Category: Life

This $#!+ Is Fi-in’ To Get Real, Yo

~ riggledo ~ 2 Comments

OK, I don’t know what’s up with that blog title, except that it’s the first thing that popped into my head and it’s TOTALLY tongue in cheek.

Anyway, this thing really is starting to get real.  Let me ‘splain.  No, there is too much.  Let me sum up.

After more than a few months of thinking about and making not entirely whole-hearted attempts at taking this EMT class I’ve talked about, I had sort of begun to lose momentum on the whole subject.  I’ve been enrolled in the class for a few months but with months to wait it didn’t exactly feel real, so much as just a vague notion, far off in the future.  Once I enrolled in the class, there wasn’t much more to do with regard to the school and the truth is, I sort of let it all fall by the way-side, thinking, “I’ve got plenty of time.”  The campus bookstore didn’t yet have the information about my textbooks and I still had to take CPR for the Professional Rescuer and Standard First Aid as well as getting two Tuberculosis skin tests and the first two of three shots for the Hepatitis B vaccination.

To be fair, I scheduled the first injection and the TB test right away after I enrolled in the class and it’s a good thing I did because there’s a specific timetable for those.  But as for scheduling the CPR and First Aid classes I kind of dragged my feet.  Can anyone spell Self-Sabotage?

Finally, I realized I was running out of time to take the safety courses and I got busy scheduling those with The American Red Cross.  The CPR class was last week Monday and by the time I was creeping up on it, I was feeling a little apprehensive.  I think that’s somewhat normal but at the same time, I’ve taken Basic CPR w/AED three times.  It’s not like I didn’t have any idea what I was getting myself into.  This class was just going to expand on what I’ve already learned.

The class was awesome!  I really enjoyed it, and it actually served to re-energize me about the whole thing!

I have a month and two days until my EMT Class starts.  I have had my two TB Skin tests and two of the three Hep B shots with the third one to be administered in November.  I have taken the CPR class and the Standard First Aid class is scheduled for this Saturday morning.  Just today the bookstore has my textbooks which have been order and should arrive tomorrow.

It looks quite a lot like my friend isn’t going to take the class with me after all, which is really OK.  I had mixed feelings about her taking the class to begin with.  I had looked forward to taking the class with someone and having someone to turn to if I needed help with the material, but I was concerned that walking in the door with someone I know would hold me back from opening up and getting to know other people in the class and I didn’t want that to happen.  Also, when I first found out that she was thinking of taking the class, I told her if she did, I would drive her to and from if she wanted.  I realized early on that driving her to class was going to be tough unless she could meet me at my office at 5:00 and be dependable to be on-time.  I told her that and she didn’t resist.

The thing is, when I made the offer, I didn’t realize that the school is less than a mile from my house.  If she decided to take the class with me and take me up on my offer, I would have to drive about 12 miles, one way, out of my way to take her home before going home myself… at 9:30 at night.  Now, I made the offer and I know her circumstances.  If she decides to take the class, the offer will stand and I’ll drive all that way out of my way to help her out… but I won’t be bummed if I don’t have to do it.

It’s kind of funny how these things work, I guess.  When I started this process my thinking was that I felt like I didn’t get enough information from the CPR and First Aid classes I have taken and that I’d like to know more.  I considered the idea of a career change but didn’t really think it a very likely possibility.  Later I thought of it as something that I might like to do, but I didn’t know how likely it was to happen, feeling that there were a number of things to hold me back.  Just in the last week or so, though, my thinking has changed.  I don’t know when it happened or what it means, but my thought process has been more along the lines of, “After this class is over, I’m going to become an EMT and I’ll just have to find ways around the road blocks.”

I know I can.

And I will.

This $#!+ is fi-in’ to get real, yo!

Table for Eight; Party of One

~ riggledo ~ 2 Comments

Saturday evening, I was invited to a dinner party at a friend’s house.  The friend is someone I met on Twitter.  I don’t even remember how, but that’s no surprise, because I can’t remember becoming friends with most of the people I’ve been friends with.  We were just strangers one minute and the next, as best I can remember, we were friends.  I tend not to remember or retain how it comes to be.  John is much the same.  I know I met him on Twitter, but who followed whom first, or how we became aware of each other, or how we went from being strangers who stalk follow each other on Twitter to two people who actually cared about what the other had to say, I do not recall.

Several months ago, John mentioned having me over to his house sometime, but it just never really came together.  Meanwhile, his company moved their offices from San Francisco to Downtown Oakland, just a few blocks from my office, and when we realized we were going to be in close proximity to each other we determined to meet for coffee.  Now I no longer consider John to be “this guy I follow on Twitter” but he is my friend.

