My Very First Time

It has happened. I've been tagged. It's my first time. Be gentle. L. Britt tagged me. Woman can write. Perhaps you should peruse her writen insights when you have a free moment.

Four Jobs I've Had
1. Paper route. Better known as Paper Girl Extraordinaire. Sort of. I was 11. It was Indiana. Indiana gets damn cold in the winter. The Indianapolis Star has 2 printings - a morning and an evening edition. I delivered the evening right after school. It was great because it let me put the most perfect, brown leather bomber jacket on layaway at some teenie-bopper store at the mall and buy the whole thing with my own money. The lining was some terrible rayon that I had convinced myself was silk, and there was a world map printed on it. It was fabulous. The route had it's bad points, too. Like when all the papers blew free of their plastic strap before I got home and I got my rain boots stuck in the thick, cold midwestern Autumn mud trying to pick the flying pages out of the neighbors' tree limbs. Or the time we had a bad blizzard and people actually complained because their papers were late.

2. Caterer. It was super tough work, but I loved it. Good cash money, steady business, and I got to cook. Even got to hire my little brother to help me on jobs when he wasn't in school. On September 11, 2001 I was at work when the planes hit. The Pentagon was in flames and everyone at the airports was stranded. Dulles was close. I had a van. My boss and I went to main terminal - he was concerned there would be women travelling with small children and maybe elderly folks who didn't have a place to stay. They couldn't get flights out and the hotels all filled up fast. We waited until the last person had been found a room before we left. We were going to bring people home with us. We had the van and each had spare bedrooms. We could fit a couple families. Later that night on the news among all the interviews I saw a man we had spent the afternoon with. He said he didn't even get our names, but if there was any chance that the 2 caterers were watching he wanted to say thanks for making sure he and his family had a roof over their heads. I didn't cook anything that day but it was the best part of that job.

3. An unnamed gig at Ralph Lauren. Yep. Sounds glam, eh? Not really. It looks great on my resume. But I wouldn't do it again.

4. Print Production Project Manager. I did fundraising for non-profits. I liked it a lot. I'm a paper geek. I like the feel of it, the ink, the tactile sensation of holding a physical result of your work in your hand. Plus, it's always nice when your hard work helps raise money for good causes.


Four Movies I Can Watch Over and Over
1. Bad Boys II. I swear to you I am not kidding. It's hilarious and the action sequences are fun. Plus, Will Smith looks great in this movie.

2. A Christmas Story. When the 24 hour marathon starts Christmas Eve I am a happy camper.

3. Garden State. Braff, you da man. I like the humor and the nothingness and the meaning.

4. The Breakfast Club/Ferris Beuller's Day Off. Either of these I can watch from any point. If I catch it on cable and it's in the middle, I'll watch it. Near the end, I'll watch it. I don't care. I will watch these movies nearly every time I stumble across them on TV.


Four Places I've Lived
1. Washington, D.C.

2. Pittsburgh, PA

3. Brooklyn, NY

4. Bloomington, IN


Four TV Shows I Love
1. "Law and Order". Say what you will, this is a great series. Besides, Jesse L. Martin - yummy. Also, we miss you, Lenny.

2. Project Runway. You're in, auf wiederzhen. Either way, I love it.

3. "House" - He's so snarky...I dig him.**No edit needed to L. Britt's answer. Snarky is the perfect word for him. Hugh Lorrie is fantastic.

4. "CSI" and "Without a Trace" - That CBS Thursday night lineup is hot. I can't believe I used "CBS" and "hot" in the same sentence. **Again, no edit needed. I think this chick has fabulous taste.


Four Places I've Vacationed
1. New York, NY (pretty funny)

2. Toronto, ON

3. Miami, FL (that makes me giggle, too)

4. Las Vegas, NV


Four Favorite Dishes
1. My mom's chicken tetrazzini, LORD IT'S TASTY. Been my favorite for as long as I can remember.

2. Beans & Franks. With big chunks of hot dog in it. I'm so serious about this.

3. Cranberry sauce - the jelly kind. I know this isn't so much of a "dish" per se, but I love the stuff.

4. Canneloni de Casa from Old Ebbitt Grill. Mmmmmmmmm


Four Sites I Visit Daily
1. eatsnarf

2. Fried Catfish and Collard Greens

3. The New York Times

4. L. Britt - she is able


Four Places I Would Rather Be Right Now
1. New York - Brooklyn, to be exact

2. Washington, DC - so I could visit my girl Kristie and see my family.

3. Paris

4. Malta or Santorini

Who's Next?
1. Kristie

2. Really, Kristie is the only person I feel I can tag, because I'm late to this whole thing and everyone's done this already (well, the people I think would do it have already done it).

3. So, if you want to do it, do it! And let me know you did it so I can come read it.

4. I mean it.

True Respect and an Idiot

Firstly - Coretta Scott King, thank you. Thank you for holding your husband's message up to the light and keeping the public eye focused on the injustice of discrimination. Thank you for standing up for civil rights in all forms - race, sexuality, age, economy, etc. - and being a face that showed the pain and hope of the 1960s and kept that alive for generations to come. You will be missed.

Second - and far, far less important. Sales Guy here at work is pissing me off. As I've explained to him multiple times (read: at least 2x a week since August) I do not have access to company email addresses other than the ones from this department. I'm a contractor, I have limited access rights for the various systems we use here. He knows I can't send emails to anyone outside this small section of cubicles. And yet, he asks me to send things all the time. Like just now, AGAIN. I said, "Sales Guy, I've told you literally a hundred times that I can't send things outside this department." He said, "Is that because you don't want to?" I couldn't stand it. I couldn't freaking stand it. I looked at him, and with a straight face said, "Yep, it sure is." It was fun watching him walk away, bewildered.

Third - Cuban Lady keeps farting and it smells like death.

