Nap Time

I'm beyond exhausted. I just want to lay my head on my desk and close my eyes. Between Thursday and last night, I worked 24 hours at my "real" job and 24 at my seasonal job at the mall. I think I could sell personal care products in my sleep. I'm surprised I didn't ask Casey if she wanted to get a box "for just a dollar more" for her treats this morning when I left for work.

I'm so glad I'm done until after Christmas. I just have to make it two more days at work, then I'm off to Virginia towards the end of the week. I can't wait to take a nap, with both dogs on my lap, in front of the fire. And it's going to be in the 50s this weekend. Who needs snow at Christmas? Not me.

No word on the job front. Though it seems a little premature to be thinking that I would get a phone call. They said they had another interview on Friday -- and hopefully the awful weather we had here Friday morning didn't delay it any.

Year in Review

Got this idea from my niece, who also has a blog. Take the first line, from the first post each month:

April 2005
Search for what? Love? Happines? Peace of mind? The perfect man? The perfect job?

June 2005
One year ago today, I left Baltimore, Charm City, Bawlmer for "10 square miles surrounded by reality" -- Ithaca, NY.

July 2005
I don't know if I'm doing this internet dating thing right.

August 2005
So, I've given up on my month's experiment on Yahoo personals.

September 2005
I love her. She's my mother...

October 2005
It's beyond liking B now.

November 2005
I e-mailed my friend JRK yesterday, about dating -- or lack of ...

December 2005
The PR Goddess could be making a comeback.


Hmmm....hers seemed so much more fun and cohesive. I'm going to take December's first line as a good omen.

The first BIG storm of the year

Snow!
Snow! Snow!
Come out in the snow!
--P.D. Eastman, Dr. Seuss collection

The Interview

I had my second interview today -- in person, with eight people. Sometimes that can be intimidating, but it seemed okay today. They all had written out questions, so there was never that awkward pause of "is someone going to say something?"

I think it went very well....they did ask tough destination marketing, intergrated marketing, web optimization questions...but rather than try to sound like I was bull shitting them, I said I'm not sure if I've heard that term but I would guess it to mean....

I talked a lot about media successes and web marketing. No one had any questions about my sample press release that I had to write for them and then talk them through it (didn't know I would have to do that!!). I did mention that it was a very hard press release to write, that the event was so diverse that it was hard to get my hands around. They all laughed and said, that's why we picked it. Of course it is. I walked them through my thought process in how I wrote what I did, and also my strategies for creating a more complete press kit, who I would send that to, and what I would include in it.

I also brought a DVD of national, regional and local media (TV) clips that I left with them. It has clips on there from the Today Show, Nickelodeon, Comcast Sports Net (mid-Atlantic region) and the San Diego Padres pre-game show. Overall an impressive bunch of clips, if I do say so myself. God, I wish I had the Travel Channel clip. I remember saying stuff in that interview and then was like, "that was great...what did I just say?"

The have one more interview on Friday. When the director walked me out, I mentioned that I would be leaving for Virginia on the 22nd but available by cell phone if needed. And when I wished him a happy holiday, he said "we'll be talking before that." I'll take that as a good sign, but not get overly freaked out if I don't hear from him next week, knowing that things come up.

I also mentioned that I did include a reference from my current job, though not my boss (who he knows, but promised me confidentiality) -- someone who can speak to my web marketing strengths. And I had a great conversation with my former boss last night. He no longer hates me for leaving him -- he just remembers the good times, the times I worked my ass off for him, how much fun we had, and I'm confident that he will give me a great reference.

So...that's that. Glad it's over...it was harder than most interviews, but going by how the phone interview went, it was about what I suspected and I think I did well. And now we wait. And then....and then we talk salary. And negotiate. Which is not something I do well. Money is not my thing. That's why I need a husband to give me an allowance -- but that's a story for another day.

An Unmatched Shoe

Sometimes I don't feel like I belong in my own family. I think it mostly has to do with everyone having a partner, or belonging to a unit. This becomes more and more apparent to me at the holidays, when all my local family members gather at one sister's house. And while of course having a husband or significant other would solve the problem -- it's not the only thing that would.

