Sunday, September 30, 2018

He Said I Was Delusional. I Nearly Fell Off My Unicorn.




Why does this witty verse make me smile and chuckle at the same time? Does this relate to some aspect of my life? Or do I just see the humor of riding a unicorn in this crazy, out-of-control world we live in?

Think about these three sayings that have been bandied about over the years:
  • ·        Get off your high horse
  • ·        You’ve changed horses in mid-stream
  • ·        Get back on your horse

Isn’t a unicorn a type of horse? I looked up the definition of unicorns in my Merriam-Webster app. It states a unicorn is “A mythical, usually white animal generally depicted with the body and head of a horse with long flowing mane and tail and a single, often spiraled horn in the middle of the forehead.”

Okay, maybe the mythical/spiraled horn takes a unicorn into a whole different realm.  To me it represents a world where there exists a wonderful, loving, safe place to live in and enjoy. Unfortunately, that doesn’t exist in the world in which we currently live.

Where’s a unicorn when you need one? Or maybe we should move in with Puff the Magic Dragon who lives by the sea.

Until the next time…

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Witticisms I’ve Collected Along the Way - Chapter 1



I do not take credit for these wonderful witticisms. I’ve collected them over the years from others who have written them.

  Political Observations:
·        Remember back when Sarah Palin was the craziest person in politics? GOOD TIMES.
·        Can we just admit we may have taken this “ANYONE CAN GROW UP TO BE PRESIDENT” thing just a bit too far?
·        Trying To Pick My Favorite Politician is like trying to decide which STD would be best for me.
·        BE CAREFUL When you blindly follow the masses – sometimes the “M” is silent.
·        Elect a clown – expect a Circus
·        Not my Circus, Not my Monkeys
Diva Statements:
·        OOPS…Did I roll my eyes out loud?
·        Clearly states DIVA on my birth certificate.
·        ADMIT IT – Life would be so boring without me.
·        If I were WRONG don’t you THINK I’d know?
·        You couldn’t handle me even if I came with INSTRUCTIONS.
·        You know that little thing inside your head that keeps you from saying things you shouldn’t? Yeah, I don’t have one of those.
·        I can’t decide what pants to put on today: smarty or fancy
·        MY FAVORITE COLORS ARE: Black, Dark Black, Pitch Black, Pastel Black, Light Black, and Faded Black.
Aging Gracefully:
·        Being cremated is my last hope for a smoking, hot body!
·        I’m a - Wooden Spoon, Lead Paint, No Car Seat, No Seat Belt, No Bike Helmet – Survivor!
·        If I’m ever on life support, unplug me. Then plug me back in. See if that works.
·        The best thing about the good old days was that I wasn’t good and I wasn’t old.
·        So when is this old enough to know better supposed to kick in?
·        My glass is empty! QUICK! Call Wine-One-One!
·        Physically I’m here, mentally I’m in a Galaxy FAR FAR Away.
·        I don’t trip – I do random gravity checks.
·        I just did a week’s worth of cardio after walking into a spider web.
·        I can’t believe HOW OLD people my age are.
·        IF I WOKE UP in the morning and nothing hurt - I WOULD THINK I WAS DEAD.
·        Don’t grow up – it’s a trap.
·        Life is too short to waste time matching socks.
·        I could be a morning person if morning happened at noon.
·        I saw people through the window today. That’s enough social interaction.
·        Never judge a book by its movie.
·        Wait! I do not snore! I dream I’m a motorcycle!
·        Retired: Goodbye tension. Hello pension. 
Cats & Dogs:
·        St. Catrick – Patron Saint of Crazy Cat Ladies
·        I was normal three dogs back.
·        Life is short. Spoil your dog.
·        WHATEVER – My dog thinks I’m awesome.
·        I work hard so my dog can have a better life
·        Dogs make me happy. Humans? Not so much.
·        RESCUED – is my favorite BREED
·        The journey of life is sweeter when traveled with a dog.
·        LOVE is how excited your dog gets when you come home.
·        Sometimes I meet people and feel bad for their dog. 
Statements of Truth:
·        Around here, normal is just a setting on the dryer.
·        In order to insult me, I must first value your opinion…nice try though.
·        I’m beginning to think that for some of you, the wheels on your bus do not go round & round.

