Archive for the writing Category

Post #160 – About The Expiration Date and the End of the Beehive Hairdo

Posted in Family, family battles, family drama, grandmothers, humor, life, memoir, Motherhood, narrative memoir, nonfiction, people, relationships, true stories, uncategoried, work, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 29, 2016 by tenaciousbitch

Knowing that each of us has an expiration date does not make it any easier when we’re told that the end is near for a family member or a friend – even if that person is 99 years old. I got that phone call earlier today from a hospice nurse about my Grandmother. She hasn’t been able to eat more than a bite or 2 of food at a time, and she’s been sleeping pretty much since Thanksgiving.

And the nurse said she was too weak to speak to me even if she brought Nana the phone. That’s when I broke down because anyone who knows Nana – knows that the only thing in this universe that would stop her from talking would be if the Grim Reaper himself was hovering about her bed.And the nurse kept using the word “declining”, which I tend to think of as a hospice buzz word synonymous with dying. I remember hearing that term a few days before my mother passed away.

I was absolutely miserable when Nana lived with us for two very long years, i.e. check out Post #1 about what she said to me when my mother was terminally ill @ https://wordpress.com/stats/insights/tenaciousbitch.com https://wordpress.com/stats/insights/tenaciousbitch.com

And/or this post about Nana’s back-handed racisim @ https://wordpress.com/stats/insights/tenaciousbitch.com.  However, I found myself sobbing on the way to the grocery store where I went to fax some paperwork to hospice in order to secure her care for however long she has left.

Ten minutes, I was told for the confirmation that the fax went through to Vitas Hospice’s office. Ten. Long. Minutes trying not to start crying again in front of total strangers. And then, a miracle happened. I decided I’d treat myself to my favorite dessert, vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup. On my way to the beloved freezer holding my creamy comfort in a 1/2 gallon box, I realized that God knew how sad I would be at this moment, and a miracle occurred that caused me to break into a wide smile despite my melancholy mood…

ALL OF MY FAVORITE ICE CREAM TREATS WERE ON SALE…:) november-29-2016-019   And the Skinny Cow was buy one get one FREE! I don’t think that’s every happened that I can recall. 

So, despite the fact that I started bawling again in my car on the way home, I realized life really is about the little things. The ice cream miracle. The fact that my husband does the dishes without me asking him to do so as well as watching the hilarious antics of my cats, one of whom has learned to lock herself in the bathroom when she wants some downtime from the other 2 cats (funny story for another day).

And last but not least, the incredible euphoria I experience every single time I go to the beach (any beach, Florida, California, New Jersey, doesn’t matter), and I sit staring at the vast expanse of water roaring to and fro in front of me. There’s nothing in this world that I enjoy more (as far as leisure activities, that is) than lying on the beach on a hot and sunny day…except maybe lying on the beach with a good book.

And I wondered if any of those wonderful moments that Nana has experienced over her nearly 100 years were ruminating through her mind as she drifts away from this world. I hope so. And I decided that I was going to remember Nana as the crazy redheaded woman who spoiled me rotten every time we came to visit…who so loved the hairstyle shown in the photo below…which I never really understood but Nana never really understood my love of science fiction and zombie movies either…:)nana-demonstrating-shoes That said, even though she and I are very different in a lot of ways, she taught me a very valuable life lesson – just by the way she lived her life. And I’m sure she doesn’t even realize what I’ve gleaned from her in this respect.

In that, the most important ingredient to happiness is to be true to yourself. And it’s okay if you’re not like other women, or other people in general. Nana was the FIRST woman in her family and among her friends who worked after she got married.

A year or so after my mother was born, Nana took a job at the company store. My mother grew up in the coal fields of West Virginia. And Nana got to know the manager of the company store at church, and he mentioned that he needed a part-time clerk. My grandmother eagerly took the job, not because she needed the money, but because she WANTED to work. And she eventually became the manager of the store.

She wasn’t happy sitting around the house all day cleaning and changing diapers. And this was in 1936! Such just wasn’t done, but Nana did it! She didn’t care what other people thought about it either. My grandfather was shocked and confused, but he knew Nana well enough to know that it didn’t do any good to argue with her or to try to dissuade her from whatever she wanted. She was going to do it anyway. And she worked until she was 78 years old. She retired 3 times before she finally decided it was time to give work a rest.

I hope that I’m able to see Nana again before she’s ushered from this world.  When taking care of Nana got to be too much, and she needed full-time care, she didn’t want to be in a nursing home here in Ohio where I live because she hates the weather here. She requested to move back down South where she’d lived for more than 50 years.

