I'm having a really hard time with forgiveness right now.
I don't want to be a person who carries a grudge. Actually I don't usually carry a grudge. Generally I'm someone who forgives pretty easily in most circumstances though I must admit in the last several years of my life, I've not necessarily "forgiven" easily but I just don't care about some things anymore. Maybe that's a form of forgiveness? I'm just don't care anymore to still be mad or upset. I don't know.
But lately something happened and I find I am MAD and not forgiving and I'm thinking super hateful thoughts, and.... I don't want to be that person but man, oh, man, am I having a hard time of putting that burden down.
I'm furious with one single person and his huge inaction that caused harm to someone I dearly love. This person is not someone I know well at all but I know "of" him and he's not a very nice human. That probably doesn't help me. He's inability to do the right thing almost killed someone I love and knowing he's overall a crappy human, makes me have some pretty ugly thoughts about him. And that freaks me out.
Talking to someone professional would help me. By professional I don't mean a hit man (though...??? Yeah, yeah, okay, not) but I mean a minister or a counselor. I don't know. I think about the incident and I hate this guy and don't care if he dies. Yes, that makes me about as bad as him.
Yes, I need to get rid of the anger and that might let me forgive him. I don't know. The event in question happened more than a month ago and I think of how much I hate this person at least once a day. Not good.
I won't do anything to him- that's not in my nature at all. The idea of ME hurting him or having a hand in something happening to him freaks me out, but if I heard he was killed in a car wreck I wouldn't be all that sad.
Yeah, I have an issue. I can't give the specifics of what happened---legal ramifications, but suffice it to say this guy is scum and most people would agree. (Those who know the details do agree!)
Anger isn't good. It screws with my mojo and my happy place. I don't like having bad thoughts or negative juju. All the pictures of kittens and hippos and giggling babies don't help. I hate it when something stomps on my karma. It's just NOT me to be like this and I really hate it.
I thought writing this might help purge a little so we shall see.
Mags
Saturday, October 18, 2014
Friday, October 17, 2014
Fall Down, Go Boom
Being in a hurry doesn't do anyone any good. Watch where you're going. Pick up your feet. All three wise statements I'm sure I've been told numerous times in my life. And yesterday would've been a good time to adhere to these three pieces of advice- all at once, too.
I was in a hurry. I needed to run into the apartment really quickly to drop something off, pee, then leave again. I parked in front of the building instead of in my usual parking space.
And I fell down.
Ugh.
The first thing I wanted to do was jump up and look around and make sure no one saw me except for Mac, who was with me. But some how in trying to get up quickly, I fell back over.
Somehow I became a turtle. Laying in the grass and sidewalk, on my back, and I couldn't get up. Well, shit.
I was rushing, I was scuffling along in a pair of shoes that fit when I bought them but are a bit stretched after so much wear so they slide around so I wasn't picking up my feet, and I tripped stepping up over the curb and fell down. Then didn't get my feet under me in my haste to stand back up and down I went again.
I have a skinned knee- like bleeding skinned, skinned palms, and a very sore elbow. Oh yeah, I'm 43 years old with a skinned knee. I felt like an idiot.
Mac was all "Mom, are you okay? Mom, let me help you up. Mom, what the hell happened?" He said one minute I was up and the next minute I was a turtle on its back. And I am so glad he went with concern instead of a laugh.
I want to make only one feeble excuse in my defense- a very feeble excuse- the curb is exceptionally high in that spot, where I was stepping up. Instead of being a few inches off the ground like a normal curb, it's about 18 inches, like a high stair step. Yup... lame excuse...
Thankfully I didn't land in dog poop, though I was covered in grass because the lawn had just been cut and no one bags the clippings. But no poop! Other good things- I didn't rip my pants. I have no idea how I managed to skin my knee but not rip my jeans- thank you Fall Down Go Boom Gods for that small favor. I was wearing my favorite jeans! It seemed that no one saw me go splat other than Mac. Ego not as bruised as it could've been because normally our apartment complex has kids outside running around, and LOTS of porch sitters. I have no idea where everyone was at but I was glad they were NOT outside!
And I used a really cool Spiderman band-aid on my knee.
Maggie
I was in a hurry. I needed to run into the apartment really quickly to drop something off, pee, then leave again. I parked in front of the building instead of in my usual parking space.
And I fell down.
Ugh.
The first thing I wanted to do was jump up and look around and make sure no one saw me except for Mac, who was with me. But some how in trying to get up quickly, I fell back over.
Somehow I became a turtle. Laying in the grass and sidewalk, on my back, and I couldn't get up. Well, shit.
I was rushing, I was scuffling along in a pair of shoes that fit when I bought them but are a bit stretched after so much wear so they slide around so I wasn't picking up my feet, and I tripped stepping up over the curb and fell down. Then didn't get my feet under me in my haste to stand back up and down I went again.
