Category: kerfuffle

From The Top

And the cycle starts again.

Where is my passport? Which suitcase should I use? Will I be able to sleep on the plane? Ten hours in flight, really? How many snacks should I bring? How many movies can I cram on my iPad? Ohmuhgawdinheaven I’m really doing this again?

Yup.

I’m really doing this again.

A plane ride is nigh. My third international trip in three months.

April = Singapore
May = Costa Rica

And that must mean it is June and time for travel to the UK.

A new beginning. A new trip. An old country that’s brand new to me.

Ever since I was a small child I’ve wanted to go to London. I’ve always felt a yearning to be there. Can’t explain why, but it calls to me. I’ve even blogged about my rampant anglophilia. My fave of those posts is here

When my fabulous cousin made one of his many trips, I’d read his travel journals with a mixture of envy and “I gotta get there too”.

And so I finally get to go, but it’s with less excitement and a little more pondering that I face this trip.

I think when I was a kid and fantasized about being in London, it was all double decker buses and tea and crumpets and Big Ben. Never in those dreams did I image myself trapped in a conference room for hours and hours belaboring even the smallest of points with a far too large and much too arrogant telecom company.

Beggars can’t be choosers. My company is footing the bill for airfare and a serviceable hotel for me. I will stay for two weeks in a town located about an hour outside of London. I will work my butt off on this trip, to be sure. But I also have two weekends to myself to explore.

I’m actually overwhelmed. How does one see London in just a few days! London Bridge and Parliament and 10 Downing Street and the London Eye and Piccadilly Circus and more and more and more!

Gah!

I’m nervous and daunted but underneath it all I’m also pretty happy to finally fulfill a dream!

And so as I walk around my office today making plans and wrapping up details, I hum quietly to myself a favorite Roger Miller tune:

England swings like a pendulum do,
Bobbies on bicycles, two by two,
Westminster Abbey the tower of Big Ben,
The rosy red cheeks of the little children.

Hang on! Put on your seatbelt. Keep all limbs inside the vehicle.

And awaaaaay we goooooo!





Image found at World Tourist Place.

Today’s Theme Thursday is: a new beginning



Management By Latte

At the main campus where I work, we have a huge number of employees, so the company actually has five different cafeterias to handle the hungry hoards.

There is the “main” cafeteria that stays open through dinner time. All day long they have a full espresso coffee bar and a huge assortment of made-on-site pastries. It’s awesome!

The lady who works the espresso machine in the big cafeteria is a goddess. She can make cappuccino foam so firm, you can build a house on it. She’s fast and talented at this coffee game.

Needless to say, I adore this woman.

Recently the big cafeteria shut down for the month of June to make enhancements. That means the coffee lady and the pastries came over to do their thing in the small cafeteria on the first floor of my building.

Good news, right? The downside is that I now have to go to the cafeteria where all the workers are cranky. I mean, these folks look mad, beat down, and unhappy in there.

When I order my usual decaf latte at this small cafeteria they roll their eyes and sarcastically call out the order to the person pulling shots. That person then looks like they would rather do anything else in the whole wide world.

Since I’m usually in an all fire hurry at work and the big cafeteria is a bit of a hike away, I just endure the rolly eyes and play through.

But this past week, I noticed a change.

Subtle but important.

Here’s how it went down:

Me (to cashier): “Decaf double latte, please.”

Normally Surly Cashier: “Sure. : yelling : Mamita! Decaf doble latte, por favor!”

Coffee Goddess: “Claro, que si, mija” (with a sweet mom-like smile)

Now-not-so-surly cashier: (with a smile to me) “Three dollars please.”

Coffee Goddess then turns to see who ordered the decaf. “Oh! It’s you! Hello!”

Me: “Hi! You knew it had to be me, right? No one else orders decaf.”

Coffee Goddess: “Oh no, honey, I drink decaf too. Do you want two percent?”

Me: “Yes, please.”

And I smiled. And she smiled. And the cashier smiled. And everyone was smiling. And happy. And going about their jobs with a new sense of joy.

Could this complete change in attitude all be because of the wonderful, kind Coffee Goddess?

I watched all of this go down with my manager’s eyes and it really showed me something. Made me think about how one really negative person can make a whole work team unhappy.

That’s pretty well known, I think. The “poison apple” syndrome.

But here I saw firsthand that one really positive person can make the whole work team better. Happier. More productive.

Good stuff. And exceptionally good coffee.

When July begins and the Coffee Goddess goes back to the other cafeteria, I’ll miss her madly.

I imagine the formerly surly work team will too.







Coffee Goddess image found on Sodahead.



Wild Animals Are Wild

I am a woman of the West.

I know how to ride a horse. I know how to dehorn a calf and sear the artery if clipped. I have wrangled horses, cattle and even one summer, I wrangled honey bees for a ranch with a lucrative side deal for a major honey producer.

I have stood confidently in front of a pack of horses as they charged at me. I had a riding instructor who made us stand at various places in a large pen and she charged the horses at us and made us learn to turn the herd. Over and over.

I have stared down the barrel of a herd of calves who were naturally unwilling to herd and likely to scamper as they broke free from a trailer and ran to the four winds. I have pushed noses, tails and avoided flying hooves as I helped turn them back around.

I have stood near the back of a horse trailer when a flighty animal came blasting out. I have stood in the front of a horse trailer when a balky animal wanted no part of loading in.

I have even been in the line of fire of a charging herd of insane sheep (all sheep are insane) and got the hell out of the way.

