Mother's Day

Our daughter could not make it home for Mother's Day this year because of work commitments. She did, however, send me two types of flowers -- the traditional ones in a vase, and the online ones that actually speak to you...absolutely hysterical and creepy. I, in turn, sent the online one to some of my friends.

My husband made delicious French toast with Challah bread (yummmm) dipped in Egg Beaters, but with real bacon (there is a balance of sorts there). He and our son gave me a dish garden in a tea pot (I'm a tea totaler...or is it tottaler or even totaller?), and scads of cards. My family knows that I love and will keep forever all cards. Listen, I cannot tell you how many times I have found money in cards for my son who was about ready to toss the said cards. Besides, the cards are a sort of history, brought to you via Hallmark or American Greetings, that you can touch anytime you open the huge plastic bin in the basement filled with them.

I had sent cards to my brother's daughters who had lost their mom a year and a half ago (I sent them cards last year), and they all called to say thanks. They are great women, and my sister-in-law was proud of them. I sent my 88-year-old aunt a card (we always do), and she called to say how nice it is that we always think of her. I always tell her and my uncle (my Dad's baby brother) that I would like to grow to be like them. They are so adorable and precious.

I can't say that Mother's Day makes me miss my Mom more than usual. She and my Dad have been gone almost 29 years, and there are random times that I feel the loss of her and Dad more than others -- almost a physical reaction even after all these years. I know my nieces miss their mother a lot and in their own ways.

I wish everyone a wonderful Mother's Day today and always. And to those mothers who are struggling to find their way with their kids, or have suffered losses of children, I wish you peace and quiet within your soul and love to heal.

Does This Hair Color Make Me Look Fat?

Well, I colored my hair today. I want to make sure that in case I get any calls for interviews, I don't look like I color my hair because of growing-out roots. Let me give you a visual of the whole process. While the package says it's just 10 minutes, we know that they lie like rugs. Here's my own process...take notes:

1. Step One: Remove all light-colored clothing, towels, rugs, decorations, etc., from the area where the hair color will be applied.
2. Step Two: Make sure that the door to the bathroom is secure since you'll probably be standing there with no top on to avoid having to remove it prior to rinsing off the color.
3. Step Three: Do not invite any other person into the bathroom. This avoids comments, suggestions, and possible relationship damage (emotionally, mentally, and physically if the laughing and comments get out of hand).
4. Step Four: Ensure you have a good clock to time the process and good light to see what you're doing to your hair and your ears and your face and your shoulders and the sink and whatever else comes in contact with the semi-permanent color #28.
5. Step Five: Wear the gloves that come with the kit during the color application. Try not to touch anything while you're doing the color application except for your hair.
6. Step Six: Ten minutes after the color has been on your hair, you may think your hair will be fine, but believe me, those gray hairs are extremely resistant to color, and you are in for at least another 10, baby, including your eyebrows. You'll find your sweet spot for timing the color yourself.
7. Step Seven: It's time to rinse the color solution out of your hair without getting it in your eyes or all over the bathroom and shower and shower curtain. My chosen method is to simply step in the shower, wipe the color solution from my eyebrows first (and kissing THAT washcloth goodbye), and then tightly closing my eyes again and rinsing the hell out of my hair before putting on the conditioner that comes with the haircolor. And, those gloves they give you to wear while applying the color...yeh...I take them off before the shower, and my hands never get stained...see below.

In theory, of course, all should be well when you step out of the shower, but for me, I look like a goth Groucho Marx because the color has spread to my forehead, and hairline, neck, and let's not forget those eyebrows. No matter how neatly I apply (even though it tells you NEVER to do so) the solution to my eyebrows, I end up with about a quarter inch of color around the brow that along with the color along my hairline on my face makes it virtually impossible for me to leave my house for a full day until I can wash my hair with real shampoo.

I'd say that by Day 2 (two days AFTER the color has been applied), my hair begins to look better. I used to get low lights which were pretty expensive (it's the opposite of highlights because it's actually putting your color onto your hair)...this costs me $8.99 per shot which last about three or four weeks. I wash my hair every day, so the 28-day effectiveness is really tested -- it doesn't last 28 days.

