Moral: Don't leave your keys on your desk. Like, ever.

I’ve had  a few people ask me about the details of what my coworkers and I experience last week at the police standoff at Walmart.  Even as I type this it sounds like the subject of a  young adult novel.  And not a good one. 

 

Anyway, it was shortly after 11:00 am on Friday, 4/24/15.  I was sitting at my desk in the tiny office in John Deere Landscapes supply, and so was my boss.  Our desks face each other, because that is the only configuration that will fit two desks in this office.  We heard a poppoppop.  I looked up at him and said, “gunshots?”  He gave me a worried look and nodded his head.  He hates guns.  I, like a moron, popped my head up to look out the window.  We have a yard debris recycling place next door, and sometimes the tractor makes weird noises as it runs over branches, etc.   But no one was out there.   So I ventured out to the front counter area where Kenny, one of the salesmen was slightly ducked down. 

“You hear that?” I said

“Oh yeah, that’s why I’m down here.  I think James went running out there to see what’s going on”

 

Sure enough, there were a couple of cops out there, and sirens indicating many more were on the way.  I saw my coworker James, (a part time volunteer fireman and gun enthusiast) standing behind the steel dumpster watching.  By this time, my boss was out there and so was a visiting factory rep and we could see that the commotion was centered around a big junky bus painted a flat baby blue.  It was parked in the next door Walmart parking lot which sat about 50 feet beyond our dumpster, which was up against a chain link fence.  Then I saw a cop come running down the adjacent street, pulling out his handgun.  That’s when I realized the situation was not yet contained and decided to go back in to avoid getting caught in crossfire, which seemed like a likely possibility at that point.  I went upstairs and took pictures out the window and a couple short videos of 4 cops crouching behind a car on the street directly between our dumpster and the funky blue bus.  I tweeted them out, and said “police standoff in progress”  Just so word got out.   A SWAT officer ran through our pipe yard with a rifle and made the guys leave the dumpster area.  Then he told my boss we need to evacuate.  We asked him where and he just pointed to the recycling place next door.  So I grabbed my purse and we all ran, ducking down, through the parking lot.  About mid way across I realized my keys were on my desk and not in my purse.  We ran around the abandoned house next door and it began to rain.  Cops were everyone, and one kept driving by in an SUV yelling at us to get inside, but the job trailer for the recycling place was locked and no one was in there.  Then the guy (it’s pretty much a one man operation) showed up and we all went into the job trailer. 

We sat/stood around for about an hour, a couple of us tweeting what was going on, and news stations started tweeting me to ask permission to use my pictures, which I granted.  Then one of them asked me to call in and describe what I was seeing, and they broadcast that live for a couple of minutes.  Finally after about an hour and a half, a female officer came in and said, “I don’t really like you guys being here, it’s still in the line of fire.”

We pointed out that we had no place safe to go.  She told us if we had keys we could leave.  Kenny had his keys, so he left.  James had keys but wanted to watch what was going on, so he stayed with the rest of us who didn’t have keys.  I told her that if she gave us 4 minutes to go back into our building and get our keys, we’d lock it up and be out of there.  Sounded like a plan, so we all started heading back to our place.  The recycling guy locked up the job trailer and split.  We had gotten about 20 feet when she stopped us and said, “uh oh, get back inside!”  Well, we couldn’t, because the dude took off after having locked the trailer.  Now it was starting to pour down rain.  “I thought we had a window of time” she said, “but now he’s talking about blowing himself up.  So it’s not safe.  He’s not leaving that parking lot, you understand, unless it’s in the back of a squad car.  But he’s not giving up”

So we were standing out in the rain, James checked the abandoned house and it was still unlocked, so we went in there.  We stood in there for about 4 hours alternately pacing and watching out the window (directly in the line of fire)  I got a phone call from a friend who knew I worked over there, and she lived less than a mile away.   I pondered the origin of various piles of feces in the house, and tried to stand back from all the windows as they had about a foot of cobweb standing out from most of them.  There was no furniture in any of the rooms, except the back room, where they had used them to prop pieces of wood for sawing.  Sawdust covered every surface in there.  We heard more gunfire periodically, and watched the cops launch canisters of tear gas, which didn’t seem to have much effect. 

