Cutest thing I saw all year

...and I'm NOT a Backstreet Boys fanatic.

I'd bring this bird home with me in a heartbeat. SO CUTE!!



The best part is his bow at the end. What a showman!

I'm NEVER Sleeping Again!!

By setting this goal, I've guaranteed myself that I'll never have a repeat of last night's horribly unsettling nightmare from hell dream.

I won't go into details. Partially because I wish no one to ever know about the horrible visions that haunted my rest. But also because I hope that the images I currently have will somehow fade over time and become as if they had never happened.

But I really must say that it disturbs me that I dream about my co-workers having sex with each other. It really does. Thank GOODNESS I only saw them prepare for sex and never actually had to witness the bumping of the uglies.

Blah!!


Ms.B

p.s. Mischief, you don't even want to know, I promise!!

Wouldn't you know it

Two of our three staff-targeting caseworkers spoke with the psychologist, Dr. G., on Friday about getting "Letters of Recommendation".

Perhaps for school, but also maybe, for new job opportunities?

Merry Christmas!

Ironically, I've gotten along swimmingly with the people in that office ever since I decided to be sappy sweet and ignore the drama. What they say about me (and others) behind closed doors, I have no clue. But at least there is a professional relationship there now where none existed before. And at the end of the day, that is all that really matters.

It will be interesting to see what develops from this though.

*begins the long wait*

Ms.B

Happy Christmas

Since the family came over last night for the yearly festivities, today was rather quiet and uneventful.

BLISS!

Hope everyone has had a wonderful holiday season! I can't believe that 2007 is almost gone. Wow


Ms.B

You really do learn something new every day

Today, for example, it was discovered that Gus is able to hold an entire (un-peeled) orange in his mouth. More interestingly, he loves to eat orange segments. Not sure how healthy they are for him but I suppose they can't do much more damage than the romain lettuce did last Friday. He's certainly not on his way to being a vegetarian, but he is discovering the new flavors of life.

I realize I share photos frequently, but an artist friend from my City of Heroes game painted us a picture of him and I really must show off her fine talent. To say that I am envious of her abilities is an understatement.


Ms.B

When you just can't keep it inside...

I saw a picture on the internet a few months ago. It was shocking. It was horrifying. It was disturbing.

Ever since that moment, the visual of the picture has popped into my mind at random moments. Each time I'd cringe.

Today, I finally could stand it no longer. I had to make Worm Girl Mischief look at it too. In my defense, she was telling me about a dream she had involving worms coming out of someone's back side, so really, showing her the picture was not a cruel form of punishment.

If you too want to experience the shock and horror, click HERE. Be warned that the image will burn itself onto your retinas and never EVER leave.

Regardless of whether it is real or a computer generated image, every sane woman on the planet should have a vomit bucket on hand when they view this picture.

Mischief and I are still dry heaving over having looked at it today.

UGH! Who lets their tittie get THAT bad... WHO??

Ms.B

Do they now?

Today, as the shift was coming to an end, Mischief spent some time surfing through "Homes for Sale" websites. I didn't realize what she was doing until she said:

Beautiful house, but there are power lines in the back yard!

I took a minor offense to the comment since she's been to the Haven and knows that there is a single pole in the back that has a wire running our power to the house.

I mentioned that after a while, you don't really notice stuff like a power line... especially when its back behind your house.

She insisted that power lines, the BIG ONES, were bad news.

Power lines give you cancer! she said with finality.

Then she went outside for a cigarette break.

Ms.B

What NOT to do in an interview: Part 3

The proper title of this entry might actually be: "What not to do if you want be asked to come in for an interview."

With the most expensive of all holidays looming before us, the number of applicants at the care center has drastically increased. Fortunately, most of the potential employees have been rather decent. Of course, amongst the good, there are also a few bad eggs.

This morning, for example.

I recognized the woman when she showed up because she had just called me on the phone about half an hour earlier to ask if we were hiring. She took the application from me and I assisted her, along with her husband, to the conference room so that they could sit down to fill out the papers. Half an hour later it was the husband who returned to the office and handed me the application which had been neatly filled out by the wife. Apparently it was him that was looking for work. (Strike One) As they left I placed the application on my desk and made a mental note to run it out to Mr.J, the Housekeeping Supervisor.

Moments later all hell broke loose. Mr. and Mrs. Applicant went moseying up the hallway, ignored a number of posted signs, and walk over the top of a freshly waxed (and still drying) floor that Mr.J was working on.

Mr.J: Woah, Hold on. You can't go this way!
Mrs.A: Well, we are new here and didn't know which way to go!
Mr.J: Go the other way. I'm waxing the floor here!
Mrs.A: *looks down at the ruined floor then continues to walk over it* Well, do it again.... asshole.

At this point, the stunned Mr.J began to defend himself verbally. Not sure exactly what was said, but its a guarantee that there were choice words involved.

A fuming Mrs.A then rushed back to the office area where she encountered the Administrator, of all people, and told him that If that man over there talks to me again like that I'll have his ass!!!!

Office staff then did damage control by distracting the woman and ushering her and her husband out through a more appropriate exit. (Strikes 2,3,4,5, infinity!)

.........

The Administrator wandered into the office a short while later and we had a good laugh over it all. Mrs.A took a card from me with my name and our company number shortly before she went completely insane. There is a good chance that she will be anticipating a call from us. When that doesn't come, I am sure she'll be the one to touch base. I can picture the conversation now.


WHAT I WILL SAY:
Mrs.A: I'm calling to follow up on the application that we filled out the other day.
Ms.B: I'm sorry. We are unable to offer your husband a job. Good luck!

WHAT I'D LIKE TO SAY:
Mrs.A: I'm calling to follow up on the application that we filled out the other day.
Ms.B: You crazy bitch! That guy you verbally assaulted in the hallway was the supervisor who would have hired your husband. Now that he knows you are completely off your rocker there is no way on earth he'll even consider contacting your husband for an interview. Happy Holidays! *click*

Ms.B

Sometimes it only takes 15 seconds to have an Adventure

The DH was in a silly mood. He ran around the room making "Weeeeee" sounds and riling up the dogs into a barking frenzy. I sarcastically told him that he was 'nuts' and that the neighbors could probably see him through the window. He glanced at the front window, which, though open, was semi-blocked by our Christmas Tree. Knowing that no one could see him through the tree, he dropped his pants and started jiggling and wiggling, his 'goodies' flapping to and fro.

My mouth hung open in shock and bemused horror.

It wasn't until his pants were once again pulled up that I pointed out to him that the window on the side of our house was wide open and visible to about three of our neighbors homes.

The horror!

Ms.B

Can't sleep

I wonder why it is that Friday nights are challenging when it comes to bedtime. For the past few weeks the clock has ticked away with no Ms.Behaved in her bed. Maybe I just don't want the weekend to begin... because then it will end. Friday nights are far to short.

Damn.


Ms.B

Mr. G's Nuts

Wednesday afternoons are the designated time for the weekly management staff meetings at the care center. Recent developments, upcoming events and resolutions are discussed with enthusiasm and vigor. Most weeks I manage to stay awake through it.

Today's meeting ended on a high note.

Mischief: Do we want to hold our behavior team meeting the Friday before Christmas?

Director of Nursing: NO!

*all those in attendance snicker at the swift response of the DoN*

Program Director: DoN wants to get out of a meeting, I can tell.

Mischief: The only reason I ask is that Dr.G (the psychologist) has a tradition of bringing a can of nuts to share with the staff during that meeting. We discuss our topics and the nuts are passed around the table and fingered by all the staff!

*all those in attendance snicker because Mischief said "fingered" in meeting*

Then came the zinger.

Program Director: If we could all avoid fingering Dr.G's nuts, it would be appreciated.

........

High fives were given. Eyes were full of tears. It took a good three minutes for the belly laughs to stop. Then the assistant administrator said she couldn't get the visual out of her head and we all cracked up all over again.


Ms.B

I like her

When the DH first begged me to bring her home I was annoyed. I thought we had PLENTY of pets already and I could not fathom the idea of another furry critter running around. She was feisty and high maintenance for the first few weeks. The desire to bond with her was non-existant.


But somehow, as time has gone by, she's mellowed out and she's really quite sweet now.

And she thinks she's a dog. Even sleeps at my feet.

Strange Conversations

One of the Housekeeping staff at the Care Center adores my pug. Every time she sees me I know exactly what she'll say:

How is my, er, I mean YOUR dog?

A few days ago she caught me off guard though.

How is your dog? I want to take him home and spend the night with him. I like him better than my husband.

I know she hopefully probably didn't mean it the way it sounded, but it still threw me for a loop.

Perhaps I didn't realize how much she really does like him!

