tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36691741185900292012024-03-04T23:41:00.106-08:00Geographically ConfusedWait, where I am again?HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-83282270216080720942012-06-07T07:58:00.002-07:002012-06-07T07:58:41.391-07:00I am an idiotI am an idiot. I managed to fall and sprain my ankle stepping through a door I've walked through thousands of times before. <br />
<br />
It's Saturday, roughly 4pm. We're getting ready to head off to a birthday party for an old and ear friend of mine. The night before I baked 6 dozen mini cornbread muffins (I know you're shocked that I baked, but I can't really only make cornbread, and it's my own recipe). The birthday boy request my hot pink bathing suit, and despite the fact that I think I look like a beached whale in a bathing suit, I'd decided I'd put on my XL big girl panties and just get over it. I'd even found one of the sarongs he gave me all those years ago (1999) that matched the suit. (hey, if I'm going to look like a beached whale, at least I can tastefully cover up the worst bits when out of the water)<br />
<br />
I'm packed and ready to roll, Ed's taking care of some last minute stuff. He suggests that we encourage the dogs to go potty before we crate them for the evening. So I decide to take care of it. "Who wants to go potty? Let's go potty!" as I head for the back yard. Cue two large black dogs racing each other for the dog door. I step into the garage - no problem. I open the door to the back yard - no problem. I step through the door - problem. <br />
<br />
I honestly have no idea what happened, other than the obvious. Somehow, I stepped funny and my right foot supinated and turned under me and down I went. I heard some lovely pops and felt searing pain. I started screaming. Mr Empathetic (*sarcasm*) comes out. "What's wrong!?" And it pretty much went down hill from there. (like it's not obvious I've done something to my foot considering I'm clutching it and crying/screaming)<br />
<br />
It's the same ankle I dislocated when I was 14. I've had problems with it ever since. <br />
<br />
I was furious that we missed the party. Angry at myself. I'm still angry. <br />
<br />
I'm on the mend, and thanks to my local BFF who is also a medic, I'm mending quickly. He came by that night to look at it. He yelled at me for not doing enough for it, and then iced it (god damn that was cold!) and wrapped it (he's not that gentle). I swear, neither of the men in my life are very empathetic. He took me to the Dr on Monday, and the Dr was amused that I have my own personal medic. He stopped by last night and looked at it again. He's pleased with my progress. <br />
<br />
Still, I'm an idiot. And I hate my ankle.HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-8072264775583281542012-06-07T07:38:00.000-07:002012-06-07T08:16:37.083-07:00Conversations with Co-WorkersSeems like I've been having a lot of strange conversations with co-workers lately. I take it as a good sign - I try not to let too much of my weirdness show around people with whom I'm not particularly close.<br />
<br />
Since I've been a casualty of my own clumsiness and not driving (but that's another post), the Office Mama's been driving me in this week. We've talked about:<br />
<ul>
<li> high end sex toy shops (I love Tulip in Chicago)</li>
<li>vaj-dazzlers. According to RK, it's apparently "a thing" now to decorate your lady bits with body sequins. Luckily, he and most of the others who commented find it absurd (I prefer a more understated and elegant aesthetic. If less is more, then none is most.). </li>
</ul>
<br />
Some of the stranger conversations in the office with Mr Coffee and JB have included:<br />
<ul>
<li>the vaj-dazzler (it's just too funny to not make fun of!)</li>
<li>mispronounced words, like "ax a qwershchun", "kerger" (cougar), and windoos (windows)</li>
<li>the Boondocks and its social commentary</li>
<li>in depth discussions of race relations</li>
<li>political history</li>
<li>why Texas is so f-ed up</li>
<li>current politics</li>
<li>the War on Women (and my comment to Mr Coffee that the last time I checked, there were no politicians in my hooha)</li>
<li>religion (and how I dodged a bullet when asked "And where do you attend services?" You'd be so proud of me! I didn't say "I left the church for a myriad of political and personal reasons, namely the constant spewing of hate from people who claim to follow the teachings of a man who preached love." Instead, I deflected with "My family attends XYZ now."</li>
<li>body art, and my collection of it and burning desire for more (no, I've not dropped my pants at the office to show some of it off)</li>
<li>my father (who worked here before I started)</li>
<li>the complexities of my strange and twisting family tree</li>
<li>sex ("People like to mate." - JB)</li>
<li>coffee accoutrements and the virtues of French Press</li>
<li>gossiping about a certain Tea Party member here</li>
<li>who's going to babysit for me once Mini-Leah or Mini-Ed is created</li>
<li>more sex</li>
<li>and other "taboo" topics that I can't really recall right now </li>
</ul>
I've also pointed out some unfortunate stains to Mr Coffee, warned him to XYZ, and sewn a button back on his shirt (while he was wearing it). <br />
<br />
Some days, I'm convinced we're all going to hell. At least I'll be there with some good friends.HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-29801945989491091942012-05-30T14:29:00.003-07:002012-05-30T14:29:53.013-07:00Mrs. Council Member?I have been mistaken for my boss's wife several times now. I'm thoroughly amused by it. The last time was at a LGBT oriented Gala. <br />
<br />
Did I mention my boss is gay? Yeah. He was on the cover of a local LGBT magazine shortly after he was elected. First gay man elected to this city's council. <br />
<br />And I definitely do NOT look like a 40-something Argentinian man who resembles a teddy bear. Though he is absolutely adorable. HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-59389893229726935762012-04-26T11:09:00.002-07:002012-04-26T11:09:36.403-07:00Hidden TalentsI discovered a new talent today. Apparently, I am very capable of splashing my eye with coffee (okay, it's milk with coffee in it) from my klean kanteen bottle (with the squirty top off). <br />
<br />
