I'm not on the board. I did keep the newsletter, and I will be doing more in the fundraising department, and the Howler insisted that I fill out the paper and volunteer to do the Homeroom Parent gig. Dunno yet about the HR parent gig, but regardless, they haven't gotten rid of me yet (and I don't think they've figured out that they really, no really, should want to.)
Anyway, UberDad, who went batshit crazy last spring, has up and quit everything. He's not involved AT ALL, and won't even come to a meeting. Why? Because he want batshit crazy, and instead of just pretending it didn't happen--as most people in polite society will do in a situation like this--he's decided to hide out, and pretend he didn't know any of us at all.
I believe it was totally Freudian when he slipped and said, "You play this role, and I'll play this role, and we can fuck." He was, indeed, looking for a fuck, but he was most definitely asking the wrong question of the wrong person (and seriously, this is a line that works for him? Seriously? If you knew the details, you'd be shocked.)
I mean, yes, he basically fucked himself, but I don't think that was quite the ride he was looking for either.
Showing posts with label pta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pta. Show all posts
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Monday, November 02, 2009
Life, in a Vacuum, Sucks
For the record, it sucks. Truly, Deeply Sucks.
So, with Saturday being Halloween, our town's Trick or Treat hours were on Saturday 5-7. Saturday was exhausting to think about: soccer game; end of season party immediately following; birthday party for a school friend; trick or treat. During T-0-T I also had to ensure that my Howler hit the neighborhood, AND made it across town (in two directions) visiting the older generation of demanding women. A plan was hatched...then rehatched.
It actually worked.
Until we got home afterwards.
She's still got the heeby-jeeby head lice. It'sbeen a migraine kind of week (with the call Monday at 3pm) and the daily hair picking (wich equals the daily hours long whinge and bitch session--HER, not me. Mine is all 100% reactionary.)
I'm trying to have a good sense of humor about this--honest, I am. But Tuesday, when she came home with 3 frisky adults AFTER I spent just over 2 hours on her head the night before (while my Sweetie spent and equal amount of time on her room and the house)
To discover on Saturday night that the 10+ hours I've already devoted to this was, effectively, useless, on top of discovering during the T-o-T route that the one aunt who gave my brother & sister in law such a hard time about THEIR dance with the lice last fall/winter (and that they were the ones that sold me down the river) had learned it.
The woman called me as soon as T-o-T was over and demanded to know if had gotten the shampoo.
What shampoo?
Did you go to the drug store and get the shampoo?
What shampoo?
To treat her head with!!!!!!!!
YES, I DID!
Don't yell at me.
To say I am hurt and angry--I mean, I know I'm lazy, and I'm not any kind of housekeeper, but to think that I would let my daughter (anyone in my house, really) have these bugs on their heads and NOT have gotten the stuff from the drugstore and treated heads ALREADY is very very insulting. The fact that she then told me to "not yell at her" when she was being this absolutely assinine-rude-insulting was too much.
The Howler was supposed to spend time at her house this week, especially over the weekend, as my Sweetie and I are going to church convention. My mom was stepped up, but it's still pissing me off--my cousin's two kids who also go to this school will end up with these thing, and the old woman is going to blame MINE, even though the Howler hasn't been near them in 3 weeks or longer.
When my Sweetie was talking to her yesterday, he said something about making sure their heads are getting checked--and I snappped. Nice and loud, and nasty, I said, "If they have 'em, she better remember they're in the school, and NOT around MY DAUGHTER."
My Sweetie is worried that I'll hold a grudge but this is different. This is just your usual, run-of-the-mill selling out by family members. I should have expected it--it's not like my brother doesn't accuse me of "telling" on him. (Once he accused me of telling a person I don't even KNOW, two days before he actually told ME anything.)
*eyeroll*
At this point, my family may actually be worse than the lice--at least with the lice, I know they don't really have any choice in being lousy.
So, with Saturday being Halloween, our town's Trick or Treat hours were on Saturday 5-7. Saturday was exhausting to think about: soccer game; end of season party immediately following; birthday party for a school friend; trick or treat. During T-0-T I also had to ensure that my Howler hit the neighborhood, AND made it across town (in two directions) visiting the older generation of demanding women. A plan was hatched...then rehatched.
It actually worked.
Until we got home afterwards.
She's still got the heeby-jeeby head lice. It'sbeen a migraine kind of week (with the call Monday at 3pm) and the daily hair picking (wich equals the daily hours long whinge and bitch session--HER, not me. Mine is all 100% reactionary.)
I'm trying to have a good sense of humor about this--honest, I am. But Tuesday, when she came home with 3 frisky adults AFTER I spent just over 2 hours on her head the night before (while my Sweetie spent and equal amount of time on her room and the house)
To discover on Saturday night that the 10+ hours I've already devoted to this was, effectively, useless, on top of discovering during the T-o-T route that the one aunt who gave my brother & sister in law such a hard time about THEIR dance with the lice last fall/winter (and that they were the ones that sold me down the river) had learned it.
The woman called me as soon as T-o-T was over and demanded to know if had gotten the shampoo.
What shampoo?
Did you go to the drug store and get the shampoo?
What shampoo?
To treat her head with!!!!!!!!
YES, I DID!
Don't yell at me.
To say I am hurt and angry--I mean, I know I'm lazy, and I'm not any kind of housekeeper, but to think that I would let my daughter (anyone in my house, really) have these bugs on their heads and NOT have gotten the stuff from the drugstore and treated heads ALREADY is very very insulting. The fact that she then told me to "not yell at her" when she was being this absolutely assinine-rude-insulting was too much.
The Howler was supposed to spend time at her house this week, especially over the weekend, as my Sweetie and I are going to church convention. My mom was stepped up, but it's still pissing me off--my cousin's two kids who also go to this school will end up with these thing, and the old woman is going to blame MINE, even though the Howler hasn't been near them in 3 weeks or longer.
When my Sweetie was talking to her yesterday, he said something about making sure their heads are getting checked--and I snappped. Nice and loud, and nasty, I said, "If they have 'em, she better remember they're in the school, and NOT around MY DAUGHTER."
My Sweetie is worried that I'll hold a grudge but this is different. This is just your usual, run-of-the-mill selling out by family members. I should have expected it--it's not like my brother doesn't accuse me of "telling" on him. (Once he accused me of telling a person I don't even KNOW, two days before he actually told ME anything.)
*eyeroll*
At this point, my family may actually be worse than the lice--at least with the lice, I know they don't really have any choice in being lousy.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Curiouser and Curiouser
Okay. The Dad is going a bit nuts here.
I mentioned to him yesterday (we both ended up at the school making copies of PTA stuff & nonsense) that my neighbor is NOT my buddy. And that, since she believes him to be one of her great-known-him-for-years friends (HAH!) he is going to be who she goes to.
I also learned that everyone else finds it odd that she hangs and hangs and hangs around after the meetings. We're trying to get stuff finished up--who's doing what, etc--and there she is. Now, if we had some things to discuss that would be for the general membership, we'd have brought it up during the meeting, duh. Not that we're trying to be exclusive, but, as you know, with any group, there's behind the scenes planning and deciding that gets done, and unless you're on the board, you should not a) hear about it until & unless it's discussed at a meeting and b) expect to have everyone holding yer hand and begging you to stick around.
As I've said, I'm sure I've done just this sort of thing (without the huge-mongous boobs and pierced tongue) before, but, seriously. I think if she could learn when/if we have executive board meetings, she'd show up for them, too.
I'd like to think that part of it is that she sees me as this mover-and-shaker friendly person, and I have been working on not totally putting off the "I hate people on general principal" vibe, but c'mon! Pay attention and back up!
I told The Dad that HE could discuss her makeup choices with her. And she could glom onto HIM. He said he barely knows her--she worked at the smoke shop over a year ago, and that's where she knows him from.
For the record, I have some customers whom I am on a first name basis with--after NINE years. And I may see them when I'm not at work, but it's a "hi. haven't seen ya in a while" kind of thing--not a friend thing. We don't send Christmas cards, and we don't hang out. I may tell people "I know him/her" but I'm not going to say, "Oh, yeah, I've known him for years and we're friends."
It's just weird--or is it a woman thing that I seem to have missed catching?