Love Men Who Can Sing

Some people say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. The way to a woman's heart isn't so obvious, though many would probably say money.

The way to Ms.Behaved's heart is to sing like an angel--- and look hot while doing it. There is a new DVD rental option sweeping the nation called "Red Box". While at the grocery store last weekend the DH and I stopped at the kiosk and perused the videos available there. He picked "Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer" and I chose "Hairspray".

Watching the video did two things. It has turned my DH into a "Hairspray" fanatic. And it has me crushing madly on James Marsden. The man can sing. He did nothing for me in "X-Men" (He played Cyclops, for the record.). And I can't even recall his character in "The Notebook". But the guy opened his mouth and sang a pretty tune in a musical and my heart went pitty pat!

*swoon*

DH, I know you read this. I hope its okay if I have a mad crush on some random Hollywood type that is married with children. If you will pardon me my indiscretion, I give you full permission to lust after Jessica Alba, Halle Berry AND Angelina Jolie.

Fair trade?

Ms.B

Really now, It's been over 2 years....

Rain was coming down in sheets today during the drive to work. Horrible weather couldn't get me down though because, although cold and rain are not favorite weather conditions of mine, it is Friday. Friday, plus I had some fun music playing on the radio and a warm cup of cocoa in my drink holder. Happy day.

About half way through my 30 minute trip I was annoyed to realize that my cell phone was vibrating in my pocket.

Who the hell is calling me before 9:00 a.m. on a Friday?

I decided it must be my wonderful Daddy calling to give me an update on the new tires he has ordered for my vehicle so I risked life and limb to reach under the seatbelt and extract my phone while driving one-handed on the freeway in a huge storm.

WEEEEEEEE! FUN!

I didn't recognize the number on the I.D. when I finally managed to work the phone free of my pocket but since I'd gone to all the trouble of retrieving it, I picked up anyway.

Ms.B: (in a slightly annoyed voice) "Hello?"
Mystery Person: "Waa wah waah mrstchll,wah?"
Ms.B: "Pardon me? I couldn't hear you."
Mystery Person: "Is wah wah wah MICHELLE MITCHELL?"
Ms.B: *rolls eyes* *gnashes teeth* *composes herself* "Uh, no. This hasn't been her phone number for over 2 years!"
Mystery Person: Oh... sorry. Thank you!

*CLICK*


...GAH! Maybe I better change my phone number. Sheesh!! Except, then I'd probably get calls for someone named Frank, or Billy, or Joe. And I'd miss my long chats with Michelle's mother. O.o

Ms.B

Warm Fuzzies

Today the Program Director asked me to run an advertisement for staff in the local newspaper, which made me very happy. Running an add means that I get to call Paul.

Paul has been the facility contact for what seems like forever. Each time I call in to run advertisements we spend a minute or two gabbing about life. He knew when I got engaged, bought a house, and other such milestones. He gives me updates on his home remodeling, his boyfriend, and other adventures he's having. Once we played the "What I'd Guess You Look Like Based on Your Voice" game. I was surprisingly accurate. He was pretty close as well. Nice.

I've never actually met the man, and probably never will, but we chat as if we've been friends all our lives when I call in an advertisement (which is usually at least once a month.)

Though its smart to assume he has a good working relationship with all the accounts he places ads for I've always suspected I was a favorite of his and today I received my validation.

When he realized it was me on the phone he became very animated.

I've been thinking about you! They re-arranged some of the accounts here at the paper and they were going to assign you to another person! (Ms.B: *GASP* *heart attack*) I told them that they could NOT take you because you were a good friend of mine. So I am still your contact! Yay!

It just might go down in history as the most sincere and sweet compliment that any gay man has ever paid a married woman he never met.

Ms.B

If you are grossed out by bathroom humor don't read this post!

When I was in junior high there was a hilarious entry called "The Poopie List" that made its rounds through my school. This list of Christmas songs that I just posted reminded me of that old list. Wouldn't you know, it didn't take long to find it online. Pretty much how I remember it though there are a few new Poopies that have been added since 'back-in-the-day'.


THE POOPIE LIST

Bathroom Humor at its finest:

Ghost Poopie
The kind where you feel the poopie come out, but there is no poopie in the toilet.

Clean Poopie
The kind where you poopie it out, see it in the toilet, but there is nothing on the toilet paper.

Wet Poopie
The kind where you wipe your butt 50 times and it still feels unwiped, so you have to put some toilet paper between your butt and underwear so you won't ruin them with a stain.

Second Wave Poopie
This happens when you're done Poopie-ing and you've pulled up your pants to your knees, and you realize that you have to Poopie some more.

Pop-A-Vein-In-Your-Forehead-Poopie
The kind where you strain so much to get it out, you practically have a stroke.

Gassy Poopie
It's so noisy, everyone within earshot is laughing.

Drinker Poopie
The kind of Poopie you have the morning after a long night of drinking. Its most noticeable trait is the skid marks on the bottom of the toilet.

Lincoln Log Poopie
The kind of Poopie that is so huge you're afraid to flush without first breaking it into little pieces with the toilet brush.

Corn Poopie
Self-explanatory.

Gee-I-Wish-I-Could-Poopie Poopie
The kind where you want to Poopie but all you do is sit on the toilet and fart a few times.

Spinal Tap Poopie
That's where it hurts so badly coming out, you would swear it was leaving you sideways.

Wet Cheeks Poopie (The Power Dump)
The kind that comes out of your butt so fast, your butt gets splashed with water.

Liquid Poopie
The kind where yellowish-brown liquid shoots out your butt and splashes all over the toilet bowl.

Mexican Poopie
It smells so bad your nose burns.

The Dangling Poopie
This Poopie refuses to drop into the toilet even though you know you are done Poopie-ing it. You just pray that a shake or two will cut it loose.

The Floater Poopie (A Ms.B addition!)
The kind of poopie that is so buoyant, you have to cover it with three layers of toilet paper and flush twice to get it to go down.

The Surprise Poopie
You're not even at the toilet because you are sure you're about to fart, but oops.......a Poopie!!!

Blah... again.

Me no feel good. Me sick.

Stuffy nose.

Itchy throat.

Coughing.

Aching.

Watery Eyes.

Tired. So tired.

I are so, so sick!

If there are any independently wealthy people in the world that want to adopt a 30-year-old woman, please consider me. You can spoil me rotten.

And then I can afford to stay home on days like this. Blah!

........

Such is the reality of life when you were already sick for a day the week prior to this. I don't DARE call in to work for a few weeks lest they think I am faking it and get very angry with me.

Perhaps if I mailed them my snotty tissues as validation.

I received this through e-mail:

What better way to reach out to new communities than with these new age adaptation of some classic Christmas Carols:

* 1. Schizophrenia --- Do You Hear What I Hear?

* 2. Multiple Personality Disorder --- We Three Kings Disoriented Are

* 3. Dementia --- I Think I'll be Home for Christmas

* 4. Narcissistic --- Hark the Herald Angels Sing About Me

* 5. Manic --- Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Buses and Trucks and Trees and.....

* 6. Paranoid --- Santa Claus is Coming to Town to Get Me

* 7. Borderline Personality Disorder --- Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire

* 8. Personality Disorder --- You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll Tell You Why

* 9. Attention Deficit Disorder --- Silent night, Holy oooh look at the Froggy - can I have a chocolate, why is France so far away?

* 10. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder -- - Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle,Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,

Hmmm... For Christmas it would seem that there should be twelve...? Perhaps I should try to come up with two more!

Ms.B

.............

I've got it!

* 11. Antisocial personality disorder --- Oh Shit. Here Comes Santa Claus

* 12. Schizotypal personality disorder --- I Saw Mommy F*#!ing Santa Claus

And now the list is complete!

Ms.B

Blog Therapy II

Story Time

"Once upon a time there were four caseworkers. All four were talented, caring, and supportive of the individuals on their caseload. Alas, there was an unwritten rule that there must always be one caseworker in the office who was picked on and targeted. Two of the four made life a living hell for the targeted staff member, she quit, and then a good friend of one of the two was hired to fill the empty slot. Leaving a fourth, who had never before been targeted, who wasn't part of their clique.

And thus it was that the three of them hooked up and created misery for this fourth one, even though she was a hard worker who truly cared about the people she worked with and avoided the drama when possible. "

.........

PREDICTION: This caseworker will quit. They will hire a friend of theirs, again. But once again there will need to be an odd man out, and they will be sure to find one. If I was the one of the three who was dating someone from maintenance (who was un-approved of by the other two) I would be worried. I wonder if she thinks that far ahead or can see the writing on the wall?

Ms.B

Protective Mama Bear

Each year, for each resident at the Care Center, we have a planning meeting where we discuss progress on the goals that were set for the past year while planning new targets for the upcoming one.