So, we put her in a nursing home about 5 miles from the house where she had lived from 1976 until she moved in with me and my husband in 2011. And they’ve taken very good care of her though they refer to her as “the Diva”, which is more than appropriate because I’ve never encountered anyone more spoiled than she is, God Bless Her…:) And there are quite a few posts herein that will more than quantify that nickname.

And so with that, I will say adieu so that I can make travel plans to see the crazy redhead one more time before her lights go out in Georgia for the last time.

Over and out from CASA DE CRAZY…

~TenaciousBitch and her band of truth-spouting hippies

Post #159 -His Name is Jar-Jar the Terrible

Posted in blogging, BOOKS, comedy, Family, humor, life, marriage, nonfiction, politics, relationships, true stories, uncategoried, writing, zombies with tags , , , , , , , , on November 10, 2016 by tenaciousbitch

Had trouble sleeping last night. Nothing new to read, and I couldn’t turn on the TV for fear that my horrible recurring nightmare had come true. Jar-Jar Binks, aka Jar-Jar the Terrible, just bought himself the Presidency. You know Jar-Jar, the Narcissist with the bad Comb-Over? Holy shit. It wasn’t a dream? There isn’t enough Merlot to stomach the headlines in the morning. Sigh. Perhaps, some strychnine or Drano with a side of cyanide will suffice instead. Glug. Glug.

All joking aside, my only solace in terms of coping with the deplorable and mind-boggling election of Jar-Jar the Terrible is that Hillary Rodham Clinton finally shattered a glass ceiling that is not only 240 years thick, but heretofore thought to be impenetrable by ANY woman, triumphing despite all odds to become the first woman nominated by the democratic party to run for President of the United States. Such is not only an historic event but an event unseen in a high percentage of the industrialized world as is common knowledge that there are very few heads of state who are female on this rock we call earth.

 

And despite Senator Clinton’s devastating loss, she’s a commendable example of what women can achieve because now, we finally have NO door that is closed to us despite whatever she may or may not have done with her Godforsaken emails and despite whatever political shenanigans she may or may not have committed as alleged by Jar-Jar’s smear campaign and by various coverage of the media.

The thing is, regardless of whether you like her or not, she’s got a helluva more experience than Donald Trump because we all know who really ran the White House back in the day when Bill was traipsing about the Hallowed Halls of our nation’s capital chasing after interns. And while many might have seen Hillary’s current plan for the country as more of the same, I saw it as a familiar journey with goals that are in alignment with what the people need and what the people want. Jobs. Prosperity. Equal Rights. More research and development to reduce our carbon footprint. A makeover of the disaster known as Obamacare. The end of legal bigotry and immigration reform, not the building of a wall to keep out “those People”.

I daresay our founding forefathers are grumbling and shouting from their graves in protest and frustration knowing a man has just been elected to the highest office in the land, and by his own words would like nothing more than to shatter the constitution and to “make this country great again” by refusing the matriculation of the poor, the hungry, the disenfranchised, the flat-chested (perhaps? :)) and to bar those whose religion or ethnicity offends Jar-Jar’s narrow-minded sensibilities, thereby decimating the principles this country was built upon.

However, I can’t help but hope that should that ludicrous boundary be built, that someone pushes Trump over his wall into a pit of Mexican Zombie Rapists.

Okay, maybe not. Sorry, I had to intervene with a little levity in order to survive the mere idea that the Donald, Jar-Jar the Terrible, is really going to be running this country in 10 short weeks. I’m ashamed and embarrassed to call myself an American with him at the helm, and I’m terrified that in 2021, I won’t recognize the country to which I was born.

Then, there’s Hillary Rodham Clinton, like Rosa Parks, who also suffered at the hands of ignorance and injustice, both of whom paved the way for more changes to come. While Mrs. Clinton, of course, hasn’t been wrongly imprisoned, I believe she was wrongly convicted in the court of public opinion, which I’m sure hurt her elect-ability immensely. So, maybe, Senator Clinton hasn’t done anything as significant as Rosa Parks’ defiance on that historic bus ride during the infancy of the Civil Rights Movement, but Senator Clinton had the potential to do so, in my opinion, and crossing over into the No-Man’s Land of Running for President, I believe she took her first step.

That said, I will tell my grandchildren that though Hillary Clinton lost, she won a huge victory for just being in the race. And, unfortunately, all too often adults are just like children, they have to learn the hard way what’s best for themselves and for their country and that I have faith that after 4 years of Mr. Trump, the country will be begging Hillary to run again, and I pray she will do so!! If not, she’s created a wide berth for another woman to walk in her shoes in 2021.

However, whatever happens, I cannot believe Trump will be elected twice. If so, I’ll be boarding a plane for Ecuador or some other distant and sunnier shore because I can’t bear the thought of Trump calling himself President again.

