Benevolent Dictator

Everyone wants to be King. Or, in my case, being female, Queen. We all believe that we have the best solutions, the most insight, the perspective to do it all the right way and still be popular with all the people. Well, you can please all of the people, some of the time and some of the people all of the time but you can't please all of the people, all of the time.

There was a time when I thought I could do an adequate job, being Queen that is. In the process, I ask for the help of one that I considered a friend. But, such a "friendship" proved to be a bad interference when trying to do business. Some of us just aren't good at being, well, grown-ups. We all have our foibles, I can accept that. Trying to win a popularity contest at the expense of anther's good name and reputation just seems all around wrong. Friendship does not preclude one from doing the very best one is capable of at a job. It also would seem that friendship wouldn't preclude one from addressing serious issues when necessary.

When Daisy manned our ship, if the Titanic had a hole, she called the Steady Businessman and let him know the situation and how it was being addressed. I felt that anyone who was qualified to do their job, deserved the same respect of myself, being that I have taken Steady Businessman's position at the shitty little Wave. When I wasn't contacted, I assumed that all was well. Then I got a phone call. All was not well. (I've explain in a previous post, so I won't bore with details)

When put in a position of having to make a decision sometimes one does not have the time to address every opinion to help make such a decision. The long and short of the matter is that when gently confronted with some major safety issues, Chatty Cathy was offended. She was more worried about WHO, said WHAT, than she was about the fact that there were some major safety issues. She was defensive. Her next leap was to take offense that we would confront her at all, because we were supposed to be friends.

I've never been yelled at, not like that. And it was more about how she felt I violated friendship decorum, than how, perhaps, she had made some poor decisions that put the lives of young kids in jeopardy.

The Lovely Lady ultimately decided that being bullied was not what any of us needed, as well as losing sleep over damage that may be done to equipment and lives. And Chatty Cathy was released from her duties. It did not go well. And the after math is a bizarre anomaly of high school antics and games that I didn't know adults could participate so well in. Phone calls to teenagers telling them how to behave towards "us".

MisAdventure is tired. I can't believe the peace I've had since the whole fiasco finally came to an end. Safety was the first concern, but sometimes the peripheral problems are a bigger deal than we would believe. I'm not popular, but then, I never have been. I'm tired of empathizing with ego-centric teens who would rather viligy me. Fine. I'm tired of worrying about how everyone else feels, how the "see", how they perceive the situation. I'm just plain tired of it all. But, for the first time in a year, I really, truly, honestly, don't give a fuck.(That's a good thing...it requires less medication.) It has taken me three days to find the time to put this in a post and now that I'm here, I realize, it really doesn't matter. I'm done.

Boy

I love the work that I've been doing now for the past four months. I work with the most honest, genuine kids that ever graced this earth. Most of them don't have a lot. Some of them, have nothing. Their circumstances are harsh.

Homeless Youth in Salt Lake City often find their way to the Center. On a warm summer night we have about 6-10 youth that come to relax, get something to eat and just socialize. 40% of the homeless youth identify as other than heterosexual. Tonight, I met Byron. (That's not him in the picture & if you are asking if it's a boy or a girl, you just met genderqueer)

He is tall, with dark hair. He has a beautiful face. He's good looking, clean-cut and quiet. Tonight he seemed anxious, desperate even. He approached me after being on the phone and ask if he could make a long distance phone call. I started work on finding him access to a phone that would dial long distance. His frustration seem to mount as he made his phone calls until he was quietly in tears. He needed some where to go and it was getting dark.

We made the usual suggestions and then I learned that he is only 16. He can't go home, it's to dangerous. He is not accepted at home. He can't go to the Homeless Youth Center without notifying his parents because he is under 18. He can't go to Youth Services or call CPS. Each agency will notify his parents. Your asking what the big deal is at this point? He, Byron, doesn't have the right anatomical parts and he repeatedly emphasized that he could die if he went home.

Centers and shelters that could house him will not only have to notify his parents of his whereabouts, but they will separate him by gender...after a strip search. Further endangering his life.

I can't take him home, I can't give him money, I can only stand there, helpless. Byron is a normal, clean-cut 16 year old boy. He could be your next door neighbor. And all I could do was pray that as I sent him into the dark, that he could find a safe place to stay. Clean-cut kids from middle-income families fair the very worst on the streets. They don't know the rules or understand the language. I hope that Byron slept alright.

