I'd apologize for the huge gap in posting, but nobody reads this thing, so it doesn't really matter, does it...
2010 was... interesting... I moved alot (yeah, that's nothing new), my sister had her third baby (darling little Emma Irene - I've got to give my sis and bro-in-law credit - they make some of the most gorgeous children i've ever seen - really - it's kinda weird). I finally had the colon resection, which later came open at the incision - inside, that is. Did you know that air trapped in your body cavity can end up around your heart and make you think you're having a heart attack? Or that it can take, say, three months to be able to sit on the toilet without feeling that same pain in your chest since there's no easy way for air to leave your body after that point? Not fun, my non-existant readers, let me tell you. In a way, though, it was one of the best things that happened this year.
I'm not that much of masochist, really... After I ended up back in the hospital (after a huge fight w/ my mother and the incision coming open) the very first night I had spent alone after the first surgery, an unexpected offer came my way.
Do you know about Burning Man, oh Reader-who-does-not-exist? I had actually run into it while looking for costume ideas (BM and EL Wire are like hippies and pot - there isn't necessarily a correlation ALL of the time, but pretty darned close). Once Naked J came on the scene as a last-minute step-in for the RHPS at the York Strand/Capital, he introduced me to a number of friends, who happened to be "burners." Cue happy music... These people were sometimes loud, often glittery, extrememly huggy and entirely welcoming. Before long, I was hooked into the burner-life, even though i'd never inhaled playa dust.
Well, M&M took me in when I got out of the hospital again. I had known them about two months. They put up with the visiting nurses and the paraphenalia of my PICC line. They fed my cats and loved them. They took me to my appointments and to get my medications. They were the best friends a person could have - and they barely knew me.
Damn. Sitting here and typing this, I'm getting teary eyed. I've been so not myself for so long, have i really lost so much touch with what really matters?
In short, they came to my rescue.
How does one repay that kind of selflessness? Oh, karma... be kind...
Now this post REALLY doesn't make sense. So be it. That's the advantage of not having any readers.
Perhaps I shouldn't have taken my pain pills (yeah, still) before starting this... hmmm... pt. 2 tomorrow... and hopefully, more coherently.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
I am not an artist
(aka: Jane of all Trades speaks out)
I am not an artist. However, I have a number of friends who are and let me tell you, nothing will make you feel less of an artist than going to see their new installation at a gallery, or even perusing their portfolio. I've spent a great deal of time and energy trying to find some spark of Talent-with-a-capital-T in an artistic endeavor.
When it came to school projects, I did just fine. My mother even tapped me to make my sister's Mythology final project (i did a mosaic of one of the tortures of Hades and got a better grade on it then when i had done my own project for the class two years prior - grrrrrr)
For a while, I followed my college friends (who were almost all artists or musicians) as they worked on their various projects. In an effort to keep them company (and, inadvertently, give them something at which to laugh), I would attempt whatever craft they were currently doing. There were the clay candlesticks that shattered in the kiln (that was fine - they kind of looked like dildos made by someone who was both blind and missing opposable thumbs). My plaster sculpture (first attempt at 3-D sculpture carving) was supposed to be a Goddess figure. She ended up being more of a tribute to the Lady as She might look if she were a kind of fluid stone (i'm obsessed with "The Third Eye" from the early 80's on Nickelodeon). The painting... well, let's not even discuss it beyond: there are 5th graders who paint better than i do. Drawing wasn't much better. Metal-work, oddly, went the best. I made a teeny-tiny little copper bowl with what turned out to be a really nifty burgundy effect on the outside (a serendipitous mistake, to be sure). Too bad it had a tiny hole in the very middle - guess i hit that nail too hard.
After that, I pretty much stuck to my violin and writing for indie magazines.
Over the years, I've tried oils, acrylics, wood carving, furniture making, calligraphy, pastels, charcoal, ribbon work, quilting, clay, doll making, glass etching, tile work, jewelry making, cooking, baking, and the list goes on and on. The upshot of them all?
Eh.
