Archive for April, 2008


Outside, it is currently a cool 57 degrees.  The sun is shining, and there is a breeze blowing.  I took advantage of some time off and took the dog for a long walk.  We walked along our neighborhood walking trail, circling a lake and strolling through a tree-lined path.   It was amazing.  I knew I had a couple of hours before I had to do anything, so I just set out walking, and never even checked the time.  The dog and I meandered, enjoying the weather.  This is how I’d like to spend every morning.

Get yourself outside and enjoy the sunshine today — weather permitting.  It really does refresh your soul.

(And tire a dog out.)


Curse you, Alltel.

So, I’ve been searching for a job. A job babysitting children, that I can begin sometime in June. And this job search, it has not been successful. I’ve had a couple of emails, one visit from someone, and two missed calls. 

(But, in my defense, I’m not trying too hard because I still wouldn’t mind some of the summer off.)

The missed calls, they are what have me fuming. You see, there was a lady who needed year-round care for two children, and she was in town this weekend. She emailed me late Friday night and said she would be around for part of the day on Saturday, and could we meet? So I emailed her with my cell phone number and told her I would be running errands, but to just give me a call and we’d get together.

And then I went through the rest of the day wondering why she hadn’t called me back. Hmmm, I thought, I guess she’s just busy and hadn’t gotten my email.

Then, at around 7:30 PM, my phone beeps. It is beeping the little beep it makes when I have voicemail. And upon checking my phone, I realize that I have two voicemail messages. Voicemail messages from 10:15 AM. Voicemail messages from the lady I was supposed to get together with earlier.  But my phone, it never rang.  I mean, it did ring, but it was my husband calling, and not the lady I was waiting for a call from.  The phone never rang for her calls.


And I haven’t heard from her since.


(But I’m taking my friend Sara’s words to heart : maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. And I’m not stressing, because we’re getting money from the economic stimulus* thing, so we will still be able to eat. And that’s always good.)

*I do not want this. If you had asked me if it was a good idea, I’d say NO. But I’ll take the money, especially since it’s coming — whether I want it or not.

Need more Helmet.

I heard Helmet’s Unsung on the radio the other day, and I realized that it had been too long since I had heard it last.  I consider it one of the classics, and I really should have it available to listen to more often.

A quick trip to YouTube showed me that Unsung is on Guitar Hero, and since I am one of the four people who do not have Guitar Hero — the other three being my husband, my daughter, and my son — I didn’t know that you may have already gotten your fill of Unsung.  But, you know, whatever.  I still like it.

Once upon a time, I had a crush on one of the guys from Helmet.  But don’t ask me which one, because now that I am an old, suburban mom of two and also a fuddy-duddy and a geek, they all look the same to me.  I’d let you watch their video and maybe guess which one it was I found so irresistible, but I couldn’t find a video to embed.  Instead, I found this, which is really for my husband and son.  I mean, who else likes Naruto so much?  (Besides the entire country of Japan, of course.)

Have a good weekend!

Today’s lesson, courtesy of E and Paint.

I have some information for everyone.  Well, specifically, the person who was driving the black Chevrolet Monte Carlo on Hwy 70 this morning, but I think it also applies to some other people, so I will share.

Okay, here goes…

When you are making a u-turn — even on a green arrow — you must yield to the people who are making a right turn.  You see, they, too, have a green arrow.  Yes, you both have a green arrow.  It can be confusing, I know.  I know.  But the people making a right turn have the right-away. 

Here, let me give you a visual so you may better understand what I’m saying. If you are the red car, you must wait until the blue car has finished turning before you can turn. Well, unless you are just going to turn left. Then, and only then, you can proceed without yielding. Otherwise, you must YIELD. (Which means slow down or even stop, in case you didn’t know.)

So you, you in the Monte Carlo, have no right to give the lady in the Toyota the finger when she has to slam on her brakes because you are making a u-turn and do not even yield or slow down in the slightest.  You HAVE NO RIGHT.

Let me also say that I understand your lack of driving knowledge can be an honest mistake.  You just didn’t know.  Or maybe you once knew, but you’ve forgotten.  And so I’ll excuse this kind of behavior just this once.  After all, it took me a lot more years that I’d like to admit to understand why two cars who are turning left across a road need to go behind each other and not just sit in front of each other trying to see around the other car.  Oh heck, I can’t explain it, so let me give you another visual.

See? When you go behind each other, you can clearly see the traffic coming towards you. And I didn’t understand that concept for the longest time. I know I must have truly pissed off several people before I understood the whys of it all.

So I’ll forgive the Monte Carlo person. JUST THIS ONCE.  But, really, did you need to give the lady whose actions prevented a horrible accident the finger?  


