A few enteries from my professional diary

Sept. 4: I started working for a new company. I LOVE my new employer!
Sept. 9: I've been given two projects to manage. I'm very excited. I LOVE my coworkers!
Sept. 15: I'm managing the construction of two dining facilities. Sweet! I LOVE my projects!
Sept. 22: I'm the project manager. Someone else is the construction manager. I cannot be blamed for anything. Awesome! I LOVE my position!

Oct. 15: I've been asking the contractor to provide me a schedule for two weeks now. I LOVE the commute!

Nov. 6: They found severe termite damage in my building. Structural Engineer's report says, "Building is supported on the stucco and siding. Do not proceed to work until proper support is put in place."
Nov. 14: Still no schedule. Contractor claims the project will be done by Dec. 14. Construction Manager sends a threat letter to the contractor - deliver or be fired. I LOVE my construction manager!
Nov. 30: I asked the contractor when he will complete the project. He said "Dec. 14", so I asked "and when do you plan to increase the number of construction workers on site. Like from one person to possibly two." I got the look.

Dec. 4: Woooohooo! I got the schedules! Bad news - one project's deadline is April 15th, and the other is July 21st. I announced to the world "unacceptable!" I LOVE my role in life!
Dec. 10: Contractor decided to core drill through the slab without x-raying first. Abandoned conduits were the victims. Core drill is performed with a diamond drillbit and water to cool it down. Water travels in conduits. Abandoned conduits typically end wherever the previous tenant cut them. Water finds three cubicles, two computers, one cellphone, tons of paperwork. My second floor tenant is not happy. But since my client trumps them by a few ranks, they don't file a complaint. I feel lucky. But I update my resume just in case.
Dec. 20: Plumber contractor comes across asbestos. Building is closed down until they perform asbestos abatement.
Dec. 28: I asked for a status on the schedule. Wanted to know where we stand with the recent developments and the requirements to crash the schedule.

Jan. 10: Freaking contractor calls in OSHA due to more asbestos. OSHA comes and tickets them for safety violation. Area is declared hard hat construction site. I LOVE OSHA!
Jan. 20: Still no schedule.
Jan. 21: Lead paint found in the bathrooms. Enough to make toys for the local Toys R Us store.
Jan. 28: I finally decided which trusses and which rafters will be painted and stained. I sent seven pages of a visual display of what should be the final result. I paid my sister-in-law to do her magic in Photoshop (she's a graphic designer). I LOVE my sister-in-law!

Feb. 1: Construction Manager told me one project will be completed March 1, and the other will be completed April 21.
Feb. 2: I told my client that one project will be completed March 31 and the other will be completed May 23.
Feb. 4: Plumbers found more asbestos in my building. I HATE these plumbers!
Feb. 10: I told the contractor that the two bathrooms each get two windows - one on each exterior wall.
Feb. 13: Painter started painting the rafters. Despite my seven page visual he painted the historical trusses which were supposed to remain dark. I started climbing on the scaffolding to slap him silly. Superintendent stopped me. I gave him the look.
Feb. 15: Future chef wants a take-out window between the kitchen and the waiter station. I LOVE my future chef. He's cool!
Feb. 20: We met with the structural engineer, architect, construction managers, contractors, and all of gods children. Future take-out window must be very carefully coordinated due to a diagonal structural beam running through the wall.
Feb. 21: I took some photos of future location of take-out window, put them in power point, pointed out where structural joist is, what height to put the window. I LOVE taking photos!

Mar. 3: I told the contractor that those new studs in front of the future windows in the bathrooms must go. I'm surrounded by morons.
Mar 5: My construction manager breaks the news that the contractor will not be done on Mar 1, and has been given a drop-dead date of Mar 14.
Mar 7: I move my office location to the job site in anticipation of performing the punch list walkthrough. Soon. I can't stand this cold weather out here. Only one more week to go!
Mar 14: I wear black for the funeral. Contractor hasn't dropped dead, but I'm about to kill him.
Mar 15: Construction Manager forgets to mention that the drop-dead date has been extended to Mar 21. I'm hoping he'll drop dead soon.
Mar 20: Spring is here. Bird entered the kitchen. I sent a ticket to get it removed. Security emailed back "which type of shotgun should we use?" Future chef emails me "how would you like your wild game cooked?"
Mar 24: Contractor covered future windows in the bathrooms with drywall. HELLO? Anybody in there??? Remove them NOW!

