Tag Archives: career

Thankfully, I’ll be the one with the camera.

In the morning, I’m hitting the road, heading to an annual overnight “retreat” at a mountain resort with our Board of Directors. Loosely translated, “work all day and watch grown men and women act like total idiots at the bar all night.” This is the one guaranteed night each year MP has a sleepover at Grammy and Poppy’s — they have fun, I have fun, it’s all good. The resort is about an hour away though, and thinking about it makes me miss her already. I know, I know …

So, I’m charging the camera as I type. If I’m lucky I’ll come home with some blog-worthy photos. I’d post some from last year to give you an idea of what’s in store but I swore to delete anything incriminating. Which means … I got nothin’. This year, who knows. Back in the 90s, I saw Glenn Close in the restaurant. She looked remarkably like a regular person. Which totally didn’t stop me from telling everyone I knew I rubbed elbows (literally) with the Fatal Attraction chick. What I wouldn’t give to have gotten a picture of her eating a rabbit dinner …

Oh, and did you notice how I’ve already blown the NaBloPoMo thing? That was quick. Now I just have to break the news to the Teletubbies. Po will be devastated. I however, will not.

Okay, I’m exhausted. I’m taking a chance and leaving the packing ’til morning. Which is probably a really bad idea, but the lids, they are heavy ma Doogs.

See you in a few days!


Filed under Piecemeal

Troop 3447 gets crafty. Or an old lady loses her mind. Both involve diapers.

Suzette is an older woman that works in the office upstairs. She’s a bit … off. The two offices share a kitchen. At any given moment, chances are usually good Suzette can be found talking to herself, rumaging around in the fridge or cleaning out drawers. Who knows. She likes the kitchen. We also have a large meeting space that’s available for rent, so people come and go quite frequently.

Yesterday morning, ACW (Another Co-Worker) came into my office.

ACW: Dude, there’s a DIAPER on top of the fridge.

ME: What? Is it dirty?

ACW: No …

MP: Uhhh…

ACW: An ADULT diaper.


ACW: I know.

ME: Are you SURE it’s not dirty?

ACW: It’s not dirty.

ME: Is Suzette losin’ it?

ACW: She’s GOTTA be.

ME: ‘Cause she’s the only one I can think of …


ME: Wait, who was here yesterday? Didn’t QB come back at six? Was there a meeting?

ACW: Yeah, she had a Girl Scout thing. [QB is a Troop Leader]

ME: Maybe it was from the meeting?

ACW: Why would Girl Scouts involve adult diapers?


ME: Maybe it was a … craft?

Hey, wanna play church?


Or Hobag Rock Chicks?


I would so rock the Girl Scout diaper crafts. Maybe QB will let me loose on her girls.

I totally want a badge.

Image borrowed from these guys and these guys.


Filed under Disturbing Piece

Can’t we all just get along?

Things in my office have been a little tense lately. I work with five women and one man, Conservaboss. (I think it’s about time for more BO bumper stickers …) I’ve worked with TONS of women before and NEVER experienced the catty, nosy, jealous, backstabbing BS that goes on in my office nearly every day. Seriously. Women are absolutely ridiculous. I don’t know how lesbians do it.

In all honesty, it really comes down to just a few bad apples who get off on trading negativity almost as much as two hormonal teenagers swapping spit. And I’ve learned the best way to avoid being peppered with the BS is to stay buried in my office.

Until Monday.

Remember my Social Media Presentation last week? On Monday, one of the Apples (who takes great joy in finding fault with me, my ideas, my work, etc.) rolled into my office, sat down, and gave a backhanded compliment before tearing it apart.

And I lost my shit.

Just thinking about it exhausts me. Needless to say, when the smoke cleared and all was said and done, I felt like a weight had been lifted. I was completely honest. And it was completely harsh. But 100% deserved.

What it comes down to is this. I would love nothing more than to spend each day with MP. Being the sole bread-earner, that’s not a possibility right now. But if I can’t be with her, I damn well better like the people I DO spend time with. Because thinking that I spend more hours each day with a few downright nasty beyotches than I do with my daughter makes me angry.

