Tuesday, November 03, 2009

She lives!

Apparently pregnancy completely deletes my creative writing inclinations and abilities. Zoe Jeanne was born October 9, 2009... and is currently sleeping in her bassinet at my side.

Other than work-related reports and a few posts on Ravelry.com, I haven't written a thing since April. This will also be the first year I'm not even starting NaNo, though I am on maternity leave until December. Still, Zoe is not so much for leaving me chunks of time to write, and I'm already sleep-deprived because of the whole night feeding thing.

Anyway, just checking in to note that I am alive and kicking. I think I might try to revive the blog a bit more, if only to get back in the habit of writing regularly. Somehow Facebook updates don't fill quite the same niche. ;-)

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Two months later...

Yeah, I dunno what happened to March and most of (okay, all of) April either.

I'm still here, still ticking along. Signed up for another week-long travel event at the end on June - but it's for a workshop I really wanted to attend, and it is only one trip, not four all squished together. It should be fine, I'm sure.

And if not, at least it will be interesting.

Also, it will be an important test run for the possible Salt Lake City trip in August. Jay has a conference there, and I would really like to accompany him, but not really sure how it's going to feel like traveling at that stage.

Anywho... I have actualy work to do today, so I better get to it.

Friday, February 20, 2009

February Shmebruary, and a note to male students

So I'm still not really back in the habit of regular posting yet. Who knows if I ever will be. I had a five day travel to Florida for a conference experience, quickly followed by rehearsals and then a performance of the Vagina Monologues, then poker night. By the time we got home on Friday the 13th, I was shaking so bad I was just about literally crying for sleep.

And this week I've been pretty lame. Had another late night on Tuesday, hosting an event to talk with students about advising at the college, and since then have just been coasting toward the weekend. Next week the students are all gone for winter break, and I am heading south to NYC to check in with my sisters. Yay!

Of course, then I get back from that and leave for another (more local) two day conference down in Nashua, NH (starts on my birthday, thanks a lot), but Jay will be at another conference in Massachusetts that weekend, so it's not like we would be enjoying the time together in any case. I get home from that on the 7th though, and then on the 10th, I leave for another conference in Saratoga Springs - where I will actually be presenting. Ack.

So, pretty much what I'm saying here is that the scarcity of posting looks like it won't let up for a while yet.

But you're used to it now, I'm sure. Heh heh.

And finally, a note to the college men who come to my office:

Please bathe. Regularly. With soap.

I will be more likely to spend lots of time with you and help out and let you use my computer if you don't smell like someone who has been sleeping in their own stench for weeks at a time.

If you smell like sour funk, don't be surprised when I suggest that you go look up the information about the college you might want to transfer to in your own room, and then come back when you have something more concrete. And after you have bathed.

That is all.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Bawk bawk

Sometimes I forget that seemingly normal people often have deep wells of The Crazy hiding inside. And I've been trying to limit my consumption of The Crazy, so...

I waited until said coworker was occupied and spoke directly to the student organizer.

"Hey, I was just browsing the website last night and, gosh, I think the rules must have changed since X last checked them, because..."

Wimpy, but effective. And didn't have to absorb any Crazy. Yet.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Pants on Fire

Or maybe not...

I think I just caught a coworker in a blatent lie that affects another former coworker.

But maybe she just has poor reading comprehension?

What to do, what to do?

Would feel better if I didn't suspect confrontation will end badly for me.

Don't want her to think I was checking up on her, even though I totally was.

Maybe I will wait a day and mention the "updated" rules to the organizer directly.


Thursday, January 22, 2009

Milovan Loves You

In fact, I think Milovan loved just about everyone except his "wife, that bitch."

I met Milovan when I worked at the large, downtown hotel in Salt Lake City. I was one of the guest services managers, and he was one of the bellmen, and I have to say that I never did quite get a handle on him.

What I know is this.

He grew up in Croatia, got married there, had a daughter. During the conflict in the area, he moved with his family to Germany for a few years until he was able to bring them to the United States. At the time I knew him, his daughter was about 13 years old, and had thankfully not inherited her father's looks. I met her once or twice - slim, blond, blue-eyed, no obvious deformities - pretty, but not shockingly so. Milovan, god bless him, would not have been out of place in a line of gargoyles.

I know he had done construction work in Germany, but he told me he much preferred working at the hotel and for one of the local airport shuttle companies in Salt Lake. Because the hotel we both worked at had a contract with the shuttle, and Milovan worked a double shift most days, I saw quite a bit of him.

He always greeted me (sometimes many time throughout the shift) with "Heeeey, Kate. Milovan loves you." Which, despite being mildly creepy, was also very hard to resist because of his general good nature, and fact that he greeted most of the women who worked there in a similar fashion. I should probably add that not all of them found it as amusing as I did.

He was never inappropriate - and was in fact very generous with time and favors (like driving me home when my car was out of commission), without ever implying that he expected anything in return.

All the same, I have to say that I was never tempted to dig much past the surface. I liked working with Milovan, and enjoyed his unique outlook and interactions, but I had the sense that if I looked more closely, I would find things I didn't want to know. And when I left the hotel in the Spring of 2003, I heard my last ever "Heeey, Kate. Milovan loves you."

Nonetheless, I don't think I'll ever forget it.