grrrr...

So, today, I started out with some hope. I put some spare ribs in my brand new slow cooker and headed out to a job I don't really like, but I knew that it was taking me somewhere...even though it's taking me very slowly and probably on some detours.
One hour into the job, I get a complaint. The same complaint I hear EVERY DAY. "Your employee, Mr. So and So was really rude to me. He was giving me nothing but attitude and I don't really appreciate it all!" Awesome. I get a complaint from at least one customer everyday about this guy, and today I've had enough. I made my first write up. Well, second actually. The same guy earned another one for leaving tasks on the checklist undone even though he checked them off. You want to really get under my skin? Leave the cream in the dispenser sitting on the counter overnight. My blood will boil and you will feel my wrath. So, my co-manager, who is really kinda my boss, because she hired me, gave him two write-ups today. He gave me attitude like nothing else. He didn't give her attitude, but he will soon learn the error of his ways.
Ok, shake it off, Libby. He's just an idiot.
Then, mass orders for cakes.
Then, armies of customers coming in for way too much food.
Then, the cake decorator yelled at me. My rock hard facade is slipping...
And then, the icing on the cake, Mr. Super (and Paranoid) Liberal comes in. He yells at some of my employees and then demands to see the manager, me.
"How can you justify almost $6 for a cookie!?"
(Stock answer)-"Well, sir, as you can see, these cookies have each been hand iced and the amount of detail that goes into them..." He won't let me finish.
"Detail? Yeah, right, those are mass produced. I can see that clearly!"
"Actually if you look closely, each cookie is hand decorated"
"You know McCain is going to bring us a nuclear war. How can you have cookies of him? Does part of the profits go to the parties?
I think, do they need more money? From a small business? "No, the profits go to the store."
"How can you justify that?"
"It takes quite a bit of time and skill to make those cookies."
"Skill...yeah..."
Dude you are in a bakery. Get the heck out if you are going to mock the skill of bakers. Idiot.
"Yes, quite a bit of skill."
"You know, it's the type of economic inflation that McCain is going to bring that makes those cookies so F*#%ing expensive. Do you know what inflation is? (don't insult me, dunce) When he's president, they are going to be twice as much. I don't care how much North Shore people make (it's a lot!) and I don't care how much I make (probably too much), you can't charge that much for cookies. Who's decision was it to make them so much? Did you decide to make them that much?"
"The owners actually decided on that price."
"Well...(stammer, yeah that's right the owners, now get out) That's just not right. McCain is going to bring nuclear war on us and..."
"Sir, we are selling cookies. This isn't a political debate." I had to say something. Even though it was pansy-ish.
"Well...F this, F that. I'm stupid...I'm a cheap penny pinching liberal, even though I've got too much money..." As he walks out the door. (paraphrased)
"Thank you, have a nice day" My passive aggressive side comes out a bit...
The next guy in line hesitates as he slowly orders two simple things. The tears are knocking down the gates, but I finish that order and head straight for the bathroom. I cry, but that doesn't help. He's doomsday talk about nuclear war, and economic downfalls would normally make me laugh. I would have laughed in front of them. But, it was his attitude towards us that bothered me most. Or course, my body was reacting to the build up of the hoard of incompetent men I'm forced to be surrounded by and the general suckiness of my day. But, when I become a pastry chef and a baker, am I going to have to come up against that all the time? He clearly doesn't think much of the working man. He doesn't know anything about what we do. And, he clearly can't tell Biden a part from McCain. I know he's an idiot, but I've been working SO HARD at motivating myself to stay at this (almost) thankless job and I've gotten too many of these idiots.
Is it all worth it?
Should I even try?
Should I even get out of bed again?
So that's how my day went. The night part was better. I'm eating spare ribs now...Mr. Super (and Paranoid) who?

