Well hidee ho!! Sittin' in Tulsa this fine morning and ya know what.....B-O-R-I-N-G!!! Here on business and trying to get info for the night life out of the locals was near impossible. I flew into Tulsa to help conduct a training class on the programs Intermedia uses, so that MCI folks can take our jobs on Monday. Anyway.......I figured I would try to entertain myself so my coworker and I kept asking everyone where to go for some fun. Finally the director of the department suggested a place called the Voodoo Room. It was located in downtown Tulsa.....now let me tell you, downtown Tulsa ain't got shit. They roll up the sidewalk at 5PM and thats it. The Voodoo romm is located in an area of town that is trying to rejuvinated so it is just a little seedy. But the Voodoo Room was way cool. You pay a $5.00 cover charge and you get access to 3 bars in this one place. One room plays R&R, another is jazz or kareoke and the third is a piano bar with 2 guys that get obnoxious and a bit raunchy at times. But can they play the piano!! So that is where we spent Friday night. People watching, laughing and dancing. While in the piano bar we even made a request of "Take this Job and Shove It" and dedicated it to MCI for our layoff in a week. The piano player obliged us by inserting MCI's name several times. And gee I got whistled at, approched by a drunk that wanted to take me home and a stripper (female) that wanted to get me to come to her club to give me a lap dance. *snicker* but she wanted my male co worker to pay for it. *snicker* We have found some really great places for food. Charlestons had great steaks, Mexico Lindos was some awesome/authentic Mexican food and we stopped off at a BBQ place that was pretty damn good as well.
MCI has req that we be in attendance at a class today, so we sit here in case questions arise. A little hard to be here after getting in at 4AM. LOL but thanks goodness this group has got a sense of humor. MCI has also req that we put in a 12 hour day on Monday and Tuesday. Yipee!!! How exciting! OK ,OK it is overtime.
Tulsa itself is hot, but no, or little humidity, so it is easy to take. The 105 "feels like" is not that bad. But enough for now. Got a Harley shop to check out and a pool hall to find.
TTFN
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Monday, July 19, 2004
Pin in my pocket.
I deal with people all day long. People of all ages. What is it that makes some people think they are better or more superior than everyone else. Where do their egos come from? Whay suprises me even more is when it is teenagers with the egos. Maybe life hasn't slapped them hard enough to give them a reality check. I hear alot of this talk amoungst the hockey players in the youth organization in which I am involved. I listen to their statements of self importance. "I am the team", "I am not playing unless so-and-so coaches." I hear this in the adults I deal with as well. Over the last few years I have dealt with coaches that just think they will be the next Herb Brooks. At work I deal with a group of techs that think they are the most capable people in the field. Sadly, they are highly lacking in basic knowledge. So what is it that makes them think they are the cats meow? Maybe next time I walk by I should just pull out a pin and pop the swelled up head. Wouldn't that be a riot as all the hot air escapes. Some might even fly about like balloons released in childs play.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Vacation
Well the suposed vacation is over. It wasn't much of a stress free escape from reality trip. But I did manage to squeeze in some fun and enjoyment. Now I am at home dealing with all the clean ups of the disasters. AC is semi fixed. It had a clogged line which in turn caused the coils to ice over and trip the fuse. The platform it had been built on was press board, so as the ice melted the platform started falling apart and the unit started to be in danger of falling 3 feet to the floor. But it is now cleaned out and on a new platform and working, Still need to have an AC tech come out and check it all out. Should have a new vehicle today thanks to Les.......and now just need to make arrangements to get the bird to the vet as he seems really ill and one of the cats seems to have an eye infection. Sheesh....does it never end??
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
Strike Three??
OK, so before I went on this vacation for some R&R, I let my son take my car out, his wasn't running, to have a last visit with his girlfriend before we left. So what did he do??? Ran a stop light and wrecked the car. Now this is 10:00PM on the night before we are to take the road trip. So.... I get the car towed to the shop and make arrangements for a rental. OK cost of vacation just went up. I take the vacation anyway. Now I,m in VA and have been informed that the car is totaled. YEA!! And I am supposed to be relaxing on this trip. So much for getting away from stress. I just finished consolidating all my bills to make life easier. Now I have to figure out a way to get a new car with out car payments. Oh and that is one that will last.
SO:
Strike One - Job layoff with last day as July 30th
Strike Two - Car wrecked, totaled and no way to make car payments.
Strike Three.............I sure hope it hits soon so I can have a nervous breakdown.
SO:
Strike One - Job layoff with last day as July 30th
Strike Two - Car wrecked, totaled and no way to make car payments.
Strike Three.............I sure hope it hits soon so I can have a nervous breakdown.
Monday, July 05, 2004
Gatoring
Definition: Gatoring - Taking a small John Deere 6 wheeled tractor, called a Gator, for an adventure in the woods.
