Getting ready for my next project

This week I get to "rest" at the home office before heading out to a new jobsite. This time no one is going on vacation ("aww.."). This new jobsite is a slight shift in my career as I make the jump from Computers to Construction Management (all professions starting with a "c" are cool, aren't they?).

Maybe I should start from the begining of how I ended up where I am. On second thought, that'd take a whole book, so I'll give you the synopsis. Obviously I didn't grow up wanting to be a construction manager nor a computer. And anyway home computers weren't around when I grew up (this dates me, doesn't it?). No, I had a fairly normal dream for a girl. I wanted to be the Army General. I even had plans to outdo Moshe Dayan and take my ear off! But with me being fairly short I could only become Mrs. Napoleon. So I gave up on that dream.

I majored in Architecture and Construction Management, which is obvious how I landed up being a database programmer. Is anyone working in the field they studied?

Well, this year, as part of my quarter-life crisis I decided computer programmers are not valued in the construction industry, and if I don't make the switch I'll never become a general.

So next week I head off to my new client - a national institute. It'll be a short term project (I should be done before the end of the year), where I'll be working with WL from my company. Mr. WL hasn't heard yet what I had done to Johnny's trailer. We're going to keep this a secret for now. Until he goes on vacation.

I'm very excited about my new job, but probably all for the wrong reasons. I'll get to wear jeans every single day. Now how cool is that?! You see, I have this thing against dressing up for work. This is where I spend most of my waking hours, doing the most difficult physical and mental work of my day. I want to feel comfortable in my clothes! I want to stop wasting time every morning trying to match the shirt colour to the pants, and the shoes (you men have it so easy!!!). I just want to wake up, get into a pair of jeans, t-shirt and steel-toe boots and head off to work. Wearing jeans can't possibly impact my work ability to a point where I get fired, so why the restriction? In fact, I get far more productive and motivated when I'm comfortable. And that excuse about looking good for the client - well, I tell ya, the client needs to get over it! There are a ton of well-dressed idiots out there who can't perform their jobs, why don't you start focusing on the real problem in the workplace instead of the artificial ones.

But I digress. Back to my new job - WL called me yesterday to give me some final directions on what I'll do when I get there ("get your ID, your parking spot, and your orange cone"). So I get to have my own parking spot marked with an orange cone. I'm not too happy about the orange cone (for political reasons). Note to self: Ask WL if it'd be okay if I colour it in blue instead.

The other critical piece of information I got is that while WL will be in charge of placing a new generator in this building, I'm being put in charge of a wall. Yup, my first construction management responsibility is to be in charge of a wall! It's a special wall. Small. At the front entrance. Made of granite. Eight weeks lead time to manufacture. A weekend to put up. And I'm in charge of it. It's very exciting, don't you think? Hey, maybe I'll take some photos of this wall after I'm done with this project.

Yeah, I think I'll need to think up of how to decorate this wall in pink.

Client is gonna love me. Yes, sireee.

The Day After

This morning I was due at yet another new client's site (am I giving the impression that I'm a busy body?). So at 6:30am I was in my car headed to my new destination. No GPS this time. Or in other words - Yes, GPS was on, but d@mn clouds and rain were a huge hindrance in locating satellites. And no matter how much my brother will claim there's no connection, I believe there has to be some reason why every time it's cloudy and rainy my GPS can't find even one satellite.

At 7:30am I arrived at the front door of my new client, waiting to be signed in, when my cellphone rings. Johnny L. on the line.

Johnny: "********!!!"
Me: "Johnny?!!! How ARE you???" [with a big smile on my face] ..."How was your vacation??? Had fun?"
Johnny: "Yes, I had a lot of fun. Seems like you did, too!!!"
Me [laughing]: "Oh yeah! Most definitely."
Johnny: "I LOVE those curtains! And what you did to the trailer, is just beautiful! Now, you wouldn't happen to know what happened to my cordless phone, would you?"
Me [surprised]: "Ummmm...no. I didn't touch it. But wait...tell me - do you have large curtains hanging on the big windows?"
Johnny: "Yes, I do."
Me: "Call your client then."

At this point I had to get off the phone because my new client arrived.