Chicago: Finally an update

I really don't know where to begin. So many things have happened. I've been so busy that I've hardly had time for myself, let alone time to blog. Last night, I managed to get through the piles of emails in my inbox and today, I'm close to conquering the mountain of dishes I've left for myself this past week.
What have I been up to? Well, here's an attempt to explain: Firstly, my job. I transferred within the same company I was with in Columbus. This location is well known with the company for its well organized kitchen and wonderful manager. I was hesitant to stay with this company because of the trouble I've had with them before, but the sure promise of immediate work in an economy that is less than ideal, I went with them. However, pay day came and went without any check for me. Since I did start in the middle of a pay period, I thought that it might have created some complications, but I shouldn't worry too much. The next pay day was only two short weeks away. The next pay day came and again I was empty handed. I looked at my boss for an explanation, even though he was already working on finding out what happened. He lent me money, knowing that I've been working for 3 weeks without anything. He had HR on the line and they were getting to the bottom of it. The very next week, my boss announces that he is getting promoted and someone else is coming to take his place. Very good for him, but I didn't know how I felt about it. (Ask me later about this company and switching managers.) Anyways, the new manager started and she seemed more than competent, she seemed quite fit for the job. My former boss actually left her in charge for about a week. They are still in the process of transitioning so she isn't left to figure out the details of the job entails. The week he left was the week of pay day, the third pay day I would see with this new location, and I hoped that my time here would finally prove fruitful. And it did. My pay check was there, for all 168 hours due me plus the small amount of overtime. It was all there, except for one small thing. They paid me $2/ hour less than our agreed amount. This number, someone came up with all their own, because it was not what I made in Columbus, and it was certainly not even mentioned in discussing my pay with this new location. I almost cried all over my brand new boss.
The next day, I told them I was leaving in a week.
That was about 8 days ago and so I'm here at my apartment in the middle of the day. Somehow, I was almost literally given another job, one that suits me perfectly. Tomorrow, I start as a manager of a small bakery. Although the pay is...laughable, I'm content with it. As long as they don't screw with what money they did promise me.

Back to Reality

After being in Cambodia and Thailand for 3 weeks, I'm back to the States. I came back home to a room full of boxes and suitcases and, lo and behold, my beautiful bed. The moving process undid everything in my room, except my bed. I left it untouched and undisturbed, so that when I came back from an incredible journey across the world, I would have a little sanctuary of what life was like before Cambodia. I couldn't wait to hide under the covers and snuggle my head into my pillow and disappear for a few hours. My sore bones and muscles relaxed after 48 hours of travel. I slept hard, not dreaming on the trip I just had, and not dreaming of the move I'm about to have, but I dreamt of my bed. I drifted into a blissful awareness of nothing but the comfortable mattress, blankets and pillows. And then I woke up in the middle of the night, ready to start my day. It's going to be interesting in Eastern Standard Time.
I've got so many memories from my trip, but I'm not exactly ready to share them. I've been hounded with emotions of harsh realities that I didn't see as fact before. My opinions have changed on issues that I didn't know existed before. My heart has been broken and healed so many times. I've fallen in love and to speak so quickly and candidly of that love would seem to make it trite and temporary. I need to settle and daydream about my love before I tell you about it. But, all I can say is that my life is changed forever. I've got little reality from before that is staying with me. My reality has shifted and it will continue to shift until I recognize little from who I was.
I may be exaggerating a tad, but it's too poetic not to think about.

End of an Era?

Tomorrow is my last day of work at Time Warner. Sorta. They want me to come in two days next week to check in on everyone and make sure the girl replacing me is doing fine. How did that happen? How did I become the person who needs to check in? I'm actually going to be in Chicago next week, meeting with my potential new boss and finding an apartment. Right now, compared to Time Warner, Chicago is definitely my priority. Cambodia is before that, and does anyone at work realize that it takes time to prepare to leave the country for three weeks? Next week, they will be lost without me. Is that conceited of me to say? No. Because it's true. The area manager thinks it. Our maintenance guy thinks it. I know my catering clients think it. That really feels good. I feel important and needed.

