It has been some time since I've written. I keep coming up with various topics to write on, but then life gets in the way. I am not surprised that having a 12-year-old in our life has made my life busier. In fact if it didn't make my life busier I would be worried that I was a neglecting mother.
A few weeks ago I was sitting in class listening to the kids. Every week they have a student of the week called the "Superhero." The teacher I work with had decided not to do a student of the week. It wasn't that there weren't deserving kids, but it had been so busy. The previous superhero had left the cape at home and forgotten his "About Me" paper. As she was explaining one of the kids yelled out, "But what about Little Miss. Will she get to be superhero?" The other kids joined in. Basically chanting that Little Miss should be the superhero for the week. The teacher agreed and she got everything set up for Little Miss.
The entire first grade gets together and all of the teachers announce their superheros for the week. The child then goes to the front and collects a prize and certificate. The teacher and I were worried that Little Miss wouldn't want to get up and it might cause a scene as the kids try and encourage her up while she fights back. When the teacher called Little Miss, she stood up immediately and hurried up to the front where she got her certificate and pencil.
The next week she would occasionally put on the cape and call herself Batman, or Robin as she twirled around.
Little Miss is autistic and will never live on her own. I am pretty sure she doesn't know exactly what the Superhero means, but she knows she has watched nearly every other student in the class wearing the cape. What really got to me was the fact that it was the other students in the class who really wanted her to get it. It wasn't something the teacher planned to teach the class an important message. It was something the kids themselves knew was important.
I love working at the school. These kids are good kids.
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
17 April 2014
16 March 2014
Wild Imaginations
I believe I've mentioned before that my little sister loves dogs. When she was young we went to the Albuquerque Balloon Festival. My parents bought one of the child leases because they didn't want to loose her among the thousands of people that attend. Babe took to that lease and every time she wore it she would crawl around on hands and knees and insist we call her Twinkles.
I have seen other children pretend to be animals. It isn't anything new. What was new was the little girl I work with pretending to be a dog.
The class I work in is amazing. They love and adore Little Miss. On Friday one of the girls was walking around on her knees saying "I'm a baby." Little Miss thought this was funny and she got down on her knees. And then she got down on her hands and started to bark. It took me by surprise. Usually she imitates what she sees the others doing. She has never shown any sign of being able to imagine herself as something different. In fact Little Miss gets affronted if she thinks someone is calling her the wrong name. All during afternoon recess, outside on the blacktop, she crawled around on her hands and knees and barked. It was really cute.
The day before during lunch, before Little Miss came out, I noticed a young man who was behaving differently from the other kids on the playground. He had a rolled up paper in his hand and was hiding behind a basketball pole. He would peer around it, make shooting motions, and hide again. (Granted at another school he might be suspended for such behavior, but I knew his behavior was harmless. How did I know? Because he was doing what I used to do when I was his age.) I walked over to him and asked if he was enjoying himself. He looked up in a shock and put the paper behind his back. I said it was nice seeing someone with such a vivid imagination and wished him fun.
A few minutes later he and another boy ran by yelling something about an enemy soldier on their tail and they had to hide. They were doing it on Friday too. It is nice to see kids being kids.
I have seen other children pretend to be animals. It isn't anything new. What was new was the little girl I work with pretending to be a dog.
The class I work in is amazing. They love and adore Little Miss. On Friday one of the girls was walking around on her knees saying "I'm a baby." Little Miss thought this was funny and she got down on her knees. And then she got down on her hands and started to bark. It took me by surprise. Usually she imitates what she sees the others doing. She has never shown any sign of being able to imagine herself as something different. In fact Little Miss gets affronted if she thinks someone is calling her the wrong name. All during afternoon recess, outside on the blacktop, she crawled around on her hands and knees and barked. It was really cute.
The day before during lunch, before Little Miss came out, I noticed a young man who was behaving differently from the other kids on the playground. He had a rolled up paper in his hand and was hiding behind a basketball pole. He would peer around it, make shooting motions, and hide again. (Granted at another school he might be suspended for such behavior, but I knew his behavior was harmless. How did I know? Because he was doing what I used to do when I was his age.) I walked over to him and asked if he was enjoying himself. He looked up in a shock and put the paper behind his back. I said it was nice seeing someone with such a vivid imagination and wished him fun.
A few minutes later he and another boy ran by yelling something about an enemy soldier on their tail and they had to hide. They were doing it on Friday too. It is nice to see kids being kids.
28 February 2014
Priorities
At the elementary where I work there was a reading competition for the kids. The class I work in was one of the winning classes and the kids were really excited. Their prize was they got to watch a movie . . . I am not even going to go there.
Now that the student competition is over, the teachers decided to have a reading competition. We were split into groups and our reading minutes are going to be averaged. It seems that everyone in my group has mentioned at one point "I'm glad you are a reader because you can make up what I don't." Considering more than half of our team has said this I am not sure that we are going to do very well. I guess it all depends on if the other teams are feeling the same way.
