(a)musings: cateringman

Showing posts with label cateringman. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 11, 2002

Yet... another... category four kill storm

You may be wondering just where the hell have I been?

Monday, yesterday, today, and Friday I am Catering Girl. Faithful and loyal sidekick to Catering Man. Preparing Crab Duexelle Mushroom Caps and Canapes. Wrapping baskets of tastefully assorted crackers. Skewering artichoke hearts and chicken strips, breading them and making them shine as only a handmade appetizer can.

He's had no business for weeks, and now -- boom. Holiday parties up the ying yang. They changed their policy where they won't cater anything smaller than 50 people, so all the jobs are bigassed. The smallest one was tonight, and it was a favor to a customer who only needed hors d'ouevres for 30, and they only needed them dropped off, no serving staff or anything. So that's easy money for Cateringman.

I hadn't worked for him for weeks, and forgot everything. Today I screwed up the premixing of salt and pepper by using hand cracked black pepper instead of table grind.

Duh?

Anyway. It's been fun working again, and I'm nowhere near as sore as I was when I started working for him this past spring. I missed Lisa and Chris. The dishwasher Hodgie makes me laugh my ass off. Mr. Mysogynist is gone -- he took a job as a regional sales rep for a company based out of Texas, so he moved. Chris and I have a side bet on when he'll come back after the sales weasel money dries up and the company goes out of business (like the last one he worked for).

Cateringman will keep us all busy for a couple of weeks and then whamo -- it'll all stop until April. He's going to Aruba for a while, and then Tuscany for most of the month of March. Must be nice, eh? [grin].

He deserves it though -- he works hard running the business and riding my ass about not wrapping things tightly enough or not chopping evenly enough. The business has grown like mad, thanks in no part to me, and he deserves a big break.

Yesterday I cut my left thumb to shit, for the first time in months and months I injured myself at work. I was fine chopping scallions for the pasta station, and had the bunch of scallions pinched together tightly in my left fingers... chop chop chop chop. Ouch, God Bless America!!! I clipped the inside of my thumb (closest part to the index finger) with the butt end of the knife, which in Cateringman land is just as sharp as the tip.

I'm hardcore though. I busted ass and worked through the pain. And seeing as I've been saving the world in time for the buffet to be served, I've been a tired little girl. I was grumpy when I got home. Doug let me take a nap in the bedroom (normally he retires to the boudoir but this time stayed on the couch and watched TV and snoozed) and he ordered pizza. So effectively I had the night off from being mom. A beer and "24" later I felt a bit better, but I slept like the dead last night.

There hasn't been much to report. I have no witty anecdotes, haven't done any Christmas shopping. We still don't know if Doug's parents will be coming up to join us for Christmas or not, so I don't know what to plan for the holiday. It's kind of frustrating, because I have 2 weeks to pull Christmas out of my big fat ass for everyone.

I still haven't heard from the college job. I got called by a recruiting agency who found my resume on Monster.com and wanted further info on where I was looking to work, salary requirement, etc. So that was kind of nice.

Friends of ours got a new dog. They already have a schnauzer, and had a bulldog too but due to some aggressive behavior problems and somewhat unpredictable biting they gave him up to some folks in New Hampshire who would be better equipped to deal with him.. Both of them were devastated, to say the least, to give away their baby. He was a good dog -- but something recently screwed with his mind and altered his perceptions of small people (ie kids...). Seeing as they were bummed, they decided they needed another puppy. This is Carrie's Christmas Present:

Meet Axel.

I had suggested Figgis as a name. A friend of mine named her dog Figgis (a Boxer) and it is just the funnest name to say. "C'mere, Figgisssssss" it just sounds so funny. But they changed their minds when they met him. He is SO CUTE! I can't wait to go get some puppy love from him. Look at that little face, and that nose. Oy. To die for. Love him. Eat him up yum.

Not that my dog isn't good enough or something... Jack rules. And he's still a puppy so he's still got that puppy sweetness about him. New puppies and new babies just make me melt.

So a special welcome here to Mr. Axel. Be good to your momma and dadda, wouldya?

Speaking of being good, right now I'd like to draw attention to my sister. She hates when I do this... but I feel the need.

I was talking to Aaron and he said that he didn't have a camera to take with him to Antarctica. If I were working full time, I'da bought him a camera that day, but I am concerned with our finances over the next couple of weeks and months, so I couldn't just run out and buy him one. And I didn't want to LOAN him my camera, because I use it all the damn time. I'm lost without it.

So I called my sister.

She has a digicam, and she doesn't use it too too much. I figured she may be willing to loan it to him.

Not only was she willing to loan the digicam, but she also told me she has an Advantix camera so he can take cool panoramic shots of Antarctica where he'll be, so she threw that in. And, she is throwing in a couple rolls of film.

AND she offered to have him send her the film to get it developed where she goes because she's got some super discount dealie thing.

So, let's recap here -- sister asked for small favor of loaning camera. Returns with far more than expected response in the form of two cameras and some mother fucking film. Goes beyond that with offer to develop for discount.

She is, by far, the NICEST PERSON EVER. I was floored by her willingness to help out and her total givingnessnessness. She Rules.

So all bow down and worship the kindhearted, wonderwoman -- Linda!

I know I will.

Another class four death storm is approaching, although we may just get a mixy rainy thing out of the deal. A bit further inland and northward they should get a fair amount of weather. I've got to go get the laundry out of the basement and get dinner started before this next killer storm hits. I bought dogfood (so the dogs won't eat our carcasses immediately when we're all frozen to death) and bread (so we can have peanut butter and jelly in the post-storm power outage). We'll see if we survive.

Amy told me that she wanted to go with me to the grocery store next time I went so we could sing and dance in the aisles together... I would have brought her, but to be honest my back hurt, and my thumb was throbbin' and I didn't dance or do anything to shame my daughter...

this time..

