6.29.2006

My lopsided soapbox

I need to carve a ladder into my soapbox. It's getting worn down on one side from all the crawling I'm doing to get on and off of it.

With that said...

I need to smooth out the heel prints left from the stilettos I wore last time, then hop up onto my soapbox in my nifty flip-floppy sandals. Just for the record, in case you've missed the last installments of my soapbox moments, I LOATHE STUPID PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!

Today's honoree works in Chicago, and I have her idocy in writing...

I am doing research, and to give you a sample of the questions, these are a few of the questions from the questionnaire:

To which organization do the following answers apply?
How is your organization structured?
What strategy does your organization follow for Marketing and Public Relations?
Do you have a detailed position statement or brand strategy? If so, please provide details.
Does your organization actively pursue Marketing and Public Relations opportunities? How?
How long has your organization actively pursued Marketing and Public Relations?
Historically, has your organization had any obstacles to Marketing and Public Relations? Have there been any other obstacles to overcome as an organization?
What is the approximate attendance to your organization’s events annually?
Is attendance seasonal? Does it follow any predictable patterns? If so, please describe patterns.
What type of person generally attends your organization’s events? (Describe person)
What percentage of sales is budgeted for Marketing and Public Relations?
What new market ideas lie ahead? Does your organization actively seek new markets or demographics?
What challenges or hurdles are foreseen for the next five years of your organization?
Historically, what medium or campaign has worked best for your organization?
Which media or campaigns have been least effective?
Is your organization dependent upon fundraising for over 50% of your income, or are other monies available (i.e., grants, subsidies, or endowments)?
To what degree does fundraising affect Marketing and Public Relations in your organization?

Honoree sent the following response to those questions. (Understand that these questions have been answered by organizations whose annual attendence is in the 2-5 million range...)

I’ve looked over your questions, but I think I need a little more detail in all of the questions so that I know what kind of info you’re looking for. The *** is a really large organization, and there’s no easy answer to most of your questions without some more direction from you. Would you mind sending me something that’s a little more specific?

Also, when do you need the responses back?

June 31, dummy.

6.28.2006

Go team.

Whew. I've spent the last three days in my home burg teaching teachers how to teach (well, our brand of teaching anyway). Fun huh? Right. The conference was fun, but since it was at home, there really isn't much going on. Maybe cow tipping at night. Heh. Had a bonfire with all the folks at the farm, and we sang John Denver and Woody Guthrie songs. Whippee. I didn't know that city folks knew those songs!!! Anyway, tomorrow is back to Queen Bee and real life. QB's been gone for a few days, and I'm saddened that I missed the peace her hiatus brought to the office...

But alas, the peace has been removed, and I am to return to work (...the latter is not causally related to the former, Dave.). At least it's past halfway to the weekend. I need a drink.

6.23.2006

*grumble*

Grr to the Zoo people or Chicago or Huey Lewis or whoever broke the equipment last night. Why did they have to break the sound equipment, and not the sound guy? He was HORRIBLE!

A lot of people in my esteemed organization are grumbling about having an interminable wait followed by a lousy concert. I'm sorry, but true fans understand that there are good days and bad days for everyone. Even Chicago. ...admittedly this one sucking was probably helped along by some really good drugs backstage during the interminable wait, but maybe they needed it to get through. They are getting older, you know. I must say that if I have the chops to play like Jimmy when I'm his age, I'll be a happy person, even if he was high as a kite last night.

Also, what kind of person can spend time with their best friends at a concert and complain that they had a chance to sit around with nothing better to do than shoot the bull with their best cronies?!? Life is hard folks, and that's probably the best it's going to get. Take advantage of it! Cripes. Gripey complainers. Argh.

6.20.2006

Why me?

Why do some people have an innate capacity for idleness, while I am burdened by an innate ability to overload myself?

This summer began as a quite time for socializing and meditation. Now, it is a harried season booked beginning to end. Evenings, weekends, days, the whole bit. Research, school, church, bells, tutoring, random errands, clean, and then all over again. How did I get myself into this?

