Sorry to have been missing in action, but I had every reason to believe that the nurse who was giving me that nice inappropriate attention had stumbled upon my journal and was reading some of the entries there. I felt that I needed to be very discreet in what I put in here. But there's good news - the situation has been resolved.

The decision was made and rendered to terminate her employment with the hospital. She was officially let go Thursday. The termination was handled by my friend, Corporate Counsel, and his boss, one of the VP's. I found out about it a couple of hours later. It was a day off for her, so they called her in from home to do the termination. I have some regrets that I wasn't able to attend or perform the actual termination, but it would have been inappropriate for me to have been there, since I was the complaining party. I did get to meet with the staff in the unit in which she was employed and inform that her employment with the hospital had ended. Ultimately, the reason for her termination was that she violated my privacy by looking up my cell phone number in the computerized HR information system. The rest of it was icing on the cake.

So, the immediate problem is resolved.

That leaves the question as to whether she's going to lose it and go over the edge. I have no read on how she'll handle losing her job over this, and for all I know, the fun and games have just begun. Let's all hope not.

Right Now I Feel: just a little buzzed
Written Under The Influence Of: *** 1079. Phish - First Tube

I talked with counsel on Friday and gave him what I had on the situation. I'm fortunate that he's a competent professeional and he asked all the right questions and got all the right information from me. He's started a formal investigation that hopefully will be done before the week is out. His recommendation will be configured in collaboration with his boss and mine. Ultimately, it's not the outcome that I"m unsure of only the severity of the punishment.

All has been quiet - no emails, no phone calls, so I've relaxed a bit this weekend. I went out and got a helmet today and i'm so ready to take delivery on the bike Wednesday. I will have some pics up as soon as I get it and take some shots. Totally stoked, I am.

Right Now I Feel: relaxed
Written Under The Influence Of: Tantric - Mourning

Well, a few months ago los Federales sent me an outrageously big check to make amends for having taken too much of my money once again. I made some noise at the time about how I was going to buy something indulgent and selfish, like maybe a motorcycle.

Well, since then, I've been nosing around for just that right deal and tonight I found it. A 2002 Harley Sportster XL 1200C Custom. Dark navy blue pearlised paint, chrome every-freakin-where. But the best part is that I got a very good deal. The guy I bought it from got it for his wife, who, it turned out, really prefers riding behind him to piloting her own bike. Even though it's a 2002 model, it has 622 actual miles on it. Honestly, I've seen demo bikes in showrooms that had more miles than that. It's in showroom condition and ready for an attentive owner to doll her up a bit. For what I gave for the bike, I saved nearly $5K on the price of a new one. Not too shabby. And it was sheer luck that I was persistent about looking at it after work tonight. He had four other people lined up to see it tomorrow and a plum like that was going to be plucked quickly - it looks like the Jeffy bird got the worm this time.

My first big addition to the bike is going to be that classy blonde you've been reading more and more about in here. She's going to look the part perched on the back seat, holding onto me.

Now, let's get rid of this cast and get rolling. It's time.

Right Now I Feel: excited
Written Under The Influence Of: Foo Fighters - Everlong (Acoustic)

What is it with headhunters? What a thankless job they've got. I got
into work this morning and had a five minute voice mail from a
headhunter. She already called me about this job late last week and I
told her then that I wasn't interested. This was a follow-up call to
really push the positive aspects of the position. Salary-wise, the
position she's working on is a lateral move, although the upside on the
bonus is maybe $10-12K better, if it's really achievable.
Professionally it's a more specialised role that, while I'm good with
that speciality, it's not how I want to spend my time. Plus it's in a
market sector with which I'm not familiar.

But all of that is irrelevant.

I've only been in my role here for 8 months. Hardly enough time to let
the ink dry on my business cards. I'm not looking to make a change - I
like what I do, the people I work with and the organisation for which I
work. I told this woman when she called the other day that I wasn't
interested in changing jobs. Apparently, she isn't taking "no" for an
answer. Just as a point of reference and interest, she is the fourth
headhunter I've spoken with in the past 8 months, all of whom have told
me that I'm a strong candidate for the jobs they represent, as if they'd
say anything else.

How are they getting my name? Well, having been a consultant, my
resume is spread around far and wide. God knows who all has made copies
of it and passed it around. I can't do anything about it being out
there, because it was part of how I made a living for a nice stretch of
time.

But please - no means no.

She'll know who I'm talking about.

Stay cool today, T.

As I put this into my journal, P. is on her way back to the Motor City and her husband, Robert. Just to show how damn funny life is, it turns out that I know Robert fairly well. I hired Robert as the director of one of our departments at a previous job . I used to chum around with Robert when he worked there - he was part of a group of maybe six of us who had lunch frequently and went out for drinks on Fridays occasionally. It was a startup business and every manager was expected to produce results quickly and Robert didn't deliver, so I had to fire him at the direction of the brain trust that owned the place. Although it was nothing personal, I lost touch with him after that. He didn't meet P. until a month or two before I left Michigan, and he has no idea that I know his wife, or that she and I used to do dirty things to each other on a regular basis. Damn funny coincidence.

