Heart's Blood

AUGH NO MY NOBLE SCROTUM!!!

Sun, 06 Dec 2009 21:39:14 GMT

Re Subject Line: Yeah, spent a bit too much time on Cracked.com last week. How ever can you tell?

I mean to update on Wednesday, but didn't get around to it, as I was suffering from the dreaded Victorian Novel Disease (warning: link to TVTropes). Here's the bit I did manage to write:

So I'm sick. Again. And have laryngitis. Again. But today wasn't a good day to call out of work, so here I am. Apparently, TPTB are telling me never ever ever to go on vacation around three-year-old boys. And no, I wasn't referring to Brian. :B Also, I tend to do weird things when I'm home sick… like move furniture. This has happened on multiple occasions. And while there really is furniture at home that needs to be moved, I know I shouldn't be doing it while I'm not feeling well.

And if I'd stayed home, I would have missed seeing my boss walking around the office with a wooden Inbox on her head.

That last? Not even kidding. The Captain is one of the best State bosses I've ever had, because she fully realizes how utterly ridiculous is our existance. Also, she constantly quotes Kurt Vonnegut. (And the three-year-old boy in question is Brian's nephew James. Very cute. Very hyper. Loves K-9. I approve.)

Stayed home on Thursday, went to work Friday. It's now Sunday. My voice is back, I can (mostly) breathe, the world outside is white, and I'm caught up on my gift-wrapping. Yay! Not so much caught up on answering emails and LJ messages. Eep!

I'm about half-way through clearing out my office to make way for kilinka, who's moving in on the 17th. I'm not sure when I developed a compulsive need to help people running away from home—first Brian, now Danielle—but we needs must help who and where we can, and I think helping someone escape from Las Vegas is a deed that needs no justification. Also, she's my primary illustrator, so it's just easier to have her in the neighborhood.

Speaking of things that are tangentally related to illustrating, I've updated The Unmentionables page of my website, www.aprilfrench.net, with a new ~~PDF file~~ feature Ever wonder what the hell I'm talking about when I say "The Unmentionables"? Surprisingly, I'm not talking about ladies' underwear.

The first of the Decemberween parties is this weekend. I am looking forward to a visit from ~~BFF Nella~~ ~~Agent Anachronism~~ ink_n_imp with great anticipation. Or do I mean trepidation?

x-posted from kickshaws

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 14:19:13 GMT

Happy Early Decemberween, everyone: http://www.aprilfrench.net

Yup, finally got off my butt and finished the thing. *is proud of little self*

What's There Right Now

• A delightful homepage.
• A riveting Bio page.
• The Unmentionables: Summaries of upcoming stories and an excerpt from the first story, "Lucian's Cabinet," available in Janunary.
• Other Sundries: 2 stories in PDF format for free download ("Oddities" and "Patience," which are also available here) as well as a link to my antique print novella, Egg of the Damned. There are also some summaries for upcoming projects.
• Samples of kilinka's artwork for some future projects.
• Links to other intriguing and special writing and art/comic sites.

What Will Be There Soon

Many more stories! Containing never-before-seen words, writ most excellently by me! For sale, even!

Don't forget to follow me on Twitter (afwkickshaws)!

***

I had a pretty nice Thanksgiving, all in all. Brian's 3-year-old nephew obligingly gave me his cold, and I retaliated by introducing him to Classic!Who. He's now in love with K-9. (He started off calling him "Affirmative Dog," which then morphed into "Terminator Dog," which I guess is still appropriate.)

Allow me to elucidate how very much last week sucked.

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 00:14:22 GMT

Monday: Writer's block and nothing to do in the office; lots of boredom-induced headaches.

Over the weekend, I finished a 30-page story for The Unmentionables, the gaslight-gallows series of short fiction that I've been working on (I'll be doing an explanatory post on the series soon, I promise). It's the 3rd story in the series, and this one was not only the longest and most complex, it also took the least amount of time (about three weeks from start to finish, compared with 11 months for the second story and roughly five years for the first one). IT DRAINED ME OF ALL WILL TO LIVE. However, in spite of my body and my brain telling me to take a week off and recharge the energy banks, I still tried to write something during my biweekly Nothing Monday. And failed. EPICALLY.

Tuesday-Thursday
Personal misunderstandings (TOTALLY MY FAULT) and fallout; lots of crying-induced headaches.