Fingers Crossed

Interview went well. Very well. I think I'll get an offer. I hope I'll get an offer. I really have a good feeling about the position and the company and I think they'll bring me aboard. So, that's excellent. I ended up interviewing for 2 different positions while I was there. There was the one I knew about and prepared myself for, and then there was a comparable position in another division of the company. No one informed me beforehand that there would be an additional interview, so I was caught slightly off guard, but I was alright with it.

The first one went great - swimmingly well, actually. The people I interviewed with were fantastic and their approach was really nice. I'd feel good about accepting a position on their team. We finished up and guy #1 took me to see guy #2 in the other division. I could tell from little comments that guy #1 made that he wasn't sure how I'd feel about guy #2 and his team. He didn't come right out and say guy #2 is a douche, but I got his point loud and clear. Turns out he was right.

I walked into guy #2's office and he was on the phone. He motioned for me to sit. I did. He proceeded to have a 5 minute conversation about football (nothing business-related), completely unconcerned with the fact that I was waiting for him to get off the phone and interview me... and I was sitting right across the desk from him. He got off the phone and looked me up and down. Not in the creepy man-woman way, in the condescending man-thinking-a-woman-isn't-as-smart-as-him way. Which is almost worse. He looked at my resume and said to me, "I don't see anything on here to tell me that this job wouldn't scare you shitless." Hmm. Nice choice of swear words to use in a freaking corporate job interview. I especially liked the middle-aged, fat Italian New Yorker way that he said it. He then started in on how this position "means deadlines, lots of 'em, high pressure, you have no idea what kind of pressure this is... blah de blah de blah." Here's the thing, since I've been in project management for the past 9 years I actually know that it's all about deadlines and pressure. That's the job - no matter what industry. But hey, thanks for telling me what I already know. I am a woman, after all, I could have forgotten.

It went downhill from there. 17 minutes later I was still cordial, I smiled, I even sat there patiently through all 6 phone calls he had taken during the previous 16 minutes I was in his office (mmm hmm). He then said he didn't think I had any idea what the job entailed in a way that let me know loud and clear he thought I was incapable. With the fake smile still plastered on my professional mug, my response was, "Pardon my obvious ignorance, but since I wasn't informed that I'd be meeting with you today I'm completely unaware of the position details. In fact, you haven't so much as mentioned the job title yet, so perhaps if you'd give me an overview of the position I'd have a better idea." I refrained from saying that if I thought he could bend over enough past that fat gut I'd tell him to kiss my ass. If I had to work for that testostodrone I'd cry every day.

Luckily, the first interview went so well that I didn't want to jeopardize it by telling fatso where to shove it. That made me bite my tongue. I called guy #1 when I left the bldg. and left a message saying I had forgotten to ask what his target timeframe was for filling the position, in all the conversation we had it was the one thing I failed to ask. He called back not 2 minutes later and we had a great short chat about how he thinks I'd fit in well with the team and he really likes my experience and how he's happy because HR has no other candidates lined up for the position, so it should be a short process. Basically, he said they'd extend me an offer w/o saying they'd extend me an offer. I'm excitedly waiting for a call or email soon.

Only in New York

Ever had one of those moments that you think about after the fact and wonder if this stuff happens to other people? I just had one. I'm in New York (which is kick-ass, thank you for the good wishes, bloggy friends!) and I just got done having dinner with my dear pal, J. Well, J's producing a movie and there's a bit of a hubbub about a nudity waiver for an actor doing a masturbation scene (no joke) and all of a sudden we were walking through SoHo having a conversation that I could only ever have had with J at this particular moment in this particular place. It went a little like this, "Well, what is it that she doesn't want to show? Are we talking pubic hair or vag lips here?" "You see, I'm not sure. This is what I have to ask her about. I can't believe I have to be this specific, but the question of parts needs to be asked. Labia, no labia? Vaginal area - what does that specify?" "Hmm, she could be talking about bush, but no actual organ..." and it progressed from there.

Now, we weren't at home in the comfort of our living room, or even behind the closed door of an office somewhere - we were right out there walking down Broadway and we definitely weren't alone. The beauty of this situation is that no one batted an eye or so much as looked back to see who the hell was rather loudly discussing female genitalia. It gets funnier as I think about it. I love New York.

Change of subject - I have my interview tomorrow afternoon for a job I think I want with a company I think I want to work for in a part of town I know I dig. Send good vibes this way. I'll be the cute blonde in the fabulous navy suit and gold heels down in the Financial District. Let's hope they love me. P'shaw, let's hope I love them.

Pack, Pack, Snore

It's late. I'm over-tired. I have to go put all the little stuff I'm forgetting about into my suitcase (did I pack deodorant? a razor? socks???). I'm going to try and post while I'm gone, but if I don't pop up right here on this spot every day don't think I've abandoned you. No, not even you, Kristie. I'll just be running around the streets of New York somewhere having a grand old time.

A friend came over tonight and I did a shirt for her. She's running a race this weekend and I did a tank top for her with a winged foot wrapping around her right side. It's pretty cool. She's having her husband take some pics of her, so I'll post one when she emails me. It's one of those things much better seen in action than on a dress form, so pardon the delay of photographic proof.

I've got to get to bed. I'm barely awake and I have to get up in 5 hours to go to make my flight. Good night, blogosphere.

Ready to Jet

I have lots to blog about, but I'm in a bit of a tornado of work here at the office today. I'll be in NYC tomorrow through Monday, so I've got lots to finish up before I leave. Hopefully I'll get to jump on and post again this afternoon or this evening. For the moment, let me give you a little taste of what this morning has been like:

• The bus people have made good on their claim - there was, indeed, a supervisor monitoring the route today. A Miami-Dade Transit vehicle was parked at the stop this morning and there was a guy taking notes from inside. Hmm. Also, the bus driver must have asked the passengers 3x if anyone needed a bus schedule. It was nice. Usually the slots that hold the brochures are empty. Way to be pro-active, dude. I hope he drives again tomorrow.