Everyone seems to be matched with someone or someones. My oldest sister has her husband, and/or her daughters. Her daughters have each other. My other sister, whose house we gather at, has her husband and her daughter. And that daughter -- that daughter used to be my partner, used to be my matching shoe -- has her husband and son. And on and on with my brother and his wife and two kids.

When I first moved back to New York, it was sometimes so hard to go to Syracuse and spend time with my niece and her baby. We're so close in age, and we've always pretty much wanted the same thing personally -- husband, baby, family. When I first came home, and saw her with all of it, it was hard. Sometimes too hard. Sometimes I would find myself crying all the way back to Ithaca, feeling an empty part of my heart, wondering what I did in a past life to not deserve having it all, too.

And so rather than deal with that, deal with that unmatched shoe feeling, I've decided to take myself out of that situation. Out of feeling lost at the holidays. And I'm going to Richmond for Christmas. Part of me -- the PMS-y, feeling sorry for myself, over-tired part of me -- wonders if anyone really cares that I won't be in Syracuse. If they'll even miss me. And of course they will -- it would just be nice to hear, I guess.

My 2006 Outlook

I take horoscopes with a grain of salt. If they say something good, I am hopeful. If they say something bad, I shrug it off. Either way, I wll always read my horoscope on my birthday and in magazines, especially the "year forecast" in the January issues.

The highlights from my Marie Claire horoscope for 2006:

Aries excels at creating order out of chaos -- exactly your destiny for 2006! Because you're famous for being so positive and outgoing, feeling discouraged takes you by surprise. This year, your Aries courage will return, and your resilience will be proven. At the end of March, a rare solar eclipse will make you feel like you've been shot from a cannon -- instantly removed from everything familiar and speeding toward an exciting opportunity.

Your love life: You're a woman with abundant gifts -- a sense of humor, a healthy sexuality and a generous heart -- yet many have taken the best you had to give and not fulfilled your needs in return. This year, Saturn will free you of a tumultuous entanglement, then bring security and commitment within reach.

What to change in 2006: What you most enjoy is the exhilarating buzz of creative work. But for your projects to succeed, you need to tend to all details -- not just the fun, exciting ones.

For January...love: In an important relationship, you must bravely ask a lover to take responsibility. You rely on the honesty and intimacy you share with him, so it will be worth everything to strengthen that bond.

Work: Careerwise, Mercury will bring a long-shot goal within reach. Spend more time on original, challenging endeavors. You can also demand top billing. No one will turn you down!


It sounds promising -- we'll see what becomes of the next year.

December 8

Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too

Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

Have you hugged a veteran today?

I don't usually write about stuff like this. But I couldn't let today go by without saying outloud, even if I have no WWII veteran in my life, thank you.

Before I left Baltimore, I went to the WWII memorial in Washington. It was the weekend before its official opening, and there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of veterans walking around. Some acting like old college buddies, hugging and getting their pictures taken. But others, very solemn, perhaps remembering those who couldn't be there with them for the opening. I was glad that I had sunglasses on, so that no one could see my tears.

It was moving and touching, and I was glad that I was able to experience it. There was one veteran, in a wheelchair, looking at one of the stone tableaus. He looked at me, and I said simply, "thank you."

He smiled and grabbed my hand, and said, "no, thank you."

Thank you for what? Who knows? I was too choked up to ask. Maybe thank you for saying thank you, thank you for being appreciative, thank you for being in my generation and wanting to reflect at this memorial...or maybe just thank you for not overlooking him.

I don't know. And honestly, I don't need to know. If you have a veteran in your life, a veteran of any war, don't just say thank you on Veterans Day. They fought hard every day -- still fight hard every day -- they deserve to be appreciated more than just once a year.

And so on today's anniversary, it gives me pause to stop and think. And say thank you.

Flip a coin

I spent the last two days in computer training. Two days that I really didn't need to be involved in. It was all very technical, all very "over my head," and all very "not what I will be working on." I'm so glad its over. Suddenly, I've gotten very busy at work. And suddenly -- or maybe not so suddenly -- I am very fed up with most of my clients, one of whom now thinks he's a designer. He took the first proof of a postcard and recreated three designs in Photoshop.