That's it, just "eh." Perhaps better than what my mother can do (she maintains she hasn't an artistic bone in her body), but not great. Just good enough to realize how much better it could be.
So, here I am, just shy of 35, still looking for that Talent when it suddenly occurs to me.
Who gives a shit?
Seriously... what does it matter? A month and more ago, I spent a few hours with my niece and nephew, making play dough birds and snowmen and so on. At Katie's request, I make a daddy bird and a mommy bird and 8 (yes, 8) baby birds, all complete with wings, tiny beaks and eyes that, when finished, fit on my little fingernail with room left over. After the family was complete, I showed her how to make snowmen and how to make an itty bitty striped scarf for them out of the dough. I made a comment to my sister that the kids think I can make ANYTHING out of anything! If it's a craft of some sort, it ends up in my lap. A few weeks later, I visited again and found that Katie had made craft paper backgrounds for the birds and snowmen and wouldn't hear of them being thrown out.
Touched, it finally hit me. Who cares that I'll never paint a masterpiece? So what if I never have a bestselling novel? As far as Katie and Ethan are concerned, I am an artist. In their eyes, I can make clay into something magical and tell stories with voices to make them giggle and beg for more. They have total faith in my ability to, well, make anything out of anything. You know what? Every time I manage to pull it off, every time Ethan looks out from those long lashes and Katie's eyes begin to sparkle, every time I hear them laugh that wonderful, uncontained belly laugh, that's the only Talent I need - the Talent to bring a bit of magic to the people I care for the most.
I am not an artist. However, I have a number of friends who are and let me tell you, nothing will make you feel less of an artist than going to see their new installation at a gallery, or even perusing their portfolio. I've spent a great deal of time and energy trying to find some spark of Talent-with-a-capital-T in an artistic endeavor.
When it came to school projects, I did just fine. My mother even tapped me to make my sister's Mythology final project (i did a mosaic of one of the tortures of Hades and got a better grade on it then when i had done my own project for the class two years prior - grrrrrr)
For a while, I followed my college friends (who were almost all artists or musicians) as they worked on their various projects. In an effort to keep them company (and, inadvertently, give them something at which to laugh), I would attempt whatever craft they were currently doing. There were the clay candlesticks that shattered in the kiln (that was fine - they kind of looked like dildos made by someone who was both blind and missing opposable thumbs). My plaster sculpture (first attempt at 3-D sculpture carving) was supposed to be a Goddess figure. She ended up being more of a tribute to the Lady as She might look if she were a kind of fluid stone (i'm obsessed with "The Third Eye" from the early 80's on Nickelodeon). The painting... well, let's not even discuss it beyond: there are 5th graders who paint better than i do. Drawing wasn't much better. Metal-work, oddly, went the best. I made a teeny-tiny little copper bowl with what turned out to be a really nifty burgundy effect on the outside (a serendipitous mistake, to be sure). Too bad it had a tiny hole in the very middle - guess i hit that nail too hard.
After that, I pretty much stuck to my violin and writing for indie magazines.
Over the years, I've tried oils, acrylics, wood carving, furniture making, calligraphy, pastels, charcoal, ribbon work, quilting, clay, doll making, glass etching, tile work, jewelry making, cooking, baking, and the list goes on and on. The upshot of them all?
Eh.
That's it, just "eh." Perhaps better than what my mother can do (she maintains she hasn't an artistic bone in her body), but not great. Just good enough to realize how much better it could be.
So, here I am, just shy of 35, still looking for that Talent when it suddenly occurs to me.
Who gives a shit?
Seriously... what does it matter? A month and more ago, I spent a few hours with my niece and nephew, making play dough birds and snowmen and so on. At Katie's request, I make a daddy bird and a mommy bird and 8 (yes, 8) baby birds, all complete with wings, tiny beaks and eyes that, when finished, fit on my little fingernail with room left over. After the family was complete, I showed her how to make snowmen and how to make an itty bitty striped scarf for them out of the dough. I made a comment to my sister that the kids think I can make ANYTHING out of anything! If it's a craft of some sort, it ends up in my lap. A few weeks later, I visited again and found that Katie had made craft paper backgrounds for the birds and snowmen and wouldn't hear of them being thrown out.
