Today started out just like any other day. I was enroute to my yoga class this morning when it happened. They say that most accidents happen within 5 miles from home - and I believe that statistic to be true.
I was at a stop light third car back on a busy, well-known intersection. The light turned green. I proceeded. All of a sudden the vehicle in front of me stopped because the car in front on HIM stopped suddenly to make an illegal left turn over a double-yellow to enter a convenience store.
BAM. I did not have time to react.
I rear-ended the car in front of me who rear-ended the car in front of him. Three car pileup. I'm stunned as I have NEVER even had a speeding ticket. The car in front, who was the one who decided to suddenly stop to make the illegal left turn, took a look at his bumper, and decided the damage was not worth reporting on HIS end and took off. Great. Now it's me and the guy in the middle of the three-car pile up. I obviously rear-ended him so I know I'm low on the totem pole. Rear-ending somebody means you GET it in the rear end.
Gods were gracious and the guy I hit was soooooooo nice. My insurance company, Allstate, has been great. I had a tow truck and a rental all ready for me as my car, MY CAR THAT I LOVE, now needs a nose job in the worst way and was leaking fluids. It's not drivable. I tried.
I think I blogged bitching about insurance. Yes, that is true. Yes, I have a high deductible but I'm still money ahead as my car has about $10,000 worth of damage.
Bottom line: Cars are replaceable, people are not.
Friday, April 29, 2016
Europe Trip
I just received my preliminary itinerary for Europe this summer. It's been kind of morphing for some time now and it may continue to morph, but I'm excited about the set up.
Flights? First class
Accommodations? Luxury
The cherry on top is fireworks in Paris on Bastille Day. However, I've been assigned to be on the River Seine on a dinner cruise with window seating (to see the fireworks, of course) for the evening as mixing with the crowds on the streets may be a little dangerous given the political climate. There will be LOTS of eyes open that day - surveillance will be tight - but nothing these days is fool proof as there are plenty of fools out there who would love to ruin Bastille Day and gloat in the irony of it.
Finally. Years of hard work is paying off. No more flying crammed in coach and staying in crappy hotels. I can fly crammed in coach and stay in crappy hotels perfectly fine on my own personal dime;)
Flights? First class
Accommodations? Luxury
The cherry on top is fireworks in Paris on Bastille Day. However, I've been assigned to be on the River Seine on a dinner cruise with window seating (to see the fireworks, of course) for the evening as mixing with the crowds on the streets may be a little dangerous given the political climate. There will be LOTS of eyes open that day - surveillance will be tight - but nothing these days is fool proof as there are plenty of fools out there who would love to ruin Bastille Day and gloat in the irony of it.
Finally. Years of hard work is paying off. No more flying crammed in coach and staying in crappy hotels. I can fly crammed in coach and stay in crappy hotels perfectly fine on my own personal dime;)
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Respect
I don't know what's wrong with younger people these days, but I think I have a theory -- their PARENTS.
There seems to be a generation of entitled, spoiled brats who think the world revolves around THEM. Don't believe me? Just talk to any teacher. The kids are disrespectful, disrupt the classroom, and think their feces have no odor. If they get a poor score on a test their parents are on the phone calling for the teacher's head, same if they are sent to the principal's office for bad behavior.
Thanks, parents....now we are dealing with these entitled brats now entering the workforce. They act as if they are doing US a favor by periodically showing up on time and actually working a full week.
Now I know why companies are going overseas to find employees and/or paying illegals cash under the table.
There seems to be a generation of entitled, spoiled brats who think the world revolves around THEM. Don't believe me? Just talk to any teacher. The kids are disrespectful, disrupt the classroom, and think their feces have no odor. If they get a poor score on a test their parents are on the phone calling for the teacher's head, same if they are sent to the principal's office for bad behavior.
Thanks, parents....now we are dealing with these entitled brats now entering the workforce. They act as if they are doing US a favor by periodically showing up on time and actually working a full week.
Now I know why companies are going overseas to find employees and/or paying illegals cash under the table.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Dance Class and Food
I have never had anybody applaud my entering a room before until last week at dance class. See, I have my usual 'spot' on the floor and I've been a regular for some time now. Why do I dance? Because it makes me happy. That's it. There is no other reason. Within the last month I have been told that I glow and that I'm light on my feet. Light? Me??? LOL. This past week dance class was completely PACKED with newbies and young ones at that. Where did they stand? Behind me because I knew the choreography. Nothing gets me higher than a jammed dance studio floor with the synchronicity of everybody's energy movin' and groovin' to the sounds of uplifting music.