I mentioned to him yesterday (we both ended up at the school making copies of PTA stuff & nonsense) that my neighbor is NOT my buddy. And that, since she believes him to be one of her great-known-him-for-years friends (HAH!) he is going to be who she goes to.
I also learned that everyone else finds it odd that she hangs and hangs and hangs around after the meetings. We're trying to get stuff finished up--who's doing what, etc--and there she is. Now, if we had some things to discuss that would be for the general membership, we'd have brought it up during the meeting, duh. Not that we're trying to be exclusive, but, as you know, with any group, there's behind the scenes planning and deciding that gets done, and unless you're on the board, you should not a) hear about it until & unless it's discussed at a meeting and b) expect to have everyone holding yer hand and begging you to stick around.
As I've said, I'm sure I've done just this sort of thing (without the huge-mongous boobs and pierced tongue) before, but, seriously. I think if she could learn when/if we have executive board meetings, she'd show up for them, too.
I'd like to think that part of it is that she sees me as this mover-and-shaker friendly person, and I have been working on not totally putting off the "I hate people on general principal" vibe, but c'mon! Pay attention and back up!
I told The Dad that HE could discuss her makeup choices with her. And she could glom onto HIM. He said he barely knows her--she worked at the smoke shop over a year ago, and that's where she knows him from.
For the record, I have some customers whom I am on a first name basis with--after NINE years. And I may see them when I'm not at work, but it's a "hi. haven't seen ya in a while" kind of thing--not a friend thing. We don't send Christmas cards, and we don't hang out. I may tell people "I know him/her" but I'm not going to say, "Oh, yeah, I've known him for years and we're friends."
It's just weird--or is it a woman thing that I seem to have missed catching?
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Rant On
Yes, there's more about my neighbor-new best friend.
These are timeless questions, I'm asking here.
First, I'm still looking for the answer to "Is there a polite way to tell someone to crawl out of your ass?"
Second, what kind of insanity inspires a woman to talk about her failed make up choices to a woman who so obviously doesn't wear so much as eyeliner?
Yeah. I don't wear make up (okay, maybe 2x a year I do, but every day? I don't have that kind of time or energy) and yet, during the Fall Festival, whenever she was able to attach herself to me, she would talk about Avon's newest, or Cover Girl's something or other.
I kept saying, "I don't wear make up, so I wouldn't know." and that's when she switched from Avon to Cover Girl. Even telling her that the extent of my cosmetic expertise begins and ends with my choices for Revlon hair color and Clairol Nice 'n Easy hair color didn't deter her.
What possesses someone to do that? I mean, if you've tried ONE brand as the topic of conversation, and the ass you're trying to crawl up doesn't respond at all, why would you stick to that topic, but start blathering about a different brand?
It's a form of insanity, isn't it?
These are timeless questions, I'm asking here.
First, I'm still looking for the answer to "Is there a polite way to tell someone to crawl out of your ass?"
Second, what kind of insanity inspires a woman to talk about her failed make up choices to a woman who so obviously doesn't wear so much as eyeliner?
Yeah. I don't wear make up (okay, maybe 2x a year I do, but every day? I don't have that kind of time or energy) and yet, during the Fall Festival, whenever she was able to attach herself to me, she would talk about Avon's newest, or Cover Girl's something or other.
I kept saying, "I don't wear make up, so I wouldn't know." and that's when she switched from Avon to Cover Girl. Even telling her that the extent of my cosmetic expertise begins and ends with my choices for Revlon hair color and Clairol Nice 'n Easy hair color didn't deter her.
What possesses someone to do that? I mean, if you've tried ONE brand as the topic of conversation, and the ass you're trying to crawl up doesn't respond at all, why would you stick to that topic, but start blathering about a different brand?
It's a form of insanity, isn't it?
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Back Up
On Rant:
So, in my neighborhood, as we all know, there are some interesting people. I use the word interesting in the loosest possible way.
The one family--the one with Dolly and Urchin--are baaaa-aack. And I'm her bestest best friend EVER. Whether I want to be or not.
Bleah.
Let me explain. Late last winter, she & Urchin moved back. Yippee. Dolly & Urchin spent Memorial Day weekend raiding my cupboards & fridge. Then they spent June & July rooting through our non-edible stuff. No matter what kind of snit I pitched, the next time they were up, it was like a free-for-all, and no matter what I banned them from before, they were onto bigger and better things later.
I also didn't like the group trips to the bathroom--that's a sure-fire way to have children where children don't belong. Meaning, "In MY Stuff."
Anyway, both the Grocery Gobblers (or G-Squared as my Sweetie has been calling them) are in the Howler's school this year. And, Dolly is in her class. Great. Like I need this stress.
The Incident of August had already prompted us to put an end to the free-for-all time the Howler spent with these girls. (In a nutshell, mine took a dare--a dare that was waaaay inappropriate for this age group to have made; of course, mine had consequences for taking a dare such as this, even though I understand fully that at 7 years old, NOT taking a dare is like NOT breathing.)
The Howler was happy to be in Dolly's class, but I've noticed, whether because of my edict or because the Howler has other fish to fry, they don't hang out much at school. Alleluia!
With school starting, this Mom of the Year has decided to be more involved--in the girls' lives, and their school. Great. I've urged and urged her to concentrate on her own daughter's class (4th grade) and so far, it's not working.
She's up my ass like ugly on an ape. I can't get rid of her at PTA meetings or at parties and things at school.
I'm sorry, but at the meetings, particularly AFTER the meetings, I have other people I want or need to talk to, and in all honesty, some of what may need to be discussed are NOT things for just any-ol'-body to hear. With privacy issues being a hotbed of pissiness, I do not need an extra appendage with size Double D hooters hanging on to me.
And, then, two days later, at the Fall Festival, I got there early as the 2nd in command for our room, and there she was. Up my ass. Again. I couldn't hardly get away from her. I actually took my camera, and handed her the PTA's camera, and told her to take the camera, and take whatever pics she could get of whatever classes she could. (We, the PTA board, are trying to get plenty pics taken throughout the year for the yearbook.) I deliberately ditched her and headed the opposite direction.
As soon as she saw me again, she glommed onto me and wouldn't let go again. If I moved across the room to see what the kids were doing, she was there. Her "own" child was opposite in the room of mine, and yet, there she was, attached to me.
There's no polite way to tell someone to get out of your ass, is there? I've tried to find one. It doesn't exist. I'm afraid I may need to contact the homeroom parent of her actual daughter's class and BEG her to keep this woman busy--and an entire floor away from me.
Either that, or I can only hope that she gets bored well before the end of the year, because somehow, I think that telling her to "back the f&k up, and get out of my ass" isn't going to go over well.
So, in my neighborhood, as we all know, there are some interesting people. I use the word interesting in the loosest possible way.
The one family--the one with Dolly and Urchin--are baaaa-aack. And I'm her bestest best friend EVER. Whether I want to be or not.
Bleah.
Let me explain. Late last winter, she & Urchin moved back. Yippee. Dolly & Urchin spent Memorial Day weekend raiding my cupboards & fridge. Then they spent June & July rooting through our non-edible stuff. No matter what kind of snit I pitched, the next time they were up, it was like a free-for-all, and no matter what I banned them from before, they were onto bigger and better things later.
I also didn't like the group trips to the bathroom--that's a sure-fire way to have children where children don't belong. Meaning, "In MY Stuff."
Anyway, both the Grocery Gobblers (or G-Squared as my Sweetie has been calling them) are in the Howler's school this year. And, Dolly is in her class. Great. Like I need this stress.
The Incident of August had already prompted us to put an end to the free-for-all time the Howler spent with these girls. (In a nutshell, mine took a dare--a dare that was waaaay inappropriate for this age group to have made; of course, mine had consequences for taking a dare such as this, even though I understand fully that at 7 years old, NOT taking a dare is like NOT breathing.)
The Howler was happy to be in Dolly's class, but I've noticed, whether because of my edict or because the Howler has other fish to fry, they don't hang out much at school. Alleluia!
With school starting, this Mom of the Year has decided to be more involved--in the girls' lives, and their school. Great. I've urged and urged her to concentrate on her own daughter's class (4th grade) and so far, it's not working.
She's up my ass like ugly on an ape. I can't get rid of her at PTA meetings or at parties and things at school.
