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Archive for May, 2007

May 17 2007

They’re waiting at home

Okay, so I was right. I get to the airport, and there’s 10 people in front of me on the standby list, so there ain’t no way I’m getting on that puddle jumper. At least American Airlines came through with a last minute upgrade for me. Yea, American!

Waiting at home for me are Mr. Hot, Shortman, Poopy the Puppy and Fric and Frac, the kittens. The kittens were rescued in January from a shelter. Poopy the puppy was a Humane Society dog. If you can, please, please, provide a home for a new cuddly companion. Pet Finder is a wonderful source, and if you’re in Michigan, “Meet your Best Friend at the Zoo” is a twice/year adoption event at the Detroit Zoo. The May event is past, but you may want to consider a new furball for Fall.

The fur-clan:

Mr. Hot is my hero. For the past 11 years, he’s done what I could never do - stay at home. After going through a reorganization himself, he retired when Shortman was in kindergarten. Shortman is now a sophomore in High School and I’m a spoiled wife who cannot work the washing machine and can only cook dinner under extreme duress. I’m sure there’s times he’d rather I have a more conventional career, but he’s always supported everything I’ve done. “Honey, I have to go to India for two weeks” - sure. “They want me to go to Amsterdam next week” - go ahead. I got a winner, and he needs to know it.

Shortman is 15 and has been through Driver’s Ed and has his Learner’s permit. (And does anyone wonder why I have gray hair?). He plays baseball - and when they’re 15, it’s pitching, not tees. And stealing. And the real thing. I’m “the Pitcher’s mom”. I die a little every time he steps up to the mound…not because he can’t do it, but because he can. The spotlight is there, the team is depending on him, and somehow, someway, he knows what to do.

—- I can’t wait to get home to them. The gamble of a standby flight, even if it means sitting here for an extra 4 hours, would have been worth it, but instead it means really crappy airport food. —-

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May 17 2007

Misc. Stuff

Published by Ree under random thoughts

They’re restructuring the 19th floor - where my office in Chicago is. Which means that before I leave to catch my flight home, I must pack up this office into 6 boxes (!) between attending 4 different meetings, having lunch with a contact who I hope will be able to find me a new job after Buyer #10 tells me they don’t want me, and making sure I’m in a cab by 3 pm to head out to O’Hare. What fun.

It’s supposed to frost in Ann Arbor tonight. I planted 80 freakin’ petunias on Mother’s Day. Why don’t I learn that planting before Memorial Day in Zone 5 is just another form of gambling? Mr. Hot says it’s 50 degrees and spitting rain right now.

…Packing and lunch break…..

Shit! What happened to tape that used to be able to hold up a hem? Corporate procurement cost cutting means that I can no longer repair a hem with the quick placement of a little piece of tape. No….now I have to pack my own double-sided, extra sticky tape for these emergencies.

So, is it better to leave for the airport @ 3 and hope to get on the puddle jumper that is completely booked already (but hey, someone might not show up and I can go standby) - which means I risk sitting around for nearly 4 hours or just work a bit longer and get in the cab in Chicago rush hour - and likely get carsick - and make it to the airport for the ticketed 7:25 flight?

8 boxes…..damn

But, if I leave @ 3 and get to the airport and can’t get on the puddle jumper, I can have a glass of wine or two. Since I didn’t get my upgrade today. WTF? - I’m a Platinum frequent flyer.

This is a really lame post …. sorry, but it’s just a random thought kinda day.

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May 16 2007

Serious Business, Good Company, and White Blouses

Published by Ree under Rampant Sexism, Travel

Had dinner last night with an ex-boss, and 2 current co-workers. The three of us had reported to the boss a few years ago, and since we were all in town, decided to catch up over cocktails and Italian food. Business dinners, for me, mean being the ONLY one who asks where the ladies room is, who understands that there’s more on the menu than steak, and who doesn’t drool if the waitress is a hotfessional herself.