Wouldn't it be nice to think that I have the next two days in the office, that they could be relatively quiet and allow me to catch up on some things? Yea, it would be nice. But it's not going to happen. The consultant, from a couple months ago, will be back with her report. First she is meeting with each of us individually or in small groups. The whole group will also meet with her for an hour tomorrow. Then on Friday, we have a retreat from 9 to 1.

What waste of two days. There are factions of co-workers who have gone behind my boss's back, who have talked to the vice president about things. It's all very political, it's all very shady, and the phone call for a second interview couldn't have come at a better time.

When I got home from the gym tonight, I had a message waiting. Second interview with the staff next Wednesday, and he would like me to write a sample press release and about the Lights in Winter Festival. It's been over a year since I've written a press release, but I've got time to work on it.

So the next question is, who do I use as references? The obvious choice, for what this job entails, would be my former boss. But has he forgiven me enough for "leaving him" to give me the glowing recommendation that I deserve? I might have to just call him this weekend and see. I have seen him, and I have recently communicated with him by e-mail. I just have to make sure that Bitch-stine doesn't get involved.

So there's one. J of Baltimore would be two -- not only is his title and company impressive -- but he would be able to speak to my organizational and event planning skills. And then I was thinking of asking B. I trust him to keep my confidence. And he would be able to speak to my web skills -- not counting the last two boring days -- my ability to re-architect sites and work with existing content.

And so I find myself at a crossroads, once again. Two sides of the same coin with my career, and who knows which side I'll end up with. I can only hope -- and try to believe -- that no matter what happens, either at the school or the CVB, that it's what is supposed to happen.

B is for Boob

I had my annual mammogram this morning. I have a lump, that my doctor in Baltimore found almost two years ago. Rounds of doctors, jags of crying, trips to the radiologist, thoughts of cancer -- and it turned out to be a cyst. But something that needs to be checked every six months. So I see my doctor twice a year, and get my "girls" squeezed once a year.

My doctor in Ithaca, perhaps being very perceptive to my neurotic personality, told me not to do self breast exams. That it would only make me worry, and that he would be checking them every six months. Probably a good thing. When the lump was first found, I checked my breasts every morning before I got out of bed, rather than the once a month that is recommended. Sort of goes along with the whole weighing myself twice a day thing.

But back to the mammogram...Can you imagine (ok guys, I know you can) mammographer for a job? Nothing but handling boobs -- literally -- all day long. And I realize that there is nothing sexual about it...at all. But really....I almost starting laughing at the absurdity of it, when the technician was adjusting one of the "girls" and literally slapped the other one off the film board.

When you think about it, the whole experience is rather bizarre. You go into a private dressing room, take off all your clothes from the waist up and put on a hospital gown, and then go sit in a private waiting room. With other women. Who are dressed the same way. Dress pants or jeans, and a hospital gown, opening in front, tied at the side. And you read magazines or make small talk, as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

And then you go into the radiology room and you stand in front of a big machine with a small platform. The technician adjusts it so the platform is at your chest. Then because gravity does take over, she hoists your breast onto the platform, molding it in the way she wants it to lay and then holding it in place while another platform comes from the top, essentially squeezing it as flat as it can go. Hold your breath, don't move, and click, the Kodak film has an image of the inside your breast. Now let's do the other one.

I'll go to my doctor next week. He'll have seen the films, and he'll do an exam, and tell me I'm fine. He'll ask if I'm okay with everything, if I'm worried about anything -- and I'll ask him the same thing I always ask. "If I was your wife, would you suggest she be treating this any differently?" And he'll say no, and I'll tell him I trust him. And that's that for six more months.

Ithaca is Gorges!

The phone call went well. Very well.

I'm confident that I will get a second interview. In fact, he basically said that he would be calling me at the end of the week or early next week to set up a second interview next week. Ideally, he would want to make an offer before the end of the year (Merry Christmas!) and have the person start in January.

It would be a great job. I would actually be "doing" things, rather than pushing projects from this person to this person, rather than having meetings to talk about how busy everyone is, rather than dealing with the office politics of a college campus. I would dealing with the media again, creating long-range marketing and advertising plans, holding press conferences and writing press releases.