I'm sorry, but at the meetings, particularly AFTER the meetings, I have other people I want or need to talk to, and in all honesty, some of what may need to be discussed are NOT things for just any-ol'-body to hear. With privacy issues being a hotbed of pissiness, I do not need an extra appendage with size Double D hooters hanging on to me.
And, then, two days later, at the Fall Festival, I got there early as the 2nd in command for our room, and there she was. Up my ass. Again. I couldn't hardly get away from her. I actually took my camera, and handed her the PTA's camera, and told her to take the camera, and take whatever pics she could get of whatever classes she could. (We, the PTA board, are trying to get plenty pics taken throughout the year for the yearbook.) I deliberately ditched her and headed the opposite direction.
As soon as she saw me again, she glommed onto me and wouldn't let go again. If I moved across the room to see what the kids were doing, she was there. Her "own" child was opposite in the room of mine, and yet, there she was, attached to me.
There's no polite way to tell someone to get out of your ass, is there? I've tried to find one. It doesn't exist. I'm afraid I may need to contact the homeroom parent of her actual daughter's class and BEG her to keep this woman busy--and an entire floor away from me.
Either that, or I can only hope that she gets bored well before the end of the year, because somehow, I think that telling her to "back the f&k up, and get out of my ass" isn't going to go over well.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
It's a Time Suck
As if I have the energy for this sort of thing:
The PTA is a time suck. I feel like I spend my life making lists of all the crap I have to get done in a day. At least 1/2 of it involves the PTA. Time Suck doesn't begin to cover it. Seriously.
The computer dying didn't help. I had templates done and stuff that would be reused (lists and such) every month. That would avoid the Time Suck and let me concentrate on the parts that needed done as new every month. Getting a new 'puter and changing the program I was using involved learning the new program, as well as retyping everything.
Not helping the Time Suck.
Add to it how freaking exhausted I am all the time, and the various events and activities we've got going on...the Howler's two activities a week (soccer and AWANAS) are a Time Suck themselves. Not that I'm complaining, mind you.
Anyway, I still have all this stuff to do, and what am I worried about? Posting on the ol' blogs. Why? Because then all 2 of my faithful readers will know that I did not, contrary to what I had hoped for, crawl under a rock to die.
I'm still alive, barely kickin', and now, I'm typing a whinging post.
But, hey, at least I'm not complaining about work.
The PTA is a time suck. I feel like I spend my life making lists of all the crap I have to get done in a day. At least 1/2 of it involves the PTA. Time Suck doesn't begin to cover it. Seriously.
The computer dying didn't help. I had templates done and stuff that would be reused (lists and such) every month. That would avoid the Time Suck and let me concentrate on the parts that needed done as new every month. Getting a new 'puter and changing the program I was using involved learning the new program, as well as retyping everything.
Not helping the Time Suck.
Add to it how freaking exhausted I am all the time, and the various events and activities we've got going on...the Howler's two activities a week (soccer and AWANAS) are a Time Suck themselves. Not that I'm complaining, mind you.
Anyway, I still have all this stuff to do, and what am I worried about? Posting on the ol' blogs. Why? Because then all 2 of my faithful readers will know that I did not, contrary to what I had hoped for, crawl under a rock to die.
I'm still alive, barely kickin', and now, I'm typing a whinging post.
But, hey, at least I'm not complaining about work.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore"
My dicking off time has become seriously limited.
Worse, even My Sweetie has to admit that.
With the school year starting, that means that my unwilling ass has begun the long slow decline into PTA hell. I think "Broad is the road that leads to destruction...blah blah blah" comes to mind when thinking about it.
I am now required to be all that People Person crap so despise. Hell, when I started complaining about it, I was really just making an observation about my newly discovered Inviso super power. I didn't mean to be actually NOTICED (nobody has ever truly listened to me rant and rave like that before, let alone TAKEN IT SERIOUSLY.) It is, I suppose, my come-uppance for being what my mother calls "mouthy."
Anyway, between work (yes, I still have a paying job,) being Mrs Mumple, and being the Howler's mother (why does MOM have to be the one who schedules and organizes I wonder? In all the non-gender specific roles the Mr and I share and swap, how did I end up on the MOMMY track? Oh, yeah. I get to work outside-the-home PART TIME, that's why. Dammit!) PTA and church, plus life in general, I have no more dicking off time. No more spider solitaire, no more reading a thick book in a day...It's depressing, is what.
The PTA is a time suck. Even more than the Howler is a time suck. Even more than the Howler and paid-to-be-in-retail-hell time suck put together.
I am currently typing this whilst peering over a teetering tower of PTA and church related paper. I need an entire room, with large tables for spreading out, a massive paper shredder, two or three filing cabinets, and several three-ring binders and various color co ordinated folders for organizing it all.
And I still have to make dinner.
Worse, even My Sweetie has to admit that.
With the school year starting, that means that my unwilling ass has begun the long slow decline into PTA hell. I think "Broad is the road that leads to destruction...blah blah blah" comes to mind when thinking about it.
I am now required to be all that People Person crap so despise. Hell, when I started complaining about it, I was really just making an observation about my newly discovered Inviso super power. I didn't mean to be actually NOTICED (nobody has ever truly listened to me rant and rave like that before, let alone TAKEN IT SERIOUSLY.) It is, I suppose, my come-uppance for being what my mother calls "mouthy."
Anyway, between work (yes, I still have a paying job,) being Mrs Mumple, and being the Howler's mother (why does MOM have to be the one who schedules and organizes I wonder? In all the non-gender specific roles the Mr and I share and swap, how did I end up on the MOMMY track? Oh, yeah. I get to work outside-the-home PART TIME, that's why. Dammit!) PTA and church, plus life in general, I have no more dicking off time. No more spider solitaire, no more reading a thick book in a day...It's depressing, is what.
The PTA is a time suck. Even more than the Howler is a time suck. Even more than the Howler and paid-to-be-in-retail-hell time suck put together.
I am currently typing this whilst peering over a teetering tower of PTA and church related paper. I need an entire room, with large tables for spreading out, a massive paper shredder, two or three filing cabinets, and several three-ring binders and various color co ordinated folders for organizing it all.
And I still have to make dinner.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Warning!
For those who have been following the Saga of the Mumplized PTA, I've gotten a warning I must share:
There is an elementary teacher in CA who accidentally included 6 seconds of videotape showcasing her very personal, very adult love life in a video tape of "highlights" of the year for her students.
The warning is this: if, as a PTA, we're planning on having some video/powerpoint/slide show action at Open House, this is a VERY good time to be sure we're using brand spanking (hah!) new materials to make the visual aids.
And, in general, it's a good idea to CAREFULLY LABEL those personal adult moments and NEVER EVER re-use the tapes....burn 'em, but don't recycle 'em. In this one particular instance, I'm guessing that EVERYONE (especially the parents) will be glad that you're killing the environment, instead of killing their children's idolized image of you.
As a personal, adult side note: 6 seconds is not enough time to showcase the highlights of my current love life, not that I'm sharing My Sweetie with anybody--under any circumstances. *just sose ya knows.*
There is an elementary teacher in CA who accidentally included 6 seconds of videotape showcasing her very personal, very adult love life in a video tape of "highlights" of the year for her students.
The warning is this: if, as a PTA, we're planning on having some video/powerpoint/slide show action at Open House, this is a VERY good time to be sure we're using brand spanking (hah!) new materials to make the visual aids.
And, in general, it's a good idea to CAREFULLY LABEL those personal adult moments and NEVER EVER re-use the tapes....burn 'em, but don't recycle 'em. In this one particular instance, I'm guessing that EVERYONE (especially the parents) will be glad that you're killing the environment, instead of killing their children's idolized image of you.
As a personal, adult side note: 6 seconds is not enough time to showcase the highlights of my current love life, not that I'm sharing My Sweetie with anybody--under any circumstances. *just sose ya knows.*
Friday, June 05, 2009
Am I Really?
Okay, so this has been a year of learning stuff about myself.
I learned that I can control my attitude and my tongue. I learned that I began to grind my teeth. I learned again (like I do every year) that I am desperately and nauseatingly in love with my husband.
I also learned that I am a leader.
