Remembering Big Len

Last week marked nine years since my Dad, affectionately known to some as Big Len, left this world and made it a few shades less colorful. Tomorrow would have been his 88th birthday. Rather than tell you what a wonderful, giving, selfless man he was (many of you already know that), I'm going to share some examples of the colorful way he expressed himself. Big Len was a bit like Archie Bunker (I'm dating myself), in that he often didn't get words or phrases quite right. Whenever I hear my Dad talking in my head, these are some of the things he says that make me smile:

• Chesterfield - this is a sofa if you were born in Canada or have a bunch of Canucks for relatives
• Davenport - this also means sofa
• Down celler - this is a basement
• Tamata - tomato
• Patata - potato
• Punkin - pumpkin
• Asparagris - yes, he called it that
• Dungarees - pants
• Up-To - as in, "We were up to Wegmans when I got a bad case of gas"
• Hots - hot dogs
• Lull - this means slow...Goom called Dad this when we played cards
• Leonard Box - she also called him this. I never understood the origin, but it made Mom and Gooma laugh their arses off
• Harvest Frog - as in, "her has is bigger than a harvest frog's"
• Grand Old Opra - actually the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville
• Fresh - this meant either a heifer was knocked up or or that I was being mouthy
• Schafer bugs - Japanese beetles
• Scours - cow diarrhea
• Cow flop - normal cow poop
• Doc - a nick name my Dad earned after attempting to fix some male calves by putting rubber bands around their nuts...he missed one and that dude got Dad's whole herd "fresh"
• Ungion - onion
• Reddish - radish
• Brass Monkey - as in, "it's cold enough to freeze the balls off a..."
• Pick Stone - I dreaded hearing this phrase each spring...it involved picking up gravel from the sides of the driveway that had been misplaced by the snow plow during the winter...we picked it up piece by piece, dumped it in buckets until they were full, then dumped it back into the driveway and began again
• Pick Walnuts - whatta you think?
• Get Your Ass Behind You - directions given to my brothers when using a wrench, Dad didn't swear around me until I was over thirty years old
• Cukes - cucumbers, which Dad ate in a sandwich on buttered white bread
• Son of a Seapup - SOB
• Chicken Ass Mary - referring to a woman with a big caboose
• Up south/Down north - I don't know....
• Silver Bells - if you never heard my Dad sing this while dancing in our living room, then you haven't truly lived
• Grand Pricks - the car...grand prix
• Thousand Islands - not the location, but the salad dressing
• Like Two Pigs Wrestling Under a Blanket - another way to describe a large butt

There are endless others but you get the idea.

Happy Birthday, Dad. I hope you're enjoying hots and pop with Goom, surrounded by all those that went before you, as well as those that came later. 

Hired or Fired?

I interviewed with a company today for whom I'd really like to work. I see potential for job satisfaction and professional growth. The interview went well and walked away feeling like it was mine. Towards the end of the interview, I was given a personal assessment to complete. The first section requires one to select the aspects that one believes others expect them to portray. The second section requires one to select the aspect that one believes are their true personality. I was as honest as I could be.

As part of the interview feedback, the company sent my results, based on my responses. The analysis was frighteningly accurate given the amount of information I provided. I am concerned that these results may give a potential employer cause to think again before hiring me. I welcome your thoughts.

"Patti is a distinctly independent and individualistic person, strong-minded and determined. Venturesome, she will stick her neck out and take responsibility for risks when she believes she's right. She finds the challenge of new challenges and new problems stimulating and responds to them with action. She has a lot of confidence in herself, her own ability, knowledge, and decisions.

Patti is an ingenious and innovative problem-solver and trouble-shooter. She has an actively inquiring mind, a lively interest in the technical aspects of her work, and a need to know more and learn about the systems, techniques, fact, and concepts involved in it. She will drive hard to get things done her way, and quickly. A self-starter, she initiates, makes decisions, and assumes responsibility for them. She has a strong, competitive drive, is ambitious, and will drive herself hard to her goals. Her sense of urgency and drive for results will put pressure on others as well as herself.

In expressing herself, she is direct, factual, outspoken, and frank. Her approach to others is authoritative, telling, and if she encounters resistance or competition, aggressive. Always concerned with timely results, she deals with ambiguous situations briskly and firmly.

Because she has a broad focus on goals and results, she prefers to delegate details to others. Quick and fairly accurate in handling details herself, she becomes very impatient and less accurate in performing work which requires routine and repetitive handling of details at a slow of systematic pace."

The aggressive and competitive talk could prove fatal, as well as the words "outspoken" and "frank". Those aren't exactly qualities that every employer is looking for or wants to deal with on a daily basis.

