you don't ask for it, you won't get it. Women hear this over and over and yet they still get paid less than men. The last job I interviewed for I requested an additional week of vacation and I got it because I asked and had a great reason to ask for it: I had that much vacation in my last job and if they wanted me to work for them they had to ante up. Does anyone honestly think and employer is going to give them something out of the goodness of their heart? Right. Of course, I also quit that job because the other things I asked for just weren't going to happen.
   
2. Your work might suck ass but it doesn't mean you're fat or stupid. This is particularly hard for women. Someone criticizes their work (or their cooking) and they take it as a personal attack on themselves (my husband still loves me even though one time I added a lot of oregano to refried beans instead of cilantro although he has asked me not to make refrieds like that again). Some people have a really hard time separating themselves from the work product they create. Yes, we put a lot into our work, yes we care deeply about the product, but it is a product of us, it is not us. Unfortunately this problem permeates blogging as well. I have read blogs where the commenter said they didn't agree and the blogger took it as a personal attack even though the commenter didn't really make a personal attack. Those posts always get fun and screechy because then all these other commenters rush to the defense of the damsel in distress and it makes for great drama. Today I was reading a blog I like and he had reviewed the Lou Reed show that occurred last night. Some people were a little critical of his review (myself included) but someone who commented anonymously (of course) left this comment: "You're the dumbest asshole that ever lived. Lou Reed is the best f**in' man in the world. Nobody can do it as good as him. He's the fuckin' best! You suck." Mr Bugg responded in an appropriate way: "I may be an asshole, but I'm certainly not dumb. As far as your "Lou Reed is the best man in the world" comment, I was wondering how much of his money was he giving to Doctors without Borders last night? Also, what does f**in' mean? I think you were trying to say "fuckin'" and you failed miserably. But what do I know, I'm apparently the dumb one." Classic response, my mom would have been proud. Mr Bugg clearly understands that comments to his review were not an admonition of his intelligence or weight. If only the rest of the world could handle idiots as smoothly as Mr Bugg.
   
3. Don't worry about crying but don't do it in an obvious place. I have such a hard time with this theory but this was her logic: women deal with stress in their own way, and that is often not healthy. Crying is an accepted way to deal with stress and women are taught this at a very early age. Boys, on the other hand, are told to 'take it like a man.' Women are also told to be nice (what are little girls made of? That's right: sugar and spice and everything nice, notice there is nothing in there about stoic wherewithal or brass cajones). When a woman gets really stressed and frustrated, which are emotions they are not really taught to deal with, they scream and cry. It's what they do, some don't but lots do. Screaming is a career limiting move (CLM). Crying is seen as weak but not as much a CLM as screaming. People hate screaming and crying but crying you can hide. My friend Tina has repeatedly said to me 'I need to vent for 5 minutes and then I will be fine.' She vents, she tears up, and she moves on and gets her business done. Getting that emotional shit out of the way clears the path to take care of what needs to be taken care of so much better than stewing over it. Of course, if women didn't take everything so freaking personally, this wouldn't happen as much either.
   
4. Add point 2 and point 3 together and you get this one: when there is an issue, state the problem with facts and not emotions. Lay out the problem succinctly and with care to avoid the emotions or you will have a much harder time getting the problem fixed.
   

See, my mom was a genius.

7 Windows to My Soul

Peeking in on my Daughter sleep, especially after I have been away all week.

The look on my husband's face when I said 'I do.'

Looking at Bingo Lake holding my mother's hand.

Seeing a seedling emerge from soil.

Looking at a piece of glass, and realizing what I could turn it into.

Bull's Sluice at 4 feet.

The sunrise at Ferry Beach.

 

7 Windows of my Soul was a post first done by Jen. If you choose to add your 7 windows, let her and Jess know and they will add you to their post.

Landed

PS - This posted to Blogger with only one problem, Blogger didn't like the font I used so I had to change it once it was loaded. I hate admitting this but sometimes I like Microsoft products.

I am trying something new, I am writing my post in Word and it is supposed to upload to my blog for me. I hope this works. How is everyone? I am great. I quit my last company, as I not so recently posted, and have been a tad bit busy. I would love to tell you I was happily busy in my glass studio, breaking glass and making art, but we still don't have electricity in the building.

Patience, Charlie, patience. (This is an old Charlie Parker album, in case you are wondering).

I have gotten my first gig under my new company. It will last 13 weeks and it is running an implementation of one of my favorite applications. I have set up my own company and have a new company email address which I have shared with a few people who I chat with quite often. One of these people sent me the following email:

Dear Arwen,

I would hire you, but I still don't really understand what you do.

Love,

Jen

Hmmm, OK. In the last two weeks I have tried to explain my work repeatedly, all to no avail. I often think of this famous quote: I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that…so what I've been doing lately is kick-boxing, which is a new sport.

I have actually skirted all those career avenues without become a kick-boxer, although that may be my life work and I just haven't realized it yet. I am an Information Technology consultant, in particular a database applications maven. There are some people that want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I help people implement the software that will allow them to do that. In particular, I specialize in the Order to Cash process. I help people implement the software to take orders, process orders, ship orders, invoice orders and account for said orders. I can work with companies that rely heavily on sales reps and I can work for companies that heavily rely on call centers and I can work with companies that do lots of different types of sales. Sometimes, I work heavily with customer service groups. I set up complex pricing systems, contracting systems and even can implement systems that generate commission statements for that sales system I just implemented.

In a nutshell, I enable consumerism.

Oh, In case you are wondering

I am still alive. I quit my job. I am still alive. Next week my daughter turns 7. I am still alive. I have been working from home for the last two weeks. I am doing pretty good. My past employer wanted me to work 200 miles away for 5 days weeks (leave Sunday night, return Friday late) for the next two years, so I quit. I am more than alive, I am thriving. My stained glass studio is almost ready for me to start working in it. How could I be anything other than thriving? I have had job offers without even updating my resume.
Things are really good.
This is not a belated April Fool's joke.

Open Letter to My Dear Friend

Dear Kara,

Thank you for coming to visit me. If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be nearly as far along with your guest suite (that won't have electricity when you get here but we.were.so.close). You will be staying in the main house this time but we can go drink out there after the kids have fallen asleep, it will be just like high school again. Also, thank you for having you daughter, whom we love to pieces. Without her we would have never spent 3 hours cleaning our daughter's bedroom on Sunday. We couldn't actually see the floor to her play room before we started. We hauled out 2 bags of recycling, 2 bags of trash and 2 bags of Goodwill. And she still has plenty of crap to play with. And by the way, I went easy on candy in the easter baskets but of course made up for it with more crap (flying bunnies, anyone?). So anyway, Don't wait up for me Thursday night. I can't wait to see you.
Love,
Arwen