*I start my job at the Department of Mental Health on 2nd August.
*I will be in San Francisco at the RID conference from 3rd-9th August. I'm presenting with my former co-worker from Alabama, Brian McKenny. Here's hoping I can actually complete the workshop without falling down or knocking over something important...like the laptop with the powerpoint on it.
*I will have been in my new house for a month on Monday.
Thanks for all the well wishes and thoughts. I have done a lot more of this move solo than I ever have before, and it's been an experience. Now if we can just get the dishwasher and oven working, I can settle back and enjoy.
26 July 2007
Life Lesson
Hunky and his Posse
Originally uploaded by NanLassiter.
When my life gets to be too much, Hunky is always there to remind me that the most important things in life are a soft couch, a squeaky dinosaur, and an oven mitt that has morphed into a giraffe toy. What would I do without his sage counsel? I shudder to think...
13 July 2007
This is why I have dogs. This.Right.Here.
Stool Tool
Originally uploaded by NanLassiter.
Seriously, how could you not pick one of these up at the pet store with THAT kind of a catchy name??
12 July 2007
One step forward, six hundred steps back
House? Check.
Fenced yard? Check.
Animals? Check.
Gorgeous cleaned car thanks to my awesome dad? Check.
Hardwood floors in house? Check.
Job that will provide a salary to pay for my new life in Greenville? Not-So-Check, at least not yet. We're now looking at 1st August or possibly even 16th August due to the RID conference this year.
I'm freelancing my tookus off, my boxes remain unpacked in the rec room, and I don't have the house anywhere near ready to have Leah and Russell visiting on Friday.
I need about 10 more hours in my day, at least.
Oh, and on Monday, I stood up into my cabinets and learned that you really do see stars if you hit your head hard enough. Haven't really been right since then.
I'm trying really hard not get too down on the whole thing. But here I am, 12:20 in the morning and I'm still awake and blogging. All I can do is write off today and hope tomorrow will be better.
Fenced yard? Check.
Animals? Check.
Gorgeous cleaned car thanks to my awesome dad? Check.
Hardwood floors in house? Check.
Job that will provide a salary to pay for my new life in Greenville? Not-So-Check, at least not yet. We're now looking at 1st August or possibly even 16th August due to the RID conference this year.
I'm freelancing my tookus off, my boxes remain unpacked in the rec room, and I don't have the house anywhere near ready to have Leah and Russell visiting on Friday.
I need about 10 more hours in my day, at least.
Oh, and on Monday, I stood up into my cabinets and learned that you really do see stars if you hit your head hard enough. Haven't really been right since then.
I'm trying really hard not get too down on the whole thing. But here I am, 12:20 in the morning and I'm still awake and blogging. All I can do is write off today and hope tomorrow will be better.
10 July 2007
If they ask if you are making pumpkin pie, say yes.
I have a tendency to tell too much information...really it's a tendency to run my mouth too much. Examples include the time my ex and I were shopping for a new car, and I proudly told the car salesman that my Nissan 240sx (moment of silence for the much loved Batmobile...okay, now we can continue) had a BRAND NEW engine in it! I can't seem to draw the line between enough and too much information.
Case in point, I return to my beloved Publix here in Greenville (as I've moved back into the exact neighborhood I left back in September!) and am in the checkout line with four cans of pumpkin. "Ah," says the friendly Publix Checkout Lady, "are you making pumpkin pie?"
The normal person who was in a hurry to get out of the grocery and back home would have said yes and smiled. But not me... "No, it's for my dogs actually."
Insert puzzled look here and massive sigh from the five people in line behind me.
"For your dogs?" she asks, looking as though she's vacillating between laughing and calling the ASPCA.
"Yes, it makes their tummies feel good and they just love it," I reply.
Thankfully she doesn't say another word, just continues with my checkout and hands me my receipt. Not the first time this has happened..."Wow, someone really likes chicken leg quarters! Having a BBQ?" The word yes forms in my mind and on my tongue, but what actually comes out of my mouth is different.
"No, they're for my dogs, I feed them a raw diet."
For awhile before I moved, I was "The Greyhound Lady that buys all the Chicken" at that Publix.
Bless. It's good to be home.
Case in point, I return to my beloved Publix here in Greenville (as I've moved back into the exact neighborhood I left back in September!) and am in the checkout line with four cans of pumpkin. "Ah," says the friendly Publix Checkout Lady, "are you making pumpkin pie?"
The normal person who was in a hurry to get out of the grocery and back home would have said yes and smiled. But not me... "No, it's for my dogs actually."
Insert puzzled look here and massive sigh from the five people in line behind me.
"For your dogs?" she asks, looking as though she's vacillating between laughing and calling the ASPCA.
"Yes, it makes their tummies feel good and they just love it," I reply.
Thankfully she doesn't say another word, just continues with my checkout and hands me my receipt. Not the first time this has happened..."Wow, someone really likes chicken leg quarters! Having a BBQ?" The word yes forms in my mind and on my tongue, but what actually comes out of my mouth is different.