I spent loads of time trying to be a leader when I was younger. And I never could quite pull it off. It was pathetic in a way, the way I kept desperately trying so hard. Every election, prior to 2009, I entered, I lost (and in all honesty, not always with grace.)
This year, with no effort on my part (and not a little surprise) I was nominated and elected to the PTA Executive Board. I mean, I didn't put my own name in. I didn't ask anyone else to nominate me, and when asked if I was going to put my name in, I laughed a nervous little laugh, and said, "No. I like the cheap seats, thanks."
I had fully embraced my being an Indian, and had fully given up hopes of being a Chief. I am not Chief material, people. I don't do tact and diplomacy so well, and I have a tendancy to totally mess up and drop the ball on big important things.
I even went so far as to prove my unworthiness by offering (albeit while laughing and joking around) the other members of the PTA Smarties, asking that you "be sure to let me know when they start working." And I made fun of myself, and made moderately adult jokes about some of the Dads at school. I made it clear, I thought, that I don't necessarily play well with others, and I certainly have a ribald sense of humor--ribald, slightly vulgar, and certainly off center sense of humor.
None of that worked.
They nominated and elected me anyway.
I merely bowed to the inevitable, and am hoping that I can escape that fate with only a one year tenure.
I am alternately delighted with the opportunity for change and overwhelmed with the responsibility (not to mention the aforementioned lack of tact and diplomacy.)
What all this leads up to is that, I'm hearing more and more often that I am "a leader." First, it was at work, with a flat-out statement by the Head Cheese. Today, it was from the Howler's teacher.
How did this happen? Well, how the conversation turned to that, I can answer--how these people got this crazy idea about me, I have no clue.
As for the conversation: the magician was late in arriving at the school. Mrs N asked, not in a mean way, if it was from poor planning or what? So I gave her the Reader's Digest condensed version of the PTA Drama Trauma from February, March, and April. She asked who, then, is next year's President? I told her, and listed the executive board for her, rolling my eyes at my own name.
She said, "But that's good, right?" and I said, "Uh, no. I'm doing it because there's really no one else to do it."
And she said that it couldn't be true, "You're such a leader."
"You think? ~snort~" I replied.
"Well, sure you are. Mrs S (the principal) has commented more than once the good things you've been doing this year, and how successful they are. You're a leader whether or not you know it."
In thinking on this, it gives me the giggles--partly because I'm apparently doing a good job at whatever it is I'm doing, and partly because I'm just vain.
I learned that I can control my attitude and my tongue. I learned that I began to grind my teeth. I learned again (like I do every year) that I am desperately and nauseatingly in love with my husband.
I also learned that I am a leader.
I spent loads of time trying to be a leader when I was younger. And I never could quite pull it off. It was pathetic in a way, the way I kept desperately trying so hard. Every election, prior to 2009, I entered, I lost (and in all honesty, not always with grace.)
This year, with no effort on my part (and not a little surprise) I was nominated and elected to the PTA Executive Board. I mean, I didn't put my own name in. I didn't ask anyone else to nominate me, and when asked if I was going to put my name in, I laughed a nervous little laugh, and said, "No. I like the cheap seats, thanks."
I had fully embraced my being an Indian, and had fully given up hopes of being a Chief. I am not Chief material, people. I don't do tact and diplomacy so well, and I have a tendancy to totally mess up and drop the ball on big important things.
I even went so far as to prove my unworthiness by offering (albeit while laughing and joking around) the other members of the PTA Smarties, asking that you "be sure to let me know when they start working." And I made fun of myself, and made moderately adult jokes about some of the Dads at school. I made it clear, I thought, that I don't necessarily play well with others, and I certainly have a ribald sense of humor--ribald, slightly vulgar, and certainly off center sense of humor.
None of that worked.
They nominated and elected me anyway.
I merely bowed to the inevitable, and am hoping that I can escape that fate with only a one year tenure.
I am alternately delighted with the opportunity for change and overwhelmed with the responsibility (not to mention the aforementioned lack of tact and diplomacy.)
What all this leads up to is that, I'm hearing more and more often that I am "a leader." First, it was at work, with a flat-out statement by the Head Cheese. Today, it was from the Howler's teacher.
How did this happen? Well, how the conversation turned to that, I can answer--how these people got this crazy idea about me, I have no clue.
As for the conversation: the magician was late in arriving at the school. Mrs N asked, not in a mean way, if it was from poor planning or what? So I gave her the Reader's Digest condensed version of the PTA Drama Trauma from February, March, and April. She asked who, then, is next year's President? I told her, and listed the executive board for her, rolling my eyes at my own name.
She said, "But that's good, right?" and I said, "Uh, no. I'm doing it because there's really no one else to do it."
And she said that it couldn't be true, "You're such a leader."
"You think? ~snort~" I replied.
"Well, sure you are. Mrs S (the principal) has commented more than once the good things you've been doing this year, and how successful they are. You're a leader whether or not you know it."
In thinking on this, it gives me the giggles--partly because I'm apparently doing a good job at whatever it is I'm doing, and partly because I'm just vain.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Don't Make Eye Contact
I've learned why I didn't volunteer before.
It takes commitment AND it sucks into your screwing off time.
And right now, it's not screwing off time, it's resting so I can continue to function time (long story short: I was diagnosed about a bajillion years ago as having fibromyalgia. Never was as sick as the people you read about in magazines or who appear on Oprah, but was still sick enough to want to die, and it compounded the depression. Had a mild flare up shortly after the Howler was born, survived relatively intact, and guess what flared up again 3 weeks ago? Yeah. It's so great. The all over your body hit-by-a-bus pain that settled into the entire right side of my body, and still occasionally causes me to want to scream in excrucitating pain when touched...anyway, it's mostly in my right shoulder, elbow, wrist, and hand, and whatever you may think about it, it's skeletal AND muscular pain, and it hurts like hell. And pain makes you tired. VERY tired. But the hormonal insomnia doesn't let you fall asleep easily. Oh, it's so great. I get to be f-ing assed miserable and in pain, all while NOT lashing out like an injured animal caught in a trap. Joyous.)
Anyway, I made eye contact and got nailed for what has turned out to be a two week long affair with frustration and traffic. I was asked to contact local businesses for donations of bottled water for the school picnic.
I have spent a good deal of time in traffic because there's a truckload of road contruction going on in town, and there's a trainload of idiots out there on those roads.
Frustration comes in with one store in particular. You'd think that the busiest grocery store in town would have a more organized and better run customer service desk.
They "lost" the first letter I gave them. I gave them a second one. I got a call shortly after dropping off the second letter saying that they would have a $20 gift card for us. I made it back there today (again with the traffic.) After waiting for another 25 minutes (I waited about 20 to give them the second letter, and had waited at least 10 for the first) they had no idea what I was talking about. They asked if I remember who I gave the letter to on Wednesday (the second letter) and I pointed out the blonde who had walked past me at least 10 time as I stood there today. When asked, she said she had no idea what they were talking about.
I had to go out to my car and get a THIRD letter, and when I gave it to them, she said, "Oh, I remember seeing that. Now what did we say then?" No apology for losing the first two letters; no apology for making me get a third, or for not even trying to figure out what "they" were talking about when she was asked about it five minutes ago.
You know, where I work can be pretty screwed up. And sometimes, we do lose things, or make mistakes. BUT we apologize, acknowledge that WE screwed up, and at least try to be polite. We at least make an effort to LOOK for what's being asked for, and do everything we can to NOT screw it up again.
To her credit, I have noticed that everytime I'm in that store, she is just exactly like this--not very nice or friendly, and she certainly comes across as lazy and incompetent.
I absolutely dread going back in there to get the water. (Because I had to stand there while they got all the employees paychecks and acted like I was a big nuisance and made me waste time going to get a letter they've already had two copies of and wait while they processed the thing, I couldn't get the water then because I had to pick up the Howler from school.)
It takes commitment AND it sucks into your screwing off time.