No point in going into this. It's over, it's done with. Suffice to say I had three days of utter emoness, misery, and unexpectedly dissolving into floods of tears at random moments. Also, I think it was in this lump of days that Zen (my wee blue Acer) decided to mysteriously die. We suspect CPU fan issues ~~that are totally, totally unrelated to me knocking it off a table. Totally~~.

Friday (the 13th, incidentally)
Phone coverage in the main Communications office and then got rear-ended on the highway on the way home; lots of moron-induced headaches.

The day itself? Wasn't that bad, actually. The phones were a lot quieter than I'd expected and I did actually get some writing done. I just hate being upstairs because the spare desk has no back and I have a neurosis about people walking up behind me or being in my blind spots.

And the car accident... wasn't, really. It was rush-hour, every else was slowing down, just that the dude behind me didn't slow down fast enough. He gave me a jolt and took the paint off the rear bumper. Then he drove off. Douche. But it could've been a helluva lot worse, as he was driving a mini-monster truck

So yeah, last week was entirely comprised of thirteenth-ness.

This week has been marginally better, I suppose. I had Monday off, and cooked and baked all day. Om nom apple pie/applesauce/potato soup/homemade rye bread nom. Tuesday, though...

I work in the graphic design unit as a professional gopher. My actual title is "Administrative Assistant," but I prefer 'Professional Gopher,' or perhaps 'Spare Set of Hands.' I proof-read and I run copies--occasionally tedious and boring, but at least I'm absolved of the clerical side of things. I do a lot of printing.

When I came in on Tuesday, I had a POUS (Print Order of Unusual Size), amounting to over 17,000 copies, many of them larger than 8"x11". And it had to be filled by Friday. And because Gov. Paterson has demanded that NYS offices make ~~really stupid~~ budget cuts ~~that don't do a goddamn thing~~, I was running out of toner. And paper.

Well, I did it. Even with a dentist appointment that just skirted the edge of root canal and more Novocaine than any human should be able to withstand without losing all motor function, I did it. In the end, I went through 6 toner cartridges and a total of 20,000 sheets of paper (due to miscommunication about which publications were needed). I feel like I need to make a donation to Save the Rainforest or something.

So my jaw hurts, I haven't written anything in nearly two weeks, and I've helped contribute to the continuing deforestation of the planet. Smegging lovely.

Also, today is my husband l_loire's 24th birthday... HAPPY BIRFDAY! *glomps*

Y HALO THAR UNITED NATIONS!

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 13:16:58 GMT

Oy, Nostalgia Chick fans! Guess what?!!?!? BFF Nella's got her own review show!

Agent Anachronism from E.V.E.N. reporting for duty! For reasons too dark and time-consuming to mention here (and inspired by my work with the Nostalgia Chick over at That Guy With the Glasses), it is my job to debrief you on the cultural entertainment and phenomena of the Retro Age (i.e. 1950-1975).

My first mission: An overview of the hit 1960's spy show, "The Man from U.N.C.L.E."!

Part One:

Part Two:

Feedback--as ever--is appreciated, and is considered to be a vital tool in the fight against the O.D.D.

http://agentanachronism.dreamwidth.org/

http://twitter.com/Nellachronism

(I got to preview this thing in post-production, and lemme tell ya: It's good!)

What!? Pumpkin!? Buh? Pumpkin!? What!? What!? What!? Pumpkin?! What?

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 13:30:39 GMT

EDIT: Thanks to a donated token, the writing journal has now been renamed kickshaws. To the donator: THANK YOU!!!!!

This is a Public Service Announcement. I would like to—

Goddamnit, why is it that whenever I decide to stop doing something or take something down, the universe invariably throws it up into my face that I really shouldn't?

I finally make up my mind to take down everything I've got stored over at FF.net, and then I find reviews in my email begging me to finish the giant V for Vendetta story that I abandoned years ago (it's not going to get finished, but I think by now all you V fans have learned to love me for myself). I decide to delete my fanfic LJ, and the next damn day a friend mentions that journal on a comm, potentially driving traffic to a collection that's only going to be there for another couple of months, tops.

*grumble* Feckin' universe...

Anyway, yes, this is a PSA, letting everyone know that I'll be deleting both my FF.net account and my fanfic journal graphiteslog sometime within the next two months, preparatory to opening my new website.

