Wisdom from KJou. I love it.
It's regarding Pinochet and her "I'm Too Hollywood" holier than thou attitude that matches her Jackie O wannabe sunglasses. Just like Dawn, I wonder if she has any regard for the fact that so many people neither trust nor like her. KJou was ignored while trying to say hello. Friendly guy he is, and easy going. I haven't run into many people that don't like him, but the jury is in: Guilty as Bitchy can be charged for Ms. Thang. The list of "how can you sit next to that" gets longer and longer.
I was told promptly to move someone's visiting son from one of the offices since ***insert shit-eating dictator accent***I DONWAN HEARAYT FROM HIM. Mind you, no one called on Friday. No one even came in Friday. A bunch left early because 1) it was Friday; 2) it was 70 degrees outside. This poor kid comes in, doesn't realize his mom (from another floor) isn't there, and I have to get him to a phone since he doesn't have a cell. Not every teenager does. So, I'm promptly told to move him. Fine, I will. I've chosen to fight my battles wisely, since I am still job hunting. If there is karmic retribution in the universe, I will leave at the same moment this cretin goes on spawn leave, as KJou calls it. My other coworker will be stuck, but maybe that will give her the fire to get out. She's too good for that floor, too.
No one is steering the ship, so I will do what I want. Why should I carry the load? For what? A 1% raise, no thanks, and constant criticism? Puhhhlease. I bow to no one at this place. Not when none of them even remember Wick, Lou, or any of the good workers that got pushed out like animals to slaughter. So, in perfect Acting Style, I will pretend I am a person who cares. I will remember the lessons of Ruth Kossi. God bless her, she taught me how to rank someone out with a smile on my face. In the late 80's, she took Restaurant Associates (owners of The Rink) to court over firing her and won due to age discrimination. Back pay, damages, the whole nine. Go Ruth!!! I love that woman, and my god, what a skater. So, as homage to Ruth, I will act the part until I can escape.
I'm off to get cat food, and remember Karma has its own privileges.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Keep it Movin'
As Tribe would sing...
IMG decided to pass on my application, but the signs were there.
IMG decided to pass on my application, but the signs were there.
1) The man who spoke to me didn't even look at my resume and didn't know I was meeting him until I walked in. Unprepared = "I've chosen someone else already."
2)He sat with his arms folded across his chest. Defensive body language is never good.
I was told after only 20 minutes that they'd 'get back to me.' Dismissive tone, also not good.
But, I gotta tell ya, kiddies, in pure Piscean fashion, it's either feast or famine. 2 places called to see me this week, and I might have something next week. My cell phone's on "silent" since it's ringing left and right. All these spots are paying roughly 10K more than I get now, which is SUBSTANTIAL. If the karmic equator lines up the way it should, I will be leaving almost directly in line of Pinochet's spawn leave, as KJou says. Then this department would really go to hell. Which it should since I've been holding it up since we moved here. Payback is really a bitch.
I'm pretty happy that spring is here, and the cleaning has begun. Twine has been purchased to lug out all my piled newspapers. Recycling just ain't the word for it, it's more like the mass slaughter of trees. The Druids must not look kindly on me right now, so I will appease them. Dexter and Kashi are thrilled with the string 'events' going on every day. Glad to be of two-legged help.
I'm getting by with my severe lack of funds in interesting ways. Counting pennies is actually a good thing, and reminds me of my piggy bank days during childhood. Then my fingers smell like copper, which is kind of amusing. I've got a few bucks sitting there, maybe I'll lug 'em out this weekend. Selling old books at Strand is also keeping me afloat. I had no idea old dictionaries could buy me milk and bread. I've borrowed a bit from my 401K to cover a rotten rent check, but that'll take time to pay back.
Just hopin' and prayin' I get out of here. The spirits--on earth and above me--will help. I have faith.
I can't not have faith right now. It's too frightening.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Here Comes Peter Pagantail...