·        He said I was delusional, I nearly fell off my unicorn.
·        It’s not that I’m immature. It’s just that you started it!
·        In my defense – I was left unsupervised.
·        I would like to thank my middle finger for always sticking up for me when I need it.
·        I Think I Still Have Some Unfinished Procrastinating To Do From Yesterday.
·        I’m the oldest - I make the rules.
·        I’m the middle – I’m the reason we have rules.
·        I’m the youngest – the rules don’t apply to me.
·        Project Manager – BECAUSE MIRACLE WORKER ISN’T AN OFFICIAL JOB TITLE
·        SAWDUST IS MAN GLITTER

Monday, April 23, 2018

My Love Affair with My iPhone




When did an iPhone become an important piece of my life? To the point that I can’t even think of living without one? For me, it began in November of 2010.

I started with an iPhone 4. I named her “Baby” because she was my first and she came with a pink case. Unfortunately, she had an untimely demise three weeks into her life. I wanted to listen to music while I was painting our half- bath. I had put her in my shirt pocket and was happily singing along when I leaned over to add more paint to the roller. Baby fell in to the one-gallon paint container! OMG! What had I done to her?

Thanks to the kindness of the AT&T store in Northampton, MA, they gave me a replacement. I ended up calling her “Baby” as well. I’ve never told anyone about what happened to my very first iPhone…until now (too embarrassed).

Then came Jeeves. He was an iPhone 5, and he came with lots of accessories. Come to think about it so did Barbie. Jeeves came with his own Bluetooth Jam Classic wireless rechargeable speaker. It looked like a small blue drum. He had a platform that he could recline on while being charged via a wall outlet. Jeeves also came with a pink stylus, my choice…not his. He would have preferred black.

Also, Jeeves had a replica of the popular Danish "Egg" chair. He enjoyed getting comfy in it when I was listening to music on the wireless speaker. That little blue drum made a great side table for him! Plus, the chair gave him a safe environment to hang out in. I misplaced him often since his case was black and blended into the background. With the bright red chair, he was hard to miss.

Jeeves’ hated the cold so on his Christmas list, he had asked for a fur liner for his Otter case. Not happenin’! His Otter case was a necessity in case of sudden impact. I dropped him often. And, let’s be realistic. Barbie may have a fur coat in her collection, but then she’s in a whole different league.

Jeeves, in his spare time, liked trolling the Internet in the middle of the night. At one point, he found the tour of Barbie’s Malibu beach house on YouTube. He started thinking of moving to a warmer climate. Plus, he kept talking about location, location, location. He certainly had been looking at too many houses on realtor.com!

I had Jeeves only a year when the iPhone 6 came out and I traded him in for the bigger screen. All his accessories went into storage. I always wondered what became of him.

Recently I did an Internet search on Jeeves. I found that he is living on a small Greek Island in a house that from the pictures (love Google Earth) looks very similar to Barbie’s Malibu beach house!

Until the next time...

Thursday, April 19, 2018

My Own #MeToo Story




This incident I’m about to share happened during 1995 to 1997 while I worked at IBM. It was so traumatic that I had erased it from my memory. At least I thought I had, until recently.

I was clearing out the basement as part of the process of selling our home. I found a stack of cards and notes that I barely looked at as I was tossing them out. One piece of paper caught my eye and I pulled it out. It was the letter I wrote to IBM Human Resources back in 1997 about the treatment I experienced from my supervisor. I read it, the despair and frustration that I had felt over 20 years ago surfaced up.

I worked as the Customer Service Supervisor for IBM’s infoMarket project from 1995 to 1997. The first year I was a consultant and then I was hired full-time in April of 1996 by Ed.

Two months earlier, I stopped Ed as he was exiting a senior staff meeting. I was concerned about some information I had on a pending release of our service that had a major bug. This would have greatly impacted my staff by producing a significant increase in the number of calls they were normally handling.

When I began relating this to Ed, he started shouting at me, saying he was “tired of my whining and complaining.” I was shocked at his behavior and asked if he wanted to talk in his office. This resulted in even more yelling, and then he just walked away. I was extremely upset and displeased because two of my staff had witnessed his behavior and c0-workers heard him as he was quite loud.

