IttyBittyCrazy

THIS BLOG HAS MOVED

2009-06-13T21:31:00.000-07:00

To go to the new Ittybittycrazy blog, click here.

To go to the new Puppy Dog blog, click here.

All the old stuff has been transported over there, too.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 37.2

2009-06-11T15:19:00.000-07:00

I don't always realize when I am stressed, and so I don't ask for help. To be fair, I don't give myself very clear signs that I am stressed, so I guess it isn't a big surprise that I just go off on my own and just try to handle things.

My stress indicators only occur to me when it's too late.

The first is being irritable and intolerant.

You only realize that it might have been a little unreasonable to shout at the guy in the SUV and accelerated to stop him from cutting in front of you, almost causing an accident, after you've driven for at least the next three blocks and simmered down.

The second is losing memory.

You only realize that you should have (a) printed out the appointment and the doctor's name and address, or (b) made sure you synched your phone with your Outlook on the PC, when you are standing in front of the Information Desk at the huge tower of medical offices, unsure where to go and you hear yourself say:

"Um, I don't know what the right word is for it. He's an ass doctor."

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 37.1

2009-06-11T13:30:00.000-07:00

The other day I had to stop off at the store for a few groceries and, like I always do, I drove out via the alleyway.

The store is on our main road in this part of town - we aren't downtown, so this wasn't an alley between tall buildings and, one street back from the store, there are houses.

I came out from behind the store onto the street, ready to turn right, when I looked straight ahead. The alleyways between the houses seemed to stretch out infinitely in front of me. I had to go seven blocks over, then two blocks to the right to get home.

"What the hell," I thought. "Forget the main road. I'm taking the alleyways."

And so, very slowly, I edged across the street and into the first alley.

Driving along the alleys gave me a completely different perspective on roads I drive every day. I noticed houses I'd never really looked at properly before, and saw them from the back - a very different view.

And the alleys themselves were like a little world of their own. There was:

the artist sitting at an easel, painting, in her garage, her works hung all over the walls
the garage painted bright yellow, with brown edging (different)
the obviously well used basketball hoop
the tree, so tall and so old that the roots had completely lifted the road like a mini-earthquake
the guy doing DIY in his garage wearing funky eye protecting goggles
the elderly lady bending over her flower beds, wearing gardening gloves and trowel in hand
the messy trash cans, the neat and clean trash cans, the house that creates so much trash they had a mini-dumpster our back.

I felt, for the five minutes I drove home that way, like I had peeked through my neighbor's curtains and discovered a little bit more about them.

It was fascinating.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 37.0

2009-06-11T13:04:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my therapist, She's So Lovely, asked me an interesting question.

I was describing a potential contract job I've been put forward for and another interesting role I've applied for in a completely different industry.

"Could you," she asked, "work a four day week?"

I blinked. "Well," I said, "in a way, I have been. I used to work most Fridays from home."

"Not the same thing," she said. "You were still working, right?"

"Sure," I said, thinking back to the fact that Fridays could often be the most productive day of my week.

She went on to tell me that depression, anxiety, stress - all these things are often caused by a sense that we don't have control over our own lives.

If you have just that one day a week that is yours - to do something creative, to see friends, to go to a dance class - it can make a big difference in your ability to deal with characteristics of corporate jobs like pressure, ambiguity, politics, empire-building, resistance to change, the blame game and lack of work/life balance.

It's a very tempting thought, but I wonder if any employer would go for it?

Flavors of America

2009-06-10T21:28:00.000-07:00

The sign says it all

Divided by a Common Language: Privacy for PeePoops

2009-06-10T19:19:00.000-07:00

Why are the doors on public toilets in the USA slightly too small for the stalls, so that there is a half inch gap on both sides?

If you walk into a public restroom and look at the stalls at the right angle, you can see who is in there and what they are doing.

Which means, when you are on the other side of the stall door, people can see you.

Not only that, but restroom doors here don't tend to have those little indicators attached to the latches which say "Vacant" or "Occupied" so you have no choice but to peer through the gap to see if someone is in the stall.

Why?

I want to pee and poop in peace and in privacy!

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 35.2

2009-06-09T12:51:00.000-07:00

I just went to the coffee shop wearing this T-shirt (available on Threadless here).

The young guy who took my order started to try and figure out the design. Then there was a delicious moment when he realized that, to do so, he was staring at my ample bosom (work what God gave you, I say), immediately followed by one of those teenage boy "Oh God, oh God, don't make it obvious. Just look up at her face. Look up at her face!" moments. This all flashed by in miliseconds, but it was highly amusing to witness.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 35.1

2009-06-09T11:49:00.000-07:00

You know it's time to get the cleaner back when:

You take real pleasure in assembling a Swiffer Duster
You find Charlotte's Web being re-enacted in your living room
You glance down at the wash basin while brushing your teeth and are greeted by a pubic hair
You have to wear shoes in the house or else little crunchy bits cling to the soles of your feet as you cross the kitchen
You turn the oven on and it lets out soft billows of black smoke
You open the fridge to a strangely high pitch greeting from a newly grown alien species
You turn around to see your dirty clothes walking themselves to the washing machine
You notice your dog's hay fever sneezing only kicks in when he is inside
You call your dog up onto your bed, but he walks out of the bedroom in disgust
You whistle the theme tune from Deliverance and a tumbleweed of dog fur rolls across your path

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 35.0

2009-06-09T11:41:00.000-07:00

You know it's time to find a new job when:

You put on a baseball cap instead of brushing your hair
You decide showering every second day is enough
You get nostalgic about your feminist university days and stop shaving your armpits
You find a certain joy of accomplishment in cleaning the kitchen
You run out of laundry to do
Your makeup is covered in a layer of dust
You have opened and dealt with all the snail mail
You go to the video store and there's nothing that appeals - you've seen everything
You are up to date on all of your podcasts
You follow 300 people on Twitter and you feel like you know them all individually

Quote Unquote

2009-06-09T09:28:00.001-07:00

Stolen from Debineezer's A Beautifully Messy Mess of Contradictions, this quote is a perfect update for an old standard:

"Put down the rose-colored crack pipe."

Superpowers by David J. Schwartz.

He Said, She Said

2009-06-09T09:14:00.000-07:00

"Breakfast!" he said.

"Mmmmm," she said, from bed.

A few minutes later, he stomped through to the bedroom.

"Honey, was there dishwashing soap on the grill pan?"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, trying to wake up.

"Was there dishwashing soap on the grill pan?"

"Um... yes. I was letting the grease loosen so I could wash it easily."

"Why would you leave soap on the grill pan?" he said, exasperated.

"What did you cook?

"Bacon!" he wailed. "I made bacon sandwiches! If you have soap on the grill pan, why don't you put it in the sink?"

"Why would you cook on a dirty grill pan? That's disgusting."

"It didn't look that dirty!"

"I'm sorry," she said, knowing how much a bacon sandwich in the morning means to an Englishman.

Placated, he stomped off to his study.

Taking a few minutes before getting up, she rolled around and stretched. He stomped to the bathroom, every step accentuated on the wooden floors. She heard him spit twice then rinse with mouthwash, garling loudly.

And that's when she realized that the whole thing was actually quite funny.

She heaved herself out of bed, took her happy pill, brushed her teeth and went through to his office giving him a hug as he sat at his computer.

He looked doleful. She was smirking. He looked up at her, quizzically.

"Can I laugh about this yet," she asked, giggling, "or is it too soon?"

I won't repeat what he said.

Hello from Puppy Dog

2009-06-08T08:30:00.001-07:00

Hello Mama's friends!

Today Mama played with the Dysonmonster. I hate that damned thing!

Mama plays with it every now and again and I just don't know why. I'm always here, available to play Fetch. Why does Mama need that horrible thing?

That stupid Dysonmonster is boring. It only plays in the house. I am versatile. I play in the yard and in the house. Sometimes I even bring some of the yard with me when I come into the kitchen!

That stupid Dysonmonster needs everything in the house moved around when it comes out to play. I don't need things to be moved around. I can get under them and around them and, if Mama isn't looking, I can even get up on top of them!

That stupid Dysonmonster has a terrible howl that just goes on and on and on. And the moon isn't even up! At least I know when howling is appropriate. It's just good manners, after all!

And - here's the worst thing! Mama forgets how much she loves me when she plays with the Dysonmonster! Today she called me a "Walking Furball!"

I'm going to go and sit down on my cushion and sulk now. It isn't fair!

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog

Flavors of America: Classic Diner

2009-06-07T22:18:00.001-07:00

Just outside Ellensburg there's an old gas station that has a new life as a classic diner. And the burgers are pretty good, too.

Quote Unquote

2009-06-07T21:36:00.001-07:00

"I don't like chatty. I don't do chatty. I like quiet. Quiet and mean. Those are my people."

Edie Falco in Nurse Jackie.

Stuff Female People Like

2009-06-07T18:32:00.000-07:00

In the USA, the list of household DIY tasks a wife gives to her husband is called The Honey Do list, as in, "Honey, please do this...."

But I don't believe that many Female People actually make a list. For a start, that takes the effort to actually write something down when you notice a lightbulb has blown - probably while carrying a large load of washing. Second, the list would have to be constantly amended (i.e. added to) which could be demotivating for the Male Person. Third, writing an actual list risks getting a list of your own.

And so, what happens in reality is that the Female Person likes...

13. The Passive-Agressive Honey-Do List

There are very clear rules to maintaining the Passive-Agressive Honey-Do List.

List item creation - The Female Person must shout the latest list item accross the house when the Male Person is busy with something else. The announcement must, by definition, be an interruption, an annoyance. That way, it's bound to be more memorable.
List item reminder - The Female Person must notice that the issue - let's use the example of replacing a blown lightbulb - has not been fixed a few days later and, again, shout about it when the Male Person's head is somewhere else. The tone must be a little harsher, a little more impatient, this second time.
List item allusions - After one reminder, the gloves are off. From this moment on, the Female Person stirs up her creative juices and mixes in a double shot of sarcasm. The list item must be alluded to as often as possible, preferably while disussing something completely unrelated. Hence:

"Of course I'll make you a cup of tea, honey. How about tomorrow when the sun comes up and I can see what I'm doing in there?"
"Where's the cheese grater? It's in the dishwasher. I would have unpacked it but I didn't want to leave the fridge door open that long. The light is good but you lose all the cold air in there."
"Please can you feed the dog? You see better in the dark than I do."

The Passive-Agressive Honey-Do List is really an art. Any comment or request made by the Male Person must trigger a creative process which somehow, some way, brings the conversation back to the Honey-Do List item.

It takes a perfect blend of bad timing, bitchiness and booby trapping.

Stuff Female People Like

2009-06-06T09:32:00.000-07:00

12. Other people's babies

Female People are, of course, genetically programmed to like and want babies. Luckily, a combination of intelligence, evolution and modern medicine mean that the Female Person - if she is lucky enough to be able to afford it - has a choice of whether or not to actually bear/nurture one of her own.

But let us leave biological clocks and motherhood aside for a moment and focus on the social situations where Female People encounter babies belonging to other people. The reactions of Female People in these situations generally fall into four different categories.

a) Baby Blinkers - I am going to ignore that damn baby

Here, the Female Person puts on imaginary, invisible blinkers and refuses to see the baby.

The hostile reaction of the Female Person in this case should not be misinterpreted. She is ignoring that baby on purpose. Sometimes, animal instinct pushes through the map-for-the-future, the career ambitions, the detailed knowledge of the commitment required, and the huge compromises that have to be made, to raise a child. The head knows all these things, but the heart swells and the womb quivers. In these moments, the Female Person is stopping herself from looking at the baby - the same way she steels herself in front of a slice of chocolate cake when on a diet - because she doesn't want to face that awful biological reality.

Be kind to the Female Person who is suffering this dilemma. Help her out. Pinch your baby lightly on the arm. As it starts to scream bloody murder, you'll see the Female Person visibly relax, reminded of why she absolutely, positively doesn't want one of those screeching shit machines - yet.

b) The Scientist - I am going to observe that fascinating baby

Some Female People find babies strangely fascinating, like a foreign culture that pierces their noses with elephant tusks. They'll watch babies in public places as they contemplate the dangling toys on their strollers, at BBQs as they totter around the yard touching the plants, at friends' houses as they clumsily pet the - very patient - dog.

Watching babies learn is an insight into our own development. Watching babies discover is a small symbol of our capacity to experience wonder. Watching babies find joy in little things is a reminder that we can simplify our lives.

c) The Goo-goo Ga-ga - I am going to make stupid faces at that cute baby

The Goo-goo Ga-ga is a Female Person who has no fear of public humiliation. Through her car window, in restaurants, in the park. Wherever. This Female Person will make faces and high pitched noises at the baby.

The baby will often find this amusing but, for the adults, the funniest is when the Goo-goo Ga-ga does her thing and the baby's face goes red, crumples like a receipt you find months later in your car door and bursts into tears.

d) The Baby Borrower - I am going to go over there, uninvited, and play with that adorable baby

Here we have the Female Person who likes babies but just doesn't want to make the sacrifices needed to have one full time. She may therefore "borrow" other people's babies. In public, the Baby Borrower can pick and choose the baby to interact with. The naughty, crying baby can be ignored - the cute, gurgling one can be co-opted.

The Female Person approaches the baby's carer, gushes some compliment and sweeps the baby up into her arms. The baby borrowing can be as little as a minute or, in scarier cases, as long as ten. I've seen someone sit down at a different table with a baby in a coffee house.

I've also seen Mothers with Baby Borrower Radar who manage to snatch their babies up while the Baby Borrow is still in the introductory compliment stage. Well you can't blame them.

"Just because you pay my child a compliment," a friend of mine told me, "doesn't mean you can have her."

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 29.1

2009-06-03T19:05:00.000-07:00

A few days ago I posted about preparing for interview questions.

When I was preparing to interview a few years ago, I boned up on those "trick questions" you sometimes get. These used to be a favorite of consultancy firms, but also some large corporates.

I found a list of them today in some old filing and I have decided to continue my tradition of giving the answers I wish I could give.

Design a music system for a car. What are the features? Draw a picture
[Takes iPod out of pocket] This a clear enough picture for ya?
Design a communication device for Canadian park rangers
Oh come on! Why replace semaphore? It's fun to watch Canadians look stupid! OOH, what's it all ABOOT? [Laughs hysterically]
Design a coffee maker that will be used by astronauts.
Stop wasting my time, dude. We all know Starbucks has opened six branches up there already.
What are examples of poorly designed software?
[Sighs] Man! Your products! Where do I begin? Why don't you just pick one and then we'll discuss it?
Design an instant messaging system
I need two cans of peas, a can opener, a ball of string and some scissors.
I am your grandmother. Describe what [insert product name here] is to me.
My grandmother is DEAD, you bastard!
How do you test a keyboard?
I hit it on the desk, don't you?
What method would you use to look up a word in a Dictionary?
In a WHAT, now?
How many Christmas trees are there in houses in the world each year on December 25th?
God doesn't like the pagan symbol of the tree. It's decadent and wrong and is an offence to his eye. Shame on thee for idolizing the tree! For shame! For shame!

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 29.0

2009-06-03T16:21:00.000-07:00

It's hot today. Very hot.

So I decide I need a drink. I get a glass out, I get ice out, I get a can of soda water out of the cold cupboard and pour it into the glass, not filling it.

I think "I need a little flavor" so I open the fridge to get the cranberry juice...

No cranberry juice.

Fluffy Bear shopped at Costco so the juice bottles are big enough to drown an average sized cat, so there's probably another bottle downstairs in the old fridge in the basement.

"But," I think, "if I am going down to the basement I might as well take the washing down and put it on."

So I go to the bedroom and get the washing basket and take it downstairs and put washing liquid in the machine and load the clothes and yell at Puppy Dog for eating something on the basement floor and put the washing machine on.

Then I go to the old fridge for the cranberry juice...

No cranberry juice.

"OK," I think. "We're obviously out of cranberry juice. I'll just have to use orange juice."

So I go back upstairs and I open the fridge and I get out the orange juice and I pour it into the glass which is already two thirds full with sparkling water. Orange juice is different to cranberry juice. It's probably some complicated chemical thing. Point is that orange juice and soda water foams more than cranberry juice and soda water and so next thing I know the drink has bubbled over the side of the glass onto the counter.

I reach for the kitchen roll...

No kitchen roll.

The kitchen roll stock from Costco is in the basement. I go back downstairs.

I think: "Well, I might as well get some toilet rolls at the same time. We're on the last third of the last toilet roll in the loo."

So I get a fresh kitchen roll and look over to where the toilet roll is and the big plastic wrapper from the last big pack of toilet rolls is just lying on the floor. That irritates me. I pick it up. I also pick a fresh pack of toilet rolls up.

I go back up to the kitchen. I dump the big plastic wrapper and the fresh kitchen roll on the kitchen counter. I go through to the loo, unwrap the toilet rolls and arrange them nicely in the basket.