Keeping in mind I am still in VA, Peter and I went gatoring today. My dads property is in the middle of nowhere and is located on a vast estate known as Garrets Farm. The Garrets still on the farm, but sold off two parcels of the land on the river front. In order to get back to my dads, you have to drive a private road that cuts through the farm. The farm itself is an old tobacco and hay farm. So anyway, Preston Garret is kind enough to let us roam on his vast property while we are visiting. We took the trial that follows the gas companies pipeline and then cut off onto a side trial. We ventured down the trial that was overgrown due to all they rain they have had here. Often we had to duck trees and thorns from the blackberry bushes that grow wild in this area. It miandered for about three miles and we came to a small creek that runs down from a pond higher up in the hills and feeds down to the James River. It was here we got stuck, Couldn't get the blasted Gator to get back up the hill. Peter and I just looked at each other as my fathers last words "Don't get stuck somewhere and make me have to come pull you out." went through both our heads. I looked at my son and said...1st I am not walking back, I am in shorts and I will no doubt get poison ivy, and 2nd, I am not telling grampy we are stuck." So we set to getting the gator "unstuck" First I pushed while Peter put it into reverse and hit the gas. No luck. So we switched places an tried again. Still no luck. Peter gave me that look of, "we better get grampy." No!" was all that came out of my mouth. We both laughed. I thought about this logically and said to Peter that there is more power in forward than reverse and if we could get it turned around then we could get it in 4 wheel drive as well and probably get back up the hill. We cleared a small area so that we could at least turn the gator around on the hillside. It took us about 5 minutes to get it turned around between all the trees and brush, but we did finally manage. Peter got in and on the count of three I pushed and he hit the gas, Eureka!!! it moaned and groaned its way back up the hill, occasionally sliding back, but getting a grip and heading further up the trail. We were both relieved. This was a high five occasion. We hiked a little in the area and did some exploring. Eventually we decided it was time to get back to the homestead, so we climbed back up the hill to the gator and headed on in. The rest of the drive back was easy. Peter and I giggled and laughed the whole way back. Once we arrived I was greated by my father. " I was wondering where you two were. I thought I was gonna have to come looking for you, because you had probably gotten stuck some where." I just looked at him with a sly smile and said , "What? Come on, we just lost track of time."
Keeping in mind I am still in VA, Peter and I went gatoring today. My dads property is in the middle of nowhere and is located on a vast estate known as Garrets Farm. The Garrets still on the farm, but sold off two parcels of the land on the river front. In order to get back to my dads, you have to drive a private road that cuts through the farm. The farm itself is an old tobacco and hay farm. So anyway, Preston Garret is kind enough to let us roam on his vast property while we are visiting. We took the trial that follows the gas companies pipeline and then cut off onto a side trial. We ventured down the trial that was overgrown due to all they rain they have had here. Often we had to duck trees and thorns from the blackberry bushes that grow wild in this area. It miandered for about three miles and we came to a small creek that runs down from a pond higher up in the hills and feeds down to the James River. It was here we got stuck, Couldn't get the blasted Gator to get back up the hill. Peter and I just looked at each other as my fathers last words "Don't get stuck somewhere and make me have to come pull you out." went through both our heads. I looked at my son and said...1st I am not walking back, I am in shorts and I will no doubt get poison ivy, and 2nd, I am not telling grampy we are stuck." So we set to getting the gator "unstuck" First I pushed while Peter put it into reverse and hit the gas. No luck. So we switched places an tried again. Still no luck. Peter gave me that look of, "we better get grampy." No!" was all that came out of my mouth. We both laughed. I thought about this logically and said to Peter that there is more power in forward than reverse and if we could get it turned around then we could get it in 4 wheel drive as well and probably get back up the hill. We cleared a small area so that we could at least turn the gator around on the hillside. It took us about 5 minutes to get it turned around between all the trees and brush, but we did finally manage. Peter got in and on the count of three I pushed and he hit the gas, Eureka!!! it moaned and groaned its way back up the hill, occasionally sliding back, but getting a grip and heading further up the trail. We were both relieved. This was a high five occasion. We hiked a little in the area and did some exploring. Eventually we decided it was time to get back to the homestead, so we climbed back up the hill to the gator and headed on in. The rest of the drive back was easy. Peter and I giggled and laughed the whole way back. Once we arrived I was greated by my father. " I was wondering where you two were. I thought I was gonna have to come looking for you, because you had probably gotten stuck some where." I just looked at him with a sly smile and said , "What? Come on, we just lost track of time."
The 4th
I am up in VA for a little R&R. Man is it great up up here. Cool days, well at least compared to FL, and low humidity. For the 4th we went to the local park here in Lynchburg to see the fireworks. While they are not the spectacular site that I have become used to being in the bigger cities, they were awesome in their own way. Ya see this area of VA is rich in Civil War history. Every antique store you enter has items that have been found around these hills. Battles and skirmishes were fought all over this area. So when I sat on the hillside, watching the fireworks, I noticed the way they echoed and reverberated on the hillside. It was amazing and I couldn't help but think that this must have been the way a battle sounded. Cannons firing at the enemy. Heard for miles and miles, warning everyone to stay away. I closed my eyes and could see the blue and gray soldiers fighting in the woods and the larger battle going on in an open field nearby. I could almost hear the voices. Officers shouting orders, horses whinnying, soldiers screaming in pain as they were wounded. Do the ghosts of these soldiers still wander the area and do the fireworks remind them of a time gone by??
Friday, June 25, 2004
This is a gem!
OK. I just got my 30 day notice today. I took it quite well. I figure that as much as this place has sucked lately, and that fact I am embarrassed to tell people where I work, that being laid off just isn't that bad. Now if you read the previous post you know I had to take an ethics class. 2 we have had to do so far. I work in a dept that gives kid gloves handling to accounts that are high profile and have special contract agreements. One of those accounts is State of Georgia. They are my baby and I do my damnedest to be sure things get fixed in a timely manner and that they get all the info they need on ongoing repairs. That alone is laughable because since the actual repair work was taken from us and sent to Cary NC, nothing gets done in a resonable time. If they have a line go down, we are, by contractual agreement, supposed to have them up and working in 4 hours or we have to start paying them a % of their cost back, depending on the length of outage. It averages Cary 2 hours just to pick up the trouble ticket. So, anyway, I walked into my mgrs office to ask when we were gonna give the State of Georgia folks a heads up about what is coming. I was told we were not. See SOG is up for a contract renewal in 2 weeks......in four weeks they will not get the service the get now. They will be just another face in the crowd, treated just as rudely and curtly as everyone else. They complain now becasue they don't feel Cary meets their criteria in dealing with their needs....how are they gonna feel when their initial phone calls are met as just another call in to report trouble. No more concern because issues aren't fixed, no more concerns that we put pressure on the repair group to do their job......just another ticket to open and pass on. No ownership for anything. And they will be really pissed when they find they get this lack of service 2 weeks after signing on the dotted line. (or maybe they won't sign in the first place)
And all this after craming another ethics training class down our throats.
