I am not a nice person

I wanted a particular photograph to hang in my office. It reminds me of a pivotal point in my life. The photo is online, and I could have just lifted it off the site and printed it up at Walgreens for about $2. But, noooooooooooo.

I sent out three emails to track down the photographer in Columbus, Mississippi. I like to support the creative folks in this world, so I wanted to pay him for this wonderful picture. Nice, right? I know. It’s how I roll.

I copied the picture into an email asking if I could order it from him. Sure!! Just send $30, here’s the address, here’s my address, the usual stuff. We even had a phone conversation about the best size to order (he’s the professional, after all).

This was in October.

Every week since, I’ve emailed. Cashed check, no photo. Email. My helper didn’t send. Email. My shipping tubes just arrived. Email. It’s coming. Email. I forgot your address. Email. I lost your address. Email. Should be on its way. Email. Can you give me your address again? Email. I'll print it Monday. Email.

Anyway, last week, FINALLY a tube in the mailbox. YAY!!!

But it wasn’t anything close to what I ordered. Wrong photo, wrong orientation, wrong size, wrong blown-up-ed-ness/zoom percentage (whatever the term is for this).

A tad tired of emailing with him, I called to try to straighten things out, thinking that with any luck, I may never ever ever have to talk to him again.

He asked, “Can you email me the photo you want?”

“But you're the photographer? Why do I need to send you an attachment of YOUR photo? And, anyway, it’s in our emails. It was pasted into the first email I sent you. Wouldn’t you have it?”

“I can tell you’re upset. The first thing you need to do is to calm down.”

“What I need to do is to get this straightened out. It’s been six weeks and I’m tired of talking to you about a photo that I couldn’t have been clearer in ordering.”

“You need to relax. I can’t see the photo you put in the email.”

“How did you know what photo I was ordering?”

“I saw it once, but I can’t see it now.”

Chirp. “I will send as an attachment. Just please resend.”

“I need your address again.”

“Of course you do. You really should think of all this as lessons learned so you don't lose your shirt on your store.” (He mentioned that he was in the process of creating an e-bay store.)

"Those people will be ordering from file numbers, so none of this will happen."

Chirp. 

I waited another week (now seven weeks and ten times as many emails). Nothing. So, I email yet again. (I always put on my patience hat when working with "creatives" - they don't think the same way we do - but this was wayyyyyyyyyy beyond non-linear thinking.)

Ol’ lightning rod returns my email (from his work email address) almost immediately. “Been out all week with a sick kid. I’ll just send your money back to you.”

“That’s probably for the best. Somewhere this got too complicated for you.”

“Not complicated. Just circumstances out of my control.”

“The last seven weeks have not been beyond our control. This was a transaction a child could have handled. And on top of that, after last week's fiasco, you make up a story about a sick kid, because you obviously completely forgot.”

“My kid IS sick. He’s right here on the couch with me with ulcers and a fever. Thanks for your compassion. I’ll send you the photo AND your money back because I am a nice person. Merry Christmas.”

How the hell did I end up the bitch in this transaction??? I tell ya, it’s exhausting sometimes, trying to do the right thing with the wrong people.

A Two-Hour Flurry of Excitement

I was contacted Wednesday about a contract at a university in New York City and I admit, I got excited. I can’t tell you the last time I got this excited. I didn’t have the job or anything, but just the thought of six months within walking or underground riding distance of Manhattan. I’ve been working uneventfully in Plainfield, Indiana, since May, so you can imagine my thirst for ANYTHING, SOMETHING, exciting to happen.

Besides, this is what I've been waiting for. Work opportunities in other towns to expand my horizons and hone up my travelin’ gal skilz, to see how well I do venturing out into mobility. Then, if all goes well, (which I think it will, I’m a pretty strong kid) I can venture a little more, then a little more and a little more after that, until I feel in-the-know enough to spend some time abroad. Like in Canada, maybe.

And then it all hit me. The dog. My current contract. My current clients here in town. The hourly rate plus expenses hovering right around my bottom line. Six hours a week about an airplane or an airport. A whole lot of people. A whole lot of the time. 