I go back to the kitchen. I unwrap the kitchen roll and put it on it's little stand. I take the kitchen roll wrapper, the toilet roll wrapper and the big plastic wrapper and squish them into the trash can.

I take some kitchen roll and wipe up the spilled juice.

Now I can have my drink.

And that is an example of how I manage to get through a whole day without doing one constructive job hunting task.

I think I just heard the washing machine ping. It must be finished. I better go get the clothes out...

Health is Wealth - Gymstractions

2009-06-03T12:15:00.000-07:00

Gymstractions are distractions at the gym that keep you from feeling your own pain.

Today mine were:

The guy in his fifties wearing a Bjorn Borg type head sweatband thingy. Not a good look. Also not a good idea for me to notice him in the middle of doing 15 squats for the third time, start to laugh, lose my balance and almost end up on my ass on the floor.
The two women either side of me on the elliptical trainers who seemed somehow psychically linked at a throat level. They both had iPods in, so it's not like they could hear each other, yet they managed to clear their throats at the same time. So I'm panting away and have to deal with "Hugh-hem-hem". Eventually, I began to try to anticipate it so I'd be less annoyed, like when your husband is snoring next to you and you kid yourself that it has some kind of rhythm, and so you can steel yourself for the next choking noise. Being on a gym machine that showed the seconds passing, I began to time them. Turned out it was roughly every thirty seconds but, as soon as I got ready for them, there'd be nothing, I'd relax thinking they were going to miss this cycle, and then the hacking noises were back. Thank God Silent Evil only makes us do ten minutes on the elliptical or I may have had to reach out my arms and firmly touch someone.
The trainer who is almost at evil as ours. I think I might have told you about him before. He had a very fit woman screeching like she was in a very different sweaty situation at that moment. I went up to him and asked him if he realized he could make women scream in a much nicer setting. He laughed and said he got paid better for what he was doing right there.
The Yummy Mummies coming out of the spin class. Wow. It really is true for women that, if you don't earn money, you better stay in shape so you don't get traded in for a younger model. These ladies were looking luscious in Lycra. I chose to see them as my Personal Goal Barbies. I decided I'd work towards the first one's breasts, the third one's ass and the last one's arms.
The very skinny pale guy who seems to defy physics. How can arms that skinny pull down weights that heavy? He must have been working out for a while to be able to do that. Where are his muscles? It's a mystery.

Tuning into these distractions, I almost made it through my whole workout. But not quite. My heart started racing about 40 minutes in and I felt a bit nauseous. This is only my second workout since having the cold for a week and a half and I am amazed at how much strength I have lost. On the other hand, I am a lot stronger than my first workout after the cold.

Still, my lungs are not clear yet, and the haze of pollen isn't helping. So my heart starts beating the bongos and my stomach starts churning the breakfast smoothie and my first thought is about the article I read where people who have heart attacks usually have them when they have colds and are active and I am mentally scanning my arms for shooting pain and I have to sit down and rest.

Then Fluffy Bear reminds me I have an inhaler in my handbag in the locker room and I come back to reality.

Silent Evil put us both back on the ellipticals - thank God the throat clearers were gone - then abs, then stretch. Then off to Peets Coffee for a frozen soy coffee blended drink which is 180 calories of happiness.

Whew.

Quote Unquote

2009-06-02T21:17:00.000-07:00

Ashes to Ashes, from the BBC, tells the story of Alex Drake, a female detective who gets shot and, while in a coma, gets beamed back in time and has to work on the London police force in 1981.

Her boss is DCI Hunt, an old school policeman who beats up witnesses for information, has a filthy mouth, smokes all the time and drives a red Audi Quattro. The slang for boss is "Guv", short for Governor.

In tonight's episode, DCI Hunt gets beaten up. The next morning he comes into the station and doesn't want to talk to Alex. As she pursues him, wanting to talk, he asks to be locked up in a cell so he can get some peace.

His staff, two numbskulls, Chris and Ray, are standing with Alex, wondering what is going on.

"Perhaps it's one of 'em nervous breakdown things," says Chris.
"Nah," says Ray. "If the Guv saw a nervous breakdown comin', he'd twat it in the face."

Another 10 things I didn't know about dogs

2009-05-31T18:38:00.001-07:00

The first 10 things are here.

Here are another 10 things I didn't know about dogs before we had one of our very own.

Dogs drool. If you take too long to serve Puppy Dog's food, there will be a puddle of drool on the floor where he's been waiting for you
Dogs shed. When Puppy Dog shakes himself, fur flies in all directions. You just have to see him do it in the right light to see how much hair comes off. It's scary
Dogs can get obsessive. If Puppy Dog has a ball (probably stolen from another dog in the park) and we are are trying to pry it out of his mouth, he goes into a Zen state of panting and clamps his jaws together harder than a crocodile
Dogs complain. Especially when they are at the screen door and see something outside they'd like to get a closer sniff of. Bill calls it Dogette's "Monkey noises" because she does sound like a little monkey, oo-oo-ooing away. And - what fun! Since Dogette came to stay, Puppy Dog does it too!
Dogs sigh. If Puppy Dog is sent to his cushion as a punishment, and isn't allowed to move, he eventually lies down with a big, resigned, sulky sigh
Dogs sun tan. Puppy Dog will lie on the exact patch of floor where the sun is shining through the window, or go and lie on the grass in the back yard. Then he gets hot and comes inside to lie on the floor for a while
Dogs are photopscychic. No matter how quiet you are, or how sneakily you move, both Puppy Dog and Dogette know when you are about to snap a photo, and they move. Every frackin' time
Dogs are hungry all the time. All the time
Dogs are creatures of habit. They are very in tune with their inner clock. Puppy Dog knows when it is breakfast and dinner time, and tells us if we forget. He knows when it is bed time, and only gets up on the bed after he has had his breakfast and his potty, even if he is invited.
Dogs like to lick humans. A lot. Even if they don't have food on their fingers.

Health is Wealth - Cut the Crave

2009-05-31T17:41:00.000-07:00

Another visit this week to Softly Concerned, our Nutritionist.

I told her that the major problem I was having is that I am having sugary cravings again. Back on the Eatathon!

She began by telling me - just as she did last time we met - that I am craving sugar because I'm not eating enough protein. She explained that protein is slow release energy and, if the body doesn't have enough of it, then it asks you for quick release energy - sugar and carbs.

I tend to not have much appetite for large pieces of meat or poultry these days, I don't buy three soy lattes a day anymore and, now that I'm not working, I can't go up to the cafeteria and buy my favorite protein bar. So I guess my protein intake has gone down.

"How about protein powder in your morning smoothies?" she asked.

It was one of those slap-your-forehead moments. Of course! I used to have protein powder, I ran out and I forgot to replace it.

That's the thing about seeing a nutritionist. It's not about being lectured, it's about being educated and reminded.

Softly Concerned went on to tell me about healthy choices for something sweet - some dried apricots, a fruit.

"Nope," I told her. "Doesn't always cut it. Frozen yogurt doesn't do the trick, I want Chunky Monkey. A bran muffin doesn't do it for me - I want a donut."

"Hmm," she said. "Considering the stress you are under, there is a psychological factor here."

No frackin' kiddin'.

"Let's do an exercise together," she said. "You can do this the moment you have a craving. First, sit down comfortably and make sure your feet are on the ground. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. Now visualize your higher self, the person you want to be. Healthier, thinner, whatever. Just conjure up that image and consider it for a while."

She paused, while I contemplated my thinner, healthier, richer self, who didn't have to work and had incredibly thick, lustrous, shiny hair.

"Now think about what it is that you really want at this moment. It isn't a cupcake - that is a substitute for something else. Is it love? Is it rest? Are you tired, fatigued? Do you need a hug? Need to cry? Just take a few deep breaths and find out what is really going on. The more you do this, the easier it will get."

She paused again while I figured out what I needed. Because I didn't have any cravings at that moment, I didn't come to an obvious answer, but the fatigue thing did resonate for sure.

"Now that you know what you need, think about how you can give it to yourself. If you are tired, can you go to bed and just rest for two hours? If you need a vacation, is there some way you can get out of town for a few days?"

"If you can't give yourself what you need literally, then spend some time imagining it. The subconscious doesn't know the difference between reality and imagination. So you might take a moment to imagine yourself on a lovely beach, basking in the sun, listening to the waves lap the shore."

She paused again to give me some time. It was a lovely image. I imagined everything she said - I just added a cocktail in a pineapple with two straws.

Then she moved in her chair a bit to break the spell. I opened my eyes.

"By the time you work through this exercise," she said, "your craving should be gone."

I haven't tried it yet, but I am sure this is going to be a very useful technique.

And I bought myself some protein powder.

Flavors of America: Best Bridge

2009-05-31T00:17:00.000-07:00

Everyone should get to drive over the Golden Gate bridge in an American-manufactured convertible at least once in their lives and yell "Wheeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 25.1

2009-05-30T23:35:00.000-07:00

This week I went to an orientation at the "career transition assistance" service that my ex-employer has engaged for those of us who got laid off.

In case you are lucky enough to have never experienced an career transition firm, they are basically hired to help you find your next job. You get a career coach, classes on topics like interviewing and resume writing, access to an office where you can use a PC, fax, printer, copier, etc. and internet resources such as a job boards and online training. They can be very helpful.

Going to the people hired by my ex-employer - let's call them CTA, embracing the awful descriptor "Career Transition Assistance" - was a very interesting experience.

First, I had no idea where the hell I was going when I was driving there. Thank God for sat nav! At one point I wondered if there was going to be a checkpoint and someone was going to ask me for my passport. It's pretty much double the distance I used to drive to work.

Second, the office is in a horrible business park, in a nondescript building where CTA is the only tenant on the top floor. So, as you get out of the elevator, if you look left rather than right, you are met with the encouraging sight of a huge empty office space, pockmarked with little piles of empty cardboard boxes.

Third, my ex-employer has not simply hired an outplacement firm and let them take care of us at their facility. Nope. My ex-employer had set up a special office for it's outcasts, manned by CTA staff. But everything other than the staff is from my ex-employer. The cube furniture, the equipment, the fridges with sodas, the snack machines, the coffee makers. The coffee cups have my ex-employer's branding on them! Way to help us move on!

I noticed all this stuff as I arrived at the facility and, by the time a CTA staff member collected us newbies for the orientation, I was starting to giggle. It was just so ridiculous.

We were taken on a quick tour of the facility. 90% empty cubes, fax/copier/printer, some notice boards with jobs on them, a conference room, offices with closed doors where the career counsellors worked with their clients. It was very, very quiet.

I felt a little reassured when the CTA person explained all the services on offer for us. Hmm, I thought, this could actually be very helpful.

"There are so many resources," the CTA person smiled reassuringly, "that you can use to help you in your transition."

"Yeah," said a delightful New Zealander sitting next to me, "but I have to stop feeling pissed off first."

"Oh I know," said the CTA person. "We have a graph that shows the phases you'll be going through. I can show it to you."

I'm sure he felt comforted by that.

I could see that this whole thing could be beneficial, but I started to wonder how I could avoid trekking out to this empty cube farm hell every day. I'd done my research beforehand, so I asked if I could please see a career counsellor in the CTA offices which are much closer to my home.

"This is the office that [my ex-employer] has set up for you," I was told, meaningfully.

"OK," I said, "but where the hell are we?"

Rather than get my joke, the four people in the room with me explained that we were north of X and south of Y and if you go 2 miles down to Z street and turn right, and go another 3 miles, there's a great chain restaurant that does a really good lunch.

I want my next job to be in the city. These people have suburban stripmallitis.

"Besides," the CTA person went on, "if you come here this is where the networking really happens."

Oh great.

I can drive for forty minutes, walk the silent corridors, sit in a soulless cube and, when I cant stand that anymore, I can meet someone in the kitchen and, both holding our ex-employer-branded coffee cups, we can chat about the good old days. And about how we're moving on up and moving on out. How it's time to break free, and nothing can stop us.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 25.0

2009-05-30T12:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a strange day.

First, some context: I have been rejoicing and lamenting at the same time.

Rejoicing for Fluffy Bear, who is working on a start-up and showcasing the intelligence, tenacity and talent that I always knew he had. He is making real progress because of his hard work and a set of meaningful coincidences which have enabled friends to help his business get on it's feet.

Lamenting for me because I felt that the universe was not showing me clear signs like it seems to be for my husband.

But yesterday I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I realized last night, after my very full day was over, that there had been some signs...

First, I had lunch with an ex-colleague and her daughter. Let's call my ex-colleague Nancy Drew, because she has an uncanny ability to fix problems. And let's call her daughter Scarlett O'Hara, because she has such courage under adversity.

Scarlett O'Hara's life changed completely recently when she got a very rare disease. After seeing a holistic practitioner and having tests, she also found out that she had two major food allergies. And so her body is riddled with drugs and detoxing from years of eating foods it can't process. She is tired, in pain and yet still managing to keep her job and live her life. This huge change is being faced by a young girl whose major decision that day ought to revolve around what shoes to wear and which guy to date. She is growing up, fast, and will see life completely differently, with a depth and maturity unmatched by many of her peers.

Sign No. 1: Scarlett represents someone facing huge, unexpected change with stamina, courage and grace. I need to do the same.

Second, I met with She's So Lovely, my therapist. We talked through what's going on with losing my job, trying to find another one and the fact that, at the moment, I feel like an upside-down swan.

The swan is often used as a metaphor for the perfect party hostess. What you see is a beautiful, elegant bird, gliding effortlessly across the water. What you don't see is the strong paddling going on below the surface.

Right now, if you look at me from the waist up, you see a lot of energy, positivity, pro-activeness. I am networking, going to my old firm's outplacement consultants, sending out my resume, bla bla bla. But actually, below the surface, I'm not really moving. From the knees down I'm am sunk into the slushy, gloopy mud of fear and procrastination. And not only that, sometimes I worry it might not be mud, but quicksand.

I haven't really done deep work on my resume, I haven't evaluated what I want to do and who I want to work for. I just keep focusing on the large corporates who have offices in my city. I don't have a plan. I still haven't unpacked the case of stuff from my old cube.

I'm stuck.

She's So Lovely told me two important things. First, how to do interventions and remind myself that I am talented, intelligent, marketable and would be an asset to any organization. Second, she advised me to cast my net wider. Think about jobs that would bring me closer to my creative side, where I'd have fun, be enthused and want to get up and go into work every day.

Sign No. 2: Intervene in stuck thinking and be freed to move forward.

Sign No. 3: Broaden your horizons. Anything can happen.

Then I went to a networking thing with Fluffy Bear last night. I'd forgotten how hard networking can be. It takes energy to go up to total strangers, strike up a conversation and then weave your pitch into it in such a way that it sounds completely natural.

Think of all those radio and TV ads that try to recreate a conversation where one person recommends something to someone else. Don't they always sound so fake?

So I move through the crowd, promoting my man and his killer idea, conversing with people half to two thirds my age, spilling my drink down my cleavage and getting my lipstick on my teeth.

And then, just as I am starting to stroke Fluffy Bear's arm in that meaningful way that tells him I want to go home to my couch, fattening food and a mindless DVD, I meet Phoebe.

I am calling her Phoebe because, like the character in Friends, she is very much in touch with her intuition. I saw very quickly that she is a very intelligent woman. She's show great courage in her past and had her taste of corporate America. But she has a firm belief in keeping her eyes open for the signs that lead you to the right place at the right time.

She felt, a few years ago, that she should go to a country in South America. She went there, alone, and started walking the streets, talking to people. She came across families who were trying to rise up out of poverty, perhaps through opening a little tobacco stand, or repairing the roof over their heads. And so she contacted people back home and began to raise money. She didn't start an official charity, she just found funds, walked around and helped people. Every time she thought she could get on a plane to go home, more money would come which she had to find a way to distribute. Initially planning to be there for a few weeks, she eventually spent six months changing lives for the better, and she has been back to do it again another four times.

There were other personal stories which she shared which I won't go into here, but which clearly demonstrated that you need to listen to that little inner voice which tells you to do something, to go somewhere or to contact someone. The effects can be life saving. Literally.

Sign No. 4: Listen to your intuition, for it will lead you where you need to be.

And so I guess I need to apologize to the gods/the universe/my guardian angel/my ancestors - whatever it is that guides and protects us. I've been bitching and moaning about no clear signs. But they've been there all the time.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 23.0

2009-05-28T17:54:00.000-07:00

I had to fire my cleaner today, and I cried.

I didn't cry because I can't bear the thought of scrubbing my floors myself, I cried for her, and for me.

Why did I cry for her?

I cried for her because I am sure I am not the only who has had to fire their cleaner. And all the cleaners out there are going to be earning less. All the people who do services that the middle class decide they can do themselves are going to be earning less. And these are the people who can't afford to be earning less.

