Conference Call Via Kitchen

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This used to be my office.  I started this job 6 years ago doing the normal working commute. Out the door early, kids at daycare, work all day, pick-up kids at daycare, work at home some more, sleep, repeat. Then, in 2008, when the financial world took a hit, my company was bought by a bigger company. Loads of people lost their jobs. The event world stopped in its tracks.  There was a 4 month period of time when we pulled back on everything we were doing,  Almost all events stopped. It was scary and unnerving but thankfully we came out of it. The slow climb back for events in the corporate world finally settled about 2 years ago. In the meantime we got to know this big, bad, machine-like company we were now a part of.

A company this size has its challenges to say the least. Everything is automated. Conference calls are a plague. There’s always someone, somewhere in the company doing exactly what you’re doing (sometimes better). It’s annoying.

But then, amidst the cluttered meetings and impersonal employee environment it shines through. A big, fat, encouraged, living, breathing work-at-home policy. Thousands of people working from home.

Almost my entire working career has been within the financial world. Let me tell you something. There is LITERALLY no other company doing this. None. Zip. That I know of and can get a job at anyway (trust me I’ve tried).  So I took the leap and became a stay-at-home-worker or a work-at-home-stayer. Whatever.

Does it solve everything? No. See my post on Monday.

But it has helped a ton. My kids aren’t little anymore, they are at school all day and even when they come home at night they are pretty self-sufficient. And in the event world – there really is no 9-5 work day. It’s usually nights, weekends, holidays etc. Which is fine, that’s what I’ve signed-up for. But I’m an early riser. Some days I’m more productive from 6am-9am then I am all day. Other days I need to work on Sunday nights so I have some time to ease into my week.

It works for me. It works for my family (although I think they wouldn’t mind me being gone a little more than I am, let’s be honest).

I do miss my work family – and we do try to get together as much as possible in human form.

But if this is the future of business – sign me up! That office above is empty now…errr…or it will be once I remove all my crap that I still haven’t gotten around to.

Now excuse me while I do a conference call, wash the dishes and work on a power point. In that order.

 

 

 

 

how YOU doin’?

My day. In a nutshell. Actually in a picture.

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This isn’t directed at everyone. Just 80% – 90% of the bastards I talked to today.

Sorry. Tomorrow will be better.

Like Anne Frank, I believe that in spite of everything – people are really good.

Am I comparing my sad little issues to one of the most horrific stains on human history?

Maybe.

So what.

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You must have a really good camera

Ever notice that people usually say you have a nice camera when they see a photo they like? This cracks me up. Maybe it’s my incredibly talented eye. Or my amazing sense of lighting and mood? Hee hee.

Here are some photos taken with a camera phone, a Nikon, a Kodak disposable, and an old school Polaroid camera. Betcha you can’t figure out which is which is which. And really, who cares.

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This is how I know I’m old aka Happy Friday!

Here’s the cycle of events that went down last night that forced me to confront my impending fall right into a nursing home. And how I’m actually looking forward to it.

  • My daughter records a show call Tosh.O – which is highly inappropriate but highly hilarious. After I’ve caught up on all my cooking shows, I sometimes(always) watch it.
  • During one of the commercials (sometimes I forget I’m watching a recorded show and can fast forward) Tosh announced the line-up for Bonnaroo. 
  • Bonnaroo is a cool, outdoor music festival in Tennessee. My sister and her man went, camped and loved it. She told me all about it. That’s how I know.
  • Anyhoo. Tosh announced the line-up. Paul McCartney. Tom Petty. Wilco. Wu-tang Clan.
  • 3 days of music, fun and revelry. I decided we were totally going.
  • After the show ended I immediately went online to get tickets, look up details etc. Maybe I’d surprise my hubby with the whole thing all planned out. A cool off-the-cuff weekend for just the two of us!
  • The website offers a lot of info. It’s very tongue-in-cheek. Lots of cute jokes sprinkled in with the directions and stuff.
  • Then I read that the festival is on a farm, on rolling hills. Most people camp there – which I didn’t want to do. So I googled hotels/motels in the area. Maybe a nice bed and breakfast, I thought. I did find a Days Inn about 30 miles away.
  • Then I read the “safety” section of the website. Heat exhaustion is a rampant problem. “Communal” was a word used often and generously, as in, whatever you bring to the festival is communal and you should share and share alike. hmmmm.
  • Then I read a section called “traffic” about the miles and miles and miles of jammed cars leading up the festival.
  • I decided to leave that site and go to the travel site for the town. Surely we could have a nice stay there and enjoy the festival by day no?
  • No. It’s too far and too complicated to leave the festival and come back. According to all the chatter on the web anyway. And there’s a lot of chatter.
  • And then there was the weather. Last year, around that time, it was about 101 degrees. No joke.
  • Heat. Crowds. Traffic. “Communal”. Ok then. I’m out.
  • I went through a few minutes of mourning. Was I so rigid? Couldn’t I have a good time? Crowds aren’t just for mobs – they could be fun. So it’s warm. So what. So what?? So EVERYTHING. Was I nuts. Not one thing about that time sounded good. I shut the computer off in disgust.
  • I was so mad at myself for even considering it. I’m a granny. I’ve been a granny since I was 22.
  • When my husband came home I told him about my tortured plan and took him step by step through my thinking. About me grappling with trying to make this plan work, and then finally, realizing it wasn’t for us. I was hoping he’d say something like,”let’s make it work! It’s worth it for the music!”.
  • He actually said,”I’d sweat the whole time. And I hate people.”

Atleast I won’t be alone in the nursing home.

