Should we start the count-down?

I said I was going to keep posting to this blog until I had 500 posts and this is number 491.

I read back through the old stuff occasionally and I don't see that I've improved any. Actually I'm worse. I've lost the creativity and feeling that some of the early posts showed.

I blame it on my job. It sucks the life out of me. And by life I mean creativity and feeling.

My team leader wants to loan me some movie because she thinks there is a funny line in it about a woman who quits her job because the people there are stupid.

I don't see the humor in that line. I've quit lots of jobs because I couldn't stand the stupidity anymore.

And I know one more that might fall under that category any day now.

Memorial Day 2008

This is a picture of a few of the 500 flags that are displayed at the Oaklawn Memorial Gardens in Hamilton County, Indiana to honor America's fallen military personnel, police, and fire fighters.

It is truly an awe inspiring site to see so many large flags flying in one place.

For more information go to Hamilton County Today.

And don't forget to check out the Fishers Freedom Festival the weekend before the 4th of July!

"and I quote"

I heard yesterday that some study at Harvard had found that fat wasn't what made us fat afterall and 40% of our daily calories should be from fat, not 30% as previously thought.

I don't pay any attention to those studies. I've lived long enough to know that if you wait a few years another study will change the 'facts'.

Sometimes it's not even a study that tries to set the standards as to what's good for us and what's not. Sometimes it's just somebody somewhere making a statement and somebody else quotes it and before you know it "everybody" is quoting it as fact.

Take the axiom "drink 8 glasses of water a day", and any liquid that isn't water doesn't count. That has little basis in fact. Nobody knows where it came from. Studies are out that now dispute that everybody needs 8 daily glasses of water and they agree that tea, coffee, and fruit juice are mostly water and therefore count towards your water intake. Common sense should have told you that.

At one time, the "facts" said that margarine was better for you than butter, now "facts" say that margarine isn't good for you at all. Who cares? Butter taste better.

Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop

Episode 1 too many

I watched a few minutes of one of the original Star Trek shows last night and I reached a conclusion that is shared by many.

That show was bad. I mean really, really bad.

When I started watching, Kirk, Spock, and Bones were on some planet (not on the ship) dressed in what appeared to be animal skins duct taped together. They were with a group of similarly dressed men who carried flintlock rifles, clearly not advanced technology wise. (Though they did have duct tape, or at least something similar. ) They had on wigs that looked as if they'd been sent out to die, but hadn't made it.

Kirk had been hit on the head with a large rock, probably 6 - 8 inches in diameter. He'd been knocked out, but there was no blood or wounds.

Really now - not one drop of blood?

The next scene was a woman taunting another group of men with Kirk's phaser (fazer?) She was dressed in skin tight, hip hugging, bell-bottoms and a brief top that appeared to be made out of a bright orange fake feather boa. During one downward camera angle, the boa was artfully designed to frame her ample bosoms (which were as fake as the boa, by the way.) The men had on cheap, curly, women's wigs that barely covered their own hair.

Madam Boa got in a fight with the men (she has a really unusual scream) and one of them stabbed her. It was clear the knife stabbed the air some place beyond her right shoulder, but it killed her none-the-less. During the scuffle, the Enterprise group heard the screams and came arunnin'. Even though Bones was standing slightly to the right and behind Kirk, he got shot in the left arm. (That means the bullet had to detour around Kirk to get to the left side of Bones.) He wasn't hurt, of course, though he did have a bullet hole in his arm. Even had a couple drops of pale, blood next to the hole.

Give it a rest, girl.

I want to complain about the people I work with. I know I just complained about them, but the past two weeks have been especially annoying. Everybody in our office is over 21 (at least 10 years older than 21) and have been working there for over 2 years. So why is it that nobody else can do anything, but me?

Yes, I'm still having a pity party.

You get over it. I'm tired of this crap and I want to complain about it. I can't do anything about it but complain.

I've told the supervisor that she should give the "new" employee more responsibility so he'd feel more like a member of the team. Honestly, I was thinking that maybe he would do more, maybe he'd have more ambition to do something besides just enough to get by, maybe if he felt like he was making a contribution he'd actually work more than an hour or two a day. [Yes, I tell my supervisor what to do sometimes - I used to be her supervisor.]

He has the fastest alt-tab response I've ever seen, but one can't help but notice that he's often surfing the web or checking his Yahoo email even though he was reprimanded for that soon after he started working there.

