Powderpuffs Enter Nasty Badlands

By J.J. Starr, Plucky Girl Reporter


It was daybreak in San Francisco’s scenic Potrero District, and the Powerpuffs were lost. Huddled in a mass of powder-blue uniforms, the players stared blankly as smoke and vapors trailed by like cheesy special effects from an ELO concert. The site—former facility of a Team That Must Not Be Named—still bore the scars of a previous baboon-related incident. Police tape and half-eaten fruit littered the foundations of a brand-new memorial by Maya Lin. Hesitatingly but inevitably, as if she herself were obeying an animal instinct, Coach Crev stepped up to the podium and the one remaining microphone.

“I know you must be wondering why we are here,” said coach Crev. “I know I sure am. No, really, I don’t know were we are. Is this the corner of 24th and Pennsylvania? We need to get to 30th and Mission.”

“We have clearly lost our way. One minute ago, we were just one injured Donovan McNabb away from the number one slot. Times were good, money flowed like water, and we all had fun on that sex boat thing. Now Something Bad Has Happened, and we are quickly drifting down to obscurity. We’ve apparently wandered into someone else’s turf—you know, the one who wantonly provokes primates. Speaking of which, I haven’t heard a report from that coach in a while. Um, is this thing even on?”

Looking somewhat nasty and infected, coach Crev refused to show remorse over her past decisions. “Yes, I know mistakes were made. And yes, it’s true that 45 points were left on the bench last week. But I’m not the kind of coach to looks backwards. I am Coach Looky McForwardton, and there will sure be some changes around here.”

Coach Crev glared at the press corps assembled before her, and raised her fist. “Team Wiggum is going down! We don’t need a star quarterback to win! We don’t need a b-grade, incredibly disappointing quarterback to win either! We’ve got that new guy! You know, Hurd! Heard? Hoo-wurd? How the hell do you say his name? It doesn’t matter! We pronounce it WINNER!”

As members of the press corps suddenly found something better to do and somewhere better to be, the Powderpuffs arranged themselves in alphabetical order behind Coach Crev. Many were lollygagging, visibly aging, or talking to their agents. Edgerrin James, the one player allowed to speak to the press, freely expressed chagrin over his decision to join the beleaguered ‘Puffs: "I wasn't prepared for this, man, I really wasn't, when making my decision," he said. "I don’t know what we’re doing now."

Asked to comment on the interview, benched quarterback Matt Hasselbeck said only “Ouch.”

Yay. Boo. Repeat ad infinitum.

I envy people who know what to do with their lives. How is it that someone knows they want to be an astronaut at age 6, or a doctor at age 11--and then sticks to it through all of the education and training? (I wanted to be an astronaut when I was 6...but it didn't stick. Actually actually, what I wanted was more like a part-time astronaut, firefighter on the weekends, schoolteacher every other Tuesday, and an artist on Labor Day. Even at an early age I couldn't make up my mind.)

Somehow I have become worse with age. Now I feel like I not only don't know what I'm supposed to be doing with my life, I don't even know what kind of person I'm supposed to be or how I'm supposed to approach my life. Things are moving too fast, and I don't know I should react or feel about it. I have a job offer...for a job I'm not so excited about. The job I'm excited about is many rounds of interviews and an offer away, so it's very possible I might not get it, but also possible I might. Do I take friggin' job #1 already? I've been derailed on this process so many times that I shouldn't take that offer for granted. And other friends have been frustrated so far in their job searches; I have been luckier than many and shouldn't forget that. But this other job might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If I get it. Honestly, it's probably out of my league. AND I just found out that the scary form I had refused to fill out for my proto-job (#1) will need to be filled out after all. Authorizing them to run a financial report on me in order to get a job is wrong, just wrong. Authorizing a check into my "personal characteristics" and "mode of living" is even wrong-er. What the hell is my mode of living? (don't answer that) And they want me to come to some event on the 1st. And they have sent me materials on their past research projects. And the HR gal is literally calling me 2+ X every day with some update on some damn thing, and did I get the other email she sent, etc. etc. I should be excited, and I kind of am, but I'm also feeling like they are wayyyyyyy up in my grill.