Downer Abbey

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For all of those folks who haven’t caught up on this season’s episodes of Downton Abbey, please stop reading and go enjoy your short-lived happiness with the show. What I mean is…SPOILER ALERT. Meh.

Sorry, I’m pissed. I know it’s an English melodrama. I know it’s not real. But really? Really?

Must I be raked over the emotional coals on each character? The maid who has to give away her little Charlie…Edith and her endless basket of bad luck…and Cybil.  Oh lord do not even get me started on Cybil.  2 doctors in a room and she still dies while they look at each other by the fire. Even Thomas and his tortured, closeted life makes me sad.

And then last week they kill Matthew. No. Wait. They kill Matthew after he and Mary joyfully welcome a son. After Mary tells him over and over again that he is the only person who knows her. AFTER a speech from the Earl of Grantham about happiness finally coming to the abbey.  I know, I know. Contracts expire. Actors have to move on. Couldn’t they have done a switcheroo a la Darren on Bewitched? Or the older sister from Rosanne?

It’s really bad when you are praying for more time spent on O’Brien just to avoid the sadness.

I know I still have Bates and Anna. And maybe Mrs. Patmore will get lucky soon.

Sigh.

Night Riders

I’ve never done an all nighter. Not even in college. So, last Saturday night, well into my 40s, I did it. We had 3 short days to enjoy in Vermont and my daughter had a dance she couldn’t miss. So around midnight, we loaded up the kids and left. In 6 hours we’d be having breakfast in our favorite spot in town.
My husband drove. We had coffee. We had snacks. We were on our way.
I fell asleep before we hit the highway.
To be fair, I did get up a few times. So it wasn’t a deep sleep. Does that count?
Here I am waking up at 2am…

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And then 5am…

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And 6:30am…(apparently I slept thru an accident that set us back an hour)

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And then I woke up to this…

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And this…

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Totally worth the lack of sleep (on my husband’s part).

*GIVEAWAY* WINNER ANNOUNCED!!

 

 

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DRUM ROLL PLEASE!! The winner is….

 

http://onthehomefrontandbeyond.wordpress.com

 

Whoo hoo!!  Go check out her awesome blog too. Congrats!

 

 

 

Something Fishy

Today’s post was going to be a mushy, gushy Valentine cooking post. A step by step of me making my husband’s all time favorite pasta –  fra diavolo.  Shrimp, bay scallops and squid. I was going to talk about my favorite shortcut. Rao’s tomato sauce. It’s $9 a jar – and yes, making real sauce is easy and it costs $2 – what’s your point? I was going to tell you not to be scared of shortcuts, or squid. That it’s no biggie. I’ve done it before. It cooks in a couple of seconds and people are impressed.  And I had pictures…tons of freaking pictures. I was going to show you how brave I am. Buying, cleaning, chopping squid like it was my business. I’ve done it before. No big thaang.  But then something happened.  (if you are my husband, for the love of god, stop reading this).

As I cleaned the squid…I found….gulp….a little baby fish inside!! 

Hold me.

After I stared at it for a few minutes and the nausea had worn off, I washed my hands and did what all smart people faced with oddities do – I YouTubed it, and googled it, and Wiki’d it, and Web MD’d it (just in case).  The people of the internet told me it’s normal. Happens all the time. Feed it to my cat, etc. But even now, hours later, I shiver when I think of it. Maybe the squid had a last meal and didn’t have time to finish, maybe it was the thing they used to lure the squid. Alls I know is, it ended up in my kitchen.

I’ve been changed people. Some sort of gross seafood cherry has been popped. I had to come to terms with it quickly. My kids or my hubby could not/should not ever see this.  You don’t understand. My husband, I love him, but he’s no adventurous foodie.  He gets really grossed out really quickly. And I couldn’t let my kids see it – the horror the horror!

So like every good mother and wife, I got rid of the evidence and pretended all was good.

Now, safe in my bed, I can finally come to terms with it.

Here’s what I went through folks. Happy f’ing Valentine’s day…

I’ll start with the harmless ones first.  Prepare yourselves. Here’s the shrimp/sauce/squid.  I forgot to take pictures of the scallops because – did I mention – I found food inside the food!! It’s like a bad M.Night Shyamalan plot twist. Back to my sordid story.

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Please note that my cutting board is…well..it’s all cut-up. These are not just props people. This stuff gets used!

Here’s the fresh squid. Yes, it looks slimy but there’s no smell and it handles easily. It also easily cuts into the calamari ringlets.

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And then, as I clean it. I notice this little guy or gal or it. Do you want to hurl like me?

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I want my mommy.

Reason number 8,222,329 to be a vegetarian: I’ve never found a carrot in the middle of my bagel. Or an almond in my banana. I’ll stop now.

 

 

 

NYC

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I’m in New York at an event conference. Over a hundred planners trapped on the top floor – you could see the Type A personality cloud from New Jersey!

This was our view…not bad huh?

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Serenity Now

Serenity Now!

Last summer we spent a day at this lake, sitting, eating, playing all sorts of catch, reading gossip magazines, taking random photos, trying to guess what that building in the distance was, spraying on buckets of sunscreen and bug spray. It was 90 something degrees and humid.  At one point my husband took the kids for a walk around the lake and I didn’t go.  I kept our cooler company and stayed put.  I remember thinking about nothing, staring at the clouds and zoning out.  I’d like to zone out for a living.  I could be the VP of zoning out.  I could project manage the shit out of zoning out. Hi. I’m the head of the zoning out group. How can I do absolutely nothing for you? sigh.

 

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