I kind of miss having the professional stuff done because it was a good opportunity for me to read all the trashy magazines they have, but I sure don't miss plunking down the extra money. And, besides, I would end up with color freckles on my scalp when it was done professionally. Yup, color freckles. They would vary in size from small specks to quarter-sized spots that would eventually wash (or rub) out...really attractive. Anyway, I have to try to scrub some of the color from my neck and check for spots in the bathroom.

When Fear Gets in the Way

I'm into a serious job search, and I've set up skill set alerts on several of the job websites. Occasionally, the so-called matches are pretty funny...like the ones I get for junior scientist or financial planner...not sure how they're being keyed off of my profile.

Anyway, I have gotten a few that have come really close to what I have always seen myself doing, but truthfully, I'm a bit hesitant to pursue them. Why??? Fear of failure, I'm guessing. I have worked so hard for so long with one clear goal in mind in terms of job fit, and I find myself second guessing my ability to do the job...even though I've done a form of it in the past. What is wrong with me? Why the self-doubt?

For one thing, at this point of my life, I am not really looking for a high-pressure, teeth-grinding (all the time, occasionally okay), no-sleep job. I want to be happy (and we're not talking deliriously, but happy enough to want to go to the job), want to bring value to the job and the place I'm working at, work with others who feel generally the same and who are not crazy ('cause I've worked with crazy, and it ain't nice at all), and make decent money while having a life outside of work. If there are some late nights or early mornings, or even a weekend, I can deal with that...I just do not want to be in the cross-hairs all the time. A certain amount of tension keeps you alert, but then just a bit more can put you over the edge, depending on what you're doing and who you're working for...am I right?

So, do I go for the higher profile job(s), take the mundane one of essentially babysitting another person's life, or is it possible anymore to find that happy medium (again) that is a balance of light and dark?

Ugh...unemployment stinks.

So When Do You Say "When" to a Blog?

What does it mean when your blog is never read or commented on? It is a case of lack of publicity or simply a bad blog?

I've told some of my friends about my blog, and I've gotten the polite, "You're such a funny writer, etc.," but no one has added comments. I have only one so-called follower, and it's a loyal relative of mine. I'm a failure as a blogger...woe is me (or should I say "whoa?").

Different topic all together...have you ever looked at the skin on your face as you are looking down? I remember a Golden Girls episode when Blanche talked about the pros and cons of being on your back with your lover: the skin on your face smooths out, and you look much younger, but then gravity makes your breasts fall to either side of your chest. And, if you are the one above the other, your breasts are in full bloom, but the skin on your face has sagged to the center...neither of which are pretty pictures. The reason I'm talking about this is because I was doing some eyebrow tweezing in my living room -- it has good light in there, much like the makeup light in the car -- and I realized that what passed for a decent face in the bathroom light and mirror looked pudding-like and just plain bad looking down into that makeup mirror I had propped up on my coffee table.

Anyway, it was just a thought I figured I'd pass on to cyberspace.

When It Really Hits the Fan (Or You Step in It)

I have been unemployed since January of this year (2010). Initially, it was a shock, but I had a very generous severance package that helped, so sitting home during those awful snow storms wasn't so bad.

I don't have my severance package anymore, and therefore, no benefits package either. So I called the other Fortune 500 company that I worked for and retired from to sign back up to their benefits program. Okay, can we say holy friggin' sticker shock?!!! For the first time in my entire life, I am without benefits. I have always been the one providing benefits for the family, so to be without benefits is just plain embarrassing and very scary. Even though it's just my husband and me now, the best package (and "best" meaning the most coverage and no in- and out-of-network crap) will cost me -- as a retiree no less -- $1,200 a month! I actually said to the benefits representative "Holy Piss." She laughed, but it didn't do me any friggin' good to know that my husband and I, who have a large wicker basket of the myriad of meds we take to lower our blood pressure, cholesterol, and make my GERD stop rumbling like that volcano in Iceland, are poo out of luck until the package from my most recent Fortune 500 employer arrives for COBRA coverage (which, by the way. is close to half of the one offered by the first company).

