Divided by a Common Language - News

BBC News America is an abomination.  If you can find BBC World News on your local PBS channel here in the US, watch that instead.  

BBC News America is BBC News dumbed down because some cretin clearly thinks that the existence of Fox News means all Americans are stupid.

Quote from tonight's news bulletin:

"Scientists are saying that the polar ice caps could melt in as little as not twenty, not ten but five years.  That's only five Memorial Days away."

This is an insult to the BBC, to the UK and to Americans.  On behalf of the UK, I'd like to apologize to all Americans for the imbecilic editor who is responsible for this drivel.  Mr Rome Hartman, stand up and take a bow, you condescending twit.

Quote Unquote

Bill is on a Lost in Translation trip in Japan.  

He committed the cardinal foreigner sin and ordered a foodstuff that is traditional in your home country but not in the one you're visiting.

He ordered bacon.

He told me that, when it came he took one look at it's color and coined a new phrase:

"I had to call it as I saw it - it was gray-con."

Divided by a Common Language - United by a Common Laziness

I felt better yesterday - like my cold was healing - so I did stuff.  It was a classic mistake - getting active before you've actually healed.  We all go back to work just that one day too early, right? 

And so today I feel as if a fallen angel with a scat fetish has taken a big dump on my soul.

Leave it to Fluffy Bear to cheer me up.  He told me that foreign guests in quarantined with Swine Flu - sorry, "A(H1N1) virus" - in the hotel in Hong Kong got gifts from their respective consulates.  

Because there was a guy who had a birthday, the French consulate sent Champagne, wine, food and even a French caterer to dish up something every day rather than have their citizens suffer the meals provided by the Hong Kong government Health Department.

By contrast: 

Other consulates have not had the budget to match France's treatment of its 14 nationals.

Dale Kreisher, a spokesman for the US consulate, said it had provided magazines and playing cards to the nine US citizens being held in quarantine.

The consulate was taking cash donations from staff so it could provide some "comfort foods" for those trapped.

A spokesman for the British Consul-General said they had provided fruit, magazines and books donated by consular staff to the 26 British nationals held in the hotel.

Reported on Yahoo News, Tuesday May 5, 2009

Yeap, you gotta hand it to the French.  They know the value of quality of life.  

Vive La France!

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 8.0

Still sick.

The cold has moved from my chest up into my nose, which is now streaming like a mini-tsunami.

If I think back to Shirley MacLaine's theory - which I have probably misquoted, but bear with me here - that this is dis-ease, then I am a little confused.  With the coughing and sore throat, I understand that perhaps I had something to get off my chest, what with being laid off last week.  But now I have something to get out of my nose?

OK, OK, I shouldn't always mock the tree-hugging Hippie crap.  There is something to a holistic view of the body, of the world.

So if my nose is streaming, maybe I have something that I need to let go of out of my head.

(Sidenote: Watching Sesame Street about penguins.  "There's no business like snow business" - LOL!  Waaay better than the IQ-lowering morning shows.)

OK, so what do I need to get out of my head?

(Hang on, I have to sing the Penguin song with Elmo...)

I'm back.  I shouldn't have tried to sing.  

Anyway...

My head, my head... what do I need to get out of my head?

I guess... negative thoughts?  Seems too obvious, really.  OK let's get them out there:

• It will take too long for FBear and I to find our next jobs and we'll run out of savings
• FBear and I won't find jobs in the same city
• I won't find a job
• I'll have to work for a lot less money
• I won't have the energy to look for a job

OK, enough.  Because I actually don't believe any of this.  We've been through way worse before (take a bow for the nice ladies and gentlemen, DotComBubbleBurst!) and we came out the other side with better jobs in a better place.  We're both better qualified, more savvy and still flexible about what we do and where we live.  We really are going to be just fine.

So.... Maybe I need to stop over-thinking this and accept I just have a cold.

OK.  I can do that.

So I'm cooking up a brew.  There's fresh grated ginger and fresh squeezed organic lemon juice and a fresh cinnamon stick.  Unfortunately I forgot to get honey so I had to carve some crystallized New Zealand stuff out of an old jar, but let's not be too fussy.

It's all stewing in water on the stove and I am enjoying thinking "Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble" when I stir it.  I am not actually saying it out loud, because I still sound like the bastard child of Kathleen Turner and James Earl Jones.