Why did they applaud when I entered the room? Because I was late. They were hoping I would be there to guide them through the choreography and did not think I would show up. Lame...but it made me smile nonetheless.
Which now brings me to food. My passion for cooking is taking me now to competitions in Sonoma County that are pretty large scale. I'm not out to win any awards this year, but I'm getting the lay of the land by volunteering my help for events. I'm *really* good at organizing...it's an anal German trait, but whatever. Plus, I have met some fun people in the process who love cooking and food as much as I do.
Dance and food. What else is there? MUSIC. Which reminds me....my flute is feeling ignored these days.
Why did they applaud when I entered the room? Because I was late. They were hoping I would be there to guide them through the choreography and did not think I would show up. Lame...but it made me smile nonetheless.
Which now brings me to food. My passion for cooking is taking me now to competitions in Sonoma County that are pretty large scale. I'm not out to win any awards this year, but I'm getting the lay of the land by volunteering my help for events. I'm *really* good at organizing...it's an anal German trait, but whatever. Plus, I have met some fun people in the process who love cooking and food as much as I do.
Dance and food. What else is there? MUSIC. Which reminds me....my flute is feeling ignored these days.
Sunday, April 24, 2016
the Finances of Death
Here's a true story. Once upon a time there lived a guy who was instrumental in getting Charles Schwab up and running. See, Charles Schwab did not have any money of his own - he used his wife's inheritance to get his company up and running. When the Charles Schwab Company was in its infancy it was teetering on collapse and almost imploded on itself.
At a pow-wow in a house boat on Lake Shasta in the late 1970's - early 1980's sat a council of stoned, drunk, and ego laden guys high on cocaine who were going to rescue Chuck and try to make the company succeed.
They did. Not long after the company grew into a the first large-scale discount brokerage house in nation. The guys in the background of Chuck's successful corporate turn-around then took their show on the road to rescue other brokerage firms with problems.
One of the guys, Mr. Rescue, had a wife. Mr. Rescue was on the road constantly saving brokerage houses of their internal operational woes. Mr. Rescue never shared any of their personal financial information with Wife-ey-Poo. All Wife-ey-Poo knew was going to play tennis at the Marin Country Club and arranging flowers for her to photograph and paint. She lived in ignorant, kept, sheltered bliss. She thought they were "all that" and life was glorious. yes...the key word was thought.
Sadly, Mr. Rescue died in a hotel room on the road trying to save yet another brokerage house. Wife-ey-Poo was devastated. She did not even know how to balance a checkbook. Certainly there were life insurance policies in place and the houses and stocks he *claimed* he owned were worth something, right?
Much to Wife-ey-Poo's surprise they had NO assets to speak of once the debts were figured out. It was a typical house of cards. Mr. Rescue was FLAT broke. All Mr. Rescue did was shuffle personal debt around from one credit source to another...and he made a so-called career of "helping" brokerage firms get their operations in order.
Clueless, naive Wife-ey-Poo is still painting and photographing flowers...too bad it's on the freeway off ramp next to the Mexican kid hustling strawberries as she can no longer afford the membership dues at the Marin Country Club.
At a pow-wow in a house boat on Lake Shasta in the late 1970's - early 1980's sat a council of stoned, drunk, and ego laden guys high on cocaine who were going to rescue Chuck and try to make the company succeed.
They did. Not long after the company grew into a the first large-scale discount brokerage house in nation. The guys in the background of Chuck's successful corporate turn-around then took their show on the road to rescue other brokerage firms with problems.
One of the guys, Mr. Rescue, had a wife. Mr. Rescue was on the road constantly saving brokerage houses of their internal operational woes. Mr. Rescue never shared any of their personal financial information with Wife-ey-Poo. All Wife-ey-Poo knew was going to play tennis at the Marin Country Club and arranging flowers for her to photograph and paint. She lived in ignorant, kept, sheltered bliss. She thought they were "all that" and life was glorious. yes...the key word was thought.
Sadly, Mr. Rescue died in a hotel room on the road trying to save yet another brokerage house. Wife-ey-Poo was devastated. She did not even know how to balance a checkbook. Certainly there were life insurance policies in place and the houses and stocks he *claimed* he owned were worth something, right?
