Caterwauling

My mom’s friend’s son Michael is 14 now, and he attends the same schools I went to as a young lass. Surprisingly, he was talking to my eighth grade English teacher about me. Not sure what brought that on, but she swore she remembers me, and apparenly she went on and on about how creative and motivated I was, and of course what a brilliant writer I was destined to be 😉 — she said I was one of her best students, and she always wondered how I turned out. Apparently Michael was bragging about where I live and what I do for a living, and she said that, knowing me, I wouldn’t settle for anything less that what I wanted to do. Heh. That’s kind of interesting, as I haven’t seen her in close to 15 years, but it felt kind of good to be remembered so fondly. 🙂

I also received an amazing letter to the editor today, extolling my leadership and personality. Sent straight to the executive office, too, from one of my column editors. Wow! I didn’t expect that, but that made it even better. The man had absolutely no reason to do it either — he was just generally pleased at the rapport and professional courtesy that we have developed during the last couple of months. Honestly, I’m just doing my job — it’s not like I’ve ever gone out of my way to accommodate him or anyone else, for that matter. But it’s way cool that, not only do they respect the position, but they have come to respect me. I really must rock, ’cause people say so! lol

So I just spent $200 on two tickets to see Bon Jovi at the Nissan Pavilion on July 27. At this point, I’m taking Maddie, unless a better date comes along. 😉

Reality TV has been amusing, of late. Mom got me hooked on “Married by America,” which ended dismally, as expected. Billie Jeanne and Kevin tanked, which I figured because he wasn’t as in love as she; Jill and Kevin had the better chance of the two, but when Jill said her vows, she ended up saying “I don’t” because Kevin is cute and all, but he lacks a job and ambition and what not. Good for her. Good for all of them.

It’s just kind of a sad commentary on relationships — but one I can’t argue with — in the Billie Jeanne situation, when Kevin pointed out that she has enough love in her heart for both of them, but he just can’t guarantee that he’ll ever love her back as much as she loves him. *sigh* And she was willing to let him go on loving her halfheartedly, in hopes that someday, he’d come around.

But moving on to my uber-fave, American Idol, I was pleased to see both Kimberly and Carmen in the bottom three, but as much as Kim annoyed the shit out of me, she didn’t deserve to go. Not this week, anyway. Carmen’s voice was cracking and fading throughout her song. The girl trills beautifully, but the song didn’t call for that — it called for her to hit a fucking note and hold it. And what was up with her garbage-bag-green dress? It looked like something you rake leaves into. Gaah! At least that Kim has some great style. I know Kim will make it, no matter what, based on her appeal to drooling fanboys everywhere, but it is good to be rid of her. At any rate, American Idol can go on hiatus for a week, ’cause we all know Carmen’s next. And praise the lord that America got rid of that nitwit Ricky Smith (aka “Herk-a-leeezzz” boy) last week!

I was chatting with a gal from Two Strikes last night when one of my other cohorts there, Programme Directeur, jumped onto the phone to say hello. Think what I may have about some of his actions and thought process, though, I’ve never doubted that he comes at you from his heart, regardless of where his head might be situated. 🙂 At any rate, he said that he used to read my publication when he was in college — his professors subscribed to it — and he said, “You’re the editor of that! Wow!” He followed that up with a, “You really did what you wanted to do alll along, didn’t you?” He said it proudly.

I kind of smiled because, yeah, I completely backed into my current career path, but beyond all the tribulations I encounter, I suppose it feels kind of good that someone who knows who I am and knows what I do and want to do has indicated that I have done well for myself. I don’t think the folks at Two Strikes ever doubted my talent or ambition, but it’s nice that I didn’t fall on my ass after leaving what was really (on paper) a great job. What my last job really was, I suppose, was an opportunity of a lifetime, and I got out of it what it was worth. And I guess I can say the same of my current situation — it’s an opportunity I am glad to have, but I’m sure it will be even more wonderful when it’s over, too. 🙂 At any rate, Programme Directeur will surely tell Her Royal Pretentiousness how wonderfully (he thinks) I’m doing now, and that’s probably the best feeling of all, that they know I rock. 🙂

I can see how easy it is to get frustrated with my workplace. I really do like what I do, but this micro-management stuff is becoming altogether too reminiscent of Her Royal Pretentiousness at the last job, where I participated in 12 mandatory three-hour meetings (and one eight-hour experience of public humiliation) every month, in addition to a few other impromptu ones. While this place isn’t nearly so bad, I’m getting sick of getting summoned to Pussy Demure’s office to go over all the e-mails sent to me (from members, other staff) that she was copied on. All she wants to do is follow-up on things, and I understand her point of view, but as I am feeling rather combative today (and dreading my supervision meeting with her in a few minutes), she needs to understand that she chose me to handle the responsibility of the position I now have. So for god’s sake, let me do it, instead of calling me to explain how and when I’m handling it when I could, in fact, BE handling it!

Shan’s out today. I hate being here without her — she’s probably the only reason I’ve stayed this long.

One of my teeth cracked last night while I was on the phone with the folks at Two Strikes. A huge chunk of tooth rolled out of my mouth, and a stream of blood followed. Son of a bitch. Not sure where it came from, although I expect it was from the area of my recent wisdom tooth extraction, as one tooth cracked into a bunch of pieces during the procedure. Wonderful.

Well, as if I didn’t suspect it, I completely lose my logic wherever Brat is concerned. I e-mailed him to ask him to come down here to D.C. to accompany me to an event in July, and do you think I’ve heard from him in the past two days? Funny how, when I was on my way to Pittsburgh, he was on the ball and answering messages within 10 minutes. Now that I’m gone, I suppose he had his fun and now he’s done with me. I am too old for this shit. I really am. But the good news is that all I was looking for was a good-looking escort to a cruise I’m taking — and I have no shortage of good-looking men who would be happy to take his place if he doesn’t RSVP soon!

Update

Demure is more than a half hour late to meet with me — her previous supervision meeting has run over. Y’know, not that I wanted to have this fucking meeting, but now I am all antsy, trying not to get too involved in the story I’m writing so that I can jump when she calls. Damn it.