So never mind the excessive introspection, it's time to get some more witches brew, turn up the volume on Curious George and lay back on the couch.

Aaaaaaah....

Hello from Puppy Dog - OUCH!

Hello Friends...

Sniff!

I am sorry but this is going to be short post today.

Dogette bit me!  SHE BIT ME!

Talk about a bad house guest!

We were in the kitchen and Dada was going to give us treats and I stepped in front of her and next thing I know - FANG BANG!

I am a gentleman so of course I didn't snap back.

But it took Mama and Dada hours and hours and hours to find my open wound (you just can't get the staff these days!) and then they put sticky stuff on it.

Today it started to get very sore and I was moving very slowly.

Then Mama took me to the man who pokes me.  He's a nice man and he smells of lots of other dogs but - goddammit! - he always pokes me!

He made a lady shave my fur off... AGAIN!  Then I could smell my boo boo and the ooze coming out of it.  

But he also gave Mama pills which she gave me with peanut butter and I feel a little bit better.

But I'm still sulking.

And I am NOT talking to Dogette.

Bitch.

Too tired and sore for licks and woofs,

 

 

Puppy Dog

Quote Unquote - Success

"Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm." 

Winston Churchill

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 7.1

Fluffy Bear is also being given a package by his company, by mutual agreement.  This process started long before there was any inkling that I'd be laid off, but it finally seems to be moving forward.  

This is a very good thing for Fluffy Bear and now frees him up to do something really cool in an industry where he has an excellent reputation, a huge amount of knowledge and an even bigger mountain of contacts.

Interesting that we are both coming free at the same time....

Does this mean some kind of new start is in the air?

A new city?

A new country?

We've been here two and a half years - it's been nice but, if a new adventure is around the corner, I say LET"S GO!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOO.

This could be fun!

Being a Doggy Mama - Puppy Dog moments

I come out of the bathroom into the dining room.  I stop.

Dogette and Puppy Dog freeze.

They both look up at me, bodies quivering, tails wagging.

The carcass of a dead, plushy bunny is between them, one end in each of their jaws.

I look at them, they look at me.

I move into the kitchen.  

They start to growl at each other, and the game is on again.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 7.0

Somewhere in my lymph glands the right weapon to attack this particular virus was found and Operation Kill Cold was launched.  No doubt the battles were fierce and bloody - I don't know for sure, I was asleep. But the green splooge that is being hacked up means that the war is won!

It's a sign.

Time to quit whining.

Time to be pro-ACTIVE!

[Insert fanfare here]

The future career search will be divided into two workstreams:

1. It's the Economy Stupid!
2. Climb Every Mountain

The first is about getting that next job immediately.  Get the paycheck, make sure the job is bearable, that's about it.

The second is about taking some time to think about what I really want, what my ideal job would be and how I might make it happen.

The end result will probably be something that sits somewhere in the middle of those two - a job I get reasonably quickly that I pretty much like.

And so it's time to mindmap the personal network, research the organizations, start brushing up the resume.

I didn't tell you before but I actually had an interview a few days after I got canned, which was fantastic.   I felt great being immediately put forward for a role by a colleague, I enjoyed meeting the managers at the other firm, and it was nice to be reminded that there is a whole world out there ripe for exploration.

The role didn't pan out but that wasn't because of me - it's because the hiring firm chose someone put forward by another vendor.  I've still met those guys and had some interview practice and it's all good.

I have also decided that having this vile cold is a great opportunity to detox from nicotine.

Goddamn - when did I become so annoyingly positive?

Maybe I need me some Despondex. 

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 6.0

Some dear friends of ours came around for brunch today. Let's call them Jack and Jill.

Jill has just finished a contract and so, like me, is home during the day now, like me.

We were joking about our demise....

We've gone from Double Income, No Kids to Single Income No Kids.

From DINK... To SINK

Does that mean that, because they were here having brunch, that we were SYNCHING while we were SINKing?

Yeah, yeah, I know, I need to up my meds.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 5.1

After reading this post, you are going to know why I named my Blog the way I did.

So I'm sitting in the car, sore throat, tight chest, coughing, waiting for Fluffy Bear to pick up some takeout. And I start thinking about a Shirley MacLaine book I read years and years and years and years ago. I can't remember what it was called.