Finally about 3:15 or so, Terry, one of the salesmen got tired of standing around and decided he was going to sneak back to the office and grab his keys.  He asked for the location of my keys and my boss’ keys.  He and James went over there.  Terry came back with all the keys.  James stayed in there a few minutes, used the restroom, probably made a sandwich, and finally came back to the house.  Then we all left for home, having to take an alternate route since the road we all usually take was blocked.  But we made it.  I went home and had some popcorn and a rum and coke and watched the news.  They finally brought in a SWAT vehicle called a ripper, kind of an armored truck with forks on the front.  They began ripping the side off the bus so they could see where the guy was inside.  After taking nine shots, he kind of rolled out of the bus, which looked like it was filled with debris. They took him to the hospital where he later died. 

For those of you who didn’t hear any of this story before, they tried to apprehend this guy in the Walmart parking lot because they had a warrant for drug distribution for him.  He ran into his bus and fired on the cops, hitting a police dog.  The dog is fine.  Is it weird that I cared more about what happened to the dog than anyone else in this story?  And I’m going to keep my keys closer at hand from now on. 

Mind like a sieve.

There was something fairly important I was going to write about.  No, really.  It just slipped my mind, apparently.  It was something that was going to anger you as much as it did me! 

 

Oh well, I don’t know what it was.  Sucks to get old and forgetful.  My family is starting to call me Gramma, and I don’t have any grandchildren.  I have granddogs.  One is gay, and we love him just as much as our other granddog. 

 

Here’s one thing I’m angry about, anger.  Why does everyone have to be so pissed off and offended all the time? And “outraged!” .  I will admit that it seems to be my most conservative friends that accept internet pot-stirring as fact and post “outraged” face book status updates and links.  Of course, without verifying the sources first, because it “just sounds like something this idiot would do”.    Much like I would react to anything about Miley Cyrus or the Bieber.  It makes me shudder just to type those names.  Bleh.   Speaking of which, fresh after the Grammys, Kanye pulls another Kanye and starts spouting off about artistry and how again Beyonce should have won for her album.  Him, I’d like to smack.  You can’t just go around comparing one artist to the next and start bitching about who should have won.  The award shows are like the art associations.  They’re very political and motivated by the clique mentality.  This is why I don’t belong to any art associations.  They don’t benefit me in any way.  Maybe Kanye needs to step away from the Grammy academy, or whateverthehell they call it.  Now I’m just blathering on until whatever I was going to write about comes to me.  So basically Gramma is wasting your time now.  I guess that’s something else to be angry about. 

 

 

Sigh.

I may be abandoning blogger.  I haven't been able to post any pictures in months, and if I try to attach it to a new post, which I've done a few times, it eats the post.   I would attribute this to user error, except that not only will it not post pics, I can't get out of that screen and it just scrolls for hours till I have to page back and lose my post.  I'm a tad frustrated.  peace out, blogger.

For Whatever Reason-

I can only post to my blogsite when I'm really busy.  I'm no longer unemployed, for about a month now.   The good news is, so far, so good.  I already get more respect there as a person than I ever did with my other job, and I was the boss (well, the medium boss) there.  And worked with "friends". 


While I've been working on my computer during the day, I've been listening to podcasts, and one of the podcasts I was listening to made me think a little.  Imagine that.  They talked  about when you're writing a book, they sometimes say to start at the end, and then write the story to fit that.  And the question it raised was, if you were dying today, what would you regret most, maybe something you didn't do.  I think for me it was self love, and not doing what I most wanted to do.  Which I'm willing to bet is a very common one, at least for most women.  Hell, I think it's common for a lot of men, too.   They're doing the best they can to support a family, and there's not always room for following dreams when you work 3rd shift at some crappy job. 


So, I plan to spend more time doing what I love, taking care of myself, but not stressing over it.  Because there's a lot more to life than money.  I know, easy for me to say now that I'm older and don't have to worry about it much.  But that's one of the blessings of my life, and when God gives you a gift, you should open it, thank him, and enjoy it.  So that's my plan. 