Touched, it finally hit me. Who cares that I'll never paint a masterpiece? So what if I never have a bestselling novel? As far as Katie and Ethan are concerned, I am an artist. In their eyes, I can make clay into something magical and tell stories with voices to make them giggle and beg for more. They have total faith in my ability to, well, make anything out of anything. You know what? Every time I manage to pull it off, every time Ethan looks out from those long lashes and Katie's eyes begin to sparkle, every time I hear them laugh that wonderful, uncontained belly laugh, that's the only Talent I need - the Talent to bring a bit of magic to the people I care for the most.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
A bad, bad girl...
Ahhhhh... the days are starting to grow cooler, the trees have the dusty mature green look to them... time to gather up some patterns and start sewing some new items, wouldn't you say? My trusty old Kenmore finally bit the dust and would cost more to fix then to replace. Of course, that meant I just had to go out and get a new machine this weekend.
Gee. Darn.
Unfortunately, I couldn't afford anything near the machine I really wanted - the kind that embroiders and overlocks and changes the cat litter and makes the coffee and so on. What I ended up getting was a Project Runway Brother. It's my first computerized machine and I am sooooooooo anxious to use it!
Then there was JoAnn's. (sigh) Remember the days when they had sales where you could buy a pattern for only .99? I suppose those days are gone - the best you can find now is $1.99. Not only that, but there's a limit of 10 per person! Horrid, horrid miserly pattern hoarders! Luckily, my mother is not a sewer, so I was able to pawn off an extra 10 into her cart. Add some nifty brown paisley moleskin, some thread and a bit of interfacing and you have... that nice skirt pictured up above. Hopefully, I'll actually get a picture of this one, since I'm making it for myself. A concept, I know, but I really do need work clothing for the fall.
Now, if I only I didn't have a director's meeting for RHPS tonight...
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Letters from the Cube - Day 16
July 16, 2009
The rally on the Capital Steps seemed to be a success. Hundreds of us were there, waving our signs, shouting our slogans - I was hoping for a burning in effigy of Rendell, but alas, it did not happen. Do I think any of the politicians were influenced by our energetic frustration? No. Do I think Rendell was even in his office as (unpaid) State Police and union members protested outside his door? No. Do I think that sunblock would have been wise, considering we were in glaring sunshine on white marble steps? Oh, yes. (pass me the aloe, please?)
The rally did lift our spirits somewhat - at least for the rest of the day.
In an effort to create the illusion that we can actually do something to change the situation, I created a Facebook cause. Now, the way Facebook causes work, you need to set up a charity to receive donations, should anyone who joins your group wish to do so. After an excruciatingly long period of thought,
I decided that the best charity would be the Central Pennsylvania Food Bank. Why would I choose that particular worthy organization? The Powers That Be (PTB) were kind enough to send an email to inform us that the Food Bank would be donating a box of food every two weeks per state employee, as long as we call after July 20th and bring our state identification with us. I guess that means I'll have to remove the "Budget Hostage" sticker that is currently my i.d..In order to support myself, I have decided to go into business. I'm currently taking orders for the King Ed Rendell Voodoo Dolls I am creating. Perhaps, if I'm lucky, I'll make enough to retire by the time they actually sign the budget!
Monday, July 13, 2009
Letters from the Cube - Day 13
July 13, 2009
Morale continues to sink. Our government has shown exactly what they think of us - which is not much. The Governor said he would "not balance the budget of the backs of the state workers." What lies. Perhaps I should give him the benefit of the doubt - perhaps it's not our backs he is balancing it on, but another part of our anatomy.
Linda did not come in today and did not call off. We fear the worst.
There is rumor of a rally tomorrow on the Capital steps. Many of us are taking off in order to march.
The building owner wouldn't put the Valium in the vending machine, but he did put in Rolaids. The entire row was gone by 10am.
So little will left...