And regardless of what happens in the future, I feel proud and honored that I took part in an historical event when I voted for the first female candidate for President in the history of our great nation. And I honestly believe that Jar-Jar the Terrible will only be a sad footnote in the historical record of the U.S. like that of John Wilkes-Booth, known pretty known only as the man who killed a great leader who changed the lives of millions with one signature on the Emancipation Proclamation. In the same but slightly different vein, though Jar-Jar might’ve killed Hillary’s dream to be our Commander and Chief in 2017, I can’t believe that this electoral defeat has dashed her aspirations permanently. She’s too stubborn and too ambitious for that.

Therefore, I don’t believe this electoral debacle will be the last mention of First Lady, Secretary of State, and Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton and for that I am also hopeful and eternally grateful for what Hillary has done thus far and feel indebted to her in doing what no woman has ever done before. Beat several men at what has traditionally been a man’s game. Now get back on the horse Hillary and figure out how to crush Jar-Jar the next time around! 🙂

 

Post #158 -The Oddest, Coolest Mother’s Day Gift Ever

Posted in art, blogging, comedy, Family, Freelancing, humor, life, marriage, memoir, people, relationships, true crime, true stories, Uncategorized, work, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 6, 2016 by tenaciousbitch

Those of you who know me IRL (in real life), you’re aware that I’m weird. And that such is an adjective I wear proudly. So, it won’t surprise you to know that my husband gave me a very strange gift for Mother’s Day, one that I absolutely love. However, I can’t think of one woman on earth besides me who would’ve shrieked with joy as I did when I opened it.

Obviously, it wasn’t flowers or jewelry or an expensive pair of shoes or a gift card from my favorite retailer and the like. Though, honestly, I would’ve been perfectly happy with any of the above.

So? What is it, you ask? A 6-foot alligator? No. I prefer my gifts aren’t of the man/woman – eating kind.

Was it some sort of unconventional kitchen gadget like a knife sharpener?

No…it was…

Wait for it…..

Wait for it…

Here’s a photo of the box.

BOX - STUN GUN

Does that give you any ideas? 🙂 For all the ladies and gents out there who might’ve been to a gun store, the box might be a dead give away.

Otherwise, for  the many folks who’ve never been to a retail outlet that sells weaponry…you may not even know what it is by viewing the item itself below….

BOX AND STUN GUN

Yes, it is, in fact a STUN GUN!!! 🙂 And don’t you LOVE the fact that it’s pink? 🙂

Though I live in a very low-crime area, I wanted a stun gun because I’ve been selling my artwork (i.e. fine art photography, decoupaged coasters, hand painted vases, etc.) at various flea markets and art shows since last summer. When I had a booth over the winter at a flea market in a somewhat shabby area, I saw a man arguing with a woman in the parking lot, and he struck her so hard in the face, she almost fell down. I called the police who FINALLY showed up about 20 minutes later. And what kills me about that is – that flea market is a mile from Easton Mall/a very EXPENSIVE area to live/work, etc.

Obviously, violent crime can happen anywhere, so you never know when I might actually have an occasion to use this handy gadget in my own home.

Additionally, the outdoor flea market I’ve been going to since March is frequented by more men than women. And sometimes as I’m packing up my artwork and boxes of household items I’ve also been trying to sell (inherited from my mother/other relatives), there might only be a couple other vendors left. There are no security guards or anything, and occasionally, I meet a vendor who just evokes that vibe that he’s probably seen his share of time “inside” a local prison.

Once in awhile a male vendor or a customer will hit on me, and I’m always polite when replying that I’m happily married and not interested in cheating on my spouse. But you never know when one of those guys might take offense and turn an innocent situation into something ugly.

That said, I LOVE MY STUN GUN. And it’s all charged and ready to go, so be warned all lecherous, less-than-honorable men who might consider getting aggressive with me cuz this chick is PACKIN’, and I won’t hesitate to STUN the hair right off your  balz! 🙂

Peace out –

~Tenacious Bitch and her band of truth spouting hippies

P.S. If you’d like to do a girl a solid (and want to help me garner some more cash to GO SEE NANA – and btw, Nana is now 99 years old), feel free to check out my online store with most of my artwork and such at:

https://www.etsy.com/shop/TenaciousImages

 

Post #146 – Perhaps, I shall execute it in blood…

Posted in nonfiction, relationships, true stories, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , on February 19, 2015 by tenaciousbitch

LUCKY ME, a recruiter named Lisa with Ohio Consulting, Inc., spied my resume on Monster.com and called me about a job at the corporate office of a well-known bank in their mortgage department. Doing what exactly, I don’t know. The job description is very vague, but I assumed I could find out more in an interview.

For the sake of simplicity, this financial institution will be called Mega Bank. After a brief Q & A with Lisa, my resume was shuffled through cyberspace to Mega’s HR department.