Time off from work is heavenly

Right now, I'm sitting in a coffee shop. It's 10:42am. At work, they are furiously getting getting for a cook out. I woke up at 9am. Even though I woke up with a text from my boss on my phone asking me how to hire a temp for the day, I woke up with a smile on my face. I'm not tied down by a hellish work environment, at least for half a day. I can't take off the whole day, that would just be insane. But, as I sit here, researching family crests, Alice in Wonderland and children's bookstores in the area, I find myself breathing deeply. I'm breathing in the air of freedom. I'm allowing my body to regain the life I once had. Am I being overly dramatic? I'm only taking off 6 1/2 hours. I'll be working a full 4 hours still today. No. Once I realize that my usual work day is 10 1/2 hours of non stop, on my feet, action, training my boss how to be the manager, and getting grief from my coworkers when my management isn't flawless, even though I'm doing all this without any training myself. I realize that I'm not being dramatic enough. If only life were a musical, I could sing my joy and dance with a whole company behind me about how heavenly not being at work truly is.

Fortunately my mind is elsewhere

I woke up early to the sound of rain falling hard. I snuggled deep under the covers for a few more minutes of slumber before I reminded myself of the harsh reality that is my job. I got up and looked forward to the trek from the backdoor to my car. The air was fresh and clean and full of water. I walked quickly to sneak into the shelter of my car and thought about how tent like cars can be. Everywhere except for my little canopy was soaking wet, but I was safe inside. I drove, not thinking about my destination, but imagining myself waking up in a tent to weather like this. (In my head, my tent was super waterproof, since it was quite rainy.) I thought about the plans I would have made to get up early and start hiking. I smiled just like I would have in the tent when those plans went out the window. If I woke up to the sound of rain hitting my tent, I would have smiled and snuggled deeper into my sleeping bag, letting the sound of the rain lull me back to sleep.

My creativity level is at an all time low

I've been working diligently on a story that is close to my heart. I have put myself into the characters and my best ideas into the plot. I've been more dedicated to the outline of this story than I ever have of any term paper for school. If I worked this hard at school, I totally would have gotten all A's. But, last Saturday was the first time in over a month that I've written anything on it. Even then, I only wrote a couple of paragraphs. My main character feels more like a stranger than a close friend. Her strength is fading and she's the hero! I need her to be creative and strong. But, how can I expect that of her when I can't bring any of it to the table. I feel her flittering around my subconscious every now and then. She wants to be let out. She really wants to fly. It's cabin feverish in my brain and that really doesn't feel good.
Bleh...even this blog post feels a little sluggish in the creativity department. It'll have to do for now.

It's all finally paying off, I hope

I've worked overtime everyday at work for the past three weeks. I've learned more little annoying details only managers should deal with in that same time than I have in the 8 months I've worked at the cafe. I've dealt with moody men, childish customers, and jerks for HR people. I've had to give direction to the managers filling in for my boss who's baby decided to come into this world three weeks early. And now, someone is seeing all the work I do. The Columbus area manager gave me a huge compliment today by asking if I could clone myself. He saw how hard I was working to keep the cafe afloat while he looked for a new manager. He now knows how long I work each day and he saw me handle difficult situations. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that I rock and now people know it.