• The Dianne Rheam show on NPR has a debate going on right now about abortion legislation. Needless to say, the anti-choice woman is pissing me off. I wish people could debate this issue w/o resorting to stupid tactics like name-calling and condescention. If you act holier-than-thou people are far less apt to take your point to heart. Seriously, lady, don't say that life begins at conception and then say that it's an undisputed fact. It is a disputed topic. Warning: do not enter a battle of wits unarmed. And by the way - the morning after pill is not an abortion. I'm not going to say it's an undisputed fact, because there are people who disagree, but in my opinion (and those of most folks I know) the MAP is not an abortion.



• Work has been interesting... and it's only 10:45. See below.

I just got major attitude from this woman who does more real estate work than the work she's paid to do when she's here (I'm surprised she hasn't gotten fired, that's how bad she is). You see, here in FL just about every 3rd person is a real estate agent in addition to whatever else they do for work. This woman doesn't have a CD drive on her machine (how can you not have a CD drive in 2006?), so every once in awhile I load a disk of pics onto my machine and email them to her as a favor (which I shouldn't do, because she's a stupid whore). They're always various house pics for some client of hers. She thinks I'm too dumb to notice that it's not office work. Uh, OK, lady. Last time the files were too large to be sent via our email server at work, so I emailed them to her personal account via my personal account.

She came over this morning and asked me to do it again with another disk, but to send it to a 3rd party (read: real estate client). I said I would do it, but if the files were too large like last time that I'd email them to her personal account. She goes, "No, to this person." and pointed to the email address of the 3rd party. I told her I didn't feel comfortable sending the files to a 3rd party with my personal email account and she got all huffy with me. The whole time, I kept thinking *this time tomorrow you'll be in Brooklyn, this time tomorrow you'll be in Brooklyn, ohm....* Now I'm trying not to tell her to fuck off.

This Pitt isn't with Angelina

I realize this is my 3rd post of the day, so you better believe it's something worthy. This is not for the faint of heart, dear friends. I am so shocked an appalled when I hear of dog fights in the news. I wish it was a rarity. Unfortunately, I live in Miami. Miami is not the place to be if you're a dog, statistically speaking. Duke is lucky - he has a loving home and people who adore him and treat him well. Miami has one of the highest stray animal populations in the country (we see strays in our neighborhood every day, sometimes pregnant and sick - it breaks my heart). In addition, Miami has a large immigrant human population and many of those people come from what we consider "third world" countries. Entertainment in those parts of the world often includes animal fights. Cock fights, dog fights, the works. Here in the U.S. dog fights usually involve pitt bulls.

Anytime you take an animal and force it, train it, torture it into fighting you demonize that breed. Pitt bulls have born the brunt of this kind of demonization. They have gotten a terrible reputation in the public eye due to the aggression shown by a relatively small number of their kind - the ones trained to fight and kill other dogs. Pitts aren't vicious by nature. In fact, dog bites are more often from a German shepard or a labrador retriever than any of the breeds who are thought of as "aggressive", "attack" or "guard" dogs - rottweilers, pitt bulls, mastiffs, dobermans, etc.

This is a video that shows what happens when a dog is brutalized and, conversely, what happens when a dog is treated humanely. I think Duke has a little pitt bull in him (being a stray before his rescue no one knows what's mixed with the mastiff) and he's the most loving dog I've ever known. I've known pitts all my life and not one has been mean. Luckily for those dogs, their owners aren't mean, vicious people. If you can stomach it, watch this video. The next time you hear about a dog fight, or a ban on pitt bulls (like here in Miami) think about what you see here and don't jump to conclusions about the dogs involved. And please, if you get a puppy, don't dock that poor pooch's ears! It's awful.

For those of you who haven't seen him - this is Duke. My big, droopy baby dog. One of the "vicious" mixed breeds.

Is it just me...

... or does the CEO of Abercrombie & Fitch give you the creeps, too? Don't get me wrong - from a business perspective I admire his penache. He's taken a slumped (that's putting it mildly) company that really hadn't done well since the Roosevelt era and turned it into something popular and profitable (worth $5 billion today and growing). It's the methods he's used that give me the heebie-jeebies.

An article about Mike Jeffries, A&F CEO, on Salon.com has me sufficiently weirded out that I'm not too eager to run off to the local mall and pick up A&F's latest. Not that I've been too eager at any point to do that. But after reading this article I'm decidedly steering clear of the stores, as opposed to my normal routine of steering clear simply because I'm not too keen on the product.

He has turned A&F into a young, sexy brand. He's opened 3 additional divisions. He's built a $131 million company headquarters... and stocked it full of young, attractive kid employees. Business-wise the man is some sort of genius. He's cultivated a cult-like corporate culture very much like Apple - and that's worked like a charm. But he's 61 years old and he dyes his hair blonde. He wears flip-flops every day. Not just flip-flops, he pairs them with the perfect pair of A&F ripped and faded jeans. He's worked his biceps up to action figure proportions. He says "dude" more than your average CA surfer. He's had more work done on his face than half of Boca - and that's saying something. I understand the desire to retain your youth, but this guy's penchant for defying convention makes me wonder about him.

I'm not a prude - not even close - and I certainly think that it's difficult to truly exploit a grown woman unless she wants you to... but a 13 year old wearing a shirt that says "Who Needs Brains When You Have These" makes me sad. Makes me sad that the shirt bearing that slogan was marketed to her (which it was - just ask Mike Jeffries) and sad that her parents let her out of the house wearing it. Hell, they probably even bought it for her.

I'm bothered by Jeffries' willingness to admit that ugly, unpopular kids shouldn't wear A&F clothes because that's not the kind of customer he wants. It's one thing for that to be the inter-company dialogue, but to broadcast it as your business philosophy smacks of arrogance and ick-factor. Ick.