Mar 25: Contractor decided to try out a switch. It was the fire alarm. The entire building was vacated. Some really important people were inconvenienced for 45 minutes. Important people weren't very happy. They don't love me any more.
Mar 27: Contractor installs tiles over future windows. Ok, I swear to dog, if I have to tell this moron one more time that there are WINDOWS going in there, I'm going to freaking bring a knife and cut the windows out myself!
Mar 27: I walk the site with future chef. Future chef looks at take-out window installation and exclaims, "Wasn't that a structural joist?" I look over, and sure enough, freaking contractor has cut the structural joist straight through! I count to ten and call the superintendent over, "Sup, did you consult a structural engineer before cutting this beam?" He responded with, "No, but don't worry, I'll just put a couple of 2x4's right above, and it'll be fine." I took a deep breath and called Construction Manager. Told him, "I LOVE my job! I LOVE my job! I LOOOOVE my job!" Construction Manager said, "Oh cr@p, I'll be right over!"

Mar 28: That's tomorrow. I have to wake up early. I need to spend a couple of hours writing up a list of things that need to happen before I'll be willing to walk the site and perform a punch list. Like, I want the kitchen equipment installed. I want running water. I want the wall base down. I want the chair rail. I want the bathroom stalls. I want the wall paint done. You know, little things like that.
Mar 31: I need to bring a knife to work. Must commit harakiri. Promised my client project would be done. I already know it won't.

I LOVE my job!
I HATE my contractor!
I LOVE my employer!
I HATE the plumbers!

I'm not taking a break

I was forced to take a break.

You all remember my room with all the papers scattered around?

Three weekends ago we went to IKEA and bought two filing cabinets for all those papers. But here's the problem with IKEA - you go in for one thing, and you end up with something different. We ended up with a major plan of reorganizing the house furniture.

Two cabinets from the computer room had to be moved, computer table had to be moved, filing cabinets needed to be assembled, papers filed, etc.

Did you all catch the part about "computer table had to be moved"?

Yeah, it weighs a ton. So computer needed to be dehooked and rehooked in the new location. But in my zealousness for cleaning two weekends ago, and in my husband's eagerness to show me all the dust everywhere, he pointed to the dusty cover on my PC. Then he decided he needed to check how much dust is INSIDE the PC.

Needless to say, it was dusty. Very.

And what do you know, I had a can of compressed air used to clean keyboards, so why not use it?! Like Adam and Eve, I gave him the apple. He ate it. Computer innards were spotlessly clean when he was done with that can.

Then it was time to reconnnect the cables and boot the PC.

Yeah, you guessed it, $189 and two weekends later I still have no PC and Best Buy is making a study case of my PC. All their diagnostics indicate hard drive is perfectly fine. Problem is you can't reboot the darn thing!

Mind you, this is the PC I got a year ago because the previous one passed away while still on warranty. I paid $199 for this PC. Actually, no, I paid nothing for it. I paid $199 for a 2-year warranty. Which is wonderful, except that...ok, ask me when was the last time I backed up the information on that PC [not recently], and ask me how much it costs for a lab to backup your hard drive [$500].

Oh forget it, don't ask. I'm depressed as is.

Didn't get anything for my birthday. Yes, you all read that right. I got NOTHING. I did get a ton of phone calls and wishes from people I haven't heard from in a long time, and that definitely made me happy. Plus everyone's posts on my blog! That was awesome. You guys rock. But I got no presents. Did I mention I'm married? Yeah, he didn't forget my birthday, he just didn't get me anything for it.

I was almost ready to get the divorce papers signed on Valentine's Day. But 12 roses did magically appear on the dining room table behind my laptop.

I apologise for the lack of drawing on this post. My father's drawings are in another email account and once I log on to that account it logs me off blogger. Which sucks and aggravates the hell out of me. That's also the reason I often opt not to blog. It's just too much effort to log on to a different account just to blog. I wish they made it a bit simpler where it wasn't linked to an email account.

