by Heather Plett | Jan 21, 2005 | Uncategorized
Today’s the day for “the talk that will expose me”. It’s time to have the annual “budget talk” with madame finance guru. Yes, I suspect this will be the talk that will expose me as a pathetic fraud, totally and utterly incompetent and incapable of managing an annual budget of nearly $250,000. Why do they TRUST me with so much money? Don’t they KNOW I’m incompetent – especially with money?
Come to think of it, by now – after 7 months in this position – they should have figured out not only my financial incompetence, but the fact that I’m really not as smart as they THINK I am. You can fool SOME of the people SOME of the time, but you can’t fool ALL of the people ALL of the time. When are they going to see the crack in my facade? Or can I keep pulling off enough projects that have shades of brilliance that they will continue to be hoodwinked?
In the meantime, until they figure it out, I’ll carry on along my merry way and keep letting them pay me to have fun and do cool stuff!
by Heather Plett | Jan 21, 2005 | Uncategorized
Dubya’s three day inauguration event is apparently costing a mere 41 million dollars (and that’s not including the cost of security). Huh? I’m not getting something here. FORTY ONE MILLION DOLLARS just to say “Hey – here’s your job for the next 4 years. Hope you don’t blow it.” Yikes!
Of course, most of the money is coming from all his wealthy supporters. Money is power, baby, money is power. For $250,000 you get tickets for all the events, including an “exclusive” lunch with him and Cheney (how exclusive can it be? an intimate lunch with a coupla hundred people?), and tickets to the inaugural ball. For the low, low price of $100,000, you get tickets to most of the events and an elegant candle light dinner with a “special appearance with President Bush”. I guess for THAT price, you can’t expect the president to actually DINE with you! If you just want to go to one of the ball’s (there are NINE after all), and can’t afford all that other stuff, you can get a ticket for a mere $795. All that money, just so you can get close to “The Man”. According to some fundraiser who was asked about the high price, “It’s the cost of playing the game.” Pretty darn expensive game!
Hey, I’m all for a good party, but isn’t this a little ridiculous? And you WONDER why people think you’re a stuck up, arrogant, capitalistic, “my shit don’t stink” nation? (Sorry, I really TRY not to be anti-American, but it slips out now and then.)
by Heather Plett | Jan 19, 2005 | Uncategorized
Yup, it’s official. I’m old. I just got fitted for custom orthotics for my feet. All that’s left is a blue-grey rinse in my hair, kleenex stuffed in my bra (’cause you just never know when you’re gonna need it!), and endless complaints about my arthritis.
Turns out I have a ridiculously high arches. The orthotics specialist (orthotician? dunno) took one look at my arches and said “those babies are HIGH! No wonder your feet hurt!” And then she shook her head sadly as I stepped on the ruler. “I don’t envy YOU when it comes to buying shoes.” There’s almost a whole size difference between my two feet. I liked her – she didn’t have that judgemental tone that some people take on when they examine various parts of your anatomy and find them lacking. (Like some of the nurses who looked at my breasts when it came time for me to start breastfeeding – “Tsk, tsk, you have flat nipples. That baby’s NEVER gonna latch on to THOSE!” As if it were MY fault my nipples were flat! Thankfully, Nikki was brilliant and figured it out right away and the nurses had to eat humble pie!)
Back to my feet… I had to get molds made of my feet. She puts on this cast-like material and you have to lie there until it dries. Fortunately, I LIKE my feet and don’t feel very self-conscious when a stranger is staring at them and manipulating them (unlike the aforementioned portion of my anatomy). And she managed not to tickle me, despite my extreme ticklishness.
Seriously, though, in spite of my cracks about getting old, I am DELIGHTED about getting orthotics! Why didn’t I figure this out years ago and save myself alot of agony and aching feet?
On the way back from my foot appointment, I stopped at the Goodwill store. I thought I’d look for skirts for my African adventure, but ended up finding a couple of sweaters, a blazer, and a shirt instead – all for a mere $13! So it’s true, I AM getting old. Not only do I have to wear orthopedic footwear, I get excited about cheap second-hand clothes. “Eh? Speak up chile’, I can’t hear you! What’s that nonsense yer blubberin’?” Gotta turn up my hearing aid!
by Heather Plett | Jan 18, 2005 | Uncategorized
Yikes! Three weeks from today, I’ll board a plane for Toronto, with the eventual destination (2 days later) of Nairobi, Kenya, AFRICA! I can hardly believe it’s really happening! Somebody pinch me!
And yet, as excited as I am, I can’t help but let some of that good ol’ fashioned Mommy guilt creep in. I’m leaving my children for THREE WEEKS! What kind of Mommy does that? And not only that, but I’m leaving their daddy with three weeks of arguments, poopy panties, homework frustrations, laundry obstacles, bed time squabbles, “but I don’t LIKE this food” complaints, etc., etc. I’m gonna owe him BIG TIME when I get back!
by Heather Plett | Jan 18, 2005 | Uncategorized
I’m at the computer because I’m playing the avoidance game. No, I’m not avoiding anyONE, but rather anyTHING that smacks of work, or more specifically the disaster zone formerly known as the laundry room. I have to dig through a few mountains of stuff to get at the clean laundry I KNOW is under there somewhere to find enough clean clothes that my family will be presentably dressed tomorrow. Blech. I keep hoping that laundry genie will find my house, but so far, nothing. She gets as close as the front door, spots the stray socks and Maddie’s dirty panties littering my entranceway, and woosh – she’s outta here!