I have a skinned knee- like bleeding skinned, skinned palms, and a very sore elbow. Oh yeah, I'm 43 years old with a skinned knee. I felt like an idiot.
Mac was all "Mom, are you okay? Mom, let me help you up. Mom, what the hell happened?" He said one minute I was up and the next minute I was a turtle on its back. And I am so glad he went with concern instead of a laugh.
I want to make only one feeble excuse in my defense- a very feeble excuse- the curb is exceptionally high in that spot, where I was stepping up. Instead of being a few inches off the ground like a normal curb, it's about 18 inches, like a high stair step. Yup... lame excuse...
Thankfully I didn't land in dog poop, though I was covered in grass because the lawn had just been cut and no one bags the clippings. But no poop! Other good things- I didn't rip my pants. I have no idea how I managed to skin my knee but not rip my jeans- thank you Fall Down Go Boom Gods for that small favor. I was wearing my favorite jeans! It seemed that no one saw me go splat other than Mac. Ego not as bruised as it could've been because normally our apartment complex has kids outside running around, and LOTS of porch sitters. I have no idea where everyone was at but I was glad they were NOT outside!
And I used a really cool Spiderman band-aid on my knee.
Maggie
Monday, October 6, 2014
TV show inspires weird thoughts
Okay raise your hands if you watch LAW AND ORDER: SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT. This is my fav of all the LAW AND ORDER options.
But it made me think...
You know how every time they have have a victim and they do a rape kit or during the postmortem Dr. Warner finds a hair in the vic's panties? They have to send the hair to the crime lab and usually it gives them some info on a possible perp, right?
Here's my fear... what if I die in some horrible way that a CSI team has to do analyze hair found in my underwear? And then it comes back as a dog hair?
I hope their thought isn't, "this chick was into kinky shit with her dog. Bestiality is wrong, man" (said like Det. Tutuola). I hope their thoughts are more like, "Oh, she has a dog and it sheds so the hair must've gotten in her underwear when she folded laundry while sitting on her couch while watching LAW AND ORDER: SVU."
This is the stuff I think about...
Maggie
But it made me think...
You know how every time they have have a victim and they do a rape kit or during the postmortem Dr. Warner finds a hair in the vic's panties? They have to send the hair to the crime lab and usually it gives them some info on a possible perp, right?
Here's my fear... what if I die in some horrible way that a CSI team has to do analyze hair found in my underwear? And then it comes back as a dog hair?
I hope their thought isn't, "this chick was into kinky shit with her dog. Bestiality is wrong, man" (said like Det. Tutuola). I hope their thoughts are more like, "Oh, she has a dog and it sheds so the hair must've gotten in her underwear when she folded laundry while sitting on her couch while watching LAW AND ORDER: SVU."
This is the stuff I think about...
Maggie
Saturday, October 4, 2014
I got the dentist blues....
Regular readers of this blog and fans of "Maggie" as well as my real life friends all know that I am scared to death of the dentist. As in irrational fear of the dentist. There aren't enough words to encompass the dental fears. Intellectually, I have complete control of it-- emotionally I'm a total basket case.
Back in 2009-2010 I had to have a root canal. I was living with Daddy-O then and that experience should open the gates of heaven wide open to him when the time comes. The poor guy went above the parental duties and took me to all my appointments AND also dealt with me before and after each of them. Our friend Curly helped us through with ride alongs and moral support, too. These 2 people love me unconditionally (only God knows why!) and took it all in stride, never once making me feel like an idiot, a fool, silly, a loser, ridiculous. Neither of them got mad at me or told me to "suck it up" or "get it together" or to "stop acting like a baby." They may not have understood the irrational-Maggie-needs-therapy-to-deal-with-the-dentist fear i have but they understood me and, in the words of Vonnegut... so it goes.
Well, I've moved and life is different and I had to have another dental procedure. (Yes, I intellectually I understand if I went to the dentist for regular check-ups/cleanings then I wouldn't have to have surgery every few years. Dental fear outranks irrationality). This started about 8 weeks ago.
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAD toothache. Shit.
Find a new dentist here in the Capital. I have no insurance so I had to find someone who would take payments, new patients, and who could deal with my hysteria. And well, holy cow, believe it or now, I found such a guy.
I made my first appointment. Mac took me- we knew it was going to be a consult and Mac had the day off so there was no reason for TheGuy to take the day off. It was a get to know the dentist/patient and talk and take a look in my mouth. That appointment went fine. I hyperventilated on the way there, Mac talked me down and I only cried a little in the waiting room. The dentist who specializes in people like me said I would have to have either a root canal ($3000) or have it extracted ($900). Okay, an extraction. We made an appointment for 10 days.