*Pulling hair out*

6.17.2006

Father's Day blues

Welcome all to Father's Day weekend. Let the annual blues begin. While most father/daughter combos are out doing whatever normal fathers and daughters do, I sit here at my happy computer and try to decide if my dad has indeed been deserving of the yearly Father's Day email. It's not much, just "Happy Father's Day" in the subject line, and maybe a repeat of that in the body, if a body exists at all, but in my family, that one little email is a thing to be deserved. It isn't a right, it's a privledge. Biology doesn't equal greatness in my corner of existance.

Hmm. I think back over the past year. There has been a series of emails where I was announced the recipient of assorted used kitchenware items, and there was the email that encouraged a joint Independence Day/Labor Day/Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Year's/Valentine's Day/Birthday/St. Patrick's Day get-together dinner, but since it didn't happen until a mite before Mother' s Day, and I picked up the tab, I don't really feel that an email in response is earned as yet.

Then there always is the fact that, alas, none of the signatures on the emails (save one) say "Dad". One does say, "Love, Dad." It's the yearly get together one. All the rest are just signed with his first name. I never called him that when he was around; why should I start now? He used to be "Bill-In-A-Box" since all my college friends figured he lived in a cardboard hut beneath I-40, but I have since found out that he lives in a real house (there's nothing in it, but it's a roof) in a small town about an hour away, so now it's back to "Dad." ...at least on my part.

*Sigh* Holidays are too complicated.

6.15.2006

Say cheese!

In the following joke, if you even THINK about putting my name to this tale, I'll...I'll...*insert harmless threat here* ...

A young blonde was on vacation and driving through the Everglades. She wanted to take home a pair of genuine alligator shoes in the worst way, but was very reluctant to pay the high prices the local vendors were asking. After becoming very frustrated with the "no haggle on prices" attitude of one of the shopkeepers, the blonde shouted, "Well then,maybe I'll just go out and catch my own alligator, so I can get a pair of shoes for free!" The shopkeeper said with a sly, knowing smile, "Little lady, just go and give it a try!" The blonde headed out toward the swamps, determined to catch an alligator.

Later in the day, as the shopkeeper is driving home, he pulls over to the side of the levee where he spots that same young woman standing waist deep in the murky bayou water, shotgun in hand. Just then, he spots a huge 9-foot gator swimming rapidly toward her. With lightning speed, she takes aim, kills the creature and hauls it onto the slimy bank of the swamp. Lying nearby were 7 more of the dead creatures, all lying on their backs. The shopkeeper stood on the bank, watching in silent amazement. The blonde struggled and flipped the gator onto its back. Rolling her eyes heaven-ward and screaming in great frustration, she shouts out DAMN...THIS ONE'S BAREFOOT TOO!"

A break from the norm

Normally, my mind seems to be stimulated by ugliness and the lower strata of society. The dregs usually appeal to me in a can't-not-watch-a-car-wreck kind of way. I am here this lovely a.m., however, to consider beauty. (Yes, Dave, I know.)

You know that moment when you first see a work of art, or a person, or whatever, and you feel like you've been sucker-punched from the sheer beauty of the whatever-you're-looking-at. Turn that into music, and I give you the concert I attended last night.

Yes, I'm a dork, but even I am rarely such moved by a handbell concert. Yes, they're fun, they're sometimes stodgy, and generally quite interesting, but this choir blew me away.

Cast of Bronze, the Dallas Community Handbell Choir (yes, they're volunteer), rang at McFarlin Methodist last night. They play 7 octaves of handbells (let's just say the smallest is a dog bell since it calls every dog, and the largest I could swim in...) and 7 octaves of handchimes (only 2 sets exist worldwide). The lowest chime was, oh, about the same height as I, and I was suitable impressed. Especially the first time that low C reverberated throughout the sanctuary. WHOA.