Hello, ethics hotline.................
And all this after craming another ethics training class down our throats.
Hello, ethics hotline.................
Monday, June 21, 2004
Ethics Training??
Are you one of those folks that loves or at least "likes" your job?? Wish I were. Today I found my self staring at one of the company banners. In particular I was staring at the logo. MCI. And I couldn't help starting to feel a sense of loathing and distaste. Bernie Ebbers and his cohorts stole, cooked books and made enormous loans to themselves and the worker bees get to suffer for it. We just recently watched 7500 more employees get the boot and we felt it both emotionally and in the work load. Alcoholics Anonymous membership should be starting to increase real soon. Work load cases have doubled for most of us, and I don't mean from 5 cases to 10 but from 20 cases to 40............ so much for customer service. And the new CEO, Michael Capellas, nice salary dude! How many employees could be retained with that? Anyway, we, the entire company of worker bees, received an e-mail telling us we need some more ethics training. We already had one last year about not stealing company supplies and not putting ourselves into situations that would comprmise our morals. Funny thing is this company hasn't given me any office suplies in almost 4 years. Pens, notebooks, tape, staples, and occasionally even batteries for the headsets have come out of employees pockets. Hmm kinda sounds like teachers in the public school system........ and as for my morals, well I sometimes wonder if they are already comprimised by working here. But back to the ramble, now, they want us to take yet another class. This one on ethics in financial reporting. BWAHAHAHAHAHA, now please!! I certainly didn't cook those books! Of course I could report financially that they won't continue to survive if they take away any more people who service the customer. Maybe I could report the financial laughability of my paycheck for the mounds of work they now pile on me........ Maybe somewhere there is a connection between repairing frame relay circuits and telling Wall Street that we are sitting pretty on a mountain of dough.........and I just don't see it. No .....I really don't think there is a connection. So as usual, the little man does the time for the big guys that do the crime.........
Why don't I find another job??? Have you been in the job market lately??? Despite what the news reports.....well paying jobs are not the jobs that are opening up.
Why don't I find another job??? Have you been in the job market lately??? Despite what the news reports.....well paying jobs are not the jobs that are opening up.
Monday, June 14, 2004
16, Have Ride, Will Drive
Well it seems Mom's Taxi Service has been put into semi retirement. Peter is armed with a liscense and a car. I remember back when I got mine. The excitment and new found freedom. I could now go visit my friends without my mother taking me there and any reason to drive was good, even if it was just to get milk at the grocery store or to pick up some mopeds that needed repairs. I was cool. I was in the car alone and I had the road. Moving from Florida to N.J. was even better because you had to be 16 in N.J. to get your learners permit. Here I was at 16 and driving......my friends were envious and thought it was cool to hang with me. I haven't lost my love of driving. Long road trips are great. I love just cruising the country side........windows down and the wind just blowing my hair into a frazzled mess. Its the way to go. Darn.....now that road trip in July, to VA, will have to be shared with my 16 year old. I also now see the other side. The freedom gained by my parents when I no longer requested rides from them. Its amazing how much time is freed up when you don't have to chauffer someone around. Suddenly you can stay at the local hang out a little longer. Sleep in a little later because you don't have to take someone to work in the morning. Ahhhhh life just got a little easier.
Friday, June 11, 2004
Life
I was asked about my motto yesterday. The one on the left side of my blog.
Don't sweat the small things. There is too much more going on out there.
I didn't learn this in life until I was about 34 or 35. Up 'til then everything was of major importance and could cause a crisis. Fighting your way out of an abusive relationship and dealing with its aftermath, makes the over flowing garbage a very trivial thing. I have learned that life is something to enjoy and if your not happy on the path your walking down, then turn and go in a new direction. I want to enjoy my friends. I want to know my friends. I want to like what I am doing. It's understood that I will probably never travel the world, or party with royalty, but the things I do can still be fulfilling, and entertaining. I can still let people know I am here.
But its not just that. There are larger issuses, a friend with cancer, a fence to mend with a family member, a missing child. These are the things that deserve our attention. Who cares if the dishes sit another hour. If I worry, I want to worry over something that is worth my time. I don't want to be wasting time wondering if the trash went out to the street, or did the lawn get mowed today. Yes these are things that need to be done, but if soemthing more important comes along, or something fun to do with a friend, well these things can get shoved aside for the time being. Enjoy life.
I don't plan arriving at my final destination in a nice neat package, pristine and undamaged. I'm gonna arrive screeching sideways, oil leaking and hollering Geronimo!!!!
Don't sweat the small things. There is too much more going on out there.
I didn't learn this in life until I was about 34 or 35. Up 'til then everything was of major importance and could cause a crisis. Fighting your way out of an abusive relationship and dealing with its aftermath, makes the over flowing garbage a very trivial thing. I have learned that life is something to enjoy and if your not happy on the path your walking down, then turn and go in a new direction. I want to enjoy my friends. I want to know my friends. I want to like what I am doing. It's understood that I will probably never travel the world, or party with royalty, but the things I do can still be fulfilling, and entertaining. I can still let people know I am here.
But its not just that. There are larger issuses, a friend with cancer, a fence to mend with a family member, a missing child. These are the things that deserve our attention. Who cares if the dishes sit another hour. If I worry, I want to worry over something that is worth my time. I don't want to be wasting time wondering if the trash went out to the street, or did the lawn get mowed today. Yes these are things that need to be done, but if soemthing more important comes along, or something fun to do with a friend, well these things can get shoved aside for the time being. Enjoy life.