So what's the down side? Because, of course, there is a down side. And it is what it always comes down to -- money.

He did quote me a salary range -- that would be in the range of $8-10,00 less than I currently make. I asked if the salary was negotiable. He said that he wouldn't want to weed out a potential candidate over a dollar sign, so yes, he would be willing to sit down and negotiate.

That sounds promising enough, but I already have debt that I am paying off, from taking a job that sounded great, but didn't pay that well. A job that I stuck with for five years, waiting for the pay-off -- all the while, sometimes needing to pay for groceries on my credit card.

I don't need to be making more than I make now. I just really can't make less. Or I'll never be able to buy a house and have a baby, which are the goals. And perfectly possible under the current budget.

Monday, Monday

2pm.

Everyone think good thoughts for me. Please.

He Called.

The PR Goddess could be making a comeback.

I have to call him back tomorrow to set something up for Monday or next Friday.

Fingers crossed.

Why, oh why, hasn't he called?

I'm waiting for a phone call.

And I jump every time my phone rings with its distinct "outside call" ring.

I got an e-mail last week and this person said he would call me sometime this week, to set something up for next week.

He hasn't called yet.

I hesitate to elaborate because I'm such a superstitious person. I don't want to jinx myself.

Sometimes. I. Really. Hate. My. Job.

Deep breath.

I was given the task of working with student affairs on a website showcasing the college's diversity initiatives. No one wanted to take ownership. No one wanted our office to get involved. No one felt the need that the design, production, writing or editing go through our office. So I went off, hired an outside vendor, worked with the client to work on copy. I shared the slow progress in update meetings. The site is almost ready to be launched. Now...people want to have an opinion. Now they feel the need that we bring in focus groups about the actual need for this site, which by the way was a need the president felt.

I just want the damned thing up and launched. You didn't want to get involved three months ago. You don't get a vote now.

Then...I just spent an hour, in a meeting, listening to people bitch about our boss, bitch about the way our office is run, bitch about how they are going into our office retreat next week "fearless," and ready to unload all their frustrations with the system, our boss, etc.

Calgon...take me away.

J, of Baltimore fame, Part 2

Ellie wrote:
Hey, How was your Thanksgiving? I had my parents' anniversary party on the 19th --and it was a huge success (would you expect anything less with me planning it?) And the Cal picture went over big, as well. My father's exact words after I made the presentation: "that's going in the living room." I've attached a couple pics (me, my brother & dad; and me reading the inscription). Hope all is well....I'll let you know the next time I'm driving through. Talk to you soon, Ellie

J:
Very cool...I am so glad it was a big hit. Sorry about the screw up last time you were in town...next time, I owe you!

Ellie:
Not a problem. And by the way, I send you a picture of me looking stunning in a dress that showcases my best asset and you say nothing?! So hurt...


J:
Why do you think I was eagerly mentioning your next visit to Baltimore!!!!

Ellie:
Aahh...I will actually be driving through right before Christmas, probably on the 22nd. But you'll probably be in NJ, right?

J:
Not until the 23rd...yippee!

Ellie:
Cool! Schedule me in...I'll let you know what time I should be through, but I'm guessing mid-day, early afternoon.

J:
Good, bring the dress.

Ellie:
Sweetheart, we won't need the dress!

J:
Outstanding answer!

I've Awoken the Sleeping Giant

Chris called today. Not entirely out of the blue, I guess. I've opened the door and he's walking through. He asked me if he "scratched my itch."

He's so cocky, I felt I needed to knock him down a little. "I guess so."

He pretended to be wounded, and I didn't respond. I launched into how I actually had to buy something with my own money at Old Navy this weekend (he still owes me a gift card for doing his invitations last month) and stories of the great success of the anniversary party and how I was the "belle of the ball," garnering lots of attention at the new me.

He was happy that it went so well and that I had a good time. And then he tried to subtly move into the entire reason for his call. "I should be in Ithaca again in December. Should I plan to stop by?"