I was feeling pretty okay because the dentist said he would give me a pill the night before to help me sleep, a pill to relax me the morning off and he would give me and IV and knock me out. I wouldn't feel a thing. Okay, I could do this. I was fine. I was going to be out like a light.
TheGuy and I took the day off to take me. Apparently things didn't go according to plan... I took the drugs like I was supposed to but I'm a pretty hard stick so they couldn't give me the IV. I was pretty loopy and I was told- because I remember none of this- that when I saw the needle he was going to give me a shot in the arm as a different approach I cried and begged to now stick me. Okay, the dentist reasons that he would send me to a dental surgeon who could do a better job.
Remember I'm basically unconscious. I don't remember any of the following. They wheel-chaired me to the car, TheGuy drove across town, picking up Mac from work and dropping him at home since he got done early, took me to the surgeon, had me fill out paperwork and took me to an exam room. The surgeon there said he couldn't do the extraction because of all the drugs I already had AND because he wanted payment up front. TheGuy and I left and he took me home and put me to bed. I woke up at 5PM feeling like a truck has driven over me, then back up and did it again, and I still had the freakin' tooth. I remember none of that paragraph.
TheGuy was pissed and said i was a baby and should suck it up and I was being ridiculous. I guess I was apparently lippy to him about his ex-wife. I do NOT remember. I have no idea. He was completely pissed and douchebag to me over nothing I remember- I don't even remember now.
So, I still have this infected impacted tooth and I have to get rid of it.
I call my dentist back on Monday. His entire staff was so nice and they said how bad they felt because I was so upset. They were so kind. The doc had a plan. He said he had a friend who is a phlebotomist and she would come in and give me the IV if I wanted to try again. I can't believe they were willing to try again, all things considered. We also agreed no silly pills. I was going to take one Valium before, then I was going to listen to music with noise canceling headphones (I made a dentist play list) and have some nitrous. He would give me an IV if necessary.
Now, who was going to take me? I checked to see how much a cab would be and it was close to $60 from the office to my apartment. Over my dead body was asking TheGuy (it's very telling about him. You know in marriage vows the whole "in sickness and in health" part? He obviously isn't very "sickness". good thing I'm not married to him. This is very serious food for thought, in my opinion.). I sorts of hinted to Daddy-O but didn't come right out and ask. It would've been a lot to ask of him though and I wanted to see if I could come up with my own plan. My Boss said he could pick me up and trust me, I was ready to go that route before I was ready to ask TheGuy... but alas, it turned out that Mac had the day off and he VOLUNTEERED to take me.
So my 21 year old kid who is mostly messed up in his own right, said he would drive me. And he did. My appoint was at 7:30 am and he was up on time and ready to go. He was making silly jokes. He was nice. He got me there and held my hand until I was out like a light. He didn't make fun of my dentist play list I created. The IV was necessary but Mac was there through it all. He drove me home, picked up my extra prescription, got me in the house and to bed and he stayed with me all day long to make sure I was okay. He made me soup and Jell-O.
I feel icky physically today but I'll live. I got through it. And this time, I'm going to work really hard to go to the dentist every 6 months for a cleaning and check up. My new dentist said he'll give me free nitrous for a cleaning if I need it until I get relaxed to have one without. He said it's his goal to turn me into a dental pro. He's a good person. Mac is a good person. I think yesterday he earned some "heaven points."*
So, now I'm just taking it easy today.
Nursing the hole in my head,
Maggie
*An aside---- a while ago my friend Lori and I were talking about crap we did and wished there was a reward system when we had to deal with stupid people or do stuff we didn't want but felt we "had" to do. We figured it was a way to earn "heaven points." We don't have a tight number system more just a catch phrase like... Lori: "I have to chaperon a field trip because the math teacher got the flu and couldn't go at the last minute." Me: "You just earned a ton of heaven points." Her: "no shit."
PS- In the above post I also mentioned that I created a dentist play list. I did. I wanted great music to listen to while this was happening in case I didn't need the IV. Okay, I needed the IV but I had to be ready. I was in a complete conundrum about what to play. First, I didn't want it to be something quiet/soothing/calm because that is all soft music and I was afraid it wouldn't be loud enough to cover the scary dentist tools and tooth pulling sounds. I didn't want head banging stuff that would cause my blood pressure to raise which would then force the nurse to kick my drugs lower and then I might wake up and hear dental scary stuff. So I had to found a blend of happy music that was also pop/rock/loud. Below is a list of music I used as my dentist play list (and my dentist LAUGHED) when he looked at the titles... Google and enjoy yourself:
Back in 2009-2010 I had to have a root canal. I was living with Daddy-O then and that experience should open the gates of heaven wide open to him when the time comes. The poor guy went above the parental duties and took me to all my appointments AND also dealt with me before and after each of them. Our friend Curly helped us through with ride alongs and moral support, too. These 2 people love me unconditionally (only God knows why!) and took it all in stride, never once making me feel like an idiot, a fool, silly, a loser, ridiculous. Neither of them got mad at me or told me to "suck it up" or "get it together" or to "stop acting like a baby." They may not have understood the irrational-Maggie-needs-therapy-to-deal-with-the-dentist fear i have but they understood me and, in the words of Vonnegut... so it goes.