And right now, it's not screwing off time, it's resting so I can continue to function time (long story short: I was diagnosed about a bajillion years ago as having fibromyalgia. Never was as sick as the people you read about in magazines or who appear on Oprah, but was still sick enough to want to die, and it compounded the depression. Had a mild flare up shortly after the Howler was born, survived relatively intact, and guess what flared up again 3 weeks ago? Yeah. It's so great. The all over your body hit-by-a-bus pain that settled into the entire right side of my body, and still occasionally causes me to want to scream in excrucitating pain when touched...anyway, it's mostly in my right shoulder, elbow, wrist, and hand, and whatever you may think about it, it's skeletal AND muscular pain, and it hurts like hell. And pain makes you tired. VERY tired. But the hormonal insomnia doesn't let you fall asleep easily. Oh, it's so great. I get to be f-ing assed miserable and in pain, all while NOT lashing out like an injured animal caught in a trap. Joyous.)
Anyway, I made eye contact and got nailed for what has turned out to be a two week long affair with frustration and traffic. I was asked to contact local businesses for donations of bottled water for the school picnic.
I have spent a good deal of time in traffic because there's a truckload of road contruction going on in town, and there's a trainload of idiots out there on those roads.
Frustration comes in with one store in particular. You'd think that the busiest grocery store in town would have a more organized and better run customer service desk.
They "lost" the first letter I gave them. I gave them a second one. I got a call shortly after dropping off the second letter saying that they would have a $20 gift card for us. I made it back there today (again with the traffic.) After waiting for another 25 minutes (I waited about 20 to give them the second letter, and had waited at least 10 for the first) they had no idea what I was talking about. They asked if I remember who I gave the letter to on Wednesday (the second letter) and I pointed out the blonde who had walked past me at least 10 time as I stood there today. When asked, she said she had no idea what they were talking about.
I had to go out to my car and get a THIRD letter, and when I gave it to them, she said, "Oh, I remember seeing that. Now what did we say then?" No apology for losing the first two letters; no apology for making me get a third, or for not even trying to figure out what "they" were talking about when she was asked about it five minutes ago.
You know, where I work can be pretty screwed up. And sometimes, we do lose things, or make mistakes. BUT we apologize, acknowledge that WE screwed up, and at least try to be polite. We at least make an effort to LOOK for what's being asked for, and do everything we can to NOT screw it up again.
To her credit, I have noticed that everytime I'm in that store, she is just exactly like this--not very nice or friendly, and she certainly comes across as lazy and incompetent.
I absolutely dread going back in there to get the water. (Because I had to stand there while they got all the employees paychecks and acted like I was a big nuisance and made me waste time going to get a letter they've already had two copies of and wait while they processed the thing, I couldn't get the water then because I had to pick up the Howler from school.)
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Hmmmm
Yesterday, the Howler & I stayed at the playground for about 30 minutes after school. While there, I saw something I didn't think adults did anymore:
One mom walked over to another mom, cupped her hand, leaned in super duper close, and was whispering in her ear.
Isn't that the sort of thing that, as a grown-up at the playground, you stop doing? I mean, isn't there an age limit on that sort of thing?
Or is it just me?
One mom walked over to another mom, cupped her hand, leaned in super duper close, and was whispering in her ear.
Isn't that the sort of thing that, as a grown-up at the playground, you stop doing? I mean, isn't there an age limit on that sort of thing?
Or is it just me?
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Mish Mash
So, this is what's been happening since I decided to lay down and die:
Ten days ago, I was fine.
Eight days ago, I was busy, but having fun. It was the PTA sponsored Spring Fling, and idea that, last September, seemed so far away as to be "doable." Especially considering that I was supposed to be 2nd chair, and someone else would be calling the shots. Hell, I just wanted to plant marigold seeds. Come January, the first chairperson knew she would be too busy to do it right, and admitted so. Everyone seemed to be so excited by the prospect of Spring Fling, I couldn't just say, "NO" either. I let myself be suckered. Anyway, thank the God of small miracles that another parent said he'd help. And by gum, he did help. He planned and dealt with fully 1/3 of what needed done (the first part was the marigolds, and the 2nd part was a make-yer-hat-at-home and we'll-have-a parade-at-school and with the principal's planning for the parade part, it took care of itself.) It was a blast and the kids loved it! Even getting briefly rained on.
Seven days ago, I felt like I'd been hit by a bus. Pain, exhaustion, and more pain.
Six days ago, I slept for most of Mother's day. And still felt like I'd been hit by a bus.
Five days ago, I was still tired, but not so much in pain.
Four days ago, I was still tired, but almost no pain.
Three days ago, I was so tired, I wanted to cry.
Two days ago, I was still gagging whenever I thought about the Howler's tongue. I should get pictures. Yeah, that would be "fun."
Yesterday, I was still tired and grossed out, but functional.
Today, I am tired, my feet hurt, but overall, I feel better than I've felt in a week. And I have pictures of the Howler's tongue to take.
Ten days ago, I was fine.
Eight days ago, I was busy, but having fun. It was the PTA sponsored Spring Fling, and idea that, last September, seemed so far away as to be "doable." Especially considering that I was supposed to be 2nd chair, and someone else would be calling the shots. Hell, I just wanted to plant marigold seeds. Come January, the first chairperson knew she would be too busy to do it right, and admitted so. Everyone seemed to be so excited by the prospect of Spring Fling, I couldn't just say, "NO" either. I let myself be suckered. Anyway, thank the God of small miracles that another parent said he'd help. And by gum, he did help. He planned and dealt with fully 1/3 of what needed done (the first part was the marigolds, and the 2nd part was a make-yer-hat-at-home and we'll-have-a parade-at-school and with the principal's planning for the parade part, it took care of itself.) It was a blast and the kids loved it! Even getting briefly rained on.
Seven days ago, I felt like I'd been hit by a bus. Pain, exhaustion, and more pain.
Six days ago, I slept for most of Mother's day. And still felt like I'd been hit by a bus.
Five days ago, I was still tired, but not so much in pain.
Four days ago, I was still tired, but almost no pain.
Three days ago, I was so tired, I wanted to cry.
Two days ago, I was still gagging whenever I thought about the Howler's tongue. I should get pictures. Yeah, that would be "fun."
Yesterday, I was still tired and grossed out, but functional.
Today, I am tired, my feet hurt, but overall, I feel better than I've felt in a week. And I have pictures of the Howler's tongue to take.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
Predictions
I predict that the AWOL PTA Prez will show up for the May meeting. She'll be there to preside over us all, making sure that we understand we've broken her rules of behavior (we're supposed to be seen and not heard, do as we are told, take the blame and never the credit) and we'll all certainly all feel badly when she's done.
~snark~
~snark~
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Confessions of the PTA Trauma Queen
It's lovely.
I'm 41 years old, and, apparently, by joining the PTA, I've been transported back to junior high--only with uglier, fatter, and dumber women. Okay, it's just like two or three (that I know of so far) but seriously. One or two psychotic breaks (or some really trippy bad LSD) and they've ruined it for everybody.
The emailing has begun. Without naming names, the AWOL prez (who was pretty useless to begin with) is sending out what I assume she thinks is "scathing" emails accusing people of being "VERY nasty" to her little nutbar friend. And, I'm on her propaganda email list.
It's pathetic, and it's upsetting to the people it's aimed at--you know, the ones who have been doing the work, and who actually put their money where their mouths are. The ones who aren't just saying, they're doing, showing, and being.
I so desperately want to reply, and just lambaste the hell out of them.
But, I've decided to take the higher road, mostly because these fuckwits aren't worth the energy I'd burn and the ever-increasing frustration I'll end up feeling. So I post it here instead.
What is most disturbing, though, is the fact that no one has yet explained the "I'm excusing myself from anymore invalid information" bit. I'm getting ready to start shipping it out to foreign language translators to see if there's some sort of Californianese language barrier keeping me from truly understanding.
I'm 41 years old, and, apparently, by joining the PTA, I've been transported back to junior high--only with uglier, fatter, and dumber women. Okay, it's just like two or three (that I know of so far) but seriously. One or two psychotic breaks (or some really trippy bad LSD) and they've ruined it for everybody.
The emailing has begun. Without naming names, the AWOL prez (who was pretty useless to begin with) is sending out what I assume she thinks is "scathing" emails accusing people of being "VERY nasty" to her little nutbar friend. And, I'm on her propaganda email list.
It's pathetic, and it's upsetting to the people it's aimed at--you know, the ones who have been doing the work, and who actually put their money where their mouths are. The ones who aren't just saying, they're doing, showing, and being.