I know what everyone is hoping the answer will be. I hate to disappoint, but I said okay. On my defense, I do have a busy month (mammogram, two full days of computer training, going to Syracuse to watch the baby for one full day, a department retreat, the campus holiday party, the building holiday party, and of course, not to mention actual work). I really can't see how I could possibly squeeze in a visit. We'll see.

An Interesting Development...

...though I'm not sure what, if anything, it means. My friend Dayna, at work, is having her annual holiday party. I got an e-mail from her husband this morning with the invite. Before I could RSVP to his e-mail, she e-mailed me to find out if I am coming. I told her yes.

Then a couple hours later, I got an e-mail from her friend Gary -- the guy that she knew that happened across my picture on match.com, we had a nice telephone conversation and then one week later, he was "seriously involved" with someone else, and that was that (see "The Window Closed," 9/15/05).

Anyway, back to Gary...I got an e-mail from him:

Subject line: Hi Ellie -- from Dayna's friend Gary
Just wanted to drop you a note and say hi and see how your Thanksgiving went with your big family. Also hopefully you'll be able to attend Andy and Dayna's Christmas Party on the 10th. Look forward to seeing you there, Gary

Have I been burned so many times that I'm completely suspicious about this note dropping out of the blue? Am I nuts to be so cynical about this? To think that it wasn't written in the spirit it was intended? And if that's the case, what was the spirit it was intended? What is his ulterior motive?

I guess I won't find out until the 10th at Dayna's house. In the meantime, I truly don't know how to respond to his e-mail. Or if I should at all.

Stay Gold, Ponyboy

I woke up early again on Saturday -- too early. But again, I was in event mode. Finally, I got out of bed about 7:30 and went to the hotel gym. My brother joined me 15 minutes later. We worked out for about an hour. I knew that by the middle of the day (before my adrenaline and second wind kicked in, I would be thoroughly exhausted).

After breakfast with my sister and brother-in-law from California and my brother and sister-in-law from Alaska, Tiffany and I killed time at the mall before our hair appointment. By the time we got back to the hotel, my parents were there as well and Jenny and the baby. It was hurry up and wait time again. We wouldn't be able to get into the room to decorate until after 5.

My hair was done. My make-up was done. I would just need to throw my dress on at the last minute. My sister arrived with two car-loads of decorations around 5. We walked down to the banquet room and saw that it was nowhere close to being ready for us. Panic set in just a little. We set to work about 5:30 -- swags on the walls, bows on the centerpieces, setting up the placecards, the easal, the cake and gift tables, making sure the TV and VCR worked, and hiding the boxes and bags that we carried everything in.

I ran down to the hotel room at 5:55. Reuben and Tiffany followed me. Tiffany ran interference while my brother and I changed, backs to each other. It was so late that I didn't even care. grabbed my purse and back down to the room. At this point, everyone was gathering. I had told them all to be ready and in the lobby by 6 for pictures, hadn't I?

My mother had told me the day before that Sue and Frank would be there between 6 and 6:30. I tried not to let it bother me. And at this point, I was happy for the delay. My father kept calling me the "cruise director" and asking me what I needed him to do. I herded everyone into the lobby. Sue wasn't there yet and Sammi was still getting dressed, having put the finishing touches on the room.

I yelled for the grandchildren on the stairs. And the papparazzi took over. Flash, flash, flash. Then add Dan and Ryan. More flashes went off. Brenna and Erin (my god-sisters). Flash, flash. Throw my parents in the picture. Sue and Frank arrived -- I grabbed Angie and made her go with me to say hello to them. Frank's mother was pleasant enough. Frank said, "hi Ellie," (the only words he would speak to me the entire evening). And my sister nodded hello. Deep breath.

When Sammi got down to the lobby, we took pictures of the eight kids. We added my parents. More flashes than I could count, and who knew where to look?! Then the fun -- the entire family, on the stairs. It was crazy. I knew no one would listen to me. Organized chaos, at best. They piled on the stairs in their own order. Brenna and Erin and the priest took pictures. Then just the priest. And then he joined in the picture and an innocent bystander took a picture. Ok, time to party.