Omnipresence

I can see you. I can see where you link from. I watch who comes and goes....

Well, I Feel Sheepish

Classic Genie line from the Disney movie Aladdin. And don't I just feel sooooo sheepish. Hang on to your hats, this is long.

So, let's preface this by saying that I have been (and still am) completely delusional and certifiably crazy for the last year. I'm not kidding. Commit me. If you are here reading this then you got an email notifying you that I had to "move", so to speak. And now that unwanted traffic has cleared, we can give you the scoop.

Once upon a time there was a Wave. (It's turned into a fuckin' Tsunami recently, but, we'll get there). Daisy did her best to make it run smooth as butter. She was good at her job. Daisy is quiet and shy and she keeps to herself. We love Daisy.

One day Edith moved into the neighborhood. Edith is very enthusiastic. Edith is friendly and outgoing. (Her kids are a little on the, strange side, but hey, we need those in life.) Edith liked our little Wave so much that she decided to be "the president" of the Wave one year and Edith mistakenly thought that Daisy was unfriendly and grouchy during her reign and with a little to much bitching over a few years Daisy said, see ya' later.

This leaves our cute Lover Boy to winterized our little Wave. So me, Dolly and Lover Boy did our best to shut her down without doing too much damage.

After we shut her down it was MisAdventure's turn to be "the president" of the little Wave. First thing on our agenda? Find someone to captain this little Wave. MisAdventure called a neighbor. Nice lady, needs a job. She's outgoing, chatty and appears relatively competent. (APPEARS, is the operative word here.)

With a few hiccups along the way we got our little Wave up and running with Chatty Cathy. In working together so much Chatty Cathy became a "friend". Friends are people you talk to, confide in and sometimes solicit advice from. MisAdventure has a few friends, (Shocking isn't it) she has five that she regularly shares her life with and they have, what we call in the adult world, disgression. (There's two Mr. Roger's words for the day, folks.) We generally think of disgression as something akin to keeping one's trap clapped. You know, refraining from local broadcasting.

So, MisAdventure had a little mis-adventure along the way, during Chatty Cathy's first year in command. It was stressful boys and girls, to say the least. And we confided in Chatty Cathy about the going's on. Doh! Bad idea.

Fast forward to this year. MisAdventure is standing the restroom of the little Wave and she can hear Chatty Cathy doing what she does best, chatting. She is chatting about the current "president" of our little Wave, the Lovely Lady. MisAdventure doesn't like what is being said, 1) because it's gossip and 2) because it's false, untrue, BULLSHIT. The conversation continues and includes MisAdventure. Conveniently the information is 1) confidential, 2) twisted to be untrue 3) gossip.

In comes my three favorite "horsemen", if you will. Shock, embarrassment and nausea. You know, that horrid sinking feeling when something just isn't right. I decided that I should just ignore it and avoid Chatty Cathy from that point forward. I don't like gossip (unless it seems harmless) and Chatty Cathy EXCELS in gossip. My thought was that I would let her talk to me, correct what she was getting wrong and not offer anything. Then, she started talking about this silly little website. And coming to visit. And sharing with the neighbors. (I think she wants a career in broadcasting.) When the game of telephone began to degrade and shockingly, make me look like a complete ASS, we shut this silly site down and waited.

I thought that would be the end of it. Cathy's problem is that she can't keep her mouth shut and she can't deliver the correct information. She delivers what she thinks you want to hear, what's salacious and what makes her look good. Then I got "the call". The Lovely Lady interrupted the family 4th get away. The gossip about her, the Lovely Lady, had gotten back to her, pissed her off, and was supposedly started by, MisAdventure. Then, she ask me if I knew what was going on at the little Wave. The safety violations, common sense violations, a laundry list WAY TO LONG to list here...broken boilers starting on fire, chlorine dispensers exploding, chlorine chemicals being mixed and giving off gas, lifeguards being asked to go into said gassy room and get tools!!!! When she got to "And she is upset with Lover Boy because she says he doesn't do his job and he has a bad attitude", I stopped her. I was having deja-vu. (I seem to recall a similar incident last year, eh,Sparky?)Someone Cathy didn't like lost their job, conveniently.

The Lovely Lady felt that the safety and money issues were serious enough that we should sit down with Cathy. I got back Sunday night and Monday morning we sat down to talk. Woops.