I spent a good part of my time paying bills online yesterday afternoon.  It’s amazing that with just a few clicks you can manage to wipe out an entire paycheck.  Just clickety-click-click and POOF! 


Also amazing?  One trip to the gas station and grocery store can wipe out the entirety of the other paycheck.  A weeks worth of work gone in a half hour.


This morning I dressed myself in brown pants and a leafy-print green shirt.  While driving down the road I idly wondered to myself if my clothes matched and I said to myself well, brown and green are together all the time, just look around.  And it was then that I realized that I had dressed myself up to look exactly like  a TREE. 


My children consult me about the weather each morning so as to know what kind of clothes to put on.  This morning my daughter asked me if she could wear a certain pair of capri pants and I told her I didn’t think she should.  I told her to wear another pair of pants because it was going to warm up later in the week and she might want to wear those pants then, so she should save them.  She then started in with the whining and whys.  And being her mother, I knew that it was only going to get worse.  I may not understand what makes my daughter tick, but I sure do understand her patterns of behavior and I knew the whining was just the prelude to a giant crying-fest.  So in my defense, I knew that what was coming next and I had already jumped there in my mind.  I say that so maybe you’ll understand why I screamed, “Wear the gosh darned* capris!” when she hadn’t even launched into a full fledged fit yet.  She was a little shocked that I had yelled.  I just skipped right over step one and step two — the repeating of directions and the stern warning — and went right into the mom freak-out stage. 

And did she wear the capris?  No.  Instead she wore the jeans that are too small and have a hole in the knee.  I think she figured I would tell her to go change and then she would tell me she had nothing but the capris to wear.  But, instead, I sent her to school in the jeans. 

I’m all about being unpredictable today.

* I didn’t really say gosh darned.  I said something much worse.  And I’m not proud of it.


I’ve been trying to get in touch with a lady at the kids’ school.  And after repeated messages she finally returned my phone call this morning.  Of course, it would be the one morning I forgot to bring my cell phone with me.  So I called her back.  And left a message.


The dog courtesy station (AKA poop trashcan) in our neighborhood was out of the poop bags it normally stocks this morning.  So I had to use a plastic grocery bag.  All well and good.  Until, that is, I reached down and picked the poop up and felt something warm and squishy touch my bare skin.  The darn bag a hole in it.  And I touched poop.

It’s been that kind of morning.

For hire.


The people. 

The people who spoke with me about keeping their child. 

Those people chose someone else.

*sniff*  *wail*  *waaaaaaaaaaa*

They said they interviewed someone who had 2 children closer to their child’s age and they decided to go with that person.  And while I don’t blame them for making that decision — I think I would have, too, were I in their position — I can’t help but feel like they just said I wasn’t good enough to watch over their child.  It feels like a blatant rejection of my skills and personality.  And I feel so awful about it!

Part of me — the rational part — knows that they made the right decision for their family, but another part of me — the wholly irrational part — wants to call them up, or maybe go to their house, with a posse of personal references so I can convince them that I am very good at what I do.  I want to have them see that I am just what they need, gosh darn it.  I want them to beg me to watch their child because OMG WHO WOULDN’T WANT TO HAVE THEIR CHILD TAKEN CARE OF SO WELL?! 

(Don’t worry.  I won’t do any of that.  Because I feel like a scary stalker babysitter who won’t take no for an answer is not necessarily someone other people would want to hire.  You know…I just get the feeling it wouldn’t be good.)

So I’m back to square one.

Ugh. Jobs.

I just spoke with someone about the possibility of keeping their child once my current gig is over with.  And let me tell you, I hate doing this kind of thing.  I hate searching for a job.  I hate being interviewed.

I see it as such a personal thing, this whole job interview process.  And if they don’t choose to hire me I see at as a personal rejection.  Sometimes, it is a very personal rejection.  They may not like me.  (I know, I know — who wouldn’t like ME?)  Or maybe the decision is not something personal at all, but based more on something such as location or money.  But still, I don’t take rejection well.

I worry so much about making a good impression.  I mean, how do you convey such things as how responsible you are, how much you love children, how really good you are at being a caretaker?   How do you say choose me, choose me without actually jumping up and down and literally saying it?  How?!? 

Oh, and the whole money thing is particularly excruciating for me.  When faced with the “how much do you charge” question, I totally freeze up.  I low balled myself last time around, and this time I think I may have gotten the rate just right.  But I don’t know what this person can afford, and I hope I didn’t just completely scare them off.  Because, honestly, if it came down to me working for less or not working at all, I may just be willing to work for Doritos and a few shiny trinkets.