I am ashamed (just a bit) that I do not know the ins and outs of the whole Obama health care plan, but is there something in it to fix this type of situation? So, I can choose the overpriced benefits plan and pay it, but that means that our mortgage won't get paid (along w/the taxes attached) which is not a good thing.

Let's stop here for a moment and think about it, shall we? Hmmmm...still not feeling any relief to the pains in my stomach.

How Do I Know When It's Time to Reinvent Myself?

I'm sorry, but I have just about had it with all the articles about people reinventing themselves. How does one know when it's time to reinvent one's self, and how the hell does one go about it?

If I were to reinvent myself, I'd sure as heck put myself in a better body than the one I'm in right now...say my 22-year-old body would be a good start. Now that was a great body! I am unemployed, and I want to stop being unemployed, but if companies are not willing to pay more than a weekly unemployment check, then there is something drastically wrong with the system. I mean, really? If I was 22 years old and did not have the history of life's expenditures tied to me, maybe I would be more receptive to the just-above-minimum wage salaries out there, but I am not.

When I consider this whole reinvention thing, I try to picture myself doing something entirely different from what I've done most of my career -- give or take a bit of what may be considered reinvention along the way -- and I come up with nothing. For the most part, I actually liked doing what I've mostly done.

Anyway, I in an off mood, and I am about ready to run away from home. I'll be fine when the chocolate kicks into my not-22-years-old-any-more body.

Are Job Fairs...Fair?

So I went to a job fair up at the local community college yesterday. I pretty much dressed as I would for work, and printed out 10 copies of my resume on nice paper stock. I've been to other job fairs and was totally not impressed, but I figured, what the heck.

Of course, the parking lot was full that was near the gymnasium. That meant we had to park at the lot that was across the street and down the hill from the campus. Thinking that there was only badge-card access for the building that had elevators (there wasn't...found that after summiting Mt. Kilimanjaro), I tackled the mountain of steps to the main walkway on the campus. Let me tell you right now, it is a good thing that I do my 40 minutes at the gym on the treadmill and the bike each morning because this babe was sucking air pretty badly when I got to the top. I sat on a bench with another "woman of a certain age" and we kept encouraging each other to breathe. Oh, and did I mention the sweating???

When I got into the gym, the amount of people and the variety of people in terms of age, gender, and types of dress was overwhelming. There were mostly health care places looking for RNs or aides, and radio stations (mostly rock) looking for account executives. I actually left my hard copy resume with one of the colleges, and listened as the other companies that I was interested in encourage everyone to register on their websites. Oh, and did I mention the sweating???

What a bust. I am so nervous about trying to keep up with my bills and stressed to the max. I am having dreams that I'm back at my former employer, but I know there is no chance of that at this point. There is no market out there for people who have been in the job market for 30-40 years...evidenced by the older men who were asking a lot of questions about becoming linemen for the local utility company. The sweet young thing answering their questions probably could not imagine any of them hanging off of a utility pole to do work (I think they were even older than me, if you can believe it).

Ugh, I keep kicking myself for leaving the IT organization two years ago to pursue what I thought was a great opportunity. Why did I let myself be talked into that friggin' job by the then-VP??? Aauuuugggghhhh!

That is absolutely the last job fair I'm going to...so unproductive.

When Visiting Cemeteries...Bring a Rock or Flowers

We used to live down the street from a cemetery with the ornate crosses and statues, and we would stand in the street and look at the gravestones and imagine that Christ was climbing down from the cross and making his way to us. Of course, during this time (late 1950s), we also thought our shoulder blades were really where our wings would sprout when we died and became angels. You'll have to cut us some slack, it was the time of Eisenhower in the White House and being outside playing trumped anything that was on television at that time. We had skate keys around our neck, and the girl up the street and I would play "Lost on an Island" using an old blanket on the summer sun-warmed sidewalk. We would imagine a lot of things on that island. We also played "The Mummy" no doubt encouraged by that cemetery and the movies that we would watch on Million Dollar Movie.

