Tag Archives: change

Mary-Married

23 Feb

When I talked to my Mom on the phone this week, she was telling me Del Minor (Mary’s mom) died at the beginning of the month.  Shaun (Mary’s gossipy sister-in-law) was being all shady when my mom asked when the funeral was going to be.  Obviously, Del was a central figure in our town and my mom knew her and thus wanted to pay her respects.  But after asking Shaun a couple of times and being told noncommittal answers my parents saw in the news that the funeral had taken place—2 days prior.  So I guess our family was blacklisted, which is shitty, though they probably could have looked in the news or talked to someone else about the date and time if they had really wanted to go.  But oh well.

 

So that night, I looked online to read the obituary.  And there it was—they listed the survivors.  And they listed them as couples.  There was several of Mary’s older siblings, then Tom (Mary’s brother) and his wife Shaun.  Then last in oldest to youngest order:  Mary Minor and this new name- Sandra __________.  At first I thought it was some kind of typo—they put one of Del’s sibs next to her youngest child’s name accidentally.  Because the Mary I know would never have her private life broadcast.  Especially if the town of Dayton was to see it.  Plus, how in the world would she even be with anyone?!

 

But I looked up the gal’s name online—and sure enough, there was not only a marriage announcement of Mary and this gal-but a picture!  I still would have doubted t, just because it was so out of character for Mary.  I mean, this is the person, who when I realized I was gay at the tender age of 18, she took my in the bathroom at work, with the fan on, and asked that I not tell her secret.  No regard for what I must have been feeling, how shell-shocked I might be–just ‘don’t tell anyone that she’s gay.’  But they blog supplemented the announcement with a picture.  So I knew without a doubt it was the same Mary I knew (past tense intentional).  Also, this Tahoe wedding happened in 2013? So I’m way behind the scene.  Which is good, because thinking about Mary and the cabin-mansion makes me feel icky inside and makes me have nightmares.  I had even asked my mom not to share the gossip she gleaned from Shaun or the community, because I don’t want to think about that part of my life.  And I guess that was necessary because even though Mary saw Shaun as an enemy when I knew her, Shaun must have gotten the picture that we are not on good terms, so she stopped sharing any information with my mom–she didn’t know.  And as much as I don’t like to think about those dark times, and dark characters, part of me wished I would have known—just for curiosity’s sake.

 

Obviously, a lot has changed.  The Mary I knew was an absolute PILL because she was such a closet-case.  Like, Kim and her were together for 6 years or something when they moved together to Dayton, and Mary was so secretive that she wouldn’t wear their ring on her left hand.  And when they moved neighborhoods, they did it at night—to escape prying eyes.  She never acknowledged who Kim was—even though it was fairly obvious.

 

Also Mary was a MESS when I went back in 2009.  Her and Kim were pretty over.  Mary played the part of the Godfather.  Cold and calculating and in control of the people around her and the information exchanged.  She was cheating with the hairdresser.  She invited me there, gave me my job back, then scapegoated me–I suspect because I knew too much and I was not an adequate replacement for her dead niece Brenna.  She was such an awful person at that time that I questioned if she had ever been a good influence in my life.  Had she always had sketchy ethics and I had been too naive to see it?  All I knew is that I was disillusioned and never wanted to have her in my life again.  When she subscribed to my Facebook page (really stupid because FB notifies you) I blocked her.  Just so she doesn’t exsist anywhere in my life.  And I would be horrified if I ran into her (which is highly plausible in a small town) when visiting my parents.  So with all those feelings, and my insider knowledge at least of that time in her life, it’s hard to imagine she’s OK enough now to attract a new girlfriend—let alone someone who wants to marry her.