Much to Wife-ey-Poo's surprise they had NO assets to speak of once the debts were figured out. It was a typical house of cards. Mr. Rescue was FLAT broke. All Mr. Rescue did was shuffle personal debt around from one credit source to another...and he made a so-called career of "helping" brokerage firms get their operations in order.
Clueless, naive Wife-ey-Poo is still painting and photographing flowers...too bad it's on the freeway off ramp next to the Mexican kid hustling strawberries as she can no longer afford the membership dues at the Marin Country Club.
Train Wreck and Vulture
You all know what a locust is, right? It's a grasshopper that eats and destroys everything in its path. When the food supply is gone, they simply move onto a fresh supply.
Sadly, there are people with the personality of a locust as well. They will use and suck everything from somebody (usually money) and when it's gone they just move onto their next victim to continue the cycle. They need to be constantly feeding themselves for their own survival, but they never create their own food source and depend on a sustenance source others have created.
Backdrop: I just got back from visiting a very good friend up near Shasta. We have been friends for 29 years. Her son is going through a divorce. I will refer to my friend's son as Train Wreck. My friend and her husband have created quite a comfortable life for themselves over the years through smart investing and hard work.
Fast Forward 20 years: Train Wreck gets tangled up with a woman I'll call Vulture. Vulture had one look at the place where my friend lived and saw $$$$$$$ thinking the family had lots of it. Two weeks later SHE (Vulture) asks my friend's son, Train Wreck, to get married.
Train Wreck was so smitten with Vulture that he agreed.
13 years pass and Train Wreck and Vulture could never get it together financially. Of course they reproduced, so now there is an innocent child in the mix. Train Wreck inherited quite a sum from his late father's estate. Train Wreck could have easily put down money for a house or condo or other stable investment for his future. Did Train Wreck listen? Of course not. He decided to blow it on a band. Yup. A band.
Train Wreck could not hold down a job, either, and wanted to call his own hours, terms and conditions. That's fine if you're not dependent on an income to support yourself and YOU are the boss. However, being flat broke does not give you a list of options for employment, but Train Wreck thought entitled. He's too good to work 9-5.
At this point Vulture is beginning to feel the financial strain. Her princess lifestyle is coming to a crashing halt. Vulture and Train Wreck move into my friend's guest house with their two kids. Yup. Now there are TWO innocents in the picture.
My friend, begrudgingly, loans Vulture and Train Wreck THOUSANDS upon THOUSANDS of dollars to get their financial house in order. Neither one of them have a credit score that even registers as it's so poor. Only Guido will loan them money at 270% interest. Both Train Wreck and Vulture vow up and down to my friend that they have learned their financial lessons and will pay it back.
Nope. They blew it on trips and a car they did not need. My friend has reached the end of her rope and refused to loan them any more money. Vulture left Train Wreck a week later and she now has another boyfriend she is sucking from.
The moral of the story? They both have Bernie Sanders bumper stickers because they think they are VICTIMIZED by the economy. bullshit. They each have had more opportunities than most. They made poor choices and now want to blame somebody else and think that *WE* the actual *TAXPAYERS* owe them something.
Sadly, there are people with the personality of a locust as well. They will use and suck everything from somebody (usually money) and when it's gone they just move onto their next victim to continue the cycle. They need to be constantly feeding themselves for their own survival, but they never create their own food source and depend on a sustenance source others have created.
Backdrop: I just got back from visiting a very good friend up near Shasta. We have been friends for 29 years. Her son is going through a divorce. I will refer to my friend's son as Train Wreck. My friend and her husband have created quite a comfortable life for themselves over the years through smart investing and hard work.
Fast Forward 20 years: Train Wreck gets tangled up with a woman I'll call Vulture. Vulture had one look at the place where my friend lived and saw $$$$$$$ thinking the family had lots of it. Two weeks later SHE (Vulture) asks my friend's son, Train Wreck, to get married.
Train Wreck was so smitten with Vulture that he agreed.
13 years pass and Train Wreck and Vulture could never get it together financially. Of course they reproduced, so now there is an innocent child in the mix. Train Wreck inherited quite a sum from his late father's estate. Train Wreck could have easily put down money for a house or condo or other stable investment for his future. Did Train Wreck listen? Of course not. He decided to blow it on a band. Yup. A band.