Three days later, Mega Bank offered me the job simply based on my resume! WTF? Ya know, I get I’m totally awesome, LOL, but I wouldn’t hire me without at least a 10-minute chat on the phone. I could be a complete moron who paid a lot of money for a really sharp resume. However, since I REALLY didn’t like the temp job I was on at the time (don’t even get me started on that), I accepted the position.

Then, of course, comes the real fun. I spent 2.5 HOURS completing the online application for Ohio Consulting listing every single employer for the last 10 years along with their address, phone number and email. AGAIN – WTF?

When I reached the bitter, bleary-eyed end of their cyber forms, I had a little panic attack because I didn’t have the email addresses or phone number for 2 of my previous supervisors from a decade ago because I’d lost touch with them. I emailed Lisa explaining I had to put incorrect information – because I couldn’t complete this pre-employment malarkey without putting SOMETHING in the field for phone number and email address.

Lisa got very confused and emailed me that neither of the supervisors I mentioned were ones I’d given for references. Though I explained via email and voicemail that I was talking about managers from a decade ago, I never got to discuss this issue with her. And I’ve been concerned for 2 weeks that I’ll be accused of providing FALSE info. No red flags yet, but I still don’t have a start date for this new job, so who knows.

Then, the next day, I received an email from Lisa with a .pdf attached of YET ANOTHER APPLICATION!!! No, I’m not making this shit up. Apparently, all the online documentation was ONLY for the background check. For the actual application for Ohio Consulting, I had to PRINT OUT a paper app in 6 POINT FONT  with tiny little boxes about 1/8″ tall where I had to HAND WRITE my entire job history AGAIN and answer 22 questions in regard to my favorite work environment (large or small company)/preferred hours, etc.  And, no, t’was not the kind of .pdf you can type upon. The recruiter requested that I write legibly and to scan/email it upon completion.

This is unbelievable! I should write the damned thing in crayon!! YES – NEON BLUE fucking CRAYON! Or better yet…I’ll bet I could get enough blood out of my thumb to write it in my rare vintage of human vino, and it’s such a lovely shade of RED!!!

I could use a toothpick, dip it in a little puddle of blood, and use the toothpick like a QUILL. Is that not brilliant? And that’d be a lot easier than using a pen, given the space restrictions.

Why the hell can’t they just email that list of questions and allow their applicants to email the answers back? That’s how I gave them my references. They could print out/scan the answers if they want this info to be on their database or whatever, which they’ll have to do with the paper app – instead of trying to explain why I left each job in a box that was barely 1 1/2 inches long.

And though this job pays considerably more than the job at the Publishing Company, which didn’t work out (long story), I have to wonder why they need SO MUCH INFO? Do they really think that being so thorough in their selection process is going to stop me from quitting, or weed out the undesirable employees? I think not.

And I’ll bet astronauts don’t fill out as much paperwork when they apply to NASA!!! Or maybe they do, but they’re going into space, people, SPACE!

I’m going to be a paper pusher, living in a cubicle. When I worked for Household Finance in ’99 as an account executive, we did everything. Outbound sales, taking loan apps for mortgage and personal loans, processing all the paperwork required prior to loan approval, and we churned out all the closing docs as well. The application for that job was ONE PAGE, accompanied by a personality quiz that took about 20 minutes. And that was it.

Household was a revolving door of employees and probably still would be if they added a couple reams of paperwork.  One girl went to lunch during our 2nd week and never returned. And not to worry, she didn’t meet with foul play. I saw her wedding announcement in the newspaper 3 months later. I guess Household Finance’s get ’em to sign on the dotted line or die tryin’ attitude was just too much for her. Couldn’t blame her there. I hated that job, and, t’was not unhappy when I got laid off 6 months later.

ANYWHO, at this point, you’re probably thinking that’s the end of this pre-employment nonsense. Um…NOT. So. Much.

When I went to OH Consulting’s office downtown to complete my tax forms, I couldn’t find their office, and NO ONE answered the phone. And I let it ring 20 times! When I finally found it, the receptionist said they’d been having issues with the phone system, and he had no record of my appointment. AWESOME. Ten minutes later, he talked to someone in their Chicago office, and I was given the I-9 and the W4.

In order to work at Mega, you have to get fingerprinted/have a BCI check done because of all the confidential info you’re privy too. So, I left my temp job and drove as fast as my silver bullet could manage in 4:30 traffic to Mega’s branch near OSU where I’ll be working, and the security guard who runs the scanner had just left 2 minutes prior.  Sigh. The next day, I snuck out of my temp job early and made it to Mega by 4:44 this time, and lo, and behold…I was told…

“Sorry contractors have to go to our Gateswood location.”