Later this afternoon when I left work, knowing that Johnny has already left work a while ago, I called him back to ask if he's already been to the bathrooms and airconditioning unit. He confirmed that he had left everything the way it is, because he likes it. I confessed that I had taken photos of everything and posted them on the internet. He, in turn, admitted that he also took photos of everything to show his family.

Yeah, Johnny is a good sport. I think I'll nominate him for employee of the month for taking it so well.

I told him he's welcome to call me again when he goes on his next vacation. Got him laughing, but I'm not certain if he was ridiculing the thought or because he wants me to come back and take everything off (ummm..I mean "the decorations"!).


Mystery of cordless phone not resolved as of yet.

N.B. 2: My practical joke was definitely outdone by the demolished house across the street. Johnny was quite surprised at the sight of the building this morning. Of course after he saw his trailer he was certain I had something to do with it. I didn't correct him.

Johnny's Trailer

So this the elementary school where Johnny L. was placed as a Construction Manager. Typical construction site. What could possibly happen if Johnny takes a week vacation and puts me in charge?

Well, here's the problem: Johnny's trailer...

Anyone see the problem? It's gray. It's dull. It's missing something. It's missing a woman's touch. Johnny ought to be thankful that the company chose me to fill in while he's at the Beach.

So I did some shopping at Michael's for anything pink and/or girly. It was the client's idea to get some pink flamingoes and plant them at the front of the trailer. But where on earth do you buy those??? Has anyone actually seen a store carry them?

So I got the next best thing - pink flamingo curtains.

Wait... what's that sign up front say? I take no responsibility for this one. This was 100% the client's suggestion.

Some pink interior decorations for the eyes to feast on and a beautiful welcome sign will greet Johnny come Monday morning.

Of course, this dreary place needed some flowers and candles to add some "flare" to the place.

Yes, that flower up front was staple-gunned to the railing by the client himself! Notice the beautiful curtain in the window?

Keeping the fax and printer machine company he will find...

Yes, it says "Johnny's Pot" on it.

There's a closet in this trailer with hard hats and misc items, the client suggested we label this closet accordingly.

To make sure Johnny is proud of his trailer, this sign announces it quite clearly.

So this is the desk that Johnny will work at on Monday morning, right across this lovely pink bag that says:

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Now, of course, much of this effort would have not been as successful if it weren't for the client's glue gun that assured that Johnny will not be able to get rid of any evidence we leave for him. So what you see on the front doors is all super-glued!

Before leaving on vacation, Johnny left me instructions on how to handle the air-conditioning of the gym. On humid days I was to turn on the air-condition and turn it off at the end of the day. Knowing that Johnny sooner or later will have to visit this electrical room, which is across the jobsite. I decided to leave something for him right there.

But the trailer isn't everything that got a makeover. You see, at this elementary school Johnny has priviliges. He uses the bathrooms in the existent gym, while all the construction laborers use the port-a-potties. So a slight modification was necessary to the "boys bathroom."

Inside the bathroom, as Johnny looks into the mirror I'm positive he'll be thrilled to find this...:

And here's a few more of those girly stuff stickers...

The sticker on the left says "L8RG8R."

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Just to make sure that Johnny does remember that he loves his co-workers, I left him a reminder:

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For those among you worried about the cruel and unusual punishment, I did perform an act of kindness as well. I washed the floor in his trailer (and boy did it need washing with all the dirt Johnny's been bringing in!). So I'm not all that evil, after all.

I will eagerly await his phone call Monday morning at 6:30 am.

And if he chooses to call his boss first, he's in for a surprise, his boss and a few others in the office have already seen all these photos and had a good laugh. They requested that I post them on our company's network.

Now, if only I could explain to Johnny what happened to the house across the street, which was in perfect livable condition, before Johnny left on vacation, and now looks like this...

Last day on this jobsite

So today is my last day on this jobsite. It's been an interesting experience. Being the only female on site, I was sort of expecting the red carpet in front of my trailer and a whole lot of attention through the week. But in this politically correct world I think the men prefer to just ignore my existence entirely and not even attempt a "Good Morning" in case I sue them for sexual harrasment. So this had me wondering all week - am I that ugly? Or are they that scared of women on site?

