Undeserved Apologies

On Friday, I had to get an x-ray and was sent to a hospital to get it done.  Many hospitals are so big that they're like "a college" in that they're more than one building. That was the case for my x-ray. Afterwards, I was trying to get a car to take me to my next destination. I walked outside of the building, read the address on it, and entered that.  The driver called me saying he couldn't find me. I was confused. I was RIGHT outside. I was waiting near a white, Loomis money truck. It was literally the ONLY vehicle parked anywhere on the block. But the driver could not find me. Was he BLIND?  How could this be? I was getting more and more frustrated. I double-checked that the address on the building was in fact the address I'd entered. It was. We went round and round.

Finally the driver found me. I was wrong.  Because the address on the building was wrong. The address of the building was 16th Street. You could exit the building from the front or the back. The front was 16th Street, but I'd unknowingly exited out the back and so was on 15th Street. Since I wasn't near an intersection, I couldn't see a street sign saying that. When I got into the car, and the driver explained, and then pointed to the front of the building as we drove past it, I apologized profusely.

But no, he apologized to me for not guessing what I meant. Can you believe that? I feel like these days people are so quick to blame others, find fault, and to have someone take the hit for what was not his fault was unusual.

Last week was a little busy, and I wasn't able to get to the pharmacy to pick up a refill of medication I needed until Saturday morning. Over the last week I got like, four or five texts from the pharmacy saying it was ready. When I showed up yesterday, they didn't have anything for me.  The guy apologized, confused. I whipped out my phone and showed him the texts. After my address kurfluffle the day prior at the hospital, I confirmed that I was in fact, at the correct pharmacy. I was. After a bit of poking through his computer, the pharmacist realized that when nobody had shown up to claim my medicine, they put it back in the "pool".  He asked if I minded waiting while they filled my prescription.  Of course not. He apologized again that it wasn't ready for me.  Once again, this was my fault.  For not picking the medicine up in a timely manner. Once again, the other person was profusely apologizing for something that wasn't their fault.

I don't know what to make of this. Maybe there's nothing to make of it. 

You Are ... So Beautiful ... To Me...

A while ago, Turkey decided that the professional photo taken of him that's on the firm's website was no good, and he wanted it redone. So even though it was only done three years ago, the firm allowed him to sit for another photo shoot.  Nobody asked me, but if they had, they'd have heard me saying I think he looks exactly the same as he did three years ago.  Guess who found the email with the proofs?! And guess who couldn't resist and took a pic with her cell phone?! That's right. I did it.

He looks like a Republican pedophile with an awkward hairline caught pooping while wearing a suit, who tries to make the best of being caught by grinning/grimacing. It's not pretty, is what I'm saying. But it sure is funny! (Remember that grimace Dick Cheney used to make when he'd try to smile?  Every time I would see that, I would think, "That is what a pedophile looks like.")

Anyway, the lady in Marketing who arranged this stopped by my desk a few weeks ago on another matter, and let it slip that Turkey requested that they blow up his favorite picture of himself, and frame it. And she was like, "Um, that is not a service this law firm provides, sorry. Have you tried Walgreens?"

Then last week Turkey wanted for us to go to lunch together. Alone. I tried to talk various people into joining us to no avail. I tried to "reschedule" due to the pouring rain. Nope. So off we went, with Turkey carrying a brown paper grocery bag. We went to a restaurant that Turkey has been to many times before. He asked the waiter nine questions about the menu (which had not changed recently). I started counting after question four. His questions were one step above things like, "Now the ice water - is that cold?" Turkey ultimately ordered three things.

I was able to start our lunch off on the right foot, by genuinely thanking Turkey.  In a departmental meeting, he mentioned the Netflix series The Crown, and suggested it was quite good and I should watch it. I wound up devouring the series, and absolutely LOVING it. So I was able to chat with Turkey all about the monarch and such. Then we moved on to the next portion of the lunch - work gossip. This involved Turkey mentioning people and asking me what I thought THEY thought about him. This segued nicely into the second-to-last portion of lunch, where Turkey and I took turns complimenting Turkey. I lied a lot during those two portions of lunch.

Last was the gift-giving portion of lunch. Turkey reached into his grocery bag and gave me a box.  In the same way that a seven year-old girl who's just read Flicka and Black Beauty hopes for a horse, I was hoping Turkey was giving me a framed picture of himself. Because wouldn't that be hilarious? To have a picture of an ugly man who is vehemently hated by many he works with, sitting on my desk.  And the best part is, Turkey is exactly the type to do that. So it's not like I was hoping for a unicorn - this dream really had potential of coming true.