I don't remember saying very much. Cathy is good at the "four horsemen" of fighting and I did what any individual does, I shut down. The Lovely Lady did her best to hold her own, but, alas, she too, in the end, could only look at me in bewilderment. I left feeling more confused than before we started.

Wednesday morning I took the Offspring up to do "swim lessons". (I'm just having them do laps and work on strokes) Cathy decided that before I left, she wanted to "talk" to me. (Yell, is more like it.) And she felt that this was appropriate to do with patrons, swim teachers and the Offspring standing, watching and listening...on the fricken stairs leading down to the pool deck!!! The Lovely Lady just happen to be there, standing behind me, listening like everyone else. When I got frustrated and chose to leave, Cathy started in on the Lovely Lady and tried to tell her things that I had said, not five minutes previous. I know you'll be shocked to know, she got it wrong and the she was bent when the Lovely Lady pointed it out.

In the car ride home all I could do was fume. Should I call Nellie and tell her to sell my membership, should I resign, should I ever go back? I was flooded with horror when I realized that she had been broadcasting very private converstation we had and the personal information all over the world. Worse, I let her influence my opinion about some very important people, one whom I totally misjudged! (The Lovely Lady tells me I have no choice but to come back. She wants to help the "drama queen", uh, into a new career?)I just want to go back to the days when Edith was upset that we shut down, or Nellie got her jumpers in a twist because so and so came to the pool to much....

And so we come to the fact that I am...INSANE. Crazy, delusional, stupid, pick a word, but I certainly didn't behave like a grown-up, and I feel sheepish. I let this Chatty Cathy sway my opinion. I'm such a dupe. A small consolation is that there are stories coming to the surface about this woman from outside sources. I wish I had listen the first time...eh, Sparky?

...And Growing

First you find a spot..



Then you dig a hole...



Then comes the footings....



Then come forms...



Then comes concrete...



And, with the magic of the Internet....a foundation!!!!

I'm Tired of Being the Grown-up

I'm not sure which I am more tired of, people who can't grow up, or people who have to clean up after those that can't be grow-ups.

I'm pissy and ornery sometimes. I make mistakes and recently I can't seem to keep from sticking my damn foot in my mouth. I'm not sure if I'm surrounded by the oversensitive or if I'm a complete buffoon. I tend to think I'm a buffoon.

But, I'm having to clean up the shit of others that should be more grown-up. It makes me wonder why the Fuck I get involved. I'm under some delusion that I'm making a difference. That's a damn crock.

I've learned in the last week that it really boils down to one thing, people don't give a shit, people want others to butt the fuck out and I take to fucking long to learn a lesson. People don't want others to get involved. They don't want help and they don't want empathy and they sure as fuck don't want a listening ear. They want you do it for cheap and give them the credit or just step aside. I think it's a gender thing. Boys can do it, girls can't. Or maybe it's a Mormon thing, Mormons have cornered the market on Zion, the rest of us need to get on the bus or MOVE. It could be an old thing...I'm old now, so I need to let hipper more up to date people take the wheel.

I ran away to Idaho to pretend that I didn't have a life in Utah. My life came looking for me. Not to mention that some of that life came with me and in an inebriated state, told me off. They say that alcohol is the ultimate truth sirum. Who knows, maybe I had it coming.

So, I get to clean up the shit at the Wave. I know, now, that I should trust no one, with ANY information about ANYTHING. And...I'm lost in world with no sense of humor. I just can't seem to keep from humiliating myself. I found my funny bone, but it's only funny in my little bubble of the world. I'm going back to my sheltered bubble.

I FOUND IT!!

Wait, wait....yes, yes, I did. I found it.

The most mundane of perpetual obligatory pursuits is that of laundry. Dishes and bathroom cleaning rank right up there, but they only require one step. Do it, done. Laundry requires three, do it, fold it, put it away, done. Torturous to say the least. It requires no mental skill of any sort, therefore it is one of those metal jackhammering tasks.

The only rewards of completing laundry, with the exception that your neighbor will thank his lucky stars that you emanate dryer sheet, fresh summer breeze, rather than from under cheese malodorous, is that on occasion you find that happy little green present that was misplaced in a back pocket. Good days bring five dollars, better days bring you ten, and the very best days bring you twenty! Which reduces you to a stupid dance accompanied by the Vonage commercial jingle. Wohoo, wohoohoo. Wohoo, wohoohoo!