My parents, especially our mother, would bring us to the cemetery where her parents and other relatives on both sides were buried. It was a big pain and I just did not understand why we would go there to stand on the ground above dead people. Of course, we would be surrounded by the ornateness of the cemetery with its crosses and statues and the like...just plain creepy.

I have always believed that I would be cremated and spread out over the Atlantic Ocean somewhere. I definitely do not want any religious junk, just a party to celebrate the people I loved and the life they gave me and we gave each other. No wake at a funeral home for me with people milling around, no sir. Use that money to have a buffet and when the food runs out, so be it. It'll be the wedding reception I didn't have when I got married.

But something has occurred that has me rethinking the whole cremation thing. Since he was able to drive, my now-adult son has gone up to the Jewish cemetery to visit his grandparents and great grandparents' graves (on his Dad's side). He places a rock on each of the headstones and just hangs out with them. The only person he ever knew was his grandfather and only for six years. And you know what, he finds a comfort there among the plain, but descriptive headstones. I have no qualms visiting there myself -- a Jewish cemetery is really a lot different from a Catholic one...no spooky statues or crosses or cherubs. By the way, both of my parents were cremated, and my brothers and I walked into the woods a year after they died to spread their ashes around my father's tree stand he used for deer hunting. We waited a year because I was pregnant with my daughter when we lost our parents. I am sure my mother was saying something like, "You sonofabitch, all the time you spent in these woods, and now I'm here too?!"

We visited the Jewish cemetery just recently and placed rocks on my husband and children's relatives. My son and I went the next day to the Catholic cemetery where my sister-in-law is (right next to her parents). My brother picked out a very beautiful black marble headstone with a couple on a bench etched into it...no crosses or statues. The creepy factor is still there, however, because my brother's name is also etched into it.

After we got home, my son informed me that he would prefer I didn't get cremated and spread in the ocean or wherever and that he would like me someplace where he could visit once and awhile. I'm guessing the whole urn in the living room to be introduced to the sluts my husband will no doubt start dating after my passing is also out of the question. So now, my husband and I have started talking about what we're going to do. Neither of us, but especially me, will be able to go into the Jewish cemetery. And, there is no way in hell that I'd be buried in a Catholic cemetery (even if it's okay). You think that there has to be a non-denominational cemetery somewhere, right?

Well, it's something to ponder as my brother cleans out his house and prepares to move to North Carolina with his fiancee (which is a story unto itself, let me tell you).

Voice Mail and Saying "When" and Friends

So, when do we know enough is enough when we leave a voice mail for someone? Do we measure its content, the number of sentences, or how many minutes?

I just had the mother of a VM from a long-time friend (and we're talking looooong time friend...from third grade) that went on about a VM she left at my former job after I left, and the dates of our high school reunion (which I already knew 'cause I am a gold member of Classmates after all). By the way, never got that VM because I was already gone from the job...sorry!

I am absolutely guilty of leaving big-ass VMs at times. You kind of forget that the other person is not really there listening, and you go on and on as if you're actually having a conversation with that person. Is it a sign of the times or of age?

On another subject, I had dinner last night with three of my friends from work. I don't want to come off all Oprah, but it was such a restorative experience...much like visiting my former workplace last week. Friends, especially women friends for us chicks, are the best mirror of us we can have at times. We talked and laughed about our lives and others whose lives are beyond bizarro, and we had no fear of putting it out there.

If it is a true friendship, the smack to the head you get from a friend can be the wake-up to reality you need. When you're with women who are near your age or are in relatively the same place as you are with kids, work, etc., you can empathize with each other and feel like if you start to slip into a funk, a hand or hands will grab at you -- sometimes none too gently, but loving just the same -- and pull you up and be a support.

My daughter has a network of friends, and it is pretty much the same with them. Some friends she has known since high school, others from college, still others from work. Each of us serves a purpose and touches the other with our own special "something" that can be very powerful in its love and bluntness.

My friend who left the 10-minute monologue is one who I don't see on a regular basis, but who I have loved since meeting her in the third grade. When we connect -- either by phone or in person -- there is no sense of the distance of time...we pick up where we left off. While her life is a lot different from mine, it is also part of the woven fabric of it.

