I just need a moment

I just need to take a moment and vent.

PEOPLE! I cannot get volunteer groups for your site if you never return my emails.

OK, I feel better now.

Thanks.

Volunteer Hoardes: More work than help

Dear Boston colleges and universities,

STOP ORGANIZING YOUR SCHOOL-WIDE, CITY-WIDE VOLUNTEER DAY ALL AT THE SAME TIME!

Do you ever wonder why it's so hard to find placements for your hundreds and thousands of freshmen? It's because you all choose the same week - even the same day in some instances - to carry out this event.

Boston University is even competing with itself: I've received requests from BU FYSOP (Boston University's Freshman Year blah blah blah Program) whose program runs 8/26-8/28 and BU Law School whose volunteer day is 8/26.

MIT's City Days is mercifully Sept. 4th, but their Freshman program lasts a whole week: 8/25-8/28.

I know it seems all convenient and nice to pair up freshmen orientation with volunteering, but I've got news for you: most of the freshmen could care less. They usually come dressed improperly and last year, out of a group of 15 students, only one student actually did yard work while 14 others spent the entire time staring at a snail. I won't name the school, but our property manager won't take them back again, and yard work is pretty much the only thing a group of 15 can do for 4 hours (and even that's a stretch).

So stop calling me, stop emailing me, and stop talking about how you'd love to work with me to develop a project. I don't want to "develop" a project, nor do I have time. If we have a need that coincides with your day, time span, and group size, great. If not, that's just too bad.

Honestly, I pity the poor staff and unknowing student workers who are roped into organizing these events every year. They are not paid nearly enough. That said, why not consider a mid-semester community service holiday? Or better yet, forgo the school-wide days entirely. Let residence halls or departments pick a day, and coordinate them through the community service office to keep everyone from choosing the same day - or week, even.

Do you know when I need volunteers? February and March, and June and July. Just small groups to come in and socialize with the residents (maybe bring ice cream, or a movie, or practice your one-act play in front of an audience). These are the months when nobody thinks of volunteering (it's not the beginning of the school year, it's not Christmas, it's not the end of the school year). Guess what? People are hungry and homeless all year round, elders are lonely and isolated all year round. I am much more willing to sit down and develop a project during the volunteer "off season."

Just think about trying something new, OK? Or at least sneak a peek at the competitions' calendars and pick a different day.

Sincerely,

One very tired, overworked 1/4 time volunteer coordinator*

*The other 75% is divided between fundraising admin, communications, and being Human Rights Officer

Pet Peeve O' The Day

And my pet peeve o' the day for Monday, May 11:

When you repeatedly email coworkers for the answer to a question, and they repeatedly not email you an answer (or call or anything!).

I'm not a mind reader, people! Especially when you're mind is located in an office on the other side of the city.

Drugs Currently in My System

I just swallowed 3 ibuprofin tablets (Wal-Profen, to be specific) and wondered (aloud) "how many drugs can I take at one time?"

This is what's currently in my system:

1. Paxil (10 mg ... almost off it now)
2. Welbutrin (100 mg)
3. Wal-Profen (600 mg)
4. Tylenol Cold Multi-Symptom SEVERE (yes, it has to be in bold italics like that) which contains:
   • acetaminophen (650 mg)
   • dextromethorphan (20 mg)
   • guaifenesin (400 mg)
   • pheylephrine (10 mg)

I don't think I'll be having a glass of wine with dinner tonight ....

In Which I Venture into the Mythical Realm of Credit Reports

I could rant about the disgust I feel for cut-throat corporate greed, and how I feel that certain industries should be run solely as not-for-profit (not as a charity, per say, but as an institution not bent on reaping profits) such as the the insurance and health care industry - and, I feel, much of the finance industry.

It's one thing if your a multi-millionaire looking to buy a yacht. Fine, take out a loan - if you need one; hell, I'd pay cash for that - and let the industry charge you all the interest and fees they want.

However, if you are the average American, you should be able to access your credit report and know your credit score without having to shell out money. I don't understand why - how - businesses can CHARGE YOU for giving you information about you.

But I won't rant about that (um, except for that little bit that slipped out). Instead I'll just mention that I'm a teeny bit ANNOYED (I'm sorry, I seem to have an attack of Lewis Black capital letter rage) at the Mass.gov website. Since Deval redecorated the State House, that website has been less helpful than ever (something was better under the Mitt? Unbelievable). The latest case of hidden information: finding the web address to access my once-a-year free credit report (gee, thanks. That's like handing out a monthly saltine cracker to a starving child in Darfur.).

I honestly had to ask for help from our CFO to track down the information (I'm going to bullet point out this so you can see the chain I had to go through) hidden in:

• the middle of the FAQ section (who looks at those, honestly) of
• the Consumer Credit section of
• the Consumer Protection section of
• the Attorney General's section of
• the Mass.gov website.