So, I passed on pursuing it any further. It was the right decision for right now. Had it been for only three months and next fall, I think I would have tried harder to go (had I been selected, of course). I like to think so, anyway.

My numeroscope predicted two things this week: (1) a financial windfall and (2) a new opportunity and direction from unexpected, more creative, sources. 

I am ready to receive, Universe. I am ready and willing and able to receive. (And, while I’m being bold, about #1, maybe You could you make it tax-free, and about #2, maybe You could make it the second most expensive city in the country next time? *Hopefully, sarcasm won't affect my reception?)

I'm forever grateful. And did I say ready to receive? 

WTF?

They have decorated the tampon machine. Hung some garland around it and put a little table under it with a little nativity scene on top. 

How the hell did this come up in the decoration committee meeting (no doubt filled with middle-aged women with little girl names)?

“You know what we could do? Add a little festivity to the tampon-gettin’ area! Sure would put the gals in the holiday spirit. Every time they pee or poop. And they could say a little prayer to the plastic baby Jesus in his plastic baby crib when they need a tampon.”

Bah humbug, I scream. On the inside.

Speaking of bah humbug, Indianapolis has officially become the city to fight all happiness. In addition to creating the hell that is Washington Street on the West side, they have now prohibited all smiles in BMV pictures.

I couldn't be happier. 

Nothing, really

Sabrina doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to be really excited Tuesday to see her “daddy”. Austin comes home Tuesday afternoon and she’ll get to go back to bed with him after breakfast. I’ll have to lift her up on his bed, though. She can’t jump on beds anymore, which I’m not complaining about. I don’t wake up to floating dog hair anymore.

People are traveling in pairs and packs again. It happens every year for the holiday season. They’re hard to maneuver sometimes, but it’s nice to see people smiling and talking to each other, while doing their daily chores.

I’m in the thick of Perspicacity now, thanks to an angel of a friend. It makes me have crazy dreams that carry me back to 1970, 1980, and all the years between and since. Some is fact, some is fiction, but all familiar. It’s been in my head and in bits of files for years.

2008 was an “8” year of preparation. I like the thought of that, because it implies something’s coming. I feel it. I don’t know what it is and I like that feeling, too. I’m working around people who have worked at the same place doing the same thing for 15, 20, 25, 30 years. I can’t imagine that. I know it’s probably an easier life, but it’s just not for me. They all talk in increments of time left until retirement. It’s strange to listen to.

I’m worried about the economy. I’m worried for friends’ jobs. I’m glad Austin’s major is Biology. I think that’s a good choice for the future. I’m worried about my car. I want it to last forever. I love no car bills, cheap insurance, and not worrying about a stone or a loose shopping cart hitting it.

Today has been a little nostalgic and lonely. These days happen. Not very often, for which I’m grateful. I used to enjoy fall until I lived in this neighborhood full of Jewish retirees. They spend hours, days even, doing yard work that they could pay someone to get done in an hour. The man who lives behind me waits until dark, and then mows his backyard for hours and hours until the fallen leaves are pulverized into what has to be leaf smoothies. It’s something to watch.

On my trip, I stopped in a town named Chillicothe, Ohio for gas and watched a woman in a t-shirt and shorts (it was 40 degrees) and a pink feather-boa-type scarf around her neck get gas and go to the restroom and shop in the tiny convenience store. i couldn't take my eyes off of her. She couldn’t have cared less what anyone thought of her. She was proud of herself. I immediately liked her and wanted to know everything about her.

Earlier that same day, I stopped at a McDonald’s near Bluefield, Virginia for an Egg McMuffin, and the man behind the counter apologized for having to give me a huge bag. “I'm so sorry. We’re all out of the normal sized bags.” I didn’t know what to say, but I wanted to hug him. It was so nice after being in the Research Triangle, full of PhDs driving 90mph and cutting each other off, I suppose in their efforts to cure cancer.

I think I could drive back and forth between Knoxville, TN and Asheville, NC for the rest of my life. I wonder if I'd ever tire of it.

Values Exercise

I have never given a lot of thought to why October, my favorite and most hopeful month of the year, is when I review the year and organize and plan for the next year. Some might say it’s a numerological phenomenon, because October is a “1” month signifying beginnings.