Well, I've moved and life is different and I had to have another dental procedure. (Yes, I intellectually I understand if I went to the dentist for regular check-ups/cleanings then I wouldn't have to have surgery every few years. Dental fear outranks irrationality). This started about 8 weeks ago.
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAD toothache. Shit.
Find a new dentist here in the Capital. I have no insurance so I had to find someone who would take payments, new patients, and who could deal with my hysteria. And well, holy cow, believe it or now, I found such a guy.
I made my first appointment. Mac took me- we knew it was going to be a consult and Mac had the day off so there was no reason for TheGuy to take the day off. It was a get to know the dentist/patient and talk and take a look in my mouth. That appointment went fine. I hyperventilated on the way there, Mac talked me down and I only cried a little in the waiting room. The dentist who specializes in people like me said I would have to have either a root canal ($3000) or have it extracted ($900). Okay, an extraction. We made an appointment for 10 days.
I was feeling pretty okay because the dentist said he would give me a pill the night before to help me sleep, a pill to relax me the morning off and he would give me and IV and knock me out. I wouldn't feel a thing. Okay, I could do this. I was fine. I was going to be out like a light.
TheGuy and I took the day off to take me. Apparently things didn't go according to plan... I took the drugs like I was supposed to but I'm a pretty hard stick so they couldn't give me the IV. I was pretty loopy and I was told- because I remember none of this- that when I saw the needle he was going to give me a shot in the arm as a different approach I cried and begged to now stick me. Okay, the dentist reasons that he would send me to a dental surgeon who could do a better job.
Remember I'm basically unconscious. I don't remember any of the following. They wheel-chaired me to the car, TheGuy drove across town, picking up Mac from work and dropping him at home since he got done early, took me to the surgeon, had me fill out paperwork and took me to an exam room. The surgeon there said he couldn't do the extraction because of all the drugs I already had AND because he wanted payment up front. TheGuy and I left and he took me home and put me to bed. I woke up at 5PM feeling like a truck has driven over me, then back up and did it again, and I still had the freakin' tooth. I remember none of that paragraph.
TheGuy was pissed and said i was a baby and should suck it up and I was being ridiculous. I guess I was apparently lippy to him about his ex-wife. I do NOT remember. I have no idea. He was completely pissed and douchebag to me over nothing I remember- I don't even remember now.
So, I still have this infected impacted tooth and I have to get rid of it.
I call my dentist back on Monday. His entire staff was so nice and they said how bad they felt because I was so upset. They were so kind. The doc had a plan. He said he had a friend who is a phlebotomist and she would come in and give me the IV if I wanted to try again. I can't believe they were willing to try again, all things considered. We also agreed no silly pills. I was going to take one Valium before, then I was going to listen to music with noise canceling headphones (I made a dentist play list) and have some nitrous. He would give me an IV if necessary.
Now, who was going to take me? I checked to see how much a cab would be and it was close to $60 from the office to my apartment. Over my dead body was asking TheGuy (it's very telling about him. You know in marriage vows the whole "in sickness and in health" part? He obviously isn't very "sickness". good thing I'm not married to him. This is very serious food for thought, in my opinion.). I sorts of hinted to Daddy-O but didn't come right out and ask. It would've been a lot to ask of him though and I wanted to see if I could come up with my own plan. My Boss said he could pick me up and trust me, I was ready to go that route before I was ready to ask TheGuy... but alas, it turned out that Mac had the day off and he VOLUNTEERED to take me.
So my 21 year old kid who is mostly messed up in his own right, said he would drive me. And he did. My appoint was at 7:30 am and he was up on time and ready to go. He was making silly jokes. He was nice. He got me there and held my hand until I was out like a light. He didn't make fun of my dentist play list I created. The IV was necessary but Mac was there through it all. He drove me home, picked up my extra prescription, got me in the house and to bed and he stayed with me all day long to make sure I was okay. He made me soup and Jell-O.
I feel icky physically today but I'll live. I got through it. And this time, I'm going to work really hard to go to the dentist every 6 months for a cleaning and check up. My new dentist said he'll give me free nitrous for a cleaning if I need it until I get relaxed to have one without. He said it's his goal to turn me into a dental pro. He's a good person. Mac is a good person. I think yesterday he earned some "heaven points."*
So, now I'm just taking it easy today.