"Easter gets its name from the Teutonic goddess of spring and the dawn, whose name is spelled Oestre or Eastre (the origin of the word "east" comes from various Germanic, Austro-Hungarian words for dawn that share the root for the word "aurora" which means " to shine"). Modern pagans have generally accepted the spelling "Ostara" which honors this goddess as our word for the Vernal Equinox. The 1974 edition of Webster's New World Dictionary defines Easter thus: "orig., name of pagan vernal festival almost coincident in date with paschal festival of the church; Eastre, dawn goddess; 1. An annual Christian festival celebrating the resurrection of Jesus, held on the first Sunday after the date of the first full moon that occurs on or after March 21." The Vernal Equinox usually falls somewhere between March 19th and 22nd (note that the dictionary only mentions March 21st, as opposed to the date of the actual Equinox), and depending upon when the first full moon on or after the Equinox occurs, Easter falls sometime between late-March and mid-April.
Because the Equinox and Easter are so close, many Catholics and others who celebrate Easter often see this holiday (which observes Christ's resurrection from the dead after his death on Good Friday) as being synonymous with rebirth and rejuvenation: the symbolic resurrection of Christ is echoed in the awakening of the plant and animal life around us. But if we look more closely at some of these Easter customs, we will see that the origins are surprisingly, well, pagan! Eggs, bunnies, candy, Easter baskets, new clothes, all these "traditions" have their origin in practices which may have little or nothing to do with the Christian holiday.
For example, the traditional coloring and giving of eggs at Easter has very pagan associations. For eggs are clearly one of the most potent symbols of fertility, and spring is the season when animals begin to mate and flowers and trees pollinate and reproduce. In England and Northern Europe, eggs were often employed in folk magic when women wanted to be blessed with children. There is a great scene in the film The Wicker Man where a woman sits upon a tombstone in the cemetery, holding a child against her bared breasts with one hand, and holding up an egg in the other, rocking back and forth as she stares at the scandalized (and very uptight!) Sargent Howie. Many cultures have a strong tradition of egg coloring; among Greeks, eggs are traditionally dyed dark red and given as gifts.
As for the Easter egg hunt, a fun game for kids, I have heard at least one pagan teacher say that there is a rather scary history to this. As with many elements of our "ancient history, " there is little or no factual documentation to back this up. But the story goes like this: Eggs were decorated and offered as gifts and to bring blessings of prosperity and abundance in the coming year; this was common in Old Europe. As Christianity rose and the ways of the "Old Religion" were shunned, people took to hiding the eggs and having children make a game out of finding them. This would take place with all the children of the village looking at the same time in everyone's gardens and beneath fences and other spots.
It is said, however, that those people who sought to seek out heathens and heretics would bribe children with coins or threats, and once those children uncovered eggs on someone's property, that person was then accused of practicing the old ways. I have never read any historical account of this, so I cannot offer a source for this story (though I assume the person who first told me found it somewhere); when I find one, I will let you know! When I first heard it, I was eerily reminded of the way my own family conducted such egg hunts: our parents hid money inside colorful plastic eggs that could be opened and closed up again; some eggs contained pennies, some quarters and dimes and nickels, and some lucky kids would find a fifty-cent piece or silver dollar! In our mad scramble for pocket change, were my siblings and cousins and I mimicking the treacherous activities of children so long ago?"
as seen on witchvox.com
So that's where all those goodies came from! Which reminds me, I must rent The Wicker Man again. Haven't seen that in a loooong time.
Happy Chocolate, everyone!
Because the Equinox and Easter are so close, many Catholics and others who celebrate Easter often see this holiday (which observes Christ's resurrection from the dead after his death on Good Friday) as being synonymous with rebirth and rejuvenation: the symbolic resurrection of Christ is echoed in the awakening of the plant and animal life around us. But if we look more closely at some of these Easter customs, we will see that the origins are surprisingly, well, pagan! Eggs, bunnies, candy, Easter baskets, new clothes, all these "traditions" have their origin in practices which may have little or nothing to do with the Christian holiday.
