Sunday, November 26, 2006

Counting Down

I only have ***15*** days of actual work left. December 15th is my last day, and I'm feeling a fair amount of unreality now. Friday (the day after turkey day), the Hub and I went to our bank and made the LAST payment on our mortgage. We actually paid it off 11 years early, having moved in here in Oct. of 1980 with an interest rate of 12 and one-quarter percent (not unusual for those days), and having re-financed it twice to take advantage of the much-lower interest rates, and to put an addition on the house. Starting Jan 3rd, the kitchen remodel will begin (already paid for), replacing linoleum with tile, and Formica countertops with Corian, and a Corian sink, new disposal, etc. Keeping the original cabinets, which need a little touch-up here and there, like new knobs and such, but they were top-of-the-line back then, and I still like them, dings notwithstanding. Of course, all this means having no kitchen for a week or more, and having to pack up all the kitchen junk in the base cabinets and move it all into the dining room (somehow), so that the tile will go under the cabinets, and more specifically, under the dishwasher. As it turns out, the weird black marks on the linoleum in front of the dishwasher and sink area are not caused by the backing of the throw rug; no indeed, they are caused by the dishwasher having corroded through its base, leaking under the dishwasher (mushrooms!!! Under the dishwasher!!!) and seeping betweeen the two layers of linoleum, and then mold forming. A total mess. A new dishwasher was installed, but this clearly only addressed the immediate problem and not the damage done by the leak. This latest remodel should be the last for the kitchen. Oh yeah, we're repainting too, starting with the (ewwww) ceiling. My ideal in a kitchen would be one with a big floor drain, and a reel-out steam hose you could use to BLAST AWAY at the greasy, cobwebby bits, ceiling to floor, cabinets, appliances, countertops, the works. Daily. Sort of like an operating room, all white tile and stainless steel and bright lights. Meanwhile, scrub, paint, and then keep scrubbing. I tend to work on housework the way they paint the Golden Gate bridge--I putter away at it, slowly making progress day to day, but never having the whole thing done at once, just starting over again and again and...

Our Thanksgiving was fine in all respects. Having once had only the two of us for it, then gradually adding more and more people (I think the high was 17), and then gradually having attrition back to just the four of us, Hub and I and the kids (now 25 and 26). For the first time, daughter R came in the kitchen and helped with that last hour's worth of pandemonium, peeling and stirring and setting the table and so forth, WITHOUT being asked. Then she and her brother began the clean-up. It always amazes me, how long the prep and cleanup take, when the actual eating is done in, oh, twenty minutes. You know the definition of an optimist? It's the guy who asks, the day after Thanksgiving, "What's for dinner?"

I was off this entire week, and got a lot of re-organizing done, and also a fair amount of reading and naps. I even did some Christmas shopping, washed and vacuumed my car, and the usual laundry. Which reminds me: I have a key hanger that has a spare key for pretty much everything. When I took my Miata to get its winter shoes put on, I thought I'd use the spare key so I wouldn't have to wrestle with taking the key off my keyring. I grabbed it, hopped in the car and OOPs, it didn't work. My guess is that it is the key for one of the other two Miatas I had in the past. So I popped by the Mazda dealer to get a spare key made, and guess what? They have a "chip" for security in the key, and to get a key made you have schedule a service visit, bring the car and ALL the keys with you, and have them program the new key. The cost? $115. For a spare key! Don't you think they should have mentioned this at the time we bought the car? Also, they told us that the main computer in the car has been recalled (we never were notified), and when the replacement comes in, they will call for us to schedule a time to bring the car back, along will ALL the keys, to be re-made (fortunately, for free). If we had known about the recall, maybe we would have saved some $$ by asking for another key THEN, but alas...

That's about it for now, I'll try to post more frequently now that I will be a Lady of Leisure. Maybe even post some photos! as soon as I figure out just how to do that.....

Friday, November 10, 2006

What are the odds?