I don't plan arriving at my final destination in a nice neat package, pristine and undamaged. I'm gonna arrive screeching sideways, oil leaking and hollering Geronimo!!!!
Monday, June 07, 2004
Whodda Thunk It?
Champions!!
WOW!!! Can you believe we did it!! We beat those Canadian boys even though, whats that you said?? Its your God given right to win the cup!!! Talk about HAPPY!! HAPPY!! HAPPY!! Man we lived through some pretty depressing seasons, but now, WE ARE ON THE TOP!Woooohooooo! I gotta tell ya.....my stomach has been in my throat since the beginning of game 6. Today was worse. I had that constant churning in the pit of your stomach, the stuff that makes you queazy and uncomfortable. I wanted this win and I wanted it bad. Who says that the fans don't live the dreams of the athletes? Fans want it just as bad. They want it for their boys, they want it for their city and community. Hockey moms want it, to know all that money hasn't been wasted and that Florida can make it in the sport.
I watched the game from the local wing house and what a crowd we had rockin in there. Fred I am soooooooooo jealous that you got to see the game up front and personal like, but George and I still had an awesome time. We did find a better Mama Ciarlo. Tall and pretty. Couldn't catch her name though....tried once or twice but wasn't able. But back to the game..............awesome baby, just awsome. Havta git on down to the stores for some new car flags, mugs and other good stuff. A day in history with memories of the whole series and two of the best friends I spent them with.
Off to dream heaven tonight............
Saturday, June 05, 2004
One of the guys, or me, being accepted for me?
One Of the Guys
Is it just one of the guys, or me, being accepted for me?
I have my girlie friends where I can go out and check out the guys, go shopping, or talk about the girl stuff. We hug, laugh and whisper secrets and this is great, but I also have the guy friends I hang out with and that is a different beast. They talk about girls and body parts, ask my opinion on the female side of things, talk sports, and in general......... are guys. They don't lose site of who and what they are because a "female" is present. I like this. It gives me an opportunity to see both sides of the coin. After all it seems the war between men and women is always there. You know the whole "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" thing. I get a totally different insite into who and what people are. I learned long ago to accept people as they are. See their good and bad and accept them for both. Don't try to change them, don't try to fix them. What they are is what makes them unique. So...since I get to hang with George and Fred and they aren't inhibited by my presence, does that mean I am one of the guys?, or do they just accept me for who I am? or is it all just really the same thing? It could be that we are just all adults and have learned that no one needs to impress the other and no self egos to bolster..... too much heavy thinking here....... how about another round of beer and wings.
Monday, May 31, 2004
Memorial Day
The cost of freedom is buried in the ground. Take a moment to remember.
Day of Recognition
I was in Washington D.C. visiting a college friend during the winter of 80 something. I was there visiting him just after Christmas. He was busy doing his daily work routine, so I had time to kill. I thought that it would be appropriate to go and see the monuments and various other sights since I was majoring in American History. I had never been to D.C. before.
He and I walked his route to work together and when we got to the Blue Cross Blue Shield Building we went our separate ways. It was a bit chilly outside, but I didn’t mind. The brisk air felt good and the walking would do me good. I stopped first at the Washington Monument.I was uninspired. My second stop was the reflection pond. I sat there for a moment and thought how beautiful it must be during the spring when the trees were in bloom. From there I proceeded to the Lincoln Monument. I remember looking up at this marvelous sculpture and standing in front of it in awe. I could almost feel the thoughts that were held in those eyes. The quiet that surrounded the monument was eerie. This impressed me. I thought of his life and the unfulfilled dreams he had, just like so many other assassinated leaders. The Jefferson Memorial was next. I was fascinated by the architecture and all the hidden elements and symbols. I think I stood and talked to the guide for almost an hour about the different ideas that ran through the design.
My biggest surprise was yet to come. I was heading for the government buildings and then planned on hitting the Smithsonian. I remember that The Wall had had its’ grand celebration this past summer. I figured I would go there next, after all there had been such a big hubbub over it from the very beginning. People had questioned the purpose of all the names and commented on the ugliness of the black stone so sharply cutting into the earth. The controversy alone made me want to see it.
As I walked up upon the “open field” that lay before the massive black wall, I stopped and froze. The view shocked my senses and stopped me dead. I stood there, almost unable to breath. I scanned the shiny black wall from one end to the other. Slowly it seemed I was able to regain the use of my muscles and I walked ever so slowly toward the wall. The names became clearer. The wall grew larger. The silence was deafening. I looked along the bottom of the wall and saw the articles that people had left for their friends and loved ones. It was moving to see others lives lying before me. I started to read some of the names. Who was I looking for? I didn’t know anyone personally that had fought in the war other than my father. He was still alive. I felt tears well up and I began to cry.
I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, sympathy? Pain? Lost love? I didn’t know. I reached out and touched the wall. It was cold, yet I felt comfort by that action. My mind drifted off to an earlier time. I remembered saying good bye to my father as he went off to fight in the Vietnam War. I remember the kind, gentle, and loving father he was before he left for the war. I remembered how things changed when he returned.
The changes came slowly. It seemed to start with the amount of time he spent with us kids. He seemed to become more and more preoccupied with chores and projects around the house. He did build us our first color t.v. He also worked on other electronic gadgets that he categorized as his toys. We would ask him to go and do things with us and the time he used to have to play with us seemed to be diminishing. But then, maybe we were getting older and more into our neighborhood friends. His patience and tolerance for our typical childhood antics seemed to be the next to go. He put up less and less with the sibling spats and the pettiness that children show. He also seemed grow more and more irritated with my mother.