Train Wreck could not hold down a job, either, and wanted to call his own hours, terms and conditions. That's fine if you're not dependent on an income to support yourself and YOU are the boss. However, being flat broke does not give you a list of options for employment, but Train Wreck thought entitled. He's too good to work 9-5.
At this point Vulture is beginning to feel the financial strain. Her princess lifestyle is coming to a crashing halt. Vulture and Train Wreck move into my friend's guest house with their two kids. Yup. Now there are TWO innocents in the picture.
My friend, begrudgingly, loans Vulture and Train Wreck THOUSANDS upon THOUSANDS of dollars to get their financial house in order. Neither one of them have a credit score that even registers as it's so poor. Only Guido will loan them money at 270% interest. Both Train Wreck and Vulture vow up and down to my friend that they have learned their financial lessons and will pay it back.
Nope. They blew it on trips and a car they did not need. My friend has reached the end of her rope and refused to loan them any more money. Vulture left Train Wreck a week later and she now has another boyfriend she is sucking from.
The moral of the story? They both have Bernie Sanders bumper stickers because they think they are VICTIMIZED by the economy. bullshit. They each have had more opportunities than most. They made poor choices and now want to blame somebody else and think that *WE* the actual *TAXPAYERS* owe them something.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
Let's Go Crazy!!!!
As a child of the 80's in Minnesota of course Roger Nelson (a.k.a. Prince) was a HUGE influence. Everybody had a sighting of him around town -- especially if they looked down (sorry...my warped sense of humor kicking in). Until Prince, nobody even knew black people lived in Minnesota.
I guess we can take lyrics from one of his songs, "Let's Go Crazy" off the Purple Rain LP that were:
All excited
Don't know why
Maybe it's cuz
We all gonna die
When we do
What's it all for
....and REALLY ponder that....I hope he found out what it's all for.
Catch ya later, Roger Nelson. Gods willing you will get an extra 10" in your next incarnation where it counts;)
I guess we can take lyrics from one of his songs, "Let's Go Crazy" off the Purple Rain LP that were:
All excited
Don't know why
Maybe it's cuz
We all gonna die
When we do
What's it all for
....and REALLY ponder that....I hope he found out what it's all for.
Catch ya later, Roger Nelson. Gods willing you will get an extra 10" in your next incarnation where it counts;)
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
Lunch Meeting - Hey Mikey!!!!!
Today we had a regional meeting with my California colleagues. There is not a lot of turnover in my industry and we have a couple of celebrities. Can you stand the suspense? Aside from a couple of ex-professional sport jocks, my industry can brag about the following:
Yup, who would have thought that a promising career as a child actor in a star role in a famous cereal commercial from the 70's would lead to a career working in such a non-glamorous capacity.
Other little things mentioned today that made me laugh out loud were a couple of comments made at the table. Thank goddesses we had a private room.
"I took a piss of the very top of the Golden Gate Bridge. The very, very top - where you take the worker elevator where the public is not allowed. No worries. The piss dissipates into a fine mist from that altitude and does not hit the tourists below."
"Have you seen the Hillary Clinton nut cracker? She can crush nuts between her thighs -- a real ball buster."
"I had my DNA tested. A lot of it comes from angry, warring European tribes who took down the Romans. No wonder when sitting around listening to guys in sweaters and ties talking about insurance I have the uncontrollable urge to want to saw their heads off."
"Who???? Fred???? I would not piss in that asshole's mouth if his lungs were on fire."
After hearing such uncensored banter for that last 25+ years no wonder I'm so desensitized. It's a good thing I have a warped sense of humor or I would have been out of here a long, long time ago. There's something refreshing about hearing the non-politically correct version on anything and everything.
Yup, who would have thought that a promising career as a child actor in a star role in a famous cereal commercial from the 70's would lead to a career working in such a non-glamorous capacity.
Other little things mentioned today that made me laugh out loud were a couple of comments made at the table. Thank goddesses we had a private room.
"I took a piss of the very top of the Golden Gate Bridge. The very, very top - where you take the worker elevator where the public is not allowed. No worries. The piss dissipates into a fine mist from that altitude and does not hit the tourists below."
"Have you seen the Hillary Clinton nut cracker? She can crush nuts between her thighs -- a real ball buster."