I have been advised by a scientist acquaintance that the base quality of the milk neutralized the acid in the coffee, hence no sting. But the artificial sweetener might harbor some bacteria that could cause an eye infection in a few days. <br />
<br />
Oh joy. <br />
<br />
<br />
On an unrelated note - I may be driving to San Antonio solo tomorrow afternoon. The husband was supposed to join me for a weekend trip to my sister's, but he is feeling under the weather and would make a very poor travel companion. My father has gone "Jewish Mother" on me (his words) and is a little freaked out that I would make the 3 hours trip alone. I've sat in Chicago traffic longer than that. I reassured him I'd check my tire pressure before leaving, get a full tank of gas, call him upon leaving and arriving, and that my GPS marked all the gas stations and I have road side assistance through my insurance and Toyota. I told him that by being a Jewish Mother (we are not Jewish), he raised me right so he didn't have to worry, but that I knew he would anyway. <br />
<br />
I should note that my mother offered to caravan with me, as she and a friend are going to San An to see her brother the same evening. But I'd rather make the trip on my own schedule instead. A little solo time and independence does the soul good. HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-6104886345113706202012-03-23T08:51:00.000-07:002012-03-23T08:52:40.139-07:00A evening with the Japanese Consul GeneralOn Wednesday, I had the distinct honor of attending a reception at the home of our Japanese Consul General remembering the Great East Japan Earthquake of 2011 and celebrating Japan's success in reconstruction.<br />
<br />
First there was a ceremonial part of the evening, remembering and honoring the lives lost and the people who gave of themselves to help orphans and the reconstruction process. There were proclamations and plaques and a moment of silence. Then the Consul General shifted the tone to focus on Japan’s success in rebuilding its industries and reaffirming its relationships in the US. The mood of determined and hopeful, yet festive.<br />
<br />
The sake, white wine, and food was imported from Japan. The Consul General was particularly proud of the sake (it was excellent). He’s a very gracious and funny gentleman, quick to smile and laugh at a good joke. He was very impressed and pleased that I greeted him in Japanese. His wife is equally gracious and warm; she was disappointed to learn that Ed had stayed home. I’m planning on writing a note thanking them for their hospitality. <br />
<br />
Everyone was very friendly and seemed appreciative that I made the effort to say "good evening," "how do you do," and "pleased to meet" you in Japanese. That's about the extent of my Japanese. A few who are Japanese-Americans and I joked at how we speak “menu” very well. I suspect their families have similar stories and histories with the detention camps as my in-laws (no one brought those up – not the reason for the evening).<br />
<br />
We were sent home with a folk art doll that is proudly displayed at the office. It’s supposed to be good for mental and physical health. <br />
<br />
I also got to meet some Japanese community contacts. We’re planning on attending Japan-Fest next weekend.<br />
<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
A local County Commissioner, the Consul General, my boss, and me.</div>HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-79605502616076556032012-03-20T12:12:00.000-07:002012-03-20T12:16:53.837-07:00It's not that hardMy boss is an elected official. His name is not hard. It's not unusual. If you want me to take your call or email seriously, the bare minimum you can do is spell and pronounce his name correctly. And if in doubt, you can always just call him by his position (ex: Chairman, Congress Woman, Council Member, etc) or ask for clarification.<br />
<br />
And I understand that my last name is not exactly easy. You may call me Leah, Ms Leah, or Ms MaidenName if Ms Maid-MarriedName is too hard. Heck, if you can pronounce my married name, I'll even respond to Ms MarriedName. Ma'am is also fine. I don't particularly care for Miss or Mrs, but I won't correct you. I will correct you if you call me only by my last name (either of them) as I'm not in the military or in law enforcement.<br />
<br />
But my name is <u><b>NOT</b></u> Missy, Young Lady, Baby, Little Girl, You Stupid B-word, or anything else that initializes or disrespects me.<br />
<br />
Capiche?HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-73515595682056125262012-03-11T08:50:00.002-07:002012-03-11T08:50:19.361-07:00Gandmothers can be really sneaky sometimesMany of you may remember the fiasco with my grandmother (via my
bio-Pops) when I got married just over a year ago. She left me a voice
mail the week before the wedding saying she couldn't make it because 1)
the cows at the ranch needed to be fed and 2) there were some cousins
from my deceased grandfather's side of the family that happened to be in
town and wanted to see the ranch.<br /><br />I was pretty upset. I'm the
eldest granddaughter, and she'd just attended another granddaughter's
wedding that summer, so I felt pretty snubbed. I also knew that cows
and cousins were pretty lame excuses for skipping a wedding and I
suspect other motives, possibly including but not limited to: it was a
civil ceremony (the Cap'n atheist and I'm sorta
agnostic/atheist/Buddhist), it was a 2nd marriage for both of us, my
grandmother's extremely Catholic, the Cap'n half Japanese, it was a
Pirate themed wedding & we encouraged costumes, and/or we'd been
living together for several years. This was 1/1/2011. I'm also a fair
bit disappointed with my bio-Pops and family for not telling her how
cruddy it was to skip a wedding. (you'd think she'd be happy that we
were finally getting married and not "living in sin" anymore)<br /><br />I
skipped the family Christmas celebration this last year mostly to avoid
her (I've been angry for a long time), though also because my sister
from my adoptive side was in town with her family. <br /><br />Yesterday we
attended a vow renewal for my Aunt MM and Uncle SM that celebrated their
25th anniversary. I knew she'd be there, and I didn't want to cause a
stink and detract in any from the party, so I talked to some of my FB
gurus and decided that general avoidance was my best course of action.