( The Details )

Right Now I Feel: contemplative
Written Under The Influence Of: Natalie Merchant - Carnival

So P. arrived on time and in fine fashion last night. She looked like a million bucks. Life seems to be agreeing with her at the moment. We had lots of "catch-up" time over dinner and drinks, and it seems as though she's doing quite well for herself. She's gotten married in the time that has passed since we last met, and she says that she's fabulously happy with her man. She tells me that she's finally found good love and she's settled down to just one guy. Good for her, I says. We went to The Hacienda just because it was close and it's the kind of place that you can talk with someone, and potentially awkwardly C-minor was our waitress. It wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it might be after all - she didn't react poorly at all and when P. was in the rest room, she came by to tell me that P. is a lovely woman and also that I should give her a call. That told me a lot about her and what she wants. Interesting encounter.

Another interesting occurrence was that M. got her wish to meet one of the others partially fulfilled. She was there with a couple of women and, I'm sure after steeling herself with some liquid courage, she came over to talk with me at one point in the evening. P. is well aware of my lifestyle and so she understood the dynamics of the situation immediately and she calmly told M. that she assumed that the two of us were seeing each other and explained that she had dated me a long time ago and understood how things were. She reassured M. that she's visiting from out of town and just wanted to catch up with me for old times sake and that she was no competition, flashing that 2 carat rock on her finger as proof. M. chatted with us for a few minutes, then headed back to her friends, her curiosity satisfied for the moment. Interesting encounter.

Though we'd really only agreed on dinner and drinks, when I suggested that we head elsewhere, mostly because I didn't want to run into a third woman, which seemed like a distinct possibility by then, P. happily tagged along home with me and we continued to chat over a couple drinks back at my place. Given the history between us, I was fully prepared to give her directions back to her hotel, call it a night and consider myself lucky that I hadn't taken another spin around the revolving door of a relationship that we've had over the years. That's not quite how it turned out, however. At her insistence, she spent the night and proved to me for the umpteenth time how good she can be. She's gone back to her hotel now, but we've got plans again tonight before she heads back home to her hubby Sunday morning.

I wonder what I'll learn tonight.

Written Under The Influence Of: The Sleepy Jackson - Tell The Girls That I'm Not Hangin Out

Sad moments accumulate in every relationship much like the detritus of day-to-day living coagulates into dust bunnies under your bed. We all sweep our relationship dust bunnies out in spring-like fits of emotional housecleaning, only to find that during some future soul-searching they've collected again, thick as ever. Then, to complete the picture, there are those hollow, bitter moments during which all of the piled up hurt, resentment and darkness seeps from your soul to poison you and everyone you touch. I wrote the following paragraphs years ago, when I was at one of those bleak junctures with someone, someone who is now blissfully forgotten. Whoever she was, this is her legacy. After blowing the dust from this and reading it anew, I wish I could remember her name and recall who she was to me - she obviously left a big impression on me at the time.

( She Must Have Meant Something )

Right Now I Feel: sleepy
Written Under The Influence Of: The Strokes - 12:51

I got a call from P. today - an old love I haven't seen or talked to in almost three years. The last time I saw her was the day before I left Michigan. I took her to lunch and told her I was off to parts unknown. It was one of those 'wrapping up loose ends' conversations that I approached with the greatest confidence that we were finally over.

P. and I go back a way - she was the first woman with whom I tried to have a serious relationship after my divorce. We tried off and on to make something work, but like an erection, we were a fleeting phenomenon doomed to a cycle of rising and fading, only to rise and fade again. We wanted different things right from the start - it just took a lot of fucking and fighting for us to admit that, first to ourselves, then to each other. But we were never quite able to wash our hands completely of each other. Like syphilis, traces of us have stayed in each other's blood long after the initial infection. Though we hadn't seen each in maybe a year before I left, I thought when I kissed her goodbye in that chilly restaurant parking lot and wiped that tear from her rosy cheek that I'd finally seen the last of her.

The purpose of her call? She's going to be in town on business for a few days and she extended her return ticket to stay the weekend. She wondered if there was chance we could get together. Just to talk over old times, you understand.

Of course I said yes. Why not? It's not as though anything could happen, right?

Right Now I Feel: amused
Written Under The Influence Of: ** 1420. The Mighty Mighty Bosstones - The Rascal King

I talked with M. further last night about her request to meet the other women. We talked at length about why she'd want to know them. While I agree with the majority of people who commented previously that there's some element of rivalry behind it all, she's also very entrenched in wanting to know about them out of curiosity too. Anyway, after a couple of conversations about it, it doesn't feel right to continue making a big deal about it. She's accepted my answer to her request, so I'm happy letting it be for now. I certainly will keep my eyes and the lines of communication open. If she asks more questions about the other women, I'll answer as fully as I feel I can.