A few weeks ago, John told me that he and his husband were having a dinner party on July 10th and that they would love to have me come over.  I was thrilled because I don’t spend a lot of time socializing and I really wanted to meet John’s dogs (and his husband – but mostly his dogs.)  🙂

When I first arrived at John’s house, a very boisterous black cat, sitting on top of a fence started talking to me and making his way to the ground and toward me.  “Hi!” I said to the kitty, “Are you the early warning system?”  I knew that John had two cats but I only knew what one of them looked like (’cause he looked like Mischa) so I thought maybe this was the other cat; it was not.  The cat walked right up to me,  I reached down and let it sniff at the back of my hand.  He took one whiff of my hand and ran away.  I guess he didn’t like smelling other kitties on me.

Walking into the house I was introduced to the rest of the guests and told “These are all of our dearest friends.”  I was very honored to be included in that gathering.  One of the couples hosted the hosts’ wedding, one of the other guests officiated over the ceremony and the other two were long time friends.  The company was great and I did my best to hold my own in conversation.

The food was fantastic!  John’s husband whose name also happens to be John is a wonderful cook and grill meister! We had kabobs and veggies, artichokes and for desert there was a delicious cake with berries.  They had the biggest bottle of Champagne I had ever seen and I resisted temptation for a while opting to drink only water instead, but eventually I caved in and had a glass of bubbly shortly before we sat down at the beautifully laid out table.  I saw Second John pull a bottle of Zinfandel from their wine cabinet and put it on the table.  Zinfandel, happens to be one of my favorite wines and I couldn’t resist having a small glass.  It was delightful.

The conversation over dinner was wonderful and I learned a lot about the history of this group I had been invited to be a part of, for the evening, and I was having a wonderful time.

Unfortunately, I do not know how many times my wine glass was refilled, I only know it was too many.  The next day, I knew I had overdone it and learned a valuable lesson.  But all in all, I had wonderful time.

Sunday, in addition to nursing my spinning head, I spent entirely too much time second guessing the previous evening.  There was somewhat of an age difference between me and the rest of the group which is relevant only in that they were all established and seemed to be secure in their lives.  All but one of the attendees were partnered up, and I don’t know if the one remaining person was single or if her significant other just wasn’t in attendance.  By the hazy light of the day Sunday, I worried that I had not fit in as well as I first thought.  I felt a little as though I’d been wearing my father’s clothes and sitting at the grown-ups table when really I belonged in overalls and sitting with the rest of the kids.  This is my own insecurity and in no way the result of how I was treated.  I even know that it’s probably inaccurate, but I couldn’t shake the sense.

Michelle once told me that women will sometimes leave something of theirs behind at a guy’s house so that they will have to be invited back.  Well, I swear I didn’t do it intentionally, but Sunday evening I got a direct message on Twitter from John letting me know that he had found my sunglasses.  Apparently, I left something behind, and now I have to be invited back…

At Least it’s Not A Cocktail

~ riggledo ~ 3 Comments

I’ve gotta write this quickly, ’cause in a minute I’m probably going to be sick!

After a much too short, glorious week last week, with my manager and the department secretary both off on vacation – presumably not together – they both returned to the office today and I’ve had a really shitty day.  I’m not particularly blaming it on the department secretary.  She hasn’t done anything wrong in particular.  Mostly it’s just the vibe in the office when everyone is present and accounted for.  The real problem though is my boss.

I’ve made no secret in the past about how he and I don’t really get along.  We don’t see eye to eye on much of anything and he talks down to me like I’m some sort of village idiot, when in reality, it is he who comes across like an idiot because he’s usually speaking a different language – figuratively – than the rest of us.  No matter what I say, he tells me I’m wrong.  He will literally sit there and agree with me and then tell me I’m wrong as if my being wrong is a for-gone conclusion, some sort of default position for him.

I can’t go into a whole lot of detail here, but there is something coming any day now, that is going to be a bad situation.  A year and a half ago, at about 1:30 in the morning, New Year’s Day, a Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) Police Officer shot a man in the back on a station platform, surrounded by witnesses.  The cop was white and the “victim” was black and the neighborhood where the shooting took place was very ethnic.  Several witnesses took cell phone video footage of the incident and the video plainly shows that the “victim” and his cohorts were being disruptive and resisting arrest.  The Police man and his partner were trying to subdue the rabble rousers and the officer claims that he was reaching for his taser when he inadvertently pulled his service revolver instead.  He shot the man at close range before he knew what had happened.

I am by no means suggesting this is not tragic and I suspect some sort of punitive action is required, however, I find it unlikely that it was the officer’s intent to murder the man, in cold blood, in a crowded area full of attentive witnesses.  I’m certain it was a mistake, a terrible, horrible mistake.

People being how they are, however, the hours that followed the funeral of the man in question turned into a chaotic, free-for-all riot, with looting and cars set on fire and the whole shebang.  At the time, my company, as well as several others in the affected area made the decision to close the offices and send everyone home for their safety.