Saturday, November 23, 2002

Naptime

Mr. Garfield emailed me and told me it is okay to nap, based on my comment at the end of the last entry. Naps are something I used to always take. When I was at the Oregon Extension in 1988, 3pm became the official time of "all those worthy of the name student" to curl up on a couch with a book and a couple friends and then fall asleep. Whoever woke up first was the dinner maker. Doug's roommate Andy started this tradition, and we used it many times through that fall semester, sleeping on the couch like a pile of puppies.

I think of Andy whenever I do get a chance to nap. Which isn't too often. I miss Andy sometimes. But that's a story for another day...

Yesterday afternoon. Interview. It was a momentous occasion, in that I got to drive the truck solo down the infamous highway to a west of Boston suburb (must find easier alternative route to Watertown instead of taking Rte 128. Could take Rte 1 to Rte 16 and cut across that way, but not sure it'd be a good move...)

Driving the truck is a pleasure. I cranked up Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds "Live at Luther College," and rocked down the highway. Found the location easily enough. They are a start-up company and a friend of mine works there, so he got me the interview.

This company is starting to grow, and needing desperately to pull people into the fold. I interviewed not necessarily for a job, but to figure out where my skills would fit into this growing company.

They basically said they'd want me to be doing web/print writing for technical documentation and user training, which sounds fabulous to me. They liked the samples of the work I brought. They liked me and told me they'd want me to come back in and meet the two chief dudes, one of which I met in passing and the other is out of town.

They are very flexible with work schedules. Most of the employees work from home or come into the office for a few hours a day. Others come in first thing in the morning and stay until all hours, working and working. Quite like Microserfs.

(In fact, I couldn't help but think of Microserfs when I was interviewing with the first guy because he kept talking about Look and Feel for web design. Look and Feel were the names of the gerbils or hamsters or whatever small furry they had at the Oop! offices in the book. I laughed. Look and Feel).

Anyway -- it'd be a dream job for me. But there is one problem.

They don't have money. So the employees are currently working unpaid...

The way it works is everyone keeps track of his or her hours, and are granted future stock in the company when the company goes public OR they are bought by a competitor.

Scenario 1 is: when the company goes public, and person A has 50,000 shares of stock, he can sell that day to make some money, in part or in full, whatever he needs. Or, he can just hold on to the stock and wait and see what happens (me, I'd be selling 25,000 shares that day so I can pay my bills!)

Scenario 2 is: if and when the company is bought by a competitor, they will arrange for all the stock granted to date to be converted to the new company's stock and given to the employees right then. So then everyone will get paid. So if say Microsoft buys them, person A gets 50,000 shares of Microsoft right then. If the company keeps all the employees, they go on the Microsoft payroll.

So there are no salaries as of yet, until they sell several versions of their software and service out in the world and established, with income to pay people before the IPO. They have one customer they are doing an installation for right this minute, another that was just signed up, and two more that are in negotiations. They aren't using Venture Capital funding (VC) but are using Angel funding, which I know nothing about. I don't know how it works. I don't know what the deal is with how the investment gets paid back. I just know they don't pay money.

They have about 15 people working there, for future stock. My friend has been there a year. The founders -- three years, with no pay. I asked the guy interviewing me how people make their Dodge Ram 1500 Quad Cab Truck Payments if they are not getting paid.

His answer -- most of the people there are married, and live off their spouse/partner's income. Others who are single and unsupported by another individual's income have sidejobs that they do in the form of consulting, contractor work. So they sometimes scale back what they're doing for this company for a few weeks, still working on their projects of course, but they focus on the moneymaker for a while. And the owners have no problem with that. They know what they have to do to get the company going, and they're very close to their big launch, and they seem incredibly willing to work with anyone's situation.

So.

I'm sure they want me to work for them. I'm sure I'd succeed and do a very super excellent job. But. I have a truck to pay for, and not enough Life Energy to be a mom, work a side contracting job, and work for these guys. Hmmm.

The college I applied to work for sent me a letter letting me know they'd received my information and are putting me into the interview pool, and they asked me to fill out an optional EEOC form (are you white and male? yes? seeya!) and requested my transcripts. So those are en-route. I'll keep you posted there too.

What else to report -- not much. Can't really think of anything. I had something on my mind that I was going to write about, but can't recall what. I'm sure it will come to me when I'm not able to access this machine. I have work to do for CM and MF today, and more cateringman menus. They liked the menus I made and then came up with other ones that they weren't going to put into the format I designed, but then thought better of it.

Monday, November 18, 2002

Staining the built-in

We survived the storm.

Now, all the bread I bought will get moldy. Fudge.

The weekend was a mostly stay-at-home event due to that weather. Jessie spent the day at a friend's house (the "K" girl who was in my group for the field trip earlier this year, the slightly odd one). So it was quiet around here, and I got Geoff's room completely cleaned up, again.

Sunday was sort of rainy and icy, and all seven members of the choir, plus the organist, the pastor and six parishoners turned up for church. It was kind of sad. The roads weren't that bad. But Sunday School was cancelled (the Sunday School director obviously had worse roadage near her house than I did...) which was why there were no kids and hence no adults in attendance. Our 10am service is all families and a few older single people.

We all stayed after church for coffee. It was a lot of fun, and I'm glad I went... normally I'd be wrestling with Geoff or Jessie'd be whining in my face that she wanted to go to her friend across the street's house for the day.

Football watching was fun. We almost had skin failure when Tommy Maddox of the Steelers was shown splinted up and being hauled off the field with an obvious back/neck injury (nearly jumped online to email Leatheregg, Chadster, CJK and Smitty all at once screaming my head off). But I restrained myself. I almost started crying when I saw him there, they flashed over during the game they broadcasted here (Bills. yawn).