We talked business - mostly about resignations and retirements; the current state of our parent company and their (in our opinion) lack of concern over their responsibility to shareholders and the way the managing board members seem to be way more interested in their own financial statements than employee welfare or customer satisfaction. We’ve all been affected recently by the sale of parts of the company we work for, and are trying to figure out what is best for our careers and families. As the primary wage earners we figure that with the current state of affairs, we’d better get our resumes up to date and get those executive recruiters numbers back into our Blackberrys.

Then, of course, a woman in a white, low-cut blouse was seated at the table next to us. Suddenly, I was sitting with the Sr. Management bobble-head team. It only got worse when her friend joined her. The testosterone cloud settled over the table.

Some may think that I would become offended. Naw. I’ve decided that it’s actually pretty amusing to watch these guys. Since I was sitting in a position where I had the best view (no bobbling necessary, I could just be looking around at the decor), I took the opportunity to tell them that the women were together. On a date. This, I knew, would fuel their fire since 96% of American men claim that being with 2 women is their hottest fantasy. (Mr. Hot claims its not his, but I bet if I were to meet up with Angelina there’d be no keeping him out of that!)

If there’s one thing I’ve learned after 9 years of being one of the only females in this management group - (and I will say that these are the greatest group of guys I’ve known) - women can bitch about the double entendres and the snickering all they want, but if we’re honest with ourselves, there are very few of us who wouldn’t like that kind of attention. DO NOT read this as condoning sexual harrassment. I believe that if something makes you uncomfortable and you make an attempt to request the harasser to stop, then you are well within your right to take legal action to protect yourself. If that doesn’t work, then you’re within your right to punch him in the gut

—- But if we believe in true friendship among the sexes, then there’s no harm/no foul in open worshipping at the altar of Hotness that is all around us, even in mixed company. —-

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May 15 2007

The Romance of Business Travel

Published by Ree under Travel

Yawn……..Travel days start too early. The alarm went off at 4:00 a.m. to make a 7:05 flight. The airport is 20 minutes away. 10 minutes through security. Why get up at 4? It takes me that long to ingest the caffeine necessary to make myself presentable. Besides, I may decide to change my clothes 3 or 9 times before I head out.

Just before I walk out the door to the car this morning (remind me to tell you about my car service experiences sometime!), I realize I don’t have the badge that will allow me into my secured-floor office. Heck, I can’t even get into the bathroom without it. After charging around the house looking, I find it stashed in my jewelry box (on top of the earrings I changed my mind about earlier).

Security lines weren’t bad this morning….except that when I go through the “take off your shoes” routine and pat myself down looking for rogue metal, I realize that the badge (yes, that same badge) isn’t hooked onto my beltloop. Damn!

Once through security (with only a slight delay caused by my forgetting about the baggie of liquid items because I was panicked about the badge issue), I phone Mr. Hot to vent about losing damn badge. He finds it laying on the walk in front of the house.

So now I know….

….it’s going to be one of those trips.

But hey, at least the panic subsided enough for me to get settled into my seat, cover up with the blanket (hey, first class upgrades buy you some privileges), and prepare for a little nap. A 45-minute flight to the Windy City is perfect …. just drift off and arrive refreshed.

Well, the drifting off went well. The rumble of the plane and arrival at the runway signaled imminent departure. Gaining speed, I feel the lift of the wheels just starting…the blissful sleepy feeling is washing over me when WHAM! Brakes on. Hard. Enough to understand why you keep your seatbacks in an upright position and stow tray tables. Engines off.

The pilot’s voice comes over the speaker: “Sorry about that ladies and gentlemen - but we thought something was wrong with the plane. Now we don’t think there is. So, we’ll just go back around to the beginning of the runway and try again.”

— Somehow, I don’t think a nap is in the cards for this trip. Come to think of it, it’s not even necessary. I’m wide awake now —

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May 14 2007

The Source

Published by Ree under The Beginning

First off - let me empirically state that I do not consider myself hot. That tag was bestowed upon me by Mr. Hot….my domestic counterpart, the Yang to my Yin, my sex slave. The one who broadens my focus, keeps me up to date on current events, and buys my vodka for sanity preservation. (Of course, as I get older and more pre-menopausal, I’ve taken to hiding his glasses so he won’t stop thinking I’m hot).

—- Welcome to my world - fasten your seatbelts. —-

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