<br />
<br />Even though she sat right in front
of me, I managed to avoid her during the mass. I also managed to avoid
her though lunch - right up until the very end. She cornered me and
hugged me. It was brief, so I just let it go and gave her a quick hug
back. Then, as the Cap'n and I were leaving, we encountered her again
and she gave me another hug good bye, only she held on and started
crying because she missed my grandfather so much. (Frankly, I don't
know why. He was a class A abusive jerk.)<br /><br />So I'm a big softie
and I hugged her back and told her I loved her and that I was glad I saw
her. Am I still upset at the snub? Absolutely. But ya know what?
She'll never understand why what she did was so hurtful. I'm 31, she's
late 70's. She's not going to change, and I have better things to do
with my life than hold a grudge against an old lady. <br /><br />But she was sneaky with those hugs. <img alt=";)" class="smiley" src="http://rletiquette.createaforum.com/Smileys/default/wink.gif" title="Wink" /> <br /><br />I thought y'all might like the update.HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-29060834428539922242012-02-20T13:46:00.000-08:002012-02-20T13:47:47.044-08:00Pink CadawacI have the itch to buy a house. I know it probably won't happen this year, but looking at real estate now is prompting us to take a good look at our finances and credit ratings to start getting our stuff in order.<br />
<br />
I found a house that we both really like. Assuming we could get approved for a down payment loan and a mortgage, it's an incredible value. It needs a lot of cosmetic work, and we have no idea what problems an inspection would reveal. We have a huge crush on this house - I feel like a 14 year old girl and his house is "that boy" - you know the one. The one with the perfect hair and the dreamy eyes. Yeah. Him.<br />
<br />
(Leebee drifts off into La La Land for a moment............)<br />
<br />
The house is on a street named "Cadawac." Thanks to Lindsay, I know have Bruce Springsteen's "Pink Cadillac" stuck in my head, as sung by Elmer Fudd:<br />
<br />
I wuv you for your pink Cadawac<br />
Cwushed vewlvet seats<br />
Widing in the back<br />
Oozing down the stweet<br />
Waving to the goils<br />
Feewin' out of sight<br />
Spendin' aw my money<br />
On a Satuhday night<br />
Honey I just wonder what you do der in back<br />
Of your pink Cadawac<br />
Pink Cadawac<br />
<br />
(cue saxophones!)<br />
<br />HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-5739976098650349962012-02-20T13:38:00.000-08:002012-02-20T13:38:18.594-08:00Houston - the biggest small town in the worldYet again, I find my life in Houston tends to overlap in weird and wonderful ways that I least expect. A brief story of my latest "small world" experience.<br />
<br />
I've been at my new office for nearly 2 months now. I love it here. My coworkers are AMAZING people and I have never had so much fun working. We're still playing the "getting to know you" game and one colleague, "Mark", and I find that our lives have a lot of overlap, but we only recently met. Turns out that he's friends with many of my old classmates from Jr High (his step-brother and I were classmates). Last night, at a Rodeo event with the boss, I ran into an old classmate - one of the few whom I remember with fondness and am genuinely happy to run into (he looks great BTW!). Turns out Mark knows him too and has a similarly complementary opinion of him. <br />
<br />
Disney was right - it IS a small world after all.HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-46038608703630359702012-02-15T09:01:00.000-08:002012-02-15T09:14:42.104-08:00Family Drama: Do I add to it?<div class="fbChatMessage fsm direction_ltr" data-jsid="message" id="msg_244490568911698_1329323121859:2726794974">
I found the Xmas card & check from my biological-paternal-grandmother last night.<br />
</div>
<div class="fbChatMessage fsm direction_ltr" data-jsid="message" id="msg_244490568911698_1329323180117:3121211337">
She got my new last name wrong and left out the "MaidenName-" and only listed me as my husband's last name. I didn't stop being a member of my adoptive family when I got married, thank you very much. </div>
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</div>
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<br />
I'm
sorely tempted to just mail it back to her with a note saying "You went
to K's wedding, but couldn't bother to come to my wedding over
some stupid cows. Apparently, I'm not a real grandchild or member of this family. I'm not interested in having a relationship with
someone who treats me like that."</div>
<div class="fbChatMessage fsm direction_ltr" data-jsid="message" id="msg_244490568911698_1329323247588:1712187418">
</div>
<div class="fbChatMessage fsm direction_ltr" data-jsid="message" id="msg_244490568911698_1329323247588:1712187418">
<br />
But sending a letter like that would really hurt my Pops and probably cause a HUGE argument with other family members. However, why didn't any of them stand up for me and tell their mother/grandmother that she was being really petty and that it's incredibly hurtful to snub a grandchild like that. </div>
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</div>
<div class="fbChatMessage fsm direction_ltr" data-jsid="message" id="msg_244490568911698_1329323247588:1712187418">
<br />
She missed my first wedding in 2005, but it was back in Chicago and my grandfather was too ill to travel and she wouldn't travel without him - I think she made the right choice then. But it also made it all the more important to me that she attend this one - it was local for her, and grandfather had passed several years ago. (And gosh darnit, I travelled for his funeral right after having orthopedic surgery on my arm! Stitches, bandages, vicodin and all!)</div>
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</div>
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<br />
She's also my only living grandparent who acknowledges me. My Mom's father died before I was born and her mom passed before I moved back to Texas. I had no relationship with Dad's father, who died c. 1996, and his mother passed shortly after my Ex-Husband and I split (her last message to me, via Dad, was "Leah's going to be OK.", and gosh darnit, I won't prove her wrong!). My biological mother parents refuse to meet me or even acknowledge me (F*** them! I'm a neat person and I don't need them!).</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="fbChatMessage fsm direction_ltr" data-jsid="message" id="msg_244490568911698_1329323247588:1712187418">
So with that in mind, why on earth am I letting this even bother me? To be honest, I don't know. Maybe I miss my Granny R and I'm trying to find a replacement. IG will never be Granny R. They're vastly different people. </div>
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I know, I know. I should take this to a therapist. Maybe when the new insurance kicks in. Counting the days to April.</div>HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-30560314228544400662012-02-13T09:40:00.000-08:002012-02-13T09:40:58.849-08:00Definitely a hatchet moiderer...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Sherwood Forest Faire opening weekend 2012:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A Tale of Terror</div>
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<br /></div>
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I went camping this last weekend with Ed and 2 friends, Ally
& Ross, for the opening weekend of the Sherwood Forest Faire.</div>
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It's Friday night and we're settled in, freezing our butts
off from lack of fire because we don't have a raised fire pit and in-ground
fires aren't allowed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So we all go to
bed fairly early (well, early for a festival).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At about 3am, a neighboring set of tents that set up some time after we