Done ranting. For now.

Driving outside of DC

I've been reading tips on how to keep the brain working and avoid early onset of Alzheimers, and one of the suggestions was to take a different route to work or back from work.

I work in DC, so obviously there are numerous routes I could take from one point to another. Heck, I even have several options of bridges to cross if I really want to get adventurous.

But honestly, I don't think I need to, because every single time I've taken 295 south and crossed the Wilson Bridge, I've been re-routed by orange cones/flashing signs/accidents/concrete barriers/new paint on the road/and police officers to a new unrecognized totally fresh detour home.

I am willing to bet that the rate of Alzheimers in Northern Virginia will be tremendously reduced in the next 30-40 years as a result of the Wilson Bridge construction site. Of course that's if anyone remains alive after this project has taken so many years off our lives with the stress of driving over it.

You wake up in the morning and you just never know which lane you'll end on, and where it will take you. And even if you took one route in the morning, once you get off work, you better be prepared for the commute from hell back home because some bozo contractor decided that Halloween is the perfect day to mess up on the job and screw everyone's commute home.

If you're about to take a drive to Virginia, and you haven't lived here this past week, I caution you - have your GPS ready because even the landmarks are different now. Oh, and ignore the GPS warning as you drive on the Wilson Bridge and it shouts at you: "Find the nearest road!"

And by the way, don't try to get clever on me and decide you'll just catch a taxi, 'cause the b@stards will be on strike when you need them.


I am reminded of my favourite poem of all times, the first poem that I learned in English, written by Robert Frost:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Or in my own words:

Someone made me take the road less travelled, and I'll be darned if it didn't make a difference. Indeed, a half hour longer commute worth of a difference.

What a nightmare

A couple of weeks ago I went to a local family doctor with the goal of setting up a file with him in case I ever need something from a local doctor and can't drive all the way to Maryland for it. An hour and a half of a visit, with tons of questions and a thourough examination. At a certain point, out of the blue, he started asking me questions that were totally unrelated to everything else I discussed with him.

I was supposed to rank the answers from 0 to 3. Zero being unlikely and 3 being very likely. After several questions he looked on his monitor and says, "you have one of the highest scores I've ever seen, I'm giving you a referral for a test."

At this point I no longer cared because after being diagnosed only a week earlier with yet another chronic illness, I was so grateful when he undiagnosed me, that I was willing to give him a go at a new diagnosis.

This weekend I spent the night away from my husband. I wish I could tell you all it was an exciting night with this fantastic new lover I found, but as you all know me, I lead a non-exciting life. I spent the night at a hospital in a sleeping lab. Apparently the doctor doesn't think it's normal to fall asleep when reading a boring book, watching a boring TV show, surfing the internet at work or riding in a car as a passenger. Obviously this doctor is so local that he's never had to commute from Maryland to Virginia through the DC beltway and the Wilson Bridge to fully appreciate how boring this traffic can be on any given day at any given time. The only point of interest that I wake up for are crossing the Wilson Bridge because I love watching the construction progress on it, and the Severn River bridge because I love imagining how some construction could improve traffic on it.

Honestly, I don't think my case is so unusual, I've seen numerous people fall asleep as passengers in the HOV lanes. And I'm willing to bet I'm not the only person who falls asleep after two pages in a boring book, or across the history channel on TV, or while reading my blog.

But like I said, I didn't mind this test. Until the morning after.

Like.Oh.My.Dog. Do they honestly think I can fall asleep with all those electrodes attached to my head, neck, ears, legs, finger, chest and abdomen? Oh and wait, did they really think I can have a good night's sleep with the camera watching me all night? And what about that flow of cold air at my face? Was I supposed to ignore it and manage to stay asleep? You've got to be kidding me! Needless to say, I didn't get a good night's sleep out of this test. And the nerve, they woke me up at 5am on a Sunday!

I won't know the results for another two weeks. But whatever the results are, I just really hope I don't have to go back and repeat this test, because that wasn't as much fun as I expected.