( The next chapter )

Right Now I Feel: moving fast again tonight
Written Under The Influence Of: QCD: [1 3:40] Peter Gabriel / Mercy Street

I'm trying to do more regular updates here, so here goes with all the news that fits. I've had a couple of interesting wrinkles occur recently. The first wrinkle has to do with M and though this wrinkle has been building for a while, it emerged large as life over the weekend. Of the women I'm seeing, M. is the most private and has her life more compartmentalized than any of the others. I don't mean to imply in any way that she is less fun or that I enjoy being with her less, just that there have always been things that she didn't talk about and I've always felt as though there was a lot more to her than she was letting on. Over the past month, she's been more open and talking more about her personal issues with me than she was doing. But over the weekend, this little gem popped out:

( Conversation with M. and more )

Right Now I Feel: happy
Written Under The Influence Of: Bob Marley & The Wailers - There She Goes

Just a quick follow-up on Friday's note. Saturday, when I met up with M. she had on another nice skirt and top - she looked like a million bucks. For those astute readers who've skipped ahead, I'll cut to the chase - she'd gone commando again to continue the teasing she'd started Friday. Of course, she told me about being sans underwear while at the restaurant over after-dinner drinks and gave me a quick flash to prove her point. Fortunately, we had no other social obligations and fortunately we didn't meet any cops on the way home. God, she's great fun to be around.

So here it is Sunday morning, M. has gone home and after a little cleaning and laundry, I'm headed over to D.'s for the afternoon and evening. Unless it all goes to shit between now and then, I'd have to rate this weekend as a solid 5 out of 5.

Right Now I Feel: happy
Written Under The Influence Of: Get Up Kids - Is There a Way Out

This morning I woke up hard. While that's not an unusual occurrence, it was an omen, a portent of what this day had to offer. On a bit of a tangent, allow me to remark on the plight of the poor morning erection. Like the Rodney Dangerfield of erections, he gets no respect. Often regarded as an impostor, an artifact of bladder stimulation, he's generally discredited as the process of biology posing as the act of passion, all of which leads to him being overlooked, or worse, perceived as an impediment. Then, just to add insult to injury, he is unceremoniously pissed away at the first opportunity. At one time so full of hope and promise, he is the poster child for wasted opportunities and lost chances - he is what could have been, but never was allowed to be.

( Just To Save Space )

Right Now I Feel: rushed
Written Under The Influence Of: ** 941. Nellie McKay - Really

We all know what it is. We all deal with it. The remains of sex - the leftovers from a feast of hedonistic pleasure. Often the subject of humour and sometimes a point of derision, many couples have power struggles, feigned or real, over who has to sleep in the wet spot. I view it through slightly different eyes. I like the wet spot - no, that's not it, that's not strong enough - I love the wet spot. If I were to argue about the wet spot, though it's unlikely that I would, it would be over who gets to sleep in it, not who has to sleep in it. To me, the wet spot is part of the afterglow of sex. It's a pleasant reminder of what you just did. It's tactile. It's aromatic. It's reminiscent. It's comforting.

I knew this woman that was a fountain of juices whenever we had sex. To anticipate and answer a technical question, yes, she kept herself well hydrated - 8 glasses of water a day, faithfully. It wasn't at all unusual for us both to be wet from our navels to our knees when we were done having sex. Many times, when she was on top and driving herself down onto me vigourously, I'd feel droplets of her splashing into my face, which for a dog like me, added a lot to the total experience. I'd add my meagre contribution to the mix at the end, and when all was said and done, the bed we shared was usually a swamp and there might be more than one wet spot depending on how active we'd been. I loved it.

Anyway, I thought I'd just mention the wet spot and see if anyone else has the same predilection as do I.

Right Now I Feel: rushed
Written Under The Influence Of: ** 606. Incubus - Nowhere Fast

For Immediate Release

I'd like you all to welcome D. into the bullpen here at Justin Utd. After negotiations lasting almost two weeks, she's signed a multi-appearance deal to pitch for Justin Utd. Terms of the deal were not immediately disclosed. D. has been the sole starter in someone else's lineup for the past three years, but recently ended that affiliation in a lengthy contract dispute. She's professionally employed as an attorney in corporate law, and has interests in music, sports, particularly soccer, and current events/politics. She's a graduate of UCLA and a member of the California Bar. She'll be placed in the regular starting rotation effective immediately. "I'm glad to be back in the game, and am eager to start making a contribution to the team", D. was quoted as saying at her press conference.

Well, that's how the PR announcement would read, if there were one.

She's a short Latina, Brown/Brown very brown skin, very petite and a great conversationalist. I've had a good time with her so far and she seems to be OK with my plan for life, so let the games begin.

In other news, I've affirmed that Blind Kitty Cat is indeed blind in her left eye. She doesn't flinch at a finger moved toward her eye until the finger makes contact with fur, whiskers or the eye itself. Her other eye has limited vision and she's operating mostly on her senses of feeling and hearing to get around. The other day I opened the door out onto the patio. She had been sleeping facing away from the house. She heard the sound of the door and my voice reflected from the back wall of the patio and she proceeded to get up and walk to that wall, expecting to get in the house. Other than her vision problem, she's in good health, along her physical conditioning has decreased with increased inactivity due to her immobility. Maybe I should get on board with some handicapper rights organisation or another - maybe start a new organisation - combining the interests of PETA and handicapper rights. I could serve as Executive Director and travel around the country fighting to establish and protect the rights of handicapped animals.