Are you FUCKING kidding me? GROAN and insert angry EXPLETIVES here! 🙂 Especially since the both the northside location and the one at Gateswood mall are 20, yes TWENTY, miles from my house. Compensation for gas anyone? Um. No.

I quit my temp job so I could finish all this pre-employment crap, and I drove to Mega’s Gateswood location the next day. The security guard, Ms. Weatherby, had trouble getting my prints to scan. I don’t know why, but I always have this problem. When I applied for a teaching job at Hilliard Schools, their scanner couldn’t read my prints either. And I had to drive all the way out to London, Ohio – 30 miles away. And the fingerprint scanner at the tanning salon I frequent acts like I’m invisible. But anywho…

“You may have to go to the northside,” said Ms. Weatherby with a sigh.

“I was told that all contractors have to get fingerprinted here.”

So, she called a supervisor for assistance who could see the scanner remotely. She kept scanning and kept clicking OVERRIDE, and 10 minutes later, my prints were in the system.

“It’ll take 24 to 48 hours to get the results,” Ms. Weatheryby said, i.e. verifying I don’t have a criminal record.

THANK GOD cuz I’m running out of cash, and I still haven’t gotten my first unemployment check from getting laid off from Jeans, Inc. (another long, tedious story).

Four days without a word. I called Lisa who said they were still waiting on the BCI check.

On day six, I emailed Lisa that if I didn’t hear something soon, I’d have to seek employment elsewhere. Five minutes later, she called me.

“There are questions about your background check.”

“What do you mean?” I asked in a panic. For chrissakes, the only time I’ve ever gotten arrested was when I was 17…yeah, funny story…feel free to check it out at…

https://tenaciousbitch.com/2011/08/29/blog-30-%E2%80%93-an-ode-to-barboursville-and-the-days-of-yore/

She gave me the phone number for Andrew somebody at Mega in New York.

“We got a reprint request on the 13th and the 18th. The scans weren’t good enough to run your prints,” Andrew explained.

Then, why the fuck couldn’t they have told someone at OH Consulting before now?

Holy fuckballs. It was snowing like a bitch, and it was 4 degrees. But I hauled my ass back out to Gateswood yesterday, and a younger blonde named Emily took my fingerprints this time. Again, my prints were persona non grata. I explained my problem and requested that she not override the scans. After 20 minutes, we were still struggling to get my prints to “pass”. I called Andrew again, and I said,”We’ve got the images for my fingerprints up to 90% and some as high as 96%. Is that good enough?”

“What’s the problem?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe, because I have really small fingers, and my pinkie fingers are crooked, which makes it difficult to get them to lay flat.”

“I see. Well, you can’t get blood from a turnip,” Andrew replied in a jovial tone. “That should be fine at 90%.”

So, here I am WAITING again. Hopefully, in a couple of days I’ll have a start date for the job I was offered 15 days ago!

To top it off, get this, Ms. Weatherby, who sent the crappy prints off to be processed, was Emily’s SUPERVISOR.

And after all this pre-employment FOREPLAY, these faceless corporate units aren’t even going to buy me lunch, much less dinner!

Last night, I decided if this job doesn’t work out, maybe, I’ll just go work at McDonald’s or UDF (United Dairy Farmers, a convenient store/gas station chain). I hear they’re hiring, or maybe, I’ll just walk down to the exit ramp from I-270 and panhandle like this one guy who was “hungry” and needed “help” – according to his homemade sign. Although one night, I saw him walk over to the parking lot beside Denny’s and climb into a very nice Nissan Rogue that looked brand new. So, that’s always a career path to fall back on as well…

~Ciao!-

TenaciousBitch and her band of truth-spouting HIPPIES

TB/ks

Post # 145 – Good news…bad news…and you can’t be f’ing serious?

Posted in fashion, humor, memoir, nonfiction, relationships, true stories, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , on January 14, 2015 by tenaciousbitch

So, I’d forgotten how exhausting job hunting can be! And I cannot believe the fuck-ton of cyber paperwork that is required for a job paying $10 fucking dollars/hour. Yes, folks, I said $10 – a scant dollar and some change more than minimum wage.

It’s hard to get used to coming down from the $25/hour (sometimes $30) I get for freelance work anyway, so $10 is a bitter figure to accept, much less the insane volume of forms and the like.

And why would moi/proud owner of a college degree and 20+ years’ experience in the cesspool known as the workplace accept a job for such a paltry pittance? Well, boys and girls, I can answer that in 4 words –

Wait for it…

Wait for it…

It’s a PUBLISHING COMPANY!  While I’d be working in the call center doing customer service, it is my foot in the door at my MECCA, after all. I’ve wanted a job at a publishing company since grade school. And though I’ve done freelance work for 2 different publishers, ’tis not the same as being in-house, and everyone has to start somewhere.