went to bed starts yelling "Gimme a dollar!" sporadically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This continues until about 7am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meanwhile, campers from those tents are
wondering around the camp grounds, and several tripped over our tent,
specifically the corner by our heads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By
now, Ed is thoroughly pissed off and ready to tackle someone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow (a miracle, I’m sure), I manage to
get him to put away the 9mm and soothe him back to sleep, though the “Gimme a
dollar!” crap continues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ally later said
she was commenting to Ross that Ed must have been pissed and was surprised we
didn’t hear her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ally also deduced from
their conversation that they were probably underage, drinking, and high on
shrooms and that the “Gimme a dollar!” yelling was a rudimentary mating call
(that we later found out worked, much to our disappointment).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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We manage to sleep a wee bit before finally dragging
ourselves out from our tent to get ready for opening day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s about 9 or 10am, when someone shouts “Gimme
a dollar!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ed snaps, grabs the hatchet,
and storms over to the offending tents and starts yelling at the first face he
sees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Meanwhile, Ross is a few steps
behind Ed hoping he doesn’t have to get involved in a fight, and Ally and I are
hiding in our campsite and I’m trying not to hyperventilate.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To be honest, I don’t really recall exactly
what was said, but I know that Ed yelled at them about all the yelling and
tripping over our tent and that they were being giant assholes to all the
neighboring campers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Later that afternoon (after we retired early from the faire,
missing a show we really wanted to see, because we were all too friggin tired
from lack of sleep), the camper Ed yelled at stopped by our site to
apologize.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said his name was Road
Kill, they call themselves the Bum Camp (hence, “Gimme a dollar!”), this was
their first Ren Faire, and they’d heard that faires were basically non-stop
parties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ed had scared him half to
death, and he was telling his camp mates about the incident (some didn’t
believe him about the angry man with the hatchet) and encouraging them to keep
the noise down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some had moved to
another part of the campground already.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ally talked to Road Kill some, explained camp site etiquette (basically,
be good neighbors even if there are no set quiet hours and follow the tone of
the camp ground – if everyone around you is quiet, it’s best to not yell and
shout and trip over tents).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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For the rest of the weekend, Ed was known as “Angry Ax Man.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least Saturday night was quiet.</div>
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Ah, but all was not well in the Bum Camp!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently, Road Kill was harshing on someone’s
groove by trying to get them to be good neighbors and not get kicked out of the
camp site.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was nearly abandoned at
the camp site with no way to get back to Houston, but managed to find a
ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two of him comrades, Tommy and Bat
Man(?) were not so lucky and came to our campsite to 1) make nice and 2) beg
for a ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Though our car was full to bursting, we could have asked
Ross & Ally to carry some of our gear in their truck to make room in our
back seat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But since Ed didn’t offer it
up, I figured he was still pissed and was not interested being that
generous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ross and Ally, being much more
forgiving than Ed, let them ride in the back of their truck all the way from
Paige (just east of Austin) back to Houston in the cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To their credit, Tommy and Bat Man helped
break camp and change a flat on Ross’ truck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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I can only hope that Tommy, Road Kill, and Bat Man take Ally’s
suggestion to re-evaluate their friends.</div>HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-61093578660496206622012-01-27T09:13:00.000-08:002012-01-27T09:13:33.330-08:00Parental ProfessionalismAs my career advances (yay!), I now find myself essentially in the same "industry" as my father - politics. After resigning from my year and half in Low-Income Housing, I worked for my local county's Democratic Party. My Dad, a long time liberal and Democrat, was elated! Finally, the progeny has stopped resisting her fate and has acquiesced to her birthright! <br />
<br />
Okay, so it's not like there were trumpeting cherubim and singing seraphim, but officially getting into politics was a BFD for my Dad. <br />
<br />
I accepted that position knowing that it was temporary. I was Interim Office Head Honcho for the remainder of the (elected) Party Chair's term, and he resigned in December (planned). Basically, I was office manager for the HQ office. <br />
<br />
Now, I am working for a long time friend and newly elected official. Those of you who know me will know who that is, but since he's 1) elected, 2) a dear friend, and 3) my brother from another mother, I won't list his name or seat here in this blog. So you won't see me dishing any dirt here.<br />
<br />
The funniest thing about my new job is that Dad was here. Dad worked for an elected official who was term limited (same level of gov't, different seat than my boss). So on Dec 29th, Dad moved out of his office, and on Dec 30th, I moved into my office - same building, same floor, just a different spot. Many of my new colleagues are Dad's old colleague. So we are now colleagues. Weird. At least Dad was well liked and respected, and thanks to his good reputation, I essentially have some built-in allies and friends already. He loves to call us up, give us "grief", and generally tease us. He loves his new job (in the private sector, but still heavily involved in politics though he vows he's not going to do any campaign work this year), but I think he misses the hubbub of government. <br />
<br />
So it's good to be my Dad's daughter and his colleague. Now, why did I spend so long resisting this????HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-66213746802237979322011-10-14T16:11:00.000-07:002011-10-14T16:11:23.098-07:00Fagor Pressure Cooker, how I love thee. Let me count the waysAfter watching copious amounts of "Good Eats," we got a 4 quart Fagor pressure cooker over the weekend. The inaugural dish was Beef Stroganoff. Holy cow that was amazing!!! I can't believe it took under 45 minutes from prep to plate! And it was TASTY too. I think "BS" will be a regular dish at Chez Nish in the future.<br />
<br />
So now I'm scouring Food Network for more recipes as I know I will quickly exhaust the teeny tiny recipe book that came with the pot. One of the included recipes if Boef Bourgingon, which is definitely on my list of "musts."<br />
<br />
Maybe I'll even don high heels and a pearl necklace and channel my inner Julia Child.