Of course as soon as the doctor told me I have a sleeping problem, I'm more conscience of it and can't seem to get a good night's sleep only to end up wiped out and exhausted during the day.

And that's my excuse why I haven't written this weekend in my blog. I'll try to come up with more creative stories in future.

I have an idea

I was sitting in a restaurant with my husband when I realised there was absolutely no reason for me to freeze when it was fantastic weather outside. So I came up with a wonderful idea to help the environment, stop global warming, prevent the obesity epidemic, and increase Americans' savings accounts.

It is absolutely beautiful outside and finally warmer than freezing. Yet, inside restaurants are freezing their customers. This makes for a very uncomfortable setting to eat a meal. Especially for us thin people who have no extra fat to warm us up. Thing is, after the very long American winters, I don't see why we can't just enjoy the nice warm weather finally, and instead we continue to freeze the inside of all establishments and work places.


So I'm starting a new campaign. Increase the temperatures in restaurants by three degrees. No one will complain with just three degrees. It's hardly noticeable. Those who will complain are those who have too much fat on their bones already and are always sweating and hot. This will make it very uncomfortable for obese people to go eat in restaurants, and in essence will force them to start cooking at home. Now since the main reason they're going to restaurants is because they're too lazy to cook, then if they stay home they won't cook as much. As a result, they'll end up losing weight. When they become thin again, they won't suffer from the warmer restaurants anymore and will be able to enjoy life again.


The increase of temperatures in restaurants will bring more skinny people to these establishments, and we all know that skinny people eat like there's no tomorrow, yet disgustingly they still stay thin. Well now the restaurants won't be losing any money from the loss of obese clientele, and instead will gain a whole lot of very hungry skinny people.


But I'm not stopping with restaurants. Now we move on to the malls and other establishments. We raise the temperatures by just a little bit. Enough to make one heck of an impact on the excess usage of electricity in this country, but not enough to collapse the capitalism on which it's built. As a result we will have very slight differences of temperatures between the outside and the inside. Kids will grow up not really noticing much of a difference if they go outside, and consequently will decide to spend more time playing outside. Bonus: childhood obesity is halted with a brilliant plan of luring kids to play outside in the nice weather, which just happens to be very slightly different from the weather inside the mall.

Another small bonus: the obese people who typically sweat a lot, will sweat even more, therefore losing more pounds from a stay at the mall.

But let's not stop at the mall, we'll encourage people to reduce their usage of electricity by keeping the houses warmer just a tad bit. Show them the huge savings they make over a year by doing so. Maybe give them some incentives through the electricity companies for saving every year. Sort of like the incentives they give to commuters who opt to give rides to others. People will learn to save and not just money, but the global environment!

For those of you who think this post is anti-fat-people, you're wrong. It's not all about you. It's about me. Always is. I've had enough of suffering from being so thin and always cold. And I'm going to do something about it!

When my nephew was three years old, he'd get quite excited and turn a bit loud. His parents would guide him gently to lower his voice. He's a quick learner. One day his mom took him to shop for food and as they were standing in line, there was a mother and a small girl in front, and the girl was quite loud. My 3-year old nephew went over, tapped on her shoulder and said, "Turn it down a notch."

Well, in that spirit I will name my campaign "Turn it UP a notch!"

SILENCE!

It's been almost three months since we moved closer to DC. On my second week at this house I had this wonderful dream that we moved to a Penguin Colony. I would walk out to the woods, and there were Penguins coming up from the ocean and walking through the woods. I was in heaven just watching them right outside my backdoor. When I woke up I had a huge smile on my face and proceeded to tell my husband about my dream. His reaction was "ok, that's stupid! How can we have any Penguins in our backyard if they've been eaten by the snakes in the swamp?!" If we ever have kids, I think I need to start on a therapy fund for them.

So feeling rather sad about the loss of the Penguins, I told my mom about my dream. My dad's response was "you're the only person I know on earth who lives in a Penguin colony!" Within a couple of days, he sent me the new drawing above. His interpretation of where I live now.

I may live near DC but I can still dream of other places of wonder.

A month after we moved I caught a serious flu and stayed home all day. As I was recuperating, it happened to be the two very warm days outside, so I opened the sliding back door and read a book.