First of all, this job is through Pinnacle Temps. Fine. No problem. I am a dyed in the wool veteran of the temp to perm contract gig… however, the first OMG – you’re shitting me moment was when the recruiter named Brenda informed me I had to make a fucking 35-second video to introduce myself to perspective employers! Ya know…hi, my name is, and I have a background in BLA, BLA, BLA, and you should hire me cuz I’m broke, and….

Seriously, put down the crack pipe, people! What the hell is this, SPEED DATING? If I’d known I was going to be videoed, I would’ve rethought my wardrobe choices. I was wearing a very bright cobalt blue cowl-necked sweater and matching blazer with black pants cuz I don’t care if it’s Queen Elizabeth, this chick ain’t wearing a dress on a 4 degree day (okay, maybe for HER, I would – but anywho).

And though my fashion entourage was fine for the temp agency, and though a fellow applicant complimented my Anne Klein bag that matched the shoes, sweater and jacket perfectly, t’was a horrible ensemble for video creation.

I probably looked like a talking head atop a gigantic undiscovered neon blue, 5′ 8″ PLANETOID-ish blob! Or the clients may not get past how enormous my boobs looked since the camera was no less than .05 inches from my person, and Brenda assured me t’was only my face and shoulders, but it seemed to be aimed at the middle of my ta-ta’s. . Despite the recruiter’s overt reassurances that the video was “fine”. It was great. I beg to differ!!

And if that weren’t bad enough, when taking my drug test, I not only peed all over my hand, but I soaked the damned cup, which dripped all over the beautiful ceramic tile in the bathroom (en route to the shelf behind the toilet).

The time I spent trying to clean up the spatters of urine on the floor and trying to wipe off the cup, probably seemed suspicious. I wouldn’t be surprised if Brenda thought I’d spilled some fake urine I’d smuggled in (or I was trying to heat it up with my lighter – since manufactured piss will not be a balmy 100 degrees or whatever) cuz only crack heads take that long to “go” in a plastic thingy!

Then, I was mortified when I realized the cup was still quasi saturated when I deposited my specimen on the shelf where I assumed she would retrieve my sparkling hot pee! SHIT AND DOUBLE SHIT (or pee as the case may be).

However, before I even washed my hands, she knocked on the door saying I could throw away my ala carte au natural TINKLE because, apparently, the container not only had a temperature sensitive strip embedded in it, but it does all the work of 3 lab techs instantly with a readout on the pee-covered paper on the outside of the tiny beaker indicating I was not gobbling down buckets full of heroin, etc.

HOW JOLLY AWESOME…tell me something I don’t know.

But as to the phenomenal volume of documentation required to work at this publishing company, I have to take an assessment that will take 45 minutes, which luckily, I can do at home.

I had to answer 32 inquiries about my customer service skills and/or job preferences (i.e. best work environment)…additionally, I also have to spend 30 minutes registering online for the temp agency itself answering the same damned questions I’d already supplied via the actual paper app at Pinnacle’s office, i.e.repeating my address, telephone numbers, etc., and God Knows What Else!

And that doesn’t even include the 11 pages of application material I had to complete, sign, date, scan and email back to another consulting firm for another job that is 20, yes, TWENTY miles from my house/ a 30-40 minute commute but does sound like an interesting job, the one mentioned in my last post/starting on 1/19/15.

Holy fuck balls. Maybe, I’ll just work at MCDONALD’s. Surely, their interviewing process is not so laborious…and if it is – no wonder those fast food gurus flipping our burgers are often so surly and/or screw up our orders! If they had to go through the rigorous documentation regime I had to deal with today on their salary of $8/hour, I’d be surly too.

All of which makes me tired just thinking about it. So TA for now, boys and girls!

~TB and her band of truth-spouting hippies

Post #144 – You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet! There is no crying uncle here…

Posted in beer, college, Family, family drama, friends, humor, memoir, nonfiction, relationships, true stories, true stories, Uncategorized, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on January 12, 2015 by tenaciousbitch

This year, my sister, Fiona, received the Merry Christmas, “your job has been eliminated” speech as her box of wonder from her employer in mid-December after 17 years of faithful service. Awesome, is it not? The joy of living in America. Absolutely, give us your tired, your hungry, your poor and/or a dedicated workforce, so we can shred their livelihood after they’ve devoted their blood, sweat and blood to helping a f’ing corporation grow ITS business and/or make it a better place.

And, then, another family member, Mitchell, also got the congrats, it’s a shiny new pink slip for Christmas along with 78 other devastated individuals! And such was allegedly due to a downturn in profits. However, the black and white of it indicates according to the Wall Street Journal –  profits were up 32.9% at XYZ, Inc., where Mitch had been working.