The officer in question has been put on trial for murder and that trial is winding down this week.  I have personally been told by both an Oakland Fire Department Battalion Chief and an Oakland Police Department Officer that regardless of the verdict, they expect wide spread civil unrest (read: rioting and destruction).  If the officer is found guilty of murder many people will riot in “celebration” and others in protest and if the officer is found not-guilty, well, the same thing will happen, only the parties will be reversed.

It is expected that the verdict will come this week; possibly as early as Wednesday, and in typical fashion, my employer is late to the party in planning a response.  I had a conversation with my boss today about what we were going to do and he couldn’t give me a definitive, clear-cut answer.

This is serious business we’re talking about here folks.  Very limited forewarning, the day of, and the possibility of having to “defend in place” meaning the building may have to go into Lock-Down and not allow anyone in or out of the building until the crisis passes.  As is par for the course, my boss couldn’t answer any questions about how we were going to handle things.  He couldn’t acknowledge that we aren’t prepared and that the powers that be aren’t handling things appropriately.  He just kept tossing out his usual, patented answers, “We’re just going to have to figure out a way to make it work” and “We just have to do it.”

He was pissing me off and it was apparent.  When he comes to me with some cock and bull request to paint a space in a way that doesn’t comply with our standards and I remind him of this, he tells me, “It’s for ‘senior leadership’ we just have to do it.”  I don’t like it, but I go along with it because the boss said do it  and at the end of the day, it’s not that critical.  When he made me create a financial document that wasn’t completely legitimate, I did it because he intimidated me into it and because I knew that the supporting documentation for it existed somewhere, if not in my possession.

But we’re not talking about questionable ethics of subverting policies here.  We’re talking about the safety and well-being of 2000 people under our care.  We’re talking about the safety and well-being of ourselves!  I want answers.  I want some assurances that when I come to work on Wednesday, and Thursday and Friday – when I agree to put myself in harm’s way and be one of the last ones out of the building (assuming I can get out of the building) while making sure that all my “constituents” are getting to safety – I want to KNOW that my company has done everything in its power to make sure I’m safe and provided for.  And while I was trying to make this point abundantly clear to my boss, he sat there the exact same way he always does, not listening, telling me I’m wrong, and not addressing my concerns one iota.

It was a long, shitty day and by 4:00, I was ready for some shameful, emotional eating.  So I went to Starbucks for one of these:

While I worked on that, I walked across the street to CVS to look for some Shout Stain Removal Wipes to deal with the coffee I spilled on my shirt before I left.  Naturally, they didn’t have any.  That bummed me out more.  And then I saw these:

And then I saw these:

And I couldn’t make up my mind so I bought them both and have been munching ever since.

BUT!  At least it’s not a cocktail!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go.  I think I’m gonna be sick!

Irony, It’s Where It’s At

~ riggledo ~ 3 Comments

I used to hardly ever talk to my mother.  Not because I don’t love her, or she me, just because I don’t like being on the telephone, and e-mail seems like it’s pointless unless you’ve got something specific to say and then it feels like it needs to be lengthy enough to justify the effort on the part of both parties.  My aversion to talking on the telephone came from her, for two reasons.  First, she always made it clear that she had no use for protracted phone conversations.  Make the call, say what you have to say, and get off the phone.  That was her philosophy.  It was never acceptable to call someone “just to say hi” or “just to talk.”  Secondly, when I did get on the phone with friends, she would always tell me to get off the phone after about 20 minutes or so, even though I was in another room where my talking wouldn’t disturb her and even though the only people who ever called were my friends, or bill collectors so she never answered the phone anyway.  Nevertheless, through these experiences, she taught me to prefer not to be on the telephone for long periods of time.

A couple of months ago, I got a text message from my mother:

“Do you text?  Just wondered.  going to bed now. ‘Night!”

I confirmed that I do and that was the end of the conversation, that night.  Since then, however, we’ve exchanged text messages and had full conversations via text  every few days.

This morning I received a text from her while I was getting ready for work and we proceeded to have a conversation on text until I got to work when we moved to Instant Messenger.  She informed me that she had gotten a new cell phone with a QWERTY keyboard.  She said, “I wanted something with a keyboard so I could text without having to hit the keys several times to get the letter I wanted.”

I answered, “Based on the speed and length of your texts, I had a feeling you had a keyboard now.”

“Yep.  The [Boss’s family] are big on texting, so I needed it to keep up!”

“I am too,” I answered, “then I don’t have to ‘talk’ to people.  How sad is that?”

She answered, “Pretty sad, by my lights.  But it’s the way of things nowadays.”