It’s worse than usual right now, and thus the avoidance game. Mike has come to tear apart our house and eventually build us a new bathroom. That’s all GOOD, but in the meantime it meant that he had to trim a wall in the basement which resulted in the laundry room being turned upside down. Now, if I’d been one of those smart, organized Moms I would have anticipated his coming, would have cleared all the clean laundry from the table next to the wall I KNEW he was going to cut down, and would have made sure all of it was conveniently put away in the respective dresser drawers. But NO, not me! That would be WAY too easy for me. I prefer to do things the hard way, to challenge myself each and every day with new laundry obstacles. So just now I checked each of the dressers and found that Julie has almost a full outfit, except for a pair of socks, Maddie needs the whole she-bang, and Nikki can get by with what she has in her dresser. Sadly, before I go to bed, I’ve gotta brave Mount Everest of laundry and find something for poor Maddie to wear – or I can abandon her father in the morning with nothing but a pair of pants that haven’t fit her for a year, a t-shirt that shows more of her belly than Shania Twain usually reveals, and a pair of socks with more holes than a golf course! Let’s see, how long can I make this avoidance thing work?
I saw Debbie on the bus today – the person I used to work with 15 years ago, whom I ALWAYS run into. No, we have nothing in common, and we never INTENTIONALLY get together, but she’s one of those people who keeps popping up again and again, no matter where I go. She’s forever at the same bus stop – even when we live in different parts of the city. We worked in the same building for awhile, even though it was completely different companies. Wierd. There are some people I know in this city whom I NEVER run into, but then there are the “Debbies” who pop up everywhere.
Debbie was doing a crossword. Not that I have anything against crosswords – lots of people I like and admire do crosswords all the time – but seeing her working on it reminded me of how small Debbie’s world seems to be. She’s the person who told me that she’d reached the age of 30 without EVER seeing a COW! Now, I can understand that might be the case if you grew up in a coastal or mountain region, but on the CANADIAN PRAIRIES???? In all her life, she’d only been out of the city a few times and had never come across a cow in any of those brief forays into “the world outside her small city”. Yikes! I’m sure there are gaps in my own experience – things that would shock people if only they knew (fortunately, I’m good at keeping secrets), but I just can’t imagine having a life so small that I’d never seen one of the most common beasts this land has to offer. If she’d never seen an ELEPHANT it would be forgiveable, but a COW?
I hope, really hope, that Debbie is deliriously happy. Maybe she is. Maybe the world scares her and her only happiness is doing crosswords inside the confines of this small city. I know not everyone has to have a world as big as mine, but I have a hard time believing that a life that hardly moves outside the perimeter has as much happiness as life has to offer. But then again, it takes all kinds of people.
I bet Debbie never has to plunge into the heart of Mount Everest to find clean laundry! See, she’s got SOMETHING up on me!
by Heather Plett | Jan 17, 2005 | Uncategorized
God, I’ve realized lately that I really don’t know how to talk to you. I know that sounds funny for someone who’s been well raised in a solid Christian home, spent a few years in Bible College, said prayers almost every day of my life (at least those parts of my life when I believed in you or cared whether or not you existed), and has, on occasion, taught other people about God.
I don’t know how to talk to the version of you I believe in now. I don’t suppose you’ve changed in that time, but my understanding of you has changed and that leaves me with a bit of a gap when it comes to communication. It doesn’t seem like a new relationship should be fettered with old constricts. What was that you said about new wine in old wineskins? I never really understood that passage, but it sort of fits for this. Perhaps this relationship is like new wine, or perhaps it has finally seasoned to a sweet maturity. Either way, it doesn’t fit the old wineskin – the cracks are showing.
I need something deeper than what I had. I need something better than the formality of a courtship. I want to be able to give you the messy stuff and trust that you’ll stick around and believe I’m worth it. I don’t want to fear your judgement all the time. I want to be able to swear occasionally and not think I’ve sent you home disappointed.
I sure wish I could tell when you’re listening. That’s the part that often bugs me. Don’t get me wrong – once in awhile it’s really clear that you’re in the room with me. But more often than not, I attempt to pray the way I think I’m supposed to, and all I get from you is silence. I don’t like that kind of relationship. I don’t show up for someone who sits there stone-faced and quiet. It’s not worth it. I’ve got great relationships with people who are present when I talk to them – who respond and make me feel valued and happy. Why don’t I get that from you more often? It sucks. Really sucks.
I know, I know – it goes both ways. I suppose I don’t spend enough time listening to you either. I don’t wait for your reply. I get through my prayers quickly so I can move on to something else. I only take short moments to read the Bible, because I have so many other things to do. It’s easier to fill my time with other stuff, ‘cause maybe I’m afraid to hear what you’ll say.
Deep down, I have trouble believing that you have my best interests at heart. I keep thinking if I really listen to you, you’ll ask for too much from me. You might want me to change some of the things I really like in my life. You might ask me to sacrifice more than I want to sacrifice. So I just give you little snippets of time, because then you can’t take too much control.
But I’m trying really hard to believe in this new version of you – a God who likes me, likes hanging out with me, wants me to be happy, and thinks my passions and interests are worthwhile and not just a waste of time. So here I am, trying to get to know you better and trying to figure out a new way to talk to you. Bear with me if I don’t get it right all the time. And forgive me if I tell you to piss off now and then. I’m only human after all.