So, as for long-winded voice mails, we'll have to work on that. As for friends, the longer, the better!

When Realization Hits You Full in the Face...

...It isn't pretty! I have been out of work for three months, and I have to tell you, I am not in a happy place.

The First Month...wasn't too bad because I felt like I had a pretty good chance of regaining employment with my former employer thanks to the encouragement I had gotten from management and HR.

The Second Month...was a snowy and stormy one, and I appreciated not having to get stuck in the bad weather driving to and from work. However, it was just around this time I realized that the magic of my return to work was fading.

The Third Month...has been the worse because while I've done all the "right" things in redoing my resume, attending classes through the transition company provided by my former employer, and posting my resume to job websites and applying to jobs, I have not gotten one bite except for that creepy call the other night. Am I under-qualified, over-qualified, or just over the hill? Let's face it, I am certainly no millenial baby. Has "boom" in the Baby Boom generation fast becoming a pfssst?

What the F*** Now? I am sad that I feel that I've lost any chance of returning to my former employer. I am also pretty pissed off that I am in this position considering I was not fired, but let go because of a decision I made almost a year ago to change roles within a company I had worked in for six years and that I really liked, but who did not have the headcount for me to stay.

Financially, life is a suck hole, and I do not know what we're going to do, and it scares the hell out of me. I want to thank the Bush administration and the corporate fat cats whose arrogance put this country into this economic sewage...how's it going for all of you paying your bills?

When Your Job is Finding a Job...

I have been out of work since January of this year. It's the first time in 40 years that I "lost" a job. It's not a good place to be for most of us.

Pros? (Can we find the silver lining in this...let us try...shall we?)

• I missed driving in some seriously bad snow storms and getting stuck on Route 84.
• My 2005 car remains just a smidge under 100k miles.
• Less wear and tear on my work wardrobe.
• I did some killer organizing of personal file system.
• The cats are way happy to have me around.
• I'm cooking and baking more.

Cons (this is the gray cloud area)

• I've lost a critical part of me as a woman who has always worked and provided for her family.
• I miss the socialization that comes from the day-to-day working and feel out of the loop on what's going on in my old life.
• I miss my friends.
• I'm cooking and baking more and that wardrobe that has less wear and tear on it may not be as "fitting" as it should...ahem.
• Financially, it's a big suck hole for our family...the debt is still there, and unemployment, while appreciated, does not cut it.
• Trying to find work after 55 is not so easy at any age.
• My son keeps threatening to walk me into the woods and leave me (the bastard!) which is akin to what some societies did or still do with their older members.

Along with all the above, I am just plain embarassed to talk about being "let go" because I always prided myself on being a good and valued employee. Now I'm one of those women who are home...it's not a good thing for me, okay?

I have posted my resume on more websites than I can remember my ID and PW for, and the most "promising" contact I got was from a guy who called me at home on a Friday night, and when I searched through Google on the company (he was insulted I had never heard of them), there was a lot of information to read through that led me to believe that it was a pyramid type of sales job...he did ask me if I liked to help people.

It's pretty discouraging to look for jobs in my area because the salary grid is so low. When a real job pays less per week than unemployment, what does that tell you.

Mostly, though, I miss ME.

Read This Within 5 Minutes & Send to 5 People or Else...

How many times have you received one of those chain-letter emails that are usually spiritual in nature and contain a decent sentiment, but at the very end says something like, "Now send this to 10 people--including the person who sent it to you--within 17 nanoseconds, and something wonderful will happen/you'll get your heartfelt wish/your waistline will shrink, etc." And, if you don't send it within the specified time to the specified number of people, you are a loser, scabs will break out on your body, and the angels will spit in your face. Do you hate them as much as I do? I usually either delete them completely, or edit them down and send to them to how many I choose when I choose without all the BS about time limits and loser points accrued.

And, what about those bleeding heart ones (and remember, I am a liberal) that plead with you about the lost little girl, puppies, virginity, etc., and all you have to do is search in Google (I love Google) to find out that they are also bogus? When did we get so dense about these scams? When will we shut them down for good? Ugh...enough already!