So tomorrow, the entire staff will be going on our annual day-long “retreat.” Which really just means we go somewhere, recap the past year and talk about plans for the next. AWESOME timing. Should be a BLAST.

I’ve decided to take the high road however, and attempt to be a uniter.

I’ll be passing out Pop Rocks and Diet Pepsi. If THAT doesn’t get a laugh, I’ll be throwing in the proverbial towel and heading to an ashram somewhere in India.


Filed under Piece of My Mind


I’m back in Blogland! Last Friday’s presentation behind me, I feel like I can finally focus on something other than Powerpoint. I feel like I MAY have actually caught up on some desperately needed sleep.

It went fairly well — aside from the fact that I went 1/2 hour OVER my allotted time. Which is a GOOD sign, right? Oh yeah, and there was only one teensy technical problem.

I had this very cool quick Twitter tutorial all cued up. I clicked on it. And THIS is what started playing.

Yeah, that was a little uncomfortable. SO not what I meant to show.

Anyhoo, thanks for all your words of encouragement, ma Doogs. Have I told you lately that I love you?



Filed under Pieceful Night's Sleep

So blank I can’t even come up with a title for this post.

So, I’m at a blog impasse. I got nothin’. My blog brain is 100% blank.

Except for this.

MP and I spent an inordinate amount of time watching these guys a few months ago. I would’ve packed a lunch and brought a blanket had I known we’d hit the free entertainment mother lode. Seriously. These two gave the Costco Free Library a run for its money.

Okay, so maybe 98% blank.

More than likely, this week will be light on the posts — I have my big Social Media presentation Friday morning and seeing how I HATE public speaking, I’m finding it hard to focus on anything else. Because I have to speak for an HOUR. To people who are coming from all over the state.

Maybe I should show them the New Media Douchebag video. You know … to break the ice.

I’m so screwed.


Filed under No Piece

In some circles I’m considered an expert. Which is frightening.

Yesterday, my boss came into my office and started asking me about Social Media. Which he’s NEVER done. Convinced I’m totally busted, I’m waiting for “Mommypie” to trip off his tongue any second. He’s been known to snoop on employee’s computers and truth be told, I’m not always the stealthiest. Like the folder titled BLOG. Seriously, it’s just a matter of time.

I steadied myself while the Blog Hog in my head chanted Dooced! Dooced! Dooced! Dooced!

Thankfully, BH was wrong. Conservaboss actually wanted some insight for an upcoming conference, which, pretty much meant the kiss of death for me. Mention anything I’m passionate about and I literally cannot. Shut. Up.

I blabbed about blogging. I even suggested we add a President’s Blog to our web site. He could write it, and I’d set it up for him. I blabbed about Facebook and LinkedIn and Twitter. Dear God, I blabbed about Twitter. I even walked him through setting up an account. I showed him how he could follow his guy, McCain.

I momentarily lost my freakin’ mind.

The result of which was me agreeing to give an HOUR LONG PRESENTATION at aforementioned conference. In two weeks. Me. The one who loathes public speaking of any sort.

End result? Not only did I commit the cardinal sin of farking with the blog/work balance by introducing my BOSS to my sacred, secret realm … I must now educate a legion of internet-challenged businessmen and women about the awesomeness of my After 5 World. And yes, by After 5 World, I most certainly DID mean the tuxedo rental place, thanks.

This blows goats.

My only saving grace? I managed to actually keep my mouth shut about MY blog and MY Twitter account. Sometimes the Blog Hog comes through.


Filed under Uncategorized

Gettin’ busy in the afterlife.

As part of my job, once a month (for nine months) I spend the day in a “leadership program.” Yesterday, the theme of the September session was “History Day.” Which meant we spent the day learning the history of our town. Way cool.

We took a walking tour of downtown and learned the history of the buildings. When I pointed out a former turn-of-the-century brewery that served as my college apartment and told the tour guide (apart from the group) it was most definitely haunted, she was so clearly not impressed. I’ll save the ghost story for another post.

