Voodooesque

Tagged

Some pesky Portland person (no - not that one, this one) has tagged me for the Real Moms meme. I've been pretty slack on the tags recently, but since P has just gone for a semi-enforced nap, I'll give it a go.

One of the best responses to this that i've seen is over at House of Slack (now with extra added bonus pink stripeyness) and Nonlinear Girls "real moms ask for help" I think is absolutely on the money.

Maybe real mums (can't really carry on with the 'mom' thing, it makes my mouth go a funny shape!) can admit they don't want to spend every waking moment with their kids. maybe they can admit they do. Maybe they can admit that they don't really want to go back to work, despite all their pre delivery claims to the contrary. that they can't be fulfilled without a career and financial independence. Maybe real mums tear their hair out over these questions. Maybe they tear their hearts.

Real mums make unsung compromises that they know may well get thrown back in their faces in a day or two. year or two.

Real mums buy a dozen pairs of identical black work socks for their man to eliminate the impossible post laundry pairing conundrum.

Real mums 'dust' their appliances and woodwork with wet wipes and wonder how they ever lived without them.

Real mums take a notebook out of their handbag at a client meeting and cracker crumbs cascade to the expensive carpet.

And they sing the theme from Handy Manny on escalators.

And they don't exactly remember when they last combed their hair.

And they'll take a tissue to any green nose slime within reach - regardless of whose kid it's attached to.

Real mums stay up late sewing sparkly fish to stitch to a tee shirt for seaside dressing up day at nursery. And then forget to dress the kid in it the next morning.

BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY . . . .
Real mums forgive their other real mum friends for buying their son a 3 feet high inflatable dinosaur. (Really Alys, truly they do)(You can stop plotting your revenge now. It's what a 'real' mum does!)

posted by dodo @ 2:12 pm 4 comments

Shoot me now.

Nope. That won't do it.

Stake me through the heart and chop me into tiny pieces, put me through a mincer and bury what's left at the bottom of the garden. the garden of that creepy old lady that lives on the corner in the big grey house. and smells of dog crap/

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I'm changing my name and leaving the country.

was nice knowing you all.

shitshitshitshitshitshitshit

i'm such a twattwattwattwattwat.

used the remote portal thingy to email some notes with my new work email from home this morning and the damn thing autofilled the wrong surname of one of my new colleagues which resulted in my accidentally emailing a draft FAQ to the FUCKING CHAIRMAN!!!!!!!!

posted by dodo @ 10:27 am 4 comments

will try to wriggle into my coherent pants tomorrow

Very very sleepy. Been 'away.' Loads of stuff to tell about job hunting and job getting and ungrateful bitch not wanting the jobs she is getting because the claws of stay-at-homeness were starting to bite, but so were the claws of big dark D-ness of the stay at home brain. there's been so very much puking and shitting since last we met. not mine, but P's. and the nappies full of water and blood and lord knows what. and the tramping to the doctor and back again. and furniture has been bought and indian pass christmas holidays have almost been booked and furniture has been bought. and make up has been worn. i wore make up today for first time in easily over a year. because i went to a client meeting at my new job today, even though i'm not due to strt until next week. and i'll likely have to go again on thursday. even though I didn't want to start yet. but the deadlines on the first project they've given me are ridiculously tight. and of course i want to make a good impression. but i so feel like, here we go, back on the treadmill again - i was in danger of becoming relaxed, so lets crank up the stress and the travel. (oh yes, and the income)(i'm going to make reasonable money out of this for all kind of family treats so should really just shut the fuck up whining). memes have been missed and questions not answered. and thankyou thankyou to all of you who posted such supportive comments after my last post.

posted by dodo @ 8:36 pm 2 comments

timecheck: 1980? 1960?

me: hi, this is dodo. I used to work at X industry body - you called me a couple of times in the past few years about openings you were handling. I was wondering what you had on your books at the moment . . .

Headhunter Lady: oh! Hi Dodo. Sure I remember you. We were wooing you pretty hard there, but you never wanted to budge. what's changed?

Me: I was made redundant as part of A Company's ongoing [and heavily covered in business press] restructure.

Headhunter lady: Well, their loss sure could be our clients gain. just wait til I tell them you're back on the market. What kind of salary are you aiming for?

Me: Around £X, depending on the opportunity and location

Headhunter Lady: £X?? But you've been earning twice that!