No. I TRIED to read a book.

Apparently, I'm perfectly fine with Big Bird outside my window, but I'm NOT fine with small chirpy birds outside my window. And oh.my.god can these damn birds settle on ONE type of sound and stick to it? What is their fucking deal? Why do they do this chirp chirp [long pause] CHIRP CHIRP ???

In the old house I couldn't fall asleep with a window open because of the crickets, frogs, and crows. So yay, I got rid of the crickets and frogs, but instead they were replaced by ten different types of birds chirping with their own accent at their different pace and attitude in life. I could not relax and enjoy a quiet book. I just wanted to scream SILENCE at the world and hope that "someone" would pay attention and possibly drop a cat on each bird in my neighbourhood, but seeing that I have a dog I didn't think it likely to happen.

I just can't stand nature noises outside my house. Give me the bus, the police car siren, the ambulance, and a bunch of rude teenagers with loud music in their cars, and I can fall asleep to the serene sound of humanity. But if those are absent, I don't want to hear anything that isn't an artificial sound. And definitely nothing that would alarm me, cause me to jump off my seat, or irritate the hell out of me because it's repetitive and won't shut up on command.

Nature should be seen and not heard. Just like small kids (which is what my father strongly believed in and he was right!).

The only acceptable sounds on earth should be music. Nature should be completely silent, and there should be these music boxes installed next to natural spots (the beach, the lake, the mountains, etc), so if you're tired of the silence, you pick the box up and you listen to the selected sound track.

Disclaimer: I suppose I should mention that I do have Sensory Integration Disorder and therefore any sound irritates me and I'd only be happy in vacuum.

Parking in DC

I don't have an excuse for not writing every day. I'm just debating every day what to write about, because so much is happening that my mind is in a mess. So I end up sitting at the end of the day just vegging out and trying to process the thoughts in my head and put everything into order.

I'll start with a rant, because this really ticked me off. I got a parking ticket in the mail a month ago when I had the flu. The parking ticket ominously told me I was over 30 days late on paying a parking ticket on 2/1/07. Needless to say I was absolutely stunned that I was 30 days late on anything but my period. But since I was down with the flu I could only muster enough energy to cry and feel like shooting myself. My husband tried to dissuade me from killing myself by saying it's easier to pay the $50 ($25 + the late fee). But that's not the reason I cried. I cried because I never GOT the first ticket AND the parking meter was NOT expired. And it's my freaking word against a stupid ass traffic cop who decided to make some extra money for the DC government. It's totally wrong that I go through life trying to be the most law abiding person there is. I do everything by the book. I refuse to do anything illegal even when my peers mock me for it. I refuse to copy software programs and I always buy original CD's and software licenses. And then comes along someone who represents the law and pins ME - of all people, this cop finds ME???? What the FUCK! Let me point to you who you should hassle every day. Let me show you where to concentrate your law enforcement efforts.

After I was convinced that killing myself will not make this cop change his method, nor will it make my dog happy - I decided to do the next honorable thing. I went to court to contest it. It's not about the money. It's about the principal. I did nothing wrong and I didn't see a reason I should pay for doing nothing wrong!

Yes, I took a day off work, took the METRO for the first time from the station near my house, figured out how to get to the DC courthouse (and boy was that confusing with the multiple entrances and clueless cops), waited in line, only to fight a $50 ticket (ironically, if I had waited one more day, I would have found in the mail the ticket with another late fee totalling a $55 ticket!).

I sat across the judge with three other criminals like me. Two of them - I swear to dog, I have no idea how they even had the mental capacity to figure out where the DC court was LOCATED! These men sat across from the judge as she asked them simple questions about their parking tickets (ten tickets between the two of them). I honestly wish I could repeat the entire case here, but I could not for the life of me even understand what they were uttering in their version of English. All I know is that after two minutes of "was this your car? is this car registered under your new address? why didn't you pay the ticket?" they responded with "I didn't know I had to register my car when moving" and that about closed their case against them. Ask me if I would have known to register my car if I moved from Washington DC to Washington DC - heck no! Com'n, where am I supposed to find this out?