Alas, it did not. Maybe next year. No, this time I was given a book of Doonesbury cartoons that all feature Donald Trump. I'm thinking it was a re-gift, because there is no possible way Turkey saw this in a store and thought, "I should get this for my secretary!" Oh well. At least I got a free lunch from a nice restaurant out of it all. 

The More Things Change ...

Turkey is so much better at this firm.  He's so much more appropriate in his dealings with employees. He's on time more than 50% of the time. He loses things much less often, and when he does lose them, they're often easily found. It's amazing to see how far he's come. But then there are those other times when he does something to make it clear that calling him a turkey really IS the right nickname for him here.

A few months ago, all the attorneys had to do sexual harassment training. One of the HR people and I talked about it, and I asked her if whoever was giving the presentation could tell all the attorneys that a gay attorney CAN in fact be sexually harassing a straight employee, and their gayness does not automatically exempt them from saying inappropriate things. Because Turkey does.

On Friday afternoon, Turkey and I were trying to fill out the form needed to get a new client up and running. He'd told me to write one thing, and then told me to write something else. I confirmed he wanted to change that line. "A girl can change her mind, right?" Now, I know this is a gay guy thing to do - to refer to himself as a woman, and I know Turkey is gay, but he'd never done this particular thing before. Clearly, Turkey was feeling a little extra saucy Friday afternoon.

We got a famous client, and I think he was a little giddy over that. (The guy isn't super famous - he's more the sibling of someone famous who you probably never think of. It's not very exciting. So far, he seems very normal.) Turkey even had asked me if I really thought we should charge him a retainer. I voted absolutely. Turkey was worried it would be considered insulting. I argued that we charge everyone a retainer unless we have a prior relationship with them, and famous people, unless they're raging egomaniacs, want to be treated just like everyone else is treated. He agreed with me. I give good legal advice to lawyers.

At the very end of the day on Friday, I was finishing up some work while Turkey was leaning on my counter talking to me. Apropos of nothing, he asked me if the gay guy who sits next to me is gay. Half of me was shocked to be asked that, and half of me was not at all surprised Turkey would ask such an inappropriate question. I shrugged. He then asked me if a cute, straight paralegal was gay. I shrugged again.

I adamantly believe that you do NOT expose someone's sexuality. Maybe it's because I'm Jewish - a minority that has been persecuted - but I'd like to think even if I weren't, it would not be my place to share anything about a person that has gotten others like them killed for sharing that information.

There are many days, often in a row, where I have a lovely workday. I must never let myself get lulled into a false sense of security. I must never, never forget that Turkey will be inappropriate at some point. 

Turkey Had a Very Turkey Day Today

(Nothing to do with Thanksgiving, in case you're new. Sorry.)

At this firm, Turkey is forced to be better. Less crazy. More self-sufficient. I still do a lot of things for him most attorneys do for themselves. Like, I enter his time. He emails me documents to save on the system. I look up phone numbers for him within our directory. But overall, he loses fewer things. He throws people under the bus less often. He lies less often. Turkey just screws up less these days.

But today was a doozy. Let us count the ways ...

