What we have heah... is a FAILyuh to communicate

I don't normally fuss about work. But some days I really just want to kick the wall. There's another woman with whom I am having ongoing communication problems. I am trying NOT to have problems but dayum. It takes both persons to identify the issue and solve it and one of us? Ain't interested. She hears what she WANTS to hear and makes snap assumptions about nearly everything. And do not think she wants to share her sandbox, either...

dude. If she were a dog on Animal Planet? She'd be the really food-aggressive Chow mix that just ripped your fake arm apart for being near her food bowl.

She never says anything nasty, her words are carefully chosen. But her delivery and tone leave you thinking 'am I imagining things??'

I approached her today with a 7 Habits in mind - Seek first to understand, then to be understood - and carefully stated that it appeared we had very different communication styles that seemed to be causing some misunderstanding... could she please help me to see where something I might be doing could be bothering her?

Well. That? Was not well recieved. I tried. I really did. Not sure where to go next with it, and its beginning to drive me bats. Everything appears to be recieved as some sort of accusation. She used to be in management, or so I understand. So did I but I don't LIKE being a manager, I'd rather just fix problems. And so I chose to go into admin work and frankly? I'm very good at it.

But the perception I'm getting is that not only does she resent not being a manager, but she really hasn't got much respect for this job, nor anyone else who performs it.

I've run into that a lot... I'm not a scientist, not a broker, not a lawyer, not anyone who makes decisions that might be written about or discussed with awe. That's ok. I USED to have a Very Important Job with people reporting to me and a lot of stress and crises and budgets and all that.

But life is short. And I'm happy doing what I do so that Other Very Important People can accomplish their jobs. So we all win.

Except that its getting very frustrating to work alongside someone who speaks to you as though you're the poor cashier on her first day at McDs during the lunch rush... AND THAT PERSON HAS THE EXACT SAME JOB.

Point? I haven't got one. Just a rant to get it off my chest so I can get it out of my system and go in tomorrow and again try and make things work better.

The Naked City

DC traffic... it's always something aound here. Everybody's heard about what a zoo DC traffic can be. And sometimes you just don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Like today... a backup on the Beltway, partially caused by an accident. And I guess one of the participants caused a bit more rubber-necking than usual... seeing as how he was apparently naked and all. After what was reportedly a minor fender-bender, dude got out of his rental car, stripped down to his birthday suit and ran around the traffic lanes for 45 minutes.

Now that I think on it, this is the second or third naked traffic incident in the last few months. What the heck? It isn't even all that warm out. I don't imagine that streaking down the road in 40 degree weather is really going to show a man at his best, but obviously thats the least of their worries.

and can you imagine trying to explain why you're late to work? ''Yeah, I'm gonna be late today... Naked Guy.''

DC traffic... it used to be exploding tankers on the beltway, now its nudity. Always something.

Day planners only work if you use them.

Some weeks ago, I found a really great day planner that was small enough to fit into my purse and even better... it was on clearance. But... I haven't exactly used it for its intended purpose, which is NOT to be a paperweight on my antique vanity.

Which brings me to where I am going to be spending my morning, instead of relaxing at home with coffee and a book.

The state vehicle safety and emissions inspection line.

Gah. Both my inspection and my registration expire at the end of March and I have been so preoccupied, I didn't give it any thought. Nor did I plan ahead when I drove across town to the one place that's open on Sundays... so I lack reading material and a sustaining beverage. I'm debating whether its worth it to leave the end of this line of cars, drive over to Borders Books, stock my car for the long wait and return.

hmmm. I have to wonder about this????

**

So i'm back with books and a caramel latte and only one additional car got in line while I was gone.

Also? On my way back, I was treated to the cutest sight. A black SUV decked out in silver hearts and streamers and a Just Married sign.

The occupants? The happiest-looking elderly couple EVAH. My heart? It glows. There go two people with the best wishes this total stranger can send after them.