Nursing the hole in my head,
Maggie
*An aside---- a while ago my friend Lori and I were talking about crap we did and wished there was a reward system when we had to deal with stupid people or do stuff we didn't want but felt we "had" to do. We figured it was a way to earn "heaven points." We don't have a tight number system more just a catch phrase like... Lori: "I have to chaperon a field trip because the math teacher got the flu and couldn't go at the last minute." Me: "You just earned a ton of heaven points." Her: "no shit."
PS- In the above post I also mentioned that I created a dentist play list. I did. I wanted great music to listen to while this was happening in case I didn't need the IV. Okay, I needed the IV but I had to be ready. I was in a complete conundrum about what to play. First, I didn't want it to be something quiet/soothing/calm because that is all soft music and I was afraid it wouldn't be loud enough to cover the scary dentist tools and tooth pulling sounds. I didn't want head banging stuff that would cause my blood pressure to raise which would then force the nurse to kick my drugs lower and then I might wake up and hear dental scary stuff. So I had to found a blend of happy music that was also pop/rock/loud. Below is a list of music I used as my dentist play list (and my dentist LAUGHED) when he looked at the titles... Google and enjoy yourself:
- Stacy's Mom- Bowling for Soup
- Almost- Bowling for Soup
- Like a Virgin- Madonna
- Hit Me with Your Best Shot- Pat Benatar
- Don't Stop Believin'- Journey
- Material Girl- Madonna
- Vogue- Madonna
- Bohemian Rhapsody- Queen
- Give 'em Hell- American Rejects
- Drive By- Train
- Toucha Toucha Toucha- Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack
- Note Ready to make Nice- Dixie Chicks
- Tiny Dancer- Elton John
- I Kissed a Girl- Katy Perry
- Hate Myself for Lovin' You- Joan Jett
- Hot and Cold- Katy Perry
- American Woman- Lenny Kravitz
- Whiskey Girl- Toby Keith
- Since You've Been Gone- Kelly Clarkson
- You May be Right- Billy Joel
- The Way you Make Me Feel- Michael Jackson and Brittany Spears
- Rockstar- Nickelback
- Hey Soul Sister- train
- Eye of the Tiger-Survivor
- We Will Rock You- Queen
- Little Red Corvette- Prince
- Mamma Mia- Mamma Mia soundtrack- performed by Abba
- Stuck in the Middle With You- Steeler's Wheel
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Good-bye Ms. Hepburn, Good-bye GreenBean, Hello Scout, Hello--?
Two years ago after Mac got his first job and needed a car, Daddy-O helped me lease a Black Chevy Cruze that I endearingly named Ms. Hepburn so Mac could have The Blue Goose (aka the Malibu). She and I had a lot of adventures over 2 year but alas, in June I was nearing my mileage "deadline" and it was either trade her in, buy her, or keep her for a few more months and pay 25 cents per mile.
Through much finagling, we (daddy-O to the rescue again!) I was able to BUY a new car; the best deal was to buy a new one rather than buy Ms. Hepburn. So I bid her farewell and said hello to my new set of wheels: a bright blue 2014 Chevy Sonic:
A little smaller than the Cruze but still a sweet car, and it's a BUY not a lease so no more mileage worries- which is great because as of today I would be over my allotment by 3,000 already! And yes, there is ALSO a keyless/remote starter! AND-- with this car, I can actually use a free On-Star perk and start the car with my MOBILE phone! How. Freaking. Cool. Is. That?!?
And of course the new car needed a name- and no I was not going to name is Bluey-- to whomever suggested that! A smaller car, a little sportier looking that Ms. Hupburn, a little zippier... of course I named her Scout... yes Scout from TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. Need I say more?
And after TheGuy had his accident last week, it turned out that his wrecked car that was a green 1996 Ford Taurus station wagon we endearingly called "GreenBean" was totaled. Good-bye GreenBean we loved you so. So... yes, TheGuy had to get a new car, too. Yes, 2014 is the Year of the Car at our place it seems. (Or the Year of the Car payments!). TheGuy didn't get a 2014 but a solid previously owner car... er... SUV. Sorry- it's NOT a car. Oh my! He got a 2005 Mitsubishi Endeavor and it's pretty cool:
It's good for us to have an SUV so we can haul stuff and to have leg room. AND to navigate snow!
The debate has raged on what to call the SUV. It was easy for me to pick a name for my car- everyone knew I would go classic film start of literary but for TheGuy it's not so easy... It's not a car and not really a truck. It should have a name. I suggested Yars, after TheGuy's fav Atari game. He liked that. Then the other night a friend and I were talking. She and I thought we should call it the Batmobile- his vehicle is black and the Dark Knight is my fav comic character. Then the men go into the act and before long it was determined it should be named after TheGuy's favorite comic book hero. So now the SUV is named Steve... Steve the SUV. Steve, after Steve Rogers who is Captain America.