The resident on the schedule today is the most challenging one our facility has. He is naughty and quite frankly our facility isn't set up to handle his issues. He does NOT have a diagnosis of mental retardation but rather one of TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury). Added to this complication is the fact that his mother is the type that feels that nothing is ever the fault of her prescious baby. She did nothing for the entire meeting but toss out excuse after excuse for why it was not his fault that he was acting so inappropriately.

In the past she has refered to our wonderful residents as "a bunch of vegetables" (!!!) and today, at the end of the meeting she made an insulting comment about the staff here at the Care Center.

I learned something today. It is perfectly okay for me to bitch and rant about the shortcomings of the staff here at work. Alas, if someone else does it they will endure the wrath of Ms.Behaved. *ROAR*

I managed to stay in my seat and hold back the outburst of insults that I very much wanted to hurl at her. I couldn't, however, keep my right hand from 'flipping her the bird'. Luckily the woman's head was turned the other direction and only a handful of co-workers noticed my little indiscretion.

Ms. Behaved has misbehaved.... again.


Ms.B

And the award goes to....

Today was General Staff Meeting. After an hour of blah blah blahing about stuff we've all heard before, it was time to announce the new "Employee of the Month".

Eva stood before the group and said kind things about the amazing talent that was our new "EoM". We all leaned forward in anticipation, waiting to hear who this glorious person could be.

She finally announced the winner and we all began to cheer and scream.

Upon hearing her name, Mischief's eyes got "..... this big ......" around and her jaw dropped a little.

In my head I was thinking of calling out "Speech, SPEECH!"

Perhaps it is best that I didn't since her first comment was:
"What the HELL?"


Ms.B

Pile of Crap

That is what I feel like today.

I fought a headache yesterday and prevailed through the end of the Orientation Class.

Then I drove home through a snow storm, settled in at the Haven, drugged myself up and went to bed.

Today, the battle is already lost. I want to puke, I want to sleep. I want to take a hot bath.

But I will try NOT to puke. I will avoid sleeping so that my sleep schedule stays on track, and our bathtubs are midget sized so I won't be able to relax in them.

Instead I will whine on this blog like a little baby, knowing that tomorrow will be a better day.


Ms.B

Hrmm...

I got carried away with my cell phone blogging but the posts haven't shown up yet.

*looks around*


"Pictures. Where are you?"


***

Secret Message for 'Mischief' !!

It's one of those days!



Picture courtesy of the fine folks at: boardgamesexpress.com

Ms.B

Turkey, for goodness!

Thanksgiving dinner this year was nice.

For the first time in 5 years my parents stayed in town and had all of us kids over for a real dinner. Each Thanksgiving prior to this one they would take off in their RV for adventures in warmer climates and leave us three kids to fend for ourselves. Last year DH and I played grown-up and cooked our own turkey and invited the bro and sis over to our place. Although that was a good meal, and made us feel all grown up it was so nice to just relax this time and let someone else worry about the preparation and resulting messy kitchen.

All we had to do was bring a couple of store-bought homemade pies. Yum.

Ba Humbug... again

There they are.

Every year.

Lurking at the front of every Grocery Store and Shopping Center.

With their stupid bells and little red bucket.

They want your money.

It's for charity, y'all.

Don't be greedy now.

Otherwise you'll burn in HELL!


..............

Is it for a good cause? Sure! Do I think they'll put the money to good use? Of course. Do their pathetic looks and "Happy Christmas, M'am." bring on the guilt trip? Mmm Hmmm.*nod*

Do I want to tackle them to the ground and beat them about their heads with their stupid bells? You BETCHA!

!!@#$%^@!!

Lunch today was from the local grocery store since the alarm clock neglected to go off at its regularly scheduled time this morning causing me to rush out the door, hair still wet from the shower, so that I could get to work in time to start another round of "General Orientation".

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! "

No time to make a sandwich.

I had my usual. Salad and fresh fruit from the self-serve area. The salad was wonderful. I always get a small amount of iceberg lettuce and then pile fresh spinach, cauliflower, mushrooms, cucumber, cheese and pulled chicken on top. Very tasty. I also got lots of fruit. Me was happy. *drool*

When I got back to the office I made sure to save the fruit for last. I savored every bite of it. Pineapple, strawberries, raspberries... NOM NOM NOM.

Until the second to last bite, when a rather rotten, vomitous piece of pineapple made its way into my mouth. I couldn't spit that nasty shit out fast enough. Thank goodness no one was watching me at my desk. It couldn't have been a pretty picture.

Just my luck that a lovely lunch had to end on such a "sour" note. UGH!

Oh yes... and....

I think it is safe to say that the DH and I have managed to convince each other that we are rather in love with our home and current location so the idea of moving to a warmer climate has been delayed. Not sure for how long. Years perhaps?

After all, why throw away a good thing in search of something else that only "might" be great?


Justification. It makes the world go round.

Where did 2007 go?

The reality of the impending 2008 struck me this morning like a load of bricks. Have I truly had this blog for almost an entire year? I realize that we still have a few weeks until Christmas is upon us. But it seems like just yesterday that the first blog entry was made and the process of blabbing about my thrilling adventures began.

And while I'm on the topic, where the hell did the past year go? My first year in the Haven. My first year with my puppy. The first year with our Granny dog. My first garden. The first... everything!!

I know it is cliche' to say "Time Flies". But honestly, that statement is true genius at times.


Geez!

What's in a Name?

Although I think "Worm Girl" has a nice ring, it has come to my attention that perhaps, to some, it might not be as catchy. After all, who wants to sneakily find their co-worker's blog and learn that the nickname which all 4 of its readers know her as is "Worm Girl".

And so, since she has recently started a blog of her very own called Random Acts Of Mischief, I am proud to announce that I will attempt to train myself to refer to her as "Mischief".

I suspect that this new nickname will be embraced by its owner far more than the old one was.


YOU SNEAKY WORM GIRL MISCHIEF!

Ms.B

It's that time of year again. . .

It is with a heavy heart that I announce the passing of our old, artificial Christmas tree. He was a good tree. Gifted by my parents when they retired him many years ago. Once assembled, he was a thing of beauty. If a pine candle was lit in the room you'd have to touch him to realize he was an impostor. Although he was old, his branches were mostly attached and he stood proud and crooked tall.

On a lighter note. Even though he is no longer with us, we'll always have a small part of him with us because we'll be finding his fake pine needles scattered about the Haven for years! :D

And so begins a new era with our new and improved fake-as-hell Christmas tree. DH and I picked it out ourselves at a local store months ago and assembled it for the first time last night. It is straight, tall and full. And even after a good, solid shake, the needles remained, for the most part, ON THE TREE!

Woa Nelly!

Ms.B

Fun at work on a Wednesday

My DH is crazy. But he is also very sweet. He brought me lunch today while I was working. Cajun chicken pasta. Very spicey. My eyes are still tearing..

Piss. Shit. Hell.

I have a favorite blog. I read it frequently. Check for updates often. I like it so well that I told Worm Girl about it. Didn't take her very long to surf through replies on that blog, find one from ME, and follow the links here to my Haven.

YOU SNEAKY WORM GIRL!

*eyes dart around the Haven*

Now I'm not completely incognito anymore! What will I do? Paranoia is setting in.


Yipe!



Ms.B

Pretty dolly. . .

This headless doll was our office decor for Halloween this year. More people commented on the doll than any other decoration in the building. Spooky!!

We are crazy. Plain CRAZY!!

My husband and I had a moment of weakness this weekend. We now have two new additions to our zoo. We are insane!!!

Yum

Thanksgiving is coming. Bring on the turkey.

Ms.B

Second Guessing

I am not sure if it is fear, foreboding, laziness, or homesickness setting in, but I am starting to become rather scared at the idea of moving cross country. I've done some research and it is possible we really could do it. But at the same time, I'd miss my family and what if I really hated being there? Thank goodness we're not making a fast decision. We won't go anywhere unless we are positive that it is the right place for us.

But how could I be so excited one moment and then so cautious the next? It's strange.

Could I really give up on my dreams so quickly when they are finally able to come true?

Or is it cold feet?

Ms.B

Bistro?

A strange site met my eyes as I entered the McDonalds Restaurant. Antique furniture? Chandeliers? A sign saying there were billiards and games upstairs? Food choices like "Create your own pasta" and "Gourmet Cakes and Pies"?

What strange sort of land was I in?

Of course, we were just looking for a quick breakfast so McMuffins and juice were fine by me.

But when did McDonalds become gourmet?

The Heavenly Sky

For the record, I am NOT a happy flyer. Airplanes make me sick.