Turkeys and Tags and Birds Without Shame

So we have this very very large shrub at the corner of the house, next to the living room window. It's apparently a wonderful place if you happen to be feathered, and I often hear birds chirping from its leafy depths. The last few weeks have led me to realize a few things... first, that shrub is THE birdy place to be. The club of choice. Birdland, if you will. Any birdy who's SOMEbirdy is there.

Second, Birdland seems to be the place to find your birdy hookups. And if you happen to be a birdy hooking up... you then move to the No Tell Motel, which would be the top of my front door. Yes indeed. Any hour of the day, unsuspecting passersby could find themselves witnessing a little birdy action taking place on my front door. No wonder the chipmunk moved out. I mean REALLY.


I was driving up to my mom's shop this morning to drop of some things and noticed what appeared to be a turkey up on the small hill. "Oh neat," I thought "Man, I haven't seen wild turkeys around here for... well... a really long time." And I went on my way.

When I was returning home, that turkey was still there, now joined by about a dozen more. And as my car got closer, I realized that they weren't turkeys at all. They were buzzards. And more were landing... lots more. And oh. Ick. They were handling the ah... roadside cleanup detail because apparently the department of transportation has been lax about deer on the road. Not exactly the charming tableau I thought I'd been seeing. Bleah. There are times when nature ain't so cute.




I've been tagged. Thankfully, its a meme and not like a toe tag... although there have been days this week where it felt like that was entirely within the realm of possibility.

But I digress.

Mommy Brain tagged me and this is how you play:

Rules are:
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird. (Weird? Oh, I got yer weird, never fear)
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.


1. I know how to spin. And I don't mean ellipticals or whatever the heck people are referring to when they talk about spin classes. I mean taking tufts of carded wool and making yarn out of it. And yes, I have both a spinning wheel and a drop spindle, and Rumplestiltskin ain't my name.

2. I hate whistling. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up and my teeth curl. It really, really, really drives me up the wall. I don't know why, there's just something about whistling that hurts my ears and makes me want to run away.

3. I read really quickly. I can finish a 600 page novel in about 2 hours, with full retention. And I will re-read books I like, which means I have more books in my house than anyone knows what to do with.

4. I am afraid of the dark, but only indoors. I used to have this scary crazy black cat when I was a kid, and he would hide under things and jump out and bite you in the dark. So, unless there was a light on, we were certain Lucifer was gonna get us. That cat has been dead more than 20 years and I STILL hate being in the dark in the house.

5. Although I love horseback riding, white horses make me uncomfortable. I am not certain why.

6. I hate the smell of vanilla unless it involves food.

7. I am a great big geekazoid and own and play more video games than my teenaged son. Ok, well I don't get to play much anymore, but I can lay the serious smackdown on the boy when I choose to. My favorites are FPS, survival horror (gimmie some zombies and I am a happy chick) and RPGs.

I am closing my eyes and hitting links at random, so here's who gets tagged:

Velocibadger, for many reasons including Im in hur blog, taggin hur brayn

The former South Carolinian, now in Ohio

Catwoman

Suzie who now has me thinking of the Holy Handgrenade of Antioch

Lone Grey Squirrel

The Reluctant Housewife

Guinevere


Although I smacked... er... TAGGED everyone at random, really anyone can play.

And because I have to go to work, I'll alert everyone that they were tagged sometime later today.

"HEY! I'm walkin' heah..."

So I'm driving my tired butt home from training at the part-time job last night (Best phrase by management last night - 'omg I forgot you were here.' This bodes well.) and its about midnight. No other cars on the long street through my subdivision. Then I see this big ass raccoon, ambling along, in the street. Its not crossing the road, its walking IN the road.

Well, i don't want to hit it, so i slow way down... and it neither gets out of the road, nor does it hurry up any. I come to a stop and honk the horn just a little.

That got a response, but not what I expected . The raccoon whirled around to face my car and kind of did this back-arching thing and i'm pretty sure it was growling or hissing or whatever raccoons do because its mouth was open, although I sure as hell was not getting out to check. (I have tangled with raccoons on my grandmother's farm and they can be right nasty little SOBs) That raccoon had had enough and by golly, he was going to stand up for his furry right to the road. Raccoon had balls, you gotta give it that much.