On the work front, I've managed to get a major proposal accepted and am embarking on a project to completely overhaul the compensation programs at the hospital. It'll be a major undertaking and will require a significant investment of my time, but has a lot of potential for a win-win outcome. Since we spend about $105MM on wages annually, this is a high impact project that will be highly visible, which is good for me, and anything I can do to get us a bigger bang for those dollars will be greatly appreciated, both by employees and management, which is good for the hospital. I can almost guarantee that it'll be a journey fraught with political potholes and technical challenges, but I'm ready for a big ol' honking project.

I guess that's all the news that fits.

Right Now I Feel: blah
Written Under The Influence Of: The Sleepy Jackson - Rain Falls For Wind

Ever have one of those days that strikes you as strange? Of course you do - we all do. The most recent strange day in my book was this past Saturday.

( ...read on... )

Right Now I Feel: thoughtful
Written Under The Influence Of: *** 583. Guster - Careful

I'd made plans with S. for last night (Friday) to attend some fund-raising affair that I wasn't too keen about going to because it reeked of having to be diplomatic and political far into my personal time after a week that's been awash with diplomacy and politics. On my way over to pick her up, I stopped at the cleaners to drop off my laundry. I was surprised to find C. working, since she's been working an earlier shift. Her boss was standing at the front of the store, so she was treating me with the utmost of restraint. As she walked out from behind the workstation where the computer is, smiling that Mona Lisa smile of hers, I drank in the sight of her and I noticed that her loose-fitting cargo pants had bunched up in her crotch leaving a very obvious outline of her nether regions, which I must have looked at longer than I was aware that I did. I thought it was just a glance - honest.

She went through the routine of writing down my order just because her boss was there, and while she did, we did the usual small-talk thing - you know - yeah that's heavy starch, yep, boxed, yes, you're right, it has been hot lately, uh-huh, tomorrow's fine, yadda, yadda. When she was done writing, she pressed the ticket into my hand with one hand while holding my hand with the other and she gave me a very seductive smile and a warm "Have a good weekend, Mr. Justin." I headed off to my car and made a mental note to call her Saturday morning. Now, normally, when I get a ticket or receipt, I stick it in the cup holder in my center console. As I did, I noticed that there was a lot of writing on it, and that seemed unusual, so as I pulled out onto the road, I picked it up and read the following:

"I saw you look at me like you wanted to fuck me. I wish you would. 10 PM - your bedroom - you'll know me 'cuz I'll be the one wearing no clothes."

Hmm, let me think - four hours of boring fund-raiser that lasts until midnight serving as hard work foreplay before a night with S., by which time I'm beat and not that enthused, OR a couple of hours of boring fund-raiser that flies by while I think about the implications of that note and then a sudden attack of the dreaded Friday night fatigue that gets me home in time to meet C.

Well, it's not like I had to think all that long about it. Can someone confirm my suspicion that if there's a hell, I'm going there?

BTW, I met a very nice 21 year-old tonight. She's from Dufftown, Scotland. She's smooth and sensual; very nice body; loads of character; she went down the first time like creamy honey. A couple of fingers of her and I was a happy man. The Balvenie. Good stuff indeed.

Right Now I Feel: awake
Written Under The Influence Of: Nellie McKay - Sari

Well, it’s just about Midsummer, roughly six months since I moved here. The weather has been hot, sunny and seems just ideal to me. I’ve almost forgotten what rain is, and even clouds have become something of a novelty – ooh, look it’s cloudy! Does that mean the world’s coming to an end, dear? I don’t think so, but maybe it’s best that we check on the neighbours, just in case.

I haven’t been terribly active in my journal lately, a few things here and there, but mostly adding comments in friend’s journals. I just haven’t had the kind of time I’d like to have to put into writing, though it’s not for a lack of inspiration. Quoth Mr. Zimmerman, I’ve got a head full of ideas that are drivin’ me insane. It’s budget time at work and I’ve got a sizable budget to propose and defend. In concert with all the other things that fall across my desk in a typical week, I’ve been a bit overwhelmed.

Of course, all that stress has got to go somewhere and I must confess I’ve been channeling a lot of it into sex. Anyone here play organized competitive sports in their misspent youth? What’s the connection between sex and organized competitive sports, you ask? Well stay with me. Remember “two-a-days?” For those who haven’t had the pleasure, in most sports, just before the start of the season, coaches get this wild idea that two practices a day is just what your sorry ass needs to prepare for “the season”. Two-a-days are supposed to build skill level, physical conditioning and team camaraderie. Well, borrowing that page from the “Good Coaches Guide”, a fair percentage of the days in the past two weeks, I’ve been conducting my own grueling schedule of two-a-days - the pre-dawn session and the late night session.