One of my coworkers asked me how come I have so much time to read. I told them it was because reading is a priority for me. I make time to read. Granted there are probably other things that might be better for me, but I feed my family every day, clean the house (the house is cleaner since Tech moved in, more on that later), and work part time. I teach piano lessons one night a week. Teach cub scouts one night a week. Attend religious meetings at least once a week. I also attend a writing group twice a month and whatever else happens to pop up. I also now help with homework and studying almost every night. (No wonder I have been sleeping well.) For me, reading is a necessity. It is me time. It is what relaxes me.
For me, reading is my reward for doing what I should be doing. Every night after Tech goes to bed I reward myself with a good book.
I don't know if we will win (I have over 1,100 reading minutes this week), but I love an extra excuse to dive into my books. Now excuse me, I have been lax in my reading duty today. I have to help my team.
(Oh, and a few minutes ago, I entered a short story in the contest my friend told me about. I don't know if it is what they were really looking for or not. Writing a hard science fiction piece in 500-600 words was dang hard. I wrote three stories and then ended up tweaking one I wrote over two years ago. Go fig.)
Now that the student competition is over, the teachers decided to have a reading competition. We were split into groups and our reading minutes are going to be averaged. It seems that everyone in my group has mentioned at one point "I'm glad you are a reader because you can make up what I don't." Considering more than half of our team has said this I am not sure that we are going to do very well. I guess it all depends on if the other teams are feeling the same way.
One of my coworkers asked me how come I have so much time to read. I told them it was because reading is a priority for me. I make time to read. Granted there are probably other things that might be better for me, but I feed my family every day, clean the house (the house is cleaner since Tech moved in, more on that later), and work part time. I teach piano lessons one night a week. Teach cub scouts one night a week. Attend religious meetings at least once a week. I also attend a writing group twice a month and whatever else happens to pop up. I also now help with homework and studying almost every night. (No wonder I have been sleeping well.) For me, reading is a necessity. It is me time. It is what relaxes me.
For me, reading is my reward for doing what I should be doing. Every night after Tech goes to bed I reward myself with a good book.
I don't know if we will win (I have over 1,100 reading minutes this week), but I love an extra excuse to dive into my books. Now excuse me, I have been lax in my reading duty today. I have to help my team.
(Oh, and a few minutes ago, I entered a short story in the contest my friend told me about. I don't know if it is what they were really looking for or not. Writing a hard science fiction piece in 500-600 words was dang hard. I wrote three stories and then ended up tweaking one I wrote over two years ago. Go fig.)
17 December 2013
My Eye
At school today, the little one I work with started to become concerned. She was looking at herself in the mirror and crying. Once she was calm again she wiped the tears away and grabbed a paper towel. Back in the classroom all of her classmates were worried as she pressed the paper towel under her eye.
"What is wrong? What happened?"
She looked at them and replied, "My eye was leaking."
"What is wrong? What happened?"
She looked at them and replied, "My eye was leaking."
25 September 2013
Best Friends Forever
Working at the Elementary has been very rewarding these last few weeks. There is something about kids that just make me happy. I help out at lunch and afternoon recess on the playground. There are a couple of kids that are never too far away from me. They are always running up and telling me to watch them or what they just did. One young man will follow me around about every other day. I turn around and he is about ten feet away. He doesn't talk to me as much as the others but when he sees me looking he smiles.
I also ride a bus twice a week to be on hand to help a young girl if necessary. She loves to sit next to me and chatter away. I feel bad because I have a difficult time understanding half of what she says because of a speech impediment. Yesterday I had her sit with some girls her age because I thought it would be good for her and the other students. Another girl sat next to me and made me promise to be her new best friend forever. She taught me a secret handshake and everything. Today when I rode the bus she did the handshake again, nearly crushing the young man who was sitting next to me.
I thought about becoming a teacher. For the first year in college I was actually in the elementary education program. I decided to change partly because I was so sick of the classes, and because it seemed that there were more students than there would be opportunities. While I am not disappointed in the path I chose, I am glad I get to work in the classroom for at least a little while.
And the last scary thought. I learned today that I am older than some of the parents in the first grade class I help in. I never thought about the idea that I could have a seven-year-old. So maybe that is why Moose and I are going for 7-14 children.
Next week maybe I'll have pictures of our banzai costumes. I feel so far behind and yet I know I am further along than in previous years. And I don't hate mine quite as much . . . but I haven't made the trousers yet.
I also ride a bus twice a week to be on hand to help a young girl if necessary. She loves to sit next to me and chatter away. I feel bad because I have a difficult time understanding half of what she says because of a speech impediment. Yesterday I had her sit with some girls her age because I thought it would be good for her and the other students. Another girl sat next to me and made me promise to be her new best friend forever. She taught me a secret handshake and everything. Today when I rode the bus she did the handshake again, nearly crushing the young man who was sitting next to me.
I thought about becoming a teacher. For the first year in college I was actually in the elementary education program. I decided to change partly because I was so sick of the classes, and because it seemed that there were more students than there would be opportunities. While I am not disappointed in the path I chose, I am glad I get to work in the classroom for at least a little while.