"I had my DNA tested. A lot of it comes from angry, warring European tribes who took down the Romans. No wonder when sitting around listening to guys in sweaters and ties talking about insurance I have the uncontrollable urge to want to saw their heads off."
"Who???? Fred???? I would not piss in that asshole's mouth if his lungs were on fire."
After hearing such uncensored banter for that last 25+ years no wonder I'm so desensitized. It's a good thing I have a warped sense of humor or I would have been out of here a long, long time ago. There's something refreshing about hearing the non-politically correct version on anything and everything.
Monday, April 18, 2016
The Real Estate Chanel
Here is something that should be banned along with subprime loans that helped tank the real estate market a few years ago -- the real estate channel.
You know what I'm talking about. It's the house hunting channel. The channel where the young couple wants to live on the beach and they are more demanding and high strung than a pit bull-poodle mix as their real estate agent shows them one house after the other. The wife usually has the annoying, nasally whine of a Kardashian wannabe saying she wants a house with "a more beach-y feel with open space and room to entertain friends."
The husband wants a man-cave to get away from her whining and never ending demands.
Whatever. What I don't get is that they tout purchasing a home for $500,000 like it's nothing. I don't know what kind of jobs they have or what amount mommy and daddy are donating to the cause, but half a million for a home for couple starting out is not chump change. It's unrealistic and irresponsible to show on TV.
Hey, they don't show cigarette commercials anymore for the VERY same reason.
I smell another real estate bubble coming. This show is nothing more than the real estate agents'
propaganda chanel duping people into thinking they can afford mortagages they can't in reality afford. Real estate agents all work on commission as a percentage of the selling price. Of course they want the market inflated. This TV show is like luring young teens into dope and getting them addicted.
Stay tuned.
You know what I'm talking about. It's the house hunting channel. The channel where the young couple wants to live on the beach and they are more demanding and high strung than a pit bull-poodle mix as their real estate agent shows them one house after the other. The wife usually has the annoying, nasally whine of a Kardashian wannabe saying she wants a house with "a more beach-y feel with open space and room to entertain friends."
The husband wants a man-cave to get away from her whining and never ending demands.
Whatever. What I don't get is that they tout purchasing a home for $500,000 like it's nothing. I don't know what kind of jobs they have or what amount mommy and daddy are donating to the cause, but half a million for a home for couple starting out is not chump change. It's unrealistic and irresponsible to show on TV.
Hey, they don't show cigarette commercials anymore for the VERY same reason.
I smell another real estate bubble coming. This show is nothing more than the real estate agents'
propaganda chanel duping people into thinking they can afford mortagages they can't in reality afford. Real estate agents all work on commission as a percentage of the selling price. Of course they want the market inflated. This TV show is like luring young teens into dope and getting them addicted.
Stay tuned.
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Wedding Season - Destination Weddings
Maybe I'm just old fashioned, but isn't gift giving to be at the discretion of the giver and not the recipient? Is it not crass for the recipient to even to expect gifts? I guess not. Creating your shopping wish list for others to complete is so rampant these days it's considered normal.
What really floors me are the invitations I'm receiving for weddings, baby showers, and whatnot with pre-selected gifts they want me to purchase for them come from families with more money than I will ever see in my lifetime.
Money does not buy class. The more money they have the greedier they are.
One "save-the-date" destination wedding invitation (delivered by email, of course) I received shows the couple's destination selection and says "What do I get if I travel to attend So and So's wedding?"
What???? What do I "GET" if I travel to the wedding??? Would you not think that the honor of watching two people declare their love for each other would be the main attraction? What else is a wedding for? Lists of activities and accomodations were included on this "save the date" preview of coming attractions as if potential customers (oops, I meant guests) were just luke warm on the idea of traveling for 'just' a wedding that there would be plenty else to do otherwise.
It makes me wonder .... Why even invite people you're not absolutely certain want to travel long distances, pay travel expenses, and give up precious vacation time to begin with? Oh.....I know......the PRESENTS.
Adding tackiness to greed was mention of the couple wanting guests to contribute to their dream of owning a recreational vehicle. Forget blenders, towels, and silver - just fork over CASH.
Wow. If a couple is fortunate enough to have so much just starting out they have *no* business asking for anything. However, I think I hit the nail on the head. Business.