Life in general seemed to become tougher for us kids, more so for me. He seemed to have a special anger just for me. The once gentle and kind father became violent and abusive. The endearments he used to call me were gone. Now I was a slut, liar, trash, and someone God never should have wasted something as precious as life on. The physical abuse never got to the point of broken bones, but I dreaded it just the same. The hurt and pain carried on for many years. The mental abuse was the worst. Bruises heal quickly; emotions can last a lifetime. I died somewhere in my childhood, and for the first time I realized it.
I began to understand what I was feeling, while standing in front of that wall. I was looking for my name and the names of countless other children who may have suffered the same fate. My father may not have died in that war, but indirectly both he and I did, my father from PTSD, and I from the loss of innocence and the emptiness of a soul. Here I was facing the fact that I was a living corpse from the war. What was I to do and how was I to heal? I knew I had a long road ahead of me. I had a child to find and a spirit to revive. The Wall that so many people had argued about and fought over had become my healing stone.
Day of Recognition
I was in Washington D.C. visiting a college friend during the winter of 80 something. I was there visiting him just after Christmas. He was busy doing his daily work routine, so I had time to kill. I thought that it would be appropriate to go and see the monuments and various other sights since I was majoring in American History. I had never been to D.C. before.
He and I walked his route to work together and when we got to the Blue Cross Blue Shield Building we went our separate ways. It was a bit chilly outside, but I didn’t mind. The brisk air felt good and the walking would do me good. I stopped first at the Washington Monument.I was uninspired. My second stop was the reflection pond. I sat there for a moment and thought how beautiful it must be during the spring when the trees were in bloom. From there I proceeded to the Lincoln Monument. I remember looking up at this marvelous sculpture and standing in front of it in awe. I could almost feel the thoughts that were held in those eyes. The quiet that surrounded the monument was eerie. This impressed me. I thought of his life and the unfulfilled dreams he had, just like so many other assassinated leaders. The Jefferson Memorial was next. I was fascinated by the architecture and all the hidden elements and symbols. I think I stood and talked to the guide for almost an hour about the different ideas that ran through the design.
My biggest surprise was yet to come. I was heading for the government buildings and then planned on hitting the Smithsonian. I remember that The Wall had had its’ grand celebration this past summer. I figured I would go there next, after all there had been such a big hubbub over it from the very beginning. People had questioned the purpose of all the names and commented on the ugliness of the black stone so sharply cutting into the earth. The controversy alone made me want to see it.
As I walked up upon the “open field” that lay before the massive black wall, I stopped and froze. The view shocked my senses and stopped me dead. I stood there, almost unable to breath. I scanned the shiny black wall from one end to the other. Slowly it seemed I was able to regain the use of my muscles and I walked ever so slowly toward the wall. The names became clearer. The wall grew larger. The silence was deafening. I looked along the bottom of the wall and saw the articles that people had left for their friends and loved ones. It was moving to see others lives lying before me. I started to read some of the names. Who was I looking for? I didn’t know anyone personally that had fought in the war other than my father. He was still alive. I felt tears well up and I began to cry.
I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, sympathy? Pain? Lost love? I didn’t know. I reached out and touched the wall. It was cold, yet I felt comfort by that action. My mind drifted off to an earlier time. I remembered saying good bye to my father as he went off to fight in the Vietnam War. I remember the kind, gentle, and loving father he was before he left for the war. I remembered how things changed when he returned.
The changes came slowly. It seemed to start with the amount of time he spent with us kids. He seemed to become more and more preoccupied with chores and projects around the house. He did build us our first color t.v. He also worked on other electronic gadgets that he categorized as his toys. We would ask him to go and do things with us and the time he used to have to play with us seemed to be diminishing. But then, maybe we were getting older and more into our neighborhood friends. His patience and tolerance for our typical childhood antics seemed to be the next to go. He put up less and less with the sibling spats and the pettiness that children show. He also seemed grow more and more irritated with my mother.
Life in general seemed to become tougher for us kids, more so for me. He seemed to have a special anger just for me. The once gentle and kind father became violent and abusive. The endearments he used to call me were gone. Now I was a slut, liar, trash, and someone God never should have wasted something as precious as life on. The physical abuse never got to the point of broken bones, but I dreaded it just the same. The hurt and pain carried on for many years. The mental abuse was the worst. Bruises heal quickly; emotions can last a lifetime. I died somewhere in my childhood, and for the first time I realized it.
I began to understand what I was feeling, while standing in front of that wall. I was looking for my name and the names of countless other children who may have suffered the same fate. My father may not have died in that war, but indirectly both he and I did, my father from PTSD, and I from the loss of innocence and the emptiness of a soul. Here I was facing the fact that I was a living corpse from the war. What was I to do and how was I to heal? I knew I had a long road ahead of me. I had a child to find and a spirit to revive. The Wall that so many people had argued about and fought over had become my healing stone.
Sunday, May 23, 2004
More like Ranting of the Insane
Well I guess this would be more a ranting than anything else, but ya know I feel like I am so close to just exploding.
STRESSED OUT!
Does it ever seem that people around you just don't get that you are an indivdual, with a life, and that your time is just as important as theirs? But then again I am a mother and I should never expect my child to think that my time is anythiing but his. My boss, although a really nice person, will think nothing of asking me to do something on my lunch hour for her. And the other members that live in this house.....well lets just say, they both think I am a personal maid. I went on strike once. After a week and a half, the house was so disgusting. One of them finally got up and did some cleaning and then expected me to praise him for it."See what I did!!" or was he tryinig to make me feel guilty because I let the house get that way? I know my kid thinks I have turned into a raving lunatic, because it seems I spend more time yelling at him than anything these days, but he IS the biggest offender of "her time is my time" I just gave up a four day weekend vacation, because he had hockey tryouts. Did I get so much as a thanks, nooooooo, what I got was,
"take me to Ybor for a concert"
"take me clothes shopping"
"take me to work"
"take me to my girlfriends"
"I need a DR appt"
"Call this guy on this car I want".............etc etc etc. Excuse me!! I was supposed to be in NC right now!!