And when I used the website's search function to find this information, did it work? Oh no. Of course not. (And let me point out that I usually help other people find information on the internet).

And so that you may benefit from my labor I bequeath you the website address so you can request your free annual credit reports (but not your actual credit score, oh no. That's only available for an extra $10!).

And let me tell you that even after you reach the Shangri-La of webpages, it's still not easy. There are three different agencies you can collect this information from, but I only managed to procure information from one of them.

The first one confused me with all of their "Pay $10 to see the amazing flea circus" links, and so I left the page without ever finding my information (and now that information is closed to me until next March 4th).

The second - Equifax - was fairly straight forward. They had more previous addresses listed for me than I would have ever remembered on my own! I still don't know my credit score, but I think it's pretty good as there was nothing bad on my Equifax report.

The third asked me so many security questions - which I'm not complaining about at all, except that: even I couldn't answer them correctly, and so I was not allowed to view my report.

Thus ends my first expedition into the land of finance and consumer information. I almost didn't get out alive (mostly because I nearly had an aneurysm from rage and frustration) but I hope that my experiences will benefit y'all.

Call and Response to Close the Sermon:
ME: May the Force be with you.
YOU: And also with you
ALL: Amen.

Grrr

I'm having some computer problems - namely, my computer won't turn on (it doesn't seem to be connecting with a power source) - so my posts may be rather more infrequent than usual (for all 3 of you who read this - mom, jon, the rabbi).

Hopefully I can get my computer fixed, as I'm not in the market for a new one! Although, ever since I downloaded the latest version of Internet Explorer (I know - what was I thinking?) my computer has not been a happy camper.

Sigh.

It's the POST Office

When sending standard mail in my office we generally use the postage meter. Ours is a bit finicky, prone to spitting out letters not inserted with just the right combination of firmness and gentleness. Then just to spite you for feeding it wrong the first time, it won't stamp quite right. I've stopped worrying about that - I've never seen the post office refuse to mail one of our letters because the stamped stamp was slightly off, but still, it shows the vindictive nature of the postage meter.

On special occasions, however, like event invitations, we use "real stamps" (unless we're sending bulk, but that's a topic for another time). When using real stamps, I have to visit the post office. Oh joy.

I hate the post office. I try to view it as a zen exercise, remaining calm and patient while waiting in the interminable line, but it's hard. I find it puzzling that an organization which is so generally efficient at getting my letter from point A to point B can't seem to get me stamps without visiting points A thru Z (and not in order).

Now, in my "personal life" (which all too frequently blends with "work life" into a muddled teal and orange puddle) I hate using the boring flag stamps, and that stamp snobbery (they're soooo boring) requires that I stand in line for fun stamps (like snowflakes in winter or Ella Fitzgerald in February - Black History month, you know).

I'm not so picky about work stamps, and in another situation I could have opted to use the automated postal kiosk and forgo actually communing with the postal employees, but this morning I needed to purchase 450 stamps, and there was no way I was buying that many from the automated postal kiosk. (Do you know that the word "kiosk" came to be part of the English language as a result of the Viking invasions of Britain? Yes, it's true. I learned it from Eddie Izzard. British comedy is so educational.)

So, after putting off noon-time trips to the post office for a couple of days, I thought to myself, "Clever girl, you live quite close to a post office. Just hop on over there when it opens at 8:00 AM and then off to work you'll go."

Apparently even at 8:00 AM there are people with strange queries which result in long, hushed conversations with postal employees. I don't know what these people talk about, but it takes forever! I should have camped out overnight to be first in line.

And why is it that they keep no supplies out front? Almost every request from a customer sends the employee out of sight for several minutes. "NO!" I shouted silently watching postal guy drift away (there's always just one. What's the point of a huge customer service counter if you only put one person behind it?!). "No! Don't leave! Come back! No!"

I believe there's a labyrinth back in the bowels of each post office. The postal workers are really our postal knights, battling fierce dragons that guard packages, stamps, and certified mail receipts.

I thought my need for stamps would be simple. Every time you do anything at the post office they ask if you need stamps. They must be drowning in them, right?

"I need 450 39-cent stamps, please," I said to the tiny woman who magically appeared and opened up a second register. (My god, it's a miracle! I thought.)

She nodded. Then she turned and walked away.

WAIT! WHAT?! I watched helplessly from the wrong side of the counter as she headed bravely towards the labyrinth.

How did that happen? I only wanted stamps. It's a post office. She shouldn't have to go far.

Do they laugh? Is there a secret room where they go and watch us on surveillance cameras and laugh? Do they cheer each time a person removes his/herself from the line and leaves? (and heads down the street to the nearest FedEx, I assume.)