He's got an amazing story -- He is this year's "Kurt Warner" in "amazing stories" kinds of ways. He was an insurance salesman, wanted to get back to football... He sent out letters begging any NFL franchise to give him a chance and the Steelers got him. He's had a great year so far stepping in as the QB for the struggling Kordell (although I love him, he just isn't ... performing as well as last year). It would so very suck to see the guy lose his ability to walk, lose his career... lose his second chance at everything. Sigh.

Today -- I finally got Home Improvement Project #2 - the built in cabinet - just about 100% completed.

Yes. I stained the bad boy. Holy cow it was a bitch and a half. Four and a half hours, 1.25 cans of stain. My hands are a mess.

After deliberating with my sister via long distance about whether or not I'd need them, I bought gloves and started the project at about noon.

The gloves were pimpy-cheap and my fingers popped through the fingertips, so I ended up tossing them. And yes, Linda, there was polyeurethane in the stain, so getting the stain off my hands was a party. The interior of the shelves was the hardest part. I made a big big mess.

It looks great, but I can't take a picture of it because I loaned Cateringman my camera so he could take some pictures. Plus, I'll get more email that says "your tv is still too small and pimpy in there..." Yes. I know. But it is the only TV I gots!

I applied for another job that I really really want, this time it is at a community college here in the Commonwealth. The position is exactly what I did at the college where I used to work, but it pays 12k more to start than I was earning four years ago. Which ain't too shabby.

I am perfect for the job, yet again. I want the job... yet again. I'm not getting my hopes up.

I sent my resume, portfolio and transcript to them via email. I asked all my former bosses/friends/cheerleaders for letters of recommendation. We'll see what happens.

Tomorrow, Geoff doesn't know it yet but we're taking a little trip up to see Wayne and Marcia in Maine. Geoff's school does a "grandparents' day" every November. Last year I ended up going and picking him up because he was SO distraught that his grandparents weren't there and everyone else's were. We're not running the chance of him going through THAT trauma again for a day of grandparent worship. If it were a Friday or a Monday or something, I'm sure my parents would come up for the weekend. But a Tuesday is a tough request from people who live 5 hours away. Doug's parents are 12 hours away in the far west of PA, so we never even ask them. So tomorrow will be a special day for Geoff and mommy, and his friend Pete... and I'll enjoy not having to sit here looking at the ceiling, which is Home Improvement Project #1, and it still isn't complete. It's close. But not complete.

I got some cool email about the roller conveyor. My friend Mr. Garfield shared his stories with me. And Tanager told me there's a conveyor roller slide at a park near Coolidge Corner in Boston. She also indirectly told me I had a fat ass... which made me laugh.

I'd share their emails with you. But I accidentally deleted them because I was on the phone with my sister and was distracted. I thought I was deleting the two pieces of spam I got today... but it was their emails that went down the tubes.

Enough. Dinner's in the oven. I'm gonna relax a bit, kick it in front of my beautifully stained home entertainment cabinet, natch!

Tuesday, November 05, 2002

Career Changes

Yesterday I worked like MAD on CM's website. Five hours and I finally ironed out all the mistakes and problems with the navigation. Holy crap was that a mess. My big fear now is that everything will break when we go to give it to the high school for their history department site and I'll have to fix everything again. Dreamweaver has been doing all kinds of crazy crap lately on me -- coding links to point to my C drive, to the root directory of the college site when I don't WANT them linked there. I was very frustrated yesterday, and now that things look fixed, I don't feel better... I'm nervous.

He just sent me a boat load more content, so I have a ton of work to do today. I haven't called catering man to see if he needs me this week and to be honest -- I'd rather not work for him with all this webstuff in my bag. I'll call him tonight, I can probably work for him Friday.

I also have a lot of work to do on MF's site, this week and the next four weeks are lacking content and need some sprucing up in a big way. I also have to find out from the students if they don't know how to create a powerpoint presentation, and make myself available to them to teach them, because their final projects are 50% of their grade and I want to make sure they know what they are doing. I will reserve the lab down at the college some night if they want me to. So much to do.

I extended my unemployment 13 weeks, which is nice but I'd like to not be on unemployment anymore and have some kind of real income.

Last night I got a phone call from an old friend. The woman Doug and I worked with to buy this house, S, is a buyer's broker. We've kept in contact over the last 6 years, but hadn't talked for about a year. She just had a new baby, and was calling to let us know the life update for her and her husband (who, by the by, is a contractor and has done a load of work on our house).

We were chatting about me getting laid off and not working full time, and she told me I should look into getting a real estate license and coming to work for her.

Now, normally, I'd cringe at the thought of being a real estate agent. But a buyer's broker is something totally different than a real estate agent.

Real estate agents work for the seller, want the house to sell for absolutely the most money so they can make the biggest slice of pie, and have little care about what a buyer wants. Our personal experience with real estate agents was pretty negative until we met S.

A buyer's broker works for the buyer and does things that the real estate agent will not do. For instance, S went to a planning board meeting on our behalf when we were trying to buy this house and there was a problem with the property line. The listing broker for the house didn't give a crap, and certainly the seller didn't want to put that much effort in. S knew that unless we went before the planning board, unless SOMEone went before the planning board, the house would never get sold, or in our case bought...

We never would have gotten this house if she hadn't been on our side. The same goes for the real estate agent who listed and sold the house next door to us twice in the last six years. She was a bonehead, and I just can't get into why.

Buyer's brokers don't make a lot of money off the sale -- they have to split the commission with the listing broker, so real estate agents hate buyer's brokers because they do no work whatsoever to show the house and only get half the money. They feel ripped off for doing no work. But last year, S worked six months and made over 50,000. She told me that in this market working part time and doing something else part time (in her case, parenting) she's still making money. But it isn't about the money per se. It is more about doing something fun and challenging.