So I was recently confronted with Mount Saint Laundry in my basement. Having completed eight weeks of condensed courses at the expense of everything else in my life and the lives of my poor family, I could not ignore the fact that everyone was out of under britches. I did what any self respecting female does, I went to the local Super Mart and stocked up clean briefs. Hey, it bought me two days.

But I digress, I found something. And I liken it to finding twenty dollars in the dryer. What could it possibly be? It's been missing for at least a year. It tends to disappear when my anxiety gets ratcheted up, so at this point, you're thinking, seriously, WTF!

I've made some friends this year at the Wave. Some, unlikely friends. I bitch, frequently, about Edith, Nancy and Nelly. Who'da thunk I'd find some allies. They've not changed one iota. I, changed my perspective. And OOOOOH, what a difference.

It all began with Nelly griping a few weeks ago when the facilities were shut down due to an unfortunate and untimely accident. Some little rug rat, shit in the pool. Nelly was unable to take the kiddies swimming on a Saturday night and she was none to happy. (Who the hell wants to swim in that 90 degree water on a 100 degree day I just don't understand) To make the shitty matter worse, the offending child happen to belong to a family that gave us just a little grief last year. Leave it to Nelly to hint conspiracy. Especially because the perpetrating party wouldn't come clean on their offense. At this point I couldn't help myself. Like I said, it's like that twenty dollar bill...I just started to laugh. Out loud. A wonderful, genuine, laugh like a gift from heaven. Nelly just looked at me for a minute with her signature eyebrow cross, and then a broad grin spread across her face. And SHE laughed.

"Well, I guess it is kind of funny."

This only made me laugh harder. I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. Damn straight girl, it's fucking funny!! And it's contagious. If you've found my little post on my day filled with humiliating blunder, you know that I got in trouble. I've got magical powers. According to Vera I can change your sexual orientation. According to Chatty Cathy, I can influence your deviant behavior without ever setting foot in the Wave. I'm so good at it, I can compel adolescence to strip their clothing and go skinny dipping. Co-ed! Yeah baby!!

A two hour conversation with the Lovely Lady revealed that Chatty Cathy has expressed her disapproval of my "inappropriate" behavior around the teens that work at the wave and my endorsement of "inappropriate" behavior by teens. Even allowing them to come to my house and do "inappropriate" things.

Huh. Reeeaaaallly. Like what? Define "inappropriate". The Lovely Lady chuckled and told me that there were no examples given of "inappropriate", just information given to parents of teens who work at the Wave. It was Chatty Cathy's way of endearing herself as the "guardian" of the kids. She's going to watch out for them so the parents don't have anything to worry about. She'll protect them from evil doing, endorsing me.(customary ROLL of my eyes)

When the parent list included some dear mothers that I call friend, I stopped the conversation. The Lovely Lady told me not to worry. It was one of 1000 things on her list to address with Ms. Cathy. Gossip, is on the top of her list.

Yesterday I decided that I would park my lilly white cheeks at the Wave to study for my mid-term. Ms. Nelly and her sidekick Edith were happy to oblige me a space when one wasn't readily available, due to the immense crowd. Ms. Nelly had a story to tell me. And, she thought I would appreciate it because I am always "inappropriate". (Our new inside joke since she informed me that I'm ALWAYS inappropriate.) I sat down to listen to another of her gripes. Good enough.

She ended her story, telling me that she had approached an offending party and invited them to leave because they were not members and when swimming lessons are over, they need to vacate the pool and the deck. Not sit down and eat lunch while their kids swim and Ms. Cathy watches from the balcony. "Oh, wait, did you tell her this?" Said Edith. "Oh yeah and then....."

You'll never guess what I did....I laughed. Out loud. Hard. For everyone to hear. "If I didn't know better I'd think you two had been saving this story to share.." Nelly stopped, grinned and said "Well yeah, we knew you'd laugh." And I looked her right in the eye and said "Nelly, you have GOT to stop scaring the natives." She laughed! She laughed!!! "We'll get t-shirts," she said "Yours will say "I'm inappropriate", "And yours will say "I scare the Natives", I said.

My funny bone. I forgot that I had one. I used to make light of much of my world and the strangeness that is in it. And somehow in the last two weeks I found it. God help me dig it up and I even gave some to the world. I feel so wonderful. I can't wait to find some more. I'm headed to my little piece of heaven, I wonder what the clean shaven 16 year old at the Ace Hardware is up to? Do you think those STD tests have come in?