My work environment reminds me of Haiti

How harsh does a work environment have to be to constitute me storming out? I wanted to storm out of the kitchen a couple of times this week. I am not an overly unkind person. I would never leave my boss with all my work, the extra work I'm picking up because of my lazy coworkers and all her work. Not only because she's 9 months pregnant or that I'm trying to ask for a raise and a transfer and a month long leave of absence, but also because I like her and I think she deserves good employees. If two out of the four employees she's got are unreliable, moody and really unskilled in the kitchen, I'll step in and pick up the slack. Men don't belong in this industry anyways. We should just fire these two men. The three women there really do all the work anyways.
If that wasn't quite enough, I had to deal of the corporate portion of this job today as well. Nothing says "Leave this company as quickly as possible!" as a surly HR manager who has no people skills. So, as soon as I find the time to step away from my tasks big enough to tackle 2 1/2 large men, I sit down with the Columbus regional manager and the midwest regional HR manager. We need to discuss my possible transfer to a cafe in Chicago. The gist of this conversation was her telling me why I couldn't make it in Chicago without her coming out and saying, "You can't make it in Chicago". Should I tell her the reason I'm limping is because of the shin splints I'm getting from running around this ill designed kitchen? No. Should I explain to her that I'm working with two punks who can't tie their shoes without me telling them where their laces are? Should I say I know more about this kitchen than she does about her prestine HR office, but she'll never see it because she's middle management and her life goal is to make people feel smaller than her? Never. I say nothing and like a pansy, I let her tell me that the pace in this cafe is quicker than I've ever seen, that the areas in Chicago I'm looking at are too expensive for me and that I probably won't get a raise big enough to live in Chicago. What a punk. I should've let her know how I deal with punks in the kitchen. (which really isn't much, I just ignore them until they notice, but I like to think I'm tough)
I've got agencies that would pee their little pants to get me to work for them. I don't have to deal with corporate punks and kitchen punks. I think it's time to cause people to pee for me.

Spring is here...?

I'm sitting on my porch, barefoot, trying to contain my excitement caused by this warm weather. The wind is still blowing and with it, it brings memories of a bitterly cold winter, but I stubbornly sit through it and accept the goosebumps. The air smells like Spring and that's all I need to convince me of its arrival. I can observe people's differing reactions to the weather and it's completely predictable. Some have completely embraced the notion that Spring is here to stay. They are wearing shorts, riding their bikes or taking their dogs out for walks without care, or a jacket. Others are a little more sceptical. They have jackets, but they are holding them or wraping them around their waists. I've seen people still wearing their winter coats, pretending as if this fluke of a day isn't really happening. They don't want to get their hopes up, so they hide their head until the snow is back.
Oh, snow. Come to think of it, I can't remember snow. I've blocked it out of my memory. I'm embracing the notion of Spring and even though the forecast calls for snow tomorrow, I will be completely surprised to see the white stuff. I'm secretly hoping the heavens grew tired of dumping bitter cold on us, making our days gray and glum. The birds, thousands of which join me in the outdoors, are agreeing with me and that's all I need.

Music

I'm currently listening to the soundtrack of Pan's Labyrinth. It was a haunting movie, and so the soundtrack is haunting as well. I find myself listening more and more to soundtracks, because of the message they portray. You can tell a lot about the movie by listening to its heartbeat. That, for me, is what the soundtrack is all about.
Another soundtrack I've been listening to is to the latest Pride and Prejudice movie. The song that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy first dance to has a magical melody. When I listen to it, I cannot imagine any other tune exists. The only two things that exist, in fact, is the song and myself. Then the song ends. Mercedes' Lullaby from Pan's Labyrinth comes on and my whole existence shifts into a dimension where I cannot feel any other melody except this particular one. I try to imagine myself dancing to another tune. What other tune is there? I think to myself. There is none but this one.
Rachel Zylstra's "Another Again" comes on, and the same phenomenon occurs. She hits me a again with "So Fair" and by this time, I've visited so many dimensions that emotions have piled up on top of more emotions and tears well up. I'm in the middle of a fast paced kitchen cutting fruit and I have to move to onions to cover up the fact that I'm crying for no apparent reason.
I don't bring new music into my regular listening library. I have to obsess about certain ones. I have to dance with them, cry with them, and let them tell their stories to me. I often write stories to them, or movies. I do this even for the soundtracks, because a note or a melody speaks to me a completely different way. Too much music would mean that my head would explode from all the emotions.