Here are the people who are going to be affected by Fluffy Bear and I being out of work:

Cleaner
Dog poop scoopers
Personal Trainer
Nutritionist
Masseur
Chiropractor
Dog groomer
Doggy day care
Hairdresser
Esthetician - I used buy my face products there, now I use off the shelf stuff from the grocery store
Dog trainer
Mowing service
Hedge trimming service

These are all people who run small businesses, or work for themselves.

And all because publicly held organizations serve shareholders rather than stakeholders and mistakenly believe that the Federal Government alone should fund a stimulus package.

I want to make T-shirts that say "Reject the Recession! Buy something!" because each and every one of us who spends less makes this thing a self-fulfilling prophecy. But I can't. Because I'd be a hypocrite. Because I have to spend less. A lot less.

Why did I cry for me?

I cried for me because we did everything we could to keep our cleaner. Of all the services we buy, her's was the last to get downsized. Because we aren't stupid - we can forsee the petty arguments that doing (or not doing) chores around the house are going to bring. And, with one of us boot strapping a startup and the other looking for work, stress levels are already running high.

I heard a report on the BBC World Service the other day, centered on the book Getting to 50-50 - How Working Couples Can Have it All by Sharing it All where the reporter warned against getting rid of the cleaner when times are hard. Easier said than done.

This isn't going to be pretty.

I also cried for me because firing the cleaner was a real sign. A sign that everything is not OK, that maybe - just maybe - things won't be OK either.

The event made a little chink in my armor, a little crack in the positive, gung-ho facade.

What if I don't find a job?

What if our savings run out?

What if we end up having to leave the US and live with family again?

What if, what if, endless what ifs.

But, here's the thing.

Tomorrow, I'll feel better. Tomorrow I'll remember that we survived the meltdown in 2001. Tomorrow I'll feel confident and network and jobhunt and think positive what ifs, like how I'd want my kitchen to be in my dream house.

And I'll buy a floor mop and get ready to clean this house.

Puppy Dog better get over his fear of the vaccuum cleaner, cos I'm gonna run that sucker over his shedding arse every morning from now on...

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 22.1

2009-05-27T10:00:00.000-07:00

After writing my previous post about interview prep, I started thinking about what the worst answers to those common questions might be.....

What was your worst group experience?
Omigod! Team building! I hate that crap! Just let me do my work already!
What is the one good thing your last manager would say about you?
I give good head.
What is the one bad thing your last manager would say about you?
That I won't just let him roll over and go to sleep after.
You have six months to do a nine month project, what do you do?
Tell those managers where to stick it. You can have on time, on budget or good quality. Pick one.
How have you demonstrated leadership at a previous company?
I quit before the fuckers could fire me.
Tell me about yourself.
My resume is right in front of you. Isn't that the POINT?
If you could start your career again from the begining, what would you change?
I'd become a pimp. Then at least I could laid.
What would you like to accomplish that you weren't able to in your previous position?
The Indian Headstand Kama Sutra position.
Tell me how you would handle multiple projects on the job.
Kill the ones I didn't find interesting.
Was there ever a time when a project you were working on had major delays? What did you do?
Omigod! There was this one time, in Frankfurt, where our project was just totally screwed up. Everybody was freaking out and stabbing each other in the back. I took a vacation. I just can't let political crap at my job bring me down, man.
Tell me about a problem that you failed to anticipate.
Well, hell, who knew you could get fired for taking your secretary on a little weekend side trip after a conference? Isn't that what expenses are for?
Which of your accomplishments have given you the greatest satisfaction?
That three way I had with my boss and her assistant. Man, that supply closet will never be the same.
Have you ever had to deal with ethical issues - like race or religion - on the job? How did you deal with it?
You just to have a sense of humor. I mean, when I called Salim "Saddam" in meetings, he knew I was joking. We're totally friends. And our clients totally thought it was funny, too.
Why do you want this job?
Pays the bills. What other reason is there. All you corporate twonks are the same.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 22.0

2009-05-27T09:24:00.000-07:00

I had an interview yesterday.

It was through a friend which, once again, just goes to show that firing off resumes through Monster and TheLadders etc. doesn't get you as far as your own network does.

I was a little concerned that the meeting only lasted 40 minutes but I got on very well with the recruiter so maybe she just wanted to do a quick pre-qualify. It wasn't for a role on their permanent staff, but to work through them if they get a specific consulting placement that I'd be a fit for, so that could also explain why it was a little less rigorous.

I was looking at the firm's website while I was doing research and dreading having to look through my resume to prepare to speak about each role. Then I remembered that, back in 2007 when I was job hunting, I wrote a bunch of "stories" about my career as interview prep. So I dragged them out.

It was great because, even though they didn't cover my last job (obviously) they reminded me of stuff from my previous career.

First, I had a set of PAR sheets. These were for each job I had. I chose a story which I could, in theory, weave into a recap of that role. A story which clearly demonstrated where I had made a contribution. A clear, concise story on one sheet of paper in this structure:

Problem - what was the issue
Action - what I did to solve it
Result - what was the positive outcome.

Insert trumpeteer here.

Then I found a set of story sheets. These were responses I'd prepared to common interview questions like:

Discuss the problems of a previous project. How would you resolve them now?
What was your worst group experience?
What is the one good thing your last manager would say about you?
What is the one bad thing your last manager would say about you?
You have six months to do a nine month project, what do you do?
How have you demonstrated leadership at a previous company?

etc. etc.

Re-reading these was really helpful in my interview prep.

Of course I didn't read them enough and practice my answers aloud so they weren't really embedded in my head. So I didn't remember to tell even one of my stories in the interview. Ho hum. Lesson for next time... don't just re-read them... work 'em!

Still, I don't think I did too badly.

The point which seemed to really resonate with the interviewer was when I was honest about the time I tried to set myself up as an independent consultant. She chuckled when I told her (don't forget my English accent) that I had been "spectacularly unsuccessful."

Quote Unquote

2009-05-25T21:50:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine - let's call her Dolly because, like the protagonist in Hello Dolly, everyone loves her - was in a meeting with her young assistant and a designer.

For reasons I won't go into - I'll just reassure you that it was part of a joke and not a homophobic comment - someone said the word sodomite.

"What's a sodomite?" the young assistant asked.

Dolly explained as best she could without getting too graphic. At some point, a light seemed to go on in the assistant's eyes.

"Aah," she said. "So is the guy on the bottom called a soddomitten?"

Hello from Puppy Dog

2009-05-24T11:17:00.000-07:00

Hello Mama's friends!

I know Mama has been writing about me, so I decided fair's fair - I am going to tell you about Mama's peccadilloes!

Baby-Mama talk

Mama talks to me in strange ways. I know I'm still a (fur)kid, but she sometimes talks to me like I am still a little puppy who doesn't know anything about the world. It can be a bit annoying, really.

She also seems to think I can't understand proper English. So there's the high voice, and then there's the funny words:

Haffgoddabaw? = Have you got a ball? This means Mama is going to play Fetch with me when she sees me bring her a tennis ball. So, even though it sounds kinda silly, it means we're going to play!
Hoozgoobaw? - Who's a good boy? This is when Mama is happy with me and it means I am going to get petted and scratched behind the ears and stroked. He he he. I like being scratched behind the ears.
Wezzabaw? = Where's the ball? This is when Mama decides she wants to play Fetch with me, which happens at the strangest times and is always a wonderful surprise! So she is asking me to go find a ball so we can play together. I always find one really fast.
Cumseetya! = Come and sit here. This is when Mama calls me to sit on the couch with her. I can curl up and she scratches the top of my head and I can rest my chin on her leg and it's really snuggly and warm and mmmmmmmm....
Wotchoodoo? = What are you doing? Mama says this to me as she stamps both her feet on the ground and bends down, which means we are about to wrestle! I get to run and jump and she holds my front arms and I bite her forearm and then she lets me go and runs to the bed and jumps on it and I jump on her and we roll around and she hits her flat hand on the side of my open jaws and I can't catch her hand to bite it and we both growl and it's so much fun!!!
Kmup! = Come up. This is Mama in the morning when she's fed me and let me out for a pee and then she goes back to bed. Then I am allowed to get up on the bed with her and Dada and we all nap a little more together. It's a happy, warm, sleepy family.

You know, I guesss if I think about it, everytime Mama talks silly to me, something pretty awesome happens. So maybe it's not so bad....

By the way, I've decided to reveal my true identity, so become my friend on Facebook! My name is PDog Chocolate Lab.

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 18.0

2009-05-23T18:36:00.001-07:00

A considerably better day than yesterday.

The sun is shining, my cold is finally clearing up, Peets Coffee made me a perfect blended decaf soy and we just happened to turn down a street that had a new icecream shop on it. I had a scoop of coffee and one of walnut, in the sweetest, crunchiest, yummiest waffle cone.

Doesn't icecream just make everything OK? I think it might just be proof that there is a Higher Being.

We took Puppy Dog for a long walk and swim and he was ecstatic. It's so wonderful to see him bounding across fields, chasing tennis balls at top speed, or jumping into the water, lollopy-swimming through it (he's swims as if he is walking through the water - it's not that graceful), again, to retrieve a little lime green furry, bouncy ball.

Afterwards I happened to see an old colleague who I really hope will become a true friend - she's great. Seeing her again was a nice way to reconnect with news of people I care about and don't get to see every day anymore.

I oscillate between being proactive and moving on, and grieving. I guess that's natural. I still haven't unpacked the case of all the crap I took from my cube. I think that fact alone is pretty revealing.

But I also have an interview lined up next week, and it's a holiday weekend so - what the heck! - I'm gonna kick back now, watch some mindless TV, and eat something that is very bad for me.

Puppy Dog's Peccadilloes

2009-05-23T18:01:00.000-07:00

Ear Flaps

Puppy Dog has soft, flappy ears that hang down his head. Not as long as a Basset Hound's but still, they hang and can get blown back by the wind, which is hilarious.

But the cutest thing is to watch him sitting at the screen door, looking out at the world. And then focusing on his ears. As he tunes in to different sounds, the ear flaps move: back, twitch, forward, twitch, then they lift up, then they relax down, twitch!

It's like watching one of those men wave the little red paddles at a taxiing aircraft.

Active Dreaming

Many dogs do this, I know, but it's just that much funnier when mine does it. He moves and makes noises when he dreams.

Sometimes he'll run, laid out horizontal, two sets of claws scratching on the wooden floor.

Sometimes he'll twitch, which I always imagine is that tiny moment, the instant he actually sees the Evil Squirrel in Dreamland.

Sometimes he'll growl or bark - softly, like invisible hand has turned his volume down two thirds of the way.

Strange - now that I think about it, I've never seen his tail wag in his dreams. They must all be hunting ones, full of Evil Squirrels, Naughty Kitties and other furry creatures who are gonna totally get theirs.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 17.0

2009-05-22T16:36:00.000-07:00

Today is a dark day.

I don't know why, but I have started questioning every career path decision I made at my previous employer. Where did I go wrong? Why was I so badly positioned that I was one of the 10% to go?

There were moments when I was advised to take a different direction, and I resisted. Then, when I realized my mistake, and asked to change, I was refused.

And so the inner voices have been berating me, blathering on about mistakes and screw ups and blame. It's like an orchestra of mean people creating a cacophony of criticism.

Part of me doesn't want to go back there, but part of me does. A big part of me misses my colleagues who had become sorta-kinda-friends.

But most of all, the it-always-has-to-be-an-A-grade part of me is standing on a high tower, holding a big bullhorn and screeching "FAILURE!" across the skies.

Deep inside, I know it isn't true. But, just for today, it feels like it is.

Couch Potato

2009-05-22T15:19:00.000-07:00

My new favorite show is Glee, about a Glee Club at a High School.

As a foreigner, I didn't even know what a Glee Club was but, judging from the show it is some kind of singing club, kinda like Drama Club, at school.

If I had grown up in the US you can be sure I'd have been in Glee Club as well as Drama Club. Yes, I was that kind of girl. Hell, in a country where we didn't have cheerleading at school I set up a squad.... for the rugby team!

The kids in Glee seem to sing all sorts of songs, but all in that show-tune, belt-it-out, hit-the-high-note way that kids do.

The best moment for me was when the underdog school (our heroes) went to see their rivals for the state championships. There they were, about 30 kids on stage, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, broad smiles, gelled hair and generally just the kinds of kids you wish your brat would bring home as a date. And then they launched into a choreographed, knee-kicking, jazz-handing, squeaky-clean version of Amy Winehouse's song:

They tried to make me go to rehab but I said 'no, no, no'

Yes I've been black but when I come back you'll know know know

I ain't got the time and if my daddy thinks I'm fine

He's tried to make me go to rehab but I won't go go go

(see it here)

The only thing better than that moment was Sue Sylvester's crazy-ass cheerleading coach yelling through a loudhailer at her squad, who were trying to do an elaborate pyramid type thingy where the girls are on the boys' shoulders:

"You think this is hard! Try living with herpes! That's hard!"

Apparently the pilot is a hit because the songs, as sung by the cast, are now available on iTunes.

Watch this. Trust me, once you do, you won't get this version out of you head for at least three days.

I can't wait for the show's official launch!

Quote Unquote

2009-05-22T14:08:00.001-07:00

On reading the post below, Fluffy Bear said:

"If I'd known it was worth that much, I'd have sold mine!"

Quote Unquote

2009-05-22T13:59:00.000-07:00

This quote is rewritten from memory of it from BBC World Service radio:

"You have to go to bed with yourself at night and wake up with yourself in the morning and decide if you've done what's right for you."

Natalie Dylan, a 22 year old Women's Studies student from California who is auctioning her virginity. The highest bids are rumoured to be over $3 million. And, yes, that picture is of her.

Stuff Male People Like - Mini Maintenance

2009-05-21T10:43:00.000-07:00

Today my husband asked me a very strange (well, I thought it was strange) question. And I didn't answer him immediately because I was too busy thinking about whether I should do a quick wipe around the bathroom basin. And then it hit me - I was thinking Microclean, he was thinking Mini-Maintenance!

And thus, Stuff Male People Like was born.

Mini-Maintenance

Male people are taught from childhood that they are responsible for fixing things. Any self help book on opposite-gender relationships will tell the man of the couple that sometimes, his dear lady just wants a sympathetic ear, not suggestions on changes she should make. But the Male Person can't help it contributing ideas for action - he's wired to fix, fix, fix.

Of course some Male People have this stereotype reinforced by wives who keep telling them they promised to change the light bulbs, take out the trash and wire any new plugs in their marriage vows, but I digress...

And so while the Female Person sees the need for a Microclean, the Male Person is ever watchful for opportunities for Mini-Maintenance. This is important, you see, because doing Mini-Maintenance avoids having to do Major Maintenance, which is Mucho Moolah.

Hence you have household scenarios like this...

Scenario 1 - Household

The Female Person is about to grab a cloth and the All Purpose Cleaner to Microclean the brown blotch left on the ceiling from a dirty tennis ball thrown for Puppy Dog which bounced too damn high, when her brain is sideswiped by a question yelled from the kitchen by the Male Person:

"Why is the water pressure low?"

The Female Person has absolutely no idea how to answer this. Water pressure? Low? How does he know it's low? So what if it is low? Why am I involved in this? The Female Person chooses not to answer, hoping this confusing thing will just go away and she'll be able to reach the blotch on the ceiling without falling off the dining room chair.

"Is the washing machine on?" the Male Person yells.
Finally - a question that makes sense!
"Yes," the Female Person yells back.
"Oh. OK," the Male Person says.

None of this makes any sense to the Female Person - she is just glad that there seems to be a tone of resolution in the Male Person's voice and whatever that little thing was has now gone away. Scary thoughts of being made to hold dirty tools while standing next to a muttering, cursing, angry Male Person attempting to perform some unfathomable type of household repair can now be put to rest.

Scenario 2 - Car

"Why is the petrol gauge showing full?" the Male Person asks.

Again, the Female Person has no idea how to answer this. Her brain scurries to think of whether she filled up the tank recently. Nope. She couldn't get to the nice garage where they pump your gas for you before it closed so she just left it, driving past the self serve ones where you get dirty and break your nails.

The Female Person gives up. Frankly, unless the little red light is on, who cares about the gas gauge anyway?

"This isn't right," the Male Person says. "I filled up when we were at six thousand miles."

Once again, utterly meaningless to the Female Person. Oh, wait - the odometer. The Female Person does not understand the Male Person's fascination with this instrument. Occasionally the Female Person will be stuck in traffic, notice that the last number is on a 9, and find some small, inexplicable pleasure at watching it click over to 0. That's about it.

The Female Person stays quiet, for she knows that interjecting into the Male Person's internal dialogue would be relationship suicide. The Female Person knows that the Focus Shift will come, she just has to wait it out.

As the journey progresses there is muttering. The dashboard is tapped. The engine is turned off at traffic lights and turned back on again to see what the gas gauge will do. It is all very stressful to watch. But, finally, there is a sigh and something about "covered under warranty" and it is over, for now. The Focus Shift takes the Male and Female Person away from the dark place and back to whatever reason it is that they were in the car in the first place - thank God.