I don't understand.

STAMPS! Just plain ordinary flag/liberty/patriotic nonsense stamps.

But then the tiny woman emerged triumphant with coils of stamps in her hand. A veritable treasure-trove, more valuable than gold doubloons. Perhaps she battled pirates, not dragons. Silly me. Why would dragons want stamps?

She counted out 4 coils of 100 stamps. 400 stamps. Good. She opened a drawer and counted out two 20-stamp sheets. 440 stamps - almost there! And then she wandered away again. However this time she stayed in sight, heading over to postal guy. "Do you have any stamps?"

Does he have any stamps?! It's a post office! I should hope so. Why don't you?! The post office just opened - well, it's been nearly half-an-hour - but still, there should be plenty of stamps. Did I unwittingly surpass some kind of stamp quota?

Luckily postal guy did have ten stamps to spare, and I finally got 450 boring liberty stamps to take to work.

Now I've stuck them on invitations, and I'm sending them back to the post office. Hopefully the postcards will fare better than I.

May the force be with you, invitations, as you battle the dark side of the postal system.

Phlegm-tastic

Sometime - somewhere - between yesterday morning and this morning, I was body slammed by germs. I wish I could be more specific, a virus or bacteria but I can't. They're wearing those cliché face masks that bad guys wear when holding up a corner store.

I knew something wasn't quite right when I left work on Monday. I was ridiculously thirsty - encroaching Sahara Desert-like dryness. Sand dunes piling up in my throat.

Then, carrying one bag of groceries home nearly wiped me out. I wasn't sure if I would make it. I was crossing the Sahara with ten bags of groceries and no camel to help me.

Exhausted when I finally reached home, I decided not to go to knitting, although I had been looking forward to showing off the progress on my baby blanket. (I would post a pic, but I'm at home on a dial-up modem ... )

The unquenchable thirst continued, but I didn't feel bad. This morning, though, was another thing all together.

I was - still am - tired, achy, and full of phlegm. Brightly colored, fun-fetti (phugn-phegty) phlegm. Ugh.

Residing in my sinus cavities is a gelatinous, oozing creature. Slogging around with a gross sucking sound, it wallows in its oozing goo.

If I could just shove a crochet hook up my nose, I could pull it out - a pulsating, runny mass.

(Are you grossed out? I hope so.)

I could put in Tupperware and take it to some lab for testing. It could be a new life form.

After it was disposed of, I would inject my cavities and throat with some aloe vera cream in an attempt to satiate the raging thirst.

I also need a new bed - a pillow top with extra down padding. My usually comfortable bed may as well be a slab of concrete as far as my aching body is concerned (hence I'm sitting at the computer - it's the same level of discomfort).

There. I hope I've managed to spread a little self-pitying misery.

Walkers of the World Unite!

Why is it that in a small town in Wisconsin - where virtually no one walks - everyone shovels the sidewalk, but in the city of Boston - where thousands walk - almost no one shovels?

While I appreciate the 5 or 6 people who did shovel the few square feet of sidewalk in front of their buildings, really I do, they are greatly in the minority.

The rest of you lazy assholes (sorry for the profanity) - you million dollar condo owners - what's your problem? Are these four inches of snow (if that) too much for you? Normally I wouldn't complain since it isn't that much snow, but it's just warm enough to make it all wet and slippery - very hard to walk in, even in boots.

I walked on the road some of the time, but often unthinking drivers would speed by, sending up a spray of brown slush. My fresh-from-the-dryer trousers do not thank you.

Some of you are clamoring, I shoveled, I shoveled! Yes, you shoveled the steps to your brownstone, and a little path to the curb where you parked your Mercedes. Great, good for you. A path useful to one person - yourself. Am I supposed to shovel my own path a mile to work (1/2 mile each side of my subway ride)?

Here, Boston, in case you claim ignorance, is a picture of a shovel:

You can buy them almost anywhere and as low as $5.

Not even the sidewalk in front of the elementary school was shoveled. I picked that block to walk down assuming that a public school would have shoveled for their students. No wonder education sucks in this city.

You could pay some kid $10 bucks to shovel your walk. You might even shovel the sidewalk for the elder living next door. It only takes ten minutes to be a good citizen, a kind person, a neighborly soul. Give it a try. You might like it.

Or your wizened heart might give out.

Either way is fine with me.

Color Charts - And Also Whining

Trying to match up the colors of our logo at work is no mean feat. It looks one way on the computer screen, another way when it comes on letterhead from the printer, and completely different when printed on our copier/printer in the office.

Then I discovered the Pantone Matching System Book. It's kind of like those color swatches you use for choosing paint at the store, except its for ink and in a fun little book. The only thing missing are ridiculous names for the colors (like wall paint - "gossamer blue" or "pale tangerine," anyone?)

