reason no. 53 to keep my job

Summer hours: Last Friday I got off work at 1 p.m. without having to work extra during the week. And I'll get five more Fridays like that this summer.

group error

So I joined this group on Flickr called New York tourist's collections. It's a fine place for all my recent New York pictures.

Why I almost didn't join: The apostrophe in the group's name is out of place. Tourist's is singular possessive. Collections is plural, requiring tourists plural. More appropriate names would be: New York tourist photo collections or New York tourists' photos.

I'm contemplating mentioning this gaffe to the group administrator. Or am I just being an editing freak?

talking with my ex-boss

And during this party, I had a near-pleasant conversation with my ex-boss. In the beginning, it was obvious she had little to say to me. But later, with a few drinks in her and Replacement (whom I’d already befriended) nearby, I asked her about the magazine launch (her current obsession) and commented on how much her daughter had grown. This provided the three of us with ample, light conversation. Replacement would have had a hard time guessing a problem ever existed between her new boss and me.

I hope that with continued pleasant conversation, perhaps this burned bridge may slowly be mended to the point I could use it (though be it a tightrope) if I ever needed it.

a family reunion

The goodbye party knocked me a bit off kilter. I walked into the bar and was surrounded by my ex-co-workers. Yes, I still see some of them from time to time. But at this party were also those that I don’t see—the long-timers who mentored me as well as co-workers who’d quit or were let go.

It was like a big family reunion that makes a person feel happy and sad at the same time. I got the feeling of home, while knowing that home isn’t really there anymore.

my replacement

So, I met my replacement on Friday. From former co-workers, I’d heard that she was nice, tended to be quiet, and seemed like another version of the editor and managing editor. (That last fact has the associate editor worried. She and I are not the quiet type. I didn’t end up fitting in with my editor. She fears a similar fate. I, though, believe my case was a unique one and she needn’t worry.)

So how did I meet Replacement? Well two of my ex-co-workers quit their jobs last week (GO TEAM!), and we all met up at a bar after work on Friday to say goodbye/celebrate/muorn.

I made a point of sitting down with Replacement and getting to know her. She is indeed sweet and soft spoken. And she is, as I was, in love with the office. Replacement was surprised I had left. I smiled my reply, dancing around the office politics of the true reason I’d made a change. She needn’t know all of the mess.

I explained my departure like this: This place was like my home. I was raised in this office. I began here as an intern. And after four years of nurturing, I found it was time to leave my co-workers—my parents and siblings—and spread my wings.

So, I like her, I approve. Replacement will fit in well on the staff. She told me I couldn’t have my old job back; she liked it too much. I didn’t have the heart to tell Replacement that I, of course, didn’t want the job back. I felt a little ache, remembering that love of work that I once held.

asleep or awake?

I was asleep but my alarm began going off at 6:50 a.m.
I was awake but hit the snooze once, twice, three times.
I was asleep but I would be late if I didn't get out of bed before the fourth alarm.
I was awake but I lay down on the couch while I watched the weather forecast.

Forecast: rain, and not cheerful spring rain, but dreary stormy rain.

I wanted to wear my pjs to work. I wanted to not go to work.
I comforted myself with the fact that today was my first Friday with summer hours and I finish work by 1 p.m.
I still wanted to go back to bed.

Sitting at my desk, my mind drifts, as obvious by this post.
Sitting at my desk, my eyelids feel full of lead pulling them down, down.
Sitting at my desk, I confuse my manuscripts, wait, what was I working on?
Sitting at my desk, I think of going home, going to my bed, going to sleep.

If I get to leave work at 1 p.m., do I still get a lunch break? And if I leave for lunch at noon, would I have to come back at 1 p.m. just to leave again?

photo enjoyment

contemplation
Originally uploaded by phitar.

One of my favorite photographers on Flickr is phitar. Check out his set of photos of his beautiful daughter, Isoline.

for lizalou42

Bored, I clicked on the "NEXT BLOG" link in the upper righ-hand corner of this page. Lizalou42, this is what I found. I thought you'd enjoy it. Beware: The music starts automatically.

sorry no stories

Everyone’s asking me how my vacation was. How was Branson? How was New York? What did you do? And I find I have little desire for detail.

My attempts to describe seem empty. So here's the shell of my vacation:

We stayed at the Welk Resort, you know, Lawrence Welk?

We saw the sunset from the shore of Table Rock Lake.

We rode the ducks. They have tours of Branson on DUKW amphibious vehicles that take you on land and then the water of Table Rock Lake.

We went to Celebration City, it’s like a mini Worlds of Fun. There was an overly patriotic show at the end that combined fire, fireworks, images projected on a wall of water.

I got a call from my roomie that made me sad and want to return home.

Silver Dollar City hasn’t changed except for maybe a few more rides.
As we were leaving the park, I saw a lesbian couple. My first thought: Huh? What are they doing here? And I wondered if they felt out of place, marked as different, unwanted in this, the heart of moral Christian thinking. I thought they had a lot of courage, but if it were I, I’d find a different place to spend my vacation.

We went through two caves.

We drove home past trees, farms, cows, and horses.

We went to New York City.

We stayed at the Chelsea International Hostel on 20th St. between 7th Ave. and 8th Ave. It was small, sparse, clean for a hostel, in the heart of lower Manhattan, and cheap for New York.

Nancy’s cousin took us to the new Chinatown growing out in Queens for dinner.

Nancy and BK took a 2 a.m. bus to spend the day in Washington, D.C.

The G-man and I went the Met, walked through Central Park, took and double-decker open-topped bus tour of lower Manhattan, and saw Avenue Q. We both loved the show. I knew I would, but I was glad I hadn’t wasted the G-man’s money.

We tried to see the Statue of Liberty, but couldn’t. The Ellis Island museum was good, informative, and long. We got very hungry. We ate at a Japanese noodle restaurant near Broadway. We all went to see La Cage aux Folles, a revival of the musical that the movie The Birdcage was based off of. The chorus line (men in drag, of course) was fabulous. We sat in the sixth row off to the left.

Gilbert said he was beginning to develop an expensive habit. That makes me happy. Now maybe I’ll have someone to go see a show or two with me when they come through Kansas City.

We ate sushi. We walked through Greenwich Village at night when it’s at its liveliest.

We toured the U.N. We waited in the most horribly long line at the Empire State Building. We ate Indian food at a microscopic little restaurant in Greenwich.

We ate dim sum in Chiantown in a huge ballroom-sized restaurant. The host and hostesses had walkie-talkies to communicate across the loud, busy restaurant.

The G-man and I left for the airport. I left Nancy, and for that I truly have no words.

sigh

I miss Nancy.