She said that her job changes every day, with every client, kind of like doing web design... and that's what keeps it fresh and interesting. So that appeals to me greatly. She's made great friends with people and has kept in contact with people like us. The office where she works is going to be losing an assistant broker soon because the woman just found out she's pregnant with twins (sound familiar, Chad?) and will be going on bed rest at 20 weeks. So the timing could be perfect if I wanted to step into it. I'd have to take a weekend class, and then a test, and pay for a license.

With houses selling around here for $400,000, 2 to 4 percent of that is pretty nice. I may just have to look further into this.

I got a nice email from a college friend who said:

"I did celebrate Samhain as I have for many years.. I would like to you to know I remembered Clayton not only for You but for me, he always made me laugh and that is something I need to do more often.

"As I threw the corn into the fire.. " I honor you Clayton, for your gift of Laughter.""

And that made me feel pretty good. Knowing that someone actually read what I said, didn't get mad that as a Christian I'm wishing people a happy Samhain (honestly, I fear people who read this journal sometimes. If they are from my college past and are all hyper-evangelistic, they now think I'm going straight to hell because I'm tolerant of other beliefs, read homosexual blogs, I swear and had a heroin-addicted friend). But the person above who emailed me went to my same Christian college and she herself celebrates the ancients. Good for her. I honestly believe -- good for anyone who celebrates their faith in nonviolent, non-oppressive ways. May I continue to celebrate my faith in Father, Son, Holy Spirit in a way that may inspire others when they've been scared by the overtly zealous in the past.

Anyway -- I just thought I'd share that little email from J. Thank you J. You rule.

What else -- ah yes, today being election day I will simply encourage readers to do one thing today -- go and vote. I don't care who you vote for -- go vote.

We live in a society filled with the "I don't give a shit"ness types who don't go out and vote but continually complain when politicians aren't doing the right thing or their taxes get raised or proposition 2 1/2 overrides do or don't get passed.

You cannot complain if you don't participate. As Homer Simpson says, "Don't blame ME, I voted for Kodos."

I don't care WHO you are or what you think -- if you do not take an active role in picking your world leaders, from local representatives to the president -- I don't want to hear your whining.

The Onion recently had a funny article about a guy who votes in EVERY election. His coworkers think he has a problem. He thinks it is his civic duty and an honor as a free citizen to vote in everything, from electing the town dog catcher to electing the governor. It was a very funny article, poking fun at overtly active voters but also poking fun at people who think voting is a waste of time. Unfortunately, it isn't archived on the web, but trust me -- as usual The Onion hit the nail on the head.

Alright. This entry has taken me a long time. I'm going to get showered, go vote, eat food, and sit back and watch who ends up being my governor tonight in probably the too closest to call election in this state since Bill Weld got elected. Go vote, damnit. And have a great day.

Thursday, October 17, 2002

It was 7:55 a.m

Doug was up and out of bed, and turned the alarm off rather than leaving it in a state to cause me to hit the snooze several dozen times while he showered and got ready in the bathroom.

For a half hour, I slept deeply. Very deeply. I had this dream in which my friend Ben was telling me a story about helping a Puerto Rican maintenance worker from the college move from one apartment to another.

In the dream, he tells me that while he is getting ready to meet the guy the phone rings. It is 1:30 in the morning (in his story) and he can't figure out why he needs to help a guy start moving at 1:30 in the morning. He can't even figure out WHY he's helping this guy, because he hardly knows him, and can only think that he's "a big fat sucker." So I start laughing at his self depreciation. He lets the machine answer the ringing phone because he is in a hurry.

The voice in the other end of the phone starts babbling hoping Ben will pick up, which he doesn't. Ben imitates the man in a voice that sounds a lot like "Fez" from "that 70s Show."

The man wants to know when Ben will be there, and eventually says something like "Oh, Ben. I guess you are already gone so I'll stop talking. You aren't picking up so I'll see you later..." the usual thing people do when they know the person isn't there... all in Fez Voice coming out of Ben's mouth.

And im my dream, I'm reclined on the couch in his livingroom laughing. Laughing my ass off.

I can smell bagels, and I can hear Sports Radio with Dennis and Callahan on WEEI Boston in the background. I'm laughing and laughing at Ben's Fez imitation and his ongoing exploits in regards to helping the guy move... And I'm aware in my sleep that I'm in the kind of place while sleeping where you're awake but asleep. I feel like any second now I'm going to start laughing in my own bed instead of on the brown couch at 1 South Street.

I still smell bagels, and I hear Ben telling more of the story in his own voice. Couches, staircases... And there is this amazing levity in my heart, I think there is a smile on my face while I'm asleep here...

I hear, "Good morning Geoffrey."

I hear, "Good morning Dad. I pee'd my bed. I have to get mom."

There is a naked little boy standing next to my bed telling me that he needs a shower. He woke me up rather than letting his dad (who I heard offer to help and attempted to stop him from waking me up, by the way) put him in the shower.

"No, I want mom to do it."

What's the difference kid?

Why do I have to put you in the shower when your own father, a willing participant at this moment, offers to do it? Is there something special about the way I turn on the water and yell at you to wash your whole body and not miss a spot? Is there something special that only I can do in regards to making sure the shower head is aimed correctly and the curtain is closed all the way?

It is 7:55a.m. This is my life.

I'm not sure why that dream-me thought Ben's story was so funny. I don't remember details of the story of the move, just the Fez Voice. I'm not sure why Ben would be helping some guy move other than he has a really big Dodge Durango. I realize as I'm scrubbing the mattress and trying to analyze the source of such a bizarre dream that my day is now officially "on." I am up, Geoff ran to the bathroom and Doug makes the assist and gets the shower running (he also gets him out of the shower while I'm cleaning up his dirty laundry).