The new site will be my professional homepage. I'll be offering monthly short stories for PDF download from Lulu.com (it looks like they'll be costing about two bucks per download), the occasional longer piece, and some freebies. There will also be news and artwork from my upcoming projects. The site should go live sometime in December, with downloads to begin in January 2010. I hope to see you all there!

My writing journal will remain active. I do use the thing, after all. However, it may be undergoing a name change in the near future, something a little less project-specific, but that'll have to wait until I've got the $15 for a name change. (If anyone would like to donate a name change token, I will not object. I have no pride whatsoever.)

I'm not doing anything special for Halloween, but in honour of the modern version of the holiday, here's a gift from the vaults: from the dawn of horror hosts, I present to you Zacherley: The Cool Ghoul. Happy Halloween!

Survey says...

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 19:22:56 GMT

I'm currently researching self-publishing options with an eye to putting up some stuff for sale in January of 2010, and I'm curious as to who here would actually be willing to pay money to read something that I wrote. Please comment below with your responses.

Please note: arclayn, 6wolves1spirit, giftofgalliard, l_loire and kilinka do NOT need to respond to this post. I already know what your answers are. ;)

This is my favorite comic strip of all time!

Mon, 19 Oct 2009 01:22:43 GMT

Robots + Nathanial Hawthorne references = LOVE!

Questionable Content: Nathanial Hawthorne

Blatantly crossposted from memoryofixion cuz I'm tired and hungry.

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 12:39:24 GMT

Woke up at 6 am this morning in the dark and in the cold thank you very much Real Job. Opened my email and thought, "Oh, an email from Scribophile (a really awesome and helpful online writing/critiquing site that all budding writer-type people should give a try). I bet they're telling me who won the Computer Love Contest that I entered last month. Oh, and they sent me a gift as a consolation prize for not winning, that's sweet of them." So without actually bothering to open the emails, I go over to Scribophile and WHAT THE F@#% I WON THIRD PLACE?! With all those other so much better entries to chose from, my crappy little contribution about gay human/robot love won third place? Holy hell.

But it r trufax:

3rd place: Patience by April French
An incredibly tender love story with excellent characterization and dialog. The quiet emotional power of this piece really stuck with us, and April managed to make the characters extremely believable and relatable in just 3000 words.

And the prize they sent me? This wee bronze trophy.

Ain't it cute?

So in honor of my small win, and in thanks to the gods of Internet who make all things possible, here's the story (you can also read it at Scribophile; no need to have an account).

(Tero had never wanted a robot partner. He'd also never asked what the robot wanted. )

Thoughts, comments, flowers, chocolates... promises you don't intend to keep... Please to be leaving. :)

A facility for quotation covers the absence of original thought.

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 23:17:24 GMT

Today began as one of those "I shoulda stood in bed" days. Had a horrible dream last night, woke up every hour on the hour from 11 pm to 6 am, left the apartment without eating breakfast, put up with the pissy husband on the way to work (he was cold, tired and hungry--I swear, he's worse than a teething infant sometimes), forgot my wallet, and then was 45 minutes late because there was a crack-up on the ramp into the toll plaza (right by the landfill. There should really be a sign there: "Welcome to Albany, capital of New York State. PEW.").

But after that, the day wasn't so bad. My boss is on vacation til Monday, and I've pretty much finished all the work she left me. Since I'm basically her assistant and no one else uses me unless they need printing done, I had a lot of free time on my hands. Updated the writing LJ again, and got a nice shout-out about the linkspam from blythechild (thanks Blythe!), so I spent part of the day following the comments to her entry and answering the ones to mine. The rest was spent ripping CDs. Might as well take advantage of the lull while I can, things will probably hit the fan when The Captain gets back.

Also, this year is beginning to remind me of the 'seasons' segment of Monty Python and The Holy Grail: "...winter changed into spring, spring changed into summer, summer changed back into winter, and winter gave spring and summer a miss and went straight on into autumn." Yeah, that. We had about 2 weeks of summer, then suddenly it was fall over night, and now we've just been handed two 35 degree days. And it's only mid-October. What the hell? Of course, I know what this means will be next...

Locusts.

Row, row, row...

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 13:43:37 GMT

For those of you playing the home game, kickshaws is my more or less professional LJ, where I blog about writing-related woes, current projects, and other sundries. Yes, it's true: I'm a writer.

Me: "Hi, my name is April, and I'm a writer."
Internets: "Hi, April."