"No, they're for my dogs, I feed them a raw diet."
For awhile before I moved, I was "The Greyhound Lady that buys all the Chicken" at that Publix.
Bless. It's good to be home.
And just so we're all clear...
The new ticker at the bottom of my blog refers solely to how many days are left before Dubya leaves office. It is in no way connected to the conflict in the middle east or anything else of the sort. It is just a countdown until the blessed day known as Inauguration Day, 20 January, 2009. There, now we can move on...
05 July 2007
Solitude
Solitude
Originally uploaded by NanLassiter.
I could do with being back there right now, standing in that place that had been revered, that holy and sacred space...but I have my own solitude now and I love my new house. Still, it's nice to just be still and remember.
15 June 2007
Home again, home again, jiggety jig...
One thing that I have learned in the 35 years I've been moving is that it is never easy, it always sucks, and I will inevitably leave things till the last minute and end up scrambling.
Before I went to England, everything was falling into place and I thought, foolishly, that my perfect place to live would also fall into place just as soon as my foot took its first steps off the plane and back onto American airport-soil. Wrong.
Wrong wrong wrong. I have too many animals. I have animals that, save my cat, are over the weight limit. And do I want to live in an apartment if I could score a house with a fenced yard?
I have lots of people in my corner trying to help. I have lots of websites to go through offering "gated communities" and "tastefully appointed properties." I've sent hundreds of emails and even called a few places on the phone (my family can put their eyeballs back in their heads, I do make cold calls to people I don't know ON OCCASION). Nothing, save rejections for the above mentioned reasons.
So packing has been on the back burner, with the rationale being this: "Why bother wasting energy to pack when there's nowhere to go?" That held water until today when I realized that if I follow my original time table I will be moving one week from today.
Not good.
I'm currently taking a break from packing the office. About half of the kitchen is packed. I have a closet and three dressers full of clothes that will be sorted and some discarded because I just don't need all that stuff. And somehow I am supposed to be ready to head to Greenville EARLY on Wednesday with the dogs and the cat, to leave the cat at my vet to board and hopefully find someone that can watch my dogs (that won't require me to drive to either Charlotte or Charleston...).
Enter panic, stage right.
Before I went to England, everything was falling into place and I thought, foolishly, that my perfect place to live would also fall into place just as soon as my foot took its first steps off the plane and back onto American airport-soil. Wrong.
Wrong wrong wrong. I have too many animals. I have animals that, save my cat, are over the weight limit. And do I want to live in an apartment if I could score a house with a fenced yard?
I have lots of people in my corner trying to help. I have lots of websites to go through offering "gated communities" and "tastefully appointed properties." I've sent hundreds of emails and even called a few places on the phone (my family can put their eyeballs back in their heads, I do make cold calls to people I don't know ON OCCASION). Nothing, save rejections for the above mentioned reasons.
So packing has been on the back burner, with the rationale being this: "Why bother wasting energy to pack when there's nowhere to go?" That held water until today when I realized that if I follow my original time table I will be moving one week from today.
Not good.
I'm currently taking a break from packing the office. About half of the kitchen is packed. I have a closet and three dressers full of clothes that will be sorted and some discarded because I just don't need all that stuff. And somehow I am supposed to be ready to head to Greenville EARLY on Wednesday with the dogs and the cat, to leave the cat at my vet to board and hopefully find someone that can watch my dogs (that won't require me to drive to either Charlotte or Charleston...).
Enter panic, stage right.
11 June 2007
Wish I was still here...
us.
Originally uploaded by NanLassiter.
Taken at Skipton Castle, 4 June 2007...by a camera with a timer that was rapidly losing its battery charge.
08 June 2007
06 June 2007
Go on, gloat...
Everyone who said I should change my travel plans and be in the US today for my divorce hearing...everyone who said I shouldn't just trust that things would go okay and I'd have some closure...well, you were all right. Seems Scott's lawyer didn't make it to court with some paperwork that was needed and so I am still married.
Married, tired, and disappointed...and in dire need of closure.
Married, tired, and disappointed...and in dire need of closure.
04 June 2007
Silly American at Nostell Priory
Silly American at Nostell Priory
Originally uploaded by NanLassiter.
Having a wonderful time, wish you were all here! I'll be back to my regularly scheduled rants and blogging soon, but for now please check out the photos in my Yorkshire 2007 album on flickr!
26 May 2007
I packed my bags last night...pre-flight...
Zero hour, 8pm...Yeah, I'm no Elton John and certainly no Stewie and/or Bill Shatner...
Before I go further, I want to acknowledge that this is my 401st post here in the Lettuce. Who would have thought?
It's 2am and I'm awake. At just after 8pm tonight I will be on a plane headed for Manchester where Simon and his sister will be waiting to pick me up tomorrow morning. I should be asleep, but then I also should have packed my bags, cleaned the house, and had the dogs semi-ready to go stay with Krista several days ago.
Load songs on iPod. Finish packing "non-clothing" checked luggage. Snuggle with Daisy. Dash by grocery in the morning for last minute doggie food. Dash back by grocery on the way to the airport for last minute things I could very well be packing right now.
