Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Beware the Ides of March

Happy March 15th, y'all. Seeing as I am not named Julius and Shakespeare has not written a play for me, I care not for the warning.

Oh best be careful. Instant Karma's gonna get me.

Okay -- I'm slightly superstitious, but normally just around those old wyves tayles from ye olde days. Black Cats, Ladders, Salt over Shoulder and that sort of thing. Calendar based superstitions rarely get to me.

What does get to me is funny signs.

No, not the M. Night Shamalamadingdongian kind of signs, but signs on the side of the road that have bizarre inconsistencies. A few months ago I wrote in my other journal of my indignation over a sign at a Newburyport pre-school, which stated Kids As Peacemakers, and the "peace" signs were Mercedes Logos. It made me mental. Kids as Corporate Shills instead of Peacemakers.

I drive past another one on a daily basis. There is a restaurant opening in Georgetown and I pass it each day, twice. On the way out and on the way home.

The sign out front announces: Family "Dinning" will take place here. I wonder if they serve "Desert" too. At least they didn't have "Openning" on the sign. I've seen that elsewhere, in Haverhill at a Chinese buffet. Openning Soon, the sign screamed. I suppose if English is not your first language you may make a mistake such as that. But... if your company is paid to make signs, and you proof-read them, and the owner of the restaurant hangs the sign WITH the mistake out front, there are many stupid parties involved here.

I'm afraid to eat here, if they'd hang a sign out that says Dinning. I wonder if the food here will be prepared better than the signage. Should I leave a note at the door and offer the services of proofreading their menus before they spend money printing up Alfreddo Sause and Shrimmp Cocktale?

I feel like taking the sign and a big red school teacher marker and correcting it with one of those proofready squiggly things that means "take this crap out!"

There isn't an HTML symbol for that squiggly thing.

Speaking of school teachers, many of you following my misadventures in life know I applied to graduate school this past fall. I missed the acceptance deadline for fall admittance by a few days, so I had to wait for admittance in February, which was last month (to those who are confused as to the date and time, it's now March. I know. In New England it still looks like deep, dark January, but trust me. It is March).

Seeing as it is March, and I hadn't been contacted for my admissions interview during the month of February, I sent an email today to the college to inquire (or inquire, I learned today that they both mean the same and it doesn't matter which you use! whowouldathunkit!)

I got an email back saying that the letters went out on Friday, and I should be getting something soon.

But I didn't get an interview.

So how do they accept me or possibly reject me?

I'm confused. Suffice to say, thus far I am underwhelmed with the levels of efficiency, support and knowledge the administrative end of this program offers. But. What does one expect? A recent news report that I heard stated that colleges are ill-equipped to train teachers and educational administrators, that the programs are too easy, and they are poorly run.

Sounds like they read my mind.

In the meantime, my husband says to me the other night that he is interested in becoming a physicians assistant (PA) and making scads more money a year doing pretty much what he's doing as a Speech-Language Pathologist. It means another degree for him. I'm thinking that if he can make scads more money, I'll take a back seat in the masters in technology education thing, and allow him to do what he needs to do.

Scads more money is awfully nice.

Speaking of money, I come to an anecdote about my job. Back in the day, I worked at a company with G (my boss)'s husband D. There were some cool and fun people who worked there. Kenna, Dara and Dan. And every day at 2pm we'd get together in KDD's office (that's Kenna, Dara and Dan) and we would have a "Humanity Moment." That would be probably nine years ago that we'd have this ritual.

In this venue a couple of years ago I wrote about the whole Humanity Moment thing. It was a time in the day where we would get together, grab an icecream or a soda, and just share one good thing, one pure, nice, wonderful thing, that reaffirmed our faith in humanity. It could be that the lunch Dan ate was just wonderful. Or, Kenna didn't get cut off by the jerk in the Mercedes who cut her off daily on the way to work. Or, that the bus from Boston didn't take 3 hours for Dara (commuting to Marblehead from Boston via bus is an interesting concept).

I brought up Dan to G today (she's friends with him, through the fact she was hired into the company after I'd left to go work at the college) and we reminisced about Dan and the weird old days. I brought up the Humanity Moment, and C and M, the two people who sit near me decided to do Humanity Moment with me.

Albeit at 4pm, long after the requisite time of start traditionally, it was really fun to introduce this concept to C and M. C, my girl the graphic designer, decided that ranking on M would be the route to go with her Humanity Moment.

I don't think she truly grasps the concept, but we had a big laugh nonetheless.

And that made my day.

So tomorrow, M is going on vacation. I'll suggest we do Humanity Moment before he departs for the day. And good vibes shall be spread about. What better way to leave for vacation than with good vibes, right?

Okay -- on that note, there are other things I'd love to talk about but this is just getting long and silly. I'll save my thoughts on Queer Eye for the Red Sox until later. Until then, you'll just have to quake with anticipation at what I could POSSIBLY have to offer in the realm of thought and opinion on THAT topic.

Goodnight.

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