Sunday, December 28, 2008

It's very...sparkly!

So, I didn't get any Christmas presents from my dad this year, 'cause he was kind of busy. But, perhaps it's better this way. My dad may be really sick and was in danger of dying, but he’s still really crappy at picking out presents for me. Don’t believe me? Here. I’ll *show* you gifts from years past.

The object on the left? That’s a cat purse. Why? Because I have a cat. Duh. It’s beaded and spangly and ummm, unnecessary. The thing with the Jack-O’-Lantern on it is a shirt. He bought it because it was “festive” and I didn’t have to just wear it at Halloween, I could wear it anytime during the fall season. That’s what he said. He also spent $28 plus tax on it. Yep.

The lovely item below is a poinsettia pin. Again, it’s “festive”. It’s also the size of my hand. He said I could pin to my hat. ‘Cause evidently, it’s 1933 in his world. Also, in case you can’t tell, it’s made entirely of sequins. So, it’ll totally match the cat purse and the pumpkin shirt.

Next up? I asked for wine glasses or a toaster oven one year. Here’s what I got!

You probably can’t see it very well, but it’s a lovely gold turtle with a bejeweled enamel shell. It opens, too! You can put 3 paperclips, a thumbtack or a piece of chewed gum in there. Maybe a teeny earring. The shell is the size of a walnut. So, you know, picture that along with his words of, “I thought you could put it on your desk and it would be a colorful paperweight AND neat to hold things in.” I’m not even lying. I wish that I was. I don’t work in an office where wind comes whipping down the hallways, so the need for a paperweight isn’t overly urgent and as for storing things in it, how about my wishes and dreams for a toaster oven or wine glasses? Will it hold them or are they too big to fit in the tiny, sparkly shell?

One year he bought me a fur stole. Real fur. Real bitty feet hanging down. You’re supposed to wear it around your neck before you kill people and eat their faces, I think. WTF? This man has known me my whole life. He was there when he had to remove me from the movie theater, WAILING, while watching “Bambi”. He was there when I had to remove myself from the movie theater, SOBBING, while watching “Benji”. I wasn’t allowed to watch westerns with him when I was a kid because I would cry every time one of the horses got shot. Fake animal distress upset me that much. So, OBVIOUSLY a real dead animal draped around my neck is the perfect choice for a gift.

I honestly can’t figure out if he thinks I’m still a 9-year old girl or if he thinks I’m my 86-year old great aunt. Or a Gypsy...

Sunday, December 21, 2008


My dad had a massive heart attack Friday night. He had the type they call the Widow Maker. Complete blockage of the left ventricle or something. I don’t know. Despite my near religious viewing of “House”, I’m not actually a doctor. Evidently, people usually die from this type of heart attack (or Miocardial Infarction if you’re feeling fancy) before they can receive medical attention. Luckily, this wasn’t the case with my dad. He probably had a heart attack last week as well. He was out in the cold, walking briskly and felt extreme pain and tension in his chest. He attributed it to the really cold weather, sat down for a few minutes and caught his breath. He blew it off as nothing. But, this one happened while he was sitting on the couch in his 74-degree apartment. He knew this one wasn’t nothing. He’ll be having a quadruple bypass in the morning.

My mom died when I was 6. I don’t usually advertise this, but if someone asks, I’ll tell them. My greatest fear has always been my dad dying, too. I know he’ll die someday. I’m probably more aware of that fact than most people are about their parents, because I grew up knowing that it was always not just a possibility, but an actuality. I almost certainly have an unnatural preoccupation with loved ones dying. When I don’t hear from someone, I automatically assume the worst. The more I love them, the greater that fear becomes. I’ve driven people mad with this. I’m sure it’s about to get worse. So, for all of you out there who are supposed to call me at appointed times, please do it so I won’t assume that you’re dead in a ditch, ok? Thanks.

I don’t have siblings. I didn’t grow up with my family, so I don’t know my cousins and aunts and uncles. My dad is all I have. He’s it. He’s my family. He’s my friend. He’s the one person in my life who has always been there. Always had my back. Always told me when I was being a fuckheaded ‘tard and always brings me Diet Coke with Splenda. He’s my go-to person. He came to California to drive my car and me to Ohio because I asked him to. Who does that? Yes, he gets on my nerves (and I’m fairly certain I get on his just as often). Yes, he’s technologically challenged. Yes, he’s sarcastic and kind of a dick sometimes. BUT, he’s also extremely thoughtful. Extremely funny. Extremely generous and would give anyone in need the shirt off his back. Literally. He’s LITERALLY given someone his coat. Twice. In the middle of winter.

I’m not ready for him to be gone. I’m just not. I’m not equipped to be all alone. I like being alone, but not that alone. The fear is overwhelming at times and the thought of him not being there is more than I can take right now. I just can’t. I can’t conceive of what that type of aloneness must be like. I’m afraid. Down to my toes, deep in my soul, afraid. The dread is heavy. I try to joke and play online and bullshit my way though this, but I am terrified. And sad. And feeling very, very alone.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Wow! Just wow.