When I was interviewing in April for the full-time Customer Service Supervisor position, I brought up the incident to Ed. His reaction was that I played a much greater part in it than he had, therefore he had nothing to apologize for. I just couldn’t understand his attitude, but I didn’t pursue it because I wanted to be an IBM employee.

I attended weekly staff meetings where we reported the status of our individual groups. Often after my presentations, I would get a lot of negative feedback directed as criticism which I felt was inappropriate. Ed did not criticize any of his other staff, who were males.

In November 1996, I approached Ed and explained how I felt, hoping this would put a stop to my humiliation. To promote even further understanding, I confided to him that I had recently been placed on an anti-depressant. I also mentioned my childhood background of abuse. I brought up the February incident again and reiterated how hurtful it was. This time he was very apologetic, and at the end of our conversation he gave me a paternal type of hug.

After that discussion, I noticed some improvement in his behavior to me, especially during the staff meetings. I was no longer a target for his criticisms. However, another issue began to develop, and it became more prevalent in 1997.

Ed began telling stories of his past sexual conquests during the staff meetings. Again, I was the only female present. Whether alone or with others, it made me extremely uncomfortable. I always tried to find an excuse to leave. Once Ed mentioned to me that he and his wife were not getting along sexually and that he had cheated on her many times over the years. I wondered why he was telling me such personal details. I had always conducted myself in a professional manner with him. I never led him to believe that I was interested in him.

In July of 1997, Ed informed me that there was going to be some shifting of personnel. The Office of Registration and Billing Operations customer service would merge with my staff to consolidate the overhead expenses of running two customer service desks at the same site. He told me we would meet with “Harold” to go over the transition of the merging of his staff with mine.

About ten days later, Ed showed me a joke, it was about what people in different departments must do to advance up the corporate ladder. He called my attention to where it described the only way a customer service manager could advance was to sleep with her supervisor. I laughed and said something like, “No way, never!” I was hoping he was just joking, but even so I still felt it was inappropriate. I began to wonder what was going on.

The following week Ed made an announcement in his weekly staff meeting that the Office of Registration and Billing Operations would be getting my staff instead of the other way around. This meant that I would no longer be a supervisor.

Ed and I talked after that meeting and he suggested I find a job in Marketing or Support Services. I was upset by all of this and at the time I couldn’t understand what was happening and why I was being pushed out of Operations.

I was able to find a position in Support Services. I went by Ed’s office to say good-bye. He said that since he and I were no longer working together we could have an “LTR.” I asked what he meant, and he replied that it was a “Long Term Relationship.”

Ed then went on to explain how it would work - such as meeting up on Tuesday and Saturday afternoons. I said, “No thanks,” and I walked away. Finally, it was clear to me what his intentions were toward me. I was relieved to no longer be in Operations and working directly for him.

In mid-November there were rumors of impending lay-offs. I was informed by my manager, “Sarah,” that I was going back to Operations to be part of the Transition Team that was being formed to sell off infoMarket. I thought about this and realized that Ed would be my boss again. 

When I asked Sarah if I could simply take the severance package that was being offered to other staff members instead of being a member of the Transition Team, she said I didn’t have a choice.

On Monday, November 24th, I decided to tell Sarah and another manager “Jane”, about the ongoing situation with Ed. Both advised me to put the events in writing and contact Human Resources. The next day Ed came to my desk and he stood so close to me that I couldn’t move away from him. He said, “What are you up to?”

I wondered about the timing of his visit, just one day after I mentioned my concerns regarding him. I paged Sarah and asked if there was any chance that he might have been told of my discussions with them. She wasn’t sure and said she would get back to me.

The day after Thanksgiving, November 28th, I went to get a manicure. I was exiting the nail salon when I noticed a male walking towards me as I neared my car. He had on a baseball jacket and cap with the brim pulled down as far as it could go, so at first, I didn’t realize that it was Ed. He said something like he was homeless, and could I spare him some money or find him work. Then he changed his tone and asked me how my Thanksgiving was. I don’t remember what I said to him, but I quickly got into my car. He got into his SUV and started following me. At the intersection, I slowed down until the light turned yellow and gunned it. Ed stopped for the red light.