Meanwhile my JOBjob is driving me nuts. I am supposed to get authorization from my manager's manager to share my experiences with the methodology we are all supposed to be learning. My new manager is going to sit in on the session, apparently to ensure I don't stray from the party line while communicating things like "one of the slides you'll need isn't in option A on the spec form, it's actually in option B, but option B looks like it's something else, so you need to specify exactly what you need and also include an example. Oh, and now you'll need to sign this NDA." On the other hand, my manager is at least kind and tactful in how he's communicating this, and I do think the trust issue is driven more by his boss than by him, and I wouldn't be able to do the session at all if he wasn't there. At least this way my pals won't be stuck trying to get option B when they are up against a deadline.

Also--I now deeply understand that the 2 year service for my car is really really expensive. Huh. And so are 4 new tires to replace the bald ones. Yesterday I was thinking that I have almost paid off my unexpected debts. You know, not credit card or loan debt--hah!--but all of the expensive one-offs like birthday gifts, medical bills, etc. Surprise! The universe smiled at the very idea and vigorously kicked me in the crotch.

And, the cherry on top--the one that keeps me up at night. How do you know when a friend is fucking you over? What do you do about it? Yeah, that issue is back again. This person says that he is supporting me and has my back, and I think he believes that he is...but bad things keep happening to me when he is "supporting me." And there's some circumstantial evidence against him. Do I confront him and express my feelings? If so, it probably won't go well, and he is not a good enemy to have. Do I share my experiences and ask for clarification? Will he get pissed and start really undermining me? Will he know I'm onto him? (is there something for me to be onto?) Do I just shrug it off as his issue? Do I go on the offensive and start undermining him right back? Do I suck it up and try to be professional? Do I maintain that relationship--and will that benefit me at all, or actually hurt me?

I am confused. There is positive stuff in here, and some negative, but I can't sort it out. I'm just so overwhelmed by stuff and the speed at which it changes from good to bad and back. Buried in there is a larger question about how I should approach all of this. Share my feelings? Speak up? Stfu because it won't matter anyways? Stfu and just stop letting it bother me? Stfu and be appropriately grateful for the good stuff? Be nice? Be a bitch? Stand up for abstract principals, even if means losing a job offer? Knowingly string along a potential employer to explore a risky proposition? Take the bird in the hand? I don't know the answer to any of this. I'm stuck in reactive mode as events unfold: yay boo yay yay boo boo boo yay boo yay yay boo yay boo boo yay yay boo whut? boo boo yay boo yay yay ??? boo boo yay boo yay boo yay yay boo boo boo yay boo yay yay boo yay boo boo yay yay boo wtf? boo boo yay boo yay yay boo boo yay boo yay boo yay yay boo boo boo yay boo yay yay boo yay boo boo yay yay boo whut? boo boo yay boo yay yay !!! boo boo yay boo yay boo yay yay boo boo boo yay boo yay yay boo yay boo boo yay yay boo eh? boo boo yay boo yay yay boo boo yay boo yay boo yay yay boo boo boo yay boo yay yay boo yay boo boo yay yay boo huh? boo boo yay boo yay yay ??? boo boo yay boo!

Tiny Shiny Things

I don't have enough time for another blog. I just don't. But I'd love to have a craft blog. I read several every week and each one has post after post of all of the cute little things they have made. I don't know how they do it. I swear to God these people don't sleep. They're like an army of Napoleons; sleeping for 3 hours a night, invading Europe, and making stacks of beautiful things just so I'll gnash my teeth with envious rage. Not that I'm bitter. No sir, I love craft blogs. Yeop.



But since I can't have my own shiny little craft blog, I'll just post stuff here for now. Here's some earrings I've made. I'm especially psyched about the top pair--they are amethyst briolettes knotted on purple embroidery floss. Not sure you can see too much of them, but so it goes.











The one the bottom is the same style with garnets (its brother kept falling off the screen). The top ones are nice, although you can't see them when they are on. The grey lines are actually wrapped fine-gauge silver. I probably won't make too many more of those, as they take forever.













Guess who came by to supervise my photography.

Jessst one teensy work post. Then I'll stop.

It feels like 80 years since I’ve updated this blog, but too much is happening right now. I’ve applied to 4 new jobs, had 3 interviews, met my new manager M, successfully avoided talking to my old manager, traveled up to Sonoma for a client presentation, made what feels like one billion pieces of jewelry for both my mom’s birthday and my pal L’s birthday, drank to the brink of embarrassing myself at L’s party, redecorated my bedroom including painting and hanging some picture frames, and submitted photos of said bedroom to a interior design contest (the chutzpah!). And that’s all in the last week. I’m pooped.