So we sat there, staring at each other for a minute and I guess some semblence of survival instinct finally said ''Yo raccoon... you versus toyota equals splat.'' It whipped around again and bolted for the other said of the road.

I continued on my way and last I saw it, the raccoon was waddling up the sidewalk as fast as he could go.

Jacob Makes a Fateful Discovery

My thoughtful husband went to Target to pick up some OTC medicine for my stomach (because having a cold wasn't enough for me, I gotta go for the gusto) earlier this evening and took Short Stuff along for the ride.

He decided to introduce Jacob to The Toy Aisles (cue theme for 2001: A Space Odyssey) this is the first time that Jacob really NOTICED the toy section, and by that I mean the little guy had an epiphany.

My husband said he stopped dead in his tracks, clenched his fists, his arms rigid at his sides, and looked slowly around at the wondrous sight. He then took a long, deep breath and began flapping his arms up and down frantically, squealing a jubilant ''EEEEEEEE!!!!'' as he raced down the aisle, clearly overcome by the idea of All. These. TOYS.

My husband got him an inexpensive car and muttered to me that he may have made a tactical error by introducing him to the toy aisle concept.... but maybe Jacob wouldn't remember next time?

While his daddy was running the bath, I asked Jacob if he had fun at the store with daddy?

He put his hands on my cheeks and leaned forward, looking at me with his serious expression.

''Caaaaaaar,'' he whispered, almost reverently.


Oh, I suspect he's going to remember.

She's Cold as Ice

Sure enough, I now have Jacob's cold. I can't take cold medications so it tends to put me a little off of my game.

However I put on my big girl panties and went to work, to wage my daily battle against... well, whatever I need to battle. There's always something.

But I'm trying to be sensible, drinking plenty of liquids and all that, and that was why I had a 32 ounce cup of ice water in front of me. HAD is the operative word, here.

Naturally, being a klutz who's somewhat foggy in the head, I knocked into it when I leaned down to open one of my file drawers. Although I managed to catch the cup before it tipped all the way over, I splashed a generous amount down my chest. Including a few pieces of ice, some of which slid down into what COULD be called cleavage (if one were feeling generous) and lodged there.

And even more naturally, because we are very busy, someone Very Important walked into my office to tell me a painfully long story while that ice melted into my bra.

It is not considered Acceptable Professional Office Behavior to reach in and grab ice out of your tatas, so all I could do was try to look as though I was not considering such action and wait for the Very Important Executive to leave.

At least I was wearing black, so the dampness didn't show but let me tell you what... Boobs On Ice will definitely wake you up faster than a double shot of espresso.

Happy Easter Y'All

Once again, I say "Oh we'll just do something small." Once again, I spent waaaaaay too much time in the kitchen. Originally, it was just going to be my husband, Short Stuff and me. Then the teenager decided he wasn't too cool to have Easter dinner with his mom (yay!) so we quickly threw a shopping list together and made plans for an actual Dinner. That also meant I had to empty the dining room table so we could put it to its intended use, rather than World's Flattest Filing Cabinet.

And then my daughter called to say that she'd be able to come for dinner after all too (yay v2.0)and was there going to be chocolate cream pie (a family tradition)? Aw heck, the stores are now closed and I have no pie crusts, nor pudding. But I do have The Joy of Cooking and a ridiculous Can-Do attitude about Easter Sunday Dinner , and lo. I made 5 individual-sized cream pies - two vanilla and three chocolate. And lo. That was an enormous pain in the ass. And an even bigger mess. And my super-flaky crusts kept breaking as I tried to get the pie beads out of the shells, but Common Sense gave my Inner Martha a savage beatdown and said "Bitch! You wanted pie, you shut up and make PIE!" Common Sense knows that broken crusts tastes the same.

And someone else was hoping for sweet potatoes. Someone else wanted mashed potatoes. Asparagus, broccoli, wild rice... I see why people go OUT for Easter dinner, but I was on a roll. Good grief, this was easier when I was a kid and only had to worry about my sisters eating my coconut egg out of my easter basket. How many years until I can pass the baton of holiday dinner responsibility on, I wonder?