And the last scary thought. I learned today that I am older than some of the parents in the first grade class I help in. I never thought about the idea that I could have a seven-year-old. So maybe that is why Moose and I are going for 7-14 children.
Next week maybe I'll have pictures of our banzai costumes. I feel so far behind and yet I know I am further along than in previous years. And I don't hate mine quite as much . . . but I haven't made the trousers yet.
04 September 2013
It's a Small World
Last week I got a new job. I am now working at the local elementary as an aide. I have been there a few days and I love it. There is something satisfying about being around little kids who are happy over small victories. So when I was interviewing for the position I was really nervous. I sat down at the end of a table and there were five other people in the room. They all went around and introduced themselves. One name sounded familiar but I was so nervous I was just trying not to forget my own name.
Once the interview was over the lady across from me asked if I went to Burton Elementary. I was shocked and said I had. She laughed and asked what my last name was. When I told her she excitedly told the others that I was in her first class. At that point I remembered where I had heard the familiar name. She was my third grade teacher. It was a lot of fun to catch up with her. Because of this teacher I went to a special satellite school and ended up skipping a grade and graduating from college 6 days before my 21 birthday. I can't even image what my life would have been like if I didn't have this teacher.
Working with children frightens me but at the same time, I know that this job will be more rewarding than any of the other jobs I've had before. I also know that it might be the most emotionally difficult job that I've ever done. I guess this is just another way that maybe I will be a little more prepared for having children in the home. I don't think I will ever be completely prepared, but I can hope.
Once the interview was over the lady across from me asked if I went to Burton Elementary. I was shocked and said I had. She laughed and asked what my last name was. When I told her she excitedly told the others that I was in her first class. At that point I remembered where I had heard the familiar name. She was my third grade teacher. It was a lot of fun to catch up with her. Because of this teacher I went to a special satellite school and ended up skipping a grade and graduating from college 6 days before my 21 birthday. I can't even image what my life would have been like if I didn't have this teacher.
Working with children frightens me but at the same time, I know that this job will be more rewarding than any of the other jobs I've had before. I also know that it might be the most emotionally difficult job that I've ever done. I guess this is just another way that maybe I will be a little more prepared for having children in the home. I don't think I will ever be completely prepared, but I can hope.
27 March 2013
What do you know? Not much.
I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ, also known as a Mormon. I live in Utah, which has a fairly high percentage of Mormons. At my work, however, I am a minority. It doesn’t bother me. All of my coworkers are really nice and respect me. We make jokes about how I am in charge of the coffee because I don’t drink it, and they all make an effort to watch their language and agree that it lends to a more professional atmosphere. What surprises me is what people know and don’t know about my religion. I don’t want to get into any theological discussion, I don’t necessarily think this blog is the time or the place.
However, I am going to talk about the facts some of my coworkers know regarding my faith. Some background information: I have two coworkers who I work with on a daily basis. They have lived in Utah for more than 20 years, and they are highly educated. I get along with them really well and consider them to be good friends. As far as I know, they don’t support any religion strongly. We were talking about Easter and how the calendar day is calculated every year. (Something regarding the first full moon after . . . something. All I know is that I look at my calendar to see when it is.) I googled it and read the description to P and Q.
P looked at me and asked, “Do Mormons celebrate Easter?”
Q looked up from her desk and said, “Yes, Mormons are Christians.”
I made the comment that our official title is “The Church of Jesus Christ.” I can’t remember exactly how, but this led into a discussion of polygamy.
P then said, “Oh, I know you don’t practice that anymore. The only reason you did was because when you were coming to Utah a lot of your men died and it was a way for the women who had lost their husbands to be taken care of.”
Q said, “I didn’t know that. I wondered why anyone would want to share a husband.”
Oh how little I know. If anyone were to ask me about another religion, my answers would be just as scattered.
However, I am going to talk about the facts some of my coworkers know regarding my faith. Some background information: I have two coworkers who I work with on a daily basis. They have lived in Utah for more than 20 years, and they are highly educated. I get along with them really well and consider them to be good friends. As far as I know, they don’t support any religion strongly. We were talking about Easter and how the calendar day is calculated every year. (Something regarding the first full moon after . . . something. All I know is that I look at my calendar to see when it is.) I googled it and read the description to P and Q.
P looked at me and asked, “Do Mormons celebrate Easter?”
Q looked up from her desk and said, “Yes, Mormons are Christians.”
I made the comment that our official title is “The Church of Jesus Christ.” I can’t remember exactly how, but this led into a discussion of polygamy.
P then said, “Oh, I know you don’t practice that anymore. The only reason you did was because when you were coming to Utah a lot of your men died and it was a way for the women who had lost their husbands to be taken care of.”
Q said, “I didn’t know that. I wondered why anyone would want to share a husband.”
Oh how little I know. If anyone were to ask me about another religion, my answers would be just as scattered.
19 December 2012
Wassail
Sorry I didn't post a story on Sunday. I just couldn't come up with an idea I liked and I am tired of posting stories that I don't really like. I will still try and write a story every week, but I won't guarantee it, especially these next few weeks.
