Archive for the ‘bitter’ Category

Just retire already…

It’s just a small room with two windows facing out to office cubicles. It has a door with lock on it. It’s nothing special and quite plain. But there is a desk or two and plenty of cabinet space. I look into this little room every day. Even when the door is shut and the occupant isn’t even there, I peek in, I dream, I ponder. It’s just an office. A tiny room with the ability to shut off from the rest of the world. With the ability to give me privacy. But it’s not mine. Nor will it ever be while this occupant refuses to give it up. Or retire.

He’s a fixture here. He didn’t aways have an office. And unlike me, he’s not in management. He’s an older gentleman and has worked here for a while until they gave him a new beat. The previous occupant of this room I speak of was his boss. And since everything had changed, this guy was never here but SOMEHOW got the little room I have been coveting by default or just plain Good Old Boy system. Technically it was supposed to go to me. I’m in management, like I said before. He has the office based on wacko principal. Why does he deserve it? He’s older than me I guess. And he’s worked here longer. But I guarantee you I work more in one damn day than he does in a week. I have direct reports that I often need to speak to privately so how do I do it? Well when the conference room is occupied, I go outside.

“Hey so and so! You’ve got a raise!” (insert sound of cars going by.)

It really sucks and yes I’m bitching about it because it’s tough to do my job in a cube next to my team. I have to respond in riddles when the boss calls.

For more than the most part, the current occupant of said office sits in there and reads the damn paper. Drinks his coffee and passes out the mail. Making sure to rub it in to me by throwing lots more mail (that doesn’t even belong to me) on my already crowded cube. He doesn’t need that office. He can do that shit on his own time…on his couch.

Why American Airlines sucks

I’m back and trying to get things on track to semi-normalcy. Thanks everyone who wished me well during my recovery. What I really wanted to do was come back and share all my photos from my recent trip to Vegas. I still plan to, but what is getting in the way is the fact that I can’t get pass how much American Airlines needs to be put on blast.

Let me start with how since I turned 30 in January, I’ve had frequent abdominal pain and a tad bit of nausea after eating. While in Vegas I pretty much ate anything I wanted and pretty much paid for it on the last day. After having a seemingly innocent omelet, I started to feel sick. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and went to the bathroom to vomit. Sorry for the mental image here, but I basically had to make myself throw up. From the gas station next to the airport, at the airport and finally on the plane, I was getting sick every five to ten minutes. While flying back to Texas, I must have rushed to the tiny and may I say NASTY American Airlines bathroom and proceeded to keep gagging myself for the nausea was just unbearable. Meanwhile my boyfriend was worried. And at some point I got pretty delirious.

Luckily (and as it turned out kind of unluckily) we were in the back of the plane and the access to the potty was quick plus the flight attendants, which were stationed there, became clearly aware I was quite ill. My boyfriend asked that we have a wheelchair waiting at landing and that the attendants make sure to make an announcement that I needed to be let off the plane first.

Continue reading

SNL, the Latino vote and media stupidity

No matter what you may believe, I truly am convinced that it took a silly but relevant comedy sketch on Saturday Night Live last week to really get America thinking about the media’s softness and one-sidedness when it comes to Barack Obama’s  NAFTA flub and so many others. As you already know, I was on the trail of mediocre support of Obama and yesterday proved that to the utmost. I walked into the polling station reluctantly with a knot in my stomach, almost in a sweat. Then they told me to pick a line — democratic or republican. I so desperately wanted to make my final decision in that little black box but I figured, as we all saw, that McCain didn’t need my help.

The lines were not crazy yet but were building by the minute when I left. I decided the caucus Texas Two-Step or convention (whatever) was going to be bananas (both sides are already screaming misconduct from disorganized polling stations) and I already had a stressful 20 minutes grappling with my final decision. What I also saw were Latinos. And anyone who underestimated the power of the Latino vote were kidding themselves if you are an Obama supporter. A few calls from the Obama camp to Spanish-speaking homes begging for support IN Spanish wasn’t good enough and in fact offended some Spanish-heritage people I work with. Clinton’s win over Texas isn’t a real huge surprise if you take into consideration all of these factors: that damn SNL sketch, the Latino vote (who she knew she would win over) and the media’s constant bias. My initial response was shock until I really thought about it.