I was ALSO insane enough to make parkerhouse rolls from scratch WHICH a certain someone who will remain nameless observed that they sort of kind of maybe looked like labia... which made the teenager's ears turn scarlet with embarrassment and made everyone decide maybe we didn't want any more rolls with dinner. We're Klass right here, folks. I KNEW I should have gone with Pepperidge Farms brown & serve....

No one squabbled, I only cut myself twice, nothing blew up. A good day. Well, other than the rolls. You can't have everything. Not even on the good china.

Second Verse, Same as the First

A little more snotty and a little bit worse...

Yep. Short Stuff has come down with Nasty Cough and Cold #433 for the year, with a side of Really Green Goop and Occasional Fever. So he and I are home today... I really absolutely needed to toss a load of his clothes into the wash, so as he sat playing, I turned on the TV in search of perhaps Sesame Street to occupy him for a minute.

What I got was Little Einsteins. Now, I've had friends tell me LE is kind of like Kiddy Crack, but I'd never experienced the.... oddness that is Little Einsteins. Classical music? Check. Great, we love it around here. Classical artwork? Ok, that's good too, if perhaps a bit of an advanced concept, but art is A Very Good Thing, so I'm down with that.

Characters and story? Okay, we have entered into some sort of preschooler twilight zone. The story appears to center around a Mommy Cello in Italy, who is hatching baby cellos out of five different-colored instrument cases arranged in a nest.

Wha?

And THEN, for drama, one of the baby cellos falls in a RIVER, and the LE kids have to help it find its MOMMY.

Ok, now we had some weird shows when I was a kid, and I never have quite figured out how I felt about Time for Timer on the ABC network but.... Italian cellos hatching out of a nest?



What is IN their sippy cups?? I think it fermented.

I am having a bad day. A really really bad day.

I was certain that today was going to be kind of amusing but I surprised myself.

This is so bizarre, you just can't make this shit up. Ok, taking a trip in the WayBack machine... you know my grandfather's house? the one I had to evict the scary crazy deerkiller guy from and THEN fend off frozen squirrels in ziploc bags falling on me (really) and an entire befeathered turkey wing -btw do you know how freaking big a whole wing is??? - in the refrigerator (really really) and a nightmare-inducing pile of deer legs that will never be scrubbed from my brain...? That house.

The house my grandfather built - every bit - with his own two hands, on land HIS grandfather gave him, from the farm that has been part of generations going back and back...

There's a family renting it who have a connection, too, through his uncle, who had been my grandfather's best friend for more than 80 years.

And some months back, they approached my sisters, telling us of odd happenings in the house. Footsteps. Voices. Things moving. And they asked permission to have it checked out. And asked permission to take part in a Maury Povich episode if they were careful not to gve any identifying information. Ha-ha, we said, sure, knock yourselves out!

The show aired today. And it wasn't an entertaining story to me, although I was really expecting it to be. They had some photos, they had some EVP recordings.... and really, they covered very little on the show.

It still felt like a solid punch. My grandfather died in that house, in a horrible, stupid accident. And really, if he's still hanging around, i have no doubt its because he wants to. You have no idea how he felt about that place, and how he never, ever wanted to leave it.

This is the view from the back steps... or at least the right half of the view


We were all mildly amused about the house being featured on Maury. We figured we'd giggle like idjits at it, and really, it WAS pretty silly. All the same though, now I don't know what to think. And its really difficult to explain that you're upset because they say your house is haunted by your grandpa after all and... and... seriously!

But... listening to one of those recordings and watching the show was an enormous emotional shock I simply wasn't expecting. It feels just like it did when my mother called to tell me he'd died that Halloween a few years ago. I miss my grandfather terribly. I loved him fiercely. And apparently I'm not nearly as over it as I thought I was.

But .... I just do not know how to process this Slice O' Weird. How in the EFF does this shit keep on keepin' on?



DAYUM.


Up the attic steps to the "haunted chest of drawers"
.


The day I finished cleaning out the horror from scary guy... this is what I saw.






No words necessary.