So let's take a look at what is happening in both of these scenarios.

Indication - There is a change, an sign that there could be a glitch somewhere in the machine.
Awareness - The Male Person notices the glitch.
Theoretical Analysis - The Male Person mentally analyzes all the things that could be causing the glitch, from a relatively benign temporary mishap through to a major moolah-munching malfunction.
Information Gathering - So as to make sure that things are not on the scary end of the scale, the Male Person starts by doing some digging. As the Female Person is in the vicinity of the item with the glitch - she uses it every day - perhaps she's noticed something. Poor Male Person. He doesn't realize that, just as he doesn't see Microcleans, so she doesn't see Mini-Maintenance. Until a red light blinks or there's an annoying beeping noise, the Female Person's fundamental presumption is that all is well with the world - as long as it's clean, of course.
Empirical Observation and Experimentation - Tapping, prodding, accelerating and breaking, pulling the steering wheel right and left, running hot then cold water, etc. Here, the Male Person is trying to isolate factors that might be contributing to, or explain, the glitch. He may also be trying to recreate a defect which, having occurred once while he was watching, is now irritatingly absent.
Recording of Observed Results - Basically: muttering.
Synthesis of Analysis and Reaching a Conclusion - Again: muttering.
The Go/No Go decision - To act, or not to act? This is an important decision. The Male Person firmly believes that dismantling the machine to find the root of the problem may save thousands in repair bills later, that stopping in to see the mechanic now may save having to purchase a major component which has to be shipped from a plant in Yugoslavia. In short, acting now may prevent doom down the road.
Execution - Depending on Go/No Go decision, this phase may or may not occur. The carrying out of Micro-Maintenance is a testosterone-scented dance which should really be avoided by Female People at all costs. The Male Person, depending on his actual ability in the area of question, may actually make an improvement and fix the glitch, or create a situation where the professional repair person has so much more to work with than they would have had if they were just called in in the first place. Either way, the point is that the Male Person has carried out the Mini-Maintenance. Even if the professional repair person has to be called in, at least the Male Person can instruct them with authority and ensure that there is no chance of being ripped off. See? Everyone's a winner!
Focus Shift - Once a resolution - to do nothing, or the achievement of the actual fix - is achieved, the Male Person's focus can shift to something else, and everything is OK again.

And so, by completing the cycle of Micro-Maintenance, the Male Person has saved the day.

Yes, he has, he really, really has.

The PDog anti-depressant

2009-05-20T17:44:00.000-07:00

You cannot be depressed around Puppy Dog.

Today I felt crappy, this F@#$%G cold still won't go away and the thought of job hunting felt too daunting. I also felt foggy and tired, so decided to go back to bed.

I often run into the bedroom and jump on the bed to start a wrestling/biting game with Puppy Dog which is hilarious, but always ends with me screaming "OW!" Still, it's squealy-funny, so it's worth it. Unfortunately, that means that, if I go to bed in the middle of the day, he thinks it's game time.

So I get into bed and he jumps on top of me, growling and biting my right wrist. I grabbed the covers and pulled them over my head and my arm. This, of course, signalled a different game to him. At last, the wrist bite combined with getting through the outer layer of fur! So now I have a dog making that particular sniffling sound they make when they burrow through the outer layer of the animal to get to the soft, warm bits. And next thing there's a cold, wet nose spchlocking me in the face. I wriggled further under the covers and, hard as it was to do, ignored him.

Puppy Dog eventually jumped off, disappointed, and tried coming at me from the side of the bed. I was lying on my side, so his nose prodded my lower back. Boink! Play with me, Mama. Boink! Boink! I kept ignoring him.

Then the low, soft, growly whimpers started. First one sound, then a pause, then a combination of low and high, then a pause, then a single sound again, high pitch. It's a heartbreaking sound which really pushes your buttons, kinda like when a baby cries. I sighed, but stood firm, and kept ignoring him.

Puppy Dog is very, very energetic. He's only 2 years old and it shows. He has to be walked for at least 40 minutes - an hour is much better - daily. If he doesn't get to blow off his energy, he gets a bit nuts.

So now begins the demonstration of how badly he needs a work out. There's the sprint from the bedroom to his cushion in the lounge, then through the dining room, kitchen and back door to the top of our small back yard, then back through the whole house to the front door, then back to the dining room to stop and do a major neck scratch with the left leg. We have wooden floors so believe me when I tell you that I could hear every step from the bedroom.

I gave in.

Time to face the world.

I got out of bed, showered, took Puppy Dog for a walk and started hitting my network up for a job.

He said She said

2009-05-20T17:31:00.000-07:00

"What do you see?" she said, holding up the packaging from a USB humping dog bought for them by the ever-hilarious Bill.

" 'USB meets love'," he said, quoting the packaging strapline.
"No, what else?" she said.

"Green fields and funny flowers," he said, describing the stylized design.
"No, what else?" she said.

There was a pause.

"BOOBIES!" he yelled, finally noticing that the pink hills at the top of the stylized field of flowers happened to have darker pink protruding mountaintops.

"When I asked N, a friend of ours who happens to be over 10 years younger than us, he saw them right away!" she shrieked.

"No fair!" he said. "I was looking from the bottom up!"

"Yeah," she said, "right."

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 15.0

2009-05-20T12:01:00.000-07:00

I got flowers!

I was out with some friends and I got this phone call which was incomprehensible. One of those situations where you have to run outside, explaining you are in a bar and then hope that this isn't a headhunter who works long hours and thinks it's ok to call at 6:30pm and who now thinks you are a drunk. But no, it was someone saying they had flowers for me and would it be OK to leave them on our front porch.

I said yes, and felt very sorry for the delivery person, because Puppy Dog, although angelic of face, can sound like a hellhound if anyone approaches his Den. We also have a screen door, so it can be hard to see exactly how big the snarling barkmachine behind it is if you are standing at the bottom of our three steps wondering if today is a good day to die. I can only imagine the poor delivery person ran up, plonked the flowers near the door and ran away as fast as his little legs would carry him.

When we got home, there they were - a stunningly beautiful arrangement centered on the protea, a favorite flower of mine for reasons I choose not to tell you. Sorry, us women need to keep some sense of mystery.

Fluffy Bear had, of course, tried to take credit for the flowers - jokingly of course - but we both knew it wasn't him, so we were both really interested to see who they were from.

And the card read:

Love the blog
Love the protea?
Get well soon!
Everywhereventually

My dearest friend who lives across the pond and still, from afar, can make my day.

Puppy Dog's Peccadilloes

2009-05-19T13:23:00.004-07:00

Tummy is not for Mummy

Puppy Dog will not lie on his back to let me rub his tummy. That is only for Dada, the alpha dog.

Cleary the No. 1 Bitch does not have enough status - I can rub his tummy when he's standing up, when he's on his side, but I aint getting no on the back, hips wide open, penis airing tummy action.

PDog the Hypnotist

Puppy Dog firmly believes in his hypnotic powers. As you sit comfortably eating dinner in front of the TV, you suddenly notice a very quiet dog, sitting completely still, staring deep into your eyes.

You can almost hear his instructions:

"Look into my eyes... Yes... Relax... Clear your mind, you're quite safe... Yes... Just relax... Yes... You want to share your food with the dog... You want to share your food with the dog... You waaaant to shaaaare your foooood with the doooooooog."

Poor Dog. All he gets is us mocking him in the same old way:

"He's gone all David Blaine again."
"Oooooooooh! Scaaaary!"
"Maybe he's going to go and sit in his den for 57 days next."
"Maybe he's going to make the couch disappear."
"Nah, he likes the couch."

Poor Puppy Dog.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 14.0

2009-05-19T13:15:00.000-07:00

Well, it's official. Fluffy Bear and I are both free agents.

As he is very well known in his industry, he's already had three calls from other companies who've heard he's available through the grapevine and want to talk turkey. So he'll be fine.

I am toying with the idea of us doing something stupid and going away for Memorial Day weekend. Just get away from it all, have some fun and then do the serious job hunt networking resume editing bla bla bla stuff afterwards.

But how to go away for a weekend and manage to just forget money woes? Would we be able to not question every restaurant check, not look for the cheaper option on the menu and not make passive agressive toasts to our former bosses? The whole thing might turn out to be anything but a destress weekend. Especially for our friends who we're thinking of tagging along with.

Also I have done so much business and personal flying that the thought of even driving to the airport negates the happiness of a weekend away for me. If it was a two week holiday I can put up with the shit airplane seats, the awful line at security, the moron in front of me who doesn't know they have to take off their shoes before they go through the scanner, but for just a three day weekend? Hmmmmmm

A cabin in the woods might be nice. We could take Puppy Dog, have nice walks every day, take our own food... It would be especially good if it had a hot tub. Mmmmm... Now we talkin'.

Maybe I should do some online searching....

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 13.0

2009-05-18T17:42:00.000-07:00

There's a global recession, you're out of work, time to make some changes. But don't worry! Because you're already....

Saving money without even trying!

You're not commuting to work anymore, right? Well - and this is especially true if you used to drive every day - you're saving money! Just think how much money you spend a month on commuting.
You're not showering every day anymore are you? It's OK - you can admit it. Think of the water bill - you're saving money!
If you're a woman who shops at a department store for cosmetics, you have tons of little samples lying around all over the place. Are they in your makeup drawer? In the medicine cabinet? In your business travel bag? Wherever they are, get them out cos you're about to excite your skin with all sorts of gels and creams instead of stocking up on your usual stuff. There you go! You're saving money!
You're eating lunch at home instead of the cafeteria or the local Cheesecake Factory, aren't you? You're saving money!
You don't have a Starbucks or Tulleys too close by so I figure you're drinking 0-10% as many overpriced designer coffees than you used to. You're saving money!
You're so depressed you can't get off the couch, can you? Just think, if you were still working, how many Happy Hour, dinners and movies you would have been to by now in a futile attempt to distract your overactive mind from the nightmare of your Inbox, the maze of office politics and that annoying colleague who just won't leave you alone. So, by being antisocial, you're saving money!
You're sleeping later and later, aren't you? When you sleep, you don't eat, drink, smoke, turn on the TV - you don't do anything that could up the bills. By sleeping, you're saving money!
You're not washing and styling your hair nearly as often as when you were working, right? Just think how much shampoo, conditioner and styling spray you're saving, not to mention the electricity that goes into that hairdryer. By dragging a comb through your hair, sticking in an elastic band and looking like crap cos you're not gonna see anyone today anyway, you're saving money!

So stop worrying about rebudgeting. You're already cutting back!

Puppy Dog's Peccadilloes

2009-05-18T14:54:00.000-07:00

No cuddle if you wriggle

One of Puppy Dog's more annoying peccadilloes is that, if he is lying next to you on the couch or on the bed, and you make the slightest movement, he jumps off, sometimes with a low growl.

The other day he was curled up next to me on the couch and his head was leaning on my leg. His soft little ear was flapped over my shin and I reached out to stroke it. Grr! Jump! He was gone.

He's a rescue dog so it's hard to know why he does certain things. Was he invited up onto the couch and bed and then kicked off it? Poor little thing. If you ask really nicely, sometimes he comes back and lays with you again.

Unwind

Puppy Dog has been taught the command "Unwind". This is for when he has run around something - a tree for instance, and his leash is caught on it. We say "Unwind! Unwind!" and he usually understands that he has to retrace his steps to undo the damage.

Sometimes, though, Unwind doesn't cut it, especially if has has gone under a tree with low branches and completely tied himself up in knots, like he did outside the coffee shop this morning. His back left leg was trapped, pulled up along his side, the leash was curled all around him like Shibari rope bondage. He just stood there, perfectly still, looking up at me. I burst out laughing and ran to call Fluffy Bear out of the coffee shop to see it, but he somehow managed to disentangle himself while I was away.

Unwind can also sometimes be confusing for Puppy Dog. He isn't always sure which way he came around the object so, when he's trying to undo the leash, he makes things worse. This is how things were in the park today when he went around a wooden post. The more Fluffy Bear yelled "UNWIND" the more loops of leash snaked around the post. Fluffy Bear gave up, went up to the post and tried to pull the leash off it. Of course it snagged on something and he had to yank and yank until a thwock! of wood coming loose occurred simultaneous to a swish of leash coming off the top and, this being an extendable leash, a fssst! of leash retracting, full speed, into the handle. Fluffy Bear got a nice little jolt, I laughed my ass off and Puppy Dog, sensing the issue was resolved, gambolled off to sniff something or other.

Stuff Female People Like

2009-05-16T18:42:00.000-07:00

11. Receiving flowers

Yes, Female People genuinely do like getting flowers.

Why?

Well, flowers are:

pretty
a treat (assuming the sender obeys rule 2)
a surprise (especially if the sender obeys rule 1)
a sign the sender really cares (only if all rules are obeyed)
something that has been hyped by the media and the Female Person has bought into.

The rules of giving flowers

Don't drop any hint that you have/are about to/are thinking of buying flowers.
Don't be stingy. Three small tulips won't cut it. A single flower can pass, but only if it is a long-stemmed rose.
Don't buy and give, send. The Female Person loves to get flowers from the delivery guy, wonder for a moment who sent them, and open the card to find that it's you.
Don't buy on impulse, plan. Flowers bought at the grocery store or gas station do not count. Getting the flowers delivered at a time when you ought to know she won't be at the office will be an automatic deduction of points.
Do know what the Female Person likes and doesn't like. If you buy flowers she both hates and is allergic to, you're so screwed.
Do know what the flowers mean, especially if you are breaking rule 5. White lilies are for funerals, yellow roses are for friendship. Look up the rest, or ask the florist.
Rule 6 does not apply if you have followed Rule 5 and know that the Female Person likes a certain flower in spite of what it means.
Make it public. If you have a choice to send flowers to the Female Person's home or her work, send them to her work. She'll never admit it, but she wants everyone to see that someone thinks she is so special that they send a massive bunch of flowers. Be warned, if you choose to send the flowers to her work, you better make sure you follow Rule 2.
Let the professionals do it. If you are at the flower shop and you're asked if you'd like to choose the flowers, decline unless you are one of the 0.5% of men who actually knows what they are doing with flowers and definitely decline if you are one of the 7% of men who are color blind.
Add the vase. If possible, buy a vase too, so she doesn't have to scrabble around cutting stems, pulling off leaves and arranging the flowers. Make it easy for her.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 12.0

2009-05-16T14:24:00.000-07:00

How do you know you are an Ex-Employee?

You hang up your washing and it is all tracksuits and T-shirts
You automatically decline evites to charity events without even reading them
There's an indent shaped like your butt in the couch
You find yourself wanting to make cupcakes like Martha Stewart
You're suddenly as lot less fussy about which shirts need ironing
When one of your favorite TV shows has one mediocre episode, you wonder if you should cancel your Cable
You buy your latte with a double shot, drink half, take it home, top it up with milk, microwave it and congratulate yourself on economizing
You start to turn out the lights whenever you leave a room
You pack the dishwasher so tight you and your husband both have to lean on it to get the door closed
You take everything out of the old Nordstrom bag that was put aside to donate to charity. Doesn't mean you're gonna wear it, of course, you just have to accept that, these days, charity starts at home.

Quote Unquote

2009-05-16T14:22:00.001-07:00

"Hey! Blessings in disguise! What are you hiding?"

Stephen Colbert, The Colbert Report, Comedy Central, summing up my feelings towards bad things that you know happen for a reason, you just wish the sodding reason would hurry up and show itself.

Quote Unquote

2009-05-15T20:16:00.000-07:00

"I only drink diet soda. I'm hoping the preservatives will add some stability to my life."

Fisher, a character on Bones, FOX Channel

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 10.0

2009-05-15T12:34:00.000-07:00

My cold is like a distant relative that comes to stay and, enjoying the free room and board, just bloody well refuses to leave.

Yesterday I thought I was really getting over it. Then, last night, I started to get a really bad headache, then I got really hot and sweaty, then I got nauseous, then I threw up. Drinking Cranberry juice all day makes for psychadelic pink vomit... who knew?

I can't even remember the last time I threw up and, back then, it probably had something to do with alcohol. If you are drunk, at least you have the boozy glow to protect you from the horror of the feeling of throwing up.

And so today I am trying to take it easy again, but the kitchen doesn't clean itself, the trash is piling up and the dogs are shedding fur balls all over the house. So some washing up, some vaccuuming and some trash-lugging later, I finally got to hit the couch.

I guess I should try to do one useful thing today, so I've chosen to do my Excel contacts database. I need to go through my emails and Outlook contacts and extract the name of everyone who might possibly be able to help me or know someone who could.

I'm going to list:

Name
Company
Who the contact came from (if they are not someone I know personally)
Contact details
Date of my contacting them (you don't want to hit them up too often)
Notes of what happened when I contacted them
Date I should contact them next
Notes of what I want to do when I contact them next

So I'm going to sit in front of the mind-numbing trashy joy that is Bravo TV and get this done.

Or maybe I'll have a nap.

