July 22, 2010
I may be looking into these EFF people in a serious way... very soon. There is just so much hurry up and wait to get through first.
I am also considering the ACLU. Any other suggestions?
May 29, 2010
My job is awesome. Seriously. My boss rocks, my co-workers are fabulous, the money is good, the work is fun... The only thing that sucks is the drive. It's 30ish minutes from here to there, and that is in my POS Jeep that gets Gallons to the Mile instead of the other way around. So the thought is tossing around in my brain about another POS that gets better gas mileage. Just something for when it is not blindingly cold and snowing (which is actually not much of the time here).
So let's see, cheap, good on gas and dependable... and easy/cheap to maintain. This could take awhile. I may end up sticking with my Jeep- instead of the blinding migraine the search for another car might cause.
May 20, 2010
The one thing....
Don't you hate when you finish a conversation then suddenly think of one more perfect thing to say?! Well, as I can't re-open the dialogue, here is the one thing I forgot...
Dearest PTB, (That's Powers That Be, for those unfamiliar)
When you "didn't" do your fact finding on me, and "didn't lead questions" to "others" for verification... when you asked them about their knowledge of whether or not I own a website... if they answered yes... did you ask them about that site? I mean... did you ask them if they had been to my site? If they had read any part of it? Or did they simply know I had one. There is a reason for my query...
Did you know I own/operate/administer more than one website? In fact I own several, but actually actively run 2. Did you know my other (very active) site could also be considered inflammatory to certain people? Did you know the other site has readers and posters in an open forum format from all over the world? Were you aware many USAF people who have worked or shopped the BX in the past 4-5 years have at least heard of my site? I have remained the ever vigilant admin of that site as well... Hell, that site has lead to a few positive outcomes.
So- did you ask? These precious ammunition providers that gave you what you were looking for so you could keep your crazy bitch nurse and rid yourselves of my proverbial fleas... Did they even know what they were talking about? Did you know what they were talking about? Did you even bother to look up a url to verify the facts you may have to testify to?! Didn't care to ask because you had all you needed? There is a flaw in that kind of thinking.
Trust me, had I ever intended to come after you, your business or your precious appearances, you could expect a far more frontal attack, including names, dates, details, addresses, hell- even physical descriptions... Not the subtle, gagged and veiled vents I allowed here from my own sanity's sake. Hiding all names, details and identifying remarks, I made foggy references, generalized remarks and made funny of my stressful work-life. I called my boss a bitch- that's doesn't make me revolutionary. In fact, I think it just makes me like everyone else who thinks their job (or elements of it) sucks sometimes.
What sucks is that the VAST majority of the people who work under you... They do great things. They work hard and make you pompous asses look pious, and righteous and good. Too bad you are just managers- just like every other manager of any other business- you shovel the shit from both directions and have lost sight of the good intentions you started in the business with. You're common- predictable, and common... you could do so much more- but you stick with simple linear logic... and it may end up being my rainbows and butterflies for a change; no matter how much back peddling and double talking you do, it doesn't change the fact that you fucked up.
April 30, 2010
New Day, Minor Crisis
Left for work last night, as usual. It was a little misty, but by the time I hit the highway, I was finding myself driving through fog banks. And they got thicker- really soupy dense shit- I was so very happy to have that wonder-button that turns on my flood light fog lamps. I could see the road in front of me- not much else, but hey seeing the road was a good start. At one point I wasn't quite sure where I was- just had a general idea I was between the base and the airport... some fucking where. I was thrilled to get into the boundaries of town and see street lights (barely), and find my way to work.
Night at work went okay- lots of running, but not so much that I was ready to pull my hair out in great clumps. Even got to bolt out 15 minutes early. Yay me.... until... I get a frantic phone call halfway home from my freaking out daughter that we need to take the dog to the hospital when I get home. Seems Dummy the Dog found a bottle of supplement pills that she took a liking to and started chewing the cap off of. Fucking yay?
"Did she eat any?" Don't know. "Are there pills scattered?" Yeah. "Are any broken?" I don't know. "Did you see her eat one?" She was licking one, but I don't know if she ate it. "Did you pick them UP?!" Not yet. "Is she acting weird?!" Not really. "You need to go pick them all up right now" Okay, Mom.
While I was asking rational questions of about situation, in my mind all I was thinking was "Shit, fuck, damn, shit, piss, fuck"..."Okay, sweetie, get her in her crate and keep an eye on her til I get home, in the mean time pick up any and all the pills you can find, even if they are broken." (Shit fuck damn piss fuck!)