Morale continues to sink. Our government has shown exactly what they think of us - which is not much. The Governor said he would "not balance the budget of the backs of the state workers." What lies. Perhaps I should give him the benefit of the doubt - perhaps it's not our backs he is balancing it on, but another part of our anatomy.
Linda did not come in today and did not call off. We fear the worst.
There is rumor of a rally tomorrow on the Capital steps. Many of us are taking off in order to march.
The building owner wouldn't put the Valium in the vending machine, but he did put in Rolaids. The entire row was gone by 10am.
So little will left...
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Letters from the Cube - Day 8
July 8, 2009
It has now been over a week. Morale is at an all-time low, but I fear that we have not yet come within spelunking range of the bottom. The Commissioner continues to do his duty, but he is keeping a low profile. Though the pictures of the Tyrant still litter the walls, it is more likely because none of us want to be pink slipped for destroying government property. Those lucky people in Iraq - at least they were allowed to topple their dictator's statue.
The strain is starting to tell on us all. I heard a group of employees begging the building owner to put Rolaids and Valium in the vending machines. I myself have proposed that we replace the water in the water coolers with vodka. (Since we can't pay the bill anyway, we might as well get the upgrade until we are cut off entirely.)
I'm worried about my cubemates. Harry's bull-dog face now looks like a bassethound. Linda has developed a nervous tic in the right side of her jaw and I'm pretty sure I heard Angie (she is an elder at my family's church) muttering something to do with cement, chains and an AK-47.
I'm keeping my head low and trying to keep up good spirits, but my dreams haunt me...
It has now been over a week. Morale is at an all-time low, but I fear that we have not yet come within spelunking range of the bottom. The Commissioner continues to do his duty, but he is keeping a low profile. Though the pictures of the Tyrant still litter the walls, it is more likely because none of us want to be pink slipped for destroying government property. Those lucky people in Iraq - at least they were allowed to topple their dictator's statue.
The strain is starting to tell on us all. I heard a group of employees begging the building owner to put Rolaids and Valium in the vending machines. I myself have proposed that we replace the water in the water coolers with vodka. (Since we can't pay the bill anyway, we might as well get the upgrade until we are cut off entirely.)
I'm worried about my cubemates. Harry's bull-dog face now looks like a bassethound. Linda has developed a nervous tic in the right side of her jaw and I'm pretty sure I heard Angie (she is an elder at my family's church) muttering something to do with cement, chains and an AK-47.
I'm keeping my head low and trying to keep up good spirits, but my dreams haunt me...
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Tips for Those Contacting Tech Support
Okay, I know this is off-topic, but I'm about ready to chisel my way through the painted-closed windows behind my cube and take a swan dive. (currently, the building owners are in the process of replacing all of our old, double hung, open-able windows for sleek 1-piece sheet windows - perhaps they don't want to take responsibility for us screaming obscenities at the Governor before plummeting to our deaths)
I've been working at various tech support jobs for 10+ years. Private industry, ISPs and, now, government. In other words - I know of what I speak... er, type.
What follows are a few pointers for those who call for tech support. Read them. Take them to heart. Please. I'm begging you...
Think Ahead!
I've been working at various tech support jobs for 10+ years. Private industry, ISPs and, now, government. In other words - I know of what I speak... er, type.
What follows are a few pointers for those who call for tech support. Read them. Take them to heart. Please. I'm begging you...
Think Ahead!
The chances are, the tech will ask you to write down some sort of information (i.e. a reference number, a password, etc.). Many techs are monitored as to the number of calls they make per day or per hour (in some cases, they are paid based on those numbers, or obtain bonuses based upon them). If we have to sit and wait as you rummage around looking for a working pen or a scrap of paper, we're not going to be happy.- If you are calling to make a payment - HAVE THE CREDIT CARD OUT BEFORE YOU CALL!
- Are you calling about a license of some sort? A filing? An email or internet account? If you don't have your information memorized, look it up and have it ready before you call.
- If you can't find/remember your information, be prepared to be asked for your social security number - that is often the only way we have of verifying you or looking up your account information. Don't fight us on it - we can't help you if you refuse to give the information we need to be of assistance. Honestly - we don't give a #$%! what your ssn is.