What really floors me are the invitations I'm receiving for weddings, baby showers, and whatnot with pre-selected gifts they want me to purchase for them come from families with more money than I will ever see in my lifetime.
Money does not buy class. The more money they have the greedier they are.
One "save-the-date" destination wedding invitation (delivered by email, of course) I received shows the couple's destination selection and says "What do I get if I travel to attend So and So's wedding?"
What???? What do I "GET" if I travel to the wedding??? Would you not think that the honor of watching two people declare their love for each other would be the main attraction? What else is a wedding for? Lists of activities and accomodations were included on this "save the date" preview of coming attractions as if potential customers (oops, I meant guests) were just luke warm on the idea of traveling for 'just' a wedding that there would be plenty else to do otherwise.
It makes me wonder .... Why even invite people you're not absolutely certain want to travel long distances, pay travel expenses, and give up precious vacation time to begin with? Oh.....I know......the PRESENTS.
Adding tackiness to greed was mention of the couple wanting guests to contribute to their dream of owning a recreational vehicle. Forget blenders, towels, and silver - just fork over CASH.
Wow. If a couple is fortunate enough to have so much just starting out they have *no* business asking for anything. However, I think I hit the nail on the head. Business.
Saturday, April 16, 2016
Summer
It's going to be a busy summer for Quiet Rage. I'm already starting to feel the pressure of completing projects before taking off to Europe for a bit. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad I will still have a houseful in my absence as my "kids" will be home for the summer.
Yes, I still run a boarding house for teens and young adults whose parents went off the deep end and abandoned them for drugs, booze, and new love interests tossing their own offspring aside as if they were nothing more than a temporary obligation to be rid of as soon as possible.
Anyway, I've accumulated quite a base of kids who call me mom. Now I have a new title that I'm not sure if I am ready for -- grandma. No, not a biological grandchild, but the granddaughter of a friend of mine who's family is going though a *really* tough time: divorce, substance abuse, money problems, joblessness, etc.
My "granddaughter" stays with me quite often overnight and she has created her own art space within the house. She comes in and immediately heads to her art desk set up in the front room, gives hugs, plays with the dog and cat, and creates artwork that depicts her observations of the house.
My cork board in the kitchen is now covered with drawings my "granddaughter" created of Quiet Rage cooking various foods with little hearts all around the border. CUTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes, I still run a boarding house for teens and young adults whose parents went off the deep end and abandoned them for drugs, booze, and new love interests tossing their own offspring aside as if they were nothing more than a temporary obligation to be rid of as soon as possible.
Anyway, I've accumulated quite a base of kids who call me mom. Now I have a new title that I'm not sure if I am ready for -- grandma. No, not a biological grandchild, but the granddaughter of a friend of mine who's family is going though a *really* tough time: divorce, substance abuse, money problems, joblessness, etc.
My "granddaughter" stays with me quite often overnight and she has created her own art space within the house. She comes in and immediately heads to her art desk set up in the front room, gives hugs, plays with the dog and cat, and creates artwork that depicts her observations of the house.
My cork board in the kitchen is now covered with drawings my "granddaughter" created of Quiet Rage cooking various foods with little hearts all around the border. CUTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
Business Partners, Job Interviews, and Resumes
It's been a long day. I'm a little rummy after such a long, tedious day so please forgive me. I've been in the business world for 30 years and there are some confusing trends that I need help with now that I'm on the "senior" side.
Once upon a time, in more defined times, when at cocktail mixers (remember those?) I would get introduced to people who then would want to introduce me to their "partner." Back then, it was automatically assumed that they were business partners and the relationship was platonic. Now when I'm introduced to a "partner" it takes on a whole other meaning. It could mean their same-sex lover, business partner, fleeting opposite sex l'amour du jour, all the above, or any combination thereof.
Help a girl out, would you please? Don't make me guess as I *really* try not to insert foot into mouth. I usually run into this problem at business functions and I don't know your personal life (and I would never ask), and so don't get angry when you are talking about yourself and your business and you say "my partner" and I give you a long pause of a stare with one eyebrow raised in confusion. Partner as in????????? What????? I have too much class to blurt out what I really want to ask, so I do the cocktail conversation mixer dance on landmines being evasive hoping not to offend anybody.
Now onto job interviews and resumes. Today I interviewed an applicant who fished out a resume from his sticker-laden backpack that looked like it belonged to a brooding teenage goth and told me, "I have a resume for you to look at. I did not have time to update it and it's a couple years old."