Well....

I did make a whole new post, and upon trying to add photos, Blogger ate the post.  So instead of wasting a bunch of time, I'll try the pics again, and if it works, I'll rewrite the post.  I do have stuff to do.  But I'm not bitter




And I still can't load pics.  I'll try again later.

Sooo.....

So long story short, I'm currently unemployed.   While it was a bit of an ego sting that they basically threw me away like old bathwater, I'm ok with it.  Because it means I get to spend more time doing what I want to do, and not performing like a dancing monkey to someone else's whim.  I won't miss that.  So hopefully I'll be blogging a little more, because I find it therapeutic, but mostly I'll be painting a lot more, studying graphics, and hopefully enjoying life a tad more.  I've had jobs I hated most of my life because that's where my experience was, and I was mostly pigeon holed.  I figured if I was going to work, I might as well make as much money as I can doing it.  And while that still seems like reasonable logic to me, at my age quality of life just seems a little more important.  Of course I have that luxury because my husband makes a good living at his own business.  I realize that I'm very fortunate.  It wasn't always that way, but there has to be some benefit to aging, right?  I'll attempt to post a few photos of recent paintings, but I still haven't figured out if this is the best blogsite for posting pics, so I'll do the best I can. 

Another year? Really?

Well, I can't believe another year has gone by since I've been here.  You would think that in a whole year, I would've scraped up the time to post at least a few times here.  I guess I'll make an actual pledge to post at least once per month.  If nothing else, I'll post some artwork on here.  I'm still painting. 


This past July, we moved to a hazelnut farm about a mile or so from our old house.  We had a lot of fixing up to do, because this house was built in the 70's and our other one was built in 2000.  Although it's very different, it's at least an interesting house.  And I can have a garden.  I have a little greenhouse now, a huge shop to paint in, and a wet bar upstairs!  My favorite part. I think, is the full laundry room upstairs, because I used to have more of a closet that held a washer and dryer before.  Now I have cabinets in there, and a rod to hang clothes and a counter to fold them.  which I should be doing now.  But it's Thursday night, I'm tired, and so I'm saving that for the weekend.  I'll try to post some pics in here.  If it doesn't work I'm going to lose patience and have to come back to it tomorrow, but I'll give it a shot.

I learned from a "don't" example-

By the way, I clearly suck at the whole "commitment to daily writing" thing.  It just hasn't been doable.  First, because I caught some godawful cold or virus that has me still coughing up a lung 3 weeks later, and secondly, just been busy.  But if we can just let that go for now, I'll explain the title and one of the other things I've been up to since New Years. 

The company I work for has a lot of meetings and conferences, and so I was at a three day conference earlier this week in Phoenix.  At the conference, we had a vendor trade show where each of the 60 vendors paid to have a table or booth set up, and all of us employees (500 or so) were to mingle through the vendor booths, chat with the vendors, learn about their offerings, etc.  Some offered samples, catalogs, some had quizes and you could earn prizes by answering the questions correctly, etc. 

One booth had a product I won't name, but I could have sold a lot of their product had I known about it, for a particular application.  In fact, I could still sell quite a bit of it to a local municipality.  But here's the thing- I don't want to.  Mostly because the reps at the booth were dismissive and kind of rude.  Yes, I can move your product and possibly make quite a bit of money for you, but why would I want to make someone I  don't like more successful?  Especially when there are plenty of vendors here that bend over backwards to show respect, accomodate our needs as a company on price, and product specification?

When I got back from the conference, that's when it hit me, like I had held a mirror up to myself and smacked myself in the face with it.  I am that person. 

A little background info if you don't know me.  I am socially very shy, but I am also a very plain spoken person.  Pull no punches, spare no feelings.  Which is unfortunate, because I don't like everybody, and have never bothered to disguise that little tidbit.  I've always felt that made me very honest and direct.  What it made me, in fact, is mean.  There are grown men who fear me.  I've always found that funny, since I'm about 5'1".  But it's not funny.  It makes me unlikeable, and therefore, less effective in my job which is sales.  It's just something that I've adapted over time, 30 years of working with almost exclusively men.  Trying to stay tough so nothing gets to me.   The problem is I overdid it.  Most men cry easier than I do.