Get home, google up inducing vomiting while finding the number to an emergency vet service. The Doc was very prompt in calling me back and reaffirmed my suspicion that induction of vomiting was the thing to do. Yipee skippy. Let's make a dog throw up. So, still in my work clothes and very sore feet, I run out the door to get hydrogen peroxide and a syringe. Not finding said syringe, I opted for the turkey baster and ran back home... and the thought of how joyful following the dog around the back yard watching her gag her guts up was just SO exciting. Not to mention the anticipation of actually squirting the shit down her throat and getting her to swallow it. What a treat it turned out to be- Filling a turkey baster full of peroxide, prying her mouth open and forcing the baster into her throat, then trying to squirt it before she wiggled away and spit it all out. I mean, I felt guilty doing it, but at the same time just wanted to get that part over with. The garage floor and lower half of my pants got splattered with hydrogen peroxide and slimy ass dog spit. More yay.
Followed her around the yard for about 45 minutes, as she went from normal playful dog to retching vomiting dog and back... It has now been 2 hours since I walked in the door, and she is done puking (I hope). Did I mention that I had to poke thru the dog vomit with a stick looking for pill fragments? It's just the way to spend a morning after a long night at work... Hell, everyone should try it. Now if I can just get the kid to calm down and convince her that the dog will be fine. Maybe if I repeat myself 12 or 13 more times she'll believe me...? At some point I hope to be able to get some sleep... and maybe not wake up to find more slimy nasty ass dog vomit on the floor. Fucking big sigh.
April 9, 2010
New Place, New Outlook
So after two months of beating my head against the wall called unemployment, I found a new job. Holy Shit! I should have done this sooner. It's WAY less stressful, less hours, and better money. My boss is awesome- easy to talk to, helpful, and not riding 12 inches up my ass hen pecking me to death. Oh, and she isn't a fucking psychotic Munchausen's lunatic, which is a big plus for me.
My co-workers are pretty awesome... It's like a team. It just works. People get along. They can be themselves and not worry about finding a knife in their back. I actually believe that my manager means it when she says "open door policy" and "call me anytime if you have a problem." It's fucking awesome.
I get home on time- as I am not kept there waiting on someone else to quit fucking around by looking busy and doing nothing. When I leave, I don't have to stress and worry about work at home... Not once have I had to think, "Oh my God, is so-and-so gonna be alright?" or "I wonder what day shift is gonna flip shit about to start this week's pissing contest". Did I mention that it's great? That I feel relieved every day when I go to work that I am not dreading walking in the door. Hell, I look forward to work.
Damn. Now I remember what this employment thing is supposed to be like. I guess it took me getting into something else to realize how broken my last employer is. From what I heard last, they are still broken. Good. Fuck em anyway. If ever there was a time to put faith in Karma, this might be it. I am sure if it goes around and comes around... well, there is a lot coming for those horrible people with their fucked up ideas and ambiguous way of running an establishment. I still worry for the people they care for, but there are plenty of good folks who work there... it just happens that the assholes are the ones in charge. Thankfully they aren't the ones who really do any of the real work of caring for the elderly people. They sit around and have meetings about how to dictate said cares, and pretend that so long as no one is bitching that it is all rainbows and butterflies. They haven't figured out yet that the standards they set by their behavior doesn't mean there isn't bitching to be done or problems to fix- it's just that the peons who work there (those are the good people), have given up saying shit about anything, because it either leads to the frustration of nothing being done, or a pink slip. See above reference: Fuck em- in the neck.
The only downside of the new job so far is my poor feet. It's tough being back on them for pretty much 8 hours straight, but it's just something I am gonna have to get used to... for the time being when I get home I find myself walking like I have a load in my pants- that is to say, very short slow strides with as little movement from the knees down as possible. Can anyone recommend a good "on my feet for hours on end" shoe? Mine suck some serious ass.
February 2, 2010
Okay. So... where to begin?
I finally told the admins (you remember, the ones who don't care?) about the horrible shit Nurse Crazy was up to over the last few months- I laid it all out for them. Two days later I was fired- for failure to report abuse. Yeah- it makes zero sense. If I hadn't reported it in the first place, I would have still been employed, but reporting it caused me to get fired for not reporting. Go ahead and re-read that- I'll wait.