Blah.

A good book for distraction does help though... And when I take four flights in three days, the last two are a tad easier. Even if they are carrying you away from warmth and sunshine and leading you to cold, bitter winter.


But Blah.

Whirlwind

Although boring to talk about, I've always enjoyed the low-key lifestyle I lead. Months can go by between visits with friends and when we at last get together there isn't much to catch up on. To some, this would be horribly dull, but to me its comfortable.

And so it is that I find myself a bit overwhelmed by the 'action packed' month I've just had.

The week following my birthday was quiet. Not much going on. Peaceful. A good thing. Days later I received a phone call that I wasn't ready for.

"Your Grandma is sick."

A trip to the hospital about a sore foot turned into a discovery of lung cancer that had spread through her entire body. Doctors gave her "10 days to 2 months" to live. In the end it was closer to 10 days than 2 months.

The irony of the situation is that for the past year I've been slowly preparing myself mentally for the grandma on my fathers side of the family to pass away. She is 92 years old and has been going down hill for quite some time. That my young (87 years of age), spry grandma was gone hit much harder for some reason. She passed away on November 1st, which was a Thursday. I took leave from work for that day, managed to force myself to go on Friday, then spent the whole weekend in a fog. I don't really remember much about it except that I was extremely depressed. Money is tight at the Haven and I didn't think we could afford to fly me out for the service. And her passing was so fast. Granted, she smoked her entire life and that cancer waited to take her until her 87th year was probably a blessing, but still, I wasn't emotionally prepared.

All my years growing up I dreamed of living in Orlando. Every visit we took there, I'd step off the plane and breath in that humid air and just get dizzy with happiness. I always felt so peaceful and at HOME then. Even in recent years, married and happily settling into our own home the idea still haunted me. Part of it was the idea of escaping the cold winters of the Rockies, I know. But an important part of this was that I would be able to get to know my grandparents more. To learn about them and see them as real people and not just the token grandparents that lived too far away to visit. With Grandma gone, my secret dream was destroyed.

That next Monday I gathered myself together and again went to work. As I settled into my desk, my boss asked me if I was okay. Tears welled in my eyes and I explained that yes, I was a little better, and that after Tuesday's memorial service had passed I would be MUCH better. He seemed to understand how I was feeling. I know that his own grandfather passed a short while ago and perhaps he had some empathy for me.

Minutes later my phone rang. It was my DH.

"I think we can afford to fly to Orlando for the funeral. I really think you need to go!"

The words sunk in rather slowly and I started rationalizing with him that it was expensive, and the animals would have no one to watch them. He kept explaining how it could all work out and in the end I was so emotionally overwhelmed that I gave in. My boss gave me permission to leave so I quickly tied up some loose ends in the office and hopped back into my car. It's a 30 minute drive to and from work each day so I had some time to process what we were doing.

DH found a discounted set of plane tickets online and I arranged with my Daddy for my 18-year old baby sister to house-sit for us while we were gone. She was fine with that idea since it gave her an excuse to take a day off from school. I arrived home, frantically threw a change of clothes and a dress into a suitcase and we were off to the airport. We arrived in Orlando that night shortly after 11 o'clock p.m. local time. As I stepped off the plane I again breathed in that sweet air and the feelings of being 'home' again overwhelmed me. We taxied to the hotel where my mother had booked us a room, and collapsed into our bed.

We attended the services (which were lovely) on Tuesday and had a chance to visit with family. I met my Aunt Nancy for the first time and got a chance to visit with her during a dinner at Red Lobster. It's always been strange to me that I had an aunt and cousins that I had never met. I briefly chatted with Nancy's two daughters who were also there. But what do you really say to a woman in her 40s who happens to be your cousin though you'd never have known it if you passed her on the street? All I could do was smile, shake hands, and say "Nice to finally meet you."

On my father's side of the family I know every cousin. I know most of their spouses names... and I know, roughly, how many children they each have. I grew up attending family reunions where I saw all these people and got to know them quite well. My mother's side of the family was always somewhat of a mystery to me. Far away... just names, not faces.

We went to bed early that evening and woke at 5:30 a.m. to head back to the airport for the trip home. There was no time for further visits with family. No time for a quick trip to any of the local theme parks. The trip was completely about my wonderful grandmother. And in the end I am so incredibly grateful that we went. It's a memory that I could never ever replace, and it brought me closure. It has helped my heart heal.



*************************

The visit also opened up a whole new can of worms for us here at the Haven. My DH saw the look in my eyes when we landed at the airport. He felt the longing inside of me during the entire visit. That Tuesday evening as we settled in for bed to prepare for our flight home he told me that he thought he might enjoy living in Orlando, Florida very much.

My heart about swelled out of my chest when those words left his lips.

Ever since we arrived home we have been assessing our situation and deciding what we need and don't need to keep. We've started going through the last areas of the Haven that were never quite unpacked and really focusing on the idea that we don't need most of the stuff that we haven't bothered unpacking after an entire year.

We've looked up the cost of homes in the Orlando area and are researching the job market. The DH has even contacted our realtor and our tax man about penalties and fees when selling our home. Turns out there are none if we can prove we are moving out of state and weren't just "flipping" the house for profit. With the market in our area very VERY HOT right now there is a possibility that we could make about $20-30,000 in equity from this past year since we bought the place. That would definitely pay for a move cross-country and give us a down-payment on a new home.

The idea that we could really go in the near future has my brain turned to mush. I've been wondering if we could be out there as early as May of 2008. DH called me this morning here at work and said he had looked up the prices of renting a truck to haul our stuff in vs. hiring a company that would move it for us. He also said he thought we could move as early as March. "Apparently I'm seeing this happen sooner than you are!", he said.

Isn't this supposed to be MY dream? I think he might be even more excited than I am.


Ms.B

!!!

I just occurred to me that my prior post is made on 10-18, AT 10:18 a.m.

Kinda... creepy? Or cool. Yes, very very cool. I assure you that I didn't plan that.

*insert ominous music here*

Happy Birthday to Me!

I want a cake. A gigantic cake. With all 30 candles on it.

That's what I want.


Ms.B

I am Woman, Hear me Roar

I was in the Jimmy, almost out of the parking lot yesterday before it dawned on me that Worm Girl, who I had walked out of the building with, was now standing by her car looking rather dejected. I rolled down the window and asked if she was okay. Apparently she had left her lights on and her battery was now dead.

Oh no!

Feeling a little apprehensive, I pulled into the space beside hers and we both opened our hoods. Then I retrieved my jumper cables.

Although we had the cables, I had never been the one to actually attach them and make another car "go". With all the courage we could muster we put positive to positive and negative to negative on our respective batteries and then, crossing our fingers, we started her car.

"Vroooom!", it said.

Never were two girls so proud of themselves. *preen*

Maybe some day we'll be brave enough to tackle a flat tire!

My last day

After today I officially leave my 20s behind. Although its not REALLY a huge deal, it is still fascinating to me. Tomorrow I am 30. THIRTY!! That starts with a 3. Not a 2. It's three decades. It means I am really an adult. Even if I wasn't married with a house and 6 small fur-burgers I'd still be an adult.


*sigh*


I think I will rebel and start acting like a teenager again. I never really did become naughty as a child. I was always behaved. If I don't have a crisis now, I won't get one til Mid-Life and that's just not fair, dammit!!

When Gossip Backfires

Every few days, the new dietary manager plops down in our office for a chat. He's a decent enough guy. Worked here at the care center about 18 years ago as a cook before marrying one of the caseworkers and moving on with his life. Fate led him back to us when Mr. PBM needed to be replaced and he's settled back into routine, now as the boss, and is doing well.

He enjoys our office because we are a friendly bunch. He is always telling me stories about his ex-wife, friends, daughter, childhood, etc. etc. etc...

Having worked here many years ago, he happens to have a few juicy stories about old staff members that he can tell as well.

And thus it was that yesterday he told me about a prior (married) employee that had enjoyed many a steamy affair with some of his old co-workers in the kitchen. Of course the names of these people rolled off his tongue with little effort and he was enjoying sharing the scandals.

It was not until he had finished his tale that I pointed out that one of the adulterous men in his story had married the SISTER of the woman he had the affair with. And that another of the woman's sisters now worked in our business office... and was married to a brother of that same man! Sisters married to brothers. How cute is that? (If you don't know the sordid back-history?) I also updated him on the fact that all three daughters of the woman who had this steamy affair now worked on the same shift here and it might be in his best interest to not share that story with anyone else.

Thank goodness I'm the only one he talked to. Double thank goodness I am not likely to repeat it... except, of course, on my blog where, blissfully, I am anonymous.

I wonder if he would have blabbed about this if he realized I knew nearly every single person he was talking about.