They played a Bill Payn piece, Commemeration of the Spirit, that was written as a memorial to a ringer who passed away. It told the story of her life, and started out with a barely discernable toll in the bass, built up to bells pealing, and faded back to a slow toll. By the end of the piece, I had goosebumps from head to toe, trying not to bawl my eyes out. Sucker-punched.

6.14.2006

Eeep!

You know that cartoon when the rabbit gets alarmed and his ears go straight up and his eyes bug out while the "aaoogah" horn sounds in the background? Insert yours truly for the bunny (my ears/eyes stay put, however), and you have my reaction to the fact that today is WEDNESDAY! Holy cow. The muse of my soapbox has been talking to me all week, but I've been too busy to notice.

I think my next post should be something about the time/space continuum and how I met myself on Friday leaving my house Thursday.

If I get a spare chance today, I'll dust off ye old soapbox and hop myself onto it (with much grace I assure you.)...keep your fingers crossed and your eyes peeled.

(and those avid readers may have noticed the MAYDAY! MAYDAY! post is now a draft, sitting on my computer unpublished...I had an attack of conscience and decided to remove it. If you're terribly interested in my ultimate demise (potentially), email me or comment and I'll see that you get to see the wonders of the g'ment life...)

6.11.2006

MAYDAY! MAYDAY!

So it is possible that my slugishness is at risk. This whole saga started about 4 months ago...let's go back.

So there's a deadline approaching for our community-based grant. (For the uninformed, my section works under two grants: one is community-based, for organizations such as YMCA, and the other is school-based, for public school programs.) It is a competitive grant, which cycles every three years. (So, intuitively, one should realize in mid-2003 that this baby would come due in mid-2006.) Well, it is February 2006, and the deadline is quickly approaching. There are several sections to the grant application, and writing grants is no mean feat. There are some in our office who are uber-organized and don't go so much for procrastination, there are others who live in complete disarray and somehow always manage to finish things sort-of on time. Then we visit the third category of g-slug that works in our office. This type of person is the one who is mostly organized and likes things to run to plan. All well and good. This type makes goals and deadlines, most of which are met. It's the big ones that seem to be problematic. Like grant submission deadlines. The school-based grant was a few hours late, but it wasn't a big problem since it isn't really competitive. However, in late February, this third type of personality has a large section of the grant to write. The other two groups of people finish their writing and submission with a few hours to spare. The third is still plugging away, so the first two ask if the third needs assistance. Group 3 assures 1 and 2 that everything is good and there are no problems. RIGHT. Well, to make a long story not quite so long, the grant is not submitted on time. Argh.

Fast forward to yesterday.

We receive the list of grantees for the new grant cycle. Guess who isn't on the list? Bingo. Groups 1, 2, and 3. Although there is no word yet exactly why our esteemed section did not receive said grant, would anyone like to volunteer logical reasons? ---I probably here should let you know that even if logic ever did play into any g'ment decisions (which it doesn't), it probably isn't the only reason for the current situation...but it IS the most obvious.

So half of our funding is gone, and we can't reapply for three years. Since salaries are paid from this grant, my slugishness could possibly be endangered. Unlikely, but possible. We have 15 months to phase out the community side of our subgrantees. That may include a staff person. Hopefully not me. I would like to be the one to decide when and why I cease existance as a government slug.

Grr.

6.10.2006

So while I'm on the topic...

Excuse me while I hike up my skirt and plant my four inch stilettos firmly in the middle of my soapbox.

I HATE STUPID PEOPLE. This statement is now currently expanded to include pervasive stupidity (not to be confused with ignorance), complete irrationality, and utter bullheadedness without justification. I'm sure there are more adjectives that belong under my umbrella statement of hatred, but these are the ones I will be discussing on this particular hot-as-the-seventh-level-of-hell day.