Okay, so... I did mucho research on laws regarding whistle blowing and was pretty sure I got dry dicked with no reach around. Looking through endless pages of bullshit, I found a policy on their site about conflict resolution, so I called it. I told them the whole long tale- and at first I gave only my first name and an alternate phone number than the one my work had on file. I called again, and again, and again, and it was forwarded to a cheeky fellow who is in charge of some important shit 'round these parts. By that time, my name, the facility, etc was out so an investigation went on... and on... and on... Took about 2 weeks for them to come to their stellar decision.
They found that my termination was not in line with company policy. (No shit, it's also illegal, jackass.) So, they "amended" it to a write up. Awesomesauce- when can I go back? Wait, there's more. In the course of this investigation, one person mentioned this website to the admins, and they passed it on. Mr. Cheeky Fellow came here and saw that I called my nurse crazy, the admins assholes, etc. (Because I am a revolutionary in thinking my boss sucks, and no one has ever bitched about work before.) So, he decided to fire me again- for my blog. To recap, I got fired, rehired and re-fired. They somehow think that doesn't fall under the same action of retaliation.
Now, I imagine the conversation between Cheeky Fellow and the facility went something like "Well, you shouldn't have done that. It's illegal under whistleblower protection and it's called retaliation.". "Well, we don't care what we do to get rid of her... we'll find something." and sometime later, "One of the people here traced her to a website. Get her for that. Just don't let her back in here." and Mr. Cheeky called me with all of it.
Now, this blog... is my outlet, my steam valve, my therapy- recommended (and read) by my Psychiatrist in Germany. I have had it a very, very long time- coming up on 5 years now. As far as the people I bitch about- they are anonymous. No names. Not even close names. I never once mentioned where I work- not even the town I live in... unless there really is someplace called No-Fucking-Where, ND. I did notice my about me page says I still live in Ramstein. A Google search of every variation of my name produces between 1-2 million hits. Hell, you even have to dig to find personal pictures.
Although they nailed me with entries on the first page... They also seemed to take a bunch of shit out of context- like missing the repetitive parts about loving my job, loving what I do, and having nightmares about the Crazy Nurse and her stunts. PLUS this site would never have been found if it weren't for an investigation launched when they fucked up in the first place by firing me. So, it all seems a bit over the top.
I would post the names on here of everyone involved in this shit bomb- but tat seems wrong- like I would be stooping to their level. Not that it is beneath me, but I am doing what I usually do. When things get crazy around me, I sit very still and very quiet and watch, to figure out what my next move is. This week it is not only to find a new job, but deal with my new found experiences called "panic attacks"; never had them before, and they are not very convenient for my schedule. At some point I may go on ahead and smear all of their shit on the walls for everyone to see... but for now, I am trying to compartmentalize.
If you know recourse for whistle blowing, share. If you are just supporting me, and know intimate details of names, etc, please refrain from posting them- I hate editing feedback. I need to keep this as... cool as possible for the time being.
January 5, 2010
I have never been a big fan of New Year's Resolutions. In general, I find they rarely are kept, and when you break them it is just one more thing to feel like shit about. Lose weight, stop smoking, lift weights, make new friends, blah blah blah. Shit, I could resolve to not hate my boss- but that ain't gonna happen. How big of a fan are you for setting yourself up to epically fail? It is something I can seriously do without. So, no resolutions for me.
That is not to say that there aren't things I would like to accomplish... Like getting back to posting on here. Maybe if I just fucking force myself to sit down and write something- anything- everyday... Could get boring for anyone who might still stop by to read, but fuck it. In return, maybe those that stop by could leave a comment or two... OH- or maybe people who read could make a resolution to not make refuckingtarded comments...? I dunno. Anyway- Happy New Year.
September 26, 2009
Best Buy FAIL
On Monday we decided to pick the hay out of our hair and head into the big city. Had a few things on the list of what to do and get- as I hate shopping, hate driving 40 miles to do said shopping, and hate large groups of people- like those you tend to find in places like Walmart and Best Buy. I generally try to avoid Best Buy when the husband is with me, as he gets this glazed over look, and makes me spend an extra hour in the store than I need to. I went there for a new computer headset and printer ink.
About that ink. We bought the printer at Best Buy. We have one of those Best Buy cards, and therefore they have a detailed reconrd of every dollar we have spent there, and every item we have bought... including the printer model number. As I wasn't sure what model we had, and didn't want to purchase the wrong ink, I found a sales guy to look it up and find out what we needed. "Number 74". Okay. Great awesome. Grab the ink, drag the husband kicking and screaming from the store and head home.