My most recent weekend

I didn't mean this to be a blog about my weekends, but they seem to be the only things I want to talk about. I went to Chicago to visit Zach, to visit my Goshen friends and to see Morgan play. It was bliss. I didn't see much of Chicago, or do any tourist-y things, but I feel like my visit lacked nothing...but more time with Zach....next time maybe.

My weekend

Friday evening, I picked up a certain individual from the airport. Together we headed to our friends, the Dekkers, and enjoyed a brief time reuniting with several friends and family. The next morning I joined them for breakfast and then the certain individual and I went to a local chocolate shop, "The Chocolate Cafe" to check it out and sip on some excellent hot chocolate. We were going to visit more chocolate shops in town, but our conversation led us back to my house to check out some camping gear. As it was Saturday, I do what I do most Saturdays and lost most of my energy. We sat down to watch The Lord of the Rings, which, by now, you can totally zone out on if you've watched it as much as I have. Then, we made a brief visit again at the Dekker's before we went to Bexley Monks for dinner. I took a lucky wrong turn after dinner and we landed in Franklin Park Conservatory where we walked and I ended up climbing a tree.
The following morning we met up at church and, deciding to be social, we joined the gang for lunch and a couple of games of Apples to Apples. We sat down to watch an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and a chat with Jessie and Karl before I drove this certain individual back to the airport.
By all accounts, this should have been just a regular reunion, or a "get together" if you will, but it wasn't. From the several times this person has visited, this has been the most magical by far. It has been 5 years or more since I've felt this connected with someone. I'm giddy and I think I've fallen deep into a pit of infatuation.

Camping: A life long desire

Today, I went into Clintonville Outfitters to pick up a few airline friendly containers and I left with a whole lot more. As always. I've been officially in love with with the outdoors since I first left the hospital in my mother's arms 23 years ago. My dad and I would occasionally go camping. More than once, I pretty much forced him to camp out with me in the backyard. But, just about 4 years ago, Dad and I made a pact. Every year right after the Memorial Day weekend, he and I would go somewhere new and exciting to camp for a few days. With each trip we have to do something new and adventurous to increase the sheer pleasure of living outdoors. The first year we went to Tar Hollow State Park hiked an incredible 10 miles! We were useless the rest of the day. The following year we went to Turkey Run State Park and kayaking 16 miles (and finished before anyone else). I got 2nd degree burns on my shins from neglecting to put sunscreen on them. Our latest adventure took us to Maryland. We hiked the length of the state on the Appalachian Trail. It was about 28 miles in total. After that, our 10 mile hike back in the day looks like child's play. We have made this into a life long tradition, so much so that any job I take that will not allow me to take off those days are not going to keep me long.

While I walked through this little outfitters, I was overwhelmed with desire to travel. I do not want to be stuck at home anymore! I want to get out there and experience life and nature and God! That is where I'm supposed to be.

I came home with a book and three small containers, each of which are 1 oz too big to go in a carry on.

Money

So, right now, I'm in debt. At my age, this isn't a surprise. I have student loans, a car loan and two medical bills. Why am I blogging about? It's totally on my mind. Money for me has been this evil device that some minion of Satan (aka, the man) has used against me so my mobility and my opportunites are both limited. But, now, I'm fighting back. The man should have known he can't keep me down for long. I'm doing the whole Total Money Makeover, and even though I utterly despise money and budgets and all that would limit creativity and free living, I'm sticking it to the greedy minion and putting him in his place, which is totally off my bank account. I have one more payment on my smallest bill and then it's on to the next one. Soon, I'll hit the big whopper of a bill, the student loan, and I will be free from the bondage the establishment puts us in. If you are a bank, a credit card company, or the government, you had better watch out. I'm on to you.

My very first blog post

I've been trying to start up a blog for quite some time now, and I think this might be the time it actually happens. It is January, so I think I just chose my new year's resolution.