Maybe it's because I'm a woman who was raised by a mother who really never let me feel like it was OK to demean myself. Maybe it's because, even with my sarcastic sense of humor, I think that pandering to the stereotypical over-testosteroned caricatures of teenagers is a bad idea. Maybe it's because I make clothes, and I want women of all sizes to wear them and enjoy them and feel good in them. Maybe it's because I felt like one of the dorky, unpopular kids in high school and I know I wouldn't have fit in to A&F's target demographic. Maybe it's because I used to be a good deal chubbier and I know what it feels like to avoid a store that you know doesn't carry your size. But Abercrombie & Fitch has taken sleaze to a new level. Sell funny shirts, market sex because it really does sell, promote an all-American brand image. But leave the sleaze out of it and for goodness' sake - put a brown-ish face or two in that damn catalog.

The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round...

When I got home from work last night there was a message on the voice mail from Miami-Dade Transit. They were responding to a call I made a month ago (after the driver drove up onto the curb and popped the tire... yep, that day) lodging a complaint for various problems with the bus route I take every day. I let them know that sometimes the bus just doesn't come. Sometimes it takes 2 hours to get a bus, even on days when traffic is light. Sometimes the drivers are bigoted asshats. Sometimes the drivers ignore the "stop requested" button (happened again this morning and boy, oh boy, was the guy who had to walk back 5 blocks pissed off). Sometimes drivers don't go into an office park like they should simply because they don't feel like it - usually there are 2 or 3 stops back in those parks, so you know there are a lot of irritated mass transit riders when that happens. Basically, there are all sorts of issues with this particular route and I let them know that there were quite a few passengers looking into other forms of transportation because we were sick of dealing with the problems week after week. We really don't have any other option, but at least the possibility got put out there.

The woman who left the message very pleasantly let me know that a supervisor would be making spot checks on the route and hopefully any issues with drivers will be cleared up. I hope so, too. It would have been nice if they had responded sooner. A month is a little long for my taste, but at least I got a response at all.

I think things might be shifting slightly to a more tolerant slant in my neighborhood. Good things have been happening. The bus people called me back. Last week I said hello to 2 people on my way home and both of them said hello back. Little things give me hope that maybe things are getting better. Getting better just in time for the man and me to leave. Then again, last night on the way home a guy rode past me on a bike (white guy, looked pretty haggard) and said to me with a thick New York accent, "Hey, honey, you lawst?" "Thanks, no, I live here." "Oh, uh, well... OK then, have a good one." Funny thing is - I was only a block away from my house. I guess I still look out of place.

So glad it's not raining shit

When it rains it pours, and it was a torrential downpouring of shit for a bit there. Now it's like sunshine and roses, so things in Melissaland are much brighter lately. First, there's the obvious good-news-item that my boys are going to Detroit. My Steelers are going to the Superbowl and I think they're walking away with the title this time.

The man is having a good time working for the agency he's with now and I feel really good about the fact that he's feeling good about it. He's getting great feedback and getting to actually do work that he enjoys. He signed the paperwork to sell the house Saturday morning. Closing will be the end of February. As if that's not good enough news in and of itself, I checked my email just before leaving to head to the real estate office that morning and found a lovely little message from a company I had sent my resume to earlier in the week.

They want me to come in for an interview this week, so I'm off to NYC on Thursday morning. Not only do they want to interview me, they want to bring me in for a position higher and better than the one I applied for. Said they were impressed with my range of experience and skills and all that nice stuff. I'm interested in the position and they're interested in me - let's hope this works out.

In addition, I went to a shop I buy t-shirts from last night because I had done a shirt for Kristie and when I had finished sewing everything onto it I noticed a gap in one of the shoulder seams. I had already worked on the shirt, so I couldn't exchange it for another one. I just sewed up the gap and it's fine, but I thought it would be nice if I could get a discount off the next shirt I buy since had I brought the plain shirt back to the store, surely they'd have replaced it. I showed it to the girl at the counter, who proceeded to flip out about the design I had done and called another girl over to see it. They both loved it and called a 3rd girl over, who then flipped out in her own right and called a guy over. They all really liked the shirt so I gave them my cards and told them that I'd be happy to do some things for them. They have to wear the shop's clothes when they're working, but they're allowed to personalize them. I'm going to follow up with them next week and hopefully sell some things. Wouldn't that be nice?

A sold house, a (possible) new job, some designs in the hands of paying customers... it's a good day in Miami.

Ring, Ring. It's for YOU!

Yeah, ain't it cool? Your phone rings. Yep. Your cell phone has a little device on it that lets you know that someone is calling. Nifty. Now how about you turn that bad boy on vibrate so that the rest of us don't have to hear the Nokia jingle or Fifty Cent's latest every time one of your boys calls you. While you're at it, why don't you pick your ringtone anytime other than when you're on the bus. When you scroll through all the ringtones on your phone one after the other, playing each one at maximum volume to get the full effect, on a bus full of groggy morning commuters it makes us all want to bum rush you and beat you silly. Trust me, I can speak for the other passengers on this one.

This week is brimming with good news:

• The man meets with our agent to sign the contract on the house tomorrow morning. We could be closed by the end of Feb.


• My job won't be cut as soon as earlier reported, so I have employment until I leave, which is a good thing.


• Taco Bell is bringing back the Crunch Wrap Supreme. It's my favorite fast food item of all time.


• This morning marks 5 days in a row of working out. That means I can have a crunch wrap supreme without feeling immense amounts of guilt this weekend.

Happy Friday, folks!

6 Weeks, What? WOW

The offer on the house will be final as of Saturday morning when everything is signed. Closing will be at the end of Feb. That means 6 weeks from now we're moving. My favorite thing - gee, can't wait. When it comes to moving, I'm with Kristie. She hates it, I hate it, it's just generally not a fun thing to do. Yes, the clearing out of all clutter is a good thing, the thinning of your belongings is a good thing, but the packing and the actual moving is so awful.