Yesterday I went to a department potluck. I was feeling slightly ill because one of my coworkers had been cooking brats all day. His cooking secret, beer. I don't drink and haven't been around alcohol very much, but I could smell the beer. Everyone could smell it. And it was making me sick to my stomach though the majority of my other coworkers couldn't get enough of it.
I was looking forward to the potluck. One of my coworkers made wassail. I love wassail and I don't get it too often, unless I buy the Stephen's Citrus and Spice. Homemade wassail is wonderful. I would say 90% of the people who came to the potluck had no idea what it was. The few of us who did know were explaining it to everyone. I was so confused as to why no one knew what the traditional drink was. I was talking to my boss later that day and we came to the conclusion that my coworkers, including my boss, didn't know what it was were the ones who drink alcohol. Those of us who knew what is was didn't. (Though there was one fellow, who makes the beer and brats, who knew what wassail was.) It was just an interesting coincidence. Or maybe it was a correlation, but everyone who tried the wassail wanted the recipe so I think it turned out well.
Yesterday I went to a department potluck. I was feeling slightly ill because one of my coworkers had been cooking brats all day. His cooking secret, beer. I don't drink and haven't been around alcohol very much, but I could smell the beer. Everyone could smell it. And it was making me sick to my stomach though the majority of my other coworkers couldn't get enough of it.
I was looking forward to the potluck. One of my coworkers made wassail. I love wassail and I don't get it too often, unless I buy the Stephen's Citrus and Spice. Homemade wassail is wonderful. I would say 90% of the people who came to the potluck had no idea what it was. The few of us who did know were explaining it to everyone. I was so confused as to why no one knew what the traditional drink was. I was talking to my boss later that day and we came to the conclusion that my coworkers, including my boss, didn't know what it was were the ones who drink alcohol. Those of us who knew what is was didn't. (Though there was one fellow, who makes the beer and brats, who knew what wassail was.) It was just an interesting coincidence. Or maybe it was a correlation, but everyone who tried the wassail wanted the recipe so I think it turned out well.
24 October 2012
Back to Real Life
The last two months have been spent preparing for one conference or another. In addition to that I was working on a research paper with my father that we are hoping to present at a conference come February (we should know more next month). I have also received back the second round of edits from my editor. I am still really nervous about my novel. My editor has been really good to work with, but I still wonder how good my story is. As I go through these edits I am glad when some of the comments are positive. They are just the boost I need to think I can actually do this. I have even started telling people that I am an author. I knew I qualified for that term for some time, but there was just part of me that didn’t feel worth of that title. I have wanted to be an author since I was young. The idea that I actually get to do my dream job, even if it isn’t full-time at this point, is still just amazing.
I work with a bunch of engineers. For one of them I am pretty much his personal secretary. I type, copy, and send emails for him. Because I do all of his typing, I am learning a lot about the company. I bring him the typed pages and ask questions about what I’ve typed. The other day as I was asking questions, he asked if I had finished college. I explained that I was a technical writer. The conversation continued with him subtly hinting that I should go back to college to become an engineer. This coming from one of the coworkers I respect the most actually meant a lot. He has strong opinions about who should and should not be hired and if he thought I would make a good engineer. That meant a lot coming from him. If I didn’t already do my dream job, I just might think about it. I mean as a daughter of an engineer with lots of engineers in the family, maybe it is just in my blood.
Though I enjoyed all of my conferences, I am kind of glad I’m back in real life. I have 12 months to finish my grand plans for next year.
I work with a bunch of engineers. For one of them I am pretty much his personal secretary. I type, copy, and send emails for him. Because I do all of his typing, I am learning a lot about the company. I bring him the typed pages and ask questions about what I’ve typed. The other day as I was asking questions, he asked if I had finished college. I explained that I was a technical writer. The conversation continued with him subtly hinting that I should go back to college to become an engineer. This coming from one of the coworkers I respect the most actually meant a lot. He has strong opinions about who should and should not be hired and if he thought I would make a good engineer. That meant a lot coming from him. If I didn’t already do my dream job, I just might think about it. I mean as a daughter of an engineer with lots of engineers in the family, maybe it is just in my blood.
Though I enjoyed all of my conferences, I am kind of glad I’m back in real life. I have 12 months to finish my grand plans for next year.
17 October 2012
Coffee and Kickstarter
Due to religious and personal reasons, I don’t drink coffee. I have never had a cup, and truthfully, it has never smelled appealing to me. The same can be said for my family. Because of this, I have never made coffee. My company provides free coffee. There is a coffee pot a few feet down the hall from my office. As I was walking by Tuesday, I noticed that the coffee wasn’t going into the pot, but rather trailing down the sides. I knew that was wrong. I grabbed a handful of paper towels and tried to stem the tide while trying to figure out how to work the coffee pot. I turned it off, but that didn’t do anything. I got another two coworkers involved, but they had just as much experience with coffee as I do. Finally, one of our other coworkers walked by. He grabbed the second, empty coffee pot, and told me to move the full one out of the way. Whoops. I am just glad that there were three of us who didn’t even think about the second coffee pot. It made me laugh.