Last night Jessica pulled out a loose tooth, all on her own, without fuss. She said it was loose for one day. She's got two teeth that have been loose for six months and refuse to come out. The adult teeth are up behind them, resulting in an inability on her part to brush correctly. We're going to the dentist to have the baby teeth extracted next week. She won't pull those ones out, but this one, "pop!"

She knows about the tooth fairy so she took a dollar in quarters out of the coin jar. I told her once you stop believing in the tooth fairy, you don't get no money for yer teeth! She pouted and I let her keep the money. She handed me the tooth and went on her way.

I have most of her teeth. One she lost at school in second grade and then lost in her classroom. The tooth fairy left her money anyway.

So my question is -- is it gross of me to keep her baby teeth? I kept them before just to hide them and so I could show her that I was the tooth fairy when the issue came up (she was impressed that I had them). Do other moms keep their child/ren's baby teeth? Is this utterly revolting or is it something everyone does? If you have any feedback, let me know. I'm sorely tempted now to get rid of them. Doug thinks it is gross.

I'm starting to think he is right.

Yesterday was a cateringman day. It was a hopping place. Five of us working doing prep, Cateringman taking calls and making orders for stuff and going to the store to grab stuff needed immediately. Two dishwashers. Sales Representatives from supply companies just "swinging by..." absolute chaos. Noisy, fun chaos. It was a pretty good day. It also rained like it did on Noah once upon a time. I had to run to the grocery store for an immediate need and got drenched in the process. Today is a professor MF day, and it is the first class session in many weeks that I don't have my heart in my throat with anxiety about how the class is going to work. I am relaxed, I need to shower and get ready, do more laundry and get down to the college, so this is a quickie. Not much to report. Fall is in full startup mode and I want to get some nice pictures of the trees in the yard before they are all "stripped bare of all they wear (but what do I care?)" Tra la, tra la. That's all for now.

Wednesday, October 09, 2002

New Sink, job interview

The plumber is here. He's doing his plumbery thing. Geoff is all over him. Fascinated. It is all I can do to keep him from talking the guy's ear off about tools, where our sink is going, and Spiderman.

Anyway.

I am glad we'll soon have a new sink. And I'm glad I had a professional come in to do it. When he removed the cold water pipe, it busted in half. The drain pipe crumbled in his hands.

The guys I work with at cateringman's were all "Go to home depot, buy a factory second sink for 40 bucks, install it yourself. How hard can that be?"

Um, yeah. Plumbing and the residents of this house do not mix, friends.

There are two home improvement items we don't muck around with. Plumbing and electrical stuff. No way. Electrical stuff scares the bejezus out of me. Plumbing is easy enough to screw up and have an instant catastrophe on your hands to deal with.

I must say here though that I am very proud that my husband made do and did the work he did for as long as he did to prevent us from calling a plumber in immediately. He tried very hard. Did a great job.

Well. Today is not just groovy new sink day, it is interview day! As Spongebob Squarepants says: "I'm READY!!!!"

I'll be using the groovy new sink to brush my teeth and apply makeup over, and then I'll be off to sit in front of oh... 9 people or so, and make my case for why I'd be an asset to this institution of higher education.

I feel like puking already.

I don't know why I'm nervous. I normally never GET nervous before an interview. I interview very well for the most part. I remember to amazing detail the interviews I had for my last company and for the last college I worked at... even what everyone was wearing.

Let's see if I blank on this one or puke on the conference table. I'm sure it's been done before in history.

There really isn't much of interest to report in my life right now. I did get thank you notes from the girls (even my own daughter) that I chaperoned. Which made me smile. K. wrote me that it was the best field trip she's ever been on because she learned so much and I was so smart. Hey. Truer words never spoken, eh? cough gag.

Oh, and speaking of Spongebob... what the hell is the deal with people running around saying he's gay.

All of the Boston Talk Stations yesterday were on this story, and it was way over the top.

The news reports I heard initially said the show is popular with gay men. Which is fine. So are the Powerpuff Girls.

And surprise surprise people. Both are popular with people with senses of HUMOR. Gay or straight. Duh!

The discussion warped to "Spongebob is Gay."

How does one wander to that conclusion automatically. Really. Does it MATTER if gay people LIKE the show a lot and think it's funny? And does that automatically make the character and storylines "gay?"

Millions of people gay and straight are SBSP fans. Myself and my husband and my kids totally included.

If you need to categorize him, I actually think Spongebob is more like an evangelical than a "gay" person. Look at his personality:

He is kind
He is lighthearted
He is very very genuinely happy in a life-loving way
He is enthusiastic about everything in life... his work, his friends, jellyfishing, karate...
He is annoying to those who don't understand him (ie Squidward)

I think that someone somewhere along the lines read too much into an episode that aired recently. SB's "sexual" role sort of comes into play when he and his buddy Patrick find a lost sea scallop who needed a home.

They "adopt" the scallop. SB assumes the "mother" role, cleaning, caring for the baby, wearing himself out to maintain the household. Patrick shuffles off each morning to "work" in a tie and a hat, with briefcase in hand, and returns home dog-shit tired and ready for a beer.

By the way -- Patrick's "job" was sitting in over his own apartment watching TV. He came home exhausted on a nightly basis, because it's hard watching TV all day. Sometimes the remote control falls on the floor and you have to find it. And all the clicking around the dials... wears a guy out, ya know.

So they weren't necessarily being "gay" in the sexual sense. I believe the writers were more or less just illustrating how parenting works, and they were dangerously close to ending up like Paula Cole's "Where Have all the Cowboys Gone" song.