So, this was a cover letter I received with a resume today. Other than removing her name, it's exactly as I received it. Even the italics are the same. I...I just...really? Really, there isn't someone she showed this to before sending it out? Someone who would say, "hmm, you know, maybe that's not what a cover letter is all about"? Or "Hey, I know, why don't you leave out most of this and just give a summary of your qualifications and your education and what your salary requirements are?" Really? Read it and tell me if I'm being a bitch. Seriously.

The wonderful life of [name redacted] all started in August 9, 1982 when I was born a beautiful baby girl. I was trouble from the start. I first got kicked out of school in the 3rd grade. then my grades started dropping but I passed elementary and moved on to middle school where I had a problem keeping my hand to myself and they would always send me to peer mediation to talk out my problems out, well that didn’t work for a while so they through me in detention and when that didn’t work I started to getting suspended, so my mom decided to put me in child guidance to see what was really wrong with me. I mean don’t get me wrong I had my mother, father, and my younger sister in my house hold my parents weren’t on drugs maybe they had a few drinks every now and then but there was nothing to serious and they both had jobs. So, what was the problem? Well, we never got to it they laid my dad off and his insurance got cancelled. So, I passed all my classes and went on to high school where I got kicked out of one school went to another school for all bad kids, went back to public school were I mostly was suspended, passed went to another school and dropped out in the 11th grade because I was pregnant.

Had my baby and a year later started taking classes at the Adult Vocational Services were I got my GED and was also taking a course in Information Processing. I walked across the stage with my GED in 2004.

The Information Processing class that I took prior to coming to Brown Mackie was more of a secretarial work type of study some of the windows work is the same but, in my Information Processing class we had to learn a lot of accounting, and I don’t have to do accounting in this class just medical math.

I heard about Brown Mackie through a friend that goes hear now she is studying how to become a medical assistant. She is about to graduate this summer and she was telling me how great this school was so I had to try it

Now that I am enrolled in Brown Mackie College I never thought that I would be in college the one that always got suspended, the one that never really cared for going to school, has been going to school and doing better since I’ve been going to college.

My major at Brown Mackie College is an Admitting Officer. I selected to become an Admitting Officer is because I like the medical field and I like making sure that everything is in order and patients are in and out of their appointments on time. I like just sitting at a computer doing your work; you get to meet all the people that come in to the office. You have a chance to advance in your work place where you can move ahead and make more money, and get great benefits through your job.

The one thing I plan to do when I receive my degree is to work in a private doctors office or in a hospital in an another city, so I buy me a house, truck and have sum money for my baby to go to college so that she can have a good life as well.

To close my story up I started being bad and causing trouble for everybody I was a bully and didn’t have to many friends but I always had my family they were there with me through thick and thin even if they really didn’t want to be mixed up in the drama at times they were. I was just to young to see that and just thought that everybody owed me something when the truth is I owe them something. My life and everything that it has to offer, because I don’t know how I would have made it trying to take care of a child at the age of 16 if it wasn’t for them.

Still today my grandmother stays on me about school and still makes sure that I cum to school and tells me to stick wit and don’t give up because you have to go through a struggle in order to make it to the top of your dreams. I want to be on top of my dreams.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Incompetence, Thy Name is Dianne

One of our Directors (not the one I have a crush on) is quite possibly retarded. When I first started at my company, I was her Administrative Assistant. She used to forward all of her documents to me to print because a) she couldn’t figure out how to see the whole thing on the computer screen and b) she couldn’t figure out how to format it to print properly if it wasn’t already set to print on one page. I would come in every morning and have 10 – 15 emails from her saying, “please print”. One time she called me to come fix her printer. I walked in, looked at it from across the room, went over to it and pressed a button. It made a noise. She gasped and said, "how’d you DO that?” I replied, "I turned it on.”

Another time, after I had moved to a different building and a position in HR, she called me to repair her printer. (Btw, we have an IT department. Not sure why she always calls me.) I asked her if it was on. She said, “YES, I’m not STUPID!” So, I walked over to her building, went to her giant office that she doesn’t deserve, and looked at her printer. It was out of paper. Nope, you’re not stupid…

She paged me out of a meeting once because she was trying to send an email to the Regional Vice President, but every time she typed, nothing would show up on the screen. I tried to talk her through it on the phone, but was getting nowhere. I went to her giant office that she doesn’t deserve and highlighted the text in her email. I looked at it for a second and then glanced up – her font was set to pale yellow. *ahem* Nope, not stupid...

Last week, she was babbling about something in my office, which is not giant and I totally deserve, and she asked me if I was still living in my same apartment. I said that I was (it’s an attic apartment in an old brownstone. It’s super cute and I call it my little dollhouse) and that I have a really loud neighbor. She said maybe I should stomp around and be loud back. I said, “yeah, maybe. I’m so quiet, you wouldn’t even know anyone lives there. I act as though I’m living in the attic with Anne Frank”. She replied, “WHO?” I said, “umm, you know? Anne Frank? She and her family lived in an attic, while they were hiding from Nazis?” She looked at me and said, and I swear to God I’m not making this up, “Helen Keller’s friend was on the run from Nazis????”

She makes $122,000 a year. Plus bonus. I fucking hate her.