So please friend my writing journal, follow me on Twitter ('afwkickshaws' for the important writing stuff, 'kiwimouse' for the day-to-day nonsense), comment and whatnot, and in the tradition of the great Best Brains, "keep circulating the tapes." (Last night's status post here.)

This morning's post is on the subject of curvy girls and comic books, of which I am one. A curvy girl, that is. If I was a comic book, there would be a pointy-ear blue-skinned mutant in my future. Alas.

It says something about society at large that even a large woman like me has to do a double-take when she sees a comic book character who's not skinny in spandex.

...Pass this post around. Cross-post, retweet, whatever. Add your own perspectives, whether they be on comic books, on curvy women, or on beauty. For my part, I feel better about my chubby robot already.

This is a hot-potato sort of topic, and I know plenty of other people have blogged about it, particularly the fantastic person whose name escapes me over at Girls Read Comics, but that's no excuse for me to keep my mouth shut. If you have something to say on this topic, say it! Link people to the original post, cross-post, retweet, keep the ball rolling, keep the talk talking.

"Sunday bowling ends in 20 minutes." "Brian, it's Tuesday."

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 20:39:26 GMT

So, I'm all married an' stuff now. In fact, I've been married for 1 week, 2 days and 23-1/2 hours. Not that I'm keeping track or anything.

It was (cliche in 3... 2... 1...) a lovely ceremony--and short. Brian and I got exactly what we wanted, a non-religious ceremony that was personal and touching and wrenched tears from everybody's eyes. And we got our handfasting! (And for those in the know, yes, I did eventually find shoes.) Then there were pictures and dinner and dessert and more dessert and talking until midnight. Our families got along smashingly (my dad and Brian's step-father are totally BFFs now), my cake was delish, we were showered with money, all was well and all was well and all manner of things were well. Except...

One of the gifts I got from my father (via my godfather) was a virulent head-cold that laid me low for nearly a week, hence this belated post. That, combined with Brian's Atlas-like workload from school, conspired to nix our annual Columbus Day trip to Cape Cod, which was sad-making. But we still got a four-day weekend. No complaints there.

Me. In a dress. And with little flowers in my hair. Dear God.

The happy couple, pre-ceremony. The green thing on my lapel was my wedding gift from Brian, the leaf brooch from the Lord of the Rings movies.

The happy couple, ceremony-in-progress. Brian looks like he's just had a good hit off a bong, I just look like I want to run and hide. I think I did.

Brian, the die-hard Red Sox fan, opening a gift from my great-aunt, a die-hard Yankee fan. He's still thinking about burning that shirt.

Cutting the cake, Attempt #1

Cutting the cake, Attempt #2 (I think I look far more evil in this pic than in the other one.)

What a lovely cake... er, couple!

Apologies for the crappy picture quality; the photographer was kinda the one getting married.

Last but somewhat more than least, kickshaws has been updated. Read, digest, comment.

Because we need more comms like this...

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 13:07:49 GMT

I had a very detailed dream last night about a House-related LJ comm, which may or may not exist (I've never heard mention of one, but it wouldn't surprise me). Basically, the comm existed to allow fans of the show to post anonymous medical-profession-related wank, in the safety of a fandom setting. Example: you get shafted by your doctor (who just won't believe you have lupus). You come to the comm and post a nasty letter addressed to Dr. House, or Dr. Wilson or Foreman or whoever's working at Princeton-Plainsboro these days (I haven't kept up). And there would be a related comm for people in medical-related fields to post patient!wank. I dreamt up the names but now I've forgotten them. :(

So if anyone out there wants to go form a comm for doctor/patient!wank under the safe guise of House, then you go right ahead.

Old vs New: Willy Wonka vs. Charlie

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 01:02:40 GMT

The Nostalgia Critic tackles a question for our times: which is the better movie, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory with Gene Wilder, or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with Johnny Depp?

Trufax: when I was very small, I wanted to marry Willy Wonka. And funnily enough, Brian is probably only a purple velvet tailcoat and a brown topper away from being the man of my sweet innocent childhood dreams. And he loves chocolate. <3

"This is just one... giant, goat-infested Mongolian cluster-fumble."

Thu, 24 Sep 2009 22:32:06 GMT

Title courtesy of my boss-lady, whom I lovingly refer to as The Captain, mainly for her unmatched capacity for treating the Graphics Dept like a sinking ship: get the women and children into the boats, save the valuables, and go down with the ship.