Anyway, she spoke about how disease is really dis-ease and how everything, ever person, every experience we bring into our lives is no accident - we brought it to ourselves because we need it, because we have something to learn from it.

In other words, if you are a dancer and you sprain your ankle, maybe you really didn't want to dance the lead and so you're giving yourself a way out.

So it follows that dis-ease can be healed by facing that will is putting us ill at ease.

So I began to think... my throat is sore, my chest hurts. Maybe I have something to say, someting to literally get off my chest.

And so I started to say it, all alone, there in the car.

"It shouldn't have been me."

I said it again and again and again and again. I emphasized different words. I backed up what I was saying with different thoughts:

• It shouldn't have been me that got canned - [X person] is way crappier at his job


• It shouldn't have been me - I've tried to work really hard to deliver results


• It shouldn't have been me - I had just started to find a good work-life balance


• It shouldn't have been me - what did I do wrong?

But the emotions didn't really surface. I didn't start to cry or get angry. I just felt removed from it all. Numb.

The only thing that happened was that this strange woman with a pudding bowl haircut walked past the car and raised both arms to wave at me. I don't know who she was. I am not sure she knew who I was.  She didn't smile.  It was very strange.

And I'm still getting stuff off my chest - and it's very, very gloopy.

Thanks a lot, Shirley MacLaine.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 5.0

Someone, somewhere, dared to breathe out their revolting germs and, immune system compromised by stress, I caught their cold.

And so.... If I take a deep breath I pay homage to Darth Vader, if I talk it conjures up Patty and Selma Bouvier and if you had to desribe my dress style you'd say I'm dolled up like Ugly Betty from a parallel universe where she lives in a trailer park,doesn't brush her hair and wears her food-stained gown all day. And every few minutes my chest contracts, my throat heaves and I spew out something that should only ever be a special effect in a horror film.

At moments like these, the Couch is the best place to be. Cable TV offers endless entertainment options, you can slip into a little nap whenever you want, and there's a convenient coffee table to hold all the medicine, tissues, water, hot tea, orange juice, hot water bottle.

So no research or job sites or outplacement firms today.

Just couch.

And coughing.

And asking Fluffy Bear to bring me things. Every cloud... (hehe)

He said, She said - Obey!

 

They were watching the Grey's Anatomy big wedding finale. Izzie was berating Shepherd about writing his vows for Meredith and told him that it was very important because his future wife would remember what he said for the rest of her life.

She said: "I have no memory of what we said to each other on our wedding day!"

He said: "I remember. I'm sure you said you'd obey."

She laughed till she cried.

To read more in this series, click here.

Hello from Puppy Dog - Dogette is coming!

Hello Friends!

My girlfriend, Dogette, is coming to day tomorrow! Her daddy has to go away and so she's coming to live with me!

We are going to have such fun, like we always do:

• When Mama gives us a bone each, we'll both drop ours, go over the other's and fight over it



• When Dada is on a work conference call, we'll have growly fights



• We'll pull in different directions whenever we get taken for a walk



• We'll both wolf down our dinner and then run to see if the other one has any food left we can steal



• We'll both jump up on the bed in the morning and take over all the space so Mama and Dada end up curled in little balls



• We'll run round and round the garden and bark until Mama has to come outside and tell us to shush



• Even though we'd normally be well behaved when getting treats, because there are two of us we'll almost bite off Mama's fingers when she gives them to us



• We'll both refuse to settle down and go to sleep



• We'll both bark and growl at the Postman, like a pack of rabid wolves

It's gonna be off the hook, BABY!

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog 

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Cube Feedback

In Diary of an Ex-Employee Day 3.0 I described the various fantasies I'd had about decorating my cube after I was canned from my job, and I asked for other ideas.

Thanks to everyone who's sending feedback!

More ideas for how I should have left my cube after I was canned:

• Fake bullet holes


• Fake blood spatter


• A bottle of red wine, a wine glass, a bowl of peanuts


• Deck chair, a bottle of sunscreen, a beach towel, sunglasses, a beach ball

Any more ideas? Answer in the comments or mail me at ittybittycrazy@gmail.com.

Being a Doggy Mama - Puppy Dog goes Commando

Today we went to hang out with Bill and Joe at our local haunt.

We decided to take Puppy Dog along with us because the pub lets people slip doggies in for a little bit sometimes and he hadn't had much fun today.