Two weeks ago my husband and I arranged to meet at a local restaurant for lunch. I got there first, and was shown to a table, and I sat facing the door so I could watch for the Hub. As I was seated, I realized that at the table directly behind me, also facing the door, sat a man that I used to work for (D), whom I disliked, with three women from his department. We didn't make eye contact, so I didn't speak, just sat down.

So here I am at a table alone, looking over the menu, waiting. I swear I wasn't eavesdropping on D, there was just a wash of murmured conversation all around me. But have you ever been in a place, maybe a party, where you're wool-gathering, and suddenly someone nearby speaks your name in passing and your attention zeros in on that voice? That's what happened here--D said not just my first name, but first and last names. Over the next couple of minutes as I listened, I realized what he was saying. At first I thought, he DID see me, and now he's going to say hello, and I'll have to be polite back. But actually, he was telling the women about when I worked in his department, how I had taken 3 months of leave (FMLA, actually) following a suicide attempt that put me in the ICU, and how they terminated my position the day I returned; and that in response I had filled a grievance against the department, and then proceeded to tell them how the grievance went. And the longer I listened, the angrier I got, that here was this jerk revealing confidential information to other people, just as an entertaining story! He also mentioned that now I inspect his departmental labs for safety, etc. etc. I was in a quandary sitting there, deciding what to do. They had already been served, so inevitably they would pass directly past my table as they left and D would see me, and then think, did she hear me? And I wanted to tell him Yes, I DID hear him; and I wanted him to stop before more juicy tales emerged while I sat there feeling devastated. So I turned around, leaned over to look him directly in the face. He said "Hey, there's M now!" all hearty hail-fellow-well-met. I said, "You might want to think about changing the subject right about now." He said , "Huh?" and I repeated it. Then I turned around, and signaled the Hub, who had just arrived at the door. There was freezing silence behind me, and a few minutes later they fled past our table and out.

So what are the odds that I would be seated near someone I knew, and that without my own companion to talk to, I would overhear him, 4 years after the fact, talking about me? Could he have unconsciously registered me when I was seated, and that started the train of thought? Did he CONSCIOUSLY know I was there, and start the conversation so I WOULD overhear? They say eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves, and I guess this proves that.

But yesterday, I finished the annual lab safety inspections on his department, and there are all kinds of deficiencies, some of the ones I pointed out last year still haven't been corrected, and I will bring the most egregious violations to the attention of the administration. With prejudice, I might add. Ah, payback is a bitch.....

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Newbie Drivers

I grew up in Miami Florida, or My-YAM-ee, and when I was home for the summer after my freshman year of college, I needed to find a job and get more $$ for school. I put in apps many places, but usually telling them you were leaving in September ended the interview right there. One of the places I went to was MacDonalds. At that time I was driving my parents big ole Chevy Stationwagon, and the view out the back was limited by that tailgate. Backing up in the empty parking lot in the pouring rain, I accidentally backed into a post, about 6 inches in diameter and maybe 30 inches high. It dented in the bumper, pushing it up against the tailgate, so that opening the tailgate would crease it. I didn't want to tell my parents, so I "forgot" to say anything that night. The very next day, Mom drove me to an interview downtown, where we had to park in a valet parking garage. After we came home my dad arrived home and parked his car behind the wagon and came in storming, "What the h--- happened to the tailgate?" And Mom said, Oh d---, it must have been that valet, I hate having to turn the car over to someone instead of parking myself, they must have backed out into a post and never said a word, I've a good mind to go back and demand they fix it, but of course they'll deny it was them, I guess we'll just have to get it fixed, etc. etc. for some time. As for me, I said nothing, other than, oh my, just look at that! etc. If they had seriously planned on making a fuss at the garage, I like to think I'd have 'fessed up, but I dunno...
Anyway, for YEARS after that, Mom would always say,"no valet parking for us, remember what happened to the stationwagon?" She said this very thing when she visited us in San Francisco, where nearly all the restaurants in the city had valet parking. So, did I ever confess? Nope. So if she's up there somewhere checking in on me, sorry Mom, it was an accident. I promise I'll tell you next time.....