In a bout of her own desperation, Hillary Clinton made a smart run of appearing on SNL the same night a sketch featured a phony debate hosted by parodies of the usual bias suspects (did someone say Tim Russert?) showing the usual soft approach journalists take (yes, I know I AM one) when it comes to grilling Obama. And then Hillary pandered to the young crowd by appearing on Jon Stewart. All while Barack played it cool and hung his hat on popularity even though scandal ensued. Oh and let us not forget THAT DAMN PHONE! Dammit for like two weeks STRAIGHT I couldn’t get that damn ringing out of my ears. And I think it must have had hypnotic powers over the democratic voters. “Who do I want to answer that phone?” Someone smart enough to hire someone to answer it before it hits like 7 rings!!!

Anyway, we will see what November brings of course (I’ll be glad for a quiet summer) but now I’m all screwed up inside again. This has been the most stressful time ever of my “voting power.” When I did this two other times in less than a decade it was so much easier when I knew who I DIDN’T want to vote for.

When will it be about the issues?

issues.jpg

Are the Clintons bigots? Is Obama a pot head? Why do we do this? No wonder I’m a fence-sitter. Who wouldn’t be in times like these where everything in the world is being criticized instead of what the presidential hopefuls’ issues really are and where they stand? I’m more confused than ever. At this point I don’t even want to vote but I would never do that. Voting is still important. I know everyone is collectively saying, “Duh” right about now but I think we all need to remember that no matter how stupid everyone is looking right now, we still need to mark our ballots. But wait. Not everyone is looking stupid. Seems the republications haven’t been guilty of quite the same muckary (is that even a word) at this point as the democrats are.I was raised by democrats. I’m confessing right now that I’ve voted democrat all my life when it came to presidents — for very obvious reasons. I’m 29. You do the math. But I have never said I would never vote republican.

The Obama/Hilary stuff is making me want to vote for Huckabee. Now that’s bad. But if you look at the original origins of democrats, they were the ones who weren’t very progressive. Can that be said of today’s party? While republicans opposed the expansion of slavery and promoted business — that last bit is something they still do today of course. Obviously both parties have changed but is the change all that significant or can the change be measured by the mile? I’m still on the fence. Just give me a can of paint for me to whitewash it.

One thing for sure that WAS vastly different in the past was the media. News from what seems like a million years ago was about news. Not the fact that today’s celebrities are wasting away to anorexia or stopping to pump their own gas and grab a latte. I’m just sick. What CAN we believe?

I’m a part of the media, but I blame us just the same. Today’smedia that is. The media machine only cares about why Anna Nicole’s daughter is wearing an eye-patch. It’s breaking news when the Spears get knocked up and go crazy. Why wouldn’t that lack of real moral fiber bleed over into politics? It all makes me kind of happy in a way that I’m in the community news genre. But obviously the reason media goes after the superficial is because they think that’s what we want to hear. And that must be true because it’s only getting worse. We as a nation are watered down. Dumbed down. Oblivious.

Day 63: The power of a note on the door…

Be gone all you thiefs!I woke up to discover this morning that my tiny Christmas tree equipped with tiny, shiny, glittery little ornaments was swiped from my front porch. I know that it may not have been the best thing — to actually leave something I gave a rip about on the front porch. But combined with the gold bells on my door, the bow I made latched on to the door knocker — everything felt so nice when I came home. Because from inside and out my house was so very pleasantly festive with Christmas cheer. Well, my Christmas cheer faded with my little discovery.