 

And the fact the marriage was posted online and done in Tahoe was completely different from the Mary I knew.  I come back to it, jst because it astounds me.  I guess she’s grown as a person, so that’s good for her.  I can’t help but wonder if she’s alright now, or just the same shit-head with a new wife to treat badly and make disappear.  Mary has a way of dominating and being Godfather that makes other disappear.  She controls those in her inner circle, hides things from those outside, and annihilates those she deems enemies–however small their perceived infraction.  I say perceived, because Mary herself knows a few of those people were only defending themselves against her attacks–they didn’t do anything to warrant her wrath.  I have to wonder-Would we have animosity or see 2009 as a bad scene for both of us?  Water under the bridge or enemies forever?  I really don’t know, but her seemingly new outlook on life makes me wonder.

 

Also, does Kim know?  Is she coherent enough to?  Do Mary and her talk or hate one another?  And what does Mary see their relationship as?  A mistake?  Or does she see that she choked the life out of Kim, squashed her spirit until nothing but alcoholic coping and emptiness were left?  Kim probably had a genetic predisposition, and Mary fostered those drinking ways, but in the end, I think the seclusion and control are what really did Kim in.  And nows she’s just a shell of who she used to be.  I feel sorry about that, yet I don’t talk to her either, because there’s just nothing there.

 

I had so many questions!  And the whole thing gave me just icky feelings of remembrance.  One thing you can count on Dayton for is gossip.  I’ll hear eventually.

Gray Street

11 Jun

August 2011 116Well, gray part line. I’m totally preoccupied lately with these few gray strands of hair that are suddenly all too visible. I mean, for 5-6 years hairdressers have made little comments about my grays, but they were largely invisible to me. So I’m pretty sure, unless you got close in great light, the normal passerby couldn’t see them either.

I think it’s fair to say that I’ve become alarmed.  I honestly don’t think it’s attributed to a perception of aging of fading beauty or something like that either.  I consider myself a feminist, and I don’t think I’m especially superficial–as my monthly goal check in can attest.  I’m low-maintenance.  I guess that’s what disturbs me most about the gray–it requires upkeep.  I’m panicking because obviously, at 30 I’m not ready to go natural and sport gray streaks or worse–the patches I think I have.

Every time I stand in front of the mirror, I can see gray hairs sticking up from the back of my side part.  And I can sort of tell they are in fact gray, because they are much coarser then my fine regularly-hued hair.  And naturally, they stick straight up–what else would they do?  I started by trying to pull the little mo-fos out.  Despite seeing them very clearly at a glance in the mirror, I can hardly crane around to actually remove them.  They are situated just far enough back that I can’t see the whole situation very well or in much detail.  And have you ever noticed that ANY single strand of hair looks remarkably gray?  So I sit there ripping chunks of my hair out, and I’m pretty sure I’m mostly ripping out ones with color.  But as I stand there scrutinizing them one by one after they’ve been pulled it’s hard to tell.  Goose thinks I’m crazy.  Even a maine coon has no idea why you would stand there pulling out pieces of hair. . .  So add baldness to my hair problems.

BUT, I absolutely have no funds to pay salon prices right now–and I find 3 hours in a chair tedious.

But I’ve heard really bad things about box dye, and don’t want to ruin my hair either.  And I’m not confident I would be JAEDAable to pull off a nice-looking dye job.  It would be just my luck to do some whacked-out color job, then get a job interview.  Not only that I wouldn’t know where to start.  How does the procedure work?  What color would I even go with?  Most of those don’t look very natural, and I am just starting to embrace my hair’s natural color (when it has pigment).

So I’m really bummed out and confused about what to do.

Motivating Quotes

20 Feb

-Marcus Aurelius:
If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.110617-CirrusRainbowPhoto-hmed-0825a.grid-7x2
-Accept what is, let go of what was and have faith in what could be.
-Bo Bennett
While we are focusing on fear, worry or hate, it is not possible for us to be experiencing happiness, enthusiasm or love.
-Louis E. Boone
Don’t fear failure so much that you refuse to try new things. The saddest summary of a life contains three descriptions: could have, might have, and should have.
bud-Never let your fear decide your future.
-H. Jackson Browne:
Don’t be afraid to go out on a limb. That’s where the fruit is.
-Edmund Burke
No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear.
-The hardest part about growing is letting go of what you were used to, and moving on with something you’re not.
-Dale Carnegie
If you want to conquer fear, don’t sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.
-Worry gives small things a big shadow. In the end, you can either focus on what’s tearing you apart, or what’s holding you together.