Now to whine:

I went to the doctor's on Friday to plead for something, anything, that would help get rid of the hacking, lung-purging cough that plagues me each winter. I use the word "plague" purposefully, because those are the looks I receive from my fellow bus and subway riders and also from coworkers. Their thoughts hover in the air like my "germs"

Is she going to cough up a lung? Is she going to need assistance? Is she as highly contagious as I think she is? Why is she sitting next to me? Could we get her removed from the train?

Oh don't deny it. You all think I'm gross. I think I'm gross.

Anyway ... I went to the doctor and we talked it over and decided that an inhaler, some Flonaz to rid me of the post-nasal drip which also plagues my system, and codine cough syrup (wahoo) would solve the problem.

At least I thought that's what we decided. I picked up my prescriptions Monday after work and gleefully took them home. My glee was short lived and I quickly grew glum upon realizing there was inhaler. Just a glass bottle with a dropper and directions for mixing it with saline in something called a nebulizer.

Turns out - as I learned at Walgreen's Pharmacy (one of the few times they've been truly helpful) that a nebulizer is this big ol' machine with a tube and a mask - in other words, not the little pocket-sized inhaler I had in mind.

I'm trying to get this all squared away but it's really discouraging! I'm still coughing because it's still FREEZING outside and I'm tired.

There. I feel better now.

Brink of Illness

Ugh.

I'm teetering on the brink of illness, and right now the germs are pushing me towards the edge. I don't have an almost-sore throat, but I do have something in my lungs. I think it's whatever used to be in my sinuses, but it's still in the moving process because not only have I started coughing (in that charming, I've smoked 4-packs of cigaretts for 50 years kind of way) but I was also whacked with the wicked sinus headache earlier. But because of the coughing which started over the weekend, I got very little sleep last night.

Must. Get. Nyquil.

Ugh. Hold on, I need a lozenge.

Sniff. And a Kleenex.

Ugh.

Despite being mildly under the weather, I have managed to make fabulous updates to my org's website. I'm almost ready to put them online. I also typed up meetings minutes (why are they called minutes?), handed out fleece jackets to the staff that helped with the new house (I got one too ... they're neat-o), and attended a Weight Watchers meeting.

Yes, I'm going to WW. I shall watch myself lose weight. Wahoo. My main reason for losing weight: so I can wear sizes easily found on clearence racks. That's all I want. To be able to shop more easily. And it's healthier, I guess.

I have no comments on the state of the world today. I can't deal with politics when I have a compromised immune system - it's to hard to tolerate global stupidity.

Thankfully I have to leave early today for a haircut. Oh yes, I know where my priorities lie!

Freakish Ears

Damn it.

I go through ear buds like K-Fed goes through alimony payments.

Yeah, I'm that bad.

The trademark white earbuds that came with my ipod shuffle lasted a few months - five or six. They weren't too bad. Fell out every ten minutes or so (the right ear more than the left). But they tangled up constantly and eventually I broke 'em. I splurged at The Pru on a pair of $30 white earbuds with orange accents. They looked great, fit about the same (what's wrong with my right ear?) and broke within two months.

My near-empty wallet and I spent $10 on a cheap-ass pair of black Phillips earbuds that don't fit my ear at all. Worst pair ever. They aren't very comfortable, and they're constantly threatening to pop out of my ear (again - what's with my right ear?!)

I dream of custom-fitted earbuds (like when they take molds of your ears for a hearing aid!). I've become convinced that I have "weird" ears. I don't see other people walking around Boston with the same problem.

Why do I keep going to earbuds? They don't take up a lot of room, that's why. I can shove them in my pocket or purse, no matter how small. I mean, what's the point of my ipod shuffle if I have huge headphones? And I can't where those with my funky hats and earrings.

And then I saw the news Bose ads in the subway. And finally an ad got to me. I even looked them up on the Bose website. Their earbuds are silicone, and each pair comes with three different sizes so you can find your perfect fit. And they've got Bose-quality sound.

They're only $99.

Sigh.

At least my $10 doesn't get all tangled and knotted. I'll give them that.

Where's Waldo?

Well, Waldo is in Wisconsin, but that's not really my question.

Where am I?

At work. On a Saturday morning. Folding letters and stuffing envelopes.

It's not quite so dismal as I thought it would be. I get to listen to CDs and sing loudly and off-key with no one to hear. And, there are volunteers making lunch for the residents, and I have been invited to partake.

Awesome.

Am I bummed? Yeah, cuz I was going to do set construction for the Footlight Theater today. And I'm hoping I get done in time to meet Jon and go to his friend's birthday party this evening.

But who knows? Maybe it'll be just like last night: me, some ice cream, a cat, and a movie. And a warm blanket - that's key. There are worse things.