So Kickstarter. My publisher has a Kickstarter campaign for their magazines. Their magazines are really high quality and a lot of fun. They already have two issues out and all of the stories are high quality. The Kickstarter has some really cool pledge gifts. (One of which are advanced reading copies of their books, mine included.) If you want to learn more head over to http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1756979258/tm-publishing-emerald-sky-magazine
So Kickstarter. My publisher has a Kickstarter campaign for their magazines. Their magazines are really high quality and a lot of fun. They already have two issues out and all of the stories are high quality. The Kickstarter has some really cool pledge gifts. (One of which are advanced reading copies of their books, mine included.) If you want to learn more head over to http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1756979258/tm-publishing-emerald-sky-magazine
10 October 2012
Psyching Out the Guys
Every day at lunch I play dominos with a group of guys. Sometimes there are only two of us, but lately we’ve had as many as six. The game consisted of us trying to get the open ends to equal a multiple of five. There is some skill involved but mostly it is the luck of the draw. There are certain dominos that are good (like the double five, blank and five, and double blank). Since I am the only female that plays, whenever a spectator cheers for someone, it is usually me. The guys don’t care. We all take our turn at winning and losing.
I try and get stuff done on my lunch break, and I have never been one who just sits around. I like to be doing stuff, even if the stuff isn’t productive. Normally I write letters during my lunch break. I have written my flash fiction stories. I folded origami (one handed at one point, just to see if I could do it). I draw pictures. Whenever I bring something else with me, the guys kind of laugh. One week I was writing an especially lengthy epistle to a friend. They kept cracking jokes and would then look at me expectantly. I ended up winning a couple of games. They good-naturedly grumbled about me being more potent when I had other things to focus on.
So what am I doing now? Yesterday I took some sewing. There is a bunch of hand sewing that needs to be done on our costumes. They just asked what I was working on and the game was on. I ended up winning by one point. It’s so nice of them to let me play.
I try and get stuff done on my lunch break, and I have never been one who just sits around. I like to be doing stuff, even if the stuff isn’t productive. Normally I write letters during my lunch break. I have written my flash fiction stories. I folded origami (one handed at one point, just to see if I could do it). I draw pictures. Whenever I bring something else with me, the guys kind of laugh. One week I was writing an especially lengthy epistle to a friend. They kept cracking jokes and would then look at me expectantly. I ended up winning a couple of games. They good-naturedly grumbled about me being more potent when I had other things to focus on.
So what am I doing now? Yesterday I took some sewing. There is a bunch of hand sewing that needs to be done on our costumes. They just asked what I was working on and the game was on. I ended up winning by one point. It’s so nice of them to let me play.
29 August 2012
I Thought it was Air Freshener
On Tuesday morning I got tired of my squeaky chair. I grabbed the WD-40 that was in the car. I fixed my chair. Ten seconds later one of the guys walked by “What is that smell?” Right. I forgot about the odor. For the next two hours everyone who walked by made comments about the smell. My answers varied.
“I thought it was air freshener.”
“No. I have no idea what that smell could be. It certainly wasn’t me trying to fix my chair.”
“That smell hasn’t always been here?”
“Fine, I admit it. I did it. Now what are you going to do about it?”
One of the engineers was so bothered by the smell he brought me a bottle of Fabreeze. We sprayed that around. I left a few minutes later and when I came back the same fellow was now spraying a bottle of Oust. It probably would have been better if he had just stuck with the two. For the rest of the day I had to take breaks to get some fresh air. And come to find out, it managed to travel to upstairs as well. I only hope when I get to work on Wednesday that my office smells normal. And in case you were wondering, Fabreeze does not cancel out the industrial strength WD-40 smell. The commercials totally lie.
“I thought it was air freshener.”
“No. I have no idea what that smell could be. It certainly wasn’t me trying to fix my chair.”
“That smell hasn’t always been here?”
“Fine, I admit it. I did it. Now what are you going to do about it?”
One of the engineers was so bothered by the smell he brought me a bottle of Fabreeze. We sprayed that around. I left a few minutes later and when I came back the same fellow was now spraying a bottle of Oust. It probably would have been better if he had just stuck with the two. For the rest of the day I had to take breaks to get some fresh air. And come to find out, it managed to travel to upstairs as well. I only hope when I get to work on Wednesday that my office smells normal. And in case you were wondering, Fabreeze does not cancel out the industrial strength WD-40 smell. The commercials totally lie.
02 May 2012
Opera at Work
I learned today that one of my coworkers is an opera singer. He was singing up and down the hall today. When I was asking my boss about it she mentioned that he sings when he is stressed. I told her that I think singing is a much better way of relieving stress than some of the other ways my coworkers do it. My only hope is that he sings when he is in a good mood as well. I don't deal with stress very well but I like the idea of singing to try and get through it.
28 March 2012
Life is Good
Last week I had a really short post. That is because on Tuesday, when I started my new job, I was suppose to present to forms of identification. I thought I knew where they were. I was wrong. I convinced my husband to drive back up to Logan, roughly 2 hours one way, to look for it. We couldn't find it. When we got back to our house that night, around 11, I ordered a new birth certificate. I was terrified. I was convinced that if I couldn't produce my identification then I would be fired. When I talked to the HR lady at work she laughed. Apparently she had also recently misplaced her birth certificate and had to order another one. My birth certificate came in on Friday and I am now official.