Hmmmmmm... Strike one.... Handing out a dated resume at an interview and then announcing that he did not have time to update it.
Strike two... His resume listed EXCELLENT TIME MANAGEMENT as his top skill. I'm sorry, but I could not let that slide. As usual, I call people on their bull&*$% and they never like it.
NEXT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can't make this stuff up, people.
Once upon a time, in more defined times, when at cocktail mixers (remember those?) I would get introduced to people who then would want to introduce me to their "partner." Back then, it was automatically assumed that they were business partners and the relationship was platonic. Now when I'm introduced to a "partner" it takes on a whole other meaning. It could mean their same-sex lover, business partner, fleeting opposite sex l'amour du jour, all the above, or any combination thereof.
Help a girl out, would you please? Don't make me guess as I *really* try not to insert foot into mouth. I usually run into this problem at business functions and I don't know your personal life (and I would never ask), and so don't get angry when you are talking about yourself and your business and you say "my partner" and I give you a long pause of a stare with one eyebrow raised in confusion. Partner as in????????? What????? I have too much class to blurt out what I really want to ask, so I do the cocktail conversation mixer dance on landmines being evasive hoping not to offend anybody.
Now onto job interviews and resumes. Today I interviewed an applicant who fished out a resume from his sticker-laden backpack that looked like it belonged to a brooding teenage goth and told me, "I have a resume for you to look at. I did not have time to update it and it's a couple years old."
Hmmmmmm... Strike one.... Handing out a dated resume at an interview and then announcing that he did not have time to update it.
Strike two... His resume listed EXCELLENT TIME MANAGEMENT as his top skill. I'm sorry, but I could not let that slide. As usual, I call people on their bull&*$% and they never like it.
NEXT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can't make this stuff up, people.
Saturday, April 9, 2016
Lawyers and Insurance Companies
I hate lawyers. All they do is complicate things and drive up costs. Lawyers are wrong 50% of the time if their case goes to trial charging you $550 per hour along the way. No wonder you can never get them to shut up or write you a one-page opinion letter. The longer they talk and write, the more they charge you. Lawyers create problems to make you believe they are needed to solve them. You have to keep them on a short leash or they will suck you dry in a heart beat. In the end the final decision is on you, so they don't really have any skin in the final outcome but collect plenty along the way. You have the same odds flipping a coin, but way less expensive. What a racket.
I hate insurance companies. If ever there was an industry that blatantly &*%$ people over, it's the insurance companies. I think of TYD's (one of my Minnesota coven) now deceased father quite a bit lately as I deal with the inner workings of insurance. He never purchased insurance for anything unless absolutely necessary; he only had catastrophic coverage where the premiums are very low, but the deductible high. However, he was covered if a tornado came through and demolished the house. TYD's dad had an investment account to deal with the unforeseen automobile fender benders, minor storm damage, and the like. Once he penciled out the premiums and the hassle of actually collecting from an insurance company should he ever actually need to use the it, he figured he was money ahead if he invested it. He figured why pay all those expensive premiums when they just jack up your rates if you actually use it? Smart man.
I deal with the side of insurance - mostly medical - that the public does not see. I don't care how 'customer friendly' the commercials are where they pretend to care about you. They are out to collect as much as possible in premiums and not pay out while their executives throw lavish parties in exotic locations. I've seen it with my own two eyes. I could not believe the fancy parties insurance companies throw whilst somebody who is suffering greatly is getting their life-saving medication denied because it's 'not part of the plan.'
The only thing I hate more than lawyers and insurance companies are the lawyers for insurance companies.
I hate insurance companies. If ever there was an industry that blatantly &*%$ people over, it's the insurance companies. I think of TYD's (one of my Minnesota coven) now deceased father quite a bit lately as I deal with the inner workings of insurance. He never purchased insurance for anything unless absolutely necessary; he only had catastrophic coverage where the premiums are very low, but the deductible high. However, he was covered if a tornado came through and demolished the house. TYD's dad had an investment account to deal with the unforeseen automobile fender benders, minor storm damage, and the like. Once he penciled out the premiums and the hassle of actually collecting from an insurance company should he ever actually need to use the it, he figured he was money ahead if he invested it. He figured why pay all those expensive premiums when they just jack up your rates if you actually use it? Smart man.