On Tuesday she had me print out a handful of fact sheets for Office of Staff Development (handful=300 sheets). I printed, I delivered, case closed. Next day the gent from OSOD comes up and asks "When will the other 2000 copies be ready?"

My reaction: *blinkblink* "Pardon?"

Apparently one of the commissioners was breathing down Mr. OSOD's neck for the training that these fact sheets accompany, so he needed the 2000 copies yesterday. "The Captain knew I needed these!" (copious rage!)

The Captain's reaction: "'Scuse me, uh, NO. Mr. OSOD never told me when he'd need the rest of them."

So I printed and boxed and delivered them, case closed (I hope).

I'm also supposed to be developing a new web page that will act as a hub for all of DoL's foreign-language fact sheets, of which there are A LOT. This requires me to snag text from the various .pdf files and put them into a .doc, and then throw them into Dreamweaver. The problem was that I couldn't grab the embedded foreign language text from the .pdfs. I had hoped that I would be able to go into the raw InDesign files and get the text that way, so The Captain and I bitched and moaned and got Adobe CS3 installed on my work computer. Then I bitched and moaned some more and got the techies to input the correct serial number so that I could actually access the programs. And when I finally get into the raw files, what do I find? That the translation companies we got the foreign language files from returned them to us as images, not as text.

Then I had to headdesk. A lot. Because my boss lady, who is lovely and neurotic and leaves me alone unless she has work for me to do (which is about 60% of the time), and for some reason looks as thought she should curse fluently in Swedish, does not know a damn thing about computers, and I dread having to tell her that I may need to work with one of the web designers to get all this gobbledygook onto the new page.

I may have to pacify her with chocolate. She likes chocolate. She brought brownies into work this morning, and originally I was frightened--boss lady giving away her chocolate can only mean that the end of the world is nigh. But it was a false alarm; just someone's birthday. Pretty good brownies too, although I could have done without the blueberries she put in them. Do not contaminate my chocolate with fruit/my fruit with chocolate. Unless they're strawberries. I make many exceptions for chocolate-covered strawberries.

Avon: A Terrible Aspect should be arriving in the mail in the next day or two. I look forward to reading it and then praying that Paul Darrow sticks to his ~~large ham~~ day job.

No more feet. :(

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 20:15:12 GMT

I am 5'8-1/2" tall and weigh 286 lbs. I also inherited massive and wide bones from both sides of the family. I can pick up the average person and hurl them a good six feet, and/or bench-press them, and just because I'm not allowed to ride a bumper car doesn't mean I can't move.

What it does mean, however, is that I'm apparently not allowed to wear pretty shoes.

I wear an 11W shoe, sometimes a 12. That's not bad if you're a guy. If you're a woman, then you're just shit out o' luck. And if you're too tall to wear the tall heels and too hefty to wear the stiletto heels, well then tough crap.

My wedding is in two weeks, all I want are some nice low heels to go with the dress. I'll take black, white, cream, certain shades of red or brown--I'm really trying not to be picky, because I know I'm coming down to the wire. But I went to three shoe stores today, and of the minuscule combined selection of 11Ws they had (and don't even get me started on the lack of 12s...), the ones that were the right color didn't fit and the ones that fit weren't the right color.

I have no problems with my big feet. I like my feet. I find them very useful, especially when walking. I need a Dr. Prunesquallor icon. But trying to find anything more complicated than a pair of tennis shoes is like trying to legally acquire a donated organ. I buy clothes almost exclusively at Lane Bryant because it's just about the only place where I can find clothing that fits me and doesn't look like a hefty bag at the same time. Can I have a shoe store that does the same thing?

The icon says it all.

Wed, 16 Sep 2009 18:26:31 GMT

My brain is ded.

Work, school, wedding crap, and trying to do serious work on a novel for the first time in years.

My gray matter is so scrambled, I could serve it up with bacon for breakfast tomorrow.

Tales from Homeland Security

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 23:02:26 GMT

This is a true story.

My dad has a friend whose son is a Federal Marshal or whatever. So Mr. Fed is flying across country to visit his father, and like every other poor soul who boards a plane nowadays, he has to go through security. He's carrying a loaded pistol, an extra clip, and a pair of handcuffs on his person. This does not faze security, because he is a Federal Marshal and has a license to carry the weapon.

He does not have a license for the just-barely-over-the-limit bottle of Visene... which they confiscate and lock up.

Head, meet Desk, Wall, and Plate Glass Window.

Goals are important.

