Showing posts from February, 2008
MORE SLICES OF LIFE Last night I was pulling into my sliver of a parking space and I saw a woman pulling the biggest truck into a tiny spot at the front of the garage. Every time I saw that behemoth parked there I’d wondered who the driver was and how they could get it wedged into place every night. I pulled my bug into park and sat watching in adoration as she maneuvered her big truck into its spot backwards. WOW! I climbed out of my car and as she was apparently steadying her nerves (like I do) I saw that her window was rolled down, “Very impressive parking skills you have! I can’t imagine how you park down here! You’re like a super hero with super parking powers!” She looked up and me and smiled. “Sometimes I can’t do it, but thanks!” This morning a neighbor named Alexis confided in me that she’s lived here for a year and had a parking spot for several months for her brand new Chrysler and was so careful to squeeze into her spot that she’d been completely successful until last wee
FAIRFIELD. NOT CLOVERFIELD OK, I was recently promoted to Director of Product Development at work and got so many letters of congratulations (LETTERS people! Not 2 word e-mails "Congratulations Ivy" freakin' LETTERS pouring out warmth and esteem and years of memories of what my co-workers considered to be my excellence) and I'm so blindly busy right now that I don't know whether to wind my watch or go to 3rd base - so staying up late into the night to respond to each one is lovely and at the same time adding a whole fresh Hell to my task list. Hey, I'm no Emily Post, but if someone takes the time out of their own insane schedule to write you a congratulations letter, a 2-word reply via e-mail "Thanks Sweetie!!" isn't sufficient. I may be the mean girl in a high school movie, but I'm not a barbarian. Recently it's been roughly every other day I've been going down to DJCJ's beautiful new home deep in THE OC for the rehearsals of
POT PORRI I’m not even close to fully exploring my hood. For instance, the NW side of my corner and the SE side of my corner both have vans that are, in essence, corner stores. I pass them every day, either in car or on foot and it appears that locals of Hispanic descent buy many things from either of these, um establishments. I’d call them ‘roving establishments’, but I’ve never seen them move, so they are on wheels, but not roving and they do seem to be established… so just ‘establishments’ may be a stretch, but it is how I’ll describe them. Their wares, at a glance, consist of large plastic bottles of Coca-Cola and clear packages of dried items. Hmmm. Is there enough demand for Coke and dried stuff to keep you gainfully employed and in rent money? Who knew? Not a bad gig I guess. No gas money needed for either of the vans since neither move, and you could just wake up, open the back door of the van, put out your lawn chair and sell your ultra-high-fructose-caffeinated soft drinks a
SOMETIMES I GO TO EXTREMES Not like this is a shocking statement to anyone who knows me, but I'm just putting it out there - pointing out the veritable elephant in the room. On New Year's Day when I signed the lease for my K-Town pad and my landlord walked me and Joel, the building manager down into the ancient parking garage. He pointed out a space in the middle of the garage and said in his very thick accent that this was mine. I was so pleased that there was one available because parking in this area is nigh on impossible and after being the one NOT to have the parking spot at our old apartment -- I am frankly sick of having to get really creative in finding places to park, getting tickets that can be quite expensive depending on the infraction -- and always begging collegues to pick me up for after work meetings, etc. "I have to go home and find a parking spot before 7:00 PM so can you come get me? I'll be standing looking like a hooker who is waiting for her pimp
I'LL DROP YOU LIKE 3RD PERIOD FRENCH So yesterday I get called into Spike's office and find myself with the big shots of the company. They want me to fire one of my team. I listen to their reasoning and they're recalling a litany of issues that I've been working with him on. Yet instead of improving, they've all been loath to complain and things have gotten to a crisis. His work isn't reliable and he is in a critical role. Well, it's not like you're going to argue with the president, the CEO and the VP of production. OK, I'll go see HR. "Well, OK then, we don't see any other way..." was their response. "We're really sorry." "We feel really bad." "It's not like we haven't tried to make this work." I work with such nice people. But I have no problem letting someone go. Especially if they can't do their job. I mean, it must be Hell to come to work and know that you're not able to perfo