Ξ November 4th, 2009 | → 14 Comments | ∇ work |
In my last post I mentioned one of the things making me not all WAHOO about writing over here is the fact that Midnight Cliff was mentioned in a lawsuit. Although I probably shouldn’t talk about this here, I can’t imagine that anything is especially private so what the hell.
Basically my incredible company had one not white, female employee who gave both women and blacks a bad name. She would only do her job and never lend a hand with anyone else’s overwhelming workload. Even when doing her job she would cut corners or provide crappy service. When I started here almost 11 years ago she worked with a certain attitude that is so against everything I believe in and it never changed. While I won’t go into everything, let’s just say that I am surprised she kept her job as long as she did.
One thing I will mention is that no matter what normal stuff happens in her life she files a lawsuit (teen aged son got in a fight at school and she sued the school, used car had mechanical issues and she suited the dealer or mechanic or whatever…I never wanted details). The owner of my company owns the building we are in and in the winter we all take turns shoveling, salting, etc. Not this employee. In fact, if I notice it is getting slippy I say to myself, “Oh shit, someone had better salt before Bad Apple falls down and sues us.”
She is just that kind of person, going so far as joking about when we all hit the lottery’s Powerball she is going to sue us for more than her share even though she put in the same $2 we all did. You have no idea how much I hate that type of attitude.
ANYhow, the company terminated her in late September and it was no surprise that she filed a lawsuit. From what little I know she claimed racial bullshit because we kept two women who are white and haven’t worked here as long as she had (guess what…they are hard workers who take on multiple roles at the company!). Also claimed sexual harassment because the company knows about my blog and “encourages” me to post naked images of myself for customers and vendors to look at. (SUCH A LIE! None of my supervisors ever told me to post anything here…sexual or otherwise. I do my best to avoid talking about this site with coworkers and supervisors.)
I mean, I almost threw up when when I realized that because of her suit the big, important folks at my company now know of Midnight Cliff. While I always am all sunshine and rainbows about my job, this site still isn’t something that I wanted to share with executives. I mean, my bare breasts are on here! Aaack. Not cool that because of her they now know about it (because to the best of my knowledge they didn’t before the papers were filed!).
This blog is SO not something that I ever made Bad Apple look at, not something the company endorses. Midnight Cliff is MY little slice of the internet, not a corporate space. I’ve never mentioned my company name, never said a bad word about the place. And wouldn’t, because i love my job. When I write about a trade show I sing the praises of the location, the people, my job, etc. and might post a photo that was taken at the show, but never something that was taken while I was on the clock, never something that involved company logos of any type.
I just am so mad that Bad Apple was grasping at straws and pulling me into her bullshit. It isn’t like I ever asked her to give me HNT photos or anything, why would she trash me and risk my job in her anger at being let go? I mean grrrrrrrrrr!
So you guys asked about the lawsuit. That is pretty much the gist of it. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. Yinz are stuck with me.
I haven’t written anything over here in close to a month. There are a variety of reasons why I haven’t written…too busy running around enjoying the fall, having nothing blog worthy to say, being named in a lawsuit that specifically references this little site of mine, just being lazy, etc.
ANYhow, I don’t even really know where to start these days. Just don’t know what to write about. I could tell you that I am too lazy to get out and rake my yard, but that photo above proves that point. I could recap my adventures in Florida when I stayed with Britt’s family and attended Adam’s party, but so many others gave much better recaps. I could tell you about my trip to Columbus the few days before I left for Florida, but it already seems like forever ago and most of what I find funny would get lost in the writing. I could tell you how Twitter is sucking the blogger from me, but most of you know the feeling.
WAIT! I know what I can tell you. The night I got back from Florida my neighbor told me there was a reporter snooping around my house, wanting to interview me for a story. Something about my Mom’s work with the Clean Water and Clean Air initiatives. Fortunately my (very hot) neighbor told the reporter that I probably wouldn’t be interested and that he shouldn’t be digging up painful memories since I’m still struggling with Mom’s death even three and a half years later. (I love my neighbor!)