So now, I feel like I've opened a big dirty window and seen the light.  Like Ebeneezer Scrooge after the three ghosts visited him in the night.  Being tougher was something that was useful to me at one time.  Like when I was younger and prettier and men used to hit on me all the time.  One of the good things about aging is that you earn a little more respect and are viewed less as a cute little thing with no brains.  I can take the tough exterior off now like a life jacket and leave it on a chair because I know how to swim now.    I might have to throw it on now and again for a rip tide, but for your normal daily swim, I'm going to be ok without it. 

It's a New Year, and I'm recommitting

I've decided that I need to make writing a daily priority.  After all, the brain needs exercise as much as the body, right?  Nevermind the fact that it is the second, so on the very first day of the year, I've already blown a goal.  Add to this the fact that you, the poor reader will probably be subjected to some very mediocre writing, since I'm going to have to come up with something every single day (or thereabouts- just the committment factor alone of daily is making me twitch).

So about this time every year I start trying to organize everything-I purge my closets, start going through the freezer and the pantry, restart my weightloss and fitness program, you name it.  Maybe it's too much at once, but up until last year I was maintaining my diet and exercise goals, even though I wasn't actually losing much weight.  The best part about that is I didn't gain much weight.  And this past Christmas, I actually chose not to make desserts.  I made a batch of cookie dough, most of which I sent home frozen with my son.  But I didn't make one pie, cake or pastry.  Not even as dessert with Christmas dinner.  I bought some gelato, but no one ate it.  And that's why I didn't make dessert.  Because no one else will eat it!  I like it, but if I make it, then I feel obligated to eat it.  So this year, I skipped it.  No one complained, or even noticed, I don't think. 

Hopefully, I can start this new year loosely scheduling my day (work, cook, exercise, clean up/prep for next day, write, sleep, repeat) and it won't be too horrifying.  If I don't get sucked into the vortex of TV watching, I'm hoping to accomplish all these daily tasks, while getting more sleep per night than I did last year. 

Wish me luck.  I'll let you know in a few days if it's going to work. 

I Remember...

This will probably be a short entry.  I'm supposed to be working out, but today is a special day, being Sept. 11th.  I don't think I'm in any danger of ever forgetting that day.

In fact, I was working out that morning at the time (miraculously I'm still overweight and not getting any thinner.  Hmmm.) when Joe came running into the bedroom and said, "Hey, turn on the TV! Some plane just plowed into the World Trade Center." 

"What an idiot!" I said, assuming it was a private plane, "Hold on, I have to do abs." 

So I finished and went into the living room to do situps and was watching the coverage, thinking a private jet pilot might have made a miscalculation or had a heart attack or something.  Then I looked closer and realized it was a commercial airline.   Then, as we watched, a second plane slammed into the second tower and we knew it was no mistake.

I went on to work (in the same building where I work now), we hooked up a TV in the main lobby and all stood around watching the news trying to figure out what was really happening, marveling at how ironic it was that the date was 911.  One of the office girls who's super (and falsely) religious husband wouldn't let them watch TV wandered in and said, "Hey, what's everybody watching?"

What, indeed.  We still didn't know for sure.  

Most of those people I worked with are gone now, some dead, and some just moved on to other jobs.  We pulled the flatbed tractor trailer into the front part of the building, stood on it that night and held a candlelight vigil for the victims.  It seemed like the whole area was filled with candles and mourners.

Days like this one remind me that no matter what I have to do for work or to survive, I must not forget what keeps my soul alive- family, friends, and creating. 

An update, a year overdue

So, since I haven't been here in a really long time, I'll stop promising that I'm going to get better at updating this, since I never follow through.  But I will brief you on what's been going on. 

I went back to work at the nightmare company that laid me off for 6 months, and in a very short time, I found myself being appointed manager of the branch of the company that I had started with 16 years ago.  Shortly after that, they announced that they would be liquidating the company, something most of us had seen coming for years, but things were so bad for so long, that we were finally pretty surprised when it actually came to pass. 