Once, I was almost trampled by turkeys.

All of this is to say, I’ve got a little experience with large animals and herd behavior. I know how to stand confidently and turn those charging animals in another direction. I know not to have fear but only conviction.

I am a powerful woman of the West.

Today, I was out walking with a friend (known on this blog as Worm Girl) on a walking path that is next to a grassy berm that runs along a busy street.

Along this berm were about thirty wild Canada geese.

Suddenly along came a fire truck with sirens at full blast.

And when those thirty geese turned in masse and began running toward me (and away from the siren)…
.
.
.
…I screamed like a little girl, threw my arms over my head and hid behind my friend.

That’s me, a powerful, animal wrangling, rootin’ tootin’ woman of the West.






Annie Oakley photo found all over the web in public domain and used here under Fair Use.



You Scream, I Do Something Else Entirely — For Ice Cream

It’s a blisteringly hot summer day in Albuquerque and mom has hauled her three monkey children to the swimming pool at the Coronado Club (inside of Kirtland Air Force Base) to cool off and work off some energy.

I’ve swam and swam until all my digits are little prunes and then I swim a little bit more for good measure. Exhausted, I finally drag myself out of the pool to lay on the scalding hot concrete and let the sun dry chlorinated water from my arms and legs.

Mom is out in the grassy area surrounding the pool reading a book or chatting with friends. She always finds a lot of folks she knows at the Coronado Club. She’s been coming here since she was just eighteen.

I find my mom and plop into a lawn chair with my beach towel. Starving, I gulp down a sandwich or some cold fried chicken or whatever fun stuff mom has packed into the ice chest.

As the late afternoon sun begins to cast slanted shadows on the ground, if I’m lucky and have been a good kid, I’ll ask my mom for some money and she’ll agree. Cash in hand, I’ll dash to the food stand and procure a soft serve vanilla or chocolate ice cream in a cone.

I’ll bear the thing proudly, like Lady Liberty and her torch, then I’ll savor every last drippy bite.

Ah, summer and ice cream were made for each other.

However, lately, something dark and insidious rumbles inside of me, irrevocably breaking the summer fun and ice cream connection.

Seems I’ve developed a little ol’ thing called lactose intolerance.




It ain’t right. It’s some cosmic comedy, it has to be. Dairy and I are friends from way back. Ok, I can’t stand fluid milk, but sour cream, all manner of cheese, ice cream and half and half in my coffee are what make walking in this mean old world seem tolerable.

The Good Man marvels still at the vast array of dairy products I have in my fridge. I have a whole drawer devoted to cheese! Well, I used to…

Me? Lactose intolerant? It just isn’t even funny. Not one little bit.

I took my concerns to my doctor who nodded thoughtfully and said, “Well, you know, that happens pretty frequently to people over the age of forty. It’s common as we age.”

Great. That makes me feel ever so much better.

I use Lactaid and it helps some. It is, at best, an imperfect solution.

The only real cure is to stop eating dairy entirely.

Well that ain’t gonna happen.

That said, I have cut waaaaay back. And because the universe has a really excellent sense of humor, I also get rumbly tummy from soy milk, the most common substitute.

So far hemp milk and almond milk are my frontrunners for adding to coffee and having an ice cream-like treat.

They are fine, but just…not the same.

“I scream, you scream, we all scream for almond milk iced dessert” just doesn’t have the same ring.

Because we don’t all scream for that.

*sigh*




Image is, of course, The Scream by Edvard Munch, and is used under Fair Use as the image is considered Public Domain in the United States.

This week’s Theme Thursday is: ice cream



Self Help Advice From a 2 year old

Too funny not to share.

And…..never stop seizing stuff.

_________________

Originally from the JasonGood365 webpage and reprinted in Huffington Post.


SELF HELP ADVICE FROM A 2 YEAR OLD.


1. Challenge yourself every day. Try climbing the stairs carrying two soccer balls while wearing your father’s shoes. Remember, failure IS an option.


2. De-clutter! Start by throwing all your dishes in the garbage. After that I suggest toothbrushes and important paper work.


3. Pee on the floor and stomp in it like a puddle. You’ll be shocked how much better you feel.


4. Whether the glass is half empty or half full is irrelevant if you dump it out on the sofa. You’re welcome.


5. If you’re feeling aggressive, or just bored, scream in a cat’s face.


6. Don’t ever be afraid to hand someone an ice cube while they’re on the toilet. That stuff is cold. You don’t have to be in pain!


7. Socks are poison. Trust me, don’t wear them! Happiness will soon follow!


8. Pound on a computer keyboard like Jerry Lee Lewis playing the piano. Feel better? I thought so. Great Balls of Fire!


9. If you fall down, stay down. Someone will pick you up eventually.


10. Quick thrills fuel the heart. Have you learned to delete things off the DVR yet? DO IT. It’s AwWwWwEsOmE.


11. Seize the day and the night and the middle of the night and the early morning. Seize everything, y’all! Never stop seizing stuff.


12. Tired of looking at yourself in the mirror? So was I until I met my friend permanent marker. FACE TATTOOS ARE RAD.


13. This might be a tough one, but you gotta trust me: Take a crap in the tub. It’s surreal.


14. Live in the moment because there is nothing else. Seriously, there isn’t. Not that I’m aware of at least.


15. If you’re gonna run, do it at top speed, man. Life is too short to walk in the mall.


16. I’ve seen God, and his name is iPad. Let us pray.