And this kick to the curb occurred not 6 weeks after Mitch received a mega promotion, and one of his now disenfranchised co-workers had also gotten a leg up the corporate ladder as well not 2-3 months ago that included a nice increase in salary. Thanks for that, f’ing bastards!

Ya gotta wonder what their mindset is when upper management or whomever decide to chuck their employees when profits are up. Did they suddenly realize that a 38% profit margin isn’t enough to bid on that third world country they’d been lusting over on Ebay? For fuck’s sake, they can’t have that. What would the neighbors say?

But after Enron and the shenanigans of Bernie Madoff, and the like, we shouldn’t be surprised by corporate deception and greed, right? However, that doesn’t mean we have to LIKE it and doesn’t revoke our right to BITCH about it!

But I digress, as Fiona revealed the details of her occupational severance on Christmas Eve, she started crying/then sobbing (understandably so) and apologizing for ruining my Christmas!

Holy Fuck Balls, no one says the holidays have to be all candy canes and mystery Santas bearing Porsches! And if nobody cries on Christmas, it just ain’t a success, doncha know?

Otherwise, Hollyweird wouldn’t churn out so many dramas about turkeys that never get cooked because bizarre typhoons appear from nowhere on dry land on Thanksgiving, or Kim-Kim showing up in the not-to-die-for dress made of bamboo and Guatemalan mud that Jane wanted to wear but couldn’t fit her fat ass into… sigh.

I tried to convey to Fiona that she has every right to blubber her damned eyes out because I know how devastating it is to get downsized because such happened to me twice in 2005, and the first layoff was from a teaching position that I loved at a junior college where I’d been for almost 5 years.

And the immense frustration of watching someone you love having their life decimated for reasons that make no sense – certainly explains why so many folks begin spraying bullets in the general vicinity of those who had wronged them. However, Fiona is not that kind of person AT ALL.

Regardless, losing your job after 17 years of dedicated service and lots of overtime, and occasionally getting to work at 5:00 in the damned morning?! That fucking blows-PERIOD!

And the thing is, little did I know at the time that I was also about to be sans employment. Yep, I too lost my job as a fraud specialist at Jeans, Inc. a couple weeks after Fiona’s employment cessation. And get this, I found out from an announcement on the company webpage. And such was the first time I’d been canned that my manager had not been the one to convey the news, so that was odd.

With me, however, it’s not as earth-shattering to be cast adrift in the ugly waters of unemployment as it was for Fiona because I had only been at Jeans, Inc., for around 6 months, so I wasn’t as invested in the job, really. Plus, business was down so much that on my last day, they sent me home before I even got logged into my computer. And there were times when we had 8 or 9 orders to work with probably 75 people working. So, unless the phone was ringing, there was nothing to do. But when such isn’t the case, ya gotta wonder…

Plus, fortunately, my wonderful hubby makes enough coin that we shall not be worrying about keeping the lights on, but our cashflow will be a might pinched. Additionally, I tucked away some cash that will help fill the void should the scraps of government alms not suffice (i.e. unemployment compensation) until I find something else.

That said, Fiona, Mitchell and I are intelligent, capable, talented individuals, and we will OVERCOME.

That said, why am I so confident about Fiona and I rising from the ashes of cubicle hell? Well, let’s review our track record. Between the two of us, we have –

1) Obtained college degrees, which were financed largely with our OWN cash – though student loans, et. al. did help enormously.

2) Said FU to Cancer and won.

3) Tangled with the biggest bully who ever lived and.. WON big time (i.e. check out  https://tenaciousbitch.com/2011/07/20/blog-24-evicting-the-squatter-part-i/ – about evicting my drug addict brother from my Grandmother’s house )

4)  Survived 4 or 8 or 9 divorces (we lost count – okay, so maybe I’m really just talking about me, but you get the NOTION).

5) Survived being cheated on (by those who may or may not have been spouses).

6) Moved to New York City alone with no job in hand, less than $300 in the bank and a 2-year-old in tow and only one human to call a friend in that wild-assed, incredible and somewhat overwhelming metropolis.

7) Defied the laws of fashion because we just don’t give us shit.

8) Married a rock star or two and/or frequently went home with a guy in the band if frequently means once or twice ..:).

9) Held the title of DIRECTOR or VP…

10) Made more than $75K/year – which isn’t astronomical on a world scale, but ’tis nothing to sneeze at, and in West Virginia where we hail from, that sum makes us royalty/rare birds in the earnings department – especially because we’re women!

11) And ONE OF US met with and pitched a screenplay to members of Warner Brothers/CBS/Disney/Bad Robot Prod Co (who produced the TV show Lost and the Transformers franchise) and countless other execs from Tinseltown. And such was done without a trace of nervousness, which was no EASY TASK!