I called the reporter, who left several business cards shoved in my door and in my mailbox, only to get voice mail. (insert happy girl wiggle here) A day later the reporter called back and left me a voice mail message saying that his story on air pollutants needed someone who had lost a loved one due to the environment and everyone he talked to told him that he should talk to me. Seems lots of folks that knew Mom and worked with her suggested he contact me.
Only problem is that I don’t feel that breast cancer is a direct result of air pollutants. And I don’t think that Mom’s decision not to take one of the meds (Tamoxifen) that could have kept the cancer from returning (to her brain, bones and lungs) was a result of the air. Or water.
Regardless, even if I did, I ain’t strong enough to be speaking on camera about my Mom’s death.
So there’s that. That is blog worthy, eh?
I usually have vivid and intense dreams. Often I will wake up mad at a friend who has wronged me or done something stupid in one of my dreams. Several times I have had my pillow soaked from my tears when I woke up sobbing due to a powerfully sad dream. In my dreams the colors and smells are so real, events are powerful, even if often the dreams are completely bizarre!
Last night was no different.
From my home I decided to walk to another neighborhood. For some unknown reason I made sure to find a grocery cart to take with me. As I was walking the hilly streets and up into the next neighborhood, leaning forward in an effort to allow the grocery cart to keep me from falling totally forward, huffing and puffing from the uphill struggle, I heard sirens. The perfect, classic Ford Model T pulled over so the other two cars kept going. As the police car slid in behind the Ford I realized there was a problem. I got as close to the wall on my left and kept walking slowly, fascinated by the fact that the driver had jumped out and had started running. The cop hollered something about not letting him get away so I stepped into the street, about to do my best Troyus (Troy Polamalu, strong safety for my Pittsburgh Steelers) impression and tackle the shit outta him when Andre the Giant stepped forward and did a move I have never seen before. Something like standing still with his arms out at his sides, like a a giant cross, then stepping forward towards the runner only to bring both of those massive tree trunk arms quickly in to chop the runner in the neck, lift him up several feet off of the ground before dropping him. I was in awe.
Until the (alleged!) bad guy got up and started looking for those who wanted to help the police. Leaving the grocery cart behind I quickly made my way down the street, taking a left onto an old fashioned street. It was easy to duck into a doorway, along with another one of the guys who had considered helping the police. When we saw the bad guy coming towards us we started kissing, pretending to be two lovers caught up in each other, regardless of our surroundings.
It worked. When the Ford driver was past us I left, walking further down the street until I found a covered bridge / barn. The hay on the floor rolled under my tennis shoes and even though I was slipping and sliding a bit, for some reason I felt stable and knew I wouldn’t fall down. Droves of people started filling the space and I didn’t want to be there any more so I made my way out and further down the street.
The next thing I remember is standing at the bank of three small elevators, waiting for our group to be able to fit on one. (I have no idea why I went from being alone to having a bunch of folks with me.) It was a mad scramble when elevator doors opened and lots of foreigners tried to push on. (Right about here I realized I was out of the country and these folks were not foreign, I was!) After a few missed elevator rides due to rude fuckers, I started flirting with the two massive men to my right. Most folks seemed to be afraid of them because they were bald and black, but they joked back with me and the chemistry between me and the one was unmistakable. We all got on the next elevator, packed in like sardines, but since I was smashed up against the cute big bald guy, I was happy. Until the doors wouldn’t close and some angry French chef was insistent that we get off of the service elevator. Dammit!
Everyone piled off and I was looking at the sign to where we were going. It was in Dutch. From the photos it was easy to see that there were several things that the elevator could take us to, the most exciting to me was the amusement park and the Sea World type place. Oh how I wanted to go ride the roller coasters so I convinced the group that we needed to find stairs and walk, regardless of the distance.