I am stressed to the point that small things I would normally shrug off can put me close to over the edge. And the things that do piss me off, well it would be better to not be around. What I have determined is I am in really bad need of a vacation. I mean the out of state, longer than a week, relax, do what I WANT vacation. Unfortunatly that doesn't come until July. I was hoping the long weekend would tie me over, but I guess not. I sat outside the rink the other night and it was quiet. I revelled in the lack of noise. My mind drifted off. I was sitting on my fathers balcony over looking the James River in VA. The only sounds to be heard in the early evening is the water of the river and the occasional train that runs on the tracks on the other side of it. Humming birds hover nearby at the feeders. It is so quiet you can actually hear the hum of their wings. As the sun goes down the fireflies come out and you get your own personal light show......ahhhh yessssssssss. Being suddenly jerked from that tranquil moment sucked. Count down the days to departure and try to keep myself on even keel. Deep breath, count, 1....2.....3.....4...
STRESSED OUT!
Does it ever seem that people around you just don't get that you are an indivdual, with a life, and that your time is just as important as theirs? But then again I am a mother and I should never expect my child to think that my time is anythiing but his. My boss, although a really nice person, will think nothing of asking me to do something on my lunch hour for her. And the other members that live in this house.....well lets just say, they both think I am a personal maid. I went on strike once. After a week and a half, the house was so disgusting. One of them finally got up and did some cleaning and then expected me to praise him for it."See what I did!!" or was he tryinig to make me feel guilty because I let the house get that way? I know my kid thinks I have turned into a raving lunatic, because it seems I spend more time yelling at him than anything these days, but he IS the biggest offender of "her time is my time" I just gave up a four day weekend vacation, because he had hockey tryouts. Did I get so much as a thanks, nooooooo, what I got was,
"take me to Ybor for a concert"
"take me clothes shopping"
"take me to work"
"take me to my girlfriends"
"I need a DR appt"
"Call this guy on this car I want".............etc etc etc. Excuse me!! I was supposed to be in NC right now!!
I am stressed to the point that small things I would normally shrug off can put me close to over the edge. And the things that do piss me off, well it would be better to not be around. What I have determined is I am in really bad need of a vacation. I mean the out of state, longer than a week, relax, do what I WANT vacation. Unfortunatly that doesn't come until July. I was hoping the long weekend would tie me over, but I guess not. I sat outside the rink the other night and it was quiet. I revelled in the lack of noise. My mind drifted off. I was sitting on my fathers balcony over looking the James River in VA. The only sounds to be heard in the early evening is the water of the river and the occasional train that runs on the tracks on the other side of it. Humming birds hover nearby at the feeders. It is so quiet you can actually hear the hum of their wings. As the sun goes down the fireflies come out and you get your own personal light show......ahhhh yessssssssss. Being suddenly jerked from that tranquil moment sucked. Count down the days to departure and try to keep myself on even keel. Deep breath, count, 1....2.....3.....4...
Thursday, May 20, 2004
Days Gone By
I was sitting in one of my fav hangouts the other night, I think its more a fav place to hangout because of the company I usually keep when I am there, and I was watching the Lightning play and got to talking to George and Fred about how things were when we were growing up and what we did for fun. Things were so different. I was growing up in Connecticut and was about 8 or 9. My older brother and I would get to driving my mother nuts so she would basically throw some brown bags together and tell us to get out of the house. It also meant don't come home for awhile. When this happened we would usually go next door and grab Kevin and Lisa and then another house down and grab Ron. Off the five of us would go for the days adventure. We would wander down the road about a mile or so, then up the hillside, scale the 15 foot cliff and head into the woods. Now the woods seemed to go on forever. We had our options of going anywhere, any direction. We would usually visit our old discoveries and then venture off to find some new fantastic world. We had found an old abandoned house, a small clearing, with all kinds of large boulders protruding from the ground, and a meadow with tall, tall grass that was great for hiding. This particular day we went toward a path we had never noticed before. It wound through the trees and up another hill and eventually opened up to a small graveyard. This graveyard was different, It was not the huge marble stones you usually saw but the headstones were all wood or flat grey slate. Most were tattered and worn. Now this was really cool to a bunch of 8, 9 and 10 year olds. We checked the dates and I remember us being amazed because they went back to the 1860's.
We stayed out all day, laying in the grass, climbing the rocks, playing hide and seek, and discovering so much that was in our back yard. We spent the day outdoors, with our friends, talking and laughing and enriching our minds. We got exercise. Breathed in clean air. Learned how to talk with others and learned to use our imaginations. We were explorers. As kids we had fun. We entertained ourselves for an entire morning and afternoon. And my mom, well, she got peace and quiet.
I think back to the wonder that we found in the world around us. We didn't have video games and only had 5 channels on TV. Can our children not learn this world that we came to know because of all the electronic doodads that we have given them, or is it because we no longer can tell our 8,9 and 10 year olds to skidaddle for the day, outside, unsupervised? Is there too much evil that lurks around the corner to hurt them? Would HRS be on our asses?? These day long journeys were some of the best times I can remember. As a 9 year old it was freedom from the reins of my parents and it was an adventure because no one was telling me that climbing the cliff was too dangerous. It was food for my brain and an understanding of the world around me that my son will never have. I don't take trips back to my childhood haunts. I like remembering the way they were. 30 some years of progress would only destroy the pleasure I still find in those memories.
We stayed out all day, laying in the grass, climbing the rocks, playing hide and seek, and discovering so much that was in our back yard. We spent the day outdoors, with our friends, talking and laughing and enriching our minds. We got exercise. Breathed in clean air. Learned how to talk with others and learned to use our imaginations. We were explorers. As kids we had fun. We entertained ourselves for an entire morning and afternoon. And my mom, well, she got peace and quiet.