Quote Unquote

2009-05-15T12:28:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine works in the mobile industry. He saw a conference in his local area where he could go to network, promote his company's offering, etc., so he asked his boss if he could go. His boss said...

"What is Twitter and why should we care about it?"

True story.

I am Woman, but I ain't no frickin' Della

2009-05-14T21:10:00.001-07:00

Dell have decided to market to a new segment: Women.

So they've created a lovely new site called "Della" which talks about cute notebooks which can fit in your purse.

It also has helpful hints and tips, like "Seven Unexpected Ways a Netbook can Change Your Life" because women need to learn that "Once you get beyond how cute they are, you'll find that Netbooks can do a lot more than check your email."

What "more" I hear you ask? Check the stock portfolio? Run a small business from home? Create a presentation for the Board?

Nope.

Schedule mini meditation breaks for you throughout your busy day
Find recipes online
Watch online fitness videos
Map your running routes

Well, this is interesting. I've just gone back to the Della site and the article has already been changed. Looks like this shite is already hitting the fan, then.

The text has changed. Now there are apparently only 5 ways to use a Netbook and the content is more politically correct. But there are still other pages...

Ooh! Ooh! The Products page! You can customize your laptop and put a snazzy design on it! Because that way, you'll be the coolest Yummy Mummy at the Starbucks!

And there's an Accessory shop! I can get a laptop sleeve that matches each of my Juicy Couture tracksuits!

And of course, there's a Give page, because women who sit around at home all day like to give to charity so they can feel useful and superior at the same time. Look! It has Green tips, because we all know that housewives have bugger all to do so they get their knickers in a twist about the environment.

This is completely un-fecking-believable.

Let's see if this would be an acceptable prejudice if it was sexual-preference or race based...

The Dell site for gays... De-llite! As you log on there'd be some pumpin' tunes, a hot guy with his shirt off, an androgynous woman with short hair in a suit and lots of colors! Colors! Colors! There'd be a link to sign the petition for gay marriage and an Events page listing all the gay pride events accross the world. Laptops would come in either lavender or a rainbow design. And there'd be tips on how to fly under the radar when you visit a small town in a square state, how to get to see your life partner in hospital without being actually listed as family and how to behave at a BBQ with straight people.

Sound acceptable?

The Dell site for African Americans... Dellah! As you log on there'd be southern blues and Mammy would pop up and ask howya doin' chile. There'd be advice on how to search out black history, a map of towns that have the biggest Klu Klux Klan numbers (we ain't gonna holidayah theyah, Clarence!) and a tribute to Mr King. In fact, the strapline would probably be something like "He had a dream of freedom, and with Netbook we're making yours come true."

Sound acceptable?

Well neither is a pastel blue site that talks about recipes.

Whoever came up with this at Dell is a pillock.

Quote Unquote

2009-05-14T20:05:00.000-07:00

"The Swedish singer’s face is so rigid and mask like that the small child of a friend of mine burst into tears on her first close up to camera."

Everywhereventually, on the Eurovision 1st Semi-final

Hello from Puppy Dog

2009-05-14T19:37:00.000-07:00

Hello Mama's friends!

OMG I am sooooooo bored!

Mama and Dada are giving me two different pills in my peanut butter, so I am feeling a lot better.

I want to play!

And Dogette is staying with us this week, so I have a playmate!

But Mama and Dada won't let me. They only let us out into the garden for a little while, there have been NO walks, and Mama keeps asking me to go back to bed and "rest".

Because we don't have anything to do, and we're tired of chewing my toys, Dogette and I are starting to get a bit tetchy with each other. She actually had the cheek to tell me, when I was chewing my bunny that, if I moved my head to the side, I'd break through the toy skin faster! I told her it was my toy, thank you very much, and I know how to chew it and maybe I don't want to get through the skin faster because if I don't get to the stuffing straight away, the toy will last longer and she didn't think of that, did she, so there! She told me I was being a wiseass and I told her she was being a bitch and she said that she thought coming here was going to be like a mini-vacation with lots of tug of wars and ball chasing and growlyfighting and now I was just being so boring she might as well be at home because I was sore and sick and I couldn't move a lot. I told her that she shouldn't have bloody well bit me then!

There was a very, very quiet pause.

Then she said oh, hell NO, I didn't just say that and I said hell, yes, I totally did and what was she going to do about it and she said that she just might bite me again and I told her my Mama was right there and she'd probably send Dogette home. Dogette said that she'd be happy to go home where she had much better toys than I have. I told asked her if her stuff is so much better than mine, why does she always want to lie on my cushion and she said maybe it's because it smells of me and she started to cry and ran into the bedroom.

I felt really bad.

So I went into the bedroom, slowly, and walked up to her. First she turned her head away so I waited and lowered my head. Then she turned her head around a little way and I gave her nose a little lick and she gave me a little lick and then everything was OK again.

I do love her, but I also figured I better just make up with her because that bitch got fang, if you know what I mean.

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 9.0

2009-05-14T14:46:00.001-07:00

The cold virus really seems to be exiting from my body today, but I instinctively know that I should still be resting. But I can't.

I should be:

Putting on some washing
Sorting out all the emails I got after I left my job to make sure those people are all in my Contacts
Filing all the admin crap that has been piling up in the office
Researching what the fricking frack COBRA is
Unpacking the dishwasher
Cleaning the bathroom
Doing my UK tax return
Finishing off my It's the Economy Stupid job-hunting mind map
Reviewing my resume
Updating my resume on Monster
Checking out the Ladders site
Brushing the dogs
Dusting the coffee table
Creating an Excel spreadsheet of contacts, their companies, date of contact, notes, and when to ping them again
etc. etc. etc.

Instead I fart about playing Lexulous (Scrabble) on Facebook, I open a few pieces of mail, I write a note to myself to remember to do something...

So I do nothing particularly productive but, at the same time, I don't rest.

And so, I am finding a First World Solution to a First World Problem.

I have taken some of the cough medicine with codeine and I shall soon be completely comatose.

See you when nap time is over...

WTF?

2009-05-14T13:19:00.000-07:00

Why paint cats?

Why, indeed....

http://www.whypaintcats.com/

Memory Lane - Playing the little doll

2009-05-14T11:39:00.001-07:00

My sisters are much older than me and, when I was a little kid and had long hair, they used to like playing hairdresser with me, especially on Sunday mornings when we were all a bit bored.

I remember them standing, one on each side of me, plaiting my hair. When my Princess Leia hair do was complete, I was sooooo proud of it, and pranced around the house feeling the round plaits flap against my ears.

Thank God there's no photographic evidence!

Memory Lane - A Question of Time

2009-05-13T21:45:00.001-07:00

A funny little childhood memory popped into my head today, so I decided to start this series called Memory Lane.

I was about two months past turning four, and we were at a picnic. I was chatting to another adult - I don't remember who - telling them a story about something I did - I don't remember what.

"And when was this?" he asked me.

"Oh," I waved my hand and rolled my eyes, "it was long, long, loooooong ago when I was three."

I remember being annoyed and confused at why he started to laugh.

Wish I could charm men that easily these days....

Divided by a Common Language: Eurovision again

2009-05-13T21:00:00.000-07:00

So.... let's see how well Everywhereventually and I did with our scoring. Remember people in the UK can't vote for the UK, so we are leaving our home country out of our scoring.

I've put our top ten down below according to how points are awarded in Eurovision. Then I compare them to the songs that actually got through to the Final so we can see how accurate EE and I are. Don't hold your breath on that one.

Everywhereventually's Top Ten:

12 points to... Ukraine

10 points to... Albania

8 points to... Estonia

7 points to... Armenia

6 points to... Turkey

5 points to... Norway

4 points to... Moldova

3 points to... Greece

2 points to... Hungary

1 point to... France

My Top Ten:

Well of course, EE scored his out of 100 and I scored mine out of 10 so I have a bunch of stuff that's rated the same. So excuse me while I take the time to listen to some stuff again to rank the songs properly.... D'oh!

12 points to... Turkey

10 points to... Belgium

8 points to... Hungary

7 points to... Estonia

6 points to... Azerbaijan

5 points to... Norway

4 points to... Ireland

3 points to... Montenegro

2 points to... Denmark

1 point to... Armenia

So let's see if EE and my top picks even got into the Final. As you know, UK, Spain, Germany and France are automatically in the final, as is Russia, because they won last year.

We'll see what happens soon enough...

Well, actually, I won't see what happens, because it isn't broadcast here, which is annoying. Not even on BBC America. I'll have to wait till EE comes to visit and he brings the DVD.

Divided by a Common Language: Eurovision 4

2009-05-13T20:20:00.000-07:00

I am soooo behind on this. I think Eurovision is about to happen and I haven't finished my reviews yet. So, here goes.

Here are the reviews of the songs from the countries who automatically make it through to the final. You can find the songs on YouTube or eurovision.tv.

You can find posts which explain what the feck Eurovision is, and two posts reviewing the other songs, if you search under the "Divided by a Common Language" series of posts.

I have included the scores of my dear friend, Everywhereventually, a Eurovision aficionado. You can see his take on Eurovision and his reviews on the songs on his site, here.

France - S'il fallait le faire (If it had to be done)

The French language has a lot of words that end in soft vowel sounds, rather than hard consonant sounds. Therefore it is not a language conducive to pop songs. France also has a tradition of poetry to music rather than pop songs. Perhaps these two things explain why this is yet another tedious ballad from France as their entry.

Yawn.

Score: 4/10

EE Score: 86/100

Damn, now that I've listened to a French song my brain has started doing it's internal monologue in French and I am struggling to express myself in English. It will only take a minute or two for it to switch back. It's amazing how the brain can do that, when you know more than one language. Mine switches pretty easily - it just doesn't always switch in the right way. I remember taking my final exams in High School and, when I was in my German exam and I tried to translate a word into German, the French word would pop into my head, and vice versa.

Anyway, back to Eurovision.

Russia - Mamo

Russia is hosting this year and they obviously don't want to be doing it again next year because this song is just shit. A young girl with badly dyed black hair is singing as if she's in a death scene at the opera. It's a pop song, so why is she acting like she's going to die any moment?

Crap.

Score: 2/10

EE score: 6/100

Germany - Miss Kiss Kiss Bang

Upbeat big band. Interesting and fun. More America than Germany though... the secret at Eurovision is to do a pop song that is mainstream but still has a flavor - an instrument, a sound, a beat - of your country. This is nice, but gets point deducted for not evoking Germany in any way.

Score: 7/10

EE score: 71/100

UK - It's my Time

This suffers from the same lack of cultural reference as the German song. This is very Whitey Houston. The song has some flavors of Andrew Lloyd Webber, which I supposed could be iconically British. It's reasonably good, but there are other songs that are better.

Score: 7/10

EE score: 100/100 (perhaps a little partisan?)

Spain - La Noche es Para Mi (The Night is for Me)

At first I was going to level the same criticism at Spain re this song not having a national flavor, because it is more of a Middle Eastern beat. But then I remembered that Spain does have a strong North African experience, being very close to the African coat at certain points. This is a song which will definitely be played in all the Spanish clubs over the summer. It's pretty good, but it just doesn't grab me in any way. I much prefer Turkey's.

Score: 7/10

EE score: 66/100

So now you have my full two cents on this topic.

We'll soon see who wins!

Hello from Puppy Dog

2009-05-13T19:58:00.001-07:00

Hello Mama's friends

Mama is sick and so am I. Dogette has fangs, and she sure knows how to use 'em. She sunk hers into my shoulder pretty good.

Mama gave me medicine and put hot compresses on me, so I felt better yesterday and Dogette and I ran around and played a bit.

That was a BIG mistake.

When I woke up this morning I felt doggone awful. I was really sore and it hurt to put my weight on my front left leg. I've spent all day on my cushion and Dogette is really irritated with me because she's bored out of her mind. She went into my den and took out some toys to chew, but she said it got old pretty quickly.

Then I heard Mama call the vet and then Dada went out and, when he came back, he gave me a new pill. They think I don't know when there's a pill inside the blob of peanut butter, but I do. I just take them because I am a good boy.

I don't know what that pill was, but my shoulder hurts less. And I am also suddenly reeeeally tired. So I am sorry to be rude, but I am going to go back to my cushion and have another nap.

Yawn.

Night night.

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 9.0

2009-05-13T19:26:00.000-07:00

Just like your car stops making that knocking sound as soon as you drive it to the mechanic, so my cold started clearing up as soon as I went to the Doctor. I still got a prescription for some killer cough medicine, which knocked me out cold on the couch this afternoon. Bliss.

Now that the prospect of losing medical insurance looms large, I booked a full physical. So I was poked and prodded and stuck with needles and weighed and measured and offered all sorts of goodies, like Chantix to quit smoking. This is the great part of the American healthcare system - that you can get some reeeeeeally good drugs.

But, as I have now lost my job, which had excellent health insurance, I am no longer in the little fluffy coccoon where you get the benefit of the best of American healthcare. As I sat in the waiting room - saving the other people from my germs by sporting a mask that made me look like Donald Duck - I saw two people come in who don't have my level of cover.

The first was a young man who struggled to pay an $18 copay. He had some cash, and put $3 on a debit card. He was clearly uncomfortable, embarrassed in front of the overly perky Receptionist.

The second was an older woman who was told that neither Medicare nor her AARP insurance covered the procedure she was there for. She was clearly annoyed and upset.

And I am about to join these ranks.

This really isn't the best way to get success and performance out of the population of the US.

I am going try and use this as another incentive to get a new job - quickly.

Being uninsured is not an option.

The Doctor also told me about a book that takes a different approach to quitting smoking - the Easyway Method by Alan Carr.

Apparently he talks about seeing becoming non-smoker as a new freedom, rather than something that has to be given up or overcome.

He also says that the first cigarette you want to have after quitting shouldn't just be seen as "one little slip" because, as soon as you smoke it, you become a smoker again. So the first cigarette is:

All the bad health effects you'll have for the rest of your life
The money you'll spend on cigarettes the rest of your life.

So that first cigarette means lots of sickness and $10,000.

It's a good way to look at things.

Divided by a Common Language

2009-05-13T19:13:00.001-07:00

BBC News America is an abomination. If you can find BBC World News on your local PBS channel here in the US, watch that instead.

BBC News America is BBC News dumbed down because some cretin clearly thinks that the existence of Fox News means all Americans are stupid.

Quote from tonight's news bulletin:

"Scientists are saying that the polar ice caps could melt in as little as not twenty, not ten but five years. That's only five Memorial Days away."

This is an insult to the BBC, to the UK and to Americans. On behalf of the UK, I'd like to apologize to all Americans for the imbecilic editor who is responsible for this drivel. Mr Rome Hartman, stand up and take a bow, you condescending twit.

Quote Unquote

2009-05-12T17:48:00.001-07:00

Bill is on a Lost in Translation trip in Japan.

He committed the cardinal foreigner sin and ordered a foodstuff that is traditional in your home country but not in the one you're visiting.

He ordered bacon.

He told me that, when it came he took one look at it's color and coined a new phrase:

"I had to call it as I saw it - it was gray-con."

United by a Common Laziness

2009-05-12T11:19:00.000-07:00

I felt better yesterday - like my cold was healing - so I did stuff. It was a classic mistake - getting active before you've actually healed. We all go back to work just that one day too early, right?

And so today I feel as if a fallen angel with a scat fetish has taken a big dump on my soul.

Leave it to Fluffy Bear to cheer me up. He told me that foreign guests in quarantined with Swine Flu - sorry, "A(H1N1) virus" - in the hotel in Hong Kong got gifts from their respective consulates.

Because there was a guy who had a birthday, the French consulate sent Champagne, wine, food and even a French caterer to dish up something every day rather than have their citizens suffer the meals provided by the Hong Kong government Health Department.

By contrast:

Other consulates have not had the budget to match France's treatment of its 14 nationals.

Dale Kreisher, a spokesman for the US consulate, said it had provided magazines and playing cards to the nine US citizens being held in quarantine.

The consulate was taking cash donations from staff so it could provide some "comfort foods" for those trapped.

A spokesman for the British Consul-General said they had provided fruit, magazines and books donated by consular staff to the 26 British nationals held in the hotel.

Reported on Yahoo News, Tuesday May 5, 2009

Yeap, you gotta hand it to the French. They know the value of quality of life.

Vive La France!

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 8.0

2009-05-12T07:45:00.000-07:00

Still sick.

The cold has moved from my chest up into my nose, which is now streaming like a mini-tsunami.

If I think back to Shirley MacLaine's theory - which I have probably misquoted, but bear with me here - that this is dis-ease, then I am a little confused. With the coughing and sore throat, I understand that perhaps I had something to get off my chest, what with being laid off last week. But now I have something to get out of my nose?

OK, OK, I shouldn't always mock the tree-hugging Hippie crap. There is something to a holistic view of the body, of the world.

So if my nose is streaming, maybe I have something that I need to let go of out of my head.

