Tour Chernobyl?

Interesting, with a good dose of chilling and some creepy thrown in too.

Finally!

A place to get my whiskers styled for a fancy evening out.

So today sucked. My company laid off 30% of the Network staff (you're defined in my company as being Network or Traffic). I'm thankful--really--that I'm not part of that, but all remaining employees are being asked to take a salary cut. Granted, it's not a 100% cut in salary, but it still hurts.

Let me explain something: I'm about to celebrate my nine-year anniversary with The Company. Nine years. I've been employed with The Company longer than Seinfeld was on the air. Longer than All in the Family. Anyway, I went from 2002 until 2008 without any kind of pay increase. I moved into a safe (meaning not ghetto) house in a better (no hate crimes) neighborhood in a city with a higher cost of living with no adjustment to my income. Again, I reminded myself that at least they were letting me keep my job. Then last year I was given some good news: I got a 3% raise. My company recognized my increased job duties and supervisory skills in an area where I had absolutely no desire to become versed and awarded me a 3% increase in my worth.

Too bad this was right on the heels of daycare tuition increases making the whole thing a moot point.

Where was I? Oh yeah, 3% in six years. So, in exchange for my job, they're reducing my salary by 5%. Not only did my raise really get negated, but they took more than they gave me in the first place. I make less today in 2009 than I did in 2002; I'm worth less. I'm worthless.

Thanks Westwood One. Thanks Shane, Peter and Tom (page 5). You guys are the best. Enjoy the remaining 1-3 years left on your contracts that we still legally have to pay you millions of dollars for. Appreciate it.

Dickheads.

Someone loves me

So for a while now I've been mourning the loss of a couple of my favorite tv shows: Arrested Development and Veronica Mars.

Someone has answered my prayers.

I just discovered Party Down. (This gives you the first episode. You're welcome).

It's got a very AD feel to it with some of the sight gags and situations. The boss has a slight David Brent from the British Office. Almost everyone on the screen at any given time has been in either Veronica Mars or Freaks and Geeks (two words: Bill and Haverchuck).

It's almost as though Rob Thomas, Judd Apatow and Paul Rudd thought "What would Jill like to watch on a Friday night?" I don't remember writing the wish list but they've apparently gotten a copy and put it into production.

Of course, since I'm already salivating over only the first episode, it will of course be cancelled toute de suite, but since it's on cable I might get six episodes out of this. God willing.

Soccer-a-no-go

Pele he is not.

So today was our first--and probably last--Spring soccer practice. Will did pretty well at the three drills he attempted, but he's not so much with the listening to directions. Any readers may have two minutes of "I Told You So"s starting now.

The coach, Amy, had said that all they wanted this age group to do is kick the ball in the goal. There we're good. Will kicked the ball as hard as he could towards the goal and everyone clapped. Then he needed a Bubba Water break (you can barely see the cup in his hands: it's bright pink).

The second drill was a run and kick. I believe soccer players actually call it "dribbling".

Please notice the approach. Will keeps the ball well within his limits and maintains control at all times. Too bad it's veering directly left of the actual goal.

He did make it in however:

He did start the afternoon in shin guards and would actually point them out to various people on the field. He'd also randomly shout out "I got shin guards!" at different points during practice. It reminded me of those stupid forwarded emails I got freshman year of college about how to freak people out in elevators: my favorite was "I've got new socks on."

Anyway, like I said, he did a few drills but always wound up running back to us crying and I spent most of the hour-long practice holding him. I had a feeling he wasn't developed enough for this (even though he was faaaar from being the smallest one of the ten) but figured it wouldn't hurt to give it a shot. So tomorrow I'll call and withdraw him and attempt to get our money back. We'll try again in the fall.

March 14, 2009

So yesterday was a bit of an exciting day.

I had gotten word on Friday night that Will's first soccer practice will be Monday evening at 6pm (first game is Saturday, March 28th). His coach mentioned that shin guards are required for all games, so yesterday morning we ventured into the world of sporting equipment and bought the boy some guards. I was worried that he'd hate wearing them, but apparently Will's got no issues.

Yesterday was also my SIL's birthday. As a joint birthday gift for herself and daughter, she purchased a bounce house. Yes, she did:

She swears it's the best $400 (!) she ever spent. The initial purchase was intended for Kylie's birthday party so all attendant kids could be in there at once. Still not sure how that's going to work out: the weight limit on it is supposedly 75 lbs, which means Will and Kylie combined just make it.

The two of them did have a blast and I'm thrilled that I don't have to shell out the money for it. Will was exhausted by the end of the evening, but he still had time for some ham:

Yes, that is his motorcycle and yes, it is on my furniture.

Like I mentioned, by the end of the night Will was pooped and ready to drop anywhere:
Also, this afternoon I got word that my new Varsity Cheerleader and soon-to-be-16-year-old niece, Alexis, and her daddy might make it up for a visit at some point this week. As Six Flags will undoubtedly be on the agenda, we'll have to remind Matt not to bring his keys.

Do you remember?

An old friend got married this weekend.

We went to the wedding in Austin and I was asked that Will not attend. He wasn't specifically singled out as not being invited: it was a small beautiful wedding in an old elegant hotel and kids and these situations don't go hand-in-hand. It hurt, though. It hurt because the bride is one of my oldest friends and we live such separate lives but, every time we talk, she always comments that, no matter how long it's been since we've been in touch, we always go back to the way we used to be together.

We don't, though. She would have met my two-and-a-half year old little boy by now if we're the way we used to be. I would have met her husband before the wedding if we're the way we used to be. I feel like we'd be part of each other's lives more--or at all--if we were the way we used to be.

I actually went into this weekend not looking forward to the event at all. My feelings were hurt that this woman, who was once so important in my life that she stood as the maid of honor at my wedding, hadn't asked me to be a part of hers in any form. I was annoyed that I wasn't invited to a shower, but my mother was. I was annoyed that I was being asked to attend and to have my son excluded. I was annoyed that she was, essentially, asking me to choose between her and another friend by scheduling her most important day on the other's birthday.

I'm glad I went to the wedding.

It really was beautiful, the bride was stunning as always, but even more so since she is madly in love with her husband. I can honestly say I'm thrilled for her--I've always wanted her to be happy and she really seems to be. Her husband seems like a really sweet man who wants nothing more in the world than to make and keep her happy.

The whole time at the reception I felt like I was saying good-bye. The alcohol had a lot to do with that, I will freely admit. I cried when the bride danced with her father and I cried even harder when I danced with mine. I felt good about her--and our relationship to this point--when we left the reception and drunkenly made our way back to our hotel. I told her I've missed her friendship and the way we used to be. I told her good-bye and her husband to take care of her.

I don't know where we'll go from here. I'm sure I'll still get mass text-messages from her on holidays, but that's more than she gets from me. I'll still send her Christmas and birthday cards, but that's more than I get from her. I'll still get my feelings hurt when she doesn't acknowledge my son's birthday. She'll still get her feelings hurt when I call to wish her a happy birthday at 11pm the day of. We'll continue to live our lives separately and remember what we used to be.

I do want her to be happy. I want her to have a good life. But I want to remember that it's okay that friendships drift apart and you become different people. It's not bad, it's not meant to be cruel; it's just a natural part of life. The friendship has reached it's expiration date. I think we're there and I need to admit that it's okay to let it go.

I don't know if I can though. Because as I write this I'm sad and teary. And I don't know if that's because I think a large part of the way we are now is because of me. And I hate feeling like I've let someone down in that way. Because she has been there for me, been a real and true friend, through some crappy parts of my life. And I don't know that I've done that for her.