I left the ink in the bag until today, casue I was gonna print my shit to sell last years costumes. Come to find out the little ass monkey who works at Best Buy can't fuckin read, as the ink cartridge doesn't fit. It is not even CLOSE. That guy IS fail. And yes I already opened it... and I am of the mind set that they will still take it back, as it was their asshole flunky who had me buy the wrong god damned thing. Of course by the time I get down there- 40 fucking miles down there- I will be good and pissed. I don't think I will be denied.
September 8, 2009
So Much For "Normal"
The admins at work are a bunch of fucktards. Lemme fill some of that in. There is one person at work who is willing to work full time. (He has a high tolerance for bullshit.) Anyways, he also is having some issues at home... which is why he took this job- because the schedule was less physically demanding- he even told them up front that his family came first and there would be times that he would have to tend to them.
Well, despite them knowing this information... and despite the fact that he runs fucking circles around all of us put together- because he had to take some time off to care for his family, (who likely got sick from some shit he caught at work), they decided to arbitrarily punish him by taking 8 hours away from him a week.
He's pissed. I would be too. In fact I am- we come now to the fucktard part... They decided to hand those extra hours to me. I didn't want them. I didn't ask for them. In fact, I told them several times that working 5 days a week is hard on me and my family. So they are fucking him, and fucking me at the same time. I came back to a schedule that has me slotted for 9 of the first 12 days of the month... I know I am no math whiz, but that sounds like more than part time to me; hell it sounds like more than full time. Not to worry, it is conveniently split between the pay periods so the bastards don't have to pay me for overtime. Bunch-o-fucktards.
I had grand plans for projects here in the house when I got back, and they have had to be put on hold a bit. Not to worry, there is a girl who is desperate for hours, and she was more than happy to take a few days next week and later this month. In the mean time, I am doing my best the grit my teeth and get through these first 2 weeks of fall.
I am completely exhausted. The nightmares have become a constant part of any naps I take, so I have pretty much given them up. I find them somehow more tiring than just staying up.
On a more positive note, I went to the dermatologist last week and had a mole removed. Figured it was about time, before I had to register it for it's own zip code. 2 things- Getting three lidocaine shots in a very small area is somewhat painful. Secondly the most sickening smell EVER is that of your own burning flesh, especially when it is an area being cauterized right under your nose.
I had best shoot for some sleep. I get a whole night off before I have to go back for two more. Whatever will I DO with all this free time? Bunch of ASSHATS.
August 26, 2009
When you get out of the habit of doing something on a regular basis it is hard to get back in to doing it. Like writing here. But here goes.
I have little to bitch about this week- as I have spent the last two and a half weeks on vacation in Arizona. Being away from the Crazy Munchhausen's having bitch nurse at work has been gleeful. There have been some low points, but overall, it's been pretty nice. I wish the hub could have come with me, missing him something awful.
Started out the trip in Phoenix. Well, Carefree actually. Spent a week with my paternal grandparents. His internet was equivocal to a couple of tin cans and a string, and had no wireless, so I wasn't able to hook up my system to it. That was major suck, as when we had downtime at the house, the kids were bored to tears... So, we went out doing stuff alot. That was fun- except that "doing stuff" tends to fucking hemorrhage money. Paying for everything sucked.
The kids got to go to the zoo, and saw a movie, and went out for some good lunches... They also got to learn some new words, like dialysis, canula, O2 concentrator, and renal failure, since my Grandfather is doing somewhat poorly these days. I mean, he looks good for what he's been through, but overall it was a little bit of a shock to see him so weak.
I am now down in Sierra Vista, AZ, hanging with mom. It is much cooler here, (by like 20 degrees), and she has a bit more for the kids to occupy themselves with during said downtime- including internet and a couple of computers... a big desert filled yard to play in, and a ginormous dog who loves kids, (they smell like cookies and dirt- a dog's favorite thing). They dig playing with mom and Rick- and they are constantly with them... and it's really nice. Not only that they are getting to know each other, but it gives me an emotional and physical break from chasing after them on a constant basis, chewing ass like a fucking machine.
So, that's my life this week. I fly home on Sunday- the kids go back to school, (YAY, WIN), and I go back to work, (BOO, FAIL). But as it is now autumn, and Kev is back at work, I can finally get back into a routine that allows me to keep up, (and catch up) with the house and such. Hopefully, I may even have time to keep up on here with writing, although I am not making any promises. There are bits and parts of the trip that require some venting, and maybe some picture posting.