Next thing I remember is being in a Renaissance Fair type setting and the feeling of disappointment with not finding a roller coaster. Someone tried to convince me to get on a Ferris Wheel, yet I had no desire. Until I looked over and realized that it was made of flowers. The beauty was unmistakable and I was drawn to it, even if it was French (yes, I am not a fan of the country). Problem was the thing never stopped, we just sort of jumped on. The whole group was seated, but none of us were buckled in. Right about the time we were considering how to strap the safety belts the Wheel left its base and started rolling. There was no time to be scared because the view was spectacular and only got better when we went over the edge of the Grand Canyon. (Except it was not all rocks like the real Grand Canyon, there were flowers everywhere, a lush and magnificent color filled space.) Spectacular doesn’t begin to describe the richness of colors and the feel of the fresh air rushing by as we were rolling along. I wrapped my arms around the bars and held on tight as the Wheel went upside down. That view blew my mind! Fortunately I had no problem staying in my seat as we rolled down into the canyon. (Right about here it should be noted that Britt was the happiest I have ever seen her on that Ferris Wheel.)
Next thing I remember was walking down a street with a strong desire to photograph the old stone buildings, but being without a camera. Since my phone has a camera I tried to snap a few pictures, but Britt was getting angry that I was holding the group back. The group was waiting at a bus stop when I arrived and it made my heart sing to see my Mom with the group. I asked if text messages from another country were as expensive as calls from another country because I needed to send Dave (you know, Dave2 from Blogography) a photo of pooferflargen.
The bus never came. We didn’t have money anyhow. I set off to explore some more and the group followed. My cousin Sarah dropped her iphone so she couldn’t take pictures anymore, which meant I was the only one stopping often to look through the crapped lens of a phone. There was the most beautiful church which had a shrine outside that caught my attention. I was reading what little I could (damn foreign languages in foreign countries!)…which means all I could make out was the last name of the famous Freudeitche (the famous psychiatrist / philosopher Freud / Nietzsche??!?!). Being in his presence overwhelmed me. I was so happy and content. And consumed with capturing the perfect photo of the shrine. So everyone left. Surprisingly, I didn’t care. Besides, I knew I could catch up.
Eventually I drug myself away from Freudeitche and headed towards where the group had gone. I picked up my pace and still couldn’t find them. Turns out it was cool because Cinderella had come back looking for me. Yay, Cinde! She led me to the apartment. Not just any apartment, the casa of the one and only Dutch Bitch!
Dutchy’s place was adorable and filled with lots of fun treasures. Plus, she fed us the most delicious spaghetti that I have ever had the pleasure of consuming. From all the walking we were famished and Dutchy was mortified that she ran out of spaghetti. One would think the guests would have been upset that they ate the host out of all of her food, but not us. We were full and happy. Even if my Mom was using her left hand to serve the spaghetti to everyone.
I don’t remember much more than that.
Probably a good thing…
I have no musical talent. We are talking *none* as in we are lucky that I can play a radio. Seriously. And I am cool with that.
Anyhow, last Saturday Fab and Turn took me to the UK – Florida game. After a little tailgating in bed and a little tailgating in the parking lot we were walking towards the football stadium when we heard the band. Perhaps it is because I can’t even bang on me drum all day, but I get all excited for marching bands. Just as they arrived in our general vicinity I had pushed made my way to the very front and whipped out my camera. Instead of paying attention to the photos I was clicking off I just danced along to the tunes.
After I returned home from Kentucky I got all the photos downloaded and took a moment to check them out. This one made me laugh out loud:
Since I have never been in a marching band, can anyone tell me why they make the members wear those awful hats with chinstraps that don’t keep the fuckers on?
And also, why don’t folks just use their hands to adjust a strap gone wild? Not like he was banging on his drum all day.
Ξ September 23rd, 2009 | → 6 Comments | ∇ travel |
I’m officially on my much anticipated and needed vacation. (Yay!)
Thursday morning I head to Lexington to stay with Turnbaby and Fabby until Sunday. Friday I am scheduled to head to the Maker’s Mark distillery in order to FINALLY buy bourbon from my barrel. (Squeee!) Saturday Turn scored fantastic tickets to the big football game (UK takes on Florida and we’ll be a few rows back in the end zone).
It will be a whirlwind, but worth it all. Hope I get some time to play catch up on my blog reading…my feed reader is outta hand these days!
The morning after the Penguins won the Stanley Cup I woke up, looked across the hotel room and told Britt that my Steelers were in possession of the Lombardy Trophy, my Penguins were now the Stanley Cup Champions and I was so happy, if she wanted I could fly.