Steve and Scout. Yup. (Between you and me, I'm still going to mentally call it the Batmobile!)
On a side note... I drove the Batmobile Steve yesterday and it's like driving a tank- or what I think driving a tank would actually be like. It's huge and I sit up so high and it was an all powerful feeling! Okay, driving anything after my little Sonic Scout would be huge and powerful but it was pretty nice to be driving along and have the feeling that I owned the road. Being the chicken that I am, though, since it was the first time I had driven the Batmobile Steve I took all the residential roads to work and back home because I was scared of what sort of power I would have on the interstate. The interstate makes me angry. Me in a tank and angry would be a bad combination--- sort Incredible Hulk-like... hmmm.
Now we can both drive with safe vehicles and don't have to try and share one auto. We have one with great gas mileage and one with snow power. I hope we're in a good car place for a long time.
Oh... did I mention Mac is saving for a car as well? 2014- the Year of the Car payment trifecta could be complete if he buys before the end of the year, too. Guess we'll see!
Drive on,
Maggie
*the pictures in this blog came from Google images and are not pictures I took. These are not pictures of the actual vehicles we own, just a mere likeness.
Through much finagling, we (daddy-O to the rescue again!) I was able to BUY a new car; the best deal was to buy a new one rather than buy Ms. Hepburn. So I bid her farewell and said hello to my new set of wheels: a bright blue 2014 Chevy Sonic:
A little smaller than the Cruze but still a sweet car, and it's a BUY not a lease so no more mileage worries- which is great because as of today I would be over my allotment by 3,000 already! And yes, there is ALSO a keyless/remote starter! AND-- with this car, I can actually use a free On-Star perk and start the car with my MOBILE phone! How. Freaking. Cool. Is. That?!?
And of course the new car needed a name- and no I was not going to name is Bluey-- to whomever suggested that! A smaller car, a little sportier looking that Ms. Hupburn, a little zippier... of course I named her Scout... yes Scout from TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. Need I say more?
And after TheGuy had his accident last week, it turned out that his wrecked car that was a green 1996 Ford Taurus station wagon we endearingly called "GreenBean" was totaled. Good-bye GreenBean we loved you so. So... yes, TheGuy had to get a new car, too. Yes, 2014 is the Year of the Car at our place it seems. (Or the Year of the Car payments!). TheGuy didn't get a 2014 but a solid previously owner car... er... SUV. Sorry- it's NOT a car. Oh my! He got a 2005 Mitsubishi Endeavor and it's pretty cool:
It's good for us to have an SUV so we can haul stuff and to have leg room. AND to navigate snow!
The debate has raged on what to call the SUV. It was easy for me to pick a name for my car- everyone knew I would go classic film start of literary but for TheGuy it's not so easy... It's not a car and not really a truck. It should have a name. I suggested Yars, after TheGuy's fav Atari game. He liked that. Then the other night a friend and I were talking. She and I thought we should call it the Batmobile- his vehicle is black and the Dark Knight is my fav comic character. Then the men go into the act and before long it was determined it should be named after TheGuy's favorite comic book hero. So now the SUV is named Steve... Steve the SUV. Steve, after Steve Rogers who is Captain America.
Steve and Scout. Yup. (Between you and me, I'm still going to mentally call it the Batmobile!)
On a side note... I drove
Now we can both drive with safe vehicles and don't have to try and share one auto. We have one with great gas mileage and one with snow power. I hope we're in a good car place for a long time.
Oh... did I mention Mac is saving for a car as well? 2014- the Year of the Car payment trifecta could be complete if he buys before the end of the year, too. Guess we'll see!
Drive on,
Maggie
*the pictures in this blog came from Google images and are not pictures I took. These are not pictures of the actual vehicles we own, just a mere likeness.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Belated Happy Birthday to...
...ME!
Yup, I had a birthday last week, (Fri. 9/26). It wasn't anything extraordinary though, I think, I always want it to be. My parents always made a fuss over our birthdays when we were kids, with parties and cake and presents, which was completely AWESOME and WONDERFUL... and I still wish that carried over into adulthood.
Though when turning 43 years old, it does seem a little silly to want or have a big birthday bash. I mean, really.
Age 43 is so boring, too. Not like 16 when you can drive or 17 when you can see an R rated movie, 18 when you can vote-buy lottery tickets and cigs-join the military, 19 which is the last of the teen years, 20 when you're no longer a teen, and 21 when you can drink... other than hitting milestones of multiples of 5, after age 21, birthdays are sort of blah...
It was NICE, though! Daddy-O came to The Capital for dinner with Mac, TheGuy, and me. There were presents. People wished me a happy day. It was nice.
And nice isn't bad...