While back in the day, you got awfully sick of your coach and the other clowns on your team ‘cause you spent all your time with them practising the same routines down at your home field, the advantage of doing it my way is that each practice is a one-on-one with a different team member, each with her own practice field and her own playbook. Well, also there’s no coach, though I’m always open to any interesting proposals.

What else? Well my partially blind moggie seems to be losing her remaining vision at a good clip, well it’s not actually good, that’s just an unfortunate figure of speech. Today, she was out on the patio, full daylight, and when I opened the door for her, she walked right into the wall next to the door – missed the door opening by perhaps two feet. Last night, she walked into the middle of an eight foot sofa. Sad. At the present rate she’s going to be completely blind by the end of the year, I’d imagine. Perhaps I’ll rename her Blind Kitty Cat, get her some kitty shades and teach her to strum the blues on a kitty dobro then set her out on the street corner to earn some spare change for some cheap kitty rotgut wine. Or maybe not.

Right Now I Feel: relieved it's the weekend
Written Under The Influence Of: Nellie McKay - Sari

I'm not really sure why we mark the passage of our lives by the seasons of the sun, but we do, and I woke up today thinking of you, and of your pain. I'm even less sure why I care about either.

Over the past six months I've gravitated towards making few entries that are just plain public. While I haven't gone 'friends only', the entries in my journal tend to be specific to different groups of people that I know. I've sorted them into three general bins - darkly sarcastic and cynical; creative writing - often erotic; and finally, more general purpose social/personal commentary.

If you have any interest in seeing something that you're not seeing here, friend me, and let me know, either through a comment or plain text email to my livejournal email addy what your interest is. I'll try to get you sorted into the right group.

I know it's all a compulsive inconvenience, but it's the only way I can keep a complicated life from growing more disorded and untidy than it already is.

Right Now I Feel: just the facts, ma'am
Written Under The Influence Of: Johnny Hates Jazz - Last To Know

I didn't get to the mailbox yesterday, so I stopped on my way out this
morning. I left M. in the car (I needed to drop her off on my way to
work) and went into the community building where the mailboxes live.
Before I had even gotten seated back in the car, M. said something about
how it must have been good news. I must have really been beaming. True
enough! In amongst the clutter of VISA/MC/Amex offers, refi deals and
charitable beggars was the slender brown envelope I've been anticipating
- yes, my Uncle Shemuel has come through once again. Not bad - I mailed
my return in at noon on 4/15, so the turnaround was five weeks. It's
not a fortune, but it is almost an extra month's take-home pay that
invites me to splurge on something fun. Made me think for a brief
moment of the good old days of two decent incomes to play with. I'm a
horribly good boy when it comes to saving/investing, so it'll do me good
to just splurge.

Let's see, I was planning on hitting la casa de la musica this
weekend - that's always a good start - there's almost nothing that a
bunch of new music won't temporarily cure, and I've been getting some
good suggestions from friends about some artists to try. Longer term?
Maybe a wireless router/laptop w/wireless card combo, so I can
work/browse wherever in the house I want. Hm. I have been thinking
about getting a new bass amp that's a little more portable. Hmmm. The
other day I was thinking I could use some new living room furniture.
Hm. Maybe one of those urban assault bicycles for cruising around the
neighborhoods. Hmm. Maybe a down payment on a hog - it's been a few
years since I last owned a bike and I'm finally living somewhere I could
use it more year-round. Hmmmmm.

I can see I need to decide whether I'm going to be practical or fun
before I decide anything else.

Right Now I Feel: geeked

Last month, we made a change with one of our groups of hospital
workers, to allow hiring them partway up their pay grade, instead of at
the bottom as our policy calls for. We did that because some of our
competitors are paying a couple of bucks an hour more for inexperienced
help. When we did that, we created a secondary problem, however, in
that we had people who were already on staff with maybe a year or two
experience, who were now making less than someone brought on yesterday.
Well, we developed a whole plan to shift everyone's wages up and
maintain the equity amongst the whole group. They all did well under
this plan.

Well, this week, it's apparent that the word has spread, and I've
handled requests from 4 other groups to have similar treatment. If the
circumstances were the same, and we weren't able to fill positions in
these classifications, it might be justified. In none of these cases
is it even remotely justified. In one of them we just hired 7 people
for new positions in the last 3 weeks. Not a shortage of candidates at
the rate we're offering.

The cake-taker was a woman who made an appointment to see me this
morning to complain about being horribly underpaid. She whined for
twenty minutes about how we didn't care about our people and how she
could make more money elsewhere and how she was a valuable team member
and if we didn't do more to keep people like her, that our quality and
reputation are going to suffer. She wanted $.40/hr. more.

Well, I did some homework before our meeting. In the past two years,
between merit pay and market adjustments, she's gone from about
$21.50/hr to about $29.70/hr. The top wage she can earn in the
occupation is $34.10/hr. That turns out to be about a 38% increase
for her, on a not-to-shabby rate of pay to start. Oh, and this is for
an occupation that one can do as a HS grad with a six-to-nine month
training program and year of experience. Lady, I think we've done quite
well at rewarding you, and making sure that your wages are competitive
and reflect your contributions to the hospital.