1. This morning I came in and found an email from a coworker/friend in our Risk Management department, forwarding an email Turkey sent last night to the entire Risk Management team, plus the CEO of the firm, plus the General Counsel, claiming I said something I didn't say at all. See, each time we're sending out an engagement letter it's supposed to be a form letter, but Turkey always changes it so much that he often leaves the firm open to risk. So they decided all his engagement letters have to be reviewed before being sent to a client. We also have disengagement letters, when a matter has ended. I spoke with the head of Risk Management about these and he told me the important language they need to have. As long as they say that, he doesn't really care what else they say. That's what I told Turkey yesterday. That disengagement letters don't need to be seen by Risk Management before going out. He emailed all these people though, claiming I said nobody has to review engagement letters, non-engagement letters (different from dis-engagement letters) anymore.  I was livid. I went straight up to the General Counsel to speak with him about this. He talked me off the ledge and five minutes later I was sure that the firm was not about to fire me. But holy shit, what a way to start your day. 
2. Ironically, while Turkey was worrying about what I am doing in relation to risk management, he sent an email to clients and accidentally cc'd the opposing counsel on the case.  Yeah. Worry more about yourself, Turkey. 
3. Turkey and I have this system wherein everything I need him to sign goes into a bright yellow folder, and we pass that back and forth to each other, multiple times a day. Often Turkey takes it home at the end of the day to review and sign letters I've prepared, and then hands it back in the morning. Yesterday I gave Turkey the folder with about half a dozen letters, one of which included a check that needed to go out. Today, Turkey told me he lost the folder and to re-create the letters. Just figuring out which letters needed to be re-created took me almost an hour alone! But I do it, put them all in a manilla folder and give him that.  I ask him to please look again for the yellow folder because we really need that check to go out to the client. He shrugs. I look a little harder at the mess that is the piles on his desk. I see a smidge of bright  yellow, and slowly pull out the folder.  "Oops," Turkey smiles at me. What does he care? He didn't just re-do work. 
4. We've been working on an agreement for months. There are many, many versions of this same document. Some redlined with tons of changes, some clean (changes accepted). Today, Turkey realized that he made a ton of redlined changes and never saved them. So I had to spend two hours retyping all these changes off a printed document, that had already been typed in.  Just such a huge waste of time. Turkey told me this needed to go to the client today. I asked him if there was any way he could get an extension from the client - that this was such a mess I didn't think we should rush through it, risking embarrassment by sending anything with mistakes. I should not rush the edits, and he should not rush the review. Luckily, I got Turkey to agree. Of course he agreed. He always tells me "The clients wants this before the end of the day" when really he just wants it done by then. I don't really care that Turkey lies about this. I'm just satisfied we're not going to send out a subpar product to a client. 

Hopefully on Monday Turkey will have pulled his shit together a bit more. That way I can move on to telling you all about my good news involving a baby lawyer. 

Squeaky

There's so much to tell you, and I barely know where to start! Firstly, I got to meet someone I met through blogging. Who lives in DENMARK! Because she came to the Americas! Each time I've met someone off the interwebs, there's always a little hesitation - will they be crazy? will it be painfully awkward? will we both be trying to figure out the quickest and most graceful way to get away? But meeting Jennie and her husband was pure joy. Pure. Joy. They were so fun and funny and easy-going and interesting, and and and!

Secondly, it's five months in, and I'm still working with Turkey. He's ... still a turkey. That's never going to change. But working with him at a big law firm provides a buffer for me that was sorely lacking in the other place. He cares very much about what others think of him, so having others around keeps Turkey in check to a small degree.

About a month ago the firm did evaluations and raises/bonuses. I'd barely been permanent for a month so assumed there'd be none for me. Wrong. Turkey and the midwestern girl reviewed me. I had to sit with the HR lady while she handed me the reviews they wrote. Then she told me since I'd just started, they couldn't justify giving me a raise. However, they did want me to feel appreciated, so she went to the head honchos and got them to give me a bonus.

Here's how I envision it went down:
HR: We should give Green a bonus.
Head Honchos: Who now?
HR: You know - the one who's working with Turkey.
HH: Oh, shit. Yes! Here's $20 from me.

And I imagine she just went to every single partner, and then each associate, and then each employee who has ever had to deal with Turkey, getting $20 from each person, pulling together my bonus.

Lastly, today, like most days, Turkey was wearing leather shoes that squeak with every step. We can hear him coming from all the way down the hall. Squeak, squeak, squeak. Everywhere he goes, we can hear him squeak along. At one point, Turkey squeaked his way out of his office, right as a call came in for him. Without even thinking about it, I inquired to the girl who sits next to me, "Where'd Squeaky go?" She was being given instructions by a partner who overheard, and he kind of snickered as he kept talking, and then all three of us were giggling.

The best part was, Turkey was close by - I just couldn't see him! (He didn't hear me.) 

He's Baaaaaa-aaaaaack!

A little over a month ago, I interviewed at what is one of my two dream law firms to work at. It's rare for a firm to have a great reputation among both lawyers AND support staff, but both of these do. The job wasn't as a legal secretary, but I thought I could do it, and was definitely qualified for it. Weirdly, it's the firm Turkey works at. The firm he took the baby lawyer (from the Midwest) and the WASP associate to.