Ms.B

Sweet Memories

Sissy, Spooky, Fluffy (the 1st), Patches, Shiner, Sunny, Spunky...

My childhood was full of pets that stayed a while and then eventually were gone. Sissy the shephard mix stayed in Wyoming when my family moved out of state. She eventually died of tumors. Spooky, the black cat, had a run in with some nasty dogs. Fluffy had to go away when we temporarily shared a home with a family who's father was allergic to cats. Patches vanished a couple of years after we got him. My parents insist they did nothing to encourage the exit. He simply went away... Shiner was stolen out of our yard. Sunny and Spunky were very naughty puppies and went to "live on the farm" one day. Oh my!

But Jazz. Little Jazz. She was the 'lifer'. The long-term pet of the Turner family. The pups I had growing up were all mix breeds and I really didn't know much about purebred canines other than to recognize a Dalmation or Collie. When my parents came home with a little white and black poofball one day I thought it was a cat.

"What's a 'Pomeranian'?" I asked them.

Jazz quickly fell into her routine with our family. She was our friend, companion, and doorbell. Barked her brains out if she even thought she saw a shadow outside the front window near our door. But between her 'loud' (and annoying as hell) moments she was so sweet and loving. Instinctively she understood when we were in need of comfort. She knew when to leave us alone. She knew when we dropped a french fry on the floor. I suppose she was our vacuum too. If ever we dropped any food we knew "Jazz will get it!"

She passed away last year at fifteen years of age. My parents decided there would not be any new pets. They say the decision was made because they didn't want responsibilities but I suspect they don't think they could really replace her.

Time brings comfort and the lingering happy memories. I have a band of pets of my own that take up all my attention. But when a co-worker brought in her brand new (black) Pomeranian pup last week my heart went pitty pat and all my emotions and love for Jazz came flooding back.

Happy tears in my eyes.


Ms.B

Eat your heart out Mastercard

Buying your wife a Clone A Willy for her birthday: $40.

Shipping: $5.

Mistakenly having it shipped to your old address: Priceless.


...........................................

The DH had to come clean about one of my birthday presents...

Of all the times to send a 'package' to the wrong place.


Ms.B

How did I miss it before?

Everyday.

Everyday I pass the water towers.

Twice!

Once on the way to work.

Once on the way home.

It wasn't until today that I realized.

They look like a pair of giant breasts.

How did I not realize this before now?


Ms.B

New Toy

Playing the part of a grown up and doing things like having cars and purchasing a home has cut into my "fun money" for the past year. Luxuries like new cell phones are rare. Unless, of course, your contract ends and they need to bribe persuade you to subscribe for an additional two years.

SWEET. New Phone.

The Pantech 3Cb arrived in the mail a week ago. It's so cute. So tiny... so flip-phoney. Up to this point I've only ever owned candybar style phones. I hope I can keep track of this thing. It's so itty that I might just misplace it and never find it again! Maybe it will fall from my pocket and I'll vacuum it up before I ever realize its missing. HA!



The hubby searched high and low on-line for the face plates (since I had expressed interest in having the orange one) and could find nothing. Then he stumbled across a message board that had a post by someone who said they had purchased them at a local phone store. DH swung by the one near our house on his way to work. The employee there said they no longer sold the face plates. (AHH!) But then he wandered into the back room of their shop and returned holding a store display that had every single color on it. He handed it to DH and said he could take it for free. All we had to do was undo the diamond-plated, hard-as-steel flimsy screw that held them on the stand.

I am sure the novelty of changing the color of my phone will die down in a few weeks but for now its amusing the hell out of me. Orange, no green, wait, blue, or maybe red. Yes, today its red.

Any suggestions for tomorrow?

I'm over it.

Turning 30 years old really isn't a big deal. I know its not. There is just that faint memory in my mind of being a child and thinking that 18 was old! If 18 was old, what must I have thought of those who were 30?

One foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel, that's what.

Good grief.

I guess in this day and age, 30 is the new 20. So although I am still old in "child years", I'm still in my prime. And I did read once that women reach their sexual peek at age 32. Which means I'll be just fine for years to come. I hope the DH can keep up. He turns 25 in January (robbed the cradle, I did) and left his prime behind him long ago. Poor thing.

RAR!

Ms.B

..... !

It's October. This month I turn 30 years old.



SHIT.

Happy 2nd Anniversary!

Tradition states that on your first wedding anniversary you present "paper" to your spouse. And thus it was that one year ago, today, we took possession of The Haven. Our "paper" was in the form of a mortgage. Life doesn't get much more thrilling than that. At least not in my boring world.


Traditional Celebration of Year 1: CHECK!


This morning was supposed to be exciting. Our second anniversary. The theme for a 2nd Anniversary? Cotton. Traditionally you present cotton. Fun ideas that I found online suggest beach towels for an amazing vacation. Maybe new bed linen, attractive underwear or lingerie, a hammock, personalized T-shirt, cotton clothing or a cotton canvas shopping bag with your photo on the front. Alas, I woke up this morning in dire need of a different kind of "cotton".

o.o



I'll spare you most of the disgusting details although I must say:

1) I thought that birth control was supposed to help you "control" when this sort of thing happens. And BOY did it happen. What the heck?

2) WAH! Not on our pretty new bed linen! Why, oh why!!

3) I don't think my DH will eat gummy candies for a long time thanks to my comparison of them to something I found floating in my bathwater shortly after I got out of bed.

4) Bless the DH's heart for zipping off to the store in order to purchase the items necessary for me to go about my crampy, grouchy day.


Traditional, though unconventional, Celebration of Year 2: CHECK!



Ms.B

It's a Carnival! .... oh joy

This Saturday will be the annual Facility Carnival for our care center. Most years I've been up to my armpits in crafts and paint for a good two months prior to now. This year, however, there were enough distractions that I didn't take a look at what we had (and would need) until this past weekend.

My kitchen at the Haven is buried under a pile of wooden bird houses, etched glass ornaments and fake flowers. All waiting to be prettied up with color and detailed touches. I'm told I'm rather good at that stuff. Butter me up much? Every time I walk through the kitchen my anxiety builds. Partly because I know there is a lot of work to do before Saturday, and also because I like my kitchen table clean. Thank goodness it will all be resolved by Saturday.

And then I'll not want to paint a dang thing for a whole year!

Ah... HEAVEN!

Each time I attend a concert, I leave the venue thinking "That was the best show I've ever seen."

But really, THIS was the best show I've ever seen. I'm normally a fan of more upbeat music but Josh Groban was AMAZING! There is nothing quite as satisfying to the soul than a performer who can take their radio hit and reproduce it live in a fashion that is better than the studio version.

*happy sigh*

Prediction #1 came true. My ears are still ringing. Prediction #2 fell flat. The only person who lost their top was the husband of the woman next to me who tore his shirt off to get the attention of their friends on the other side of the arena. !!! Oh my! Thank goodness they spotted him quickly and the man quickly re-dressed himself. I almost died from laughing.

The crowd was already buzzing with anticipation for the show when a charming man with a killer British accent introduced himself and explained that OUR SHOW was the one that was being filmed for the DVD Special of Mr. Groban's AWAKE tour. That announcement was the one time during the night where the crowd went into a bit of a teenie-bopper frenzy. I expected panties and bras to go flying... and maybe even a pace-maker or two!! Yowsa.

But honestly, it was a great show. Josh Groban is a talented man that delivers an amazing performance that showcases not only his soft-as-velvet pipes but the musicians on the stage with him. I could gush about all the fun moments here in this blog entry but I have the luxury of being a little lazy and just saying "Buy the DVD this winter."

And just maybe you'll see me on it... though you'll never know. Mua ha ha.


Ms.B

*throws her bra on stage*

EEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.................!!!!

DH and I are on our way out the door to a Josh Groban concert. I'm so excited. It should be a good concert.

Prediction #1: DH will scream louder than I do at the show.

Prediction #2: I will be able to throw my bra further than he throws his. *wink*



Ms.B

1 more day...

until my VACATION!

*runs around the room madly while leaping into the air and clicking her heels*

Fluffy Update

I think in addition to removing her female bits, the vet also took out her "evil". We have a different cat in our house now. Still playful and pouncy (as a healthy kitten should be) but she is loving too! I actually scoop her up for snuggles and carry her around the house.

I wonder if this operation has the same effect on humans. I am sure there are husbands out there who's wives had the snip who could verify this for me. Hrrm.....

Pet Peves

* Sniffling. If you have snot in your nose, blow it into a tissue. Why try to keep it up there? Are you saving it for later? It's not brain fluid, people! Just get rid of it and be done.