I’ve also never thought a lot about why some plans fail and others succeed or change into new plans.

So, I’ve been encouraged to do a Values Exercise. I’ve read about and tried this before, but I never fully understood it until I found a Website called The Personal Growth Center last week:

The best definition for values I could find is here at stevepavlina.com. Steve defines values as priorities that tell you how to spend your time, right here, right now.

The Personal Growth Center has a list of common personal values that was manageable for me.

I found the Self-Analysis exercise (at the very bottom of the page) clear and enlightening:

  1. Select any values from the list that resonate.
  2. List five of those selected that have helped shape your life and bring you to where you are today.
  3. List two new values that you would like to implement in your life.
  4. Create a detailed action plan for each of your seven values.

What used to be a seemingly random to-do list for the upcoming year is now a plan of specific action tailored only to what’s important to my innate values.

Ah, meaning and happiness (which, ironically, aren't in my list of seven, but can't be anything but inevitable).

The Definition of Awkward

1: obsolete
2a: lacking dexterity or skill b: showing the result of a lack of expertness
3a: lacking ease or grace b: lacking the right proportions, size, or harmony of parts
4a: lacking social grace and assurance b: causing embarrassment
5: not easy to handle or deal with : requiring great skill, ingenuity, or care <an awkward load>
=============

There are a slew of things that can make one feel bad about oneself. Here’s one that wouldn’t typically come to mind: Try being on a technical writing project at an energy company after the worst storm in the state’s history.

Offer to help and folks look at you, as if to ask, “What is it exactly that you think you could do?” (They're kind-hearted folks, so they do try to hide it.)

Everyone scurries from one emergency to the next, talking on emergency equipment, manning control centers, sleeping on cots on rare breaks. Busy people. Critical people. Disaster recovery people.

So you look empathetic and show concern by periodically asking how people are doing, hide in the bathroom as much as possible, and post on a blog about how awkward and useless you feel. And remain on the ready to document shit.

Never say "these people" in Tunica, Mississippi

Austin’s grandparents had come for a visit, and we wanted to show them the new casinos in Tunica. (It’s just what you do.) We found a small Taco Bell inside The Grand, so we placed our orders and slid over to the pick-up counter. One by one, everyone picked up their trays and headed to a table. I was last. I gave her $6 for my and Austin’s orders and headed to the pick-up counter like everyone before me.

I waited. And waited. And waited some more. No tray. No questions. And even though, I never took my eyes off of her, she never so much as glanced anywhere in my direction. Finally, I asked her about my order.

“I don’t has no oh-der foh you.”

“I just placed it with you less than two minutes ago. I paid $6. I’ve been standing here waiting on it.”

“I don’t has it.”

And she walked off to the back of the kitchen.

I called to her to come back. “May I have my money back then?”

No response. I yelled again. “Can you check the register for it?” She was exasperated already, but she did check – she glanced at the screen on the register and said, “It ain’dare.” And walked away again.

I called after her, “Well, what are we going to do?

She shrugged. “I looks foh ma man-ger’s phonumba.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Then, she got on the phone. And I waited some more. I motioned to the table for them not to wait on me. Someone gave Austin a taco. She hung up and walked over to talk to her co-worker. I thought they might be discussing my plight, but they talked and laughed and the co-worker rubbed her bulging belly. They were talking babies!!!

I think I yelled. “Did you get in touch with your manager?

She looked at me like she couldn’t believe I was still there. “She don’t ansuh hu’pho.”

“Where is she?”

“A’ home.”

“Is there nobody here who can get my money or my order?”

“No.” And she turned back around to talk to her friend again.

I gave up and went to get the security guard who sits at a stand at the front of the casino. I explained the situation to him, and he walked back to the Taco Bell with me.

“I don’t has no oh-der foh huh.”

He looked as though he was giving consideration to the idea that I might be lying. I pointed to my family, here from out-of-town, and asked him why I might put myself through all this trouble for the mere pleasure of interacting with her.

Then, I did it. I said, “Tunica will never get repeat customers until these people learn how to work at customer service jobs.”

(What I MEANT was that while I couldn’t be happier that Tunica hires local and rural people from around Tunica who desperately need jobs, they can be uneducated, unintelligible, generally angry and put-out, and, as a result, untrained in handling customers.)