Bon apetit!HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-46422100784884433142011-09-29T15:21:00.000-07:002011-09-29T15:31:59.841-07:00New JobI started a new job nearly 2 months ago. I'm in a MUCH better place here. My job at the HA was being eliminated slowly - first we're not going to be proactive with media anymore. Then the Annual Report for 09/10 was cancelled (per the new Head Dimwit, "I wasn't here, so why should we do it?" Um, because it shows continuity in projects and fiscal matters; because it honors the accomplishments of the staff; oh, and because we promised the Board we'd do one). Then my boss was let go (I think the Dimwit had it out for him from Day 1). And then I was taken off assisting the Non Profit. The writing was on the wall. Plus, I had serious ethical concerns about some major staffing changes. The new Dimwit though a bigger office on the 4th Floor would make me happy? HAHAHAHAHAH! <br /><br />So now I'm at my local Democratic Party HQ, in a much tinier office, with part time volunteer support staff and I love it! I am learning something new every day (sometimes a whole lot of somethings). I'm challenged intellectually. I'm honing skills and talents. I'm learning new skills (like how to manage people). <br /><br />Downsides? No benefits, so even though I'm making the same amount, COBRA's eating a large chunk (and I had to drop Ed from coverage). And I'm putting in a lot more hours. Oh, and I may only be here for a few months because the current chair isn't seeking re-election. So the new chair may not ask me to stay on (though the only person who's filed paperwork to be a chair gets along with me very well, but still). Oh, and it's really high stress. <br /><br />BUT, this is excellent experience. This one of those jobs that can define the rest of my career. And I admit it, I get warm fuzzies that I'm making a meaningful contribution to a cause I feel deeply about. <br /><br />Now, if I could just figure out a way to tell people "There is only 1 of me!!!!! I cannot do everything in 1 friggin day! If you want better articles in the newsletter, you take it on! If you want the website 100% up to date with more features and resources, you are welcome to have it! And no, I cannot make every single club meeting!!! That's MY time and I'd like to spend it with my husband!"<br /><br />*sigh* Guess what, I'm hanging out at the office after hours for a clubs meeting.HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-60730551368229806622010-11-29T13:54:00.000-08:002010-11-29T14:20:03.780-08:00Pepper? Really?The fiance and I just spent 9.5 days hosting his mother for the Thanksgiving holiday. She's a lovely woman, but 9.5 days is a long time to host anyone in your home, and she's a very picky eater. I began dreading meal time. We defaulted to take out a few times, and it seemed like just about every meal was loaded with carbs. I love carbs. LOVE THEM! But they do not love me - especially my waist.<br /><br />I had lost 30 pounds. I think I've gained back 5 in 9.5 days. =P UG. Guess it's time to start running after that Weight Watchers Bandwagon. I could use the extra exercise anyway.<br /><br />Back to the pickiness. I made minute steaks one night. Simple, easy, nearly fool proof right? Wrong. Apparently, one half of the the dynamic duo of basic kitchen seasons, the Wonder Twins that are used in every savory offering is practically poison to my future Mother In Law - pepper. Like any good cook (I dare not call myself "chef" for fear than Anthony Bourdain reigns terror upon my lowly head), I seasoned the steaks with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. I seared the steaks on each side, watching for that perfect balance between tasty brown bits (a very technical term) and over doneness. As I sat down next to my FMIL, I noticed her fussing over her plate. She was PICKING OFF THE PEPPER!!!! "I hate pepper. I can't stand it. It's disgusting." <br /><br />I was crushed. And then I almost immediately become resentful. She was a guest in my home refusing the hospitality I was offering her. I had already planned a lot of the big Thanksgiving Day meal around her preferences to make sure she could eat most of the dishes. And I was getting really tired of hearing "Oh I don't like _____." I wanted to yell "Have you even tried it? When was the last time you tried something new?"<br /><br />She didn't try the green beans I made (with shallots, balsamic and roasted hazel nuts! Yum!). <br />Though I really wanted a pumpkin pie, my mother graciously made an apply pie since that's was FMIL preferred. <br />Her own son made a lovely gazpacho for a soup course - she made tacky comments as he prepared it "How can you eat that?! I can't believe you're putting cucumbers in there!" <br />When our chicken sandwiches from McD's got mixed up, she wrinkled her nose and said "Ew! Pickles!" and started pouting until I pointed out that our sandwiches had been mixed, and a simple swap would solve that (then she pouted that her sandwich was on a whole wheat bun - like whole grains would someone how damage her). <br /><br />I felt like anything green and nutritious had been temporarily exiled from my kitchen and, by extension, my plate. <br /><br />I'm really looking forward to a veggie fest this evening. I NEED GREEN!<br /><br />It didn't help that it seemed that all she could talk about was her daughter. If she complaining about her, she was comparing me to her. It's no secret that I can't stand my fiance's sister. It's also no secret that she doesn't like me. Last night, as I was putting little dollops of whipped cream on my ice cream sammich with each bite, FMIL said "Oh! K does that too!", I really wanted to blurt out "Please don't compare me to her!!!"<br /><br />But I remained silent and silently repeated in my head, "I love my MIL. I love my MIL. The visit is nearly over. Nearly over. Think of all the lovely veggies! Broccoli! Cauliflower! Squash! Butternut! Onions! Tofu! Edamame! Yum yum yum yum."<br /><br />I need a vacation.HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-28931185650957334032010-11-18T09:13:00.000-08:002010-11-18T09:15:04.682-08:00Time to resume the blogNow that I can access my blog again, I will updating more often. I'm aiming for about once a week.