Did you forget that because of the shift premium you get and the 3.5
hours of overtime you get every day for working an 11.5 hour shift,
that your base rate of about $29.70/hr amounts to an effective earned
rate of $34.22/hr? For those of you unitiated in the dark art of
compensation, that $34.22/hr amounts to an annual of about $71,200. And
that's without any other overtime for extra shifts, etc. Did you
forget about those benefits we pay for, that amount to 41.5% of your
salary? Did you forget that your W-2 was about $87K last year, before
our gainshare payment to you? That's not bad for someone who hasn't
taken the greatest pains to prepare herself for employment. I know a
lot of people who would do what you do for much less. If you really can
make more elsewhere, don't let the door...

Don't get me wrong. I'm not personally mad about this. I've got no
beef with people making a decent wage, including myself. Compensation
is one of the areas I'm responsible for, and I pride myself on making
sure that we're paying people appropriately. But every once in a
while, I run into someone who is so greedy, so ungracious and so
uncompromising, that I just need to vent some spleen. They don't pay
me nearly enough to make up for dealing diplomatically with
people like her who get ballistic over $.40 an hour when they're making
close to $90K/yr.

Spleen vented.

Right Now I Feel: riled up

Or,

The Gas That Won't Pass

L. called me late-ish Sunday. She said she acted hastily the other night, and she wanted to get together to talk. I suppose she might have wanted to see me to curse me out, insult my heritage and throw a drink in my face. That's not how she sounded, however.

Like some sort of bloodied Rasputin staggering around the palace mortally wounded , this relationship isn't going down easily. I'm really very surprised she called. I figured I was shit in her book and that was that. I was fine with being shit in her book. I know the role well - I can play it in my sleep. After two pissing matches in less than six weeks about the same thing, and with neither of us having any real investment in the other, well, I just didn't think she'd go to the effort of flogging this dead pony. She strikes me as having more than enough self-esteem to not need validation from a low-life such as me.

I graciously and gently declined her offer of a meeting. I told her that she was right, that we are too different, and that I agreed with her assessment that it's for the best that we each go our own way.

Just doin' my part to help her dump me and keep me dumped. I need to be in this woman's dump bin. I am all about being dumped. I find myself just the least little bit queasy about being the one doing the dumping lately. Imagine that.

This, as I've learned through bitter experience, is the real hora de la verdad in relationships. Putting them together is all too easy - it's fun and games and you're much too busy enjoying yourself to notice how deep the muck is getting outside your door. Disassembling them is a much more delicate matter. One that seems to require the psychological finesse of a master gambler, the steel nerves of a sharpshooter, and perhaps a good suit of body armour.

No more bad breaker-uppers for me, thanks - I'm trying to cut down.

I take no pride in saying I told you so, but I called this one a while back. L. was over this evening and after a bit my doorbell chimed. Well, although I thought about not answering, in a split-second decision that I wouldn't make the same way again, I hopped up to see who was there. It was S. - in the neighborhood, etc. Well, I explained that I was otherwise occupied and made a mental note to have standard chat nr. 23 with her tomorrow, the one about calling before you stop in for a visit.

It's not a matter that I don't want to get "caught", 'cuz they all know about my low-life cattin' around anyway - I don't hide that from anyone - hell, I post about it in a public forum on the goddam web, how secretive can it be? The issue is that I prize my home domain and don't want to feel that others think they have the right to disturb my sanctum sanctorum, except as I agree to let them.

S. was understanding and I had no push-back from her. L, on the other hand was thoroughly pissed. That there's a history between these two doesn't help and that L. has never really settled her misgivings about the poly issue is a major problem. Well, next thing I knew, L. was out the door in a huff, and I don't think it's worth chasing after her. Hell hath no fury, yadda yadda. What was that phrase I used before? Down in flames like an Iraqi Air Force Sukhoy? Well, the wreckage is out there on runway 19L and crews are working to clear it as we speak. I don't think the pilot got out.

And I still don't like the drop-in.

Right Now I Feel: annoyed
Written Under The Influence Of: 311 - Come Original

As I alluded to in another posting, I spent the afternoon in a manglement training seminar. I'm a proud little trainee who can now roll over, play dead and sit up on my hind legs and beg - oh, yeah, I'm good at that one. This particular session was focused around communication, and of course we just had to take a communications style inventory test thingie.

Now, I was in a pissy mood to start with 'cuz I've got loads of better things than that to be doing than sitting in some warm-fuzzy group hug crapola all afternoon. So maybe that tainted my results. Maybe not. Anyway, after the guy handed back the scored booklets, I find that I scored in the 100th percentile on the Dominance dimension. Yeah - top of the scale can't go no higher aced all those questions. So that earned me the distinction of being his teaching example about the Dominance trait. By the end of the first half hour of him directing all his comments at me, I was about ready to show him one of the other meanings of dominance using his microphone, the projector cord and a folding chair.

Feh.