I think back to the wonder that we found in the world around us. We didn't have video games and only had 5 channels on TV. Can our children not learn this world that we came to know because of all the electronic doodads that we have given them, or is it because we no longer can tell our 8,9 and 10 year olds to skidaddle for the day, outside, unsupervised? Is there too much evil that lurks around the corner to hurt them? Would HRS be on our asses?? These day long journeys were some of the best times I can remember. As a 9 year old it was freedom from the reins of my parents and it was an adventure because no one was telling me that climbing the cliff was too dangerous. It was food for my brain and an understanding of the world around me that my son will never have. I don't take trips back to my childhood haunts. I like remembering the way they were. 30 some years of progress would only destroy the pleasure I still find in those memories.
Saturday, May 15, 2004
Religion
I see many people cringing at that title, but this isn't about preaching or discussing religion itself. I got an e-mail from my brother today and he discussed his religion and beliefs as he often does in his letters and it struck me how different I and all my siblings are in our beliefs. We were all raised in the same. We were raised Catholic, went to church every Sunday and either went to CCD classes or were in Catholic School My mother raised us all the same and no exceptions were made. There are 4 of us and I find it interesting the differences we all have when it comes to religion.
My oldest brother, well he just questions the existence of a creator and supreme being. He doesn't deny the existence but he doesn't necessarily believe either. My younger sister is the middle of the road. She goes to church on Sundays and generally follows the Catholic rules. Then there is my younger brother......he is the strong Catholic. Faithfully to church every Sunday and every religious holiday. He believes in the Catholic laws and applies it to his everyday life. Me, I believe in God but not in any particular denomination. I lost my belief in the Catholic Church when my son, while attending a Catholic School, was told that his mother would go to hell because she was divorced. I went and talked to the principal, but he wouldn't do anything about it. Said my son must have been mistaken.
I just find it interesting that 4 kids in the same house all believe in different things. Is it the life experiences that alter the way we view religion? And if you believe in God, does he really care how we worship him?
My oldest brother, well he just questions the existence of a creator and supreme being. He doesn't deny the existence but he doesn't necessarily believe either. My younger sister is the middle of the road. She goes to church on Sundays and generally follows the Catholic rules. Then there is my younger brother......he is the strong Catholic. Faithfully to church every Sunday and every religious holiday. He believes in the Catholic laws and applies it to his everyday life. Me, I believe in God but not in any particular denomination. I lost my belief in the Catholic Church when my son, while attending a Catholic School, was told that his mother would go to hell because she was divorced. I went and talked to the principal, but he wouldn't do anything about it. Said my son must have been mistaken.
I just find it interesting that 4 kids in the same house all believe in different things. Is it the life experiences that alter the way we view religion? And if you believe in God, does he really care how we worship him?
Friday, May 14, 2004
Dead Man Walking
Dead Man Walking. An interesting term used for inmates taking that last walk to the room where their life will end. I heard it used today at work. We recently got notice of 7500 people in the company being laid in off in June and we wondered if those that had been slated to leave in March and then were reassigned, were considered part of that 7500 people. The answer soon came and we were told that the ones who were reassigned were considered "dead men walking" and were not part of the 7500. Hmmmmmmm. The thoughts I had over the use of this phrase ranged from one end of the scale to the other. At first I thought , "how appropriate" we are already slated to be let go when these temp jobs we have been assigned to,are over with, so in a sense we are dead men walking. Our lives here are limited and we know that what we have will come to an end, much like an inmate on death row knows that sooner or later his life in prison will do the same.
Now I really got a chuckle over that though, cause working here is like being in a prison, but getting axed, isn't death, its freedom.
At the other end of the spectrum I got a little angry. Does this place think our lives are over if we aren't working here? HA! I got news for them. This ain't no picnic. Living each day in uncertainty really sucks. And having ethics crammed down your throat everyday because of crimes the CEO and his compadres commited, well that in itself makes ya gag when you walk in the door. Lets not get started on the "don't steal the office supplies" line I recieved the other day. Excuse me, I think the last time this company gave me supplies was in 1999. I have even had to go buy my own batteries in order to use the headset that I need in order to do my job. Oh unless you were talking about the head set. ......Hahahahaha,........... oh please. But it would also be typical of this company to think its paradise and that leaving it would be like death. The ego that is this company. An ego so big that when it bought us out it actually dumped customers. Whos laughing at that now? Ooops that was me. No I can't say that when I walk out the door for the last time its going to make me fall to the ground and cry out "MY LIFE IS OVER!!!" more than likely it will be like a huge weight has been lifted.
Dead Man Walking?? No. Just Sniff looking for new cheese. But thats another story.
Now I really got a chuckle over that though, cause working here is like being in a prison, but getting axed, isn't death, its freedom.
At the other end of the spectrum I got a little angry. Does this place think our lives are over if we aren't working here? HA! I got news for them. This ain't no picnic. Living each day in uncertainty really sucks. And having ethics crammed down your throat everyday because of crimes the CEO and his compadres commited, well that in itself makes ya gag when you walk in the door. Lets not get started on the "don't steal the office supplies" line I recieved the other day. Excuse me, I think the last time this company gave me supplies was in 1999. I have even had to go buy my own batteries in order to use the headset that I need in order to do my job. Oh unless you were talking about the head set. ......Hahahahaha,........... oh please. But it would also be typical of this company to think its paradise and that leaving it would be like death. The ego that is this company. An ego so big that when it bought us out it actually dumped customers. Whos laughing at that now? Ooops that was me. No I can't say that when I walk out the door for the last time its going to make me fall to the ground and cry out "MY LIFE IS OVER!!!" more than likely it will be like a huge weight has been lifted.