But I digress. By the time my turn is up, the judge is not in her bestest moods. I took the oath, I swore to secrecy, I promised my mommy's life if I lied. Did the judge even CARE??? HECK NO!

So here's what happened. I attended a farewell luncheon in DC for a coworker. This luncheon was planned and scheduled via 5 emails, a calendar invite and phone calls. In order to attend it I had to drive my car from a location 20 minutes away, with another coworker. I parked across from the restaurant next to a parking meter. Bear in mind, this isn't the first time in my 20 years of driving that I parked next to a meter. I've grown up in a city, I lived in a city, I'm a city girl. I know how to use a meter. My coworker and I had very limited time for this luncheon. Less than 2 hours. So we put enough money in the meter for 2 hours. Plenty to cover the time at the restaurant. Keep in mind that between my coworker and I there are four college degrees - so we're not idiots. We had lunch, which was less than 2 hours long. We left. We got to my car, we had a few minutes left on the parking meter - my coworker sighed a sigh of relief because he's the type of person who would have felt REALLY bad if I had gotten a ticket while giving him a favour of a ride. Not only that, but he would have offered to pay the ticket if there was one, because he feels he owes me his life (I helped him with his career). Had I gotten a ticket for $25 I would have been pissed and paid it off right away, or at the latest - end of the month, when I pay the bills.

I came in front of the judge with a letter from my coworker explaining this exact story and confirming my side. First thing the judge says: "This letter should have been notarized. I cannot accept this as evidence." WTF! When I called the number on the ticket and asked how to contest it, no one mentioned that evidence must be freaking notarized! Then the judge didn't believe me that I was at the restaurant less than two hours, in spite of me explaining to her that it takes me 20 minutes to drive from work to DC and back, and I was gone only two and a half hours from work overall. Then she didn't believe me that when I got the letter in the mail I actually remembered what I did on 2/1/07 at 2pm, regardless of me trying to explain to her that it was on my Outlook calendar because I don't frequent DC at lunchtime that often and I NEVER take 2 hour lunch breaks without it being on my calendar because my boss needs to know where I am. Then she didn't believe me that I actually LOOKED at the meter when I got back to the car and saw that it wasn't expired (ok, what the hell??? Doesn't EVERYONE check the meter to make sure there is time left, just so they can say 'phew, I made it!'? Am I such a freak???). Then she didn't believe me I had a dozen witnesses who saw me get into the car and if I DID have a ticket on my car they would have made fun of me and I would have been embarrassed as hell, because everyone KNOWS how much of a law abiding person I am (yeah, I'm so anal that I track my time at work to the 15 minute accuracy, and if I surf the Internet 15 minutes I add on 15 minutes to the end of the day before leaving work). THEN...she didn't believe me I read the right parking meter! Whoa, lady, are you seriously comparing me to the two cerebrally challenged people who sat here before me?!

This ended up with the judge ruling $25 ticket remains. She gave me the benefit of the doubt about not getting the first ticket on the windshield of my car. And she decided to accept the letter, even though it wasn't notarized because I guess she realised it was ridiculous that no where on the DMV website or on the phone did anyone TELL me it was supposed to be notarized. MORONS!

So to the idiot DC cop who decided he should pick on a Hybrid car with a Maryland license plate - I hope a Maryland cop tickets you for speeding and arrests you for being an asshole.

To the potentially retarded kid who decided to remove the ticket from my windshield just to see how much fun it would be for me to have thoughts of killing myself - I hope one day you'll have kids who end up in jail.

To the asshole judge who wouldn't believe a law abiding citizen who TOOK THE OATH, I hope you'll continue to question every person who tells you the truth, to a point of becoming paranoid, schizophrenic and hospitalized in an insanity asylum.

Because I AM a law abiding citizen, and it blows when the judicial system sucks so much that instead of keeping me safe from the criminals, they pursue the innocent.


Yeah, this rant is a better option over killing myself. But damnit I so wanted to die just so the headlines would say, "DC cop causes death of an innocent law abiding citizen. DC cops apparently have solved all crimes in the Nation's Capitol and have nothing better to do." Or something like it.