I drove home crying and I kept looking to see if he was following me. From home, I called Sarah and a co-worker, to tell them of the incident and how upset and frightened I was.

After that incident I was afraid to be alone during the holiday weekend. I called a friend who stayed with me until my roommate came back on Sunday.

I became more cautious after Ed’s strange behavior. He knew I stopped at Starbucks every morning. I started scanning the parking lot before getting out of my car. Also, I would wait until someone was leaving the store, so I wasn’t alone as I exited. I started to ride the freight elevator to avoid running into him. I began parking in different locations each day in the parking garage. And, I had co-workers escort me to my car at the end of the day.

In December, I went to IBM's Human Resources Department in Bethesda, Maryland and sat down with “Maureen” who was assigned to investigate my complaint. I explained in detail what was happening. I know she spoke to several people including Ed. In mid-December, I met with Maureen again. I was told that Ed had been talked to and he understood that he needed to stay at a distance or there would be repercussions.

Sometime in early January of 1998, I was given the severance package that was given to other employees who were being laid off. This is the same package I asked about in mid-November, where Sarah had said I didn’t qualify for but now I did. By accepting that package, I ended my career with IBM.

On January 12, I was pulling out of a parking space near Starbucks when I noticed that Ed was parked a few cars from mine even though there were plenty of other spaces further away. This incident was so upsetting that I have no memory on what happened next.

On January 21, I was driving near my home. I looked up and Ed was right behind me, he then changed lanes and was driving along side of my car. I slowed down but then realized I’d be stuck at the light, so I sped up and so did he. When I turned off onto my street, thankfully he didn’t follow me.

I contacted Maureen and told her what had occurred. Her comment was that Ed lived nearby and he had to use the same road as I did to get to his home. And, that he had every right to be on that road even when I was using it. I was floored by her response.

After that call, I realized that IBM had done nothing to protect me from Ed, nor would he suffer any repercussions for his behavior.

Unfortunately, because of that phone call, I felt that I was at fault for a situation that Ed had created. Because of the #MeToo movement, I now see that what I experienced was not my fault.

It was sexual harassment from a man who had the power to convince management to ignore his behavior regarding one of their female employees and to not be punished for his unscrupulous conduct.

Thanks to the #MeToo movement – the environment where men could treat women in the workplace as toys - is changing. Women now have a “voice” that is being heard by the public and management. May changes in the workplace environment for woman continue.

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Our 15th Valentine’s Day Together!



I originally wrote this letter to Mary for our 11th Valentine's Day back in 2014. A lot of changes have happened since then, one of them is our upcoming move to New Hampshire! 

To the only woman who I will ever love…

        *************************************************************

My Darling Mary,

Our first contact was in March of 2001, when I started working for your brother as his Office Manager for his consulting firm in Leesburg, Virginia. He named the various family members who would be calling him at the office. When he came to you, he described you as “my gay sister, Mary”. I found it very interesting that he didn’t put any type of labels on your two sisters. It didn’t faze me that you were gay, and it didn’t stop me from enjoying our phone conversations for the next two years. We discussed your partner of many years, my husband, and the unexpected obstacles that happened while on our life’s journey.

We didn’t meet until March 2003, when you flew down from Massachusetts to celebrate your brother’s 60th birthday. I have this habit of greeting the people that I treasure with my arms straight out, and a huge grin on my face. That was your very first official encounter with me, do you remember that moment?

We had so much fun that week! I felt I had found my “best friend,” and it was such a wonderful feeling. I enjoyed your humor and your infectious laugh. I also liked it that you enjoyed my company. You even invited me to come visit you in the Pioneer Valley area, and all the wonderful things that make it so special.

So you went back to Massachusetts, and your partner of nine years broke up with you because she had found the “love of her life.” You had no place to call home so you moved to Leesburg in the fall of 2003 to work for your brother. In October, you changed my entire life with a single kiss. I’ve never regretted that kiss or any of the upheaval that was caused by the ending of my marriage.

In 2004, we moved to Northampton with our dog, Chloe, and began our lives together as a family. We purchased a home with good “bones” though it needed a lot of work to get to our standards. I wanted a dishwasher, you wanted central air conditioning, and, Chloe wanted a puppy. We all got what we wanted, plus much more.