Tricky part about this move is that the man has to be in SoFl until June. So he's going to find a short-term apt. and I have to figure out if I'm going to NYC or staying here. If I stay here with him I won't have a job (thanks to the corporate downsizing in yesterday's post), and will have to get some sort of menial job because I'd only need it until June. It makes sense to go to NYC so I can find a job, a real one, and at least one of us will have good employment in our actual field when he comes up in June. So I think that will be the plan. Now I need to figure out when my employment is going to finish up so I can make arrangements to get up to Brooklyn. I'm so excited about going back, but sad about being away from the man for a few months. Hell, we did the distance thing before, I just don't like it. Not that I can't handle it, I just don't want to be there w/o him and Duke.

But this is bright side time - the house is going to sell, the ratified contract will be in the man's hands on Saturday morning, and we're getting back to NYC. This is awesome!

And The Hits Just Keep on Coming!

As I said to the man earlier, "Whoever said it's location, location, location had never heard of timing, timing, timing." As if the powers that be somehow knew we got an offer on the house this morning - here at work it was just overheard through the
"walls" of Texas Lady's "office" that the entire department would be cut in 8 weeks. They're outsourcing what we do. No announcement has been made to us yet, but we've been expecting this for awhile now so at least no one's in shock. I'm just a contractor, so my departure wouldn't have impacted them too terribly much - another warm body would be brought in to fill my spot and the wheel would keep turning. But now I can avoid the unpleasantries of having to leave of my own accord. Hmm, I wonder when they'll give me the axe.

Hey, by the way - American Idol rejects are deliciously fun to watch. Miss Fire & I both watched them make fools of themselves while seated comfortably on our respective couches in our respective parts of Florida (read: hell) while sipping gin & tonics. Coincidences make life interesting, don't they?

Glimmer of Hope

I'm trying not to get overly excited or happy about this - because that will surely mean my hopes will be dashed in the end, resulting in an embarrassing nervous breakdown of some degree. But... I hesitantly tell you, my dear blog friends, that there is an offer on the table for our house. Oh yes. It's not the best one, but it's not terribly unreasonable and it could possibly create a couple of additional offers from other interested parties. We'll have to wait and see. For now, at least, I'm feeling pretty good. This is progress. This is good news. This theoretically means that I could be back in NYC at the end of next month. The man would follow not too long after that. Dude. DUDE.

It's the 3rd week of the month

It makes no sense to me that my rent check for my apartment in Brooklyn hasn't been deposited yet. Rent is due the 1st. It usually takes the landlady about a week to deposit the checks. Sometimes she's faster, but there's usually a week's window. It's the 17th already! I'm sending her another check next week for February. Sheesh. Put my check in the bank, lady.

(As a huge fan of the stage show, I was very pleasantly surprised by the movie version of Rent, by the way. It was really well done. Figured I should let you know that since I used the logo.)

Sunny Side Up

I'm feeling rather blah today. Could be that I'm actually working at work (it's a rare thing), could be that I had a less than enjoyable conversation with the man last night, could be that Cuban Lady is making it harder and harder to occupy the cube next to her, could be that I got about an hour of sleep last night as a result of the afore-mentioned conversation and some kicking allergies. Whatever it is, I'm tired and borderline cranky.

On the bright side:

1) I sent my resume off for a position that sounds right up my alley this morning. The fact that I'm so interested in it will probably mean that I'll never hear from them, but it's nice to hope. I have industry experience and, damnit, I'm an asset.

2) I worked out last night and I'm going to do it again tonight. I've realized (with Kristie's help) that I have to exercise every day. I can't say I'm going to do it 3-4x a week because I'll put it off and put it off, and then the end of the week comes and I didn't work out. Yuck. It's all or nothing. Last night felt good, I'm hoping tonight does, too.

3) There are 2 people coming to look at the house today. Maybe our agent will have some good news soon. Open house on Sunday generated a good amount of traffic, but we've had good traffic the whole 4 months since the listing. Well, almost 4 months. 4 months! Yikes. Good news would be nice.

4) I love the blogosphere. I do. You can find anything in this whacked-out realm. If it's weird, people blog about it. If it's cool, people blog about it. Kinky, political, artistic, urban, rural, professional, humorous, serious... people blog about it. I think that rocks.

5) This picture is funny.

A man can't ride your back unless it's bent.

He said that. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "A man can't ride your back unless it's bent." Think about that for a minute. What he was saying is that anyone can take advantage of you and keep you down if you let them. Of course, there was much more nuance and meaning wrapped up in those 9 words when he spoke them, but that's the baseline, that's the heart of it. He was encouraging black people to become advocates for themselves and peacefully resist segregation and intolerance built up by white lawmakers (and, sadly, a good portion of the general population) who wanted to preserve the separation of blacks and whites at any cost.

Today, this Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I take those words to heart. Do they have the same meaning for me as they did for the people to whom he was speaking back in the mid-60s? No, for several reasons. Most basically, I'm white and it's 2006. I wasn't around when the Civil Rights struggle was in full swing and Dr. King was rousing hope and making waves. But his words mean something to me in my own life. Just because something was said in a time that you weren't part of, to a people you're not part of, doesn't mean that you can't see validity and glean your own moments of insight from them.

To me, those words mean that I cannot be defeated if I don't allow it to happen. If I don't invite failure in, I've got a good shot at succeeding. If I make myself into a doormat then chances are I'm going to get stepped on. 2006 is a time for making strides, a time for growth and a time for walking tall. My back is not bent.

Thank you, Dr. King, for the lessons. Perhaps if more people read your words and not just recognized your face we'd all learn something.