Let me begin with a diagram for you. In the world of G-Slugs, hierarchy is everything. No loyalties exist between any slugs that aren't part of the same hierarchy. Logic and decision-making (they seem to be mutually exclusive) only exist subservient to the hierarchy. So let me call my level of the hierarchy "scullery maid." The level that comes above me is somewhere around "knight" or "princess" depending on which SM hat I'm wearing at the time. (If I'm wearing the SM of Sir Knight Hat, there does exist a Lady-In-Waiting.) Above Sir/Princess comes Queen Bee. There are levels above queen bee, but although I know they exist, that is a fact to be taken on faith alone.

So SM and Sir Knight have been working with LIW on a training session to be held at the end of June. QB decides that she would like to see said session not happen, so refuses to sign the paperwork. SK asks QB what the problem is, to which QB responds with some completely irrational answer. QB insists that SK, LIW, and SM start from scratch with a different plan of attack.

The next day, SK and LIW are in attendance with QB, who realizes that they have, indeed, come up with a solution to get around her irrationality. So she gets angry to an unholy degree that we have "made this work." Gee. And here I thought that the function of my position within the department was to make things work.

Until I became a SM to QB, I never quite realized that there were supervisors who became livid upon the realization that their underlings had brains, creativity, and a mote of logic. And here I thought that I existed to make her life easier. I'm so dumb.

6.08.2006

Um, yeah.

So apparently today it was announced that a company in Maine has started producing "Serial Killer Calendars"...just like centerfolds. (US Firm Makes Killer Calendar)

Geez. It's not OK in this country for, say, bizarre sexual relations to occur, but it IS ok for us to make a profit off of the likes of Jeffrey Dahmer (May's pinup). There are many things in this country that I am at odds with, but this is pop culture taken too far. I think EVERYONE should wake up every morning to a smiling serial killer watching them sleep. Wow.

6.07.2006

...a strange day.

So get this. *Enter soundtrack o' doom* Today...*dah, dah, daaaaaaaaaaah* I WORKED.

Not hard, mind you. Just passing busy for a majority of the day. And of course, it was completely unrelated to my job description, but if that didn't qualify, nothing ever would.

I had to babysit 150 future teachers. Well, maybe 149 future teachers and 1 not-future teacher, but you get the idea.

In other news, best friends rock. You know who you are, and you know I love you. ;-) (Just don't ask me to repeat it...saying things like that too often makes a girl get the heebie-jeebies.)

Off to read the snail mail and practice piano.

Bonne nuit...

6.06.2006

Bored

One of the biggest blehs about being a government slug is the complete lack of control you have over your own time. For example, my boss is out of the office yesterday and today as is the person who gives me work when my boss doesn't. This leaves me with approximately nothing to do. I say approximately because I did have to send a fax yesterday. I work infinately faster than anyone else in my office, so I'm rarely behind, and when everyone's gone, this becomes a problem. I'm sure I shouldn't complain about having to do not-a-lot at work, but it's frustrating when I've done every conceivable thing in the office, and it takes an hour.

Don't get me wrong; I love where I work, and the people here are *mostly* great. There are a couple who enjoy making my life miserable, but the fact that they micromanage has little to do with me individually, or even my section individually. I'm just so *bleep*ing frustrated about sitting on my tail reading websites all day or trying to act busy...here's a heartfelt GRRR to all you who work. I'm envious, but I need this job so I can study. But it's summer. No school=nothing to do all day. It's a vicious cycle.

I love to read, but I can't because if people see me, they tell their people that I don't work and I get in trouble for not working, then I tell those people that I'd love to work, just give me something to do, and I get in trouble for being a smartass. Argh.

I feel like my brain is turning to mush. I do puzzles, quests, and the like to try to stay intellectually stimulated while at work. Somewhere out there has to be the utopian job--always busy and not with busy work.

6.04.2006

Crossroads

So you know that point in life where you think you finally have it all figured out and things are going your way? ...then someone or something comes along behind you and pulls the rug out from under your feet and you can't seem to catch yourself before you splat facedown on the concrete? Welcome to Sunday.