Not only do I like my new job (that pays more than my last one) but we have had some other good news recently. Our house is now under contract. When we moved down from Logan last year we put our house on the market. It has been on the market for almost 10 months now. We have been a little frustrated at paying both a mortgage payment and a rent payment. (This was why I was so panicked about being unemployed.) We have our fingers crossed that it will go through. Life is good.
Not only do I like my new job (that pays more than my last one) but we have had some other good news recently. Our house is now under contract. When we moved down from Logan last year we put our house on the market. It has been on the market for almost 10 months now. We have been a little frustrated at paying both a mortgage payment and a rent payment. (This was why I was so panicked about being unemployed.) We have our fingers crossed that it will go through. Life is good.
15 February 2012
Life Changes
When there is a major change in you life, how do you tell your family and friends? Do you call them each individually and explain it? Do you send an email to all of them? I decided that I am going to do it in a more public manner. Blogging about it.
A couple of years ago I think I mentioned that I am never going to go on vacation again. It happened again. I got back from LTUE and learned that my company laid off 15% percent of their employees. I happened to be one of them. The HR rep and my manager I think were more stressed about it than I was. I am sure I am still in shock about the whole thing. They actually had freelance forms for me all ready to fill out. I am once again unemployed. I am glad that I no longer have an hour commute, but that means I won't get to listen to as many audio books.
One of the reasons that I am coping with this so well is because of the keynote address at LTUE. Either that or this being the third time this has happened since I've been married makes me a an old hat at this. I am actually going to use this time to submit to more places. This may be the kick in the pants that I was needing. We shall see.
A couple of years ago I think I mentioned that I am never going to go on vacation again. It happened again. I got back from LTUE and learned that my company laid off 15% percent of their employees. I happened to be one of them. The HR rep and my manager I think were more stressed about it than I was. I am sure I am still in shock about the whole thing. They actually had freelance forms for me all ready to fill out. I am once again unemployed. I am glad that I no longer have an hour commute, but that means I won't get to listen to as many audio books.
One of the reasons that I am coping with this so well is because of the keynote address at LTUE. Either that or this being the third time this has happened since I've been married makes me a an old hat at this. I am actually going to use this time to submit to more places. This may be the kick in the pants that I was needing. We shall see.
04 January 2012
Summer Employment Part 4
My senior year of high school I got my first real job. It was working at a wholesale nursery and I was one of the only girls and one of the oldest. In the spring months that gave me the advantage. My boss figured I was responsible and when the semis came in with the bundled saplings ready for planting. I had all the paper work and kept track of the trees as they were planted in the pots by the other employees.
In the summer my job changed. When we weren't loading the trucks with orders, we weeded pots. This nursery had hundreds of trees and bushes all planted in their own individual pots. I used to think weeded in the flowerbed was bad until this job. We couldn't really kneel down because there wasn't enough room in the aisle between the rows of plants. We kind of moved along in a hulking crouch. It took about four days to work through all of the pots and then we started over at the beginning all summer long for eight hours a day. I still hate weeding and I keep telling myself that it isn't as bad as the job, but it is still weeding. At this time I didn't like getting up early and if I remember correctly I had to be at work by 6, maybe it was 6:30. There wasn't any point in showering beforehand because I would come back filthy from the dirt and mud. I would roll out of bed at 5:50 and drive to work. That seems like a luxury now.
This is where I really learned to appreciate audio books. This is also where I learned the hazards of reading a book before going to see the movie version. I also listened to a variety of books that I wouldn't have otherwise because they were the only ones I had on hand at the time. The job overall wasn't bad but I don't want to do it again. I just don't do well in the sun or heat. I make my husband weed and I normally clean the kitchen.
In the summer my job changed. When we weren't loading the trucks with orders, we weeded pots. This nursery had hundreds of trees and bushes all planted in their own individual pots. I used to think weeded in the flowerbed was bad until this job. We couldn't really kneel down because there wasn't enough room in the aisle between the rows of plants. We kind of moved along in a hulking crouch. It took about four days to work through all of the pots and then we started over at the beginning all summer long for eight hours a day. I still hate weeding and I keep telling myself that it isn't as bad as the job, but it is still weeding. At this time I didn't like getting up early and if I remember correctly I had to be at work by 6, maybe it was 6:30. There wasn't any point in showering beforehand because I would come back filthy from the dirt and mud. I would roll out of bed at 5:50 and drive to work. That seems like a luxury now.
This is where I really learned to appreciate audio books. This is also where I learned the hazards of reading a book before going to see the movie version. I also listened to a variety of books that I wouldn't have otherwise because they were the only ones I had on hand at the time. The job overall wasn't bad but I don't want to do it again. I just don't do well in the sun or heat. I make my husband weed and I normally clean the kitchen.