Me: Not for the last 2.5 years. I only want to do about 25 hours a week while my daughter is this young. It works pretty effectively, actually.

Headhunter Lady: . . . . . ..

Me: ?

Headhunter Lady: I'm afraid all our clients demand five day presence and seven day commitment.

Me: But my last two employers were clients of yours, and i worked part time for both of them with great results.

Headhunter Lady: I'm sorry, I don't think we'll have anything for you.

posted by dodo @ 8:57 pm 11 comments

More and more couples in the US are ordering separate master bedrooms in their new homes to help ensure a more harmonious marriage, research suggests.

Now, since the BBC has used this swanky four poster to illustrate the text, one can only assume that it does indeed represent the typical American boudoir, no?

posted by dodo @ 6:17 pm 8 comments

ooooooohhhhhh, eeeeeeeeeekkkkk, criiiiiiiiiiiinge part 2

So, got to the bottom of this from Monday.

My former colleague in the USA, S, Phd, got back to his office to see what he'd sent . . .
(you may want to start at the bottom) (E is the woman who was my boss when I first started. The one who I've sat next to for the last almost 12 months, although it's significant that it's only 11.99 months because otherwise they'da had to pay me to go away) (she is the woman who, when I stopped working for her to report direct to the director on a new project, actually stopped talking to me. for nearly three months. and only started again when a third colleague, who sat opposite us, left, so she literally had noone else to talk to) (and this is a woman who cannot not talk)

-----Original Message-----
From: S, Phd
Sent: Tuesday, March 6, 2007 13:58 PM
To: Dodo
Subject: RE: Numa

OH NO! Did this come in after you left?

-----Original Message-----
From: S, Phd
Sent: Tuesday, February 20, 2007 3:04 PM
To: Dodo
Subject: RE: Numa

I will look forward to your report!

Cannot tolerate control freaks!

OMG, cannot believe you ate your own uncooked chicken!!!!!  That's
right
up there with backing over yourself with your own car!   :)


-----Original Message-----
From: Dodo
Sent: Tuesday, February 20, 2007 9:55 AM
To: S, Phd
Subject: RE: Numa

I really have no idea - I'm meeting the HR lady tomorrow morning. Am
pretty much mentally checked out.

And yes, she's seriously high maintenance. And lives in cloud cuckoo
land most of the time. But there is something likeable about her,
nonetheless. She can be very funny. But she's a super control freak and
has a very different approach to things than I do, which made working
for her quite challenging.

And yes, I poisoned myself. I looked at the chicken. I thought it
didn't
look quite done. So I put it back in the oven. (though not before
'testing' a couple of slices')(it takes an IQ of at least 150 to
accomplish such a thing)

-----Original Message-----
From: S, Phd
Sent: Tuesday, February 20, 2007 2:50 PM
To: Dodo
Subject: RE: Numa

You did NOT tell me that you gave the poison to yourself!!!!!??!!??!?!?

E sounds a bit high maintenance for my liking and I think you should
screw her good!   :)

So, is it safe to assume that you are indeed around for another month
then and Wednesday is NOT your last day?????

-----Original Message-----
From: Dodo
Sent: Tuesday, February 20, 2007 9:46 AM
To: S, Phd
Subject: RE: Numa

Who knows!!

Well, I mean. I'm enjoying my day. I had lunch with a former [well known
international newspaper] colleague over at  [famous london location]. He's
very senior there now so a great source of gossip! I had a salad and some
garlic bread - the first real food I've had for over a week on account
of the salmonella poisoning I gave myself (all rather embarrassing).

Today was supposed to be the day I handed over the research I did for
the non existent magazine to E - for all the good it would do her.
Anyway, she decided to 'work from home' today (which, I'm reliably
informed by sources close to this desk means shopping for a tiara for
her wedding and getting shots for her safari honeymoon). And decided
not to mention it. Or let me know. Or contact me at all today. So I think
the handover may well consist of leaving a pile of papers on her desk.

As to it being my penultimate day. I had a rather revealing
conversation with a nice lady from HR this morning who told me that I'll have a
month of being 'at risk' before commencement of any notice period. This is
rather contrary to what I'd been told around here. I've been invited to
attend an 'at risk' meeting, where the 'consultation process' will be
explained (and. Really. Am all ears on that one. Am just dying to hear
how they couldn't match my skills to any other business needs. What
with me being the only comms specialist within a mile of here that has
direct experience of working with all areas of our remaining core businesses)
and we will 'explore alternative employment options". Which presumably
won't be phrased along the lines of what I've been told already - I'm
not in the plan, I'm too expensive and they don't want anyone part
time.
Yep. I'm a huge pile of ears.