(Sidenote: Watching Sesame Street about penguins. "There's no business like snow business" - LOL! Waaay better than the IQ-lowering morning shows.)

OK, so what do I need to get out of my head?

(Hang on, I have to sing the Penguin song with Elmo...)

I'm back. I shouldn't have tried to sing.

Anyway...

My head, my head... what do I need to get out of my head?

I guess... negative thoughts? Seems too obvious, really. OK let's get them out there:

It will take too long for FBear and I to find our next jobs and we'll run out of savings
FBear and I won't find jobs in the same city
I won't find a job
I'll have to work for a lot less money
I won't have the energy to look for a job

OK, enough. Because I actually don't believe any of this. We've been through way worse before (take a bow for the nice ladies and gentlemen, DotComBubbleBurst!) and we came out the other side with better jobs in a better place. We're both better qualified, more savvy and still flexible about what we do and where we live. We really are going to be just fine.

So.... Maybe I need to stop over-thinking this and accept I just have a cold.

OK. I can do that.

So I'm cooking up a brew. There's fresh grated ginger and fresh squeezed organic lemon juice and a fresh cinnamon stick. Unfortunately I forgot to get honey so I had to carve some crystallized New Zealand stuff out of an old jar, but let's not be too fussy.

It's all stewing in water on the stove and I am enjoying thinking "Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble" when I stir it. I am not actually saying it out loud, because I still sound like the bastard child of Kathleen Turner and James Earl Jones.

So never mind the excessive introspection, it's time to get some more witches brew, turn up the volume on Curious George and lay back on the couch.

Aaaaaaah....

Hello from Puppy Dog

2009-05-11T18:07:00.000-07:00

Hello Mama's friends...

Sniff!

I am sorry but this is going to be short post today.

Dogette bit me! SHE BIT ME!

Talk about a bad house guest!

We were in the kitchen and Dada was going to give us treats and I stepped in front of her and next thing I know - FANG BANG!

I am a gentleman so of course I didn't snap back.

But it took Mama and Dada hours and hours and hours to find my open wound (you just can't get the staff these days!) and then they put sticky stuff on it.

Today it started to get very sore and I was moving very slowly.

Then Mama took me to the man who pokes me. He's a nice man and he smells of lots of other dogs but - goddammit! - he always pokes me!

He made a lady shave my fur off... AGAIN! Then I could smell my boo boo and the ooze coming out of it. But he also gave Mama pills which she gave me with peanut butter and I feel a little bit better.

But I'm still sulking.

And I am NOT talking to Dogette.

Bitch.

Too tired and sore for licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog

Quote Unquote

2009-05-11T14:07:00.000-07:00

"Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm."

Winston Churchill

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 7.1

2009-05-11T14:00:00.001-07:00

Fluffy Bear is also being given a package by his company, by mutual agreement. This process started long before there was any inkling that I'd be laid off, but it finally seems to be moving forward.

This is a very good thing for Fluffy Bear and now frees him up to do something really cool in an industry where he has an excellent reputation, a huge amount of knowledge and an even bigger mountain of contacts.

Interesting that we are both coming free at the same time....

Does this mean some kind of new start is in the air?

A new city?

A new country?

We've been here two and a half years - it's been nice but, if a new adventure is around the corner, I say LET"S GO!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOO.

This could be fun!

Puppy Dog moments

2009-05-11T10:15:00.001-07:00

I come out of the bathroom into the dining room. I stop.

Dogette and Puppy Dog freeze.

They both look up at me, bodies quivering, tails wagging.

The carcass of a dead, plushy bunny is between them, one end in each of their jaws.

I look at them, they look at me.

I move into the kitchen.

They start to growl at each other, and the game is on again.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 7.0

2009-05-11T08:35:00.000-07:00

Somewhere in my lymph glands the right weapon to attack this particular virus was found and Operation Kill Cold was launched. No doubt the battles were fierce and bloody - I don't know for sure, I was asleep. But the green splooge that is being hacked up means that the war is won!

It's a sign.

Time to quit whining.

Time to be pro-ACTIVE!

[Insert fanfare here]

The future career search will be divided into two workstreams:

It's the Economy Stupid!
Climb Every Mountain

The first is about getting that next job immediately. Get the paycheck, make sure the job is bearable, that's about it.

The second is about taking some time to think about what I really want, what my ideal job would be and how I might make it happen.

The end result will probably be something that sits somewhere in the middle of those two - a job I get reasonably quickly that I pretty much like.

And so it's time to mindmap the personal network, research the organizations, start brushing up the resume.

I didn't tell you before but I actually had an interview a few days after I got canned, which was fantastic. I felt great being immediately put forward for a role by a colleague, I enjoyed meeting the managers at the other firm, and it was nice to be reminded that there is a whole world out there ripe for exploration.

The role didn't pan out but that wasn't because of me - it's because the hiring firm chose someone put forward by another vendor. I've still met those guys and had some interview practice and it's all good.

I have also decided that having this vile cold is a great opportunity to detox from nicotine.

Goddamn - when did I become so annoyingly positive?

Maybe I need me some Despondex.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 6.0

2009-05-10T21:31:00.000-07:00

Some dear friends of ours came around for brunch today. Let's call them Jack and Jill.

Jill has just finished a contract and so, like me, is home during the day now, like me.

We were joking about our demise....

We've gone from Double Income, No Kids to Single Income No Kids.

From DINK... To SINK

Does that mean that, because they were here having brunch, that we were SYNCHING while we were SINKing?

Yeah, yeah, I know, I need to up my meds.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 5.1

2009-05-10T12:06:00.001-07:00

After reading this post, you are going to know why I named my Blog the way I did.

So I'm sitting in the car, sore throat, tight chest, coughing, waiting for Fluffy Bear to pick up some takeout. And I start thinking about a Shirley MacLaine book I read years and years and years and years ago. I can't remember what it was called.

Anyway, she spoke about how disease is really dis-ease and how everything, ever person, every experience we bring into our lives is no accident - we brought it to ourselves because we need it, because we have something to learn from it.

In other words, if you are a dancer and you sprain your ankle, maybe you really didn't want to dance the lead and so you're giving yourself a way out.

So it follows that dis-ease can be healed by facing that will is putting us ill at ease.

So I began to think... my throat is sore, my chest hurts. Maybe I have something to say, someting to literally get off my chest.

And so I started to say it, all alone, there in the car.

"It shouldn't have been me."

I said it again and again and again and again. I emphasized different words. I backed up what I was saying with different thoughts:

It shouldn't have been me that got canned - [X person] is way crappier at his job

It shouldn't have been me - I've tried to work really hard to deliver results

It shouldn't have been me - I had just started to find a good work-life balance

It shouldn't have been me - what did I do wrong?

But the emotions didn't really surface. I didn't start to cry or get angry. I just felt removed from it all. Numb.

The only thing that happened was that this strange woman with a pudding bowl haircut walked past the car and raised both arms to wave at me. I don't know who she was. I am not sure she knew who I was. She didn't smile. It was very strange.

And I'm still getting stuff off my chest - and it's very, very gloopy.

Thanks a lot, Shirley MacLaine.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 5.0

2009-05-09T21:25:00.000-07:00

Someone, somewhere, dared to breathe out their revolting germs and, immune system compromised by stress, I caught their cold.

And so.... If I take a deep breath I pay homage to Darth Vader, if I talk it conjures up Patty and Selma Bouvier and if you had to desribe my dress style you'd say I'm dolled up like Ugly Betty from a parallel universe where she lives in a trailer park,doesn't brush her hair and wears her food-stained gown all day. And every few minutes my chest contracts, my throat heaves and I spew out something that should only ever be a special effect in a horror film.

At moments like these, the Couch is the best place to be. Cable TV offers endless entertainment options, you can slip into a little nap whenever you want, and there's a convenient coffee table to hold all the medicine, tissues, water, hot tea, orange juice, hot water bottle.

So no research or job sites or outplacement firms today.

Just couch.

And coughing.

And asking Fluffy Bear to bring me things. Every cloud... (hehe)

He said, She said

2009-05-08T23:10:00.000-07:00

They were watching the Grey's Anatomy big wedding finale. Izzie was berating Shepherd about writing his vows for Meredith and told him that it was very important because his future wife would remember what he said for the rest of her life.

She said: "I have no memory of what we said to each other on our wedding day!"

He said: "I remember. I'm sure you said you'd obey."

She laughed till she cried.

Hello from Puppy Dog

2009-05-08T22:47:00.000-07:00

Hello Mama's Friends!

My girlfriend, Dogette, is coming to day tomorrow! Her daddy has to go away and so she's coming to live with me!

We are going to have such fun, like we always do:

When Mama gives us a bone each, we'll both drop ours, go over the other's and fight over it

When Dada is on a work conference call, we'll have growly fights

We'll pull in different directions whenever we get taken for a walk

We'll both wolf down our dinner and then run to see if the other one has any food left we can steal

We'll both jump up on the bed in the morning and take over all the space so Mama and Dada end up curled in little balls

We'll run round and round the garden and bark until Mama has to come outside and tell us to shush

Even though we'd normally be well behaved when getting treats, because there are two of us we'll almost bite off Mama's fingers when she gives them to us

We'll both refuse to settle down and go to sleep

We'll both bark and growl at the Postman, like a pack of rabid wolves

It's gonna be off the hook, BABY!

Diary of an Ex-Employee: Cube Feedback

2009-05-08T22:29:00.000-07:00

In Diary of an Ex-Employee Day 3.0 I described the various fantasies I'd had about decorating my cube after I was canned from my job, and I asked for other ideas.

Thanks to everyone who's sending feedback!

More ideas for how I should have left my cube after I was canned:

Fake bullet holes

Fake blood spatter

A bottle of red wine, a wine glass, a bowl of peanuts

Deck chair, a bottle of sunscreen, a beach towel, sunglasses, a beach ball

Any more ideas? Answer in the comments or mail me at ittybittycrazy@gmail.com.

Puppy Dog goes Commando

2009-05-08T21:52:00.000-07:00

Today we went to hang out with Bill and Joe at our local haunt.

We decided to take Puppy Dog along with us because the pub lets people slip doggies in for a little bit sometimes and he hadn't had much fun today.

So we take him inside and get him into a corner behind our table. He's excited at first, sniffing things, saying hello to people, but eventually he lies down.

So we drink and we chat and we laugh and then I look down and see that Puppy Dog has crawled under my seat and is lying on the floor, head sticking out into the bar area a bit, but lying still.

Then I keep watching and I see that he is starting to sneak forward, stomach flat on the floor, commando-style, trying to get further towards the other people and their tasty, tasty food.

He's moving reeeeeeally slowly, inch by inch.

"I can see you!" I tell him softly.

He stands up, sighs, and licks my hand, defeated, saying sorry.

He's fecking hilarious.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Feedback

2009-05-08T18:42:00.001-07:00

Various ideas are coming in about what I should have done to my cube when I left (see Day 3.0).

Fluffy Bear says I should have covered my desk in Plushy Guts, seeing as they ripped mine out...

You got any thoughts on what I should have left in my cube? Let me know in the Comments!

Couch Potato: Live Long and Prosper

2009-05-08T18:17:00.001-07:00

Yes, Fluffy Bear dragged me to see the new Star Trek movie last night.

It was preview night so all the die hard fans were out.

We were in line in front of a very cute girl with green skin. She was, I am told, an Orion Slave Girl.

She was kinda pissed because no one else in the very long line was dressed up. All the dress up fans had gone to the earlier show and, as they walked out, we saw:

An African American in a Star Trek uniform with red shirt

A female Vulcan in a gold sequinned dress

A very cute girl in a very short red Star Trek dress

People who had dressed normally but added Spock ears

The male to female ratio in the line was very favorable to my sex, until you looked more closely and saw the calibre of the men in question. Yes it was geeksville.

The entire spectrum was there, from the reasonably OK looking geek who seems like a viable mate he opens his mouth, through the kiddie-faced-socially-inept geek all the way to the long-greasy-haired-pot-bellied-beared-and-slightly-sweaty-smelling geek.

Still, it was fun to see a line for the Men's toilets and none for the women's. Finally!

We got good seats, but weren't prepared for the Fully Loaded Aspergers Experience that awaited us. Behind us sat two young men who started the evening with the geek version of penis comparison - discussing obscure science fiction movies and seeing who can remember particular scenes/facts better. During the main feature, they felt it was very important to give each other the benefit of an instant review of the the Director's choices. Thank God the sound was turned up pretty loud or I think someone would have organized a geek posse to take them down with a Vulcan Nerve Pinch.

The audience was very enthusiastic, whooping at the previews for Transformers and Terminator, booing at Angels and Demons and snorting derisively at G.I. Joe. The start of Star Trek itself was drowned in "woooos" and clapping. The appearance of Leonard Nimo was cheered as was - encouragingly - Simon Pegg. It was all very entertaining.

Loyal fans are hard to please. They know everything about how things were set up and why, and the slightest disloyalty, pandering or evidence of Director Hubris (e.g. "re-imagineering") is considered a crime punishable by Phasers set to Kill.

Everyone seemed very happy, which was a relief, not least of all because it meant I went home with an ecstatic Fluffy Bear, rather than one who would explain to me, for the next three days, all the things that were wrong, and why.

And, Simon Pegg was funny.

He he he.

Funny Moments with Puppy Dog

2009-05-08T16:45:00.000-07:00

I wake up this morning and roll over. Puppy Dog is doing the same, on his back, legs in the air, moving his butt from side to side, airing his junk and streeeetching out. Great to start the day with a laugh!

Last night we got home late from seeing the new Star Trek movie and both lay on the bed with Puppy Dog between us. He had his new rubber ball in his mouth. It's bigger than a tennis ball and won't break or squish down much when he chews it, so he ends up constantly moving it around in his mouth, catching and recatching it in his jaws, while he pants through his nose. He sounds like Darth Vader.

If Puppy Dog lies on the bed, like a Sphinx, and wags his tail, the end of it, which curls over like a question mark, tickles my feet.

Puppy Dog doesn't just lick, he nibbles Fluffy Bear's ear. Hearing a 6ft 5, 260 pound man squeal with laughter is delightful.

If you call Puppy Dog over to you, don't bend over, because he comes running and jumps up, head-butting you in the chin.

Puppy Dog has a special spot - there's one on each side of his neck. There must be glands there or a pleasure centre or something because, if I scratch it, he bends his head to the side and pushes his muzzle forward, stretching his lips out. I call it "Fish Face." If I give him Fish Face, his corresponding back leg goes crazy and, if he's standing up, he collapses to the ground. If I need to calm him down, I bring out Fish Face.

He knows where his balls are hidden. If we take one away from him and put it up on a shelf, he knows it's there, even days later. So there you are, walking through the house, and Puppy Dog is standing in the kitchen, staring at the top of the refrigerator because he's bored and he wants his ball and it's up there and he's waiting for you to get it down and play.

Puppy Dog points. You'll be walking through the park and he smells his nemesis, Squirrel. He freezes, he lifts one leg, he shakes from head to toe. It's hilarious.

Puppy Dog slips and slides on our wooden floors. Fluffy Bear is, as I type, pioneering the Soft Ball Throw from the couch. In the past, we've thrown the ball as hard as possible, so it bounces off the bedroom door or the wall and he gets to jump this way and that to follow it. The Soft Ball Throw, however, lets him catch it in the middle of the dining room, and he then goes sliding into the wall. Yes, it's kinda mean, but it's funny.

The only thing meaner than the Soft Ball Throw is the Double Ball Throw. This was pioneered by a friend, Tony, who threw - you guess it - two tennis balls at the same time and watched Puppy Dog try to catch one, then the other, then subdue them one by one with some good chewing, then fit them both in his mouth before prancing back, triumphant, with his captured prey.

Ah, DOG is love.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 4.0

2009-05-08T10:06:00.000-07:00

Today began with housework.

Might as well get used to it - the Cleaner (she's amazing) is going to have to go. I unpacked the dishwasher, put newly dirtied stuff into it, washed up the stuff that shouldn't go in there, gathered up glasses and cups that were sitting around the house... sound boring and mundane? It was.

I also put empty cans of Canada Dry soda water in the recycling pile. Will have to say goodbye to that - tap water from now on.

I know, I know, I am sure you think I am being a Petty Pouty Princess. Kazillions of people clean their own houses. But, you see, that's not the point.

I call it the Princess and the Pea syndrome.

It doesn't matter if you are rich or poor, male of female, celebrity or nobody. Unwanted change hurts.

A few days ago, an e-friend (someone I only know online) posted a link to this article about a TARP wife (spouse of a bailed out banking CEO) with the comment "Oh Boo Hoo!" I know it's easy to deride those who seem more fortunate (a.k.a. rich) than us when they fall on hard times. "Now you bloody well know what it feels like for the rest of us" is the general way of thinking.

But - and I hate to break it to you - no, they don'tknow what it feels like to be you. No one knows your particular pain, challenges, triumphs. And - by the same token - you shouldn't presume to know theirs.