I suppose the creators would have been better suited to pair up SB with Sandy Squirrel, but SB and Patrick are such good friends, and their relationship is funnier than that of Sandy and SB.

I didn't read "sex" into the relationship for that episode personally. Did you?

When "The Lion King" came out, no pun intended, everyone was insistant that Scar (voiced deliciously by Jeremy Irons) was homosexual. He was "single" and had a British accent and was evil, but charming all at the same time.

I mean, when I was watching the movie, I didn't think immediately about the stupid lion's sexuality. Same with Timon and Pumbaa. Everyone says THEY are gay. First of all -- they aren't even the same species. I can see how Chip and Dale, the chipmunks of Looney Tunes fame could possibly be "gayish," again with the whole English accent and proper grammar thing. All gays are SO proper (snarf) aren't they?

"Oh, do let's invade the duck's cellar and get all the acorns!"
"Indeed, dear sir! Invade is such a rogue term! Let us stealthily procure said acorns under darkness of night. After tea."
"Very well then, after you."
"No, I insist -- after you..."

I read a great book that looks into the creation process of comics and the possibility of underlying homosexuality. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, by Michael Chabon. It was a fabulous story -- about two cousins, one is gay but quite closeted. Together they build a comic empire, and the gay cousin ends up getting dragged into testify in court against his will that all the comics are gay propaganda stories. Pairing men and young boys into exciting relationships. The wearing of tights. The riding one seater motorcycles together...

It's a horrible situation for him. He created wonderful stories that had nothing to DO with HIS sexuality... but others interpreted his personal life as being broadcasted through the characters to children across the country. His empire crumbles. It is... sad.

I highly recommend the novel if you're looking for something to read by the fireside this fall.

Anyway -- Spongebob isn't gay. But if he was... I'd be alright with that. He's a nice guy. I think Squidward is gay. But that's a whole nother analysis for another day. Guffaw.

I'm going to go hang out in the living room now. I'm sure I'll post later or tomorrow about my interview. Just remember. Good vibes/mojo/prayers my way for 3:15 p.m. And hope I don't barf on things.

And, I'm going to use my new sink. More later...

ain't she purdy?

New Sink, job interview

Anyway.

I am glad we'll soon have a new sink. And I'm glad I had a professional come in to do it. When he removed the cold water pipe, it busted in half. The drain pipe crumbled in his hands.

The guys I work with at cateringman's were all "Go to home depot, buy a factory second sink for 40 bucks, install it yourself. How hard can that be?"

Um, yeah. Plumbing and the residents of this house do not mix, friends.

Well. Today is not just groovy new sink day, it is interview day! As Spongebob Squarepants says: "I'm READY!!!!"

I feel like puking already.

Let's see if I blank on this one or puke on the conference table. I'm sure it's been done before in history.

Oh, and speaking of Spongebob... what the hell is the deal with people running around saying he's gay.

All of the Boston Talk Stations yesterday were on this story, and it was way over the top.

The news reports I heard initially said the show is popular with gay men. Which is fine. So are the Powerpuff Girls.

And surprise surprise people. Both are popular with people with senses of HUMOR. Gay or straight. Duh!

The discussion warped to "Spongebob is Gay."

Millions of people gay and straight are SBSP fans. Myself and my husband and my kids totally included.

If you need to categorize him, I actually think Spongebob is more like an evangelical than a "gay" person. Look at his personality:

He is kind
He is lighthearted
He is very very genuinely happy in a life-loving way
He is enthusiastic about everything in life... his work, his friends, jellyfishing, karate...
He is annoying to those who don't understand him (ie Squidward)

I suppose the creators would have been better suited to pair up SB with Sandy Squirrel, but SB and Patrick are such good friends, and their relationship is funnier than that of Sandy and SB.

I didn't read "sex" into the relationship for that episode personally. Did you?

I highly recommend the novel if you're looking for something to read by the fireside this fall.

Anyway -- Spongebob isn't gay. But if he was... I'd be alright with that. He's a nice guy. I think Squidward is gay. But that's a whole nother analysis for another day. Guffaw.

I'm going to go hang out in the living room now. I'm sure I'll post later or tomorrow about my interview. Just remember. Good vibes/mojo/prayers my way for 3:15 p.m. And hope I don't barf on things.

And, I'm going to use my new sink. More later...

ain't she purdy?

Sunday, September 22, 2002

I am a Gen X'er

The past few days have been a flurry of work, work, housework, running kids around, and more work. I've been at cateringman's for three straight days. I'm off the hook today and tomorrow, today being Thursday and I must work with prof MF on her class so that means I can't possibly dedicate myself to working for him (he understands, his wife is a colleague of prof MF so he knows how much work I'm doing over there). Tomorrow I'm chaperoning a field trip for my daughter's class.

Hurricane Isidore should hit right as we are getting on the busses. We're heading to Portsmouth NH, and it's a mostly outdoor trip, so I'm wondering if they will postpone it.

If they don't, I'll need a good rain hat.

Anyway -- back to my life. Which is what this is all about, right?

I finished reading Microserfs, which I started this summer while in Chicago. It was on Scott and Sarita's bookshelf, so during the three days we spent there I read about three quarters of it. On Monday I took Geoff to get a new pair of glasses because his current pair was just constantly popping out the left lens. They actually gave that pair back, which they usually don't do, but the manager of this particular lenscrafters has been really good to us, and he's cool... so he handed them to me and told me that I should keep them as a back up just in case of emergency.

We went to the bookstore while waiting, and I grabbed three Douglas Coupland books. Microserfs, Generation X and Miss Wyoming. I wanted Girlfriend in a Coma but they didn't have it.

So in finishing Microserfs, I'm noticing that I think it will be a perfect novel to incorporate into the class I'm co teaching with professor CM this spring on Technology and Society.