*Gum Chewing. I know a few people who manage to enjoy gum in a tasteful fashion, but most gum chewers look like a cow with cud. And those who can't chew it without resisting the urge to pop it continually while in a meeting should be strung up by their toes, coated with honey, and left in the Forest for the bears.

* Have you ever been stuck behind the type of individuals that drive 10 under the speed limit because they feel that this makes them a "safe" driver? ARG!!

* The attitude that: "What I think is the only way to think and if you think I'm wrong you should just stop thinking!"

* People who have to tear down your happiness to make themselves feel significant.


Ms.B

Memories of Girls Camp

*Realizing I should have grabbed a fist-full of toilet seat liners before heading into the wilderness.

*Enjoying the energy and innocence of young girls and realizing that it really hasn't been that long since I experienced it myself.

*Decorating a pillow case with markers that have a 105% chance of washing off if said pillow is laundered.

*Hunting for Snipes.

*An air mattress that, without fail, goes flat 5 minutes after being inflated

*Sleeping on nice, soft rocks all night. Comfy.

*Forgetting my pillow

*The DH coming to my rescue with one he picked up at the Wal-Mart.

*DH also picking up a foam pad so that I felt fewer rocks the 2nd night at camp.

*Seeing some of the girls cook or do dishes for the first time. (!!)

*Never has a hot dog tasted sooo good! I normally LOATH hot dogs. Blah.

*Throwing gooey pieces of donut to a chipmunk and watching it do a somersault while trying to lick the last bits of cream off its toes.

*Packing up the last few pieces of equipment for the trip home.


....................

Good times, good times. I might even consider going again next year... if they dare ask me!

Ms.B

She doesn't want to talk about it...

Fluffy paid the price for a loving home at the Haven today. She's now resting in the bathroom with a litter box and a blanket. The door is shut so that curious Haven dwellers can not poke and prod her.

All things considered, she's great. She just doesn't want to talk about it.

And I am pretty sure she flipped me the bird as I was leaving the bathroom.


Ms.B

Nothing says "I Love You" like...

Back in March I shared my glee over the idea of Bampoo. Who knew there would be more shit inventions to come!?

Direct from Yahoo!News

Panda poop to be recycled into souvenirs

By AUDRA ANG, Associated Press Writer Mon Jul 30, 6:05 AM ET

BEIJING - Nothing says "I love you" like a photo frame made from panda poop.

The Chengdu Giant Panda Breeding Base has come up with a dung-for-profit scheme that turns droppings from the endangered species into odor-free souvenirs ranging from bookmarks to Olympic-themed statues of the animals, state media and base officials said Monday.

The facility in the southwestern province of Sichuan houses about 40 bamboo-fed pandas who produce less than a ton of excrement a day.

"We used to spend at least 6,000 yuan ($770) a month to get rid of the droppings but now they can be lucrative," Jing Shimin, assistant to the base director, was quoted as saying by the official Xinhua News Agency.

The products will be made at a local handicraft company mostly from undigested bamboo culled from the panda waste through a special process, Xinhua said.

An official who answered the phone at the Chengdu facility said the dung is "carefully selected, smashed, dried and sterilized at 300 degrees Celsius (572 degrees Fahrenheit)." He refused to give his name but said the products will be of all colors because they will be dyed.

"They don't smell too bad because 70 percent of the dung is just remains of the bamboo that the pandas are unable to digest," Jing said.

While no price has been set, he said the most expensive souvenirs will contain a panda hair — collected from the wild — in each package.

The 2008 Olympic statues will feature "athletic pandas performing various Olympic sports," Xinhua said.

In March, base officials said they were looking into making high-quality paper from the fiber-rich panda excrement, inspired by a trip to Thailand, where they found paper made from elephant dung.

The Chiang Mai Zoo in northern Thailand already sells multicolored paper made from waste produced by its two resident pandas. Making paper there involves a daylong process of cleaning the feces, boiling it in a soda solution, bleaching it with chlorine and drying it under the sun.

The panda is one of the world's rarest and most beloved animals, with about 1,590 living in the wild in China, mostly in Sichuan and the western province of Shaanxi. Another 180 have been bred in captivity.

...............................

Ms.B

Was he THAT late?

Today, on the way to work, I had another opportunity to play my "Crazy Driver Intervention" game that I blogged about at the beginning of the year.

Shortly after my exit from the freeway, a white truck began to weave around everyone desperately trying to find an open route so that he could speed. As he tore through the School Crossing zone, I thanked my lucky stars that no children were present. A few seconds later he was out of site and I continued my way to work. Only a minute later, I reached a stop light and waited to make my right-hand turn behind a few other drivers. I could see a white truck stopped along side the road up just around the corner and wondered if the speeder had run out of gas. As I worked my way up to the corner I noticed a woman laying on the ground, holding her arms to her body and writhing in pain. Two men were standing over her, one of which was talking animatedly on his cell phone. From the look of the situation it is pretty safe to bet that the white truck struck the woman as she was starting to cross the street.

I wonder if the driver of that truck still feels that a quick arrival to wherever he was going was more important than that woman's life, or the lives of the other drivers that he wrecklesly passed before he got to her.

I also have a sense of guilt. I could have done my intervention techniques and kept him stuck behind me if I had wanted but today I wasn't in a sassy mood.

I simply let him pass.

A Kitten's Life

I've often wondered what it would be like to experience a day as one of my cats, specifically Fluffy, our little wood-pile kitten. Her days are full of mystery and excitement. Adventure and fun.

She bravely comes in the bathroom when the scary hair dryer is on and stubbornly stays in the room while the vacuum is running. Seconds later she is startled by a shadow on the wall, swells like a puffer fish and zooms across the house to the safety of the cat tree. Heaven help anyone if they happen to be standing between her and that tree.

She loves her cat tree. My father built it for me years ago from some large tubes, wood, and old carpet. She climbs it all day long and sleeps in the little loft. From the moment we brought her home she figured out that this was the place to scratch and claw. So smart. When perched on the very top shelf she is eye level with my DH. Fluffy feels like Queen of the World on that perch.

She spends her nights with the other two cats, romping around the house and creating chaos. Her days are spent plotting the many different ways to attack the three dogs and her two people. We walk from room to room constantly on guard. Daily we see her ride one of the dogs bareback up the hall; Fluffy desperately hanging on as the dog tries to buck her off. Yee HAW!

If something is moving, it must be investigated. If it is jiggling it must be attacked. My husband learned these truths this morning as he stood by our kitchen table in the buff. OUCH! I bet he'll wear his underwear from now on!

I've never had a cat that followed me around and sat at my feet before. And when she battles with you she doesn't use her claws. Granted, the teeth are bad enough so there are no complaints. We suspect that she learned this technique because she spends more time rough housing with the dogs. She's never thought about using the claws when playing.

It's been interesting to watch her carve out her territory in our home.

People sometimes ask me how I can live with so many pets. I wish I could find a way to convey to them how interesting it is. Three dogs. Three cats. And not two of them alike.

I feel sorry for folks that don't appreciate the joy an animal (or 6) can bring.

Ms.B

Doldrums

The Care Center is full of negative energy today. Many employees are experiencing the "Monday Blues".

Who am I kidding? "Monday Blues" is too nice. Today, many employees are being complete bitches. I think I would even lump myself into that category, although, in my own defence, I was very happy when I arrived at work today. After all, today is not yesterday!

The mentality of "I'm the only one with problems, and if I'm not then rest assured that at the very least, my problems are the worst problems!!" is running rampant from office to office.

I hope I survive the day! I think I need a vacation!

Relaxing Sunday

With girls camp upon me this weekend, I got permission from my boss to work Sunday through Thursday this week. This way I can go up to camp on Thursday afternoon and not worry about being short any hours on my check.

Sunday isn't a day that I normally work but I figured the exception could be made and that I might even enjoy the quiet office and low-key atmosphere. With no workshops to get to no one would be rushed and chaos would be at a minimum.

Words can't even begin to describe how wrong I was to assume that. I was wrong. So wrong.

By 8:30 I was clocked in and happily crunch data sheets. The office was quiet. No one knew I was here. It was lovely. Alas, I reached a point where I needed some data books from the supervisor's office so I left my safe haven and trekked down the hall. I should have listened to the little voices that were telling me to stay in the safety of the office!! (Doesn't everyone have those little voices? Don't tell me I'm the only one!)

I never made it to the data books. Before I could locate the supervisor a staff member found one of our ladies, I'll call her "V", laying on her bedroom floor in a pool of blood. She had taken a little tumble while trying to get up to change her television channel. Oops! I was the lucky one who agreed to take her in to the Emergency Room. Before I could get her out the door they decided that I since I was headed that way already, I should just take another resident too!!