I love playing the piano at the church where I am, but I also do more than just accompany; I write the music for and direct the orchestra, I write a lot of the music for and direct the handbell choir, I play piano for the choir and direct/participate in the praise band. I play two special music pieces per week, both requiring rehearsal time, I choose/accompany two cantati per year, choose all the music for worship services, and the list goes on. I have the same paycheck as the lady who moved so I could obtain this wonderous position. She played the piano as long as she had a few months of notice to practice, and that was all she did. I get almost $70 per week to do all these wondrous things for our church.

Last week, I got offered a position in another church, further away from home, that would pay me about 2.5 times the current amount. I don't particularly want to leave my church since I did start so many programs there and they need me since the choir director can't write instrumental music easily, but today I went to talk to the pastor to discuss my options. I consider him a close friend--he's known me most of my life--and basically he said, "well, do what you have to do." I thought that at least he'd take my proposal to the SPR committee to look over and decline, but it didn't even make it out of his office. He did tell me that priorities in the church were (1) an assistant pastor, (2) building a multimillion dollar expansion on the building, and (3) hiring a Sunday school adminstrator. He said that in five years or so, maybe an assistant music director was going to be a priority, but now, my orchestra, bell choir, etc. would just have to wait.

I understand if a church has little money and has to scrape by to exist. This church isn't like that. The most wealthy people in town attend this particular church (though their tithes are miserly), and none are musicians. There is one other lady in the church of 500 that plays the piano, which I find sad. She's a student of mine.

So with this in mind, the pastor also told me that he hadn't had a raise in over three years, but was going to be asking the SPR committee to give the staff people a 5-8% raise in the fall. Wahoo. Let's see, carry the 2, move the decimal, that comes to between $16-26 per month more. Whoopee. Maybe if I were grossing say $10G, I could get more excited about 5-8%. That isn't even enough of a raise to make my net (after mileage) a positive number. Argh.

I'm not a big fan of crossroads. I like my life to be stable, to know what my schedule is going to be, and have complete organization. These kinds of decisions suck. At least he could present it to SPR. Geez. An extra 5 minutes at a meeting they're already holding on Tuesday. Is that really too much to ask?

6.03.2006

*Sigh.*

Grr to whoever wrote the really cool template that I totally loved. Grr to whoever provided the website that it was on. Oh well, now we all just get to look at basic black.

So my stomach finally loves me. I had Thai last night with Billy, and this afternoon with Ma. I spent the whole afternoon after Thai until a little bit ago finishing installing a storm door. Just give me a drill and I'm a whole different woman. Not better, just different. I hate building things and I only become "handy" when there's no one around. It's always better to have someone else do something for you. Especially when that something requires power tools. Oh well, the door looks good and closes on its own, so that's all that really matters.

So the bosses and their companions are all out of the office starting on Monday. Hmm... What to do with myself...I think I'll spend the rest of the weekend looking forward to twiddling my thumbs. They sure left me a lot to do. I have to send a fax and do assorted filing. I may possibly be able to work on a document that is to be done quite soon, but more likely, it won't be ready for typing...oh goody. Bash.org, be prepared!

6.01.2006

Hooray for Mary Kay.

I've been spending the last few days typing my fingers to the bone (hence no desire to do further typing on my blog). We have a document that is to be printed in two weeks that we are nowhere close to finished on (about 300 pages long) and guess who is the typist-of-honor for the project? Yup. Yours truly.

In other news, Mary Kay is a great company. Every time the products rock and can't get better, they rock my world and improve upon the best. It's great working for the #1 company in a worldwide industry... :-) (Since this shameless plug should now segue into different matters, see www.marykay.com for more info (you can add /"my name" if you know that too for more personalized information)!!

I have to sell 78 Satin Hands to get stage recognition at Seminar. Wait. I'm not going to Seminar. Oh well, I'll do it anyway just to prove that I'm still the best. (Yes, Dave, I AM the best. I've outsold my whole unit combined for 3 weeks running.) Off to get crackin' on people's cracked and miserable hands. It's nice to know that I can do good for someone else...for a price. ;-)