Quietly aging,
Maggie
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
My new job in the Capital-Part I
I alluded earlier that I have a new job since I've moved to The Capital. Yup, I'm no longer the Librarian/Substitute Teacher/ Weekend Receptionist. I'm not even in education. I'm doing something completely different. Drum roll please............... Executive Assistant.
That's right, I'm the executive assistant to the CEO of a small computer company- we provide managed IT services to small to mid sized companies and do everything from their help-desk work to their server and network work. And I'm the assistant to the man in charge.
I'm here to tell you 1- is sounds waaaaaaaaaaaay more glamorous that it really is. 2- It really sucks 3- I miss libraries and/or teaching.
I do 1- love wearing jeans to work every day and 2- I like that my boss is in our office about 10% of the week, 3- that I am the one in total and complete charge of the AC settings in the office, and 4- that we're a small company so everyone but the Boss and me work from their homes, so I like being on my own.
I said I like being on my own MOST of the time, is a more true statement. It's hard to eat lunch alone every day so I usually eat a salad at my desk through my lunch and work. And when you work alone and you've moved to a city, it's hard to meet people and make friends. I would guess that most people my age who have relocated somewhere started their friend base through their place of employment and I don't have that. It can be lonely sometimes.
My office is on the 13th floor of a high rise on the north side of the city. It has a nice view and the people who manage my building are nice. I like to look out the window when it was snowing last spring- it was like being inside of a snowglobe! Being on 13 is scary, I must admit. Oh stupid superstitions! One day the elevator was out and walking down 13 flights was NOT fun! And at the beginning of the summer, when the Capital (as most of the state) was having a huge tornado scare, it was frightening to be in a stairwell. But the view is lovely.
I hate my commute. I *insert f-word here* HATE HATE HATE my commute. I live 17 miles away but it takes me about 45-50 minutes in rush hour traffic to get to the office. It sucks. It beyond sucks. And that's going to and coming home from work, both. I can't win. I spend almost 2 hours a day on the road. I HATE that. Have a I mentioned I hate my commute? Maybe if I liked my job better I wouldn't mind it so much. Or if I made better money? I do listen to lots of audio books, NPR, and I treated myself to a subscription to XM radio.
Really, my boss is super nice. He's a brilliant guy, a big thinker. He never treats me like an idiot as I learn the ropes. He is a GOOD PERSON, which I'm learning is a rare thing.
Being his personal assistant has a funky job description. Many of you might remember the running gag in the TV show FRIENDS about Chandler or in HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER about Barney- what the heck did they do for a living? Even their friends weren't sure! I'm that person now. My friends know my job title and what sort of company I work for but don't know what I do. When people ask me what I do, my first reply is usually a pregnant pause followed by, "Weeeellll... it's complicated." I do answer his phone, manage all his emails and his calendar, and I open all the mail. After that it gets tricky. I write proposals for new clients and renewals for current clients. I also have many projects I'm working on; my Boss has these "visions" of things he'd like the company to do but the research/legwork/set up falls to me. I've r-re-written our company handbook and I've set policy. I'm working on a company wide "best practices" document for employees and a training manual. I've written job descriptions and updated our onboarding policy. I renew all software licenses for our clients. I actually do some customer service work for finicky clients. I planned an luncheon so we could sell a multi-million dollar project (we haven't sold it yet but the Boss is in mad amounts of meetings over it. I guess these things take time!). As you can see, I do a lot of stuff, all over the place (One day I dropped my boss's car off at the garage for an oil change and once I hired a tree trimmer for his house. I also schedule his doctor appointments. And buy wine for his wife.)
I like the guy I work for. I don't like the job really, because I miss teaching and libraries. As far as being able to do either of those jobs, I'm back to square one. Yes, I need to either go to library school or take the stupid state exams to teach.
The other problem with my job is that our company is young and we don't make a lot of money. We're growing slowly and getting in a position to either make money or close the doors, I would guess. When I was hired, I was told in 90 days I would be evaluated and then made salary. I took this job with a very, very low hourly rate (barley more than minimum wage). I worked by proverbial ass off the first 90 days. I didn't know anything about the industry so I did a lot of homework at night, on my own, just to be able to keep my head above water. I worked a lot of overtime. At the end of 90 days, my eval was pushed to 120 days. I finally forced the issue and my boss said I was great, wonderful, best assistant every but right now he had no money to give me a raise and he was sorry. I told him I was going to look for another job. I held my breath because I thought he might just let me go but he said he understood but doesn't want me to go so now he's scrambling to find money. I have no health insurance and the paid vacation benefits suck. The whole situation really sucks, to be honest. But I need to make a living and I want insurance. (I applied for 2 jobs and both called me with a desire to interview and neither had insurance so I turned the interviews down. I'm not wasting my time).