I just started reading Generation X... and Amy, if you are reading this -- I think Coupland agrees with you twenty fold on your passionate life stance. You should check it out. I'm about 70 pages into it, but I think that what you and I both feel about a passionate life is a by-product of being born after 1960 and before 1970. It's not just your opinion -- I think the majority of people who at the time that particular book was written were were called "Twenty Somethings" feel.

Dave, the guy I knew from Oregon who went kinda crazy, carried "Generation X" around like a Bible. He quoted from it and Nietzsche all the time. I was reluctant to ever read the book, simply because I thought it would be a whole lot of crazy bullshit (just because Dave was crazy). But I finally broke down and am reading it... and enjoying it. But it does make me feel sad and empty.

And I know I'm never ever taking another McJob again as long as I live anyway. My resume has grown up enough to mean I won't have to. I've got that requisite 5-10 years experience at something. I guess that's because I had kids early and got forced into a settled mode, as opposed to so many people I know who work jobs to save money and then travel all over the place. They are perpetually poor, but they've seen the entire world. My friend Sara has been to India twice, is currently studying advanced yoga education with some swami yoga dude in like Nepal or some crap... but she works on an apple harvest farm every fall and doesn't own a car. She house sits for people, and teaches yoga, and makes more money than I do.

I don't know if she pays taxes.

It's funny because we're well into our thirties now. When does this lifestyle stop?

Well. I don't have enough time to continue pondering the status of an aging Generation X... I'm off to do the professor MF thing. Perhaps a little more later. There is other stuff on my mind, but I just don't have enough time in the day to really slam it in here.

Friday, September 20, 2002

Halfway through the day today at Cateringman's (trumpet flourish, hands on hips, looking to the horizon with assured satisfaction that the day is saved) they realized they didn't need me to go be on the job tonight after all. They had plenty of waitstaff and three people in the kitchen.

Color me pissed.

I could be in the car on the way to New York right this second. Catering man asked me if I'd come back later this afternoon to the shop to work with him on prep for the two big jobs for tomorrow. Seeing as I could use the money, Planned on being Cateringgirl anyway... I told him to call me on his way back from the delivery of the big big function stuff and let me know what time to come in. Probably at 5:30pm.

So mom and Linda -- sorry. I could be hanging with your face, but it looks like Thanksgiving at the earliest.

Cateringman was short of fuse today. I got lectured for mistakes other people made, just because I was standing in the vicinity. One guy, who is a total misogynist, told me a prep job was done so I crossed it off the list. Cateringman lectured me for 10 minutes on not crossing off jobs until they are 100% done, and not crossing off OTHER people's jobs (I crossed it off because the He Man Woman Hater was grilling and his hands were occupied -- I thought I was doing him a favor).

And the entire time I was having my corn chute raked, Mr. Jerkbag didn't step to my defense at all saying "Well, I told her to circle it... so it's my bad." He walked around continuing to do his job, without saying a word.

Jerk.

He also does things that baffle me -- he's divorced, and hates his ex-wife. He just went through a nasty legal battle and tried to hide money from her, got a really sweet job as an area sales rep for a company in Pittsburgh, and set it up that he got perks instead of money so she couldn't have a percentage of it... ie company car and leased hotel suites for vacations, which he hid from her.

He stands around in front of all us girls, some as young as 18 and complains about women to Cateringman and his partner. Both Cateringman and his partner are divorced, so he thinks he has some sort of alliance with them.

The other day his new girlfriend listened to his advice on something so he came in and said "Well, hell froze over. I never thought I'd see the day but a woman took advice from me. Heh. She got off her high horse and listened to someone other than the voice coming out of her ass."

How nice is that, to say something like that about your current girlfriend. And the things he says about the ex-wife make my skin crawl.

He ended up getting laid off from the sweet deal in Pennsylvania and is currently suing the company for his severance package. He said he and his boss both are being screwed out of close to a million dollars each, so they both retained the same lawyer.

I do hope the ex wife gets wind of the severance package. I actually told Mr. He Man Woman Hater that he was a misogynist and he laughed. He said he liked women quite alright as long as they didn't talk back and give him shit.

So I suppose he hates me too. Cause I talk back at him all the time.

Anyhow, Amy praises me for my Passionate Life stance. Thank you. I truly am living it. I'm just wrinkling my nose and shrugging my shoulders for the past couple of days.

Oh -- forgot to mention yesterday's MF class. I stayed here at the house instead of going to the college. I was at a disadvantage because none of the video feeds would work for the other people, but all the audio was working fine for me. My microphone still doesn't work right, but I could hear everyone else talking.

It went almost smoothly. I would say 70% smoothly. The kids are starting to get the concept of using the Start Menu bar to switch between Blackboard and CuSeeMe, and three kids who are in the lab area will be home starting next week because they have DSL or Cable upgraded at their houses. So that will eliminate the need for so many bodies to be in the lab.

We're going to run the class again online next week. The only problem I am really having with the class is the lack of a private room for the kids to go into. The general public keeps coming in, and I have to "Zap" them out. One guy came in and then gave me all kinds of backtalk about leaving. Using the typed chat area, he wrote "This is a public room you know," and I answered, "Yes it is, because the technology doesn't give us a private room. I am the keeper of the room. We are teaching a class. You aren't registered. Please leave."

Then he typed in all caps that I was a bitch. I said yes. I am. The bitch with the crown deciding who is in this room and if he didn't leave I'd be emailing technical support and letting them know this guy was harassing us.

He finally left, but some of the kids following the typed chat area instead of MF's lecture were typing their own comments like "Yeah! kick his ass!" and other wonderfully encouraging comments. I felt like tough shit.