I deal with the side of insurance - mostly medical - that the public does not see. I don't care how 'customer friendly' the commercials are where they pretend to care about you. They are out to collect as much as possible in premiums and not pay out while their executives throw lavish parties in exotic locations. I've seen it with my own two eyes. I could not believe the fancy parties insurance companies throw whilst somebody who is suffering greatly is getting their life-saving medication denied because it's 'not part of the plan.'
The only thing I hate more than lawyers and insurance companies are the lawyers for insurance companies.
Friday, April 8, 2016
a-CHOO!!! Pollen Bombs
I've heard from several sources that Sonoma County, California is one of THE worst places on earth if you suffer from pollen allergies. a-CHOO!!! a-CHOO!!! Sorry, had to sneeze and grab a tissue to dab my watery eyes and runny nose.
I love spring. Pollen bombs dropped on my deck will not dampen my enthusiasm for bringing out the deck furniture and inviting people over for dinner and wine. The back deck has yellow snow that is really from pollen bombs.
I love spring. Pollen bombs dropped on my deck will not dampen my enthusiasm for bringing out the deck furniture and inviting people over for dinner and wine. The back deck has yellow snow that is really from pollen bombs.
Thursday, April 7, 2016
Euphemism
...and to think that at my age I have heard of every euphemism for sex imaginable. It's either that or my internal, giggly 7th grader got the better of me (again).
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
Bit the Bullet
I just bit the bullet, my friends, and booked my FIRST CLASS ticket to Europe;) The way things are going I just may, in fact, actually bite bullets as the first stop is Brussels. After departing Belgium it's off to Amsterdam where I will INSIST on taking a side trip to visit grandpa's tomb in Nieuwe Kerk, Delft. The most stressful part of the trip will be fireworks in Paris on Bastille Day. After that I think I will relax and the river cruise from Paris to Normandy will be oh-so-mellow.
Anyway, I'm on my way to see you grandpa. We will have a nice long, silent chat as I feel the need to tell you directly what an asshole you were (oh yes, the family still has stories that are not found in history books). Yes, you were a complete asshole on some fronts. However, you left a legacy that still holds your fighting spirit. I still love ya anyway despite your shortcomings.
A couple images of gramps. It is really eerie how my father looks just like him. One would have thought that the mixing of DNA over the generations would have mutated such a striking resemblance. I love the one where he's giving the finger LOL. The apple did not fall too far from the tree.
Anyway, I'm on my way to see you grandpa. We will have a nice long, silent chat as I feel the need to tell you directly what an asshole you were (oh yes, the family still has stories that are not found in history books). Yes, you were a complete asshole on some fronts. However, you left a legacy that still holds your fighting spirit. I still love ya anyway despite your shortcomings.
A couple images of gramps. It is really eerie how my father looks just like him. One would have thought that the mixing of DNA over the generations would have mutated such a striking resemblance. I love the one where he's giving the finger LOL. The apple did not fall too far from the tree.
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Scary Landing - Oakland Airport
They tell me that landing is the most dangerous part of a flight. I believe that to be true, and my experience landing at the Oakland Airport has solidified that belief. Please excuse me while I change my underwear as I, along with everybody else on the flight, shat our pants.
There was a horrific cross wind upon landing and air traffic control had our plane land on a runway that was not intended to accommodate a commercial jet, but for smaller private jets. We landed HARD, we tilted, rocked back and forth, bounced around , and the right wing just about hit the ground and tore off. We ran out of runway space and had to back up and turn around to get to the terminal.
People were crying and screaming. I looked out the window and saw the rows and rows of emergency vehicles. There were rows of fire trucks and ambulances all lit up with their lights flashing and fully manned like they were ready to pounce as they were obviously expecting something *really* bad about to go down.
There was a horrific cross wind upon landing and air traffic control had our plane land on a runway that was not intended to accommodate a commercial jet, but for smaller private jets. We landed HARD, we tilted, rocked back and forth, bounced around , and the right wing just about hit the ground and tore off. We ran out of runway space and had to back up and turn around to get to the terminal.
People were crying and screaming. I looked out the window and saw the rows and rows of emergency vehicles. There were rows of fire trucks and ambulances all lit up with their lights flashing and fully manned like they were ready to pounce as they were obviously expecting something *really* bad about to go down.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