The baby lawyer is not such a baby lawyer anymore, and we've stayed in touch through Facebook. She's actually the one who told me about this opening. I didn't get it. I was devastated. At the time, I was temping at a mortgage company. The HR woman at the law firm left me a voicemail, and I contemplated not calling her back. I didn't need to hear I didn't get the job again. But I did, and what happened next was bizarre. She told me this was the most awkward professional conversation of her life, but ... they'd just had to fire Turkey's secretary, and well ... since I interviewed they knew I was looking for a job, so if I was interested ...?

Now, Turkey and I did not leave things on the best note. I refused to sign his confidentially agreement and gave up his severance as a final "fuck you" to him. So I asked the HR lady what Turkey thought about this idea. She hadn't floated it by him yet. I told her "If he's enthusiastic, I'm game." Nobody told me outright, but I think it was more like lukewarm.

So for the last four weeks I've been temping at my dream law firm, for the most nightmarish attorney to ever walk the earth. It's ... weird. It's hard. In some ways, Turkey is better. Running your own business is a lot of work, and now that stress is off him. He's less frazzled. In some ways though, Turkey is worse. Attorneys break out of law firms and set up their own for one of two reasons: either they think they can create a better law firm than what they come from, or they can't hack falling into line with firm policies. Turkey was the latter, and I can see those problems here.

For example, this firm encourages people to be as paperless as possible. Turkey actually told me "I don't do two-sided emails. Don't print any out for me like that." Also, sometimes partners have to get things approved by other partners. Turkey didn't want that to apply to him. "Just submit it anyway; I don't want to bother with that." So I did. Naturally, it got rejected for lack of second-partner-approval. Turkey acted shocked.

The good thing is, nobody has lasted very long with Turkey, so everyone is rooting for me. Have you ever felt like you were being hugged by an entire law firm full of people? That's what working here is like. Everyone is so supportive and encouraging. Well, everyone except Turkey. He's negative and quick to blame. No shock there.

So. What's new in your life? 

Change is Hard

This non-profit gig is outrageously difficult. Not because of the money. Hey wait, can we talk about something? I never understand those people who put in different amounts of effort based on how much they get paid. My effort is like a light-switch. It's either on or off. I can't look at this temp job and think, "I'm going to do a shitty job putting this huge file together because they don't pay me enough to do a good job." I just bitch about how the huge file became such a mess.

Here are the most difficult things about this job:

1. The style of speech is different. I've "grown up" in law firms as an adult. Since 20 years old, this is all I've done. Lawyers are very direct. I understand the way lawyers in law firms speak. But at this non-profit, they kind of pride themselves on a relaxed atmosphere and that comes through in their style of speech. So instead of saying "Please file this in the Lindenberry file before you leave today," they say things like "Maybe this could be put away if there's time." That's too vague! Did you want ME to put it away? WHERE do you want it put? I've already fucked up one big project because the instructions were too vague for me. (Part of this is a learning disability thing - a comprehension issue - but most of it is the vague-speak.) I think the attorney was upset with my final product yesterday, and it put me in a bad mood. Today I did what she'd originally wanted, and gave myself a stern talking-to about really listening hard for instructions that don't sound like instructions. 
2. There is no system for anything. Including training new employees. There are no templates. There's no standard. So when I got told to draft a cover letter and I asked what format to duplicate, the response was to just ... make it look nice. Ummm .... what now? You know what looks nice? When every single letter from one company uses the same format! So I just copied the format from the last letter that went to the same guy last month. The easiest things are proving hardest for me here. Like yesterday, I had a four-page document to save and print, but only the first of the four pages would print or save. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why.
3. It's a non-profit. They look to save money however they can. Even if they can't. So for example, there's only one IT guy. He only works three days a week. I can't even begin to wrap my head around this one. Is he on call the other two days? Working from home? I mean, what if the entire system crashes on a day he doesn't work?  There is a certain type of pad I like to use at work that basically every single law firm carries. Not this place. Here I have to use a steno pad. Why? Steno pads are cheaper. Nobody even writes in steno anymore! All the old lady secretaries who used to do this have retired by now. Today I noticed a big spill in the elevator. It was a lawsuit waiting to happen. I mentioned it to the receptionist, so she could tell maintenance or the facilities manager or whoever. Her response? "I can wipe that up." I was so embarrassed - if she can wipe it up, so can I! I just thought there'd be a dude with a mop somewhere. Because it's a non-profit I thought maybe he does janitorial stuff AND something else, but surely there'd be a dude. There's always a dude! But no. Apparently the dude is the receptionist. 