We went to two museums and learned about pioneer life from a HIGHLY enthusiastic lady in period attire. Holy crap. There’s a reason people are never smiling in old photographs. Life was HARD. Just LIVING was a job.

We visited a famous turn-of-the-century mansion that, until just a few years ago served as a fraternity house. It’s safe to say I could’ve sat this one out. I toured it plenty in the late ’80s.

And best of all …

We went on a cemetery tour given by a quirky little man in a bow tie and top hat. He had just identified the headstone of an infamous madam when I happened to looked down.

What?!? Can I help it if the blog gods dropped this at my feet?

Oh yeah. THIS was directly behind these two.

It’s Swingtown. For dead people.


Filed under Rest in Piece

THAT Morning.

In 2001, I was living in Denver in a miniature 400 square foot apartment. The two-story, whitewashed brick building housed six tiny apartments, but had seen many incarnations since the dawn of the 20th Century, when it was born as a corner candy store.

I felt safe in my little nest. I adored everything about it. Two years later, MP would, in fact, be conceived in that apartment.

But back in 2001, THAT morning I was waking to the sound of AM talk radio. Like any other morning. I lay in bed on my back, eyes closed, slowly gaining consciousness. Listening to the news.

And then hearing what sounded like someone reporting, “It appears as though a plane has HIT one of the Twin Towers …”

I remember bolting upright, the exact words, “What the FUCK?” escaping my lips. I remember leaping out of bed to turn on the TV, just in time to see the aftermath of the second impact. I had literally missed it by seconds. I remember sitting on the couch, the same one I sit on now as I write this, mouth agape. The collective expression of a nation. Of the world. I remember watching as long as I could, before having to shower and get to an “important” off-site work meeting scheduled at a local hotel.

As I dried my hair, I paused to listen to the latest developments, and heard something about the Pentagon being hit.

They’re confused, I thought. The Pentagon wasn’t hit. It was the second tower. I looked out the bathroom door into the living room and saw the TV. Oh my God, they weren’t confused. The Pentagon HAD been hit.

Oh. My. God.

And now I have to rush out the door to a meeting. The world’s gone mad and I have to go on, business as usual. Furiously, I raced to the hotel, finding everyone gathered in the bar, silently watching events unfold. Eventually we were herded into a conference room to commence the meeting.


There we sat, 25 of us circling a walnut board table, trying to at least APPEAR as through we were paying attention to the speaker that had flown in the day before. It was ABSURD. Every few hours we’d break and gather in the bar, getting the latest news.

“What’s happened?” we’d ask each time. We were told the first tower fell. And we went back to our meeting. The next break we were told the second tower fell. And we went back to our meeting. I remember frantically trying to get ahold of my brother, who, at the time was working in the tallest, most recognizable building in downtown Denver. There were rumors of it being a potential target. Once I got through, I begged him to leave.

Unable to get through to New York, we all worried about our colleagues in the corporate office.

And still, the meeting went on.

One year later found me in Manhattan, visiting those colleagues, who thankfully, were all okay. But the shadow still loomed, and as uncomfortable as I was telling the cab driver to take me to “Ground Zero” I felt compelled to bear witness.

In stark contrast to the hustle and bustle just a few blocks away, the area surrounding the crater that marked where the towers once stood was eerily quiet. No cars honked. No one spoke. Pedestrians paused along the chain link fence lining the street in silent deference, many leaving flowers.

And people openly prayed.

I was one of them.


Filed under Piece of History

It’s raining men. And I want to crawl under my desk.

I don’t know WHAT the hell’s goin’ on but the past few weeks there’s been a run on fix-ups in Pie Town. Apparently, someone designated it Mommypie Needs A Date month.

Which has led me to declare it Mommypie Is A Stress Case month.

Because Mommypie doesn’t really WANT a date. At least not at this juncture. And you better believe that KILLS my mother.