12) And we did not hesitate walk on cracks, skip school, chew gum in church, rip tags from mattresses, occasionally talk back to parents/teachers/cops and in my case threw up on (yeah – check out

https://tenaciousbitch.com/2011/10/04/blog-35-the-birthday-assaultaka-the-date-from-hell-part-2/

…not to mention we don’t hesitate to ask Santa for the big SHINY TOYS.

And we occasionally imbibed alcohol during school hours, got arrested and lived to tell about it, jay-walked at WILL, sweet-talked the guy from the electric company into not shutting off our electric with a Coke and a smile and, maybe, the fact that we happened to be wearing a bikini at the time didn’t hurt…:) cuz that was back in college), and one of us wore a gaudy fedora to Thanksgiving dinner despite the request not to do so.

In other words, we’re kind of FEARLESS…

However, if we’d known we were going to accomplish so much, Fiona and I might’ve chosen different togs for the photo below…
steph and i - pine tree 73 8

And if that photo doesn’t convince you that, nobody is putting BABY and her sis in a corner…I don’t know what will.

So, go ahead universe, BRING IT the fuck on…cuz we’re on the mound waiting to bat – no matter how big or bad the bullshit you might chuck our way! And this blip of joblessness is no exception in the scheme of our lives.

And I shall sign off by saying, well, guess I buried the lead. I just got confirmation that I have a new a job starting 1/19/15 – provided I pass the background check (hmmm…keep you posted on that).

So, stay tuned, boys and girls cuz in the infamous words of Bachman, Turner, Overdrive –  You ain’t seen nothin’ yet…:)

Love and chocolate chip cookies,

Tenacious B and her band of truth-spouting hippies

~TB/ks

Post #143 -Alive and well despite my suffocation…

Posted in friends, humor, memoir, nonfiction, relationships, true stories, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 1, 2014 by tenaciousbitch

No, I was not nor have I ever been in danger of suffocating. T’was a joke, you know. However, the corporate prison I’ve been living in for the last five weeks does make me feel somewhat claustrophobic.

For those who weren’t aware, after a couple part-time gigs doing customer service, I took a job as a fraud specialist for a mega-huge retailer, my first full-time job in nine long years. Unfortunately, due to the monumental credit card debt we accumulated while Nana was living with us has necessitated this drastic change in employment status.

Oh, how I miss the days when I was freelancing full-time, and I could get up at 8 a.m., eat breakfast, exercise, then park before the alter of my laptop and spend the next 5 or 6 hours writing…insert big, BIG sigh.

For the purposes of this blog, I shall refer to said new employer as Jeans, Inc. While I like the job itself, I’ve begun to loathe banks all the more due to the nightmare of trying to disentangle one’s self from various phone trees and speak to a PERSON while trying to confirm someone’s credit card info in order to prove or disprove whether an order is fraudulent.

And, ironically, the most difficult cyber wall/phone maze to crack are often the small banks, the credit unions and the like. You practically have to break your index finger punching nonsensical numbers before the damned things will finally allow you to segue into the wonderful world of being on hold.

I got so frustrated yesterday, I suddenly had the urge to stand up and throw my chair across the room. However, I’d rather not join the ranks of the unemployed because some really stupid people at Wells Fargo kept transferring me to the wrong department.

Meanwhile, the poor customer who lives in Argentina that I was trying to assist was racking up gigantic long-distance charges thanks to the morons who kept kicking my call into yet another mechanized black hole that led to the system where one could verify whether a customer had a checking account or not–so helpful when one is trying to verify a someone’s MASTERCARD, which was an actual MasterCard, not a debit card.

However, funny thing, one of the largest banks I’ve dealt with frequently is Chase Bank, and you’d think given the fact that they’re like the 3rd largest bank in the world that their phone network would be a guarded by some sort of cyber bear who wouldn’t let you speak to a person unless you had an oozy AND did the hokey pokey via Skype… :).

Instead, their electronic telephone menagerie is the most user friendly, believer it or not. If you press # and 0 two or three times, hiss – bang – boom, you’re on hold for a voice that actually has a pulse!

And that’s all I have to say about that..cuz – I must dash. I’m due at work in less than an hour. As a parting gift, I’d like to share the hilarious card that I gave my beloved Charlie (my husband) last week for his birthday…

PHOTO OF CATS - LITTER BOX BDAY CARD TO TONY

And inside it just says:

Hope you’re not too pooped to enjoy your birthday

with a few mushy words from me to the old man…

HAVE A GOOD DAY ALL, and don’t let the phone trees and dumb asses in the cyber cubicles (or actual cubicles) …get you down!  🙂

TenaciousB

And her band of truth-spouting hippies