21 December 2011
Summer Employment Part 3
My brother made the comment that I had said I was going to write about some of my summer employment jobs and only had two posts. So this is another post about my job at the amusement park.
One of the rides I ran was the child bumper cars. Unlike the adult bumper cars that have a pedal for power, the child bumper cars always move. As long as the child knows how to steer the car then they can cruise around the floor. The problem came when the kid didn't understand how the steering wheel worked. As the ride operator we had to keep our foot on a pedal to keep the ride going. Kids would drive their cars into a corner and then not figure out how to get out of it. The PA system rarely worked so we would stand there making hand gestures and yelling "Turn the wheel. If you want to move, turn the wheel." After parents came up and complained that their child needed another turn, without waiting in line, because their child's car didn't work. There were times I just wanted to tell them their child was too young and couldn't figure out the controls. Or maybe their kid was just to dense to figure it out.
The other event that often happened at the ride dealt with the children waiting in line. The line bordered the ride on two sides with a metal fence between the two. Some of the children really wanted to see how the ride was going and so stuck their head between the posts of the fence, and subsequently got stuck. I had to call the meds over on three different occasions for kids getting stuck. One kid screamed the whole time and his parents were mad at us. I was impressed that another kid who got stuck was pretty calm and his parents, also calm, told him not to do it again. When he finally got out he wasn't nearly as traumatized and he and his family laughed it off. I hope I am a parent that can keep everything in perspective.
One of the rides I ran was the child bumper cars. Unlike the adult bumper cars that have a pedal for power, the child bumper cars always move. As long as the child knows how to steer the car then they can cruise around the floor. The problem came when the kid didn't understand how the steering wheel worked. As the ride operator we had to keep our foot on a pedal to keep the ride going. Kids would drive their cars into a corner and then not figure out how to get out of it. The PA system rarely worked so we would stand there making hand gestures and yelling "Turn the wheel. If you want to move, turn the wheel." After parents came up and complained that their child needed another turn, without waiting in line, because their child's car didn't work. There were times I just wanted to tell them their child was too young and couldn't figure out the controls. Or maybe their kid was just to dense to figure it out.
The other event that often happened at the ride dealt with the children waiting in line. The line bordered the ride on two sides with a metal fence between the two. Some of the children really wanted to see how the ride was going and so stuck their head between the posts of the fence, and subsequently got stuck. I had to call the meds over on three different occasions for kids getting stuck. One kid screamed the whole time and his parents were mad at us. I was impressed that another kid who got stuck was pretty calm and his parents, also calm, told him not to do it again. When he finally got out he wasn't nearly as traumatized and he and his family laughed it off. I hope I am a parent that can keep everything in perspective.
14 December 2011
Vacations and Layoffs
My husband and I were married on a lovely Tuesday afternoon. We spent the rest of the week in Yellowstone. At the time I was making more money and we knew that we would need the income with all of the expenses that comes with being an adult. I showed up to work on Monday and was met with a surprise. The cubicles were dismantled and the computers were gone. The one coworker I saw didn't say anything to me. She wouldn't even look my direction. I ended up calling another coworker who wouldn't tell me what was going on but just told me to call someone else. I called the manager and he told me he would be right over. I was then told the company had been dismantled, was given a severance check, and then escorted out of the building with all of my stuff already boxed up. I was terrified about telling my new husband that I was no longer employed. Two weeks later I had a new job.
Two years later I had another job and we were planning on heading to Pennsylvania to attend my brother-in-law's graduation. Two days before we left I was called into my manager's office. This was during the recession and there were four of us let go. I was once again put in the position that I had to go home and tell my husband that I had lost my job. This time not only did we lose the bigger income, but insurance as well. I was given a severance check this time as well. I thought about panicking but realized that at least I have a marketable skill and I wasn't about to let it ruin my vacation. Two months later I had a new job.
And my coworkers wonder why I am always panicked when we go on any kind of vacation, let alone a vacation that lasts a week.
Two years later I had another job and we were planning on heading to Pennsylvania to attend my brother-in-law's graduation. Two days before we left I was called into my manager's office. This was during the recession and there were four of us let go. I was once again put in the position that I had to go home and tell my husband that I had lost my job. This time not only did we lose the bigger income, but insurance as well. I was given a severance check this time as well. I thought about panicking but realized that at least I have a marketable skill and I wasn't about to let it ruin my vacation. Two months later I had a new job.
And my coworkers wonder why I am always panicked when we go on any kind of vacation, let alone a vacation that lasts a week.
18 May 2011
Job Crossover
This week at my job, I had the opportunity of going over nearly a dozen different magazines. I have never worked for a magazine publisher but I have worked for a place that did textbook layout and design and I am prone to believe that the two fields are similar in some ways. As I was trying to judge which magazine was one of "the best" for the field, I was surprised by what I found. A well known, well respected magazine had blatant errors and it just didn't look professional to me. I started to give my review and then took a step back realizing that I may in fact need a second opinion.
