Friday, May 12, 2017

I do not have a fix for you!

I've been waiting to do another good rant, and here I go!

As some of you know, I'm in charge of a several-thousand person event this month. I love my job. I love being paid to agitate at work, and since I work in mental health advocacy, it is a very scary time right now. People are worried that they won't have coverage or won't be able to afford it...don't get me started.

Anyhow. I do some policy work as well, but the event I am in charge of is the largest mental health event in the region of the country where I live. Our organization is leading the fight to protect coverage and this is a civil rights issue. However, I do not want to be leading the charge to be the IT-person-in-chief for all of the people who try to sign up for this event.

And apparently there are quite a few people who just realized that 1. the event is in 10 days, and 2. have no computer skills, and 3. don't know how to read, and 4. expect me to fix #2 and #3.

Bloody hell, people!!! One woman has emailed me literally 20 times, and called two of our organization's offices, trying to fix things on her team page, including her own name, which she misspelled when she signed up. Lady...I do not have a fix for you.

I have gotten texts about event shirts on weekend nights. I have had my name incorrectly listed in a news article as person who signs people up for this event (I don't - see the part about how we have thousands of people?)

Here is a typical email: "Do you have five minutes before 11:30 a.m. to help me figure out X, Y, and Z?" (Sent today at 10:55 a.m.)

But my favorite email came from someone who asked me for help planning a mental health event to be held on the same day as our event.
"It would be great if people from your organization could be there," she wrote.

Yes, really.

Every previous person who had this position and ONLY did events and fundraising had an assistant. For better or for worse, I have OCD tendencies (yes, that is the official diagnosis), which makes me extremely organized.

My boss: "You are organized enough that you don't need an assistant."

Me:

Friday, April 21, 2017

You will not, will not, run my show!

Ever deal with a micromanaging control freak who doesn't actually do any work? Wait, that's redundant.

This is a Seussy ode to one such person who shall remain nameless, except to be known as the Bitch of Vancouver. This person tried to control the seating at an event of mine that she wasn't even attending - the day before it - among other things. Enjoy.

Dear Bitchface -

There is no time for sentiment,
You aren't controlling my event!

I'm so tired of your bleating,
trying to control the seating.
You can't rearrange a chair
if you fucking won't be there!

You never do respond
until crisis and beyond.
You blame things on your staff,
but it's really simple math.
Your inbox is jam packed,
and you really should be smacked!

You're really quite a pain - 
you point fingers and complain,
claiming others shirk, 
while you don't do any work.

It won't be quite so funny
when your group runs out of money.
But then you'll probably blame us,
throw up your hands, and fuss.

The character that suits you best?
The green-faced Wicked Witch of the West.
Is it triggered by dementia
that you complain in absentia?

So go ahead and whine,
and if you find this post unkind,
I think you're a miserable hag,
and I won't be left holding the bag!

Sunday, April 02, 2017

Spring had better fucking spring

Sorry for the long absence. I've been trying to get my life back after something traumatic. I'm involved with another writer, who reminded me that I need to be blogging, so...

Universe, help me out here. We are living in the apocalypse, and this has been the winter from hell! We have had no sun breaks here in the land of the dark, and vitamin D and intense workouts can only go so far.

Throw us a bone, will you? I stitched this years ago...it sums up my current attitude.
In the meantime, I have yet another event coming up and once again, I need a shirt that says, "I'm not your mommy!"

To wit:

If you attend my free luncheon, don't complain about the food. It's from a hotel, after all. And, you didn't pay for it, or donate!

If you sign up for advocacy action, and I let you know the goddamn minute we hear from the Legislature about a hearing, don't complain that you "didn't have enough notice." Particularly if you don't have a job to go to.

If you want to sell ice cream at my event, get my fucking name right in your email.

Likewise, if you want to play music at my event, get back to me, or I will book another band.

This all brings to mind the comment a fellow event manager got a few years ago, letting her know that it "was hot at the walk, and there should be more trees for shade."

I told her to tell that person, Start planting!!

 I will visit you all very soon.



Tuesday, January 24, 2017

The winter of my discontent

Sorry for the absence. I've been drowing in snow and interesting dates. I will visit your blogs very soon!

I must ask, is it so much to want to meet at guy who doesn't want to pee on me, or want me to call him Daddy?

So anyhow...our area got socked with more than a foot of snow in one day about 10 days ago. To give you an idea of how unprepared we were, we typically average four inches of snow in a winter.
Things I have learned regarding snow in Oregon:

1. If you share a driveway with neighbors who have four-wheel drive, they have no fucks to give, and no impetus not to create PILES of snow that trap your car.