I doubt if he's been at work for 8 hours in one day more than two or three times in the past 2 years. He leaves at least 30 - 90 minutes early every day, he takes several long breaks during the day, and frequently his 1/2 hour lunch appear to take 1 - 2 hours, but maybe he just takes a break before and after lunch. You'd have to know where I work to know why it's weird that he takes long breaks. There's literally no place to go in the building but to the bathroom or the pop machine. And there's no place outside close enough to walk to.

Every time the supervisor goes to a conference or on vacation, he calls in sick or says he has to work from home because one of the kids is sick. He has a very sickly family and a bad back that's always giving him problems. Maybe it's true, but we don't believe it any more.

Our office keeps tracks of the number of times each employee enters the office using their badges. It's not unusual for him to badge in more than 10-12 times in a single day.

So what's got me wound up about it today? Aside from the fact that I have to do everything and after 2 years he's still considered too new to know how to do anything? And he half-asses everything he does?

First, I don't keep track of when he comes and goes, but I have to walk by his desk when I come in and go home and when I go to the printer or to the conference room or to the supervisor’s office. If I come in after 8 and he's not at his desk, I know it won't be time for him to go home before 5. If I go to the printer several times between 8 and 10 and he's not in yet, I know he shouldn't go home before 6:30 at the earliest. I can do math in my head.

So .... The supervisor and I left at the same time this afternoon and we stood in the parking lot talking. Within a few minutes of us leaving the office, he left work and went home - at least 60 minutes early, probably 2 hours early.

I abhor liars, cheats, sneaks, and thieves. Especially lazy-assed ones that get away with doing as little as possible, while I'm being buried in "our" work.

Thanks for letting me vent. I feel better. Of course, it may be the impending weekend more than you, but I'm sure you helped.

One woman's opinion

Do you know what I especially don't like about frozen green beans?

They don't taste as good as canned green beans.

They have an artificial texture.

They squeak when you eat them.


All of the above.

I don't especially like that infamous Green Bean Casserole either.

I like canned greens beans simmered with some bacon bits and chopped onions. Maybe a little vinegar if I want a little snap in my beans.

So there.

Seven

My new upstairs neighbor has an annoying exercise routine. I have yet to see this person so I don't know if it's a man or woman. Doesn't matter - it's annoying either way. To make this more readable, I'm going to call him/her Sam.

Sam walks in the upstairs apartment. To be more specific, Sam walks in the living room which is just over my living room. Sometimes it's at 7 in the morning, sometimes it's after 10 at night. This morning it was at 8:30.

None of my business, you say? HA! Sam walks just over my head and trods with a heavy foot. In the evening, I can't hear the television. In the morning, I can't concentrate on my work.

And to make it worse, Sam walks 7 steps forward and 7 steps back, 7 steps forward and 7 steps back, 7 steps forward and 7 steps back. Get the picture? For 10 - 30 minutes, it's 7 steps forward and 7 steps back.

I want to scream, "For sanity's sake, dance a little! Hop! Skip! Be daring - try 10 little steps forward and 6 big steps back!"

Fine Feathered Friend

This is a poor-me, I'm over-worked and under-appreciated weekend. It's mostly because I suffer from "The Little Red Hen Syndrome".

Just in case you had a deprived childhood and/or have never heard of the Little Red Hen, you can read a version of her story by clicking here or read a synopsis of my version below.

The Little Red Hen tried to get her lazy-assed friends to help her prepare the garden, plant the seeds, reap the harvest, and bake the bread, but they wouldn't. So she said, "Then I'll do it myself".

However, when it came time to eat the bread, they were right there. "We'll help you eat it", they all chorused, as if they were doing her a favor.

And the Little Red Hen said, "No, you won't, you lazy-assed, good-for-nothings. I'll do it myself". And she ate all the bread, and wouldn't let them have any.

The problem with The Little Red Hen Syndrome, is that if you have it, you never learn to say "Oh, no you don't."

For example, in my personal version, I would say, "Alright, you can have some and I'll eat the crust to make sure everybody gets some. And don't worry about the dishes, I'll do them."

I am such a chicken.

An observation

Have you ever noticed how very, very annoying so many people are?

Sometimes it seems like they have weekly committee meetings to plan ways to irritate me.