Lonely at the Top

A while back I posted that I’d gotten a promotion.  I soooo wish that sarcasm had its own font right now.  Because “BIG WHOOP” without any special emphasis just doesn’t do it for me.

It’s been days since I’ve been able to read anyone’s blog people!  DAYS as in multiple periods of 24 hours each!  Long damn days filled with extra responsibilities and headaches.  You know, when they offered me this position many years ago and I turned it down, I WAS RIGHT!

But on the plus side (I should be glad there’s a plus side right?) the day goes by much faster.  I have to focus on the positives or I may resort to violence.

So if you don’t see me commenting it isn’t because I don’t care.  It’s because I can’t find a freaking minute to check in and catch up with y’all.

Now if you’ll excuse me I have one secretary on vacation, another leaving early today and one who is being overwhelmed by 5 attorneys.  Please, please, please Lord – don’t let her quit!

Oh and the Poobahs, with their unlimited intelligence, are not going to fill the vacancy in our department.  Yippee.


Fiasco Finale

I have Doobster‘s comment yesterday to thank for inspiring the beginning of this follow-up post – THANKS DOOBSTER!

When we left our heroine she was struggling not to scream bloody murder…

… the hose came in contact with the foot rail and of course since it was only “crammed in” it of course made a leap of freedom – and began fountaining all over my carpet.

Cue the melodramatic theme music.

I made a grab for the hose, like I could magically keep it from flooding more of my bedroom while Junior hollered out to JD to turn off the water.  Seconds later the deluge ended and we started soaking up what we could with our supply of ShamWow!s.  (Yeah, I know that spelling looks weird but you have to see the website to fully understand that it is probably accurate.  The ! is part of the trademark name so to insert the “s” between the word and the exclamation point, while grammatically correct, degrades their trademark.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!)  Digression aside, ShamWow!s work pretty well at soaking up water once they’re wet themselves.  The first round wasn’t very effective but by the time I’d wrung them out and reapplied we were having more success.

Somewhere in the middle of all that I’d plugged the hole in the waterbed and screwed on the cap so we weren’t in danger of re-flooding from that source.  Now came figuring out a fix.  Jack (you remember him right dear reader?) figured we could just slide the platform toward the foot of the bed.  “We” being the guys of course because as we all know I’d already tried scooting the mattress up without any luck.  No surprise they didn’t fare any better.  Besides the fact that water weighs a ton, the oh-so-clever Jack had forgotten he’d screwed the platform down just moments before.  Bright boy, that Jack.

So where did that leave us?  If you guessed that we had to remove the semi-full mattress and take apart the bed frame then you would be exactly correct!  Sorry, there is no prize.

The men hauled the mattress out and slid it aside into the vanity area off the master bedroom.  Then came the grunting, groaning and screeching screwdriver as Jack unscrewed screws and re-positioned the platform while JD and Junior assisted with the headboard and side rails.  Soon the last screw had been reapplied and they were ready to re-install the mattress.  Success!

Um, not so much.

With the waterbed mattress in place it was immediately clear there was a problem.  The mattress didn’t billow out to fill in the corners of the frame as it should have.  Instead there was a humongous mound in the middle of the bed.

Apparently some waterbeds shouldn’t be moved when they’re full:

In the case of waveless or semi-waveless bladders, a tethering system is recommended beneath the bladder to keep fibers from bunching in one place.

Something tells me our waterbed doesn’t have “a tethering system”.  Sigh.  It was amusing to watch grown men trying to mash the gargantuan lump flat, so there’s that.

Finally, they gave up and we decided the wisest course was to drain the mattress and try to flatten it out once it was empty again.  Of course that raised the issue of no adaptor and how we were going to do that without recreating the Great Flood (sans animal pairs).  JD dismissed Jack and Junior saying we would take it from there, and they sped off before we could call them back.  We then let our fingers do the walking and called everywhere we could think of to find an adaptor so we could use our hose to drain the mattress.  No one had anything that would work.  Oh sure, there were plenty of waterbed drain/fill kits – online!  Dammit Jim!

We were left with one option, haul the stupid mattress out of the frame, through the house and onto the front porch where we could open up the drain and let it rip.  Figuratively speaking.  So JD got busy; I can’t say I was much help.  When it comes to upper body strength I’m a lot like cooked linguine.