At the textbook job, we had to layout the pages by spread, two pages side by side. Those two pages had to bottom align. The last line of text on both pages had to line up with each other. We had strict specifications on how much space was above and below headings, how many stacked words you could have at the beginning or end of lines, and even how many letters could appear before and after the hyphen of a wrapped word. We had sheets of information for each job we did and we referenced them on almost an hourly basis, or at least I did, some of my other coworkers had better memories. I gained an attention to detail when it comes to layout because of this job.
So, back to the magazine's blatant errors. I was really frustrated by the page numbers in the footer. I always thought it was common practice that the page number is consistently placed (either in the header or footer, I don't care, so long as it is consistent) on a page, especially if it is in a footer. I can accept the fact that ads don't get footers and I can also accept that occasionally a picture will bleed off the edge and there is no footer, but for the rest of the magazine there should be page numbers. Am I right? How else are you suppose to find the article on page 124? This magazine moved the footer, changed the style of page numbers, and would just leave it off when they seemed to feel like it. I couldn't believe it. The other magazines got it just fine. Why couldn't this one do it? I now know what raises my hackles when looking through periodicals, footers, who would have guessed I would have a "foot fetish."
At the textbook job, we had to layout the pages by spread, two pages side by side. Those two pages had to bottom align. The last line of text on both pages had to line up with each other. We had strict specifications on how much space was above and below headings, how many stacked words you could have at the beginning or end of lines, and even how many letters could appear before and after the hyphen of a wrapped word. We had sheets of information for each job we did and we referenced them on almost an hourly basis, or at least I did, some of my other coworkers had better memories. I gained an attention to detail when it comes to layout because of this job.
So, back to the magazine's blatant errors. I was really frustrated by the page numbers in the footer. I always thought it was common practice that the page number is consistently placed (either in the header or footer, I don't care, so long as it is consistent) on a page, especially if it is in a footer. I can accept the fact that ads don't get footers and I can also accept that occasionally a picture will bleed off the edge and there is no footer, but for the rest of the magazine there should be page numbers. Am I right? How else are you suppose to find the article on page 124? This magazine moved the footer, changed the style of page numbers, and would just leave it off when they seemed to feel like it. I couldn't believe it. The other magazines got it just fine. Why couldn't this one do it? I now know what raises my hackles when looking through periodicals, footers, who would have guessed I would have a "foot fetish."
11 August 2010
Summer Employment Part 2
With summer coming to a close, I figured I would have one last post about my joyous experience as an amusement park attendant.
Our uniforms were really simple. They gave us a colored button up shirt (pale green in color) and we had to provide khaki trousers. Nothing fancy really. I was glad that the shirts were light colored. One of the other sections (food if I recall right) had to wear navy blue shirts. As one who does terrible in hot weather, I was glad for the light coloring.
Another aspect of our uniform was name tags which had our pictures. I don’t know how many times that summer someone would call me by name and I would look at them expecting to see a familiar face. They would smile and I would remember I was wearing a nametag. The next year my family went to another amusement park on vacation. Oh boy did we have fun calling people by name.
Did you know there are height restrictions on rides for a reason? That there are some rides that are dangerous if someone is too small or too large. I worked a couple of rides that had minimum height requirements. You would not believe what parents tried to get past us. Little girls with their hair piled on top of their head, boys with hats perched extra high, children walking through on their tip toes. I don’t know why they got mad when I caught them. Then they would argue that this child rode on other rides with the same restrictions. Great. Many of us wished they would measure everyone at the front and give them different wrist bands coordinated with exactly which ride they could go on. That would make things much easier. (Can you tell I wasn’t really impressed with this employer?)
I once had a family boo me for not allowing their son (who was six inches too short) on the ride. Another set of parents complained to a manager because I put my hand on the top of their child’s head. They argued that I treated her like a doll and it was inappropriate. Oh, what happy days. Thank goodness for desk jobs.
Our uniforms were really simple. They gave us a colored button up shirt (pale green in color) and we had to provide khaki trousers. Nothing fancy really. I was glad that the shirts were light colored. One of the other sections (food if I recall right) had to wear navy blue shirts. As one who does terrible in hot weather, I was glad for the light coloring.
Another aspect of our uniform was name tags which had our pictures. I don’t know how many times that summer someone would call me by name and I would look at them expecting to see a familiar face. They would smile and I would remember I was wearing a nametag. The next year my family went to another amusement park on vacation. Oh boy did we have fun calling people by name.
Did you know there are height restrictions on rides for a reason? That there are some rides that are dangerous if someone is too small or too large. I worked a couple of rides that had minimum height requirements. You would not believe what parents tried to get past us. Little girls with their hair piled on top of their head, boys with hats perched extra high, children walking through on their tip toes. I don’t know why they got mad when I caught them. Then they would argue that this child rode on other rides with the same restrictions. Great. Many of us wished they would measure everyone at the front and give them different wrist bands coordinated with exactly which ride they could go on. That would make things much easier. (Can you tell I wasn’t really impressed with this employer?)
I once had a family boo me for not allowing their son (who was six inches too short) on the ride. Another set of parents complained to a manager because I put my hand on the top of their child’s head. They argued that I treated her like a doll and it was inappropriate. Oh, what happy days. Thank goodness for desk jobs.
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