For example, the traditional coloring and giving of eggs at Easter has very pagan associations. For eggs are clearly one of the most potent symbols of fertility, and spring is the season when animals begin to mate and flowers and trees pollinate and reproduce. In England and Northern Europe, eggs were often employed in folk magic when women wanted to be blessed with children. There is a great scene in the film The Wicker Man where a woman sits upon a tombstone in the cemetery, holding a child against her bared breasts with one hand, and holding up an egg in the other, rocking back and forth as she stares at the scandalized (and very uptight!) Sargent Howie. Many cultures have a strong tradition of egg coloring; among Greeks, eggs are traditionally dyed dark red and given as gifts.
As for the Easter egg hunt, a fun game for kids, I have heard at least one pagan teacher say that there is a rather scary history to this. As with many elements of our "ancient history, " there is little or no factual documentation to back this up. But the story goes like this: Eggs were decorated and offered as gifts and to bring blessings of prosperity and abundance in the coming year; this was common in Old Europe. As Christianity rose and the ways of the "Old Religion" were shunned, people took to hiding the eggs and having children make a game out of finding them. This would take place with all the children of the village looking at the same time in everyone's gardens and beneath fences and other spots.
It is said, however, that those people who sought to seek out heathens and heretics would bribe children with coins or threats, and once those children uncovered eggs on someone's property, that person was then accused of practicing the old ways. I have never read any historical account of this, so I cannot offer a source for this story (though I assume the person who first told me found it somewhere); when I find one, I will let you know! When I first heard it, I was eerily reminded of the way my own family conducted such egg hunts: our parents hid money inside colorful plastic eggs that could be opened and closed up again; some eggs contained pennies, some quarters and dimes and nickels, and some lucky kids would find a fifty-cent piece or silver dollar! In our mad scramble for pocket change, were my siblings and cousins and I mimicking the treacherous activities of children so long ago?"
as seen on witchvox.com
So that's where all those goodies came from! Which reminds me, I must rent The Wicker Man again. Haven't seen that in a loooong time.
Happy Chocolate, everyone!
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
$6.62
That is my raise per paycheck as of now to 2007. I got word yesterday. Given what I already make after taxes, this won’t even afford me a Big Mac.
For those of you doing the math, that’s a 1% increase. The person that told me got the same. Pinochet got more. As I’ve said, when it comes to Bag O’Rocks and the narcissists that agree with him, ass-kissing and a tight skirt nets more than loyalty, hard work, speaking English, a college degree, a news background and five years, three systems and two different locations.
I entered the F train en route to my therapist last night to assail her with this latest travesty and wouldn’tcha know it? A bunch of rich, white, overbearing executives were blocking the door. There was tons of room toward the center of the car, but they wouldn’t move. I shouted—as is my way—COULD YOU PLEASE MOVE A LITTLE? TWO INCHES WON’T KILL YOU!
Well, the rolex-adorned Nino Cerruti-ed exec turns around to scream back at me, inches from my face. How quaint. They don’t refer to my kind as the Fightin’ Irish for nothing, kiddies.
WHY CAN’T YOU MOVE? I continued. LOOK AT ALL THAT ROOM. YOU MAY OWN THE WORLD, BUT YOU SURE AS HELL DON’T KNOW HOW TO RUN IT. Two black guys, a gay guy, and a Puerto Rican laughed right in his face. At the next stop, I transferred to a different car. My face was beet red and my jaw clenched. Don'tcha just love the white man's principle? They stand there and the world moves around them. Kinda like this company. Motherlessbastardsonofabitching…
My mumbling netted me some room, but my glare must have been on fire. I quickly felt a pair of eyes on me and looked down to find a Hasidic man staring up at me from his Hebrew book.
“Are you alright?” he asked me.
“No. I’m not alright. I got a 1% raise today after working for the same place for five years and I don’t even see 35,000 dollars after taxes. Greed and avarice will be the death of people. Mark my words.”
Confusion and fear filled his eyes. Definitely a New York moment, however disturbing it was to those around me. I got off at my stop and proceeded to my appointment. Fury doesn’t begin to describe my feet pounding down the stairs.