Craptastic

So, I had a brief moment of giddy excitement on Wednesday afternoon when the staffing person from a company I had sent my resume to that morning called me to set up an interview. I could not believe that not only had I been called about a resume I sent (that so rarely happens - especially off an internet job posting, it's something of an curiosity when it does) but this woman wanted to schedule me for an interview the very next week. Fantastic! The salary is lower (pretty substantially lower) than I'm looking for, but it would get me back to NYC full-time, the office is in a great part of the city and the benefits pkg. is really nice (health insurance, woohoo!). I told her that I could arrange to be in New York next week, I'd check into travel options and call her the next morning to set up a time. She agreed that was a good plan and said she was looking forward to my call the next day.

I went home, checked into flights, figured I could be in the city next Friday for the interview and only have to miss one day of work here in Miami (which means only missing one day of pay). I called her yesterday morning at 8:30 and left a message letting her know that I would be available all day on Friday, but if that didn't suit her needs to please let me know, as I would need to book a flight for Wednesday evening soon (since fares that fall less than 7 days ahead of time are exponentially more expensive as those you can book a week or more in advance... I was on the 7 day bubble). When I hadn't heard back from her by 10:30 I called again and left a follow-up message.

That was a day ago and I've heard nothing. At this point the price of the flights would be hard to justify for what amounts to an entry level job. What really burns my biscuits is that, as a staffing professional, this woman should have called me to let me know that I had been taken out of the applicant pool, or that the execs doing the interview weren't available next week after all, that she's very sorry but the office had been invaded by aliens or whatever the case may be. So far, no word. If I were in town and could swing by whenever it wouldn't be a big deal. But she knows there's travel involved. She knows my experience and expressed utter glee that I was interested in the position at all (that's a sign right there...). Oh well.

The man said everything happens for a reason, and I know he's right. But, this was going to be an interview wrapped up with a great trip to NYC, with a possible swing down to DC to see Kristie on the way home. So now I guess I send out more resumes, hope I get something better (with a salary that isn't so paltry), and look on the bright side. Sometimes I want to tell the bright side to kiss my ass.

* drawing courtesy of tooth paste for dinner

I know, I can't believe it, either!

I just came across a blog that was playing an audio clip of "Patience" by Guns 'N Roses. It gets better - the person wasn't trying to be funny. She wasn't expressing a farcical, ironic social wit. Patience was simply the musical theme of her entire blog. Does this strike anyone else as humorous? Kristie, I know you don't get it, but that's because you spent your formative years overseas and missed out on a buttload of American cultural background. Watch I Love The 80s & the first 2 years of the 90s on VH1 and you'll be all caught up. And no, I'm not making an allusion to your love of Bon Jovi. (although it does make me giggle)

Ted Kennedy is a drunken idiot

No, really. He is. I do apologize if that offends you, but he's a few fries shy of a Happy Meal and it's really beginning to show. OK, it's really continuing to show. I'm listening to the "gavel to gavel" coverage of Alito's Supreme Court confirmation hearings on NPR and that Irish-American Masshole is cracking me up. He keeps requesting the same thing over and over and finally the Chairman had to bitch-slap him into submission. "No, Senator, what you are in the position to do is heed my ruling since I am the Chairperson of this Committee!" Get 'im, Specter!

(I can't believe I'm actually siding with Specter on anything other than being a Pennsylvanian)

If you can possibly catch the clip of last night's Daily Show where Jon Stewart skewers Kennedy you should. It's fabulous television.

Censor this!

I've been thinking this morning about a post written by Sandra that deals with censorship. Well, censorship and idiots. The nutshell version is that she made a comment on another blogger's blog that someone shouldn't use the word "gay" interchangably with the word "stupid". Her example was taken from a comment another reader made on this other blogger's blog that "playing games at a baby shower was 'gay'". Gay? Sandra's point was that unless this person intended to say that playing games at a baby shower was homosexual perhaps they should examine their personal vernacular for a better-suited word. Makes total sense to me. She commented as such and the other blogger deleted her comment. She then discussed on her own blog post the deletion and ruminated on social responsibility. Which, by the way, is totally her right since it is, after all, her very own blog.

Several people commented (including this dear blogger) that we agreed with her about the offensive implied meaning of "gay", as it's clearly not a word that means stupid or dumb or ridiculous or anything having to do with something other than homosexuality. Then, someone posted anonymously that Sandra was wasting her time and should be concerned with more important matters - like the genocide in Darfur (I shit you not, this is what that person said) - rather than her "knee-jerk reaction" to the other blogger's censorship or the offensive language.

I have a problem with this. First of all, the commenter posted anonymously, but referred to having his/her own blog in the comment. So, it's OK to post a comment contrary to a blogger's views on a comments page, but only if it's not under your true identity? Hmm. Seems a bit cowardly to me. Second, isn't it a blogger's prerogative to blog about whatever the hell they please on their own blog? Ding ding ding! Yes, ladies and gents, it is! The other blogger can delete comments left and right to his/her heart's content! And Sandra can write about anything she likes. To tell her that her reaction is innapropriate and that she should concentrate on other things is absurd. And yet - has Sandra deleted that comment? Nope. What does that say? Isn't technology grand?

Sometimes I make myself giggle

As you know, if you've read this blog before, I really have a hard time putting up with idiot men who think they can say things (making noises, grunting, hissing, and barking all fall into this category) to women that are patently offensive and actually think they're going to garner a positive result. Since I have this inability to gladly suffer fools, the walk home from the train station is often plagued with an inner struggle to control myself and not do/say anything that may result in becoming the victim of a shooting/beating/mugging/crime of any sort. I keep my mouth shut, don't make eye contact when people are being foolish, walk with purpose and my head held high (so as not to appear an easy target), and remain silent until I walk into my front door and usually let out some sort of scream or sigh or groan that startles the dog. Then, of course, it becomes blog fodder.