Dead Man Walking?? No. Just Sniff looking for new cheese. But thats another story.
Destiny
Today I was asked if I believe in destiny.
To me destiny is kinda like a maze. There is one beginning and one end. And while we know where the beginning is, do we know anything about the end? Once in the maze/life, you have a choice to turn left, right, or go straight, and each choice you make takes you to in another direction with a different experience. Like life we never know what is a round the corner, just as we don't know what the big guy upstairs has in mind for us. Are we destined to be famous? poor? alone? rich? Isn't that all a matter of what goals we have set for ourselves? . Along the path we find many obstacles. They either break us or make us stronger. We either learn from them or are destroyed by them. Do these highs and lows shape our destiny?
Can we say that superman was destined to be a hero and Lex Luthor was destined to be a villain? Maybe if Superman were raised in the foster system he would have been the villain and had Lex been in a loving family environment he could have been the hero.
When a child proclaims that he will be president, and works to achieve that goal, and one day finds himself sitting behind the White House desk, has he realized his destiny? What about us poor schleps that just wanna lead a good life? Is that our destiny? Maybe our destiny and our goals are the same thing. Maybe some folks know their destiny and others only have them revealed when we meet our maker and review our lives. I figure I'm the latter. Destiny, ya, I believe in it, but like the maze, I have no idea where the end is.
To me destiny is kinda like a maze. There is one beginning and one end. And while we know where the beginning is, do we know anything about the end? Once in the maze/life, you have a choice to turn left, right, or go straight, and each choice you make takes you to in another direction with a different experience. Like life we never know what is a round the corner, just as we don't know what the big guy upstairs has in mind for us. Are we destined to be famous? poor? alone? rich? Isn't that all a matter of what goals we have set for ourselves? . Along the path we find many obstacles. They either break us or make us stronger. We either learn from them or are destroyed by them. Do these highs and lows shape our destiny?
Can we say that superman was destined to be a hero and Lex Luthor was destined to be a villain? Maybe if Superman were raised in the foster system he would have been the villain and had Lex been in a loving family environment he could have been the hero.
When a child proclaims that he will be president, and works to achieve that goal, and one day finds himself sitting behind the White House desk, has he realized his destiny? What about us poor schleps that just wanna lead a good life? Is that our destiny? Maybe our destiny and our goals are the same thing. Maybe some folks know their destiny and others only have them revealed when we meet our maker and review our lives. I figure I'm the latter. Destiny, ya, I believe in it, but like the maze, I have no idea where the end is.
People
At work the other day a coworkwer came to me upset and close to tears. She is the lead in a group that is working on cleaning the companies network of circuits that are no longer in use, "line cost reduction". Anyway, Some of the folks that work under her were talking behind her back and making rude remarks about her that she overheard, needless to say, upsetting her. Now this is not the first time that this has happened. I have been privy to the many of the conversations that have gone on about her. I never repeat to her what I hear.....what good would that serve other than to upset her more. It seems that she is one of those folks that everyone likes to pick on to make themselves feel better.
Its funny cause I thought this was something that only children did, something that was part of adolescence. I remember the days in elementary school......it was Bonnie and Jackie that everyone was mean to. Bonnie because she came from a poor family, (I grew up in a community where the majority of folks were upper middle class white,) and Jackie because she was nieve and innocent. What was the purpose of that meaness? I don't really know. I always seemed to befriend the underdogs.......I didn't really care about what others thought of me back then......I guess I still don't, unless your one of my few friends. But maybe thats why in High School, after moving to a new state in my Junior year, when I became the focal point of the cruel words and cheap shots, I was lucky enough to find some really close friends in the other "rejects" in the school. We were a collective group of nerds, strange ones, over weight ones, and non natives. I found truer friends in these folks than in most other people. But I guess I have kinda wandered here and getting back to the whole thought of my ramblings, why?? why as adults would we still do this? As adults are we still unable to find worth in oursleves that we have to put others down to make ourselves important? I'm not talking aout the occasional snide remarks make, and I,m not talking about when we are being catty. I'm talking about the constant putting down of someone for no purpose other than to do it.....like children in school.
My coworker is an awesome person. She is bright, intelligent and big hearted. And as it was in HS, she has become one of those wonderful, trusted friends. Its a shame that life can't be like in the movie Shallow Hal, where everyone who is beautiful inside looks beautifulon the ouside, and those who are ugly inside look ugly in appearance as well. What would we all really see??
Its funny cause I thought this was something that only children did, something that was part of adolescence. I remember the days in elementary school......it was Bonnie and Jackie that everyone was mean to. Bonnie because she came from a poor family, (I grew up in a community where the majority of folks were upper middle class white,) and Jackie because she was nieve and innocent. What was the purpose of that meaness? I don't really know. I always seemed to befriend the underdogs.......I didn't really care about what others thought of me back then......I guess I still don't, unless your one of my few friends. But maybe thats why in High School, after moving to a new state in my Junior year, when I became the focal point of the cruel words and cheap shots, I was lucky enough to find some really close friends in the other "rejects" in the school. We were a collective group of nerds, strange ones, over weight ones, and non natives. I found truer friends in these folks than in most other people. But I guess I have kinda wandered here and getting back to the whole thought of my ramblings, why?? why as adults would we still do this? As adults are we still unable to find worth in oursleves that we have to put others down to make ourselves important? I'm not talking aout the occasional snide remarks make, and I,m not talking about when we are being catty. I'm talking about the constant putting down of someone for no purpose other than to do it.....like children in school.
My coworker is an awesome person. She is bright, intelligent and big hearted. And as it was in HS, she has become one of those wonderful, trusted friends. Its a shame that life can't be like in the movie Shallow Hal, where everyone who is beautiful inside looks beautifulon the ouside, and those who are ugly inside look ugly in appearance as well. What would we all really see??
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