So I'm in the Capital, employed, but looking for a new job.... again. That's why this post is a Part I title- part 2 will be the NEXT new job. Whatever that may be!
Maggie
That's right, I'm the executive assistant to the CEO of a small computer company- we provide managed IT services to small to mid sized companies and do everything from their help-desk work to their server and network work. And I'm the assistant to the man in charge.
I'm here to tell you 1- is sounds waaaaaaaaaaaay more glamorous that it really is. 2- It really sucks 3- I miss libraries and/or teaching.
I do 1- love wearing jeans to work every day and 2- I like that my boss is in our office about 10% of the week, 3- that I am the one in total and complete charge of the AC settings in the office, and 4- that we're a small company so everyone but the Boss and me work from their homes, so I like being on my own.
I said I like being on my own MOST of the time, is a more true statement. It's hard to eat lunch alone every day so I usually eat a salad at my desk through my lunch and work. And when you work alone and you've moved to a city, it's hard to meet people and make friends. I would guess that most people my age who have relocated somewhere started their friend base through their place of employment and I don't have that. It can be lonely sometimes.
My office is on the 13th floor of a high rise on the north side of the city. It has a nice view and the people who manage my building are nice. I like to look out the window when it was snowing last spring- it was like being inside of a snowglobe! Being on 13 is scary, I must admit. Oh stupid superstitions! One day the elevator was out and walking down 13 flights was NOT fun! And at the beginning of the summer, when the Capital (as most of the state) was having a huge tornado scare, it was frightening to be in a stairwell. But the view is lovely.
I hate my commute. I *insert f-word here* HATE HATE HATE my commute. I live 17 miles away but it takes me about 45-50 minutes in rush hour traffic to get to the office. It sucks. It beyond sucks. And that's going to and coming home from work, both. I can't win. I spend almost 2 hours a day on the road. I HATE that. Have a I mentioned I hate my commute? Maybe if I liked my job better I wouldn't mind it so much. Or if I made better money? I do listen to lots of audio books, NPR, and I treated myself to a subscription to XM radio.
Really, my boss is super nice. He's a brilliant guy, a big thinker. He never treats me like an idiot as I learn the ropes. He is a GOOD PERSON, which I'm learning is a rare thing.
Being his personal assistant has a funky job description. Many of you might remember the running gag in the TV show FRIENDS about Chandler or in HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER about Barney- what the heck did they do for a living? Even their friends weren't sure! I'm that person now. My friends know my job title and what sort of company I work for but don't know what I do. When people ask me what I do, my first reply is usually a pregnant pause followed by, "Weeeellll... it's complicated." I do answer his phone, manage all his emails and his calendar, and I open all the mail. After that it gets tricky. I write proposals for new clients and renewals for current clients. I also have many projects I'm working on; my Boss has these "visions" of things he'd like the company to do but the research/legwork/set up falls to me. I've r-re-written our company handbook and I've set policy. I'm working on a company wide "best practices" document for employees and a training manual. I've written job descriptions and updated our onboarding policy. I renew all software licenses for our clients. I actually do some customer service work for finicky clients. I planned an luncheon so we could sell a multi-million dollar project (we haven't sold it yet but the Boss is in mad amounts of meetings over it. I guess these things take time!). As you can see, I do a lot of stuff, all over the place (One day I dropped my boss's car off at the garage for an oil change and once I hired a tree trimmer for his house. I also schedule his doctor appointments. And buy wine for his wife.)
I like the guy I work for. I don't like the job really, because I miss teaching and libraries. As far as being able to do either of those jobs, I'm back to square one. Yes, I need to either go to library school or take the stupid state exams to teach.
The other problem with my job is that our company is young and we don't make a lot of money. We're growing slowly and getting in a position to either make money or close the doors, I would guess. When I was hired, I was told in 90 days I would be evaluated and then made salary. I took this job with a very, very low hourly rate (barley more than minimum wage). I worked by proverbial ass off the first 90 days. I didn't know anything about the industry so I did a lot of homework at night, on my own, just to be able to keep my head above water. I worked a lot of overtime. At the end of 90 days, my eval was pushed to 120 days. I finally forced the issue and my boss said I was great, wonderful, best assistant every but right now he had no money to give me a raise and he was sorry. I told him I was going to look for another job. I held my breath because I thought he might just let me go but he said he understood but doesn't want me to go so now he's scrambling to find money. I have no health insurance and the paid vacation benefits suck. The whole situation really sucks, to be honest. But I need to make a living and I want insurance. (I applied for 2 jobs and both called me with a desire to interview and neither had insurance so I turned the interviews down. I'm not wasting my time).
So I'm in the Capital, employed, but looking for a new job.... again. That's why this post is a Part I title- part 2 will be the NEXT new job. Whatever that may be!
Maggie
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