2. It's good to have a shovel. I own one now.

3. Shoveling snow is a hell of a workout! And it impresses people. One friend from the Midwest said I was a badass...another asked if I stretched first...and another sent me a text warning me of potential muscle, back and heart damage. I told him that I merely shoveled the driveway, I didn't fuck it.

 Things I have learned about dating as a 40-year-old:

1. "I want to be exclusive" right away = "I am needy as fuck and I want to smother you."

2. "I've gotten kinkier as I've gotten older" = "Please pee on me."

3. "Do you want to get married again?" = "I can't be alone. Ever!"

And, most recently, 4. "I just met this girl I'm going to be focusing on" = "She slept with me on the first date and you wouldn't."

For those of you who are single... you're welcome ;)

Saturday, December 31, 2016

Goodbye to all that

Dear Dave,

#Fuck2016 is trending on Twitter, and I agree.

I can't believe you are in the ground.

I can't believe you are the second ex from high school who appears to have died of suicide.

I can't believe we never talked about these feelings of hopelessness. How did we hide them from each other?

Because I was there too. I wanted things to just stop hurting. I wanted to not feel like I wanted to die anymore. I just wanted the pain to go away.

Things are far from perfect, but it was worth sticking around. I'm so, so sorry you found it too painful to do so.

I wanted to lose my virginity to you. We tried, I got too nervous, it didn't work. You were patient.
You never knew about the subsequent assault, in between times we went out. 

I didn't realize how significant a role you played in my healing. You were the first guy I went out with who never pressured me, who let me do things on my terms. I went back and forth on you, I saw other people and then went back to you when I felt like it, and you were always OK with it. And when I decided I wanted to just be friends, you were OK with that too.

I wish I had known the kind of pain you were in. I wish I could have comforted you. I wish I would have thought to reach out to you and say hello, instead of having you simply occupy a fond space in my memory.

Your obituary read, simply, "At peace, in Monterey." I hope so. This song is all I can think of.



Monday, December 12, 2016

Dear potential dates~

Dear potential dates,

I don't remember dating being such a pain in the ass, or perhaps I just have selective memory.
From our holiday bag project at work...we got 2,000 condoms donated...I love my job!

Here is a list of conditions/dealbreakers I never thought I'd have to make. FYI:

1. DO NOT request anything involving pee. Ever. Period. I do not have any interest in anything in this area EXCEPT PEEING ON MY OWN, WITH MY DOOR CLOSED, WHEN I NEED TO. Why the hell does this keep happening?!
2. It's not a moment of brilliance when you feel compelled to say, "I like the woman to have her orgasm first" ... out of nowhere, when we haven't even kissed. (Yes, more than one person has done this.) And...Really? How fucking generous of you! Only one? I have vibrators that can do better than that.

3. Before you request anal sex, I require you to have experience it first, on the receiving end. Pun intended. Then tell me how you feel.

4. If I say I don't want to go out again, don't ask me. Especially don't ask me five more times.

5. If you feel the urge to send flowers to my office after I say I don't want to see you again, refer to condition #4.

6. Don't ask me about how your dick stacks up to anyone else's.

7.  Really. Don't. Ask.

8. I told you not to ask.

9. If you have a stash of Viagra, tell me about it. I date older guys, I get it. There's no shame. Don't spring it on me by surprise and leave me wondering if I'm going to be there for five minutes, and be like, "What?" or an hour, and have to limp home.

10. Speaking of which, if you need Viagra, FUCKING GET SOME.

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Surfacing

Thanks to all of my blog and offline friends who have been so supportive during my divorce and the other shit this year. For the handful of people who have simply stopped communicating with me since I announced this, I have no interest in your husbands, you idiots!

I'm incredibly thankful for all of the rest of you. I wanted to give a shout out to my cyber buddy Matthew Williams, whose online insights on dating and divorce and living with depression have really resonated and gotten me through more than one bad day! Plus he's just a cool guy and good writer. I encourage you to check him out.

 I'm going to try to make the rounds and catch up on your blogs a bit over this post-apocalyptic holiday. I still feel, as one of my colleagues put it, that I woke up next to Rod Serling's corpse.

Instead of focusing on that, I choose Snoopy. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
PS The dating adventures continue...but that's another post. No one else has asked me to give them a blow job while they pee, thank God!