We all live our own lives, go through our own experiences, but empathy comes from what we have in common - our shared basic emotions, fears, joys.

TARP Wife has to try to continue to be strong, to look like everything is OK so that she can remain part of her social set, or she'd be ousted and alone = Fear of being rejected from the tribe

TARP Wife wonders if she is going to lose people, people that she loves, that she saw every day. Will they stay in touch now opportunities for contact aren't so convenient? = Sadness at the thought of missing people you care about

TARP Wife is worried that her life will change, that she will have to more into new territory she doesn't know how to navigate = Fear of the of unknown

TARP Wife knows that doing new things, in new ways, is going to be hard. She's wondering if she can handle this - can she be strong enough? = Basic insecurities

TARP Wife still goes to the charity events, but cannot contribute like before, which is humiliating = Embarrassment in front of peers

TARP Wife isn't sure how bad this is all going to get. She didn't see this coming so who knows what else lies in wait, growling low and threatening in the dark? Is something more coming? How much is coming? Will it all add up to so much that it takes her down, and she never finds a way back to this place, this life that she worked so hard to build? No insurance policy covers this! = Fear of losing everything you worked so hard for

No, I'm not a TARP Wife. But I guess losing a well-paid white collar job makes me TARP Wife Ultra Lite.

And so, yes, I hate doing housework. Not only because I have a low disgust threshold and a high physical-activity-laziness quotient, but because it's a sign that things have changed, things are less sure, adjustments and compromises will have to be made.

And it's scary.

And it's sad.

And it sucks.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 3.0

2009-05-07T16:23:00.001-07:00

Today was the day of:

Last journey into the office
Clearing the desk
Farewell lunch with colleagues
Final handover with boss

Last journey into the office

The journey into work was a little surreal.

First, there was a car in front of me that had been parked under a cherry blossom last night. There were fallen petals all over it that kept flying off towards me. It was like a parade of confetti celebrating my final return to this workplace.

Second, the Gods of radio were sending me messges with every song that was played. Isn't it funny how, in times of high emotion, all songs seem to be about you?

It's the end of the world as we know (and I feel fine) - R.E.M.
Pale Shelter (what they gave me - I thought my job was safe) - Tears for Fears
One way or Another (I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha) - Blondie

Third, when I arrived at the garage to park, my first Nemesis at this job was in front of me. She is a really difficult woman, always poker faced - actually, always sour faced - and any meeting with her was an ordeal.

Thank God I changed roles and didn't have to deal with her anymore but, whenever I did see her, I would kill with kindness. I'd raise my voice three octaves and give her my best Californian Happy Girl greeting, with a Hollywood smile. She'd usually ignore me. Today, though - on my last day - she smiled at me as I got out of the elevator. I was a small, tortured upturn of the corners of the mouth but, what the hell, it counts.

Clearing the desk

Clearing the desk went pretty quickly, not least because I was running late and only had twenty minutes to do it before I had to be at the lunch. I ended up with a carry on luggage case full of crap - damn, I need to learn to keep my life at home!

I thought long and hard about what to do with my cube. Here are some of the ideas I had:

Cover the cube in fake spiderwebs
Buy a bunch of red roses and leave them on my desk to die, black petals dropping off onto the desk

Cover the cube with those awful inspirational posters like this

Cover the cube with mock inspirational pictures like this

Leave everything the way it was with plans, diagrams, to do lists all over the place, with a blow up doll in my seat

This is all FANTASY, you understand. I didn't do anything on my way out.

The Farewell lunch

There were about 20 people, which was very flattering. I've worked with some really cool people and there are a few that I genuinely will keep in contact with.

I found it interesting that no-one from my new team came - it was all people from my previous team, and even my first manager, who has moved on to a totally different group.

Some people had genuinely good advice to share, and others made offers to connect me to people they knew in other companies.

Still others had to get an explanation of the subject line of my goodbye email "So long, and thanks for all the fish." You have to take a deep breath and remember to respect cultural differences at moments like that.

But, really, they're a good bunch.

I had to leave to go to my handover meeting with my boss, but it looked like they were in the bar for the long haul. I got a text at 5:30pm to tell me they were still going. It makes me feel a little happy that my leaving can drive my ex-colleagues to drink.

Final Handover with Boss

The Gods of radio were on form again. The last song I heard before arriving at my boss' building was Harden my Heart:

I'm gonna harden my heart
I'm gonna swallow my tears
I'm gonna turn and lea-heave you-hoo here....

My boss is a very nice man, and I genuinely don't think that he wanted things to turn out this way. On the other hand, a nagging voice in my head tells me he didn't fight hard enough for me. There are other sub-departments in our group where no-one has left so their manager obviously found a way to keep them.

Anyway, I handed over the PC, the company credit card, the parking pass, etc.

I started to go through my work and who needed to do what, but he really didn't seem to give a crap about that, telling me I needed to concentrate on my next steps, bla bla bla. Isn't it nice when you're leaving nobody cares that the work you're doing is going to stop?

Life lesson: Make sure you get on projects which are high visibility and you have knowledge that everyone needs to keep.

He said that I'd handled the exit meeting the other day very well and he was proud of me. I guess that's a compliment although it felt a little fatherly.

And so we said goodbye and that was that.

I wasn't particularly sad leaving and driving home for the final time. I guess if I had thought ahead I'd have loaded up my iPod with "I will Survive" and sung it at the top of my voice, probably intermittently out of tune.

It was pissing with rain and there was a lot of traffic, which was a pity, because what I would have liked to have done was to drive fast and loose and stupid, singing to 80s hits, wee wee wee wee all the way home.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 2.2

2009-05-06T12:36:00.001-07:00

The reaction of friends to the new Ex-Employee status is just as interesting as the reaction of colleagues (see Day 2.0). The emphasis here is more on moral support, which is just as needed as network contacts, but some are offering to forward my resume too, which is fantastic.

Being a modern woman, I announced my new status on Facebook - where else?

Here are the reactions I got:

Some friends expressed dismay

Some friends sent encouraging messages
Some friends called me from many timezones away to see if I was OK

Some friends reassured me with news of others in the same boat i.e. I am not alone

Some friends offered a shoulder to cry on in an appropriate setting i.e. somewhere that serves alcohol

Some friends offered distractions which I can now indulge in out of the 925 e.g. dog walks, lunch, etc.

Some friends offered sage advice, borne out of having been there themselves

And some friends brought round some of their Xanax stash.

I say this without sarcasm or irony.

I am blessed with wonderful friends.

Right now, I especially love Xanax Man.

Aaaaaah... All is well with the world...

How long before this stuff becomes addictive? He said that after one month I gotta start paying him the way only a lady can...

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 2.1

2009-05-06T11:38:00.000-07:00

I have joined the ranks of the non-925ers.

Today I went to an 8:30 yoga class.

No executive women prancing in to the locker room in high heels with their gym kit in a designer holdall. No 40ish balding men pushing themselves harder than they should, making ooomph noises on the weight machines.

Nope.

Housewives and retirees.

For the men especially, clothing was far, far less trendy. See the older gentleman in the light grey, loose tracksuit pants, waistband just under his nipples, bottom of the legs tucked into his socks.

For the women, hair was far more messy. See the two women with the flyaway, uncombed, hair, expensive defrizzing sprays clearly no longer on the shopping list.

The atmosphere was wonderful - completely different to the worker bee gym hours.

Voices were lower, movements were slower, this was not a place for stress. Also, people clearly knew each other, chatting and catching up, waving greetings as they laid their mats out.

The class was soft, stretchy, sweet and destressing.

Purrrrrrrrrrrrrfect.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 2.0

2009-05-06T09:51:00.000-07:00

Ah yes, the Seven Stages of Grief.

Shock stage: Initial paralysis at hearing the bad news.

The meeting request came at 7:25 for a face to face session at 8:30. I was at the gym being punished by my personal trainer, Silent Evil, so was blissfully unaware of the shitstorm brewing. When I got home I saw the invite, contacted my boss, and the meeting was rescheduled for later in the afternoon. I suspected, but I didn't quite get it.

All through the day the instant messages and emails were flying. Jokes in the office like "How you doing?" answered with "Well, I'm still here." I kept my head down and worked like crazy. I still didn't get it.

I went to the meeting room for the 3pm session. It was an office, far away from where my colleagues sit. Hmmm, I thought, why aren't my boss and I just meeting in his office? I might have been starting to get it.

And then, the meeting itself. The HR Drone was there. Ah, now I get it.

My poor, sweet boss practically read from a script, talking about economic conditions and streamlining. I didn't question him on anything - it clearly wasn't a very fun moment for him.

The HR Drone - who I had clashed with in the past - warning to all, never piss off HR - said there was a pack of information for me and I could take it home and ask questions later, or he could go through it. Fuck you, I thought, I'm not making this easy for you. "Let's go through it," I said, and prided myself on making as much eye contact with him as possible as he listed the various information. He broke eye contact a bunch of times - each moment he had to look away was a small, petty triumph for me.

Denial stage: Trying to avoid the inevitable.

As HR Drone came to the end of his schpiel, he said that, of course, if I have any questions I can save them for later when I've had time to digest it all, and I can call him at any time, and gave me his card. Nice try on steering me to let you off easy, I thought. You damn fecking right I have questions.

"I'd like to know," I said, "about the wider context of this decision. My question is - Why me?"

HR Drone opened his mouth to spout some scripted BS but I cut him off.

"I actually want [My boss] to answer that," I said.

My boss explained that, with the pending department reorganization, they had mapped out the new requirements, looked at the skills available and found that there were duplicates.

Color me crazy, but I do believe this, to some degree. The company has a lot of reorgnizations and my upper management must have considered everyone they have accross the globe. And the skills track that I have been on - Six Sigma and Project Management - is a combination of (a) a skillset that hasn't really found a lot of buy-in in the organization and (b) a skillset where there are a lot of people more qualified and experienced at it than me. So I guess it makes sense, really.

Anger stage: Frustrated outpouring of bottled-up emotion.

I didn't really get angry in the meeting. But I know that the 7 stages aren't linear and I sure as hell am feeling some of that today.

They said on the news that just over 1,000 people got canned in my neck of the woods. Considering the number of employees of my firm in this area, that's only 4%. How the hell did I end up being one of the 4% that is considered Surplus to Requirements? I should be in the top 4% of performers, Goddammit!

First, anger turned inward on myself.

Should I have worked harder, longer hours? Did I get sucked into the corporate BS that told us we should "collaborate" by sharing the credit for a project with a colleague instead of just taking it over and making it my own? Should I not have worn amusing T-shirts, made sure I had makeup on every day? Should I have searched high and wide for a meaningful project and then muscled my way onto it? Should I not have emailed an question to the CIO? Should I have not taken work time to go for medical appointments?

Second, anger directed at other people.

Is there anyone else in my group that got canned too? Or is it just me? I mean - come on! - there are some people that are not as good at their jobs as I am. Did I seriously get shafted and not them?

What about all the people who stiffed me? What about the guy who bitched in a meeting in front of my boss and all my colleagues that I had contacted one of his stakeholders, when my boss had told me to? What about the guy that blamed me for doing a project that had some work in it that overlapped with his, because he believed that his team owned this area, and my boss believed we owned that area, and they just weren't talking to each other? What about that HR Drone I once shat on by email because he chastised me and cc'd my boss? What about the guy who just didn't do what he was asked to do and, when I asked my boss for help handling him, I was told that I should learn to improve my impact and influence over others?

So now I'm thinking, will I really miss these people?

No, but they were in the minority. There were some really cool colleagues there.

But, sadly, the minority is often the most vocal. Did their voices stack against me, blacken my dance card? Can I blame them for this?

Bargaining stage: Seeking in vain for a way out.

Bargain attempt 1: I was told that my network access was going to be cut off later that day. I asked how I could look for other internal jobs when I had no network access. Sorry, HR Drone told me, usually people are given time to do that but, because of the large cuts today and the fact that there really are no open positions, network access is being cut off this time.

Bargain attempt 2: I asked whether, in the new organization that was being planned, there were any posts that weren't filled. There were none, HR Drone said very firmly, and there was no headcount available in the entire extended department.

Depression stage: Final realization of the inevitable.

I actually got a bit pissed off at myself. After holding eye contact with HR Drone throughout his scripted monologue about the GetTheFeckOut Information Packet, I suddenly started to tear up. I really didn't want to cry.

But then I thought, What the hell. Men hate it when women cry so I shouldn't try to disguise it too much. Let them feel uncomfortable.

But the final straw was my boss trying to say a little something personal at the end about his regret. And the sad thing is that I really did enjoy working for him. The third manager in less than 2 years at the company, he was finally someone who seemed to have my best interests at heart and wanted me to progress and do well.

But he obviously hadn't fought hard enough to keep me, and that made me sad. It still does.

Testing stage: Seeking realistic solutions.

Having only 12 minutes of network access left, I stayed in the building and sent a message to my team and closest colleagues explaining that I was leaving. I asked them outright for help with contacts and their network.

It's very interesting the reactions you get. Your suspicions about who will become part of your business network, who will remain an acquaintance, who will become a friend and who'll you never speak to, hear from or miss are pretty much confirmed within half an hour of the email going out.

Some don't email you at all. Nuff said.

Some send platitudes about hoping the economy improves and don't include personal emails. So long.

Some send personal information with a vague promise to stay in touch, which you reciprocate but you know neither of you will honor. Whatever.

Some send invitations to connect on LinkedIn, which makes perfect sense. Good move.

And some give you real recommendations, information and contacts. Bless their hearts.

Acceptance stage: Finally finding the way forward.

I don't know if I have reached this yet. Probably not. I'll keep you posted.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 1.0

2009-05-05T21:28:00.000-07:00

The greed grew, the financial instruments got too complex, the oversight was shoddy, the focus narrowed on shareholder rather than stakeholder value, a few companies crashed, everyone lost confidence, even organizations with huge cash reserves had to promise the market cut backs and wham! BAM! Thank you M'am... I got laid off this afternoon.

Emotional journey today... I travelled through, around, and back to one or more of the following towns:

Why Meville

Thisuckston

New Migraine

Itill Allbe OKrellie

Iscrewed Upborough

Itbetternot Justbe Mevale

Iwanna TheirEyes Outclaw

Insanity Grove

Cryme Ariver

Kiss Mybottom

Feelingdown

Letsgo Climbanew Mountain

Ican Dothis

What highs and lows and twists and turn await us on this new journey?

Tune in, dear friends, and find out.

I will chronicle it day by day for your amusment and to preserve what's left of my sanity.

Quote Unquote

2009-05-04T22:27:00.001-07:00

Fluffy Bear:

"Today is Star Wars day. May the fourth be with you!"

Yes, I have to live with this.

Divided by a Common Language: The Violin Case

2009-05-04T21:17:00.000-07:00

Years ago I was on the tube, the Piccadilly Line from Heathrow into downtown London.

Knowing the trains are packed with tourists, the buskers love that line. Sure enough, about three stations out of Heathrow, a guy got on the train, announced that he'd be collecting any donations after his song, and started playing the violin.

Afterwards, he went around with a cap. An American tourist with me gave him 50p and then, after he went away, asked me if she'd given him enough.

I said yes, and that she didn't have to give anything if she didn't want to.

After all, I added, you can always tell the regular commuters, plugged into their iPods, books or newspapers open, conspicuously ignoring the little hat being waved in front of them.

She was relieved that she hadn't committed a tipping faux pas.

"It's just so different in New York," she said. "If we see a guy get on the train with a violin case, we duck!"

That's Life: My fifteen seconds of fame

2009-05-04T12:21:00.001-07:00

Years ago, I got tickets to be in the audience of a comedy talk show. We sat about half way up the studio audience seats, and I was near the aisle.

There was a warm up lady, whose jokes proved she'd never have her own show, who got us in the mood and gave us instructions on what to do. My favorite bit of her advice was when she told us to laugh at the guests' jokes even if they weren't funny, to make them feel comfortable.

Anyway, we practiced clapping and whooping and laughing, because God forbid anything be remotely genuine on TV.

Then the show started and it actually was very funny. I laughed so hard I misted my glasses up.

I saw a cameraman come towards me, but he had his camera at waist height and I thought he was focusing on the woman in front me, because her chest was like two Labrador puppies in a sack.

The show paused for the host to chill and get a drink and the warm up lady came out to tell us all what a good little audience we were being.

"You are all great!" she screeched. "Except for that woman over there who cleaned her glasses!"

I'm not kidding.

She pointed right at me and everyone turned to look. Fluffy Bear and our friends were paralytic with laughter and my dear husband refused to let me hide behind him.

Never mind, I thought. They'll just cut that bit out and use another generic audience shot.

But no.

We got home that night and there I was, in the middle of the frame, everyone around me laughing and clapping while I dared to do something different - polish my specs like a total dork.

But I've been on TV... that counts for something, right?

Right?

Quote Unquote

2009-05-03T21:36:00.000-07:00

Bill to me:

"You can find the cloud in any silver lining."