I so desperately want to reply, and just lambaste the hell out of them.
But, I've decided to take the higher road, mostly because these fuckwits aren't worth the energy I'd burn and the ever-increasing frustration I'll end up feeling. So I post it here instead.
What is most disturbing, though, is the fact that no one has yet explained the "I'm excusing myself from anymore invalid information" bit. I'm getting ready to start shipping it out to foreign language translators to see if there's some sort of Californianese language barrier keeping me from truly understanding.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
It's Your Lie, Tell It How You Want
Our tantrumming acting president resigned everything PTA related Thursday night after elections. She said, in her letter, that the elections had nothing to do with it.
She's got some serious delusions going on 'round here. She says it's about standing up for herself, and gives the usual Jr High "I know who I am" and then proceeds to ramble on about "doing the right thing" and "always behaved in a professional manner."
Now, I don't know what kind of professional she's thinking, but she certainly wasn't it. Partly, it's the missing hard-g sound in her vocab, her lack of action in doing things that did not bring her into visibility, and then, it's the tantrum.
She got pissy during the meeting whenever anyone did or said anything she didn't like--including questions about the "whys" of the vote process. Several people had questions about why it was being done the way it was (it was obvious that she was trying to lock herself in/everyone else out, and what she ended up doing was locking herself out) and she actually YELLED and was very rude to those of us with questions.
She decided that we would proceed office-by-office, taking nominations from the floor, and closing the nominations as we went. Since she was up for two offices, she figured we would all just let it ride, including her removing one of the officer positions. Neither happened. She did not run unopposed for President nor for 1st VP. She lost both, dismally. 2nd VP opened back up, as the same person was running for each, and won each. Nominations were opened back up, and the one person nominated was voted in by a voice vote since she was unopposed.
Miss Thang managed to keep her composure, but I was certain to lose money, as I expected her to crack like a chapped lip before the end of the meeting. She didn't.
I do believe, though, that the bios that were put in the newsletter were reviewed by her, and she had help writing hers. The letter for the emergency meeting, the emails, and the emailed letter of resignation were hers, though. The inconsistancies from the newsletter to actual tantrumming were vibrant, easy to spot, and included poor sentence structure, misuse of punctuation, and some flat out crazed WTF does that mean thoughts.
Here's the one that kills me:
" I am excusing myself from anymore invalid information about me since I do not deserve it nor did I do anything to provoke it. "
She's pissed because someone stood up during the meeting, before the actual election, and stated that not only did the previous president not return her calls or emails, but that Miss Thang did not do it either. EVERY PERSON in that room has had that experience with one, or both, of them.
I have noticed during this past year, that neither of them treated the people they perceived has having little or no power with respect. If they didn't know you, if they didn't like you, you were ignored, and, I assume (because, DUH, they're women) they talked about you behind your back.
The difference between me and them? Mostly it comes down to a willingness to treat every one the same--I may think you're a total skank, a complete bum, a flake, a freak, or just a plain o' PITA, but, I learned your name, made an effort to know something about you, and THEN asked if you could help me out with whatever PTA thing there was. I never said ANY. THING. bad, mean, or rude about ANY straight up member. It was just the previous prez and Miss Thang--and it was all about their piss poor "professional" conduct. And, I would have said ANY of it to their faces--and, now that I mention it, I HAVE said it in a meeting, at least once.
Oh, btw, I am the Secretary-Elect for the PTA. May God have mercy on my soul.
She's got some serious delusions going on 'round here. She says it's about standing up for herself, and gives the usual Jr High "I know who I am" and then proceeds to ramble on about "doing the right thing" and "always behaved in a professional manner."
Now, I don't know what kind of professional she's thinking, but she certainly wasn't it. Partly, it's the missing hard-g sound in her vocab, her lack of action in doing things that did not bring her into visibility, and then, it's the tantrum.
She got pissy during the meeting whenever anyone did or said anything she didn't like--including questions about the "whys" of the vote process. Several people had questions about why it was being done the way it was (it was obvious that she was trying to lock herself in/everyone else out, and what she ended up doing was locking herself out) and she actually YELLED and was very rude to those of us with questions.
She decided that we would proceed office-by-office, taking nominations from the floor, and closing the nominations as we went. Since she was up for two offices, she figured we would all just let it ride, including her removing one of the officer positions. Neither happened. She did not run unopposed for President nor for 1st VP. She lost both, dismally. 2nd VP opened back up, as the same person was running for each, and won each. Nominations were opened back up, and the one person nominated was voted in by a voice vote since she was unopposed.
Miss Thang managed to keep her composure, but I was certain to lose money, as I expected her to crack like a chapped lip before the end of the meeting. She didn't.
I do believe, though, that the bios that were put in the newsletter were reviewed by her, and she had help writing hers. The letter for the emergency meeting, the emails, and the emailed letter of resignation were hers, though. The inconsistancies from the newsletter to actual tantrumming were vibrant, easy to spot, and included poor sentence structure, misuse of punctuation, and some flat out crazed WTF does that mean thoughts.
Here's the one that kills me:
" I am excusing myself from anymore invalid information about me since I do not deserve it nor did I do anything to provoke it. "
She's pissed because someone stood up during the meeting, before the actual election, and stated that not only did the previous president not return her calls or emails, but that Miss Thang did not do it either. EVERY PERSON in that room has had that experience with one, or both, of them.
I have noticed during this past year, that neither of them treated the people they perceived has having little or no power with respect. If they didn't know you, if they didn't like you, you were ignored, and, I assume (because, DUH, they're women) they talked about you behind your back.
The difference between me and them? Mostly it comes down to a willingness to treat every one the same--I may think you're a total skank, a complete bum, a flake, a freak, or just a plain o' PITA, but, I learned your name, made an effort to know something about you, and THEN asked if you could help me out with whatever PTA thing there was. I never said ANY. THING. bad, mean, or rude about ANY straight up member. It was just the previous prez and Miss Thang--and it was all about their piss poor "professional" conduct. And, I would have said ANY of it to their faces--and, now that I mention it, I HAVE said it in a meeting, at least once.
Oh, btw, I am the Secretary-Elect for the PTA. May God have mercy on my soul.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
The Mean Side
I am not a nice person. Sure, I can imitate nice people, and have even been known to be compassionate and caring (not often, but sometimes, it sneaks up on me) but, in general, I'm not a nice person.
I don't have time, nor do I care enough about 99.9% of the people I come into contact with to expend the energy it takes to be a nice person. While at work, where I get paid, I can be nice to customers, and occasionally, it bleeds over to my co workers, but again, I stress the paid part of that. In a nutshell, you are are advised to tread carefully if I'm not wearing the Gawdawful vest, especially if you are stupid, selfish, greedy, sneaky, immature, or otherwise annoying to the multitudes around you.
That said, I will continue by telling you that this post, in no way, reflects on my appreciation for the men and women in the military who sacrifice a lot to protect my right to be a not nice person.
But, having said all that, I have to say that simply by being, or having been, enrolled in the armed forces, does not give you a 'bye' in any way from my thinking that you are an asshole.
Turns out that Miss PTA Thang was a Marine. And in the Middle East, where her PTA vote-for-me bio says she was actually IN CHARGE of stuff.
This floors me.
I have the naive impression that being a Marine, in any shape or form, would mean that you would not behave like a 13 year old girl when faced with a group of people who are not impressed with you. Especially if you had, in your tenure as a Marine, been overseas, been in a war zone, and been responsible for the lives of other Marines. Basically, I would expect that a Marine would be able to suck up whatever wasn't going his or her way, not make excuses, and deal. I am, however, impressed that she hasn't been blathering about her Marinedom before--too often, in my experience, the Marines I've had the displeasure to meet, make being a Marine their biggest achievement--and they use it as an excuse to be a complete asshole too.
I would also have expected a Marine to not throw a tantrum, and I would have expected that at some point, also, the US government would have given you a hard consonant or two as a going-away present when your time was up. I think Uncle Sam could've at least done that much.
I don't have time, nor do I care enough about 99.9% of the people I come into contact with to expend the energy it takes to be a nice person. While at work, where I get paid, I can be nice to customers, and occasionally, it bleeds over to my co workers, but again, I stress the paid part of that. In a nutshell, you are are advised to tread carefully if I'm not wearing the Gawdawful vest, especially if you are stupid, selfish, greedy, sneaky, immature, or otherwise annoying to the multitudes around you.