As soon as it was announced that this company was closing, a feeding frenzy began with other companies trying to hire all of us that were still with this company, presumably because they wanted the customer base that would follow us and maybe wanted some of the seasoned people that had lots of industry insight. 

So, after all the smoke settled, I'm managing the SAME branch, but it's owned by another company, and I am working with the 2 best of the employees I was working with before.  Which is great.  I'm working 50+ hours a week, but what the hay.  They pay me, supply my vehicle and the gas, and pay my entire family's health insurance.   So I won't complain.  We'll see what happens down the road.  I might get laid off again, I might not.  But it's working for now.

Some recent paintings (hope this works) :/

Will it EVER stop raining?

It's really looking like it might not. 

Someone pointed out to me the other day, that I don't update this thing very often.  So true.  To be perfectly honest, my first love is art.  Hence the title of the blog.  So if I don't feel like committing to writing about a particular topic, I tend to stay away altogether and I just post my latest paintings on facebook.  I am going to open an Etsy store, don't know if that will get me anywhere or not, but it's worth a shot.  I've been doing some smaller, simpler pieces I can sell at a lower price point, so maybe I'll try marketing those for awhile.  My job search for a better job is not fleshing out as well as I would like.  I will keep trying, though.  I want a good job this time. 

I was on a site recently where a bunch of us were listing the types of jobs we have had, and I realized that most of my jobs have been really crappy.  And in most of them, I worked for terrible people.  I would like to have a good job before I die.  It would be nice to know the feeling of actually liking my work.   Not that I've hated every single job, but I've been able to talk myself up into being able to find all of them tolerable.  Telling myself that everyone has jobs they don't like something about, and they are necessary and I will get through it.  So what I want is a job that I like, believe in, and that treats me well.  One time.  One time, because I'll be 52 next week and I'm hoping if I find the right job, that it will be the one I retire from.  Although being unemployed right now, I kind of am retired, except I spend a lot of time looking for jobs online because I feel I should work at this age.  At least until my youngest is out of college and on his own. 

So mostly I'm looking for work, trying to get my housework done, chase after the puppy, and painting as much as possible and putting the work in a few different places so that it's seen in various locations around town.  Oh, and eating every 3 hours in an effort to lose weight on Medifast, which I unaffectionately call "space food".  Which for the past couple weeks seems to be remarkably unaffective.  Also my back is killing me.  Lord, I'm just a joy, aren't I?

I'll try to continue here with a little more regularity and put some more pics on here.  The pics are tricky here though, so no promises. 

...And another thing!

You know, people on facebook really piss me off when they are constantly bitching about what Americans are supposed to be doing about the war, the tsunami, the school system, the art community, blah blah blah.  What are they doing?  Going to their jobs at Starbucks and bitching about what all the rest of us are supposed to be doing. 

Be a part of the change you want to see, people. 

Do I really want to work?

So, I'm about 4 months unemployed now.  I've been looking for work online, mostly with the state for the superior benefits package they have, which is mostly why I worked in the first place.  So far I haven't really gotten any nibbles, but I'm not giving up.  I'm also shopping for cheaper health insurance, since $1400 plus per month really seems like a lot to me. 

What I'm noticing is that many employers are really taking advantage of the poor job market to require lots of experience without actually paying the usual wage for that type of experience.  Yes, there are Phd's out of work, but that doesn't mean they want to make 10 bucks an hour.  Or that they can afford to.  You can make more on unemployment.  It reminds me of my brief (very brief) adventure working for a dentist.  At the time, I was living in CT and working at a beauty supply factory.  Divina, it was called.  They manufactured shampoos, hydrogen peroxide, cream rinse, etc.  I was the floor foreman.  I was making $7 per hour (it was over 20 years ago), but after working there for 2 months I was making more than the people who had been there for 20 years and worked the lines.  Frankly, I found it very depressing.   So I applied for a job with a dentist.  When he called to offer the job, he didn't discuss pay.  He assured me that we'd be able to come to an agreement and I would be happy with it. 