<br /><br />So if you've been checking, and checking, and checking since May have been diappointed that I've not posted anything - I'm sorry!!! But your wait is over. <br /><br />Now I need to re-read what I've posted in the past to see if I need to post any updates.HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-76877669676763478002010-05-03T12:38:00.000-07:002010-05-03T12:53:17.309-07:00AnticipationThe garden is teaming with life. All the upside-down tomatoes have blooms and and small tomatoes growing. The Matt's Wild Cherry is covered in small, green, hard, marble like fruits. The Ping Pong Pink has fewer, but larger fruits. The Amish Paste's few fruits are already starting to elongate. And the Sweet 100 is finally starting to get big and has just a couple of itsy bitsy micro-tomatoes forming. The Burpee Big Boy (now called the BBB) has a small fruit on it. The Brandywine is huge, but few blossoms and no fruits yet.<br /><br />We've got a large bell pepper on one Big Bertha, and few other small bells on the other plants. <br /><br />Lots of blossoms on the zucchinis. The crook necks have blossoms, but the plants are still on the small side.<br /><br />The bed cukes are also blooming, but not as large as the upside down cukes. We have tiny little cuke-like growths that are less than 1 inch on most of the plants. <br /><br />We're dying with anticipation. The garden is filled with all these rock hard baby fruits and it feels like it's been this way for AGES! <br /><br />RIPEN! RIPEN I SAY! I COMMAND THEE TO RIPEN!!!<br /><br />Still no okra from Pops. *sigh* <br /><br />It's steadily getting warmer and warmer, so I hope the heat will bring the ripeness. It's still quite cool at 5:30am (often need a sweater to walk the dogs in the morning. The highs are in the 80's. <br /><br />At least it's not so hot that we can't enjoy the deck each evening. We're usually out there after getting home. The dogs run amok (Bon even looks like she's yelling "Amok! Amok!" inside her head as she plays leap-frog over Jack - goofy giant puppy), and we chill with a drink and a small cigar. The skeeters aren't too bad, but they're getting a little worse every week. It's nothing a few squirts of OFF! doesn't help. Ed likes to burn a citronella candle. It's one of those nifty coiled up rope candles. I don't know how effective it actually it, but it looks cool. And Ed doesn't seem to be bothered by the bugs as much when it's burning. I don't notice a difference. <br /><br />So each even, we sit, we smoke, and we try to will the dern plants to ripen through telepathic wishfullness. No luck. And so we wait.....and wait....<br /><br />Maybe, just as watched pot never boils, a watched tomato never ripens?HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-25137927308992531462010-03-30T05:59:00.000-07:002010-03-31T05:57:00.283-07:00Oh Coffee, thy name is Keurig!My boss has a Keurig in the office that he lets the rest of us use. I bring in my own K-cups, and we alternate providing filtered water.<br /><br />I bought a large variety pack of k-cups. I've not tried all the varieties in the box yet, but I'm working my way through. My thoughts so far:<br /><br />English breakfast tea - very good. Just want EBT should taste like (though EBT's aren't my preferred tea). B+<br /><br />Earl Great tea - AWESOME! I love EGT, and this one is very good. My new morning staple. I've already purchased a box. A<br /><br />Organic Green Tea - perfect for an afternoon. I don't like a lot of caffeine, and this is a good option for me. A wee bit bitter, but not anymore bitter than the Flavia green tea I've had at other offices. I have a box of it, but I'm not sure I'll get more once I'm out - not sure that I want a hot beverage in the afternoons with summer on its way. B+<br /><br />Emeril's Big Easy Bold - a big nasty flop in my book. Very harsh flavor. Tasted somewhat burnt. D-<br /><br />French Roast - not bad. Not amazing, but still good. Roast could be richer, but it's not weak. I give this a B. Needs more tasting.<br /><br />Cinnamon Roll (Donut House) - not for me. The cinnamon tasted burned. My Sweetie reports he liked it. D+<br /><br />Butter toffee - yummy! My favorite of the flavor coffees so far. Sweetie reports this is his fav flavored too. B+<br /><br />Nantucket Blend - had this one earlier, but needed to refresh my memory. Today I added one Moo and a bit of FrV dry creamer (the horror!). Smooth, well blended. No bitter after taste. No harshness. A good morning blend. I think I may need to pick more of this up. B++<br /><br />More reviews to come!HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-11516758828885180222010-03-29T15:35:00.000-07:002010-03-29T15:44:27.709-07:00The Garden is here!!!To date, we have planted:<br /><br /><strong>In the bed</strong><br />12 pepper plants - 4 varieties of bell peppers, 3 plants each (purple, green/red, orange, and yellow)<br />6 yellow squash<br />6 zucchini, 3 pickling cucumbers*<br />3 slicing cucumbers <br />room for 9 okra plants from Pops and maybe some onions. <br /><br /><strong>On the deck</strong><br />12 seed potatoes in "grow bags" <br />3 cherry tomatoes (each a different variety - Ping Pong Pink, Matt's Wild Cherry, and Sweet 100) and 1 paste tomato (Amish paste) in upside down planters<br />3 Brandywine tomatoes in a container<br />3 Burpee's Big Boy in a container<br />*we also have one pickling and one slicing cuke that will go into upside down planters <br /><br /><strong>The herb area</strong><br />2 stevias/sweet leafs<br />2 Pesto basil plants<br />2 Italian flat leaf arsley plants<br />Chives in a container<br />Catnip - survived from last year<br />Arp rosemary - also survived from last year<br />2 pots of aloe - rescued from Sissy last year<br /><br />This evening I need to work on the front flower beds. There’s gonna be a whole lotta transplantin’ going on! Mexican heather into the beds, geraniums into the Mex Heather's former pots, 1 boston fern into the shady part of the bed and a Butterfly Weed into that pot (then back to the deck), plus some caladiums and fox tail ferns and 2 more Butterfly weeds into the beds. <br /><br />I am SO thankful I don't have to mow, edge, & blow. Salvador's crew do an awesome job of that for