If you are calling in response to a letter you received, for all that's holy to you, have it ready when you call!
Please keep in mind that the tech you are talking to CAN NOT SEE WHAT'S ON YOUR SCREEN! (most of you - i hope - are shaking your heads at this one, but you may be surprised just how many people think we all have Big Brother-esque capabilities) While I appreciate that you think we are omniscient, when you say "it's over there," we have no idea what you're referring to.
If we tell you to reboot your machine or modem, we're not trying to slough you off (or at least, that's not all of it). Seriously, it is the first step for a large number of issues. Oh, and when we insist that you "do it again" when you say you've already rebooted, it's because we get lied to alot about it and if we spend 20+ minutes teching your issue and it "miraculously" starts working again when you finally reboot, we're going to be pissed. Seriously, I've heard the Microsoft shut down/log on music AFTER someone swore up and down that they had already rebooted and, lo and behold, their problem "suddenly disappeared." Count yourself lucky that I couldn't bite your nose through the phone.
Remember taking those standardized tests in school and how DO NOT WORK AHEAD was always trumpeted across the end of each section? Well, DO NOT WORK AHEAD applies to tech calls as well. Please, do not click on something until we tell you to. Do not assume that we WANT you to click on it yet. Who knows, you may need to right click, or double click, or fill in more information before you can click anything at all.
By the way... yes, we have already heard the jokes about the "any key" and the "cup holder."
If you're wrong about something, man up and admit it; you'll gain our respect, which is not easy to do when we've been chained by the ear to a cubicle for 8-10 hours.
Just so you know - female techs know what they're doing just as well as male techs.
There may be times when you hear us chuckle - I am guilty of this when what I really want to do is tear the phone out of the caller's hand and beat them about the head and shoulders. We aren't laughing at you, honestly. For all you know, the guy who sits in the cubicle across the aisle just did a great pantomime of stabbing himself with a letter opener as the person on HIS line rattles on about his sprained ankle or her six cats, one of whom has a hairball issue. My favorite was when I got hit smack in the middle of the forehead with a marshmallow while on a call. (check out thinkgeek.com for cubicle war paraphernalia)
3 Terms You May Not Know
RTFM - Real the F*&%#!'n Manual
PEBKAC - Problem Exists Between Keyboard And Chair
ID-10T Error - (hint - squoosh it together)
Lest you think I'm exaggerating, let me tell you a little story - a true story...
I was working as tech support for a large law firm. One of the partners was a notorious misogynist who refused would hang up on us if one of the women in the department answered (just two: a wonderful Jewish lady w/ one hell of a sense of humor and myself). Since I was low girl on the totem pool, I had the crappy 2nd shift, which meant I was the ONLY tech after 6pm. So, Mr. Partner comes storming into the office, looking around for one of the guys and finally saw Mike (cohort in crime and smart-ass extraordinaire). Mr. Partner yelled and shouted and made grandiose hand gestures, illustrating his frustration at having worked on a brief since 10 that morning and he lost the whole thing because the "piece of shit computer lost it" and wouldn't turn back on. After much bluster, Mike informed Mr. Partner that he was running a very sensitive "memory allocation and distribution algorithm" that needed his undivided attention, but that he was sure that I would be able to help him. (if i recall, he was actually checking the movie listings for the upcoming weekend)
So, off we go to Mr. Partner's lovely office. I sat down at the desk, took a quick glance, then looked up at the bull pacing and puffing behind me (literally - i could feel his breath stir my hair) and said, with as sweet a smile as I could manage, "Why don't you go down and get a cigarette while I troubleshoot this?" (as a smoker, you get to know the people in your office who are smokers as well) He stomped out of the room. I turned back around and TURNED ON THE MONITOR. Yep, he had hit the screen and had managed to turn off the monitor and couldn't figure out what happened to his brief.
When he came back, the brief was on the screen and saved. He was so impressed, he didn't even get angry when I reminded him about the importance of saving his work frequently "in case it happens again." Of course, I didn't tell him just what the issue was. There's no harm in being thought a goddess, is there?
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