So we take him inside and get him into a corner behind our table. He's excited at first, sniffing things, saying hello to people, but eventually he lies down.

So we drink and we chat and we laugh and then I look down and see that Puppy Dog has crawled under my seat and is lying on the floor, head sticking out into the bar area a bit, but lying still.

Then I keep watching and I see that he is starting to sneak forward, stomach flat on the floor, commando-style, trying to get further towards the other people and their tasty, tasty food.

He's moving reeeeeeally slowly, inch by inch.

"I can see you!" I tell him softly.

He stands up, sighs, and licks my hand, defeated, saying sorry.

He's fecking hilarious.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Feedback

Various ideas are coming in about what I should have done to my cube when I left (see Day 3.0).

Fluffy Bear says I should have covered my desk in Plushy Guts, seeing as they ripped mine out...

You got any thoughts on what I should have left in my cube? Let me know in the Comments!

Couch Potato - Live Long and Prosper

Yes, Fluffy Bear dragged me to see the new Star Trek movie last night.

It was preview night so all the die hard fans were out.

We were in line in front of a very cute girl with green skin. She was, I am told, an Orion Slave Girl.

She was kinda pissed because no one else in the very long line was dressed up. All the dress up fans had gone to the earlier show and, as they walked out, we saw:

• An African American in a Star Trek uniform with red shirt


• A female Vulcan in a gold sequinned dress


• A very cute girl in a very short red Star Trek dress


• People who had dressed normally but added Spock ears

The male to female ratio in the line was very favorable to my sex, until you looked more closely and saw the calibre of the men in question. Yes it was geeksville.

The entire spectrum was there, from the reasonably OK looking geek who seems like a viable mate he opens his mouth, through the kiddie-faced-socially-inept geek all the way to the long-greasy-haired-pot-bellied-beared-and-slightly-sweaty-smelling geek.

Still, it was fun to see a line for the Men's toilets and none for the women's. Finally!

We got good seats, but weren't prepared for the Fully Loaded Aspergers Experience that awaited us. Behind us sat two young men who started the evening with the geek version of penis comparison - discussing obscure science fiction movies and seeing who can remember particular scenes/facts better. During the main feature, they felt it was very important to give each other the benefit of an instant review of the the Director's choices. Thank God the sound was turned up pretty loud or I think someone would have organized a geek posse to take them down with a Vulcan Nerve Pinch.

The audience was very enthusiastic, whooping at the previews for Transformers and Terminator, booing at Angels and Demons and snorting derisively at G.I. Joe. The start of Star Trek itself was drowned in "woooos" and clapping. The appearance of Leonard Nimo was cheered as was - encouragingly - Simon Pegg. It was all very entertaining.

Loyal fans are hard to please. They know everything about how things were set up and why, and the slightest disloyalty, pandering or evidence of Director Hubris (e.g. "re-imagineering") is considered a crime punishable by Phasers set to Kill.

Everyone seemed very happy, which was a relief, not least of all because it meant I went home with an ecstatic Fluffy Bear, rather than one who would explain to me, for the next three days, all the things that were wrong, and why.

And, Simon Pegg was funny.

He he he.

Being a Doggy Mama - Funny Moments with Puppy Dog 2

Funny Moments with Puppy Dog No. 1 is here.

And here are a few more...

1. I wake up this morning and roll over. Puppy Dog is doing the same, on his back, legs in the air, moving his butt from side to side, airing his junk and streeeetching out. Great to start the day with a laugh!



2. Last night we got home late from seeing the new Star Trek movie and both lay on the bed with Puppy Dog between us. He had his new rubber ball in his mouth. It's bigger than a tennis ball and won't break or squish down much when he chews it, so he ends up constantly moving it around in his mouth, catching and recatching it in his jaws, while he pants through his nose. He sounds like Darth Vader.



3. If Puppy Dog lies on the bed, like a Sphinx, and wags his tail, the end of it, which curls over like a question mark, tickles my feet.



4. Puppy Dog doesn't just lick, he nibbles Fluffy Bear's ear. Hearing a 6ft 5, 260 pound man squeal with laughter is delightful.



5. If you call Puppy Dog over to you, don't bend over, because he comes running and jumps up, head-butting you in the chin.