For those of you who said it couldn’t possibly get worse, well? It has. It always does. I felt this coming, but I didn’t think it would be this drastic. I came in today after 4 hours of sleep to hear others that got only .5% or even nothing. A slew of people who asked me why I was leaving are miraculously joining me in my quest. So that’s what this company thinks of US? Oh, what folly.
In other news, it’s RD’s birthday today. I think I’ll borrow his famous phrase in my exit interview.
“I’m Done With This Place.”
Stay tuned, kiddies. Events will soon rocket into the stratosphere.
For those of you doing the math, that’s a 1% increase. The person that told me got the same. Pinochet got more. As I’ve said, when it comes to Bag O’Rocks and the narcissists that agree with him, ass-kissing and a tight skirt nets more than loyalty, hard work, speaking English, a college degree, a news background and five years, three systems and two different locations.
I entered the F train en route to my therapist last night to assail her with this latest travesty and wouldn’tcha know it? A bunch of rich, white, overbearing executives were blocking the door. There was tons of room toward the center of the car, but they wouldn’t move. I shouted—as is my way—COULD YOU PLEASE MOVE A LITTLE? TWO INCHES WON’T KILL YOU!
Well, the rolex-adorned Nino Cerruti-ed exec turns around to scream back at me, inches from my face. How quaint. They don’t refer to my kind as the Fightin’ Irish for nothing, kiddies.
WHY CAN’T YOU MOVE? I continued. LOOK AT ALL THAT ROOM. YOU MAY OWN THE WORLD, BUT YOU SURE AS HELL DON’T KNOW HOW TO RUN IT. Two black guys, a gay guy, and a Puerto Rican laughed right in his face. At the next stop, I transferred to a different car. My face was beet red and my jaw clenched. Don'tcha just love the white man's principle? They stand there and the world moves around them. Kinda like this company. Motherlessbastardsonofabitching…
My mumbling netted me some room, but my glare must have been on fire. I quickly felt a pair of eyes on me and looked down to find a Hasidic man staring up at me from his Hebrew book.
“Are you alright?” he asked me.
“No. I’m not alright. I got a 1% raise today after working for the same place for five years and I don’t even see 35,000 dollars after taxes. Greed and avarice will be the death of people. Mark my words.”
Confusion and fear filled his eyes. Definitely a New York moment, however disturbing it was to those around me. I got off at my stop and proceeded to my appointment. Fury doesn’t begin to describe my feet pounding down the stairs.
For those of you who said it couldn’t possibly get worse, well? It has. It always does. I felt this coming, but I didn’t think it would be this drastic. I came in today after 4 hours of sleep to hear others that got only .5% or even nothing. A slew of people who asked me why I was leaving are miraculously joining me in my quest. So that’s what this company thinks of US? Oh, what folly.
In other news, it’s RD’s birthday today. I think I’ll borrow his famous phrase in my exit interview.
“I’m Done With This Place.”
Stay tuned, kiddies. Events will soon rocket into the stratosphere.
Sunday, April 9, 2006
5 Long Years
Woohoo.
I've been at my job 5 long years. 2.5 of them good, 2.5 them BAD. And I'm still searching. Ain't giving up until someone some place PLEASE GOD something some company hires me.
But first, a lovely recap of my weekend, or should I say, lack thereof.
Friday night, I came home and watched The Skeleton Key in all its hoodoo glory. Great film, fabulous ending. Then, I went to sleep at 12:50 am. I planned on getting up Saturday, but that didn't happen. My alarm did not go off.
Kiddies? I gotta tell ya. If you need an alarm to get out of bed on WEEKENDS, you're working too damn hard. And oh, does my carpal tunnel still sting.
So, I stayed allll daaaay in bed Saturday. It was rainy, rotten, and basically boring. So, I said fuck it. I lay there like roadkill and was very amazed at all the wonderful dreams I had. I even wrote some of them down. I've also made a decision,given a certain Board Member's comments, a lovely letter about exactly what's happening at the AP. I'm going to--after I leave, if I ever leave--write him a nice note about what's going down the pike on the administrative end o'things. I'm sure he'd love to hear it. If Darius Hudson and other people as seemingly intelligent, hard-working and loyal as myself can get totally screwed, then he's the person to hear about it. He must know and see what these scumbag megalomaniac narcissists are doing to the company in which he still draws a nice fat salary, the likes of which I'll never see, so it's time for some colorful commentar from your's truly. In the way that I only I can provide.