He grabbed the back of my suddenly criminal arm, and shouted, “Alright, that’s enough. We don’t tolerate that here.”

It took me just a second. “That wasn’t what I meant. THAT WASN’T WHAT I MEANT!!!!!!!!”

He started pushing me towards the exit.

“Unless I see my $6, I’m calling the police as soon as I get outside.”

So he stopped, pulled out his wallet, gave me $6 and proceeded to escort me from the building while my family and 9-year-old son watched. Lesson learned. I’ll never say “these people” in Tunica, Mississippi, again. And even better, I’ll never be in Tunica, Mississippi, again. Not that they'd let me in.

Miscellaneous Diversions

I think I’m off news again for a while. Shaken babies, absent-minded parents leaving children in cars to die, people imprisoned by their parents in trailers and basements, people eating people on busses, legislators working 30 days for $200K in retirement funds, disastrous presidential choices, Lohan Lohan Lohan.

So…..

Truly terrific, absolutely true fun ((I stole this link from Ross Mathews’ blog, but it’s too fantastic to ever forget):

Musical memory fun: Romeo's Tune

Addictive fun: Sequence

Puppy fun:

Heartwarming fun: StoryCorps

And just for my own fun, if I were interviewed:

What was the happiest moment of your life?
I’ve had a lot of little happy moments, but picking something that stands out as the happiest? I don’t know. I’ve had proudest and most grateful, but happiest? As in joyful? Maybe eating lobster and blueberry pie with Austin at the Fisherman’s Catch? Maybe listening in Poindexter Hall? Maybe talking to UF on the phone? Maybe my 30th birthday?

What are you most proud of?
The thoughtful and responsible man my son is turning out to be.

What are the most important lessons you’ve learned in life?
Gut instinct is God. What I focus on expands. Positive thinking is faith. Mind off self is happiness. Listening is the best gift. I need people. I can’t change people. Acceptance. Forgiveness. Compassion. That it’s all just various forms of Love.

What is your earliest memory?
Painting our toenails on the tiny porch of our house on Sterling Drive, hearing the ice cream truck at the same time and my mother rushing around to find change for us.

How would you like to be remembered?
A good friend, intelligent, funny, hopeful, tried to do the right thing, independent.

Sort of Just Talking to Myself

When I look back over 2008 someday, I have a feeling I’m going to remember July as the best month of the year. All my star readings said that the month would be filled with significant changes and synchronicities and all things outrageous, and were they right. So what if that astrological woman on CNN got blindsided by the earthquake. I believe. I believe!! 

People agreed with me in public and I had a few meals with friends and I found out some new things about said friends and a self-appointed and inept Chair I know stepped down and I think I have a year-long plan and goal and I got a good haircut and an even better (looking) handyman and I read and I wrote and I said a prayer for the IRS and the Internets and email and I laughed and I was surprised and I helped Sabrina find her froggie (three times) and I remembered an old friend fondly and realized I miss her and I posted to a new blog and I talked with “my” coach and I got to watch while my son spent his own money and I felt thought of and loved and appreciated and lucky. 

Well, except for a run-in with some stinky shoes I bought at JCPenney for $5.34 after a $15 coupon. What’s the world coming to when you can’t buy a pair of non-smelly shoes for $19.99? What’s next? $4 gas, $9 printer paper (yes! at CVS just this morning!)?

Have you ever smelled your hands after putting down a new rug? Sometimes, there’s a chemical smell that requires a shower to get rid of. Same with these shoes. Real problem is that today is my third time wearing them. I figure if you’re close enough to me to smell my shoes, then you’re too close, period, and you deserve what you get. There’s IM and email after all, there’s no need for all that face-to-face stuff. 

What I mean to say is that I can even live with my stinky shoes. (If I’m honest, though, the ride home in my non-air-conditioned (broke a couple weeks back and every time I think about paying the $500 to fix it, I get the feeling that the whole car is going to die the next day and I decide to live with it) car gets a little funky if I don’t take them off and put them in the back seat where they can get enough air flow to flow out the back window.) 