That said, I will continue by telling you that this post, in no way, reflects on my appreciation for the men and women in the military who sacrifice a lot to protect my right to be a not nice person.
But, having said all that, I have to say that simply by being, or having been, enrolled in the armed forces, does not give you a 'bye' in any way from my thinking that you are an asshole.
Turns out that Miss PTA Thang was a Marine. And in the Middle East, where her PTA vote-for-me bio says she was actually IN CHARGE of stuff.
This floors me.
I have the naive impression that being a Marine, in any shape or form, would mean that you would not behave like a 13 year old girl when faced with a group of people who are not impressed with you. Especially if you had, in your tenure as a Marine, been overseas, been in a war zone, and been responsible for the lives of other Marines. Basically, I would expect that a Marine would be able to suck up whatever wasn't going his or her way, not make excuses, and deal. I am, however, impressed that she hasn't been blathering about her Marinedom before--too often, in my experience, the Marines I've had the displeasure to meet, make being a Marine their biggest achievement--and they use it as an excuse to be a complete asshole too.
I would also have expected a Marine to not throw a tantrum, and I would have expected that at some point, also, the US government would have given you a hard consonant or two as a going-away present when your time was up. I think Uncle Sam could've at least done that much.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
No, Really
How old are you? The acting PTA prez, last Thursday, gave me one of those idiotic cheerleader waves--one of the ones where you bend your arm at the elbow, so that your hand, palm facing out, is at boob level. You move your hand in a quick side to side motion, smiling like the Homecoming Queen candidate you are, and say in a chipper/cheerful voice, "HI!"
It's bizarre that suddenly, at 41, I'm back in Junior High.
Oh, I forgot the part about how your BFF is attached to you at the shoulder during the wave/HI exchange.
Beeeeeee Zaaaaaaaaar.
She's apparently doing this to several people, though--those of us who have suddenly hit her radar at the meeins.
Voting is coming up, and I guess she's trying to get the vote the Homecoming Queen way. Be all "friendly" to the lesser girls around her, and we'll all continue to play along. I guess she missed the day when everyone else realized that high school sucked, and no one in their right mind wants to go back there. Ever.
It's sad, but funny in a way, to think that she thinks that kind of thing is actually going to work on us. I mean, doesn't she get that we actually talk--like real people--to each other, we've compared notes on our impressions of her, and we've all individually come to the conclusion that she's shallow and self-centered.
I am comforted to know that I'm not the only one, though. Does she really think we're all that stupid? Or shallow? Does she really have NO IDEA that we'd rather have a complete hard-assed, mean, demanding bitch around than her? Does she think that while there are 4-6 of standing around the playground talking and laughing with each other, and she's off to the side with the manipulating wench newsletter woman (ONE person) that we'd all really rather be her?
What is she smoking, and where can I get some?
It's bizarre that suddenly, at 41, I'm back in Junior High.
Oh, I forgot the part about how your BFF is attached to you at the shoulder during the wave/HI exchange.
Beeeeeee Zaaaaaaaaar.
She's apparently doing this to several people, though--those of us who have suddenly hit her radar at the meeins.
Voting is coming up, and I guess she's trying to get the vote the Homecoming Queen way. Be all "friendly" to the lesser girls around her, and we'll all continue to play along. I guess she missed the day when everyone else realized that high school sucked, and no one in their right mind wants to go back there. Ever.
It's sad, but funny in a way, to think that she thinks that kind of thing is actually going to work on us. I mean, doesn't she get that we actually talk--like real people--to each other, we've compared notes on our impressions of her, and we've all individually come to the conclusion that she's shallow and self-centered.
I am comforted to know that I'm not the only one, though. Does she really think we're all that stupid? Or shallow? Does she really have NO IDEA that we'd rather have a complete hard-assed, mean, demanding bitch around than her? Does she think that while there are 4-6 of standing around the playground talking and laughing with each other, and she's off to the side with the manipulating wench newsletter woman (ONE person) that we'd all really rather be her?
What is she smoking, and where can I get some?
Thursday, April 02, 2009
The Mee-in
I did make it to the PTA special mee-in, thanks in part to the weather. (They closed the garden center at 5:30pm instead of 7pm; and since they didn't need me to cover breaks or anything, I was outta there!) I arrived just at the scheduled time, and was absolutely stunning in my orange. (HAH!)
Anyway, it was rather anti-climactic. There was no tantrumming, no fighting, no nothin' really.
A brief explanation of what we did right, and how, for several years now, things had been done totally not right.
The only real question is how to do the actual voting. We can't do, according to the by-laws I guess, a vote-by-proxy thing, and Miss Thang is opposed to doing a "mail in" or "drop off" vote. I assume she's as paranoid of "us" as we are of her, and doesn't want to take the chance of having a funny vote that will be questioned later.
If she gets it, though, I'd be surprised.
Nobody is happy over the way most of the parents have been treated--again with the lack of communication, the no-call back (don't call us, we'll call you--as if policy), the lies we've been told about what's happening, who's involved, etc etc etc.
It's time to move on.
But, apparently, I am Miss Thang's PTA BFF. Her non-verbal performance the night of the real meeting, the email responses, AND her meltdown seem to have passed, and she was, at the special meeting, chatting away at me like we were always such good friends. She blathered encouragingly about how "great you'd be" as the secretary and all that.
Bleah.
Somehow, I get the feeling that she's not really paying attention (or is totally Asperbergering my social clues) to who I am. It's like she believes that because I continued to show up even while being totally ignored means I'm desperate for friendship in some dorkass way, and will be forever indebted to her for being my friend. (Now, there's an As-If policy if I ever heard one.)
Does it make me a phony because I don't visibly roll my eyes at her?
Anyway, it was rather anti-climactic. There was no tantrumming, no fighting, no nothin' really.
A brief explanation of what we did right, and how, for several years now, things had been done totally not right.
The only real question is how to do the actual voting. We can't do, according to the by-laws I guess, a vote-by-proxy thing, and Miss Thang is opposed to doing a "mail in" or "drop off" vote. I assume she's as paranoid of "us" as we are of her, and doesn't want to take the chance of having a funny vote that will be questioned later.
If she gets it, though, I'd be surprised.
Nobody is happy over the way most of the parents have been treated--again with the lack of communication, the no-call back (don't call us, we'll call you--as if policy), the lies we've been told about what's happening, who's involved, etc etc etc.
It's time to move on.
But, apparently, I am Miss Thang's PTA BFF. Her non-verbal performance the night of the real meeting, the email responses, AND her meltdown seem to have passed, and she was, at the special meeting, chatting away at me like we were always such good friends. She blathered encouragingly about how "great you'd be" as the secretary and all that.
Bleah.
Somehow, I get the feeling that she's not really paying attention (or is totally Asperbergering my social clues) to who I am. It's like she believes that because I continued to show up even while being totally ignored means I'm desperate for friendship in some dorkass way, and will be forever indebted to her for being my friend. (Now, there's an As-If policy if I ever heard one.)
Does it make me a phony because I don't visibly roll my eyes at her?
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Tantrum Is as Tantrum Does
Turns out that if you don't tell the whole truth, skew the *facts* to fit your cause, make up stuff, don't do your homework, but scream and cry and carry on, you still don't get what you want.
The special meeting is still on for tomorrow--Monday. She did send home announcements of the time--it came home on Friday. The asshole time of the special meeting is 5:45pm.
Stop and think! Parents who work different shifts--aka not a 9-5 office job aren't going to be there, because duh. They have to work. Parents who work 9-5 jobs aren't going to be there, because they have to pick up their kids at the babysitter's and get home to make supper. Stay at home parents aren't going to go because, duh, it's supper time.
Apparently, Miss Tantrum doesn't do supper hour at the time normal people have it. She also doesn't get that if she's running a mee-in, she shouldn't be having to scrape her kid off the floor, ceiling, bathroom walls, chairs, etc. And if she's too distracted to be paying attention (it's not entirely the kid's fault--she missed the nominations and he wasn't crawling up her leg at that time) during the meeting to what's being said, well, DUH, she shouldn't be running the mee-in, nor should she be pitching a holy-hell-fit when she A) doesn't know what's going on, and B)doesn't understand what's going on, and C) doesn't like what's been decided in her mental absence.