me!HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-20065675836259612812010-03-16T06:41:00.000-07:002010-03-16T06:50:52.328-07:00New jobsStarted a new job at the end of last week. I won't go into much details about the where's, but I'm working in what is essentially the marketing/PR dept of a local organization that does a lot of good work for the people of Houston. I'm excited to be a part of such an organization, and to FINALLY be in a position to use my degree. I started crying this weekend because I was so happy. And then my Sweet Patootie pointed out that I had also gotten the job on my own merits, and not with my Dad's help or any of our family political connections. I can't really describe how good it makes me feel. <br /><br />One of my biggest fears of returning to Houston was that it would reinforce my identity as "Ken's Daughter" - that I would only be a reflection of my Dad's success. While it's certainly helpful at times to be "Ken's Daughter", it's also a lot of pressure. What if I screw up? What if I offend someone? I would hate for my Dad's reputation to be tarnished because of something incredibly stupid that I'd done. And in the ever changing political climate of Houston, what if Dad fell out of favor? Even though he's not an elected official, he's connected to several. In fact, his former boss was recently involved in a big scandal that ruined boss' career. What if Dad's current boss does something scandalous? Dad could be dragged through the mud by association. Would my repuation suffer as well? Afterall, we have a fairly uncommon last name (and I'm often asked at political events if I'm "Ken's Daughter" or "Ken's Wife" or "Kin to Ken") - so making the connection between us is quite easy. <br /><br />So I'm proud that I was able to get this all on my own (save for the fact that my parents raised me and provided countless oppourtunities for me that had contributed to my success - but you get the idea). I'm also relieved. This is my success, and if I fail, it's my failure. Just like all my failures in Chicago.HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-56588499127941828682010-02-06T05:02:00.000-08:002010-02-06T05:08:26.094-08:00Bed HogHow is that a 60 lb dog manages to hog a queen sized bed from a full grown woman? I try to move him back to his "side" (which is more like the middle), but he gives me the side eyes, or makes this pathetic noise halfway between a whine and a groan. <br /><br />Lately, he's been trying to sleep alongside me, facing me, with his head next to mine or on my shoulder. Cute right? Not so much - he needs a bath, and he's REALLY warm. Plus, he leans in, putting his weight towrd me, gently pushing me closer to the edge of the bed.<br /><br />At least he's quiet, unlike a certain Sleeping Loudly in the next room.HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-41160835096088942992009-12-03T14:41:00.000-08:002009-12-03T14:57:51.602-08:00Dog HouseI'm in the dog house. SAM's mad at me that I posted on a social network site "delaying wedding. I hate being poor!"<br /><br />I guess a relative called him. So he texted me that he's really mad at me, used a few expletives, and said I have a big mouth. I'm pissed too. <br /><br />I'm pissed because I DON'T WANT A WEDDING. I just want to be married and get on with our lives. I don't need an elaborate event to prove I love him. I don't want the stress of planning a wedding. And I don't want to spend a bunch of money on just one day. It's not worth it to me. <br /><br />There's a few factors at play. 1) I've already had a Big White Wedding from a marriage that ended in divorce. I don't want want to go through the stress of planning another BWW, I'm already over wanting the "dream wedding" (I'd rather have a good marriage), and since we spent so much money on just one day, I'm not too keen on doing that again. 2) SAM eloped with his first wife. So I understand that he WANTS a wedding (partially because I think some of his family is pressuring him to have one). BUT, he's not been involved much in doing any of the research and planning. I have a hunch all of that will fall on me - partly because I'm the bride and partly because I'm not working right now. <br /><br />BUT, if this election goes well, I'm about to become CRAZY busy. So won't have much time available to plan a wedding. And my Dad's about to start running another election (which rules out fall 2010). <br /><br />So I'm about ready to just say "F it all!" I'm starting to feel like it's more important to him to have his dream wedding (that we can't afford - hence the delay) than it is for me to be his partner. <br /><br />I want to scream and cry at the same time.HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-46125350403276178582009-12-01T09:50:00.000-08:002009-12-01T09:57:13.889-08:00I need another vacationMy darling Secret Asian Man's (aka Ed) mother stayed with us for OVER a week for Thanksgiving. While she was an excellent house guest, long visits are still very stressful, and I'm happy to have my house back to myself. <br /><br />Thanksgiving day was more or less succesful. We hosted 11 people! 11! (Why do I feel like I'm in "This is Spinal Tap"?) The turkey turned out beautiful - we brined it a la Alton Brown's "Good Eats". And we had too many sides and desserts, but is it really Thanksgiving unless there's too much food? <br /><br />But a whole week without adequate access to the internet was tough. I feel so out of the loop! So I'm frantically trying to catch up on my blogs & fav community site before I head out to do more phoning for Mr L's campaign. Early voting has started, and election day is around the corner! EEK!HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-7027657351418087412009-11-13T11:23:00.000-08:002009-11-13T13:25:15.416-08:00Tilapia Helper & other experimentsWe're a little prone to experimenting in the Oli-Nish family kitchen. Though for the record, Ed's not allowed to "experiment" anymore except on his own plate. Early in our dating he tried to create wonderful dishes for me, and they flopped. The salmagundi he attempted would have been a lovely "leftovers" stew (which is what salmagundi basically is). Only pasta should not be allowed to stay in a crock pot for a whole day. It made a great thickener, but