And right when I thought the month couldn’t get any better, yesterday I found a contest announcement by the Hillary Clinton campaign.  It takes a lot to make this ol’ gal giddy, but this did it. 

“Ordinary” people can donate from $10 to $2,300 for a chance to win a dinner with her. Proceeds of the raffle, of course, go towards paying her $25 million debt. I’m confused by the amount – it was $25 million a few months ago – how could it still be $25 million? Is it that whole vicious cycle of making minimum payments on a credit card? 

The rules and restrictions say “Contest limited to legal residents of the U.S. who are at least 18 years of age and who support Hillary Clinton.” Her team felt it needed to put in a disclaimer that you can’t be a hater? I guess it really does take a village.

A Clinton begging for money always makes me happy, but this. This was truly a gift from the Universe, tied up in a bow especially for me. 

Ah -- at the risk of some Christian calling me a Christian -- God is good.

Missing Atlanta. Not.

Why is it that I can always spot Atlanta folks on House Hunters? They don't even have to speak and I know. I'm never wrong either. It's a gift, I guess. Or better yet, confirmation that I did the right thing.

Last night, the Atlanta couple walked through the door of a Fayetteville (seriously?) home.

The wife, walking into the foyer, said, “Oh, this is nice and light.”

Then the husband said, “Yes, I like it. It’s very eloquent.”

Ah, Atlanta. I miss you so.

This has never happened to me before

The temperature gauge on my car had been heading dangerously close to the red zone for a couple of weeks. I had some upcoming travel for work scheduled, so I bucked up and called the dealer for estimates. She immediately quoted $125 for a diagnostic fee, $150 for a radiator flush service, and, guessing it could be a thermostat issue, another $260 for that work.

I decided to go to Jiffy Lube Joe the next morning to have him do the flush service at the cheaper Jiffy Lube rate (plus, I had a coupon!). At least I'd spend less money if that was all it needed.

Joe popped the hood and investigated. He didn’t think that a radiator flush service would solve my problem but had liability issues offering up an opinion (since they don’t actually do full-fledged auto repair work).

But he put some antifreeze in the radiator anyway (it was empty – who knew!) and declared, “This is the worst water pump leak I think I’ve ever seen.”

He charged me $10 for the antifreeze and sent me to Car-X after calling his friend, who is the manager, for availability and pricing.

Mike, the Car-X Manager, took my keys and asked if I could leave it with him. I said I could go spend some time in the McDonald’s down the road but that I’d have to wait because it was my only transportation. “That’s okay. I’ll push you ahead of someone. It shouldn’t be more than 90 minutes.” An hour later, it was ready, and the bill was only $176 – a full $50 less than I was originally told.

When I say this has never happened to me, in all my driving years, I mean that my experiences have always been the complete opposite. I think there may be positive interference in my magnetic field. I can’t wait for something else to go wrong with the car to test it out. Well, not exactly. :o

And I like to think of this as my paying it forward, although I really can’t claim that, because it was so unintentional. The Car-X mechanic who actually replaced the water pump got in my car to pull it into its stall and, as I walked by headed towards my Egg McMuffin, asked if my car window was broken. I said, ‘Nahh, it’s just moody.” He must have laughed for five minutes. His laughing made me start laughing and we couldn’t stop. I know, right? Not really funny at all.

But I think I made his day, and all three of these nice men made for the nicest broken car day I’ve ever had. I don’t even care that I didn’t get to use a coupon.

Escape to.....Plainfield

Nothing has made this gal want to leave Indianapolis more than a Marion County length commute on 82nd/86th Street. The meanness of it has driven me to stay inside all weekend escaping with movies like Baby Boom and Under the Tuscan Sun, and going on online journeys with The Frugal Traveler or Cynthia Morris.

I will always view our time here as a gift, because it’s been a wonderful place to raise Austin. He knows opportunity and diversity that he wouldn’t have known had we stayed where we were.

I also attribute my thoughts of escape to having never lived in one 6-mile radius this long. Same commutes, same stores, same people, same, same, same. Even Austin, who ribs me incessantly about moving him around too much because he knows it immediately conjures up maternal guilt and I’ll offer to either buy him something or cook him a real dinner, is ready to leave for Bloomington.