So yeah. I've spoken with the nice secretary sitting next to me. She started at the beginning of July. She's given me great gossip and been very helpful, though I try to not bother her too much since she's swamped. But she did tell me that the guy who had the job before me got fired, and why. And that the pay is terrible. And that the lack of organizational structure is very difficult to work around. 

Everyone is very nice. I'm trying to focus on the positives. While I struggle to figure out really basic things like how to make labels for files, and wrap my head around the lack of professionalism like hand-writing addresses on envelopes rather than typing them. 

Weak Work

This has not been an easy year, to put it mildly. I have not worked since early 2014. That's not a typo. Each evening I go for a walk just to get out of my house, and stop staring at the same walls all the time. When I'm not working and can't afford to go out, I withdraw from friends, from everyone. Of course, it's a terrible cycle, because being alone fuels the depression. Being around people fuels the depression too - people don't realize how much they talk about things that cost money.

Lately I've been working with this young recruiter - one of those lawyers who didn't want to lawyer, so she became a legal recruiter instead. I don't think she's ever worked as an associate since graduating from law school, and between that and being in her mid-twenties, it's been a frustrating experience to interact with her.

Once though, I had an interview with this old lady headhunter, and afterwards I said, "It felt like I was talking to a slick, brick wall. Nothing I threw to her stuck." I figured it was a waste of time and nothing at all would ever come of that interview. She placed me at the best job I've had in all the time I've lived in San Francisco. So I've learned not to give up on people too quickly.

This morning she called me about a job. Almost apologetically she explained the details. Non-profit. For those who don't know, any job that's a non-profit job pays significantly less. Like, half of what you earn now. Part-time. Four hours a day. Temp work. Just for four weeks. She basically told me flat out that she knows it's beneath me. Um, no. I am desperate. No honest work is beneath me. "Okay," she said. She would pitch me to the non-profit. She would let me know in the afternoon if they want me to start work tomorrow.

At 5:01 p.m. I looked at the clock and thought to myself, "Guess they went with someone else." Literally right after I let out a sad sigh, my phone rang. I'm to show up tomorrow. For pay that is literally half what I normally get on an hourly basis. But it's more than nothing, and that absolutely counts. Every single dollar that puts me farther away from eviction is a dollar that makes me happy. 

Compassion Fatigue

I've got some of this going on. I've decided that's what caused me to think "That's IT?" upon reading that a girl got raped by her father in a book.

Here's the thing: ever since 9/11, I've become someone who gets teary very easily. Which is weird, since before then I rarely cried. But since 2001, anything - happy or sad - can bring me to tears. And I'm emotionally exhausted. If I see two old ladies run into each other at the supermarket who haven't seen each other in years and get all excited and hug, I get teary. If I watch a Lifetime movie it makes me cry. If I see two toddlers holding hands, I get verklempt. If I see someone pick something up for someone else, I get teary. It's just too much! I'm freaking exhausted!

I don't really know how to dial it all back. I'm reading less news. (Sorry if I'm dumber when we're talking.) I'm not watching the tearjerker videos people link on Facebook anymore. I'm not reading the emotional Op-ed articles. When one old lady gives another a second look that says "Do I know you? Judy?" I block her line of vision. Just kidding.

My hope is that all this will sort out my emotions a little bit. If you have any ideas, I'm interested for sure.

I shocked myself

Actually, I once did literally shock myself, in my childhood kitchen. I was unplugging a computer and accidentally pulled the silver part of the plug.

But when I wrote this title, I was thinking of something else. For the last few months, I haven't been able to read. Since I learned how, I've been a voracious reader. The librarians recognize me at the little library down the street. It's been a once-a-week thing for most of my adult life. Yet all of a sudden, each time I picked up a book, it seemed boring and I couldn't finish. Hell, I couldn't make it past the first chapter.

Now sure, every once in a while, you accidentally pick up a clunker. These things happen. Either a book everyone raved about doesn't quite do it for you, or an author you've always liked suddenly burns out or tries to write in a new direction and it doesn't work. This was something else. After a few books of this, I just gave up on reading. I didn't know what else to do.