A short while later, my car full of sick people, I arrived at the E.R. It was tricky getting them both inside simultaneously but I managed. I even got them settled into their respective beds okay. V relaxed on her bed and dozed off but the gentleman, "K", was not as comfortable. Can't say I blamed him, really. He would have nothing to do with the gown he was supposed to wear. Surprisingly, he did allowed them to attach the heart monitor and get a reading. When the wheelchair came to take him to get X-Rays he excitedly slid off the bed and got right into the chair. Weeeee! Free ride!! He did well in the X-Ray room. It was hard to get him in the correct positions since he didn't understand what was going on but we managed okay. Unfortunately he wet himself while they were taking the films. Pee everywhere. UGH! I didn't have a change of clothes for him. I called the care center and spoke with the nurse about having someone come over with a change of clothes for K. He said someone would be right over... and they were. But the message of "bring clean clothes with you" wasn't passed on so they arrived expecting to help me out and didn't have anything dry for me to put K into. I almost went in to panic mode at that point. It had been a battle royal to get K into the large diaper and scrub pants he was wearing and now I had nothing to put him in for the trip home! The staff person said they'd run get something for him and left again.

V was still in her bed at this point. A nurse had come and numbed up her cut but the doctor hadn't yet stitched her up. I continued to sit with K until an orderly came and said that they needed our spot! K wasn't even discharged yet and they needed his spot! WTF??!! We moved K over to V's area and just as I got him settled, the doctor came to give V her stitches. With no aide in the area, he asked ME to hold her head while he sewed it up!

!!@#$@!#!

Have I ever mentioned the horrible phobia I have when it comes to needles?

AHHHHHHHHH!!!

But I did it. I took a deep breathe, kept my cool, and did it without the doctor ever suspecting that I was dieing on the inside. I was one cool girl!! (Thank goodness I didn't faint!)

Another staff person showed up shortly after the doctor was done with some clothes for K. No shirt. But at least she had pants and underwear. Since he was already discharge she was able to take him back the care center while I waited with V. A short while later I was able to bring V back as well. Hooray!!

With an adventure under my belt, I settled in to my desk to actually do the work I had planned to do at the start of the day. Or so I thought. Apparently one of the men who lives here decided, yesterday, that he was going to walk to his parents house. He has traumatic brain injury and has no clue where they live, but he took off for their place never-the-less. Two hours later (about the time I arrived home from the E.R.) the staff were finally sending out people to search for him and beginning to think they should call the police. The family was contacted and since I was in the building, the nurse counting telling me as "contacting administrative staff". I asked what I could do to help and the nurse asked me to notify the administrator and wait by the phones. The missing resident called his family shortly after and his mother called me and gave his location. That little turkey was 47 blocks away at a local hospital. He had walked there in the few hours he'd been gone. I was sent to pick him up and as we drove away from the parking lot together I tripped my car's odometer. It was six miles back to the care center. It took 15 minutes to drive there. How he walked that far in that little amount of time I'll never know. (I secretly suspect that he left a little earlier than estimated.)

I finally clocked out and went home at shortly after 7:00 p.m. I slept really well that night!!

I'm never working on Sunday again.


Ms.B

What a trio we must be...

It just occurred to me that I share an office with a woman who thinks she is full of worms, and another that doesn't realize that 12:10 comes in the a.m. AND the p.m.

Curiosity about what things I do that could drive them crazy in return started to build. I've spent the past few minutes tearing myself apart in my mind. I hope it was therapeutic and not detrimental to my self esteem.

1) I have a favorite pen. It is a cheap, BiC brand pen, but it is fine point. Fine point pens are the only pens I want anything to do with. I love them. Since my pens kept vanishing from my office I attacked my current one with the label maker. I didn't just put the label down the side of the pen. Oh no, that wouldn't do. I put it on there like a flag. ----And I have a nervous habit of spinning my pen in my fingers during meetings so the little flag whips around and around.

2) There are pictures of my dogs and cats hanging on my desk in the place where shots of happy, chubby babies should be. I update them frequently and share stories about them when mothers try to brag about their angelic children.

That is all I can think of. It is hard to critique yourself. Other than those two examples, I suppose I must be perfect! Yes. Perfect.

What's in a name...

For the past few weeks I've been worrying about my grandmother, Eva. She's always been a very strong woman but suddenly, about a month ago, her mind started to go. Paranoia rules her day and she has my father and aunts very concerned.

Ironically, there is a woman I work with who happens to have the same first name as my grandmother. She too is a little loony at times. I love her to death and am grateful that I share an office with people I enjoy. So please understand that I call her "loony" with love. :-) For a while I wondered if she was just losing her hearing. I tried talking softly to her a number of times and she heard me just fine... even with background noise.

Today I was talking to some people in our office about doing a facility walk-through (where we look for problems that need to be addressed) and I mentioned that I was going to re-do the form for them so they would be easier. Not 10 seconds later, Co-worker Eva turned to me and said "Did you make that new walk-through yet?"

*awkward silence*

Um.... no.

I left the room to look up something in one of the charts and returned a few minutes later holding a helmet. "Look, guys! I just found *Frank's helmet in the Chart Room. It's been missing for months!" Without missing a beat, Eva turned and said "That's a neat new helmet. Who is it for?"

Last week I told her I was going to the break room to heat up my lunch and that I would be back in 5 minutes. Since no one was using the microwave, my absence from the office was more like 3 minutes. When I returned, Co-Worker Eva got all flustered and said she had just sent away some potential applicants. When asked 'Why??' she told me that she thought I had gone out to lunch and wouldn't be back for an hour.

Just now she turned to me and said (and I quote!) "Is '12:10' a.m. or p.m.?"

(She was NOT referring to military time, for the record.)


Ms.B

*Name changed to protect the innocent... or guilty, whichever he may be.

ooooh....

me sick.


me sick. me sick. me sick.


Ms.B

I guess I deserved it...

The DH and I have a solid relationship which, I suppose, is caused by the fact that we could do nothing but talk on the phone for 5 solid months when we first met. Since we are both very avid phone talkers, it forced us to build a friendship without getting distracted by all the fun, physical stuff. I'm sure you know how that goes. Being together is extra special now and we don't take it for granted. It causes us to do all the mooshy, thoughtful stuff that newly-weds do. This includes walking each other to the door as we are heading off to work.

This morning seemed no different. I gathered my stuff up, walked to the door, and stopped to hug him goodbye. A hug and a kiss later I was out the door. As I reached the bottom of the steps, DH called out "Wait!" Thinking he wanted another kiss, (We're disgustingly sappy like that!) I turned back towards the door. "You forgot this!", he said. .......And offered me our TV remote.

What a punk!

Ms.B

Need sleep? Not me!

My bladder is an odd duck. There is no rhyme or reason for why it acts the way it does. Some days, I think it must be on vacation because it never wants to "go". Other days, I'd better have a good book handy because I'm living in the bathroom.

This morning, at 4:30, 5:25, 6:00, and 7:20 a.m., it woke me up and told me it needed a little trip down the hall to the bathroom. The first two times I gave in. The second two, I was pissed (no pun intended) and didn't want to leave the snug comfort of my bed. A battle of wills ensued with the bladder twinging and hiccuping wilding in an effort to get my attention, and me laying stubbornly in bed, not wanting to get up. The battle accomplished two things. #1: I taught my bladder who was boss. Me, Dammit, ME!! and #2: I got no sleep from about 6:00 on. I just tossed and turned, much to the horror of my DH who was laying beside me in the bed. Finally, at about 7:30 I got up and made my trip to the porcelain throne. Still very tired at this point, I managed to trip over all three of the cats as they each darted in between my dragging feet. At last I made it to the bathroom. Ah,.... relief.

I managed to get ready for work as quickly as possible but wasn't moving as fast as I would have liked. I shuffled to the bedroom for my clothes, only to realize that the shirt I wanted to wear was in another room. Of course, as luck would have it, the shirt I was planning to wear was horribly wrinkled and so I tossed it into the clothes dryer in an attempt to flatten it out a bit. Oh, and wouldn't you know it, I forgot to wash my socks. Poor DH. I stole his last pair of clean black tube socks. Hope he doesn't need to wear them today. (Shhhh, don't tell him!) I eventually found enough clean clothes to wear and put myself together.

After discovering I had nothing to take for a lunch, I headed for the front door. "Wait a sec, it seems like I've forgotten something... OH! My cell phone!" I tossed my purse, keys and bottle of water on the chair near the door and back down the stairs I went to find it.