It's all so surreal...
Before I go further, I want to acknowledge that this is my 401st post here in the Lettuce. Who would have thought?
It's 2am and I'm awake. At just after 8pm tonight I will be on a plane headed for Manchester where Simon and his sister will be waiting to pick me up tomorrow morning. I should be asleep, but then I also should have packed my bags, cleaned the house, and had the dogs semi-ready to go stay with Krista several days ago.
Load songs on iPod. Finish packing "non-clothing" checked luggage. Snuggle with Daisy. Dash by grocery in the morning for last minute doggie food. Dash back by grocery on the way to the airport for last minute things I could very well be packing right now.
It's all so surreal...
25 May 2007
For Susan, So She Knows I Have a Backbone...
Irritating Self Important Co-Worker starts talking to one of my deaf co-workers without waiting for me to be turned around to interpret. The following sassy ensued...
Me: I'm sorry, I missed that.
Irritating Self Important Co-Worker: I was talking to HER.
Me: I know that, and I can't interpret what you said to her if I didn't HEAR it. What did you say?
Irritating Self Important Co-Worker: (rolls eyes) Right.
She then repeated herself. GAH! Y'all, it's not a complicated thing. Person A is deaf, Person B is not. Does Person B REALLY think that Person A is just going to magically be able to HEAR because Person B has something to say?
OY.
Tick tock, tick tock, y'all. 2 hours more and my vicarious trauma ends...at least here in Alabama, right? I'm still an interpreter after all...
Me: I'm sorry, I missed that.
Irritating Self Important Co-Worker: I was talking to HER.
Me: I know that, and I can't interpret what you said to her if I didn't HEAR it. What did you say?
Irritating Self Important Co-Worker: (rolls eyes) Right.
She then repeated herself. GAH! Y'all, it's not a complicated thing. Person A is deaf, Person B is not. Does Person B REALLY think that Person A is just going to magically be able to HEAR because Person B has something to say?
OY.
Tick tock, tick tock, y'all. 2 hours more and my vicarious trauma ends...at least here in Alabama, right? I'm still an interpreter after all...
23 May 2007
Steam Revisited
Remember this post? Where I blew off some steam? Well, time for another release. Might wanna stand back.
Don't stare me down in the hallway. What you might have heard in my voice was not my message. Those weren't my words. I have no use for the daggers that you hurl at the back of my head with your eyes when you think I'm not looking, the head waggling and giggling with your co-workers when I walk down your hall, nor do I have use for the curt tone when I interpret for you.
And yeah, I said for you, because as I stated before I'm not even sure that you have a firm grasp on the English language, so I'm positive you can't sign.
Don't tell me that you didn't lose your temper when I clearly heard you yell. I'm one of three people on this ward that can hear, so trying to split me on that issue doesn't work so well. However, if you keep up that volume much longer you may have your way.
Screaming in my ear does not make me understand you better. If it doesn't work for the deaf staff I'm pretty sure it won't work for me.
Looking smug when you are able to "translate" a document written in Deaf English doesn't make you look anything but stupid when you still "translate" it wrong.
And for the gazillionth time, snapping your fingers at me to get my attention is not going to be any more effective for me than it would be for a dog, which must be what you think of me. I have a name, ya know? It's on the huge nametag on my chest.
And further, to the Finger Snapper, if you see that I'm involved in doing something with a patient it is NOT the right time to demand that I help you find a staff person. Ever heard of "patients come first?"
Ugh. And yet, the thought that in two days I'll walk out of here for the last time and not see some of my co-workers again fills my eyes with tears if I dwell too long...
Don't stare me down in the hallway. What you might have heard in my voice was not my message. Those weren't my words. I have no use for the daggers that you hurl at the back of my head with your eyes when you think I'm not looking, the head waggling and giggling with your co-workers when I walk down your hall, nor do I have use for the curt tone when I interpret for you.
And yeah, I said for you, because as I stated before I'm not even sure that you have a firm grasp on the English language, so I'm positive you can't sign.
Don't tell me that you didn't lose your temper when I clearly heard you yell. I'm one of three people on this ward that can hear, so trying to split me on that issue doesn't work so well. However, if you keep up that volume much longer you may have your way.
Screaming in my ear does not make me understand you better. If it doesn't work for the deaf staff I'm pretty sure it won't work for me.
Looking smug when you are able to "translate" a document written in Deaf English doesn't make you look anything but stupid when you still "translate" it wrong.
And for the gazillionth time, snapping your fingers at me to get my attention is not going to be any more effective for me than it would be for a dog, which must be what you think of me. I have a name, ya know? It's on the huge nametag on my chest.
And further, to the Finger Snapper, if you see that I'm involved in doing something with a patient it is NOT the right time to demand that I help you find a staff person. Ever heard of "patients come first?"
Ugh. And yet, the thought that in two days I'll walk out of here for the last time and not see some of my co-workers again fills my eyes with tears if I dwell too long...
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