Last week, I decided this is just unacceptable. I refuse to be someone who is not a reader. My plan was to start super duper simple, and work back up to my regular simple books. So I marched myself six blocks to the library, determined to get a John Grisham or Danielle Steel book. Under normal circumstances, both of those authors infuriate me with their predictable plots. All Danielle Steel's main characters are the same - a physically tiny woman who is beautiful and suffers great tragedies and great fortunes. The women are always described as living simple lives, which are actually the lives of the 1%. You know, because they think they'll "only" fly first class for their yearly visit to London or New York or Paris. Where they've been going for so many years that the people who work there know the main character's name. Normally, drives me nuts. Naturally, I figured this simplistic type of plot-line was just what I needed to get back on track.

However, what caught my eye was a Nora Roberts book, and even though I consider those books to be on the same level as Danielle Steel's books, reading a Nora Roberts book didn't make me hate myself quite as much. To be honest, the book was good. I read it in two days. Achievement unlocked.

Two days ago it was time for another trip to the library to trade up. I grabbed a biography by some woman whose father had been a mildly famous writer a few decades ago. According to the adult daughter, the father sexually abused her. The book seems to be about her relationship with her father. Then I read that he raped her when she was seven. That was when I did something that shocked me. I thought, "That's it?"

Um, excuse me? That is a completely unacceptable thought to have about a little girl being raped! What the fuck is wrong with me? Have I read so many articles and blog stories (and seen Lifetime movies) about rape that I've become desensitized to it?  Now I have a lot of wacky ideas and thoughts - I'm the girl who giggles when people trip - and normally I'm fine with that. This one though, I'm more than not fine with. Not by a long shot.

I'm not sure where to go with this. For now, I've put that book aside. I'm pretty sure all these articles and talks about rape are meant to "raise awareness" and change the way society views rape. It seems like it hasn't worked the right way for me. All the articles about the thousands and thousands of rape kits untested? The fraternities that make up rape songs? Maybe it's similar to that "If I don't laugh, I'll cry" mentality? Whatever the case, having a "that's it?" reaction to rape is not okay with me, and needs to change. Immediately. 

We Are Not Idiots

When I was in tenth grade, my marketing teacher offended me while showing us a movie in class. It wasn't the specific movie that was the problem. It was the fact that she showed the movie over several days, and each day after the first, she would rewind the movie by 15-20 minutes to "remind everyone what was happening." It offended me so much that she thought we couldn't remember what was happening for 24 hours.  Looking back, it's clear she just didn't feel like teaching and was trying to drag out the movie as much as possible. Also offensive.

Bitchy gossipy moment: I am 38. That teacher is on Facebook, and claims she's 41. I was 15 when she was my teacher. Grow up woman! Own your age.

For the last several years, I've noticed tv shows do this as well. The first minute of a tv show recaps what happened on the last episode. What the fuck? We can remember what happened a week ago. This is just ridiculous and once again, I'm offended.

Still Got It

When I was 12, I started babysitting. My first babysitting kid was a one-year old named Andrew who called himself Ah-new. After he'd go to sleep, I would watch VH1's Standup Spotlight or whatever it was called. Rosie O'Donnell hosted, and what I remember most are two things:

1. That I wished she wouldn't bother introducing other comedians, and she would just do all the comedy for the entire show; and
2. That she would stop introducing every single comedian by saying, "Coming to the stage right now, is a very funny friend of mine ..."

To this day I'm very sensitive about tossing around the term "friend" and was the same way as a 12 year old. I was sure she couldn't possibly be friends with ALL those comedians. I had no understanding of the comedy circuit - that they all played the same clubs, all studied at Groundlings or that other place together - and that they truly were, all friends.

When Rosie got her talk show, I was thrilled. Of course, I thought she overdid talking about her crush on Tom Cruise so much (maybe that was my gaydar that I didn't know existed?), but still found her hilarious. As I am, she was from Long Island. She never watered down her thick New York accent. Like Rosie Perez, or Tony Danza, it was part of her schtick.

Eventually I kind of ... forgot about her? Kathy Griffin has been so much more prominent the last decade or so. Everyone including me loves Jimmy Fallon. Lately I've been digging Michael McIntyre for comedy, though I seem to be the only American who knows of him.

Recently though, Rosie was in the news for getting a divorce, and then doing a comedy special last month. I just watched it (on Youtube) and you know what? She's just as funny as she was when I was 12. Maybe I'm wildly immature, but maybe, just maybe she can appeal to a 12 year old AND a 38 year old all at the same time. I wish she did more comedy specials. I don't need to see her argue with Elizabeth Hasselback.