Yesterday as I walked home I was talking to Kristie on my cell phone because she went home sick from work and I wanted to see how she was feeling (answer: she feels shitty, still does, poor boo). As I rounded the corner of the train station to get to the main road I noticed a man sitting on a bus stop bench about 20 yds. away. He didn't set off my threat-level sensors, so I kept walking and talking. As I passed him he hissed at me repeatedly and said with a very thick Cuban accent, "Hey, baybeeeee."

Now, that remark isn't enough to warrant paying him any attention. But, the hissing... the hissing takes it to a whole other level of loathing. I hate the hissing. What is it with the damn hissing??? I don't get it. I never will. It's so gross. And I was on the phone! Does he expect me to stop talking and respond to him? No, no he doesn't. He expects me to keep walking and ignore his sorry ass just like every other woman he hisses at. Surely that technique hasn't worked on some woman, right? I mean, it couldn't have worked. Right?

In the split second that followed the hissing I was wondering about this man and whether or not he's actually scored using that fine, smooth move. So I turned back to him and said, "Has that ever worked?" Blank stare. "No, really - has that ever worked for you?" Blank stare, stare turns to confusion, confusion turns to nearly fright. He eeks out, "What? Uh, I, I, I was talking to my phone." Um, dude, you didn't even have your phone anywhere near your head. So I guess the answer is no, that hasn't proven to be a particularly effective stragey on his part. Curiosity satisfied.

My mom said to me when she & my dad were leaving our house last week to head back to DC, "Please, Melissa, don't do anything to get yourself shot before you guys move." Sometimes I just can't help myself.

By the way...

My Steelers ROCK!!! Down with Cinci. Let's keep this momentum going, boys. Big Ben, Heinz, Troy, Jerome, Antoine, who loves ya? Me. I do, that's who.

Snore

I realize this makes me seem rather socially unconscious, but I'm annoyed that NPR is starting "gavel to gavel" coverage of the confirmation hearings of Samuel Alito at noon. Now, I know I should care about the future of my nation's Supreme Court, and I do - but I can't sit through another afternoon of these pompous blowhards spouting their political filth while trying to magnify Alito's views or villify them. He thinks what he thinks and you can't expect him to espouse his personal opinions on sensitive subjects when, if he's doing his job the right way, his personal opinions have no bearing on his rulings pertaining to the law of the land. Agree or disagree with him, a judge's job is to rule based upon law. Hopefully that's what he'd do. I'm not sure about that, but can anyone be? Not until he's got a case in front of him. I'm dissatisfied in a very bi-partisan way with government lately and hours upon end of policitos shouting at each other, being generally belligerant and personifying everything I hate about DC is not what I need this afternoon. I think I might be forced to go to the pop music station. It's the only other station I can get on this dinky radio.

Hey - happy Monday! It's a pretty good one down here in Miami. The man made my lunch today. How nice is that?

For the record...

It's 68 today. People are still wearing winter coats, scarves, mufflers of various sorts, hats that look like they're preparing for an arctic excursion and gloves. It's rather amusing. And ridiculous. The man and I had breakfast on the beach yesterday and there were restaurants that had heaters outside for their patios. Um, it's almost 70. But hey, who I am to judge. I'm just a Yankee who grew up in cold weather. Breakfast was lovely, the food was amazing (whole wheat granola pancakes with bananas and chocolate chips - yep, it was decadent but it had granola and whole wheat so I didn't feel quite so bad, plus there was the requisite fruit cup to asuage any residual chocolate chip guilt), our waiter was great and we sat outside and had a nice time.

This morning, rather than taking another trip to the beach, we did our new workout video in the living room. Sounds corny, but it'll kick your ass. Budokan with Cameron Shayne - it's a combo of yoga, karate and Qigong meditation. It rocks. I'm not big on videos, but this thing is fantastic. Tip: if you put a yoga mat on a sisal rug you'll end up sliding into the next room, so move that rug. We got our butts kicked and then I made eggs & toast. Not nearly as good as the banana chocolate chip orgy of yesterday, but it was pretty darn tasty nonetheless.

What's on my plate for today? Laundry, grocery, and an attempt to copy a pattern I saw online last night for this crazy wrap-dress from the 60s. It's so cool. Wish me luck, I might end up using 4 yds. of muslin to get this thing right. But hey, Project Runway ain't got nuthin' on me. *grin*

Shiver

This is an actual snowflake captured with some sort of specialized photo-microscopic camera. Isn't it beautiful? Nature makes the best stuff.

We're not expecting any snow down here in Miami, but we are in the middle of a cold snap that's making these thin-blooded Floridians shiver and shake and complain as loudly as possible about how "freezing" it is. It's all I've heard all day. It's 61 degrees. Brr? Um, no. Granted, it's expected to get down into the low 40s tonight, so it will be pretty brisk and it would be wise to throw an extra blanket on the bed, but we're not talking turn the heat on, layer yourself with as many sweaters as you own, that kind of thing. People are flipping out about the "cold". It's 61 freaking degrees, people! Come on. Grow some balls.

Blog Help?

If anyone can help me fix my sidebar problem I'd really appreciate it. I didn't change anything in the template and all of a sudden for the past couple weeks my sidebar has been way down at the bottom of the page rather than at the top like it should be. I don't have any clue what happened and I can't spot anything weird on my template html. Any thoughts? Something weirder - it doesn't show up in the wrong spot on the man's Mac. Hmm. I'm confused.

Leather Sammy Hagar and The Magical Mystery Tour of Florida's Swampiest Swamp

Here he is - quintessential Everglades airboat tour guide. Doesn't he bear a striking resemblance to Sammy Hagar (imagine Sammy made entirely of old leather)?