Hmmm.  Interesting perspective for her to have.  I continued, “I text Michelle a lot, because if I want to make a quick comment about something, it could turn into a 45 minute conversation and I have a thing against doing other things while I’m on the phone so it blows my whole evening.  (I know that’s terrible.)”  I was making light of things here, I don’t really think it’s that bad.  It get’s said what needs to be said without derailing my plan for the day/evening.  And when we get together and I can focus my attention on her and our interaction we talk plenty.

“It’s just one more way in which nuance and empathy and other such non-quantifiables are being eliminated from people’s relationships these days.  I just think it’s sad.”

“Yeah, but it’s quick.   :-D”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of this situation.  Here we are, having conversation by means of electronic written technology and she’s telling me that it’s sad that people don’t spend more time on the phone even though she hates being on the phone as much as I do.

Sometimes, her inability to recognize the irony in her words, and yes, even her hypocrisy, just makes me laugh.

This is NOT a Pitty Party

~ riggledo ~ 3 Comments

Saturday was my laundry day and after sleeping late but well, I headed over to Michelle’s house a little after noon.  We were both starving as neither of us had eaten anything so I tricked Michelle into offered to buying lunch at Applebee’s.   Afterward, we did a small amount of grocery shopping and picked up a take and bake pizza for dinner and headed back to her apartment.  Michelle’s sister had asked her to make some Macaroni and Cheese, so I hung out in the kitchen with her while she made it.

I’m not sure how we got there, but conversation turned to the subject of winning the lottery and I pointed out that Michelle had a scratcher sitting on the table that won two whole dollars.  She said she needed to cash it in and I pointed out that it expires 180 days after the game ends (I have no idea when that is/was.)  Then we discussed winning the multi-million dollar jackpot.

I told her, “Yeah, you need to hurry up and get on that so we can get married and I can quit my job.”

“Oh please,” she said, “You just want to ogle the pool boy.”

“Yeah, well, pretty much all I do is ogle anyway, so big deal.”

“For now,” she answered.  “Sooner or later, you’ll… join the work force.”

Now I have no idea what “join the work force” even means, but I don’t think I like it.  The truth of the matter is, I think I’ll be alone for the rest of my life.  I know right this second all one of you who still reads this blog is saying that it’s not true, that I’ll meet somebody, that I’m worthy, or that I deserve it or some other hoo haw like that.  And you may be right, you may not be.  I’m not writing this so that people can feel sorry for me, or try to bolster my confidence or whatever.  (Honestly, I’m having second thoughts about writing this even now, but whatever.)

She asked me, “Don’t you want to have a relationship?  Don’t you want to get married?”

I responded with “Do you?”  Michelle is six years older than I.  I’ve known her for 12 years and she hasn’t had a single date in that time, or long before that from my understanding.  I don’t know why.  I think she’s perfectly entitled to be loved and to have a relationship, but she doesn’t make herself available for it and for whatever reason people don’t ask her out.  Her answer was that she does want to have a relationship and to get married.  She said she believes she will.  I don’t see how.  I’m not being mean when I say that, I’m just stating fact.  If she’s not available, she’s not going to have a relationship and she’s not going to get married and at this point, she’s not available.  Not that I know what she needs to do to make herself available.

But see I can see this, because I’m the same.  The difference is, I don’t believe that by some miracle I’m going to meet the man of my dreams and fall in love by accident.  I know that I’m going to spend the rest of my life alone and while I may not be happy about it, there is some solace in knowing what to expect in that regard.

When I was in Tulsa last year, caring for my mother after her bypass surgery, we had a conversation one day in the car (sorry if this is something I’ve already written, but it’s topical.)  She said something about how she was disappointed that I was determined not to get married.  (Of course she couldn’t appreciate the irony of that.)  I corrected her, saying I never said I was determined not to get married.  I have said that I don’t plan on having children.  I also told her that marriage didn’t seem likely to happen, however.  And then I asked her, “What about you?  You’ve never dated since you divorced Dad.  Do you plan on getting married again?”  Her response was, “Who would have me?”  I can relate.

I turned 35 years old last week.  My life is officially half over, or at least I hope it is.  The truth is, three out of four of my grandparents lived well into their 80s and 90s.  The fourth one was killed in a plane crash when he was 39, but who knows how long he might have made it otherwise.  So while there’s reason to believe I’ll live to be older than 70, I’ve also seen lots of evidence of how unpleasant life gets when you’re that old.  I’d much rather live the best life I can manage in the remaining years of my “youth” and die young, than live to a “ripe old age” filled with pain and sickness and medical bills and struggles.

So yes, I hope my life is half over.  But that being said, there’s a lot I didn’t get to experience in that first half of my life.  There’s a lot I didn’t learn, and I’m too old to learn those things now.  I’m not talking about academics, though some days I feel that way about academics as well.  I’m talking about life lessons and experiences.  How to approach things in life and how to feel about them, how to view them.  Some of it is just too hard to do now.  Some of it is just too scary.  The deck is stacked against me.