*The only thing I didn't like about her comedy special was how much time she spent making jokes about her 18 yr old's penis. I was embarrassed for him. Rosie O'Donnell is so funny she could have spent that time joking about so many other things without talking about that. 

If You Don't Like It, Don't Read It

People say this all the time. Usually when someone comments on a blog with something negative, the blog writer or their "fans" will throw it at the commenter.

I read blogs to see what life is like for people who are different than I am. I already know what I'm like. I want to see what other people are like. Sometimes, they're so different that I don't even understand them. Sometimes, I'm shocked by what they present as a given.

There is a blog called Wardrobe Oxygen. I follow it on Facebook (okay and Instagram), along with almost 7,000 other people. The writer of the blog has a style that is wildly different from mine and even from what I wish mine was.  She often highlights new lines by designers. The other day she posted a picture of a dress that was just ... horrific, in my opinion. I could see it being in a compilation of Nightmare Bridesmaids Dresses or something. Being torn to shreds (threads?) on Fashion Police. Really, just awful.

My comment was "Whoa, so ugly!" Then, the "foot in the mouth" moment happened. The blog owner replied, "Really? I own it." Whoops. Had I known she owned the dress I'd have just kept my opinion to myself. But I hadn't so I needed to own that opinion. So I explained what part of the dress bothered me, found something about it to be nice about, and she replied essentially saying it looks better on a person with a different body type. That was it.

Except that all day yesterday I kept running the interaction through my mind. Wasn't sure why. When I woke up this morning it was clear. I disagreed, and she didn't tell me to stop reading. She engaged me, and tried to get me to see her side. She never suggested that I leave, she didn't block me, we just ... had an exchange. I so respect how she handled it. I was really a bit of a bitch. This could have gone in a very different direction, but I'm glad it didn't.

Note to self: do not insult anything until you are sure the person you're speaking to does not own it.

It Happened To Me: I Was Sexually Harassed in a Train Station

What magazine was that feature from, Sassy? It was maybe 6pm in the evening and I was waiting for my train. There was a man standing about three feet from me. I'd purposely walked over and stood near him. While we were waiting for the train, two boys walked by us. They were probably in their late teens. One made a comment about my boobs as they walked. His friend didn't really even react. I didn't outwardly react either, although I wanted to. I didn't say anything back because it was two against one (and I was scared that I'd knock him onto the train tracks) and I was too shocked it had happened at all.

Here's what I would have liked to say: Really, Asshole? You think you're so cool to make a comment about a woman's body while walking by with a friend? You can't even walk without holding up your pants. Why don't you worry about your own clothes before commenting on how mine fit on my body? But even if your pants did fit your body properly, shut the fuck up. My body isn't here for your review and comments. Keep your comments to yourself. Nobody, not even your friend, cared about your opinion. Did you notice that? Take the hint. I guarantee if you had to stand against a wall silently I could make you cry with the things I could say about your body.

I'm now 38. I'm a big girl. This did not devastate or scare me. By tonight when I go to sleep, I'll have forgotten about it. I will easily move on from this experience. But you, Asshole? You'll be an asshole long after tonight. So even though you put me down, ultimately, you lose. 

Humbling

Today I applied for a job. It has a salary range. The highest end of the range is over $20k lower than my last job (GQ) paid, and he paid $3k less than Turkey did.

I'm not going to lie. It really hurts. It's a job in a law firm, so I spent at least an hour in bed last night whispering my answer to the interview question "why do you want a job that pays so significantly less than what you were earning before?"

It's hard to come up with a good answer.

1. Well look when I was working - clearly I can't be picky. (Attracts attention to gap in resume)
2. I want something lower pressure. (Being a legal secretary is not high pressure)
3. I wanted to try something new within the legal industry. (Attracts attention to my lack of experience)
4. I thought it would be fun to expand my experience. (Will they be offended that I want to use their job for fun?)
5. Ugh, because I am desperate and just need a fucking job for my mental health already! (Overshare)

So yeah. I need to prepare for an interview for a job that I both need and don't want. Oh, and the person who brought this position to my attention warned me they've had trouble keeping people in the seat because there's zero room for advancement.

But it pays significantly more than nothing. It even pays more than double what unemployment pays (which is no good for my mental health, plus provides no health insurance, plus runs out). So I will continue working to come up with an answer to why I want this job to be prepared for an interview (we're thinking positively!) and will make sure my attitude is right before walking in the office door.