Leather Sammy Hagar works for this place - Coopertown Airboat. Coopertown has a population of 8. Yep - 8. The mayor and his wife run the airboat tours. Apparently a town with a whopping population of 8 needs some leadership and this civic minded man stepped up to the plate. Remember that show Gentle Ben from back in the day with Clint Howard (yes, that Clint Howard) as the little boy who lived in the Everglades with that dude who drove the airboat and they had a bear or something? Well, that show was filmed where Coopertown Airboat is now. Thrilling, eh? EH? (say it like a Canadian or else it loses all effect)

This is me. I'm making a stupid face. I do this often. In this particular instance I'm in the Everglades. Standing right in the soup. Notice that my pants are rolled up and I'm just outside the boat. Obviously the water isn't very deep because, well, I'm not a very tall person and I'm standing in it with my pants rolled up. Anyway - my point is that Leather Sammy Hagar told me that it was safe to get out and walk around in the water since it was shallow and the gators prefer deeper waters to stalk their prey. Tossing caution to the wind I hopped right in. Once I was in the water a fellow passenger had the genius idea to ask what types of poisonous snakes live in the shallow parts. Nice.




After I got back in and we proceeded with the tour we saw a handful of these. I now look back and seriously question my judgment.




This concludes our tour, ladies and gentlemen. I'd like to take this opportunity to let you all know that the tour guide's salary is completley dependent upon the tips of the passengers, so I hope you enjoyed your tour here today and hope you enjoyed it enough to come back again sometime. (that is almost word for word straight from the mouth of Leather Sammy Hagar)

My best friend is a hoot!

Kristie wrote this today and it made me laugh so hard that I disturbed people in the office. (it was awesome, too bad Cuban Lady isn't here to hear it - she's on vacation... again) Kristie's so right. Why do people do this stuff? I've said for years that the only initials or name I ever want to wear are my own. I'm not going to pay my hard earned money to wear someone else's name. No way. Pay me to advertise for you and perhaps I'll consider wearing that Gucci label, but it just smacks of pretention and insecurity to me. If I'm not going to wear a high-end label, you can bet your sweet patootie that I'm not going to leave that tag on my purse, you know the one - it's leather, it's attached with keychain links and its only true purpose is a tag that's supposed to be removed! Take those tags off your purses, ladies. Please. And while we're at it, don't ever... and I mean EVER... put your belt through the label on the back of your jeans. That is not a beltloop. I don't care if it says Levis or Old Navy or Prada - it's a label, it's not a beltloop. Thank you, I needed to get that out. Now, please obey.







BELTLOOP, put belt through this










NOT A BELTLOOP, don't put belt through this

I almost forgot to tell you of our master plan!

More to come on this, but let me give you a teaser. Kristie and I are going to start a quasi-religious cult that uses polygamy to control our members and promote our cracked out views of the world and society at large. Very similar to the nutball so-called Mormon polygamist sects out West, except in our quest to turn the world topsy turvey we're going to let the chicks have multiple hubbies. They'll have to do all the housework and we'll biologically engineer a way for them to bear all the kids, too. Plus, they'll be at our sexual beck and call, so get those poles ready, boys. Oh wait, Kristie, do we really want more than one man? I mean, more than one that we're bound to by the covenant of marriage and stuff? Maybe we should rethink this. Sounds like a crackpot plan upon further examination.

Whirlwind

So far 2006 has been a very busy year. I didn't get eaten by gators out on the airboat, thank goodness. And I must say that the boat tour was much cooler than I expected. It was very interesting and really a lot of fun. Our tour guide looked like an all-leather version of Sammy Haggar and he knows everything there is to know about the Everglades, so he was the prefect tour guide. Even in spite of the fact that the battery on the boat died out in the middle of nowhere and we had to have a new one brought out to us. It gave us a few minutes to ask questions and even roll up our pant legs and hop out of the boat - it was only 2' deep where we were at the time and gators prefer deeper water, so I wasn't in mortal danger or anything. I'll post pics soon of me in the Everglades. Not too many people get to say they were actually in the Everglades, so that was a cool experience.

Last night we went to the Hard Rock casino (gotta love those Indian reservations) and ate at Hooters - gee, ya think my brother had anything to do with that? He's such a frat boy sometimes.

I started a new workout plan, got a DVD I love that really gives me a great all-over beating. New year, new plan to banish the wibbly wobblies.

So much more to tell, but I've got to get some work done first. Right now I'm very sad about the miners in West Virginia who were trapped when their shaft exploded and only one survived. Trapped down there for 3 days, not much oxygen, lots of poisonous gases, little chance of survival. But one 27 year old guy made it out. Unfortunately the families of these men were told mistakenly that they had all survived. Bells rang throughout the town for a few hours and people celebrated and breathed again after holding everything in and fearing the worst for days... but then the announcement came that there was a mistake in the communication and only 1 of the 13 men had been rescued. It's so sad I can't even imagine what they're going through. I've had people in my family associated with mines for generations so this story really tugs at my heart strings. I'm thinking a lot about them today.

On a totally frivolous note (and one that diametrically clashes with the new wibbly wobbly banishment plan): K Lance sent me his totally trendy hoodie with the busted zip so I can begin Operation Sweatshirt and fix it, and along with it sent me my favorite candy item of all time - Sarris chocolate covered pretzels. A whole bag of 'em. They're frickin' delish. Ate 3 last night. Really want some right now. Really. They're the best junk food ever created.

2006... really? Uh, OK. Let's get on with it then.

Snappy New Year!!! As Shira eloquently texted me early this morning: what happened in 2005 stays in 2005, muthafuckas! Indeed, Shirster, indeed. Miami is still kicking, the man is still adorable, Duke is still big & saggy, Kristie's still married to a Canadian, and it's a whole new year. We've shown the house to 2 people in the last 2 days and I think a sold house would make for a bang-up start to the year, no?

My family is in town for a visit, so this post is a short one. Have to get to bed to be up early to go with them on an airboat tour of the Everglades. Yep, critter-filled swampy Floridian hell. If you don't see a post from me by Wednesday send a search party. I could very well have become gator bait.