I'm sorry I have to work tomorrow, because I'm going to miss it.
Oh, and btw, 90% of what she's said (in person and in email) is BS, and what she has said that's truthful, is just pathetic.
Also, just because you ended up in a certain position, doesn't mean that you where "put" there--in this case, it means that you chose your friends, they lied to get you to sign up for something, then ditched you. The rest of us were stuck because we knew better than to trust what we were being told, and didn't want to be the one left holding the bag.
The fact that we're on to what's true now, and know what is going on and what needs to be done doesn't make us the bad guys--it just makes you pathetic, stupid, and fun to watch implode.
My Sweetie is correct. I do enjoy a good fight.
The special meeting is still on for tomorrow--Monday. She did send home announcements of the time--it came home on Friday. The asshole time of the special meeting is 5:45pm.
Stop and think! Parents who work different shifts--aka not a 9-5 office job aren't going to be there, because duh. They have to work. Parents who work 9-5 jobs aren't going to be there, because they have to pick up their kids at the babysitter's and get home to make supper. Stay at home parents aren't going to go because, duh, it's supper time.
Apparently, Miss Tantrum doesn't do supper hour at the time normal people have it. She also doesn't get that if she's running a mee-in, she shouldn't be having to scrape her kid off the floor, ceiling, bathroom walls, chairs, etc. And if she's too distracted to be paying attention (it's not entirely the kid's fault--she missed the nominations and he wasn't crawling up her leg at that time) during the meeting to what's being said, well, DUH, she shouldn't be running the mee-in, nor should she be pitching a holy-hell-fit when she A) doesn't know what's going on, and B)doesn't understand what's going on, and C) doesn't like what's been decided in her mental absence.
I'm sorry I have to work tomorrow, because I'm going to miss it.
Oh, and btw, 90% of what she's said (in person and in email) is BS, and what she has said that's truthful, is just pathetic.
Also, just because you ended up in a certain position, doesn't mean that you where "put" there--in this case, it means that you chose your friends, they lied to get you to sign up for something, then ditched you. The rest of us were stuck because we knew better than to trust what we were being told, and didn't want to be the one left holding the bag.
The fact that we're on to what's true now, and know what is going on and what needs to be done doesn't make us the bad guys--it just makes you pathetic, stupid, and fun to watch implode.
My Sweetie is correct. I do enjoy a good fight.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Sitting in the Cheap Seats
After working retail for these past 8.5 years, I have learned that grown ups will throw tantrums, and have made it my goal to NEVER EVER be the grown up pitching a fit.
But, like driving past a trainwreck and rubbernecking to see as much misery as possible, in joining the PTA, I have discovered what a true tantrum looks like.
I never expected to see it for myself, though. I figured that a lack of communication, 0 call backs, and being invisible would be the sum total of my experience.
I thought that simply going to the meetings, getting involved in what I wanted to get involved in and "sitting in the cheap seats, shining a spotlight on the stupidity" would be my PTA achievement.
Sometime between Christmas and now, I have become what the Weasel terms "a leader." At the time he said it, I balked.
I have come to embrace it (the comment, not the Weasel, duh) because, well, it's true. I don't say that because I'm patting myself on the back, or blowing my own horn. I say it because at some point in the not-so-distant past, I have stepped up and become.
How bizarre has it seemed that after a meeting where I propose a fundraiser and a support our school's library and reading ideas that I hear on a weekly basis how lucky the PTA is to have me. How bizarre is it people actively seek me out after a meeting, to volunteer their time, ideas, and help. How freaked out have I been?
V.E.R.Y.
In the past month, I was asked if I had put my name in the hat for nomination to any of the executive board positions. I did not. I said 6 months ago, that if nominated I will not run, and if elected I will not serve.
And God has struck me with lightning over it, and I have to rescind the statement. And oh, how I hate to do things like that.
After the meeting a week ago, I was nominated anyway. And, while it wasn't over my nomination, the shit hit the fan.
Miss Thang, who pronounces "meeting" as "mee-in", thought she would be given the Top Spot and when that didn't happen, she began warming up for a tantrum. When the warmup failed to produce the desired effect, she went into full-on psycho PTA mom and is now actively looking for an excuse to void the nominations (denying, as well, that I was nominated at all, the twit) and thinking that as acting president, she's going to call the shots, and get to choose who is nominated.
She's managed, like her friends before her, to offend a good many people--from not returning calls, to her lack of hard consonants, to this tantrum. Whatever happens with the nominations, she's not counting on the few of us who have figured out who did the work this year (and duh, it wasn't HER) and who have had enough of this Jr-Hi crap and will not only work for change, but demand it.
She, and her hell-bent for leather power tripping cronies, seem to have totally discounted me--I've been speaking up since a year ago January, and they still haven't declared war on me. Not that I've heard, and this PTA's grapevine has proven VERY reliable, VERY quick, and VERY fact based.
At work, I am constantly the object of contempt, even while trying to keep my head down. With the PTA, they're not even registering me.
Unless, my overall behavior has them intimidated: I continued to show up, even after being ignored repeatedly. I continued to show up, and even became more active when they called me someone else's name for several months. I laughed (but not a hysterical, manical laugh) when they suddenly learned my name and tried to convince me to be their secretary. Maybe they're just counting on my being a flake.
Either way, I'm still sitting in the cheap seats, kicking ass and taking names.
But, like driving past a trainwreck and rubbernecking to see as much misery as possible, in joining the PTA, I have discovered what a true tantrum looks like.
I never expected to see it for myself, though. I figured that a lack of communication, 0 call backs, and being invisible would be the sum total of my experience.
I thought that simply going to the meetings, getting involved in what I wanted to get involved in and "sitting in the cheap seats, shining a spotlight on the stupidity" would be my PTA achievement.
Sometime between Christmas and now, I have become what the Weasel terms "a leader." At the time he said it, I balked.
I have come to embrace it (the comment, not the Weasel, duh) because, well, it's true. I don't say that because I'm patting myself on the back, or blowing my own horn. I say it because at some point in the not-so-distant past, I have stepped up and become.
How bizarre has it seemed that after a meeting where I propose a fundraiser and a support our school's library and reading ideas that I hear on a weekly basis how lucky the PTA is to have me. How bizarre is it people actively seek me out after a meeting, to volunteer their time, ideas, and help. How freaked out have I been?
V.E.R.Y.
In the past month, I was asked if I had put my name in the hat for nomination to any of the executive board positions. I did not. I said 6 months ago, that if nominated I will not run, and if elected I will not serve.
And God has struck me with lightning over it, and I have to rescind the statement. And oh, how I hate to do things like that.
After the meeting a week ago, I was nominated anyway. And, while it wasn't over my nomination, the shit hit the fan.
Miss Thang, who pronounces "meeting" as "mee-in", thought she would be given the Top Spot and when that didn't happen, she began warming up for a tantrum. When the warmup failed to produce the desired effect, she went into full-on psycho PTA mom and is now actively looking for an excuse to void the nominations (denying, as well, that I was nominated at all, the twit) and thinking that as acting president, she's going to call the shots, and get to choose who is nominated.
She's managed, like her friends before her, to offend a good many people--from not returning calls, to her lack of hard consonants, to this tantrum. Whatever happens with the nominations, she's not counting on the few of us who have figured out who did the work this year (and duh, it wasn't HER) and who have had enough of this Jr-Hi crap and will not only work for change, but demand it.
She, and her hell-bent for leather power tripping cronies, seem to have totally discounted me--I've been speaking up since a year ago January, and they still haven't declared war on me. Not that I've heard, and this PTA's grapevine has proven VERY reliable, VERY quick, and VERY fact based.
At work, I am constantly the object of contempt, even while trying to keep my head down. With the PTA, they're not even registering me.
Unless, my overall behavior has them intimidated: I continued to show up, even after being ignored repeatedly. I continued to show up, and even became more active when they called me someone else's name for several months. I laughed (but not a hysterical, manical laugh) when they suddenly learned my name and tried to convince me to be their secretary. Maybe they're just counting on my being a flake.
Either way, I'm still sitting in the cheap seats, kicking ass and taking names.
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