When I finally had the opportunity to fucking HUG Lord Stanley’s Cup it was a miracle that my feet stayed on the ground.
Although my knees did go kinda weak when my favorite former Penguin agreed to pose for a photo with me!
I might have squeeed. A few times. 
The moment I saw Phil Bourque enter the room I did the happy girl wiggle. Of course I approached him and asked if he would pose for a photo with me and The Cup. The man is incredible and quickly obliged. Later when we were talking I mentioned that he was always one of my favorite Penguins (well, him and Trots…Brian Trottier). The Ol Two Niner didn’t believe me. He actually said that I probably tell all the Pens that. I only got mostly pissed, telling him I hate liars so I don’t run around telling all the Penguins that they are my favorite. Then I sort of smiled and said that back in the day, while the entire city had a crush on Lemieux, I had a HUGE crush on him. I might have went on about how attractive he was and still is, might have rambled a bit about the way he skated…blah, blah, blah.
All I know is that the Ol Two Niner is ADORABLE when he blushes. And he doesn’t mind the happy girl wiggle he witnessed several times. Squeeeeeeeee!
(I don’t think many people saw me totally making out with The Cup, though. Whew!)
I am a computer moron. Seriously challenged when it comes to doing much more than powering the fucker on. This lovely little site that I adore so much is maintained by my Bloggy Godfather, Jester. Sometimes it is serviced by the wonderful Hilly (that sounded a little naughty, but I don’t think Hilly would mind). Recently the kind and patient LeSombre has even stepped in to lend a hand when hackers attacked.
So when my blog stopped sending its feed out naturally I freaked. Sure, it took me a damn week to notice the issue, but still, I was all about upset that September 3rd was the last time http://feeds.feedburner.com/MidnightCliff seemed to work. Seems it is now http://www.midnightcliff.com/?feed=rss2 (I think!).
ANYhow, this post is a test to see if the fucking thing works again. Jester did some magic juju and thinks it might have worked. If this showed up in your reader, would you please leave me a quick comment that says so? Thanks!
Fingers crossed…
The blaring alarm clock barely shook me from my deep slumber. Instantly I was happy at the memory of last night’s Steelers victory, even if the late game robbed me of precious sleep. Instinctively I reached for my phone to send a message to Twitter about putting one in the WIN column.
While reaching I realized that today is Friday. Score another rush of happiness.
The phone wasn’t even in my hand when today’s date hit me like a ton of bricks. To say September 11th doesn’t make me happy is one hell of an understatement. It floods me with so many strong emotions that I struggle to breathe, drowning in memories both big and small.
My outstretched arm returns without the phone, instead wrapping the sheet tight around me. If only a few more moments of sleep could erase these emotions…
Ξ September 10th, 2009 | → 5 Comments | ∇ dogs |
Anyone who knows me for more than five minutes knows I have dogs. Dogs that are not small. A hunting dog, Reilly, and a guard dog, Ludo. No surprise that I love dogs. While I am an animal lover who appreciates reptiles and fish (I have two dwarf frogs, both named Bob, and a Beta, Herc), I am first and foremost a dog person. Plus, living with my Monster and Beast means this house is not cat friendly.
So why do you think Petsmart sent me a sample of the new cat appetizer that Fancy Feast is shilling these days? I have that dumb fucking card that tracks every damn purchase I make at Petsmart so they should know I only buy two bags of Blue Buffalo (30 pounds each) and two Bil-Jac liver treats plus various chew toys EVERY FUCKING TIME I GO THERE. Yes, every time. Never once have I bought anything cat related.
I’m a marketing girl and it just pisses me off that they wasted precious marketing dollars on this crap when they have access to data on every purchase I make. And I mean, who the fuck buys appetizers for cats anyhow? Cat food appetizers should be a little cat food given earlier in the day or a piece of cheese from your plate or something. Sheesh.
Wonder if my dogs would eat the silly cat food appetizer. It seems such a waste to pitch it. And someone sure is sitting pretty in anticipation.
(But I still ain’t buying the stuff.) 
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