Anyway....today I plan on fixing the gap between us by playing a practical joke on the guy we all love - the Construction Manager whom I'm replacing while he's at the Beach on vacation. That'll teach him! Whoever goes on vacation and leaves me to be in charge, ought to know better.

So this white trailer on the construction site, is going to get a makeover, with a delicate woman's touch. Yup, yesterday I went to Michael's and had some fun shopping for everything pink (I hate pink!!!). By the end of the day this trailer will be transformed from the plain white manly habitat, to the gentle delicate place it can be.

And Johnny, you better love it! Lots of brain power gone into this one, with the client's approval!

I took some "before" photos early this morning, so I can post here the Before and After during the weekend, if everything goes well.

Stay tuned for the update.

Toda la'ël ha'yom yom shishi ! [TGIF]

My husband's birthday

As I mentioned in yesterday's post it was my husband's birthday on Monday. I think people who celebrate birthdays on a Monday are rather lucky: We went out on Friday, we went out on Saturday, we went out on Sunday, we went out on Monday! Our refrigerator is stuffed with leftovers. A shelf for each day of celebration.

After last year's landmark birthday, this year was Recovery year. Birthday presents were given a week ahead (I wish you could schedule the postman not to bring parcels before the birthday). I got him the very lame mousepad, mug and notepad with his favourite photo of his Jeep on it. His Jeep is of course last year's birthday present (oh trust me, that wasn't my present. My present was agreeing to spend four days in a Jeep all the way from Montana, where he bought it, to the East Coast, where we live).

So Sunday we went out with our friends for dinner at Outback steakhouse. This is where we learned about my friend's exciting class, "Women with Balls." (She later corrected it to say, "Women with BIG Balls"). Definitely got a few stares from fellow waiting-in-line diners. For those of you with a vivid imagination, it's not what you think. It's one of those fitness classes with those huge plastic blue balls that you see at the Discovery Store.

The following day, my husband's actual birthday, we decided to go out to a seafood restaurant where he could have his favourite dish - a pound of steamed shrimps. I'll remind you that it's a Monday. No one ever goes out on a Monday! Everyone is recovering from the weekend.

But the place, which is typically packed and requires an hour wait, was not all that empty - though we did get to sit right away ("It'll be one minute wait, if you don't mind"). Then we looked at the menu, and lo and behold - the pound of steamed shrimp is a Wednesday special. This was a Monday! So my husband tries to be nice to Jay, our waiter and begs for an exception. Jay calls out to the boss across the room (did I mention the place was not all that packed?) and asks, "Is it okay if he orders a pound of shrimp today?" So the boss says, "What's the special occasion?!" Jay, trying to be helpful, answers right away, "He's going out of town." The boss comes over and asks my husband, "So where are you going?" Jay whispers in my husband's ear. Of course I didn't hear Jay, I only heard my husband say "Detroit." I'm thankful that my face didn't show the amused and amazed look. To recover from this outright lie, I decide to tell the truth and speak out loud, "It's his birthday today!" Jay and his boss look at me with that look of, 'Lady, couldn't you come up with a better lie. Everyone knows that the birthday excuse is overused to get a free dessert.' But they oblige and agree to give us the pound of steamed shrimp. That's when the lady at the table next to us tells Jay, "Oh, that's funny, it's my husband's birthday today, too!" So this time I give her the look of, 'Lady, you're not piggybacking on MY husband's birthday to get something free as well!"

But it was my husband's birthday so I tried to behave myself.

We got our food within ten minutes (typically you wait 30-45 minutes to be served in this restaurant). My husband is joyfully engaged in heaven, as all of a sudden loud singing erupts, "HAPPY birthday to you, HAAAApppy BIRTHday to you, HAAAAAAAAPPPPPPY birthday dear...., HAPPPY birthday to YOUUUUU!" But there's no one around our table. There's a table with eight people seated two rows back. My husband smiles and thinks it's cool that he got to hear the Happy Birthday song without any embarrassment. But then something odd happens.

The girl sitting one row behind us (different table from the lady next to us) gets up and walks over to congratulate the birthday man sitting in the table in the row behind her. That's when the man sitting next to us figures out what's going on and turns to this girl's boyfriend and asks him if today's her birthday. The boyfriend confirms, so the man laughs and says out loud for everyone to hear, "It's my birthday too, and his as well" as he points at my husband.