6. Puppy Dog has a special spot - there's one on each side of his neck. There must be glands there or a pleasure centre or something because, if I scratch it, he bends his head to the side and pushes his muzzle forward, stretching his lips out. I call it "Fish Face." If I give him Fish Face, his corresponding back leg goes crazy and, if he's standing up, he collapses to the ground. If I need to calm him down, I bring out Fish Face.



7. He knows where his balls are hidden. If we take one away from him and put it up on a shelf, he knows it's there, even days later. So there you are, walking through the house, and Puppy Dog is standing in the kitchen, staring at the top of the refrigerator because he's bored and he wants his ball and it's up there and he's waiting for you to get it down and play.



8. Puppy Dog points. You'll be walking through the park and he smells his nemesis, Squirrel. He freezes, he lifts one leg, he shakes from head to toe. It's hilarious.



9. Puppy Dog slips and slides on our wooden floors. Fluffy Bear is, as I type, pioneering the Soft Ball Throw from the couch. In the past, we've thrown the ball as hard as possible, so it bounces off the bedroom door or the wall and he gets to jump this way and that to follow it. The Soft Ball Throw, however, lets him catch it in the middle of the dining room, and he then goes sliding into the wall. Yes, it's kinda mean, but it's funny.



10. The only thing meaner than the Soft Ball Throw is the Double Ball Throw. This was pioneered by a friend, Tony, who threw - you guess it - two tennis balls at the same time and watched Puppy Dog try to catch one, then the other, then subdue them one by one with some good chewing, then fit them both in his mouth before prancing back, triumphant, with his captured prey.

Ah, DOG is love.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 4.0

Today began with housework.

Might as well get used to it - the Cleaner (she's amazing) is going to have to go. I unpacked the dishwasher, put newly dirtied stuff into it, washed up the stuff that shouldn't go in there, gathered up glasses and cups that were sitting around the house... sound boring and mundane? It was.

I also put empty cans of Canada Dry soda water in the recycling pile. Will have to say goodbye to that - tap water from now on.

I know, I know, I am sure you think I am being a Petty Pouty Princess. Kazillions of people clean their own houses. But, you see, that's not the point.

I call it the Princess and the Pea syndrome.

It doesn't matter if you are rich or poor, male of female, celebrity or nobody. Unwanted change hurts.

A few days ago, an e-friend (someone I only know online) posted a link to this article about a TARP wife (spouse of a bailed out banking CEO) with the comment "Oh Boo Hoo!" I know it's easy to deride those who seem more fortunate (a.k.a. rich) than us when they fall on hard times. "Now you bloody well know what it feels like for the rest of us" is the general way of thinking.

But - and I hate to break it to you - no, they don'tknow what it feels like to be you. No one knows your particular pain, challenges, triumphs. And - by the same token - you shouldn't presume to know theirs.

We all live our own lives, go through our own experiences, but empathy comes from what we have in common - our shared basic emotions, fears, joys.

• TARP Wife has to try to continue to be strong, to look like everything is OK so that she can remain part of her social set, or she'd be ousted and alone = Fear of being rejected from the tribe


• TARP Wife wonders if she is going to lose people, people that she loves, that she saw every day. Will they stay in touch now opportunities for contact aren't so convenient? = Sadness at the thought of missing people you care about


• TARP Wife is worried that her life will change, that she will have to more into new territory she doesn't know how to navigate = Fear of the of unknown


• TARP Wife knows that doing new things, in new ways, is going to be hard. She's wondering if she can handle this - can she be strong enough? = Basic insecurities


• TARP Wife still goes to the charity events, but cannot contribute like before, which is humiliating = Embarrassment in front of peers


• TARP Wife isn't sure how bad this is all going to get. She didn't see this coming so who knows what else lies in wait, growling low and threatening in the dark? Is something more coming? How much is coming? Will it all add up to so much that it takes her down, and she never finds a way back to this place, this life that she worked so hard to build? No insurance policy covers this! = Fear of losing everything you worked so hard for

No, I'm not a TARP Wife. But I guess losing a well-paid white collar job makes me TARP Wife Ultra Lite.

And so, yes, I hate doing housework. Not only because I have a low disgust threshold and a high physical-activity-laziness quotient, but because it's a sign that things have changed, things are less sure, adjustments and compromises will have to be made.

And it's scary.

And it's sad.

And it sucks.