Well anyway -- that's pretty much it. Spongebob is on right now. I think I'm going to go watch it. Sounds like a good thing to do while waiting for the phone to ring, thus summoning me back to work.

Wednesday, September 18, 2002

Failing Baking 101

Yesterday was not a red letter day for me. In fact -- a lot of days lately haven't been. I usually try and shrug shit off my shoulders when it rains down hard, but lately it's all been just kind of holding on and building up. And thus it makes me stink.

Everything I touched yesterday turned to shit. First, I made scones for an English afternoon tea being held today. I over kneaded the batter, and they turned out not too puffy. Then, I made blueberry tea cake, the first pan turned out spiffy, the second collapsed in the middle, even though I tested it with a skewer before taking it out of the oven, so I had to rebake it.

It was a tasty mistake, but... one that I could see disappointed cateringman. Supplies and content are money. My time mixing a new batch of something I already made once is money.

Then, I get shown how to make these nasty stupid little hors d'ouevres called avacado crab cakes, and they are coming out all shitty. Cateringman comes over, and he always has this little tone in his voice. The very father like, "Let me show you how it's done..."

I almost threw a temper tantrum. I was trying my hardest, and here he was -- yet again, showing me how to do it. I suck. I suck at everything. And I was mad at me, not at him. He told me to calm down (and I did) and not to take it so personally.

This morning when I came in I apologized. The one thing I needed for him to know is it isn't ever HIM I'm mad at -- it is me. He laughed and told me it was all good.

We got a call later from the woman who ordered the scones for her party. She said they tasted like fish.

???

Fish!?!?!? WTF?!?!?

How the hell did that happen? I had very clean hands, I didn't handle an ounce or even a dollop of fish yesterday. So there is no way it is MY doing.

There may have been fish close to the batter or something after I mixed it and placed it in the walk in fridge to cool. But it was wrapped tightly and away from everything else.

Cateringman whipped up another batch of 50 real quick like, they were done in 20 minutes. He ran them over to her house personally. I felt horrible. But I know deep down that I had nothing to do with the fishiness.

He had some reserved for another gig this weekend and we all tasted them. There is a peculiar aftertaste, but... how the hell it happened none of us know.

I just can't win.

The only really good thing is that I garnished the hell out of the little tea sandwich trays, I made an ass kicking cranberry orange nut bread, which rocked so steady your socks would have fallen off if you got within 10 feet. I did a couple things right. But not enough to feel like I succeeded at catering school.

I got a call from professor CM regarding one of our projects. He showed it to the private high school which had hired him to do an annotated history links website -- he organized the links, annotated them and assigned a rating system, I built the webpage and made it graphically pretty.

The chair of the history department at this school LOVED it, and while she was meeting with CM she called up the chair of the English department to have him look at it -- we could end up doing one for them too if we are lucky.

CM was jumping up and down and screaming with joy and gushing with praise like he did in August when I co-taught the class with him. Again -- it felt good to have my ass slathered with worship. So the one thing I can do and do very well, design websites, I'm not doing. I hate my life.

Anyway -- we were going to go to NY this weekend to see my sister, but I had already agreed to work Friday night for cateringman at a big big big party. Lee Lee's coming up for a christening at home, and is staying a couple extra days.

But because of my prior committment, I don't get to see her. I get to wear a chef coat and work a carving station. I told cateringman to make sure the coat is extra huge.

It kind of pissed me off in a little way -- last week they begged everyone to work, and when I told him what my Friday schedule was going to be (work until 3, come home, meet the girl's bus, come back, go to gig...) he seemed surprised I was working.

"But you told me you needed me to. I cancelled weekend plans."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess I did tell you that..." Then he starts telling me what time to show up and stuff. Perhaps I could have gone to NY after all.

Hopefully we can see Linda for Christmas. Normally when she was living in New York we'd try and see each other more often. Now that she's in Florida it kind of super sucks. If her weekend wasn't so booked solid, perhaps she coulda come up here. Such is life, eh?

Not like I don't talk to her all the time. God bless the Interneck.

In plumbing news, the other day I'd mentioned that Doug was off to replace the washer in the sink once again. Well, it didn't work. No washer will stop the flow of water from the faucet. So, we decided to call a plumber before Doug started swearing like one.

He came this morning -- looked at the sink and said "They don't make PARTS for this thing anymore. You are going to have to replace the whole thing... and look at your drain pipe. Have you noticed your drain pipe?"

Yes. I had.

I had noticed that slowly it was getting... calcified and scaley. He said that's because it is rusting from the inside out. One good whack and the whole frigging thing will crack in half. He told me not to mop in the bathroom until he can replace it.

Good thing I don't mop. Guffaw.

So he had me look through some catalogues, he measured the area, told me what sink will fit. I talked to him about the possibility of doing a corner sink, kind of kitty cornered in there because it is such and implausably small bathroom. He showed me a few models in the catalog and said that he could probably do it without having to redrill from the basement...

I started to show Doug when he came home but he was too cranky to talk about it. He works a long hard day and by the time he gets back here he just wants a nap. So I'll go over things with him tomorrow. I want to tear down the wall covering in the bathroom before the sink gets installed -- so this could be the impetus for me to get that room partly remodeled in the next few weeks. Damn. Not what I expected I'd be doing. God's way of telling me it's this room's turn.

I'm not sure how much the sink and install will cost me. Cateringman and one of my co-workers told me to just go to home depot, buy a sink, install it myself.

It was all I could do to keep from laughing in their faces. HA! Me. Replacing a sink. I can't even make scones right.

Well, I have some MF stuff to do. Her class is attempting to meet online again tomorrow. I'm having lunch with my friend Rupa before class instead of lunch with the guys... I always see them and never see her, so she's been longing to lunch with me. I'll make that happen. It's nice to be wanted.

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