So I’m ready to work in Plainfield. I didn’t think I would be, but I am. I’m ready for highway drives again. I’m ready for new places to discover on my lunch hour. I’m ready for country (only meant as “non-city”) folks. I’m ready for a new view.

I also have thought and thought about moving in August when our lease ends. A smaller place, less expensive, possibly more convenient, makes sense. But I don’t think it’s time. The savings wouldn’t really make up for the cost to move, and I'm perfectly and quietly situated among a slew of retirees with disposable income for lots of travel.

And when I do move, I hope that it won’t be within the state. Another year. Or two. Greener pastures. Rolling hills. Sky to the ground. Water. Accents. Daydreams. Connections. Callings. And the womanly balls I haven't fully used since 2002.

April 25th is World Penguin Day

Come to find out, there’s a celebration (or two) every day of the year (April 30th is National Honesty Day, and I'm already planning to have an honest discussion with myself).  

But today is April 25th and it's World Penguin Day in celebration of the beginning of the annual northward migration of the Antarctic’s Adelie penguins.

I’m a big fan of the penguin. Not just for their obvious cuteness, but for their tenacity, their loyalty and their attention to detail.

Six things you can do to increase awareness of this marvelous penguin journey:

  1. Take a friend to the zoo -- or if you can’t muster the penguin perseverance to make it there, watch this video from the lazy comfort of your home: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HHJWtLhHoE0
  2. Attend a penguin parade -- or if that’s too much trouble, too, watch this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hocght2zfhA
  3. Read a book about a penguin to your child. Or better yet, play a penguin game: http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/antarcticpenguins/quiz.swf
  4. Wear black and white (tuxedos are optional).
  5. Walk around your block a bazillion times in solidarity.
  6. Honk.

So, today, April 25th, take a little time to wish them well.

Happy trails, Penguins!!! Take a sweater.

Scavenger Hunt

Now, this is a neat fundraiser: Believe in Books, The Hunt for Literacy

In this annual Spring event, participants drive around the White Mountains Region of New Hampshire with family and friends chasing clues and earning points. Proceeds benefit the Literacy Foundation, which encourages appreciation of reading and literature among people of all ages.

I found this event in my Heart of New England newsletter this week.

Unrelated note: Never ever ever send a senior in high school to the state of Texas for Spring break. No details will be provided. Just heed my warning. Never ever ever.

Keyword for the next post: Escape.

Chills and Fever

Could this be a sign? Austin is going to Galveston the first week of April for his last High School Spring Break. It dawned on me that I might go somewhere, too. So, where do I look first? Tom Jones’ Website, of course!! (Seeing him LIVE is tops on my life's to-do list.)

He’s performing at MGM that week. I calculated about $600 to get there and stay for one night. Plus the $100 for the ticket.

Then………….and luckily...…

I spotted an article or a review or some cyber thing-a-ma-jig that said he was touring the country!!

So, I delved a little deeper….

St. Louis!! 4 hours away!! An arena, though. Did I want to see Tom Jones in a hockey rink? Not so much.

Prairie Some Place, Iowa. For Tom – the first entry on my life’s to do list? Apparently, not so much.

Knoxville!! 5 hours away!! In the Tennessee Theatre where their symphony plays. Row L. Close to aisle. Not bad. Hilton 3 blocks away. Coupon. Done.

I’m a lady with chills and fever who feels the green, green grass of home.

And I don't mind if I do help myself to a lil’ puppet man.

Dan and Dave

Dan Miller was on Dave Ramsey’s radio and TV shows Monday, the 18th, making for a perfect combination of inspiration and perspiration: Dan works on one’s income, and Dave works on one’s outgo.

Both agreed on the five requirements for success:

  • Passion
  • Determination
  • Faith
  • Talent
  • Self-discipline

Dave said, “What’s great is that you can decide TODAY to have all five.”

They also agreed that 85% of success is identifying strengths, while only 15% is the logistics of getting there. (Where they got the percentages is not entirely clear, but who am I?!)

One of Cynthia Morris’ tasks this month was for us to identify a “Creative Leap” and the skills and qualities we used that made it a success.

Guess I’m off to make my list of how great I can be. I could be a while (not due to length of list). :)