My sister Kathy, who brought the sound system, and I walked down to the room to make sure they were ready for us. It was about 6:45. We started the music and I ran back to the lobby with a quick arm sweep.

My parents were in all their glory. They stod by the door and greeted everyone as they arrived. There was some last-minute tabling shuffling -- my aunt sat with my sister's mother-in-law. My mom wanted the priest at their table. No problem.

Sue came up to me while I was getting a beer. "You need to get some rolls on the table. Frank (who is a diabetic) can't wait until dinner. This is ridiculous. Tell somebody." It wasn't the fact that she was asking me -- well in fact, she wasn't asking, she was telling -- it was her tone. Like, "I found a flaw in your party -- fix it."

I asked the banquet manager for a basket of bread for table 1. It actually worked out well -- Jenny was able to get Ryan to sit for a little while and have something to eat. I had given out most of the refund money (I hadn't needed to use all $350 from each person) the night before or during the day. I gave Kathy hers and told her that there was an extra $100 in there for the video production. She was very thankful. I knew that she had paid her production man out of her own pocket, but we had only budgeted a certain amount. With some extra money left over, I was able to give her more for it.

I went over to Sue. "Here's $30 -- I didn't use all the money. So I was able to give everyone some money back." Do you think I could have gotten a thank you? Nope. "Oh, okay. Good." Oh, okay. Good? What kind of shit response is that?! UGH!!!

At the end of cocktails, my brother Mike gave a toast. Kathy introduced each of the family members. And then Father Ahern came up with my parents. He asked the eight of us to join them -- girls on one side, boys on the other. We stood in brith order, which means I had to stand next to Sue. But I looked fabulous on the end.

And then we ate. After dinner, my niece and nephew recited the Irish blessing. Reuben told a funny family story and gave out silly t-shirts to my dad and brothers. I followed with my present, which I hoped garnered some ooh's and aah's. I was too focused on my parents and not tripping over my words to notice.

I said something like, "everyone who knows me knows that I love baseball. So of course my present is baseball related. I have here a picture of my brother's (look towards Bob) favorite baseball player. It is inscribed with the following -- Dick and Fran, congratulations on 18,263 consecutive days of marriage. Cal Ripken Jr. 11-19-05"

My father loved it. When I handed to him, he said, "this is going in the living room." Mission accomplished.

Angie sang next. "Sentimental Journey" -- very appropriate. And sung beautifully. And with her mother's knack for filling dead air (the musical interlude) with self-deprecating humor. Erica danced. An Irish jig. I love to watch her dance. And then the finale -- the video. Six minutes and 42 seconds of family photos. Forty hours of production time on Kathy's part. It was a hit!

The evening went too fast -- I managed to talk to everyone at least once. Though it didn't feel like more than simple catch-ups and how great my parents are (which they are). I also got a lot of "you look great's." That felt good. And I managed to not get cold, even though I was practically naked from the waist up, until the evening was almost over. I wore Reuben's suit jacket for a while.

It was an amazing night. I know that my parents had a wonderful time. They were absolutely beaming. I was so busy -- keeping things on track or just simply enjoying myself, I didn't even miss the fact that B was supposed to be there.

I wondered this morning when I got to work if he would ask about it. In fact, I thought that I would be pretty disappointed in him if he didn't. We were both on IM all day. Not a peep out of him. I had a meeting with one of the deans in the afternoon -- and even he asked if the party was a success. And then a meeting with B at 4. Nada. What a boy!

But I won't let him ruin my memories -- so much fun with my family. And what made it special was that everyone was there. Not just the siblings, but there spouses and kids. The last time that happened, Tiffany and I figured out was Christmas 1990. The last time the siblings were together -- and I have a picture of the eight of us in my office -- was when my grandmother died in 1994. But when the out-of-towners came home, the didn't bring their spouses or kids.

So to have all eight kids, and their seven spouses, and all eight grandchildren, plus one spouse and great-grandchild; the local in-laws -- three mothers-in-law and a father-in-law; two godchildren; and my dad's sister was probably a once-in-a-lifetime event.

A Success!

The party was amazing and wonderful and everyone had a great time. And I'm exhausted.

I'll update later in the day.