By the way, don't call me Frank. My name is Patti, although I'll answer to "Doll" if you say it properly.

Clearly, what that damned thing failed to capture is my glorious, unending sense of humor and love of all furry creatures and sea mammals. Oh, and my love of Sean Connery and Buck Owens. They were also left out and are very important aspects of my personality.

So what if I punch in the throat those who have it coming? Is that a reason not to hire me? I'm forever loyal to those who earn it.

Not sure where things stand, except that I feel compelled to compete with myself for different results tomorrow....

In Spite of the Miles

I gladly count myself among the fortunate souls blessed with friendships that not only stand the test of time, but the challenge of distance. I have friends that I've known almost my entire life (like my BFF whom I met when we were three), others since junior high, and still others that I didn't connect with until my adult years. The best friendships, in my opinion, are those that can be counted on to continue in spite of job/family responsibilities or the side affects of life choices.

Specifically, I'm talking about a friendship that began for me as a powerful teenage crush. It was rather one-sided, I admit, but it provided some sweet memories nonetheless. After high school, I moved to Washington DC and it was well over twenty years before we reconnected. Thoughts of that person had crossed my mind now and again and those warm memories never failed to make me laugh (another sign of a powerful friendship), but there were no words exchanged until we were (in theory) grown and responsible adults.

It was during the aftermath of my first book that we found each other face-to-face once again. I was dressed in a nun's habit...but that's another story. The belly laughing and playful banter came as easily as if we'd been doing it for years. That spark, that connection with another soul, is the magic of which I speak. (Get your mind out of the gutter. I'm not talking solely of sexual relationships with the boys of summer; this phenomenon happens on all levels). It's those types of connections that remain powerful in spite of years without communication and thousands of miles of highway.

I am truly grateful to share these kinds of timeless connections with a handful of people. You know who you are. I am happy to call you friends and I thank you for sharing yourself with me.

Enough sappy shit. It's happy hour.

Signs

I sometimes look around to see if there's a film crew camouflaged nearby, just there to record the craziness that has become my daily existence. I've yet to spy one, but often suspect they're out there, hiding in the mangroves and bougainvillea. Don't get me wrong; I'm not claiming to have an exciting or desirable life. It's just been one weird event after another lately and it makes me wonder who is getting joy out of watching me bumble from one mess to the next.

Hmmm, I suppose it's vain to think that anyone would be interested in my bumbling. Oh well. I must be vain, then, because I'm sure someone/something is enjoying this.

Some of my recent challenges have been brought on by life choices and were mostly predictable, if I'm being honest. (And there's really no point in being anything else. This is my blog and those who don't like my truths will move along.) Some recent hurdles were not predictable at all and I'm still reeling from the latest kick in the pants.

Tuesday night, the agency for which I work was descended upon by employees of an aggressive, power-hungry ghoul from Tallahassee. They rescinded our certification and shut us down. All of the staff, including our brilliant, hard-working CEO, were furloughed and kicked off property. Tallahassee is calling it a furlough, but the truth is that they've replaced all of us with a new staff and we'll never be rehired. There was no warning, although it became crystal clear when this went down that the Capital has been planning this take-over for quite some time. It seems that our CEO's leadership and reputation for excellence was making those to the north a bit uncomfortable.

Each of the staff is experiencing shock on some level and it's interesting to see how differently we handle it. Those who've worked there for more than fifteen years are grieving as if they'd lost a family member. Those with fewer years under their belt are more focused on the financial implications. I'm somewhere in between. I strongly believe in our mission and...I like to get paid because I like to eat...and drink wine.

I suppose there's never a convenient time to become unemployed, but at this point in my life, this could hardly be considered convenient. Fear not, good readers! I have an interview tomorrow at 10:30am and another on Tuesday at 9am! If you'd be willing to walk around with your fingers, arms, legs, and eyes crossed for positive outcomes, I'd be most appreciative.

Until then, I'll be keeping an eye out for the hidden camera crew....

Are you familiar with the transition of having known someone intimately who slowly becomes someone you once knew? I suppose it's happened to all of us, whether with a friend, lover,or sibling. It's a curious thing to me right now because I am experiencing it with multiple people. Some of these changing relationships are painful, others not so much, but they point to one thing for certain; I am the common denominator. These transitions are unfolding because of things I've said and/or decisions I've made. Make no mistake about that. I am the cause and I don't claim to be a victim. There is a weight to that realization, which is at times, an uncomfortable burden. At others, I don't feel it much at all. No surprise, I like it better when I don't feel it.