At long last the cell phone was located, and its was time to go. So I kissed the DH goodbye, scratched the animals on the head, scooped up my purse and other items from the chair and headed towards the car. As I reached my vehicle I grabbed the T.V. remote and attempted to use it to open the lock. Wait. The remote? What the hell? Back to the front door I went only to find that it was locked. I rang the bell and listened to the dogs bark their brains out as I waited for DH to come to the rescue. I didn't have to say a word as I handed him the remote. I returned to the car with the sounds of his laughter ringing in my ears.

It's going to be a good day.


Ms.B

p.s. I hope I remember to do the laundry tonight!

Which Side?

My cousin, Scott, a published author, is a professor at a University in the Rocky Mountain region. Due to the nature of his job, he has a blog where he makes amusing entries, and shares his latest art work. The other day I visited his blog and found the following story. It made me smile.

*********

The other day I went to the doctor. As normal I filled out the health history sheet. One of the questions asked about family members that have had cancer. I checked that my grandmother had had cancer.

During the office visit, the doctor said, "What kind of cancer did your grandmother have?"

"Breast cancer," I responded.

"Which side?" the doctor asked.

"I don't know." was my confused response.

At this moment, my wife and doctor begin laughing at me and I have no idea why.

Then my wife said very slowly, "Which side of the family?"

**********

Scott was recently diagnosed with Liver Cancer. He and his wife are currently making routine trips from his home to a nearby state for treatments. It's nice to see that his illness hasn't affected his sense of humor.

If anyone reading this happens to be of a religious persuasion and could keep Scott in their prayers, our family would greatly appreciate it. He has a good chance of survival, but every little bit of support helps.

Ms.B

What NOT to do in an interview: Part 2

Interview No-No #4: Showing up to your scheduled appointment late. Very late.

I had an interview scheduled yesterday for 11:00 a.m. I've been fortunate in my work history not to have to experience the stress of the interview process very often. And I have never had someone sit me down and teach me any interview etiquette. But honestly, isn't it common sense to know that you aren't going to make a very good impression if you show up horribly late for your appointment? Yesterday at 11:00 the phone rang. "I'm just leaving my doctor's office. I had a physical done. I'll be there soon." I had no problem with that. I thanked the lady for letting us know. I gave the Program Director a heads-up that it would be a few extra minutes and then we waited. And waited. And WAITED!! Finally, at 12:30, we took our lunch breaks. Wouldn't you know it, as we were happily munching away, the bitch lady arrives. Not the best impression to make, considering that she was 5 hours late the day she filled out her application in the first place. Don't think we'll be hiring her... and we are REALLY short staffed. We need people right now.

(Side note: MOVE TO UTAH! We need employees here. It's a great place. Ignore the shit you've heard about the evil Mormons. They are wonderful people, and they only have ONE wife at a time these days. I'll hire you if you move here. $8.50 an hour is all yours. Just show up on time for your interview! Oops! I just said I was from Utah. Um... not telling what part though. Secret.)

Interview No-No #5: Run your yap during the interview.

Okay, perhaps that seems contradict itself. Two weeks ago a woman stopped by to fill out an application after seeing the "help wanted" sign in front of the building. She swiftly filled it out and left after I told her we'd be in touch. Over-all Impression: On a scale of 1-10: 10!

She stuck her head in my office about 5 minutes later and asked if her husband could pick through our garbage and take stuff home. Over-all impression: 3?

I called her and arranged for her to come in for an interview at 10:00 the next morning. When I arrived at my office around 9:00, she was waiting for me. Over-all impression: 2

We sat down, I pulled out my standard interview form and attempted to interview her. In the next hour I learned that she was on her third marriage, that her first two husbands abused her, and that she's tried to take the CNA tests multiple times, each time failing. She hated drunk drivers and forced them to stay at her house if they were drunk. She would hide their keys. (Good girl.) I learned that she had a learning disability and had a job coach. This coach would attend the first few months with her to help her learn the job. (No problem, we could work with that if she was willing to work hard.) She said that if she abused the residents we could talk to her and not involve the job coach. (RED ALERT, RED ALERT!) I'm sure her favorite color, foods and blood type must have come up too but thankfully I've managed to block some of it from memory.

My interview form still sat at my desk at the end of that interview. Not once had I picked up my pen and made any notes. This is because I never had a chance to ask any of my questions. Every time I tried to twist the conversation around to things I needed to know she just kept on talking! I sat there slack-jawed for an hour listening to her ramble on and on... and on.... and on....

and on.... and on... and ON! Over-all impression: -5.

*ahem* Yes, I didn't hire her either. Call me picky.


Ms.B

Tuesday. 3:30 p.m.

"LaaaaaaaaaaHH!"

Orientation is over.

DH loves me...

I know this, not because he rubs my back and shoulders whenever I want,
not because he cooks me dinner on a regular basis,
not because he takes out the trash every week,
not because he cleans out the litter boxes,
not because he brings me lunch at work whenever he can,
not because he gives up some sleep to help me fix things around the Haven,
not because he lets his hair grow long enough to curl (even though he loves it buzzed short),
not because he says cute, charming things to brighten my day,
not because he dropped out of a University, sold his house, left his family, and went through the arduous process of obtaining a fiance' visa in order to move down here to marry me...

but because he bought me a pink Spardel. I have a pink Spardel to go with my newly painted Pink Lenny!

Help me! Still waiting for my NeoPets intervention.

What NOT to do in an interview: Part 1

For a few years now I've kicked myself for not making a list of the stupid, asinine, moronic things that some people do when coming in to apply for a job at the care center. Therefore I really must take this opportunity to share the "no no"s of job hunting.

Bare in mind that the care center is a laid back atmosphere. We let a lot of things slide. Wearing jeans during your interview isn't going to bug us, although we do appreciate when someone takes the time to dress up. When something stands out as a really bad move, there is a very good chance that you aren't going to get the job. After all, if you can't survive the interview process, you aren't going to last very long with the crazy direct care staff.

Interview No-No #1: Calling on the phone to ask about the job and trying to do the interview over the phone.

I don't know who you are, when you call me. If you need to know something about the job that you saw advertised, great. I'll happily answer any question you have, even the ones whose answers are IN the ad you saw. No problem. But, by all means, do NOT start talking my ear off about your 25 years of experience and how you have 12 mothers-in-law that have special needs. I really don't care. I don't. Show up in person, fill out your application, knock my socks off in an interview and you'll have the job.

Interview No-No #2: Do NOT show up with your friend, spouse, or 7 children.

If you are serious about job hunting, show up alone. If I have to baby sit your kids while you are filling out the application, I will NOT call you for an interview. And don't think that the knowledge of small babies or an ugly spouse is going to make me pity you. I just pisses me off.
True Story: Last year, shortly before our yearly fundraising carnival, I had two women and 5 children show up. Since that many people would be a tight squeeze in my office, I invited them to sit in the Conference Room to fill out their applications. At that point in time, we had received numerous donations for prizes at the carnival and, with no other place to put them, we had placed them, still wrapped and bagged, in the Conference Room. I made sure that each woman had a pen, propped their door open, and sat down at my desk, which coincidentally is right across the hall. Minutes later one of the children shut the door. At first, I wondered if they were just playing with the door but when it didn't open back up after a minute, I walked over and unlocked it. There, inside the room were the two women happily chatting while the oldest child filled out the applications for them. The youngest two children had taken the liberty of opening up the bags of donated prizes and had removed them from their packages. As politely as I could manage, I shooed them all out the door and attempted to re-wrap the toys.

!! ?? WHAT THE HELL?? !!

Honestly, if you are going to have small children in an area like that, at least teach them enough manners to stay out of stuff that isn't theirs. And don't think that locking a door is going to keep someone out when they are the one that unlocked it for you in the first place. DUH!

Oh, and this story reminds me of one more no-no.


Interview No-No #3: Fill out your own damn application.

I love diversity. I love languages aside from the every-day English that I hear. I do. I once dated a guy with the sexiest accent. I think he was from Pakistan. His voice was Oooh-lala to me. I've even tried to learn Spanish, German & Japanese. Spanish in grade school, German in Junior High, and Japanese in college. Perhaps if I had stuck to just ONE of the three I'd even be bilingual now. (Instead I mix them all together and it comes out a mess. Doko wa toilette, bitte? Gracias.)

HOWEVER, if you are going to apply for a job, any job, regardless of your native language, be able to fill out the application by yourself. PLEASE! If you can't apply on your own, you can't fill out new-hire paperwork on your own. And if you can't do the initial paperwork, you probably won't have a very easy time in Orientation, MANDT training, or the staff meetings. It might help if you can understand and answer the questions in your initial interview as well. As luck would have it, two of our management staff are fluent in Spanish, which is great since it is the most common non-English language spoke by applicants. If you want to work in their departments, great. You can interview and train with them and they'll understand. Sweet!

But fill out your own damn application.

Ms.B