The first guy is a local attorney, 10 years my senior. I’ve met him a few times before at work functions. Nice enough. He ran for a judge seat last year, and lost. His chosen political party is … not mine. And being older and pickier (meaning that “they like me” is no longer a good enough reason to date someone), all the above could easily be enough to rule him out.

But ACW (Another Co-Worker) mentioned she saw a large tattoo on his lower leg at our recent golf tourney, so, I agreed to meet him for lunch Tuesday. Or Wednesday. I can’t remember, but I wrote it down. And I’m DREADING it. Because, while I don’t want to rule anything out, I don’t want to waste anyone’s time either. I’m going to try to go into it with an open mind. It’s just lunch right? RIGHT??

The other guy is a baseball scout, also about 10 years older than me. Definitely scoring higher on the cool job scale, if that counts for anything. He doesn’t live in this state, but travels here frequently. I have NO idea what he looks like. He’s sent two emails. I sent one, somewhat terse, “nice to meet you” email. He wants to get together later this month when he’s in town. I haven’t answered.

Argh. I AM totally grateful for such wonderful friends who care so much about my happiness. I find it funny that in this case, the two doing the setting up were two GUYS. And I know I’m a little unconventional. But I love the life MP and I have. Just the two of us.

And now, I want to hide. I want to crawl under my desk and hide. Which I’ve actually done on more than one occasion. Just out of college, I was working two jobs to make ends meet — a 9 to 5 job all day while waiting tables all night. I was exhausted. For awhile there, I’d actually crawl under my desk, lie down and sleep when my bosses were at lunch. I kept a pillow in my office and everything. Okay, a seat cushion, but still. Remember the Seinfeld episode where George slept under his desk at work? That was totally me.

Which sounds so much better than a lunch date small talk torture session. Hep me Rhonda.


Filed under No Piece

Playing ketchup. With mustard and onions.

I have so much to catch up on blogwise, workwise, lifewise. And trying to squeeze actual SLEEP in somewhere … CHAH. I apologize to all my blog buddies for being MIA lately — I’ll be back making the rounds soon. I’m just a bit sleep-deprived and crazy at the moment. Outstanding items include:

1. Auds’ Dinner Party Post. I swear, Auds, it’s coming. I may even do TWO to make up for my tardiness. Narrowing down the guest list is hard but I’m ALMOST there. Swear on MP’s Scooby Snacks. Which is what I’m bringing, btw.

2. Sharing the love. Lately I’ve been bestowed some pretty great awards by some pretty great bloggers. I need to tell you all about it and pass ’em on. Not to mention update my pathetic sidebar. Oh, and MEMES. Still have a few hangin’ out there.

3. Chronicle. Things like last week’s swim lessons. And last weekend’s boating excursion. And Bobo flagging down ANYONE to come get us out of the middle of the LAKE as we took on water. And the start of MP’s gymnastics in a few days. And my Olympic aspirations. And MP’s outta control eczema explosion.

4. MORE Hawaii. Speaking of explosions, I STILL have to tell you about the volcano. Because, seriously, how often am I going to walk on old lava flows and inhale VOG. (Volcano + Fog = VOG. Shockingly, this is a word I did NOT make up.) In the dark with flashlights, no less.

5. Men coming out of the woodwork. Suddenly, all my friends have decided to have their single guy friends CALL me. And EMAIL me. Complete strangers. I have reacted as only I know how — sticking my fingers in my ears and singing “LA LA LA LA I CAN’T HEEEEAR YOU” at the top of my VOG tainted lungs.

6. Guest Posts. I’ll be over at McMommy‘s sometime this week. And at Co-Worker QB’s place. McMommy’s post is ready to go, but QB, gotta tell ya, I have NO idea what will fly out of my butt. Consider yourself forewarned.

6. Work. I scored a very cool freelance job! And all because of the blog! It’s only about eight hours of work, but totally up my alley. Oh yeah — it’s due in the morning.

Which is my cue to get back on it …



Filed under Bits and Pieces