I know I wasn’t going to write about work, but I do like my new manager. He has a sense of humor and actually seems receptive to people’s ideas. Poor bastard; we'll see how long it takes to wear the shine off of him. I wasn’t intending to tell him anything meaningful when we met today, but he seemed interested in my opinions. So now I’m testing him to see how much he’s willing to hear…

…which, btw, is stupid. On one hand I am seriously burnt out. Just between you and me: some days I can barely summon the will to come to work. (And really, no one cares. I can come in at 11, or noon, or probably fucking not at all ever, and no one cares. And yet, I still get more done than my colleagues in other offices, which is terrifying.) Despite that, here I am telling the new guy that I’m worried about the direction of the group that I am planning to leave. I’m not that altruistic, it’s just that even when I’m dog tired, I’m still a busybody! I’ve been waiting for months for somebody to give even the skinniest crap about my opinions. Give me an inch and I’ll pontificate for miles.

But this highlights the contrast between where I am and how I used to be, which makes me sad. My former manager once said that I needed to do a good job; it was the reason I got out of bed in the morning. At the time he said it, I was flattered but didn’t think it was true. But I think he saw something about my motivations that I hadn’t recognized in myself. Damn, I wish I still reported to him. And I wish I still felt that motivation. He was able to bring that out in everyone who worked with him.

In a related story, one of our high performers has started coming around my office to talk about how unhappy she is. We don’t usually talk, so I was a little surprised that she confided in me. I guess she also thinks tat we are basically in the same situation. Apparently I am not the only one who has been teary and feeling unappreciated. (And I am filled with rage and despair to admit this about myself, as I have always believed it is Totally Retarded to cry about work, and I know she feels the same way.) She might be next to go unless M can save her. But if she goes, hoo boy the office is fucked…

Rambling and Boring to Anyone but Me

Over the last couple of days, I’ve been working on my ginourmous pile of mending. I’m actually very proud of myself right now; I am handier with this than I thought I’d be. I have lost the manual for my machine but discovered that I know exactly what to do despite that (which is, apparently, to sew straight stitches and only straight stitches). Everything I’ve done so far actually looks decent! And it doesn’t take forever either, like it used to. I was such a slow sewer that it actually exceeded my own ceiling on pokiness, which is pretty amazing. But lately I’m just bustin’ it out. During last halftime Monday night I rehemmed a pair of pants, which is especially great because that raises the # of wearable pants in my closet by 33%. Last night I did two more. That's a big whoop-de-doo for me.

I’m thinking about how doing favors for others is like a mitzah for myself as well. Kind of like when people are coming over and it makes you clean your house. I started my mending because I promised to fix a busted tote bag strap for D and B, and there’s no fucking way I’m dragging out my machine and taking the time to get it set up for only one thing. So, their favor becomes my opportunity to do all of that sewing that has been lurking on my to-do list for weeks. (AND now I can blog about procrastinating yet again! See how I come full circle on these things? Now that is buttoned up. Pun intended.)

Tonight will be the last night of just running hems and whatnot through the machine – YEHNEHnehnehneh! – and then after that I have real sewing projects. The only bad thing about losing 60 pounds? None of my clothes fit. I’ve gone through 4 COMPLETE wardrobes (spanning 6 dress sizes, can you believe it?) and I just can’t afford to buy more. Plus I’ve got another 10 pounds to lose, so I refuse to buy any more intermediate clothes until I hit my stopping point. I need to take in a bunch of skirts and tops, which will be a more difficult task, but hopefully do-able. And do something creative with a few things that don’t fit, but I want to transform them. It’s not lack of ideas, it’s just the know-how.

If I do accomplish anything interesting, as opposed to hems, then I might post it on a sister blog. I have this idea to add another blog with my craft projects on it, since I seem to be doing a lot of them lately. But it’s not quite ready for primetime, so stay tuned. And on top of it all, I just talked to my gal S about selling some jewelry. She likes to do paper crafts and make packaging, and can do marketing, so she basically has all of the important skills I lack to make something like that happen. I am intrigued...

Note to self: remember, Glare, you want to write about Spackle Girls soon. Do that.