Not being a total trusting idiot, I called in sick to the factory for my first day of working with the dentist so I would have a job to go back to if it didn't work out.   I know, it's lousy, but I had to look out for myself.  Besides, this factory was a place where sometimes new hires would ask where the bathroom was and never come back.  It wasn't Intel, that's for sure.  Anyway, I went in to work for the dr.   First I was given my instructions on where to park (a pay lot, $20 per week, my responsibility), then I was told what to wear (white nursing clothes I would have to buy).  Then they showed me how we jump out to the waiting room whenever it was empty to straighten magazines, etc.  Then type dictated referral letters, answer the phones, fill out the charts, yada yada.  Oh, and when not busy, clean the bathrooms.  And by the way, at the doctors' command SCRUB UP AND ASSIST.  Which none of them, and I, was definitely not qualified to do. 
Apparently, this did not matter.  I was pretty freaked out about that. 

So at the end of this very long day, the dentist calls me into his office, he asks me how I enjoyed it, I blow smoke up his ass, and then he offers me $7 per hour.  Um, no thanks.   I told him that wasn't going to work for me.  So I left, and he went out and got into his convertible Mercedes and went home, I assume, or to his girlfriends' house or something. 

I guess the point I'm making is that lots of employers are really really cheap.  And it's getting worse in times like these. 

Maybe I'll get a paper route.

Snowpocalypse!!!

That's right, SNOW!  In the winter, no less!! 

Yes.  I am being a smartass.  It's just that our local news station has been talking about the snow, the snow, the snow, for about 3 days now.  We got about an inch which melted off before noon today.   I don't mind the snow for me, but I hate that my kids have to drive in it to get to work.  You have to understand that around here, we just don't get much severe weather and this little bit makes people crazy on the road.  People that will be driving around with MY BABIES on the road!  Whew.  Calm down, momma bear.  I feel better now.  

I actually am happy that there's snow on the mountains because I haven't been skiing enough this year.  The thing I don't like about winter is how crappy everything looks in the mud with the dead leaves and ick.  While on my walk today, one of my neighbors had something on their lawn that was either a used pantiliner, or the insole of a ballet shoe, neither of which I am anxious to know the history of. 

On an unrelated note, I am still looking for a job probably not hard enough, but whatever.  I worked at a job I hated for 15 years solid, give me a break.  I have sold some paintings.  As a matter of fact I just sold the one that is on the beginning of this blog, the one with the leaves.  Which I didn't even want to sell, I painted it for the front desk area of my friends' salon.  So I had to paint another very similar one for them to replace it.  I also decided against displaying paintings with the art association for now.  That's a whole other post, though. 

Hello, Old Friend

Well, it's been quite a long time since I've been here.  Since the last time I checked in and imported my archived blog posts here, I was laid off from my job of 15 years, my last remaining dog (Gunnar, such a good boy) passed away from lymphoma, and my youngest son moved to Seattle to go to school (but really, I think, because he wanted to move out with his buddies and try life on his own.  Which I get).

All of which sucks, except the being unemployed part is not the worst thing that's ever happened to me.  Having to pay for family health insurance with no help from an employer is hard to swallow, but other than that, I'm doing a lot of painting, little things around the house, and exercising more.  But I am looking for another job, hopefully one that I enjoy more and is less stressful.   I don't care much what it pays as long as they have good benefits.  I'm selling paintings, too.   The first one on this blog page (the leaves) just sold a few days ago, as a matter of fact. 

I sold a painting through the art association, but after they take their huge commissions, I don't make much.  So I've decided not to deal with them anymore.   I'd like to be civic minded, but they charge us to be members, charge us to display our work, take 30-40% commission on gallery sales, and then ask us to volunteer at the gallery once a month, plus show up at the stupid receptions which frankly, I'd sooner have a colonoscopy.    So yeah, done with that.  There are other places that are happy to have stuff on the walls and don't charge me to display there, and they don't give me size limitations or criteria I must adhere to.  Which is very freeing. 

Since this blogsite is a little more user friendly than the last one, I hope to keep this one more up to date and have more pictures on here.  Cya!

A few recent paintings..

My blog is where I like to put some of my paintings when they're complete.  Painting is what really centers me and makes me happy.