was barely recognizable as pasta. <br /><br />The second "Ed Surprise" was an even more colossal failure. I don't think I will ever let him live it down. We were gifted with some wonderful ground venison, and were itching for chili. Alas, we were out of chili seasoning packets - but Ed thought that the taco packets we had would substitute just fine. I think it was the worst thing I've ever tasted that was technically edible. Venison and taco seasoning should never be in same thought process, let alone dish. Yetch! <br /><br />But even though Ed's been banned from experimenting, I've had more success with it. Back in college and act of poverty and desperation lead to "Pink Pork Chops" - a successful experiment from marinading and cooking pork chops in red wine vinaigrette salad dressing. Though the gravy's pink too, it's pretty tasty. <br /><br />A bored and bare cupboard afternoon in college (what is it with college?) let to the discovery that nutella really does taste good on just about anything, including baked chicken. Though I think I'll save that odd combination for pregnancy some day.<br /><br />A Rachel Ray recipe inspired my new love of Brussels Sprout - as long as they've been lightly steamed then sauteed with butter, onions, garlic, and BACON! (but then, bacon makes <em>everything</em> better)<br /><br />The most recent experiment was also a success: Tilapia Helper. Yesterday, while emailing back & forth, the usual question was asked: Any ideas for dinner? Ed was feeling fish, and we have a bunch of individually packaged frozen tilapia fillets in the freezer. I'd been avoiding them after discovering that being frozen hadn't done much to preserve their texture. And then it dawned on me - surely we have a box of Tuna Helper somewhere in the kitchen? Canned tuna's texture is a bit lacking, and tilapia's a very mild flavored fish. I I wonder if this will work......<br /><br />It was a hit! Normally, tuna helper's not too high on my list of dishes I look forward too. After spending 5 years with a Hamburger Helper addict (the ExH), I wasn't too keen on anything called "Helper". =P But Ed seems to like the stuff, and it's a great excuse for him to do some experimenting on his own plate - usually with the addition of canned or frozen veggies. (though I have to admit that the cheesier HH's are good with a dash of curry powder)<br /><br />So while the tilapia was browning in some butter, I opened the last box of Tuna Helper - Fettuccine Alfredo. It was SO good. <br /><br />I wonder what I'll do next in the kitchen.......HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3669174118590029201.post-21632376227177883332009-11-10T07:46:00.000-08:002009-11-10T10:42:49.140-08:00Thanks for reminding me I'm losing my jobI'm filling in for a gentleman, Mr N, who recently ran for election. He decided to take a leave of absence, and so I have been filling in for him since the end of August. If he won the election, there was a very good probability I would have been offered his old position full time. He didn't win the election, and I have not been officially told whether or not he's returning to this position.<br /><br />The last time I saw him (day before the election), he told me he did not intend to return to the position and that he thought that another elected official may offer him a staff position. HOWEVER, The candidate for whom I'd been volunteering (Mr L - running for a different position), spoke to Mr N last night and Mr N told him that he is returning to the position on Monday. I found this out about 30 minutes ago from my Dad, one of Mr L's closest friends and advisors. <br /><br />Since the election, I've had many coworkers ask me if Mr N is coming back, sometimes dropping by my cubicle to ask. I've done my best to smile and answer something like "Oh, I'm not sure. I haven't heard anything yet." But on the inside, I'm screaming "Gee, thanks for reminding me I may be out of a job soon. You don't see me stopping by your work area and asking if you've been laid off yet. Moron!"<br /><br />Just 5 minutes ago, a coworker dropped by my cubicle to ask if Mr N was coming back. I didn't even recognize this guy. But everyone around here knows Mr N and I'm in his old cubicle. This time, instead of my usual vague answer, in my emotional state, replied "You know, but asking me that reminds me that I may not have a job soon." He stumbled over some words, tried to reassure me that they'd find a way to keep me, and then patted me on the back. (WTF? You remind me I could lose my job and then pat me on my back? I never said you could touch me!)<br /><br />What gives? Why do people think it's okay to just drop in and remind me I'm about to be unemployed, again, around the holidays. I just want to slam their stupid heads into my desk. It takes every ounce of propriety I have not to yell "So, have you been laid off yet?"<br /><br />I want to crawl under my desk and cry. <br /><br />So I'm slowly packing up my personal stuff out of my desk drawers and will start slowly taking my things home with me. <br /><br />Mr L's in a runoff, and I know he wants me to come work his campaign full time. But I'm worried that I won't be able to afford my health insurance (which was absolutely the most pitiful thing I've ever seen). And even after that the situation's tenuous as Mr L can't offer me anything officially until he's elected. If he's not elected, I really don't know what I'm going to do.<br /><br />PART 2<br /><br />Now I'm starting to get pissed. 1) Mr N should have told this himself. I shouldn't have heard it from anyone but him. 2) I fee like he LIED to me. He's told be at least twice now that he didn't intend to return, but he's told my MOTHER that he might, and now he's told Mr L that he will. When we would run into each other at election/campaign events, we would hug and chat and ask about each other's SO and were very friendly. Now I feel like he's completely stabbed me in the back.<br /><br />I really wanna give him a piece of my mind (a few colorful words come to mind), but 1) that would be rude and 2) I don't want to say anything I would regret.<br /><br />Still, I hate stewing in this. Grrr.HeebyJeebyLeebeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08789093420824649640noreply@blogger.com0