I've known people - mostly women - who get to a point in their lives where they just seem to stop caring about what others think or what others expect of them. If it doesn't feel good, they don't do it and they are without apology. They stop trying to please everyone else and begin to start doing what makes them happy. I have arrived at that particular station. It took forty-eight years, but I'm here.

I don't think it's uncommon for women my age to become aware that they've lost themselves (or parts of themselves) along the way. While trying to be the best parent, spouse, sibling, employee, etc, some of us get a little lost.

Before you get your panties in a bunch, I'm not saying that I've stopped loving my family or wanting them to be happy. Calm yourself. I still plan to take care of my babies as best I can, but I will no longer do things I don't like doing. (Again, relax. I'll still go to work and pay my bills. Try to follow along.).....  I'm a pretty happy-go-lucky person. I love to laugh and be silly and feed people. However, I've been known to attend functions that I dreaded just because it was expected of me. I've spent hours upon hours with people that I truly don't enjoy being with because they are happiness vampires (they live to suck the joy out of life) - because they invited me for dinner and I felt obligated to join. I don't plan to be rude or unkind to anyone, but if I don't want to do it, I won't. If it doesn't feel good, I'm no longer going to engage.

Does that sound selfish? Oh well. Color me as you see fit.

Will there be meetings I'd rather skip, but have to attend? Of course. Will I be able to avoid the grocery store forever? No.

Try to keep up.

I'm not talking about things like laundry and cleaning and grocery shopping. I'm talking about not allowing people to manipulate me through guilt or a sense of obligation. I speak to not pretending that everything is rosy if, in fact, it sucks sweaty moose balls. I'm referring to ending relationships - however intimate they may be - with people who don't treat me with the respect and love I need. Seems obvious, right? It sounds easier to do that it actually is because our "jobs" (expectations as a spouse/parent/child/employee) dictate a lot of what we do.

What does this mean? Who the hell knows. I feel like I should be performing a Monty Python skit to better articulate what I'm trying to say.

A Bumpy Ride?

I recently commented that my life seems to be paralleling the lives of at least one of the fictitious characters in my latest book. While it may sound intriguing to some of you on that side of the fence, it's down-right frightening at times from over here. I'm not searching for sympathy, just capturing my thoughts. If you've gleaned nothing from reading my blog (how presumptuous I can be...as if you read this crap), you'll have probably figured out that putting my thoughts "on paper" is one of the only ways to clear my mind and allow me to focus on the things that require me to be present. (Like being a parent and doing my job.)  This blog kept me sane for quite some time and then I didn't post for a year. You do the math.

Having provided that background, I can - with a decent amount of certainty - assure you that I'm not insane, although one never really knows for sure...let's take into account my childhood. Oh shit. Perhaps I AM a nutter. Well, there's no helping me now.

Very recently, I altered the way I'm living; quite drastically. Life is about trade-offs. (Well, it's about more than that, of course. There's pizza and beer and Sean Connery, but I'm focusing on trade offs for now.) If you want this, then you have to forego that. It's pretty straightforward, really.

Recent decisions about what I'm willing to live with and what I'm not will no doubt become my defining moments for this decade.

What happens next is really up to me, isn't it? Whoa. That's a powerful realization. Buckle up, kids. We might be in for a bumpy ride.

I'm baaacckkkkk

It's been a year since my last post. A year. Twelve months. Fifty-two weeks. You get the idea. It's been a long, damn time.

Before I launch into a Christmas card-like essay and what's been going on (complete with pictures of children, pets, and vacations to bore you), I'll suggest that you take a moment and consider where you were/what you were doing last spring. What's transpired in your life since then? Have there been major hurdles and/or changes? No doubt, there have been. It's what the experts call living life. Trust me. I once read about it on Facebook.

I'll spare you the drama and details, because let's face it, who wants to listen to that crap anyway? Instead, I'll share a thunderbolt-to-the-head moment that occurred to me just this afternoon. You may recall that I've written a third book. I'm still in the editing process (does that ever end?) while searching for an agent. Stop rolling your eyes. It could happen. Stranger things do. Each and every day.

As I sat at my laptop rewriting a sentence that felt clunky, I was punched in the face by a realization that escaped me until that moment. (You can't use this kind of language when you're a Victim Advocate or work in a Domestic Abuse Shelter, but since I'm home, I'm going for it.) The book that I began two years ago about fictional people living their crazy lives in the Keys is now a mirror reflection of my life in many ways. No kidding. It was mind-blowing and nothing less when that realization hit. Many of the things that I'd "made up" have actually taken place/are unfolding in my own life. The parallels are unsettling and yet compelling.

Perhaps I should change the ending before it's too late?