"Happy Birthdays" were sounded all around the restaurant. It was rather comic. I explained to my husband, "NO ONE goes out on a Monday, only people who were unfortunate enough to celebrate their birthdays on a Monday!" As the waiters come over to witness this amazing coincidence I asked Jay, does this happen often? And he's still in a state of shock and says, "I've never seen this happen and four tables right next to each other!"

Dinner was awesome! Company was wonderful. Jay's tip was high.

I think we now know where to go for my husband's birthday next year. It'll be a Tuesday.

No one ever goes out on a Tuesday.

The GPS from Hell

So Monday was one of those days where too much happens and you end up having to recover a full day after. It was my first day full-time on a jobsite. Yup, with my fancy construction boots (lovely shade of sandy yellow) and a hard-hat that's two sizes larger (Marvin the Martian comes to mind). It was also my husband's birthday, but that's for another post.

This jobsite is about an hour drive from my house, over the hills, across the beltway, past the CVS on the corner, across the $1.5 million house for sale. Needless to say, I was completely unfamiliar with the route to get here. So yes, I did map-google this jobsite as a backup (and boy am I thankful for it), but I've become accustomed to my GPS. As it happens, "my" GPS was celebrating exactly one year since it was given as a birthday gift to...my husband.

I take it everywhere, just in case I get lost, or in case I need to get to a new jobsite. It works great. Usually.

Before I continue maybe I should explain this GPS thing to those among you who have never had the pleasure of renting a car or don't have geeky friends and brothers. And if you've already seen what a GPS is and what it does, you can skip this part to the line of *****.

The GPS is a complex device that uses some higher intelligence than mine and is somehow capable of finding the dozen satellites that are circling above us. I won't get into the technical description of how it does it or what's in it, but basically it's a small palm sized box with one button "on/off". (I love devices with just one button! Can't go wrong with those.) When you turn the device "on" the blue light comes on, indicating that bluetooth technology is in process. Bluetooth technology means only devices with blue teeth can communicate with one another. If it has yellow rotting teeth, it can't communicate. Or something to that effect. Well, this bluetoothed GPS can communicate with my iPAQ, a PDA device. My iPAQ has many useful programs installed on it, ranging from my calendar, my contacts, Scrabble (useful only for those who remember what the board looks like), and a map program. This map program is key to my GPS function.

Mr. GPS communicates with Mrs. PDA (via bluetooth) and Mr. GPS tells the Mrs. - "I spy with my eye, Satellites up above, and I now know that you are in the following longitude and latitude." Mrs. PDA gets all excited and says, "Oh, in that case, I know exactly where you are, let me pull out the location on the map on earth where I believe you are." Mrs. PDA then shows this tiny arrow in the middle of the screen, located on a road (hopefully) on the exact location where I am.

My PDA

So what happens when I drive? My PDA is mounted nicely on the dash, next to my cellphone. Inbetween them is the small box-like GPS. (Sometimes I feel like I'm launching a missile from my car). The PDA screen shows me a map of where I am, with the arrow in the middle. As I drive, the map on the screen keeps moving, so that way the arrow is always located on the right street. I can instruct my map program to find the way to a certain location and then my PDA talks back and tells me which turns to make and which exit to take. Sometimes it can get rather insistent when it thinks you're going the wrong way, and will repeatedly tell you, "Make a U turn"..."Make a U turn." Thankfully, it does know where it is legal and where I should just carry on driving and make several turns to get back on track.

Off Road

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Back to Monday morning - I got in the car, all anxious about my new jobsite, placed my cellphone in its harness, turned the GPS on, put my PDA on the mounting device, entered my new destination's address and began driving. Everything seemed perfectly fine and normal for the first 45 minutes of my drive. Two states later, and my GPS is "off roading" me to hell. Well, it was Virginia, what could I expect...

As I approached the Pentagon, my PDA showed the arrow turning around and the streets on the map are no longer streets I recognize. This is not uncommon when the PDA and GPS are having an argument (it's an ego thing, I believe). But typically the Mr. apologises and things get back to normal within a minute.

Not this time.

Figures this would be my first day on the job and something would go seriously wrong.