Right Now I Feel: Pissy
Written Under The Influence Of: dada - Ask The Dust

There Is No Excuse

Piloting a ton and a half of metal, rubber and plastic through the streets of the city requires a degree of coordination between eyes, ears, hands, feet and brain that challenges even the most able and sharpest among us. Doing it with compromised faculties often leads to just what you might expect – accidents. Last night, as I headed home, I had the misfortune to fall into line in heavy traffic behind Sammy and Erica’s Grandma. That’s what the rear license plate frame said. Now I’m sure that the woman has her strengths, but on this day, driving was not one of them. Sammy and Erica’s Grandma was paying as much attention to everything else as she was to where she was guiding her car. The topper came when she stopped short of a green light on a six lane road to wave at a little rat dog she’d spied in a car that had pulled up next to her. For the next 15-20 seconds, she made faces and presumably googly noises hoping to raise this dog’s attention. I don’t think the dog ever looked her way. I don’t think she'd noticed that the light had changed, and when Sammy and Erica's Grandma charged off into the intersection, she plowed right into the side of another car that was crossing on his green light in front of her. No one was seriously hurt - but, lots of sheet metal mashed up and loads of aggravation passed around for everyone else who had the misfortune to pass through that intersection that evening.

There is No Excuse

One of the people working in my department tendered her resignation a couple of months ago. She’s starting a new life in the wine business with her hubby and she was decent enough to give me several months notice of her intentions. Good for her. She owns several rather esoteric processes and has been handling them for several years. No one else knows exactly what she does, and therefore her departure will leave a hole in my department. It’s a situation I inherited and haven’t had time to fix. The incumbent, already an embittered and cynical woman, has become ever so much more so since she told me she’s leaving. Bad attitude begets more bad attitude. I made the decision to allow a new employee, once identified, to work in parallel with her for up to a month to permit a transfer of knowledge to occur. I then set about interviewing for the position and identified a good candidate, who subsequently accepted the offer. In the process I passed on an internal candidate who is a good friend of the incumbent. I talked with the incumbent about my decision and ever since then, her bad attitude has turned downright pissy. She is a seasoned professional and should be able to do what she has to do without the editorial comment. My new employee will start next week and I’m concerned about having her introduction to the department and organization heavily influenced by my new poison. I suspect that I may need to move the incumbent on the great beyond long before she’s had time to transfer the knowledge we need to the new person. We’ll all survive, but it’s going to cause a lot of people a lot of extra work in the meantime.

There Is No Excuse (from a few days back)

I had a chat with my noisy neighbor yesterday. Saturday morning he was using an electric drill on the common wall between us at 0600. Yesterday, he and his charming bride were yelling at each other for half of the time that I was home. Not arguing, it didn’t seem, just yelling comments from one end of the house to the other, as if too lazy to go into the same room and have a civilized discussion at a normal volume. They’re just noisy people. Dresser drawers aren't smoothly slid shut, they’re rammed home. Doors aren’t pulled closed, they’re let slam. Kitchen cabinets aren’t guided shut, the doors are let slap against the frame. Noisy, noisy people. It wouldn’t bother me, but for the fact that we share a common wall, and therein lies the rub. They should know that in a common living environment, what they do has implications that extend beyond their little fiefdom. I’ll bet I have to repeat that chat a few times.

Right Now I Feel: predatory
Written Under The Influence Of: Toadies - Tyler

C'mon,you knew I had to use that phrase sooner or later – it’s too good to pass up.

After nearly five months of working straight through each and every week, I decided to make use of some of that generous PTO they give me - I've banked nearly two and a half weeks so far. So, I took Friday off with the intention of completing several tasks that I've not attended to since I moved. That trip to the DMV to get license plates and driver's license that I've been putting off since January was big on my list - it's about time I got legal.

Cassiopeia didn't have to work on Friday either, so we'd gone out Thursday night. When we got up Friday morning she said she had a surprise for me and told me she'd be back at noon. I went to the DMV and took care of the administrivia there, and when I got back, she was there. It was another hot, sunny day here and she had decided to take me out and around the area to show me some of what she thinks are the highlights of the area. She'd packed a picnic lunch and had the whole day planned out.

We enjoyed a very pleasant time today. Laughing and talking in the bright sunshine, we drove out in the country and soaked in the natural beauty that permeates the Sierra Nevada. We stopped for lunch in a secluded spot and even napped for a bit in the shade of a large solitary tree in a field. It was great to connect with her and with nature. We got back to my place in the early evening, and almost immediately retired to the bedroom to play. Later, we'd stepped out onto my patio to drink in the remnants of the day. Since my patio is completely enclosed and very private, neither of us saw the need to dress.

That's when things went south.

As we sat there, I could hear my new, pesky neighbors puttering around on their patio – xrist, half the block could hear them. Rather suddenly, the woman, who usually keeps up a running commentary, fell silent. I could tell she was walking by the fence that separates the patios because there’s bark mulch on either side of the fence that crunches underfoot. The footsteps stopped. I looked over in that direction and saw a solitary eye staring back at me through a gap in the wooden privacy fence. It’s a shame that we were sitting with our backs to the fence and all she could see was bare shoulders. Such a brazen act of ignorant rudeness really deserved so much more. Like my rosy, puckered starfish staring back at her.