So here we are - still together and it is now 2018! At the end of this year, we will legally be married for 14 years! Wow!!!

Love you with all my heart,
Sharon


Monday, February 5, 2018

Who’s Carson?


We had the privilege of taking care of Carson for five weeks. You might be asking yourself “Who’s Carson?” Did they get another dog? No, Carson is a Siamese fighting fish, also known as a Betta. They are very territorial and are prone to aggression towards other Bettas, so they need to be kept in separate tanks if you have more than one.

Carson was extremely friendly and outgoing for a fish. We’d go up to his tank and say, “Hi Carson” and he would swim over, and his little flippers would vigorously flap up and down, this was his way of saying “Hi.” So adorable!

We would move his tank around, so he had different views to look at. During the day and evenings, we would have him on the table near our living room window. Also, he could watch us as we sat on the couch watching TV. We’d say, “Hi Carson” or wave and he’d swim over to our side of his tank and his little flippers would go up and down like crazy.

At night time, we would move him over to our china cabinet and put a doggie blanket around his tank to keep him warm because the furnace would go on and off during the night.

Feeding him was an event at least for me it was. He’d get two tiny little pellets twice a day. They were hard to get out of the container. Many times, I’d have lots of them lying on the table in my attempt to get two. When dropping the pellets in, it was important to get his attention, or they would sink to the bottom of the tank. When I opened the little door on his tank lid he’d usually swam over to it. If he didn’t come over, then I would gently tap the water where I wanted him to be.

Carson needed his tank cleaned about every two weeks. His owner provided us a turkey baster to siphon out the water. The baster was also used to suck up Carson’s poop at the bottom of his tank. We only needed to remove about half of his water and replace it with fresh. Carson also had his own mason jar for water which sat for a while before being added back to the tank. This all had to be at room temperature and there were special Betta liquid drops that went into the water as well. 

Doing all of this eliminated the need to remove Carson from his tank. This resulted in a healthy and happy fish! This may explain why my previous Bettas didn’t last long in my care. I didn’t clean their tank often enough, plus I removed them from their tank with a net which always seemed to traumatize them when I cleaned out the tank.

I got the call on a Thursday from Carson’s owner saying he was back from Winter Break and would like to make the arrangements to pick Carson up. I knew the call was coming but I was devastated that our guest would be leaving us. How can one fall in love with a fish? Well, I did.

Carson left us on a Saturday morning. Later in the day I went into the living room and was alarmed that his tank wasn’t on the table. I took a moment to breathe and my brain then kicked in and said, “Hey dummy -- he’s gone back to his real owner which you aren’t.” So true, but sad nevertheless.

I have contacted Carson’s owner several times to see how he’s doing. I have mentioned at least twice that we would be more than willing to take care of Carson over Spring Break. Hopefully, his owner will decide to go somewhere and not stay on campus. Only time will tell!


THOUGHT FOR THE DAY

A Betta or a Puggle?

Carson the Fish:
When I put my face right up to his tank and called out his name he would swim over and his flippers would flap up and down a lot. If he was resting and I called his name, he would start swimming around.

Fast Eddie the Puggle:

When I call for Eddie or pet him, he just ignores me unless I have dog treats to give to him, and only then does he respond to me. Basically, he ignores me 23 out of 24 hours a day. 

Sunday, February 4, 2018

My Mother's Obsession with My Hair

I originally wrote and posted this in August 2008 on my old blog. In my lifetime, I have gone through more hair stylists then I have men or women for that matter! I have  never found the person who could handle the fact that my hair is very thick on one side, that I have cowlicks, and I my bangs hang at a funny angle.

Just the other day, I found my person who understands what my hair is doing and what needs to be done to make it look normal! So this story is for Kari. My new best friend. She can be found at "to dye for." in Easthampton, MA.


                                    *************************************

My mother had many obsessions and one of them was about my hair. It never looked like the Shirley Temple image she had in her mind. It all started out innocently enough when I was 2-years old. We were living on a military base on the island of Okinawa where my father was stationed. It was very windy and, at the time, I had baby-fine curly strawberry blonde hair. It was always getting tangled, so one day my mother couldn’t take my wiggling and crying any longer from the comb getting stuck in the knots in my hair, so she shaved my head. 