Quote Unquote

2009-05-03T20:54:00.000-07:00

We were watching an episode of Castle and the key characters were playing poker. Beckett, the female lead, had an ace and a king. Which prompted this little nugget from Fluffy Bear:

"You know what an ace and a king hand is called in Poker? An Anna Kournikova. Wanna know why? Looks great, wins nothing."

WTF? - How not to sell a renovated house

2009-05-03T15:56:00.000-07:00

Hold an open house before the renovation is finished and the varnish on the deck is still sticky.

Put a "Media Room" in the basement which is so narrow it can only fit two small armchairs side by side

Make interesting spend/no spend decisions in the kitchen: a special water tap next to the stove, but no water/ice dispenser on the fridge; two sinks but no garbage disposal

Show the house on a sunny day with the windows closed so it's hot. When a prospective buyer asks if the house has air conditioning, tell her "No, but all the windows open!"

Create an upstairs deck which is off the two kids bedroom rather then the master bedroom

Create a walk-in closet in the master bedroom that's so small only a nudist's wardrobe would fit in it

Put interesting art all over the place, like a five foot diameter clock with massive Roman numerals, a strange 6 foot long, 3 foot wide metal arrow. When people visit a house they want to visualize themselves in it, not deal with your taste in art. When a prospective buyer whispers feedback that the art is distracting from the overall house, say "I'm an expert in this," and walk away.

Put the house, in an area where comparable houses have sold for $500 - $800K less, on the market for over $2 million

WTF?

Yeah, good luck with that.

Puppy Dog - Life through a dog owner's eyes

2009-05-02T14:09:00.000-07:00

You see: A cute kid with her Dad saying hello to a doggie and playing ball with him
Dog Owner sees: Impending doom
Why: Dog Owner knows that if the stupid kid doesn't let go of the ball soon and keeps waving it in front of Dog's face, Dog is going to snatch it out of her hand and only fate can tell whether or not his teeth will make contact with her juicy little fingers and then the Dad will be mad and Dog Owner will have to grab Dog and say sorry and hope and pray that this doesn't turn into a lawsuit.

You see: A cute squirrel
Dog Owner sees: Medical bills
Why: Dog and Squirrel are arch enemies. Dog believes Squirrel should be crunched to death in its jaws. Squirrel believes Dog can be thwarted by simpy staring him down. Therefore, Squirrel just sits in the tree with hypno eyes. This means that Dog will bound forward, leash or no leash. At best, more visits to the massage therapist for your shoulder. At worst, you hit the deck and it's the chiropractor.

You see: Disgusting dirty tennis ball left on the sidewalk
Dog Owner sees: A free prize!
Why: Dog owner can say "Whassat? Whassat?" to Dog and witness his joy as he finds, and grabs, the tennis ball, tail high, wagging effusively.

You see: A hygiene crime

Dog Owner sees: Practicality

Why: Dog Owner has taken Dog for a long walk. All the water fountains are too high for dog and dont have sprays that are strong enough to go over the fountain and reach the floor. Therefore, Dog Owner has to buy a bottle of water at the pharmacy and share it with Dog. Dog Owner loves Dog, sees Dog panting and so lets Dog drink first. Dog Owner pours water into their palm and Dog laps it. Dog's tongue may touch the rim of the bottle. Dog Owner is thirsty too and figures that, hell, this aint that different from when I let Dog kiss me, so wipes off the edge of the water bottle and has a drink themselves. It's just more practical that way.

You see: Two dogs sniffing each other and then starting to growl and bark... how cute!

Dog Owner sees: Dead Dog

Why: Dog Owner knows that it is impossible to predict how two dogs will react to each other. Both may be docile and friendly yet not with each other. They may be friends, have play dates, but just have a problem with each other that particular day. Any inkling of things getting out of control is scary - very scary.

You see: A tennis court in the park with people playing on a nice summer's day

Dog Owner sees: A test of dog training

Why: For Dog, tennis ball has one function only: prey. The fact that humans are hitting them around is just a bonus - prey with game. Getting Dog to walk past tennis court without going completely insane is going to be very difficult. Dog Owner instantly regrets not having spent more time training Dog.

You see: Kids playing frisbee in the park

Dog Owner sees: A test of dog training + potential law suit.

Why: At least a tennis court has a fence around it.

Quote Unquote

2009-05-01T22:28:00.000-07:00

Nuggets from Carrie Fisher:

"Celebrity is often just Obscurity biding it's time."

Quoting her grandmother:

"A fly is just as likely to land on shit as on pie."

"Go ahead and cry! You'll pee less!"

Hello from (pant! pant!) Puppy Dog

2009-05-01T17:28:00.001-07:00

Hello Mama's friends!

Boy it's hot today! I am tired after my walk!

Mama is asking Dada if having a furkid qualifies her for a treat on Mother's Day. He's ignoring her.

I asked Mama why there isn't a Dog Day and she said "Every day is your bloody day, my Boy."

I think that's a bit cheeky! Since when is every day my day?

Every day involves a walk, meals, fresh water, three beds to choose from (excluding the one in the moving den) and treats. How is that special?

My own pool - that would be special. Oh wait... I have one.

My own yard - that would be special. Oh wait... I have one.

A special place of my own... that would be special. Oh wait... I have a special tent den where Mama and Dada keep my toys and I can go and sit in any time.

A chance to hang out with friends... that would be special. Oh wait... I get to go to doggy daycare once a week.

Being able to go anywhere in the house... that would be special. Oh wait... I'm allowed on the sofas and Mama and Dada's bed.

My own TV channel... that would be special. Oh wait... Mama and Dada leave Animal Planet on TV for me when they go out.

Hey!

I guess every day IS my day!

Wow!

I can't wait till tomorrow! It's DOG DAY!

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog

Quote Unquote

2009-04-30T14:45:00.001-07:00

"You so dumb you think Roe v. Wade are two ways to cross a river."

John Stewart, The Daily Show

I am Woman: Low-grade sexism

2009-04-29T18:49:00.001-07:00

I went to a work "morale event" this week. It was go-karting. I was one of three females there. I had to put a helmet sock over my head and mess up my makeup and hair. I've only done karting once in my life - unlike the guys who said "we know these" when the rules guy did the safety briefing. I don't think of myself as a crappy or hesistant driver... I can be pretty aggressive. But I suck at karting.

I really tried. I tried to get the feel of the car. I tried to be aggressive. I tried to copy what the guys around me were doing. But all I got was the blue flag waved frantically at me which meant "pull to the right and get the feck out of the way because you're blocking guys behind you who are better than you."

I came off the track and said - very loudly - "They do team days at spas, you know!"

I felt really uncomfortable through the whole thing.

On the way home, I started thinking about the morale events we've had over the last few years. Bowling, Pool, Karting, Baseball, Basketball.

Yes, women bowl. Yes, women play pool. Yes women can drive karts. Yes, women like to watch baseball and basketball.

But you gotta admit, these are all more mannish activities.

There are four strategies that I can think of to deal with these events:

Don't go (i.e. miss the networking opportunity)

Go but don't participate (i.e. be a decorative woman)

Go and be so good that you beat the men at their own game (this takes talent or a lot of practice - who can be bothered? - and ends up getting you seen as one of the boys)

Go and participate and be crap (i.e. be humiliated and be forced to be a "good sport" even though this activity isn't something you would ever choose to do or pay money for).

I tend to go with 4, and try to leave early. But I don't really have that much fun.

Am I reading too much into this, or are these events evidence of a low-grade sexism?

(feel free to answer in the Comments)

I am trying to think of team events that I'd be more comfortable with. The goals of a team event are decompression, interaction, networking, fun.

How about:

Linedancing?

Karaoke?

Salsa lessons?

Booking up a comedy club and asking them to pause between acts for us to eat and hang out?

Trivia night booked at a pub?

Wine tasting basics evening?

Cooking class?

Now I'm looking up stuff online. Check this out:

Drum class

Rowing

There's a guy that comes and reads your palm! Now we're talking!

Go to a local tourist haunt (how many people see tourist sites in their own town?)

Geocaching or treasure hunts
Chocolate tasting class! YEAH!

And yes there are cooking classes, wine tasting, etc., too.

OK now I'm being pro-active. I'm going to email these links to my boss. We'll see what happens...

Quote Unquote

2009-04-29T15:39:00.001-07:00

To be fair, this is probably a misquote, but it's the best I can do from memory.

I was flicking through the channels and ended up in the middle of an episode of Wife Swap.

In this show, wives from very different families swap over for a week or two. For the first part of the stay with their guest family, they abide by the rules of the lady of the house. For the second part, they can impose their own rules.

To make it "good" TV, the producers tend to choose very different families for the swaps. In this episode, a very hippy dippy family had swapped wives with a down-home cowboy family.
When I turned to the channel, Hippy Mama was telling her host family her new rules, and was addressing the Cowboy Dad, who was slouching on the couch sporting blue jeans, a Southern drawl and - of course! - a cowboy hat.

Hippy Mama explained that her husband walks around the house in a sarong and, now that the family had to follow her rules, the Cowboy Dad would do the same. And this is how she justified it:

"You need to feel the breeze of inspiration blow accross your loins."

He said something rude, stood up and walked out.

You gotta love dat trash TV!

Hello from Puppy Dog

2009-04-28T22:43:00.001-07:00

Hello Mama's friends!

Today Mama took me to the people who poke at you. There are always lots of great smells there - lots of dogs and sometimes a kitty to growl at. But then they always poke you.

There was a tall man and he kept rubbing me around my neck. He said that he was just petting me in a strange way but I wasn't buying it. I wasn't born into the litter yesterday!

Mama told him about a pea under my skin. I don't eat peas! What the heck was she talking about?

The nice man kept rubbing and rubbing and then he went away and a woman with orange fingernails - I could tell they were vile even though I don't see colors very well - came in and she did the same thing.

And then Mama said "Here it is!"

Then the orange fingered lady put on a buzzing machine and cut off some of my fur!

Then she took me in the back and the tall man poked me with a needle!

OW!

Some hairless apes sure do get their kicks in strange ways...

Afterwards Mama took me to the dog park so that made me feel better. But I had a hard time explaining to the other dogs why I had a small bald patch. Then I had a brainwave! I told them I got it on with a vicious bitch! Now who's the coolest dawg?

He he he he.

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog.

Divided by a Common Language: Eurovision 3

2009-04-26T18:50:00.000-07:00

Eurovision Semi-final 2 Song Reviews

Here are my Eurovision song reviews for the songs which will be in the second semi-final. You can find the songs on YouTube or eurovision.tv.

My previous reviews are here. An explanation of what the feck Eurovision actually is is here.

I have included the scores of my dear friend, Everywhereventually, a Eurovision officionado. You can see his take on Eurovision and his reviews on the songs on his site, here. Check the blog archives on the right.

Croatia - Lijepa Tena
As soon as this song started I thought I was in a Greek or Italian restaurant and someone had put on a CD for ambience. The song is not in either of those languages, of course, it just has that restaurant-CD feel. The man and woman singing didn’t harmonize very well in the version I saw – hopefully they do better on the night. Then they both started warbling. Spare me.
Score: 3/10
EE score: 33/100

Ireland – Et cetera
All woman band in an 80s look with black shirt-dresses and pink glitter lycra leggings. Oh yes, this is what I’m talking about. Cheesy. Silly. Catchy. Pop so shallow an ant couldn’t drown in it. Perfect.
Score: 8/10
EE score: 32/100

Latvia – Sastrēgums
90s rock/pop/indie/whatever. The band seems to be taking themselves far too damn seriously. This poprock song is completely unmemorable, despite the band’s efforts to shout certain words annoyingly. Not in English, which won’t help their score. Whatever.
Score: 3/10
EE score: 31/100

Serbia – Cipela
The song opens with some killer accordion playing, which is then somewhat strangely followed by a middle aged white man with a beard and a strange red afro singing a-la-Topol in Fiddler on the Roof. The great accordion is let down by a horrible synthetic beat and this awful raspy singing. Then a very pretty blonde dances on and is dipped by big hair guy and blows him a kiss. Yeah, dude, AS IF.
Score: 3/10
EE score: 10/100

Poland – I don’t Wanna Leave
A lovely voice catches the attention immediately. A pretty girl, a power ballad. Nice, but not interesting enough to win.
Score: 7/10
EE score: 34/100

Norway – Fairytale
Norway is never boring. But one is never sure exactly what Norwegian culture is as each year that I have seen them they seem to show the essence of another country. Here we have what looks like Russian dancers and a fresh-faced boy who plays the fiddle and sings. He sings and plays rather well and the song is simple, but satisfactory. Actually, this isn’t too bad. The kind of song you’d clap along to and is benign enough to be played on an Easy Listening station.
Score: 8/10
EE score: 84/100

Cyprus – Firefly
Pretty young woman, conservatively dressed, singing sweetly. I thought for a moment that this was building into something interesting, but it turned out to be another song that could be in a Disney animated movie. I kept visualizing an animated firefly hopping across a pond. Someone else could take this song and do a complete makeover with it and perhaps have a hit. But not this band.
Score: 6/10
EE score: 52/100

Slovakia – Let T’mou
A ballad in a foreign language sung by a pretty girl. Then some slimy guy with too much hair gel comes on and they don’t harmonize. Shitakia.
Score: 2/10
EE score: 18/100

Denmark – Believe Again
Yum. Cute lead singer. Cute band. Cute song. Wakey wakey girlie bijingoes! The song isn’t quite catchy enough but it’s good eye candy without infantile boy band dance moves.
Score: 8/10
EE score: 42/100

Slovenia – Love Symphony
Nice staging – the performers each behind their own white screen, backlit, so you see them as shadows playing their instruments. But then the four violinists reach up and pull down their own white screens – tacky that they couldn’t come up with something automatic – and a Hooked on Classics beat comes in. Then the lead singer starts to sing a bit from behind her screen. Oh! I get it. The violinists and cellist are the main players – she’s a token vocal! All she sings is “Feeling free in this love symphony” and a few other lines I couldn’t discern because she was shrieking. Oh wait, she’s torn down her screen now. Hmmmm. Whatever.
Score: 5/10
EE score: 53/100

Hungary – Dance with Me
OK this song is far too good to be a Eurovision song. This should be a REAL song on an album. Disco beat. Cute guy. Fun. I like it. It will play in clubs, for sure.
Score: 10/10
EE score: 67/100

Azerbaijan – Always
Pop song with ethnic under-beat. Not as good as Turkey’s Dum Tek Tek but not bad. Chorus is catchy. Another one that will play in Ibizan clubs over the summer.
Score: 9/10
EE score: 68/100

Greece – This is our Night
Dance beat, cute guy thrusting his hips. Promising, but the chorus doesn’t deliver. There are other countries doing the same thing better.
Score: 7/10
EE score: 86/100

Lithuania – Love
Melodic piano opens the song. Cute guy, cute hat, plays and sings. Chorus isn’t bad but Elton John he aint. This is the kind of boy, kind of song, you want to take home to Mom. Up to you to judge if that is a good or bad thing.
Score: 6/10
EE score: 64/100

Moldova - Hora Din Moldova
Having the name of the country in the song title doesn’t auger well. Starts with a woman quasi-yodelling and pan flutes. Then the Baltic beat comes in. Lots of Hey-Heys and dancing in lines kicking. Oh dear. I’m back in the Greek restaurant again.
Score: 6/10
EE score: 92/100

Albania – Carry me in your Dreams
Ooh! Good beat to start. Oh dear, here comes the cheesy pop synth beat. There is nothing wrong with shallow pop if it is well done. This isn’t.
Score: 5/10
EE score: 90/100

Ukraine – Be my Valentine (anti-crisis girl)
This woman is just…. Well... scary.
More badly written English lyrics: On my pride and prejudice/I will just reminisce/These are the things you can’t miss/Come on give me a kiss.
She keeps ending every line with "BOM" and when she precedes it with "you are sexy" it sounds like “You are sexy bum.” Flashbacks to the Cheeky Girls! AAARGH!
I don’t know how or why but the beat, the melody, the song just somehow ends up being farce instead of fun.
Score: 6/10
EE score: 95/100

Estonia – Randajad
This reminds me of those sexy classical girls like Vanessa Mae. There is something dark and elegant and sensual about this one, but not in slutty way.
The lead singer is stunningly beautiful and her hair would make the average Goth girl want to cry. Long, black, straight with a 100% symmetrical fringe across her ivory skinned face.
If she can sing in English we may see her getting a mainstream recording contract. This is a very refreshing entry, but I don’t think it is a contender for the top spot.
Score: 9/10
EE score: 81/100

The Netherlands – Shine
This is what happened to Abba in a parallel universe. They got old and fat but kept singing, and their songs were OK but not really as catchy and fun and good as they used to be.
I know I am being ageist and a beauty Nazi but really, this is just a bit lame. It’s like your dad getting up to do Karaoke in public at your birthday party in front of all your friends. Ick.
Score: 4/10
EE score: 61/100