When my eyes met her gaze, she involuntarily gasped “oh” and pulled back from the fence. Shit. Does it get any better? First the noise, now on top of that she’s a busybody. A noisy, nosy neighbor is a combination that is guaranteed to bring out the worst in me. Let the games begin. The next condo board meeting ought to be interesting. But long before that, I’m going to have a talk with her about my expectations, the ones that she’s pretty seriously violated.

Right Now I Feel: mischievous
Written Under The Influence Of: Live - Voodoo Lady

Cassiopeia and I met some acquaintances for drinks Thursday night. It's the first time we've been in a position to bask in the warm glow of other people's reaction to the difference in our ages. And by warmth I don't mean joy and love, but rather the suspicion and approbation with which we can expect to be treated. Oh, I'll get the occasional thumbs up accompanied by a shit-eating grin from some other guys, but for the most part, people aren't thrilled by a mixte couple. It offends them.

As these things go, the comments were generally subtle and innocuous. One thing did happen, however, that made the evening complete. The distaff member of a couple that I've met several times before managed to catch Cassiopeia's ear privately and ask her

"Is he treating you right, hon?"

Treating her right? I don't know quite what this woman's fantasy about what's going on between the two of us is, but I'll bet that it's a lot more twisted than the reality of the matter. I think the question may have been prompted in part by the fact that each time I've met this woman, I've had a different partner but the same outward relationship with that partner. I think the pluralistic nature of my relationships has taken her aback, and the age factor was a probably a confounding complication that completely unhinged her. I am the antithesis to her shrink-wrapped-everything-in-it's-place suburban lifestyle.

Cassiopeia whispered back to her all serious-like that everything was cool because "...he'll only hit me in the face, what with the baby coming and all." Bless her dark little heart.

Alone later, we laughed at the woman's transparency and agreed that it's pretty fun to fuck with them, the rigid, straight ones.

Right Now I Feel: amused
Written Under The Influence Of: Ben Harper - Like A King

Just a few questions from a Wednesday. Comment Anoymous-ly if you're shy.


What was your reaction when you first learned that a particular sex act, maybe one you engage in regularly now, involved what it actually does? e.g. "you mean you do what?" Were you amazed, dumbfounded, scared, grossed out, etc.?


What did you think immediately after the first time you masturbated to completion?


When did that moment occur that the whole dimension of seeing yourself as a sexual being happen for you? Did it seem momentous to you, or was it just another thing?


Can you recall the question that you asked that prompted someone to teach you about sex?


How much do you remember about the first time you had an orgasm in front of someone else? What did you say?


What were you doing when you first got caught doing something overtly sexual by someone else? Who caught you?


When did it dawn on you that all those naughty names like 'cocksucker', 'pussylicker', 'buttfucker' etc. weren't necessarily a bad thing to be?

Right Now I Feel: just thinking again - I know it's dangerous
Written Under The Influence Of: The Stone Roses - Made Of Stone

Kathy, the woman who initiated the botched fixup attempt of yesterday snagged me as I passed her office this morning. 'This oughta be interesting' I thought to myself as I sat down. She asked if i was angry or upset about her actions. She offered her apology if she'd put me on the spot, but told me she hadn't meant to. She told me that Jennifer, the object of the fixup, had mentioned several times at lunch (that group eats together daily) that she thought I was attractive, and she, Kathy, had just acted on impulse.

I was very diplomatic - y'all would have been proud of me - but I made it very clear that I didn't want that to happen again. I started with the overall premise that work was for work-oriented relationships, then spelled out how Jennifer was responsible for her own affairs, continued on with how she, Jennifer, had ample opportunity to broach the subject with me since I saw her frequently. I pointed out that the fact that Jennifer had not expressed any personal interest so far spoke volumes about what she did or didn't want. I wrapped up with a reminder that her, Kathy's, actions had caused considerable discomfort to several people, including the one she was trying to help. Kathy agreed and promised to not let it happen again. Case closed.

Later in the day, I had occasion to visit the are where Jennifer works. I was mentally prepared to proffer apologies for Kathy's behaviour and help normalise our dealings again. It did cross my mind that if she didn't say anything about, however, that I wouldn't either. Sleeping dogs, etc. In the couple of minutes I had to wait for Jennifer's manager to wrap up a phone call, midway through the usual small talk we engage in, Jennifer interrupted herself to ask "Um, so would you, um, like to, ah, gotoamovieorsomethingwith, um, me, sometime?" I think I got that verbatim, although she blurted out the middle part so fast that I almost asked her to repeat what she said because I didn't catch it.

Well, OK then.

So much for my fine chat with Kathy earlier in the day.


And, no, I don't think I will, though I haven't told her that yet.

Right Now I Feel: annoyed
Written Under The Influence Of: Chris Whitley - Automatic