I became enraged. I left a polite note on my neighbor’s door about it after looking around the complex (and glancing the trash) to see if I would find it somewhere. I sat in my house, numb with anger of course. I’ve been robbed several times in my life. Mostly related to my car. This was it. So I kept checking the peep hole every now and then just to see if I saw someone to ask questions. Then I noticed this one young looking guy coming down from upstairs who looked quite guilty when he stopped at my neighbor’s door to read my note which read:

“If you happen to know who stole my tree, please let me know. It wasn’t very nice. Signed (my apartment number).”

Then after he read it, he looked down directly where my Christmas tree WOULD have been. When I saw his face I decided to draft another letter and this time put it on MY door. This one read:

“Merry Christmas Asshole. Whoever stole my fucking Christmas tree doesn’t know who they are fucking with. You will get yours — one way or another. Signed (my apartment number).”

I fumed. Ran errands and came home. Then I heard some really loud walking and looked out the peephole. I saw my “friendly” upstairs neighbor going downstairs. I decided to wait for her to head back up. She would have to pass my door to get to her apartment. I waited because the connection was made. She was surely friends with the guy from earlier in the afternoon. Before I could completely ask her if she had heard anything funny last night she confessed that her friend stole my tree. She said he was “intoxicated” and that she was sorry and was bringing back the tree. Guess what she said next?

“I didn’t appreciate that note. It wasn’t very Christmas-like…”

THE BALLS ON THIS CHICK! I told her I didn’t give a damn, she stole from me and that I’ve been through a lot in my life. And that I didn’t appreciate HER stealing from me. She proceeded to say it wasn’t her. It was her friend. Same damn thing. Long story longer, she brought it back and said that she didn’t want it to affect things with her and I. Hilarious. My punctuation mark was letting her know I’ve been victimized in my life and that stealing from me was wrong. She felt like shit. Her face was if she may have concluded I was once upon a time kidnapped and left for dead.

What does this have to do with the countdown? Nothing. An hour walking in a parade carrying a giant Curious George yesterday and ending my day getting back stolen property counts as a workout for me.

FIN.

TXU: Today’s mafia

I’m sitting here wanting to burn down the very facility that warms my home. Granted — I’m an idiot. I should have watched how my usage was going to be before signing up for some bogus plan that only saves me money when I go over 1,000 kilowatts. I hung up on the bitch who told me I had to pay $200 to get out of this plan because it was a 2-year contract commitment.

I guess because I’ve always used TXU I figured it was worth it. Instead I’m sitting here with the gestapo telling me I have no choice. Oh, wait. Yea I have a choice. The choice to keep getting screwed up the rear-end. I’ve had Green Mountain Energy before and I will never do that again. They bent me over more than TXU is right now. It’s all so corrupt. These are the things of what going postal was invented.

So I’m sitting here and the woman tells me that she could help me. Guess how? By changing my price plan and then in return I have to pay the $200 to get out of my current plan. I’m such a dummy for falling for this plan in the first place. I’m in a 535 square foot apartment! When will I ever be over 1,000 kilowatts? Maybe the summer. We shall see. As it stands with the first touch of cool weather my bill is $109 this month. With all my not running the heat all day, limiting my lights and burning fires, I should have decently low usage. I know someone who has a much bigger apartment whose bill is only a little more than mine. Did I mention I’m in a matchbox by the lake?! I asked for an audit but apparently because the world rotates in cyberspace, I have to do that online. How in the hell can you audit a home online without a real, live, red-blooded worker checking your installation and other energy crap right there in real time?

It’s almost worth it because I’m already getting screwed, to just take up being a high-class prostitute for disposable income and obtain the $200 bucks to get out of the mob. Yep. That’s a good plan.

Get me out of here…

Back in the saddle again. The Thanksgiving holiday is gone and I’m back at work.

I’m actually sitting here contemplating what could possibly be listed on journalismjobs.com right now. I’m not really feeling all the poignant at the moment to write anything super stellar. I’ll wait till I get home. But right now I’m sitting back in my little cubicle world, editing, stressing over whether or not one of my employees got her raise or not and if I turned in the paperwork correctly, worrying about the fact that I’ve never seen New York and wondering why it’s 50 degrees in here when it’s about the same temperature outside — I want to get the hell out of here.