balloons over Washoe Valley
-Dale Carnegie
Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage.
-What you allow is what will continue. It’s better to be lonely than allow negative people and their opinions derail you from your destiny.
The German by Cool 004-Dale Carnegie
You can conquer almost any fear if you will only make up your mind to do so. For remember, fear doesn’t exist anywhere except in the mind.
-Chin-Ning Chu
In spite of your fear, do what you have to do.
-Giving up doesn’t always mean you’re weak; sometimes it simply means you are strong enough and smart enough to let go and grow.
-Paulo Coelho
Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dream.
-William Congrevedec 2010 158
Fear comes from uncertainty. When we are absolutely certain, whether of our worth or worthlessness, we are almost impervious to fear.
-Growth and change may be painful sometimes, but nothing in life is as painful as staying stuck where you don’t belong.
-Bill Cosby
In order to succeed, your desire for success should be greater than your fear of failure.
-William James:
The greatest weapon against stress is our ability to choose one thought over another.
-John Paul Jones:
If fear is cultivated it will become stronger, if faith is cultivated it will achieve mastery.

-John C. Maxwell
The greatest mistake we make is living in constant fear that we will make one.
-Karl A. Menninger
The voice of the intelligence is drowned out by the roar of fear.

owl
-Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Where fear is, happiness is not.
-Brian Tracy
The key to success is to focus our conscious mind on things we desire not things we fear.
-You will never achieve what you are capable of if you’re too attached to things you’re supposed to let go of.

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7 Aug

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In Livid Color

22 May

The basement at work was a mess!  A fucking mess–yeah, the f-word was warranted.

earthquake 1

I didn’t want to do it.  It was a horrid mess and dangerous and disorganized, and I knew I COULD do a great job with it.  But I also knew it would take time, be dirty, hard work, and everyone would be mad. Because everyone at my work (all vet hospitals everywhere?) hates change, and cleaning would mean moving things.  I also knew, whatever work I did would be immediately undone.  Undone by both people wanting the OLD way back, and by people haphazardly shoving things where they didn’t belong.  So I realized it would be a challenge and any benefits wouldn’t last.

So I left it alone for 3 years.  I wanted nothing to do with that tedious job when all the thanks I would get was anger over change, and then, the same ol’ mess.  But then, my boss was talking about having us clean it to be legit for OSHA.  And really, that’s important.  What if a cat got down there and was poisoned by Monsanto?  What if a co-worker was hurt by a sharp tool while trying to grab food?  It WAS a task that needed doing.

And having to clean it as a group, during work hours, while being interrupted by clients, would be worse then just doing a good job of it during off hours by myself.  So I reluctantly volunteered to get it done before the business day started on Wednesdays when I’m there by myself cleaning anyway.  But I gave the disclaimer that I would have to move things, and I must be able to do it in grubby clothes as well as uninterrupted –over 3 or 4 Wednesdays.

My boss was amicable to those conditions (this was a job that really needed doing and of course nobody wanted to do it) so I jumped in whole-heartedly.  I figured if I was going to do it at all, I was going to do it RIGHT.  And I really did.  I was invested.

Honestly, I couldn’t have had a better attitude about the whole thing.  And I could not have worked harder, or done a better job.  I picked piles of random items off the dusty floor, organized piles of like items, scrutinized shelf-space to see where common items could be grouped together, and did heavy lifting and tedious organizing.  All of the chemicals went into rubbermaid boxes, all sharp objects into a lockable closet.  The basement slowly transformed from a dangerous vortex of chemicals and lost things and unknown garbage, into a safe, functional, visually-appealing storage room.

tornado

The trouble came with the storage of Rx food.  You see, our receptionist tracks it, orders it, and sells a good majority of it.  And SHE is probably the most anti-change person at work.  But my work had the dumbest system in place for years.  The canned food was strewn around the basement, but the dry food was stored in the tiny isolation room upstairs.  Then, orders of dog food were set upon tables in the midst of the basement.  It was a real mess, and totally impractical–but I knew changing it would cause strife because that’s the way everyone was used to it.