-----Original Message-----
From: S, Phd
Sent: Tuesday, February 20, 2007 2:02 PM
To: Dodo
Subject: RE: Numa

Are you enjoying your 2nd to last day????

-----Original Message-----
From: Dodo
Sent: Monday, February 19, 2007 3:40 PM
To: S, Phd
Subject: RE: Numa

numa?


-----Original Message-----
From: S, Phd
Sent: Mon 19/02/2007 13:00
To: Dodo
Subject: FW: Numa

This will make you smile!

________________________________

From: Mrs S, Phd
Sent: Friday, February 16, 2007 5:08 PM
To: S, Phd
Subject: Numa


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6j475XI1Xg

posted by dodo @ 9:01 am 6 comments

ooooooohhhhhh, eeeeeeeeeekkkkk, criiiiiiiiiiiinge

we interupt this post to bring you [and, apologies in advance] ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod

I just had an email from one of my former (as of last week) co-office dwellers. It seems one of my colleagues, with whom I enjoyed regular emailic banter, has forgotten that I don't work there any more. In one sense this is understandable because we have never met. He's based in one of the company's offices in the north east US. So, it's not like he's been walking past an empty desk these last days. But it may have come as a hint when I told him I was finished there and gave him my hotmail address. Perhaps this would have been an indication? I mean, the guy has a couple of PhD's for crissakes. Unless perhaps he's one of those people who gets off on knowing that my ex ex boss, the control freaky, emotional rollercoaster, crasher of her computer watching too many pussy cat falling off back of chair mpegs, holder of grudges, non speaker to those perceived to have done her wrong even though they sit next to her - perhaps he gets off on knowing that she and she alone now has access to my former Outlook Inbox, perhaps that's why he's sent me a couple of 'posthumous' (post-humorous?) emails in which he entirely trashes her professionalism, character, personal characteristics etc etc etc

Here's hoping I never need a reference from her!

And I never even got to read them.

posted by dodo @ 6:10 pm 6 comments

unspeaking learn'd volumes

There's a lot of panicky stuff in the media around these parts about not being able to get your child into the best local school. There's much coverage of league tables and "value added" scores and SATs, sports awards, arts awards, healthy child awards, church school control, diversity . . . . .

it's a mine field.

P is 3.5 - most of my friends with children began thinking about where their child would go to school from about 18months/2 years. I thought I'd better get with the program.

There are 5 infant/junior schools (age 4 to 11) within about 20 minutes walk of our house. None of them look dreadful on paper - in fact, even though among the parents and childminders around here there seems to be a definite hierarchy of opinion relating to these places - in actual fact the standard of education around here is pretty far ahead of the national average.
P and I went on our second "big girl school for when I'm five" visit this morning. The school concerned has strong church connections, but has an inclusive policy for those like us who are not religious. This is a school which sits high in every table, test and league of school metrics.

P hated it. She clung to my leg and wouldn't speak to me. My daughter is naturally a very chatty, confident and inquisitive person. She had been excited all morning about visiting the school, especially since she'd enjoyed the previous visit we'd made to another local (also church-based, though not featuring so highly in government spreadsheets) school.

This school may well be brandishing it awards and achievements and status HOWEVER the headteacher did not address a single comment to my daughter, in fact barely looked at her, other than, as we were walking through the library, when P picked up a book and started looking through it - the woman took it off her and said "shall I put that away for you?" Needless to say, this was a rhetorical question.

P was really uncomfortable, and no amount of encouraging her to look at what the children were doing or becoming engaged in any way was going to convince her to give the place a second look. Not even the tree lined field or bike populated yard.

As we walked away, I asked her what she thought.

"I don't like that school. when I'm a big girl I want to go to Mrs Bowers school, even if they haven't got trampolines." (mrs bowers being the deputy head teacher of the first school we saw, with whom P was enchanted and wanted to sit down and start working on the spot)

"Do you know what it was you didn't like?"

"The children didn't smile at me, and I didn't like that lady."

"What was it about the lady you didn't like?"

"Her hair."

posted by dodo @ 12:03 pm 5 comments