I see great and frightening parallels between the bullshit arrogance and secrecy of the Bush administration and what's going on in this company. I didn't vote for these assholes, either, but I'm sure as hell stuck with them. The country I can't fix, but the job situation is quickly becoming worse, more abusive, less thankful and more like slavery every single day. I can't become lax in my fight.
IMG has me coming back this week for interview number 3, but it's really the first interview for a different division. That's fine by me. I will do whatever it takes to get the hell away from these people. If Pinochet and her evil spawn can take two hour lunches? Fuck you, you mid-western Republican assholes, so can I. And to think that they might feel that I'm on the same level as her? That's so insulting because I could NEVER be a cheap, ghetto version of hired help. I actually speak English, I'm from a news family (Dad, Granddad, Uncle, and two cousins), and I have two college degrees. I know for all time I'll never see a master's degree should I stay in this unrelenting shithole.
She thinks Detroit is in Ohio. KJou and I laughed so hard over this, I thought he'd fall out of his chair. Nope, I am worth more.
And that's pretty much that, kiddies. I'm off to ebay to buy toothpaste in bulk, since I'm basically broke. Again. No surprise there.
Like the old saying goes, You Can't Spell Cheap without
AP.
I've been at my job 5 long years. 2.5 of them good, 2.5 them BAD. And I'm still searching. Ain't giving up until someone some place PLEASE GOD something some company hires me.
But first, a lovely recap of my weekend, or should I say, lack thereof.
Friday night, I came home and watched The Skeleton Key in all its hoodoo glory. Great film, fabulous ending. Then, I went to sleep at 12:50 am. I planned on getting up Saturday, but that didn't happen. My alarm did not go off.
Kiddies? I gotta tell ya. If you need an alarm to get out of bed on WEEKENDS, you're working too damn hard. And oh, does my carpal tunnel still sting.
So, I stayed allll daaaay in bed Saturday. It was rainy, rotten, and basically boring. So, I said fuck it. I lay there like roadkill and was very amazed at all the wonderful dreams I had. I even wrote some of them down. I've also made a decision,given a certain Board Member's comments, a lovely letter about exactly what's happening at the AP. I'm going to--after I leave, if I ever leave--write him a nice note about what's going down the pike on the administrative end o'things. I'm sure he'd love to hear it. If Darius Hudson and other people as seemingly intelligent, hard-working and loyal as myself can get totally screwed, then he's the person to hear about it. He must know and see what these scumbag megalomaniac narcissists are doing to the company in which he still draws a nice fat salary, the likes of which I'll never see, so it's time for some colorful commentar from your's truly. In the way that I only I can provide.
I see great and frightening parallels between the bullshit arrogance and secrecy of the Bush administration and what's going on in this company. I didn't vote for these assholes, either, but I'm sure as hell stuck with them. The country I can't fix, but the job situation is quickly becoming worse, more abusive, less thankful and more like slavery every single day. I can't become lax in my fight.
IMG has me coming back this week for interview number 3, but it's really the first interview for a different division. That's fine by me. I will do whatever it takes to get the hell away from these people. If Pinochet and her evil spawn can take two hour lunches? Fuck you, you mid-western Republican assholes, so can I. And to think that they might feel that I'm on the same level as her? That's so insulting because I could NEVER be a cheap, ghetto version of hired help. I actually speak English, I'm from a news family (Dad, Granddad, Uncle, and two cousins), and I have two college degrees. I know for all time I'll never see a master's degree should I stay in this unrelenting shithole.
She thinks Detroit is in Ohio. KJou and I laughed so hard over this, I thought he'd fall out of his chair. Nope, I am worth more.
And that's pretty much that, kiddies. I'm off to ebay to buy toothpaste in bulk, since I'm basically broke. Again. No surprise there.
Like the old saying goes, You Can't Spell Cheap without
AP.
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