But only thinking of functionality, order, and ease for EVERYone at work, I preceded to stack it nicely.  I moved the canned flats from a small shelf, a small side-mounted cupboard,  the bench, and a couple of side shelves to one larger set of shelves, where it could be in one easy to see location.  And this went over well with all staff.  Lovely surprise to me!

But then I had an extra empty shelf.  And I knew it would get cluttered with disorganized crap right away if I didn’t fill it.  So I thought–what can I put there?  And it came to me–it would really be ideal to have all the food in one place.  I’ll move the dry food from the top floor to the basement.  But there was a series of hoops to jump through:  The small shelves were fastened to the wall (2nd vet pried them off for me), the shelf upstairs was heavy (my boss carted it down the stairs with me), the shelf we just struggled to get downstairs wouldn’t fit down the basement stairs (3 people helped disassemble those shelves), those shelves were weird to put together (the book-keeper helped me re-build them), there was a large amount of dry food in stock to carry down 2 flights of stairs (3 of us hauled them over an hour).  Got all that?  So there was nothing easy about moving the dry food to the basement so all the food could be in one place.  AND everyone (except the receptionist) helped accomplish it.  But it would be easy, and worthwhile, and practical so it was all worth it.

I came in early to work on part 3 of the basement project (the side room containing Christmas decorations, I131 leftovers, and large yard items) and to my surprise half of the main room had been disassembled.  Similar items I had so carefully stacked off the floor were tossed to the floor randomly.  I’m sure if it had been any easier of a job, I would have come in to the dry food placed in its former locale.  The food looked much as it had before I touched it–with the addition of all the dry.  On the order of 6 groupings of items were moved out of probably hundreds, but it was an affront none-the-less.  They (the spoiled receptionist) had carelessly un-organized my work.  And I’m sure there had been a hissy fit about the changes I’d made.

They (namely, my boss, who ultimately controls all aspects of the hospital) let her move things back where they were.  Under the pretense there was no room for the new food.  Which I KNOW is B.S., because they also moved food I already found a place for, back to the middle.  I’m sure it was all about being change-averse.

DisasTER

Tears came to my eyes.  They had figuratively punched me in the stomach.  All of my hard work, it felt like, was compromised.  Why continue cleaning and organizing?  They were sure to hate it and ruin it anyway. . .  Then, the more I thought about it–the less sad I was and the madder I became.  WHY would they be so thankless about my working so hard to make all of our lives easier?  More importantly, why was this allowed?  I had to say something.  I had worked too hard to apologize for moving things.  I had gone too far, to let them selfishly destroy it.  This wasn’t right.

When my boss came in, I truthfully told her I almost cried when I saw the basement.  And true to form, she (hating confrontation and wanting everyone to like her) said she had nothing to do with it. And I told her she put me in a bad position then didn’t have the decency to protect me when the going got rough (receptionist temper-tantrum).  Then everyone made excuses that there wasn’t enough room.  Which they just may have believed.  Because vets don’t pay attention to details such as who is doing what work, or how big the food stock is normally.

And now they are buying another shelf.  Because they really think there was not enough room–when I know very well there are 3 empty shelves down there and isn’t it funny the tables are set up exactly as before?  Maybe I’ll learn one of these days not to put myself out there by doing anything extra, because I know where my boss’ allegiance lies–and they are not with me.

volcano 1

On the plus side when my boss “offered” me to work “some extra hours” translation:  Wanted me to work full-time over the summer for no full-time benefits, I had no problem saying an unequivocal no.  If I hadn’t been through the incident that morning I would have taken on extra hours I don’t want or need, out of pure guilt.  So there’s that. . .

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