So this map is now showing me driving through every non-street location on the map. Not only that, but apparently I was skipping over every possible road only to land on the piece of land inbetween them. Mind you, at this point I'm actually driving straight on a highway at 65 mph (for the law enforcement personnel among you - I was driving 55 mph just like every other law abiding citizen on the beltway). Now I get a bit annoyed because I really need to know which exit to take off from this hell road. But my PDA and GPS are in a divorce court, and the screaming match ensues. My PDA shouts, "Make a left turn".."make a right turn".."Find the nearest road".."merge"..."make a u turn"..."make a u turn!" .."MAKE A U TURN!" Short of slapping it silly and throwing it out the window I decide to smile at my fellow drivers who are honking at me and wondering why I look so confused. My PDA continues to admonish me for not driving on the road and keeps identifying me as "off-roading" by the Pentagon. With all the directions it gave me, I swear to God, if I had done any of those turns and illegal U'ees, the police would have arrested me for drunken driving and locked me for life! As well they should with this insane GPS.

Eventually I decide to take an exit and find a place to stop and regroup, meditate, and re-evaluate if I really want my job that bad. I also revert to plan B, call my husband and ask him to google-map me and tell me how to get to my desired destination without getting arrested. So I stop my car and observe my PDA, and there it is - the arrow and the streets moving as if I were high on adrenaline and driving a Hummer. And I'm thinking, maybe I didn't quite park and it thinks I'm still in motion. I look outside at other reference points, and sure enough all the trees are standing still, the parked car in front of me without the driver is at a stand-still and the old man across the street is walking in a relatively normal speed. I think back to my physics lessons, Einstein and relativity theories and I conclude that I'm indeed at a full stop. But no, my PDA shows me driving off-road on streets I have not seen on the way, at 35 mph. So I dial my husband's number, and as I wait for him to answer, my PDA starts flashing red in the corner admonishing me for going past the speed limit at 55 mph (mind you, I'm on a side street where the speed limit is 25 mph, and I'm parked!). Then I watch in amazement as my supposed driving-speed is exceeding not only the road's speed limit but some other vehicular-possible driving limits. It flashes like crazy as my speed limit goes up to 75 mph...120 mph...(this is when I double-check to make sure I didn't accidently switch to km instead of miles)...175 mph, 250 mph, 371 mph ! And my husband answers the phone as I'm in stitches from laughter. I then request my husband for "Permission to land my aircraft." At this point my husband is convinced my headache is a bit more serious than what he was led to believe that morning. I proceeded to explain that according to my GPS my Honda Civic had a lift-off by the Pentagon and I'm flying at a comfortable pace of 371 mph over Arlington.

I check the sky above to see if there are any top-secret Pentagon released stealth aircrafts following my car and homing in on my GPS and I spot nothing. I decide to grab my demon-possessed PDA and soft reboot it. When in doubt, reboot.

After a minute or two, my PDA and GPS have forgotten their argument and begin cooperating. I find out that I was a mere 200 feet from my destination. Never thought I'd be so happy to arrive anywhere.

n.b. (nizkarti ba'davar, or P.S. for the English speaking among you): I tried my GPS again the following day and sure enough, at the Pentagon (AGAIN) I was joyfully off-roading according to my GPS. My husband tells me that there must be too many Satellites there, causing my GPS an overload of data flow. So if anyone from the Pentagon is reading this, cut it out! It's not so amusing, guys.

Finding Satellites

A blog by Anonymous

So after some prodding of another blogger, I've decided to take the jump and start my own blog.

The problems I came across when contemplating a blog is the use of my name – do I write under my real name (which is quite unique and easily identifiable), or do I take a pseudonym. And if I take a pseudonym, then I cannot talk about everything I want to talk about because it’ll give too much away. So I’m torn between – wanting to reveal everything, but not wanting to reveal too much. Of course with this comes the question of – whom do I tell about my blog. And then I have to refrain from writing anything that I wouldn't want these people to read.

One would think this shouldn't be brain surgery, but here I am already with a headache over this, and no pill in sight.

So why write a blog? Because things happen in my life that are worth telling. These don't necessarily happen every day, so I don't think this will be a daily blog. But sometimes I'd go through a day with enough material to cover an entire week. Like the one yesterday...