Now that the mattress was happily spilling its guts onto the ground via our deck we addressed the reassembly of the bed using our standard box springs and king size latex mattress.  It had been our original plan so we weren’t too disappointed.  That is until we discovered the one question none of us had thought to ask.  Geez.

Turns out no matter how hard you try you cannot fit an Eastern king size bed into the frame for a California king size bed.  Fuck.  FUCK!  FUCK!

Sorry, sorry.  No.  No, I’m not.  There is no other word to describe how I felt at that point.

JD flopped down on our old mattress where it lay in our living room and I found a seat and fought back tears of frustration.  We remained like that a while, then JD went out to the shed to retrieve his own cordless drill so he could start taking apart the bed frame.  At least we could use the platform part and get our mattress up off the floor.  We’ll store the headboard and side rails until we either fix the waterbed mattress or replace it.

And the cherry on the sundae?  Wouldn’t you know the battery on JD’s cordless drill was dead?


The truth can be ugly

It turns out that I’m a liar.  Not just white lies or little fibs either.  This was a blatant, though not face to face lie.  I’m a lousy liar.  My face turns red and I can’t look the person in the eye.  Lying via email is soooo much easier.

JD’s daughter (let’s call her A shall we?) emailed this morning to let the family know her youngest is being dedicated at church next month.  She hoped everyone could join them and maybe have a potluck at their house afterward.  I emailed back by replying all (so JD would see my response and not rat me out by mistake), and said we were going away that weekend because we didn’t get to go camping.

You have to understand something here in order to “get” why I lied outright.  JD is Jewish through and through.  On the surface you would never know it.  He doesn’t attend a synagogue or practice his faith openly that I’ve ever seen.  The only time he plays the Jewish card is when he’s joking about getting something cheaper.  But it is his heritage and it’s in his blood.  It hurts him that his daughter chooses the Christian faith over her birthright.  I think he should just suck it up and be happy she’s a woman of faith.

He sees it as disrespecting him.  Wait, what?  That makes no sense and it’s futile to expect a child you weren’t allowed to raise to follow your path; especially when your path isn’t all that clear.  In my opinion, respect has to be earned and with an attitude like his he isn’t earning any points toward that goal.

Let’s move on before I digress into a tirade about his attitude; none of us want that.  We did attend the dedication for A’s son a few years ago.  They belong to a nice church.  As a formerly regular churchgoer myself, I enjoyed the atmosphere that imbued the service.  I could see myself going to services there, if I were to ever decide I need that in my life again.  The entire time we were there JD was on a slow boil.  He didn’t say anything to the daughter or other family but I definitely heard about it both before and after the service.

Every time we meet up with this daughter and her family there’s always something that sets off JD.  It could be as simple as them saying grace over the meal we’re all having.  Before JD agreed to go to Passover with Mom, he demanded that grace would not be said before the meal or he would get up and leave.  He would have too.  On this point I agree with him.  Passover is Jewish and therefore Jewish traditions should be honored.  Here’s where I think A has a lot more class than JD.  She worked with her son N, who would be the youngest male there to teach him the questions which are traditionally asked.  To my knowledge, she didn’t grumble or whine about not being able to pray as she is accustomed to doing.  In my mind (and after some of my experiences with The Church), A is a good example of what a Christian should be.  I would be proud to call her my daughter.

JD thinks if one of my kids chose to be a Rastafarian, Buddhist or some other faith that I’d understand his disappointment.  I hope I would be more tolerant (and I abhor that word) if they chose to practice a different faith.  Being spiritual doesn’t necessarily mean being religious and I’m the first to admit I’ve been lacking in the faith department lately, which is completely beside the point.

It isn’t only the daughter’s choices that irritate JD.  He personally doesn’t make the effort to celebrate Hanukkah for example, but grouses when we’re invited to “Christmas” at his sister’s.  She still goes to synagogue – once in a while anyway.  But she too married a Non-Jew and her husband’s daughters celebrate the holiday with their father so they have a tree and exchange gifts.  I’ve tried to work around JD’s animosity about the family celebration by making sure the grandchildren get both a Christmas gift and a Hanukkah present.  It has not helped.

He acts as if everyone is out to make his life completely miserable.  And in the process he makes mine miserable.  I used to enjoy the holidays but I often dread them now because of how JD reacts.  It’s pointless and a complete waste of time and energy.

Is it any wonder then that I lied about having plans?  I think not, and I’d do it again.