Oh yes, she did! There I was - bald. Hair grows back, so what’s the big deal you ask? Well, it grew back very thick, very straight and no longer blonde! God forbid! And that was the beginning of her obsession with my hair.

Starting at around the age of four (remember my hair had to grow back first), I got the first of many perms that I would have over my lifetime. One of my first memories was sitting in a chair in the Beauty Salon on a stack of telephone books, trying not to fall out of the chair. I truly believe this is where my fear of heights came from. It was several feet to the floor and I could have gotten really hurt. If I had fallen it wouldn’t have concerned my mother - as long as my hair came out curly. Also, I distinctly remember the strong smell of the perm and how my eyes always watered during the process.

I was blessed with extremely thick hair and the perms I received didn’t react well and my hair became all frizzy looking. Our hairdresser at the time just didn’t know how to handle cutting it. My mother started taking me to the Barber Shop on the base. One of the first pictures taken of me when we came back to the States was of a little white girl with an Afro! That and my speaking a mix-mash of English and Japanese was not well received back in 1958! Oh, the traumas I went through as a young child!

Now both my parents lived through the Great Depression and were scarred for life because of that. When we came back to the States, they both continued to work and save money so we wouldn’t end up in Debtors’ Prison. My mother was a Civil-Service Nurse (she worked at the clinic on base) and my father was a Chief-Master Sergeant stationed at the Air Base in Lincoln, Nebraska.

One of their money-saving ideas was for my mother to start perming my hair at home. Impending disaster! She left the solution on way too long which resulted in huge clumps of my hair falling out. On top of this, I was growing like a weed and they weren't replacing any of my dresses. During the early 60’s, no decent little girl wore pants to school! There I was looking like Little Orphan Annie, (this must be where my obsession with red hair began) with dresses hitting above my knees, which was not fashionable back then, and with very frizzy hair with clumps of it missing. Oh, what a sight I was!

Fast forward to the late 60’s, when the Beatles (the band, not the bug) and flower children were having their moment in history with their very straight, long hair. Yep, for a brief while, Mother left the perm obsession and went to the straight-hair obsession. Which was fine with me. I learned to blow dry my hair using one of those domed hair dryers designed for home use. It looked like a huge blue helmet! I flipped back the arm that connected the dome to the electrical unit and made my own blow dryer. It wasn’t very small, nor very portable, but it worked!

Now I always tried to be the good little girl and live the way my mother wanted me to, which is how I developed my neuroses and obsessions that I have had to battle with over the years. Ah, think of all the future blog postings you'll get to read!

One of the many rebellions I went through with my mother was when I was a  teenager and it was about my hair. Go figure. In the fall of 1971, I decided I wanted to wear my hair in a Gypsy Shag which was all the rage back then. My mother would not even consider that as an option for me. One day I snuck off to downtown Lincoln. Thank goodness for the bus system! I went to Swanson’s, which at the time was a very swanky clothing store in town with a salon and had my hair done. I remember coming home and yelling for my mother from the first-floor landing that I had a surprise for her. She flipped! Oh my gosh, she had a bird. She was so upset! She never forgave me for going against her wishes. Years later she would always shudder at the mere mention of the Gypsy Shag hair episode.

As the years flew by I found other ways to upset my mother, dating older men, staying out until the wee hours and divorcing at the young age of 25 (marriage #1) and so forth. But it seemed one of our favorite past times over the years was always arguments over my hair. To remove myself from my mother’s interference, I moved from Denver and eventually ended up in Virginia. She hated to travel, so I was safe living in Virginia.

But like the good girl that I tried to be, I went back to Denver every six months and stayed for a week of fun and hell. Now let me tell you, for me to get from Northern Virginia to Denver took hours by plane plus travel time to and from the airports. There I’d be, landing exhausted at Mother’s doorstep around 11:00 p.m. (which would be 1:00 a.m. back East). And the very first words that came out of her mouth after having not seen me for six months was, “Oh Sharon Elaine, your hair looks just horrible!” 

Thanks, Mom. I needed to hear that after traveling so many hours to see you. But unfortunately, I just could never please that woman no matter how much I tried and especially when it came to my hair.

Until the next time…