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 19:34:08 GMT

Is it wrong that one of my deeply sought-after goals in life is to write a book upon which will be based a movie that will then be mocked by Rifftrax/ThatGuyWithTheGlasses/Nostalgia Chick/Cleolinda?

Discuss.

EDIT: Wow, I must not have been clear about this at all! Both here and on FB, people are assuming that I think this is a bad thing.

So I shall clarify: I WANT to be mocked by these people! Parody is a fantastic mode of creative expression, and if I've written something that gets the shit razzed out of it, it means that my work has made an impact, for good or ill, in someone's life--and what could any artist want more than that aside from a nice fat paycheck?

Ditto.

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 00:50:51 GMT

Publicist: Patric Swayze Dies at 57

*digs out the Dirty Dancing soundtrack*

Now I have to ask... who's next?

This week: CAMPING!

Sat, 22 Aug 2009 14:20:15 GMT

Time to play "How Angry Can We Make April?"!

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 12:23:19 GMT

Huckabee says 2 states in Holy Land 'unrealistic'

'"The question is should the Palestinians have a place to call their own? Yes, I have no problem with that. Should it be in the middle of the Jewish homeland? That's what I think has to be honestly assessed as virtually unrealistic."'

No sir, what is unrealistic is to assume that those of the Jewish faith have sole and unalienable claim to Isreal--which, have we forgotten, was actually Palestine before the Allies carved it up following World War II?

'The politician, a Southern Baptist preacher and a two-time former governor of Arkansas, praised Israel for giving Muslims access to Jerusalem's Dome of the Rock — also the site of the ancient Jewish temples — even though the presence of a mosque there "could be considered an affront."'

*headdeskdeskdesk*

All right, Mr. Preacher-Type Person.

Jerusalem is the home of three faiths, including your own--and don't forget, the Christians tried for nearly a millenium to take Jerusalem from the Muslims by force, and in the end, lost horribly. The goal is to end conflict in the Holy Land, not start another war by encouraging one religion to play grabby hands and try to keep for themselves what they should be sharing with others.

BRB tradin mah oxen 4 cornmeal.

Sun, 16 Aug 2009 00:25:12 GMT

No Matter How Hard I Try, I Still Can’t Master Telekinesis

Wed, 12 Aug 2009 12:44:05 GMT

Once again, I return from the depths of depravity, to enslave new minions to my unholy cause… Oops, wrong blog.

Nothing much to report, really, except that my hiatus from LJ-Land has for once not been systematic of the suckage of life and world and the universe and ev’rything. In a complete 180 from my normal state of affairs, I’m actually pretty content—which is never good for a writer’s mojo, after all, pain and suffering and angst are a ficcer’s stock in trade, so I hope it doesn’t last too long—but home life is good, family life is quiet, the new job (yes, I have a new job. Again) is more soul-satisfying than soul-crushing, and I’ve been bouncing back and forth between various writing projects and actually making progress on them.

Summer’s been a bit of a wash so far, as summers go. I’ve been swimming all of twice and haven’t made it camping or to the beach yet, but August isn’t over just yet. First day of RenFaire was amazing, second day… well, let’s just say if I could have found a boat, I would’ve been able to float home. I have high hopes for Labor Day, though, my brother and I may have finally convinced our bland-as-white-bread-on-the-outside parents to come to Faire with us! (I say ‘on the outside’ because I know my father is nowhere near as dull as he seems, he’s just quiet, and my mother can occasionally utter something so out of left field that I just know she holding back.)

I saw ‘Rent’ at Proctor’s last month, with two of the original cast members, Anthony Rapp and Adam Pascal, who are in just as good voice as they were when the show first opened fourteen years ago. At Tanglewood so far, I’ve seen Garrison Keillor’s A Prairie Home Companion, with Steve Martin, Martin Sheen and Arlo Guthrie (man, can Steve Martin pick a banjo!), John Williams’s annual ‘Film Night’ with the Boston Pops, and a performance of ‘Carmina Burana’ by the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Why religions aren’t based on that oratorio, I will never understand. Brian and I have a week’s vacation coming up at the end of August, which we’re thinking of spending meandering around Cape Cod, not sure yet, and then we’ll close out the season with James Taylor and more Boston Pops before Brian heads back to school.

I’ll have another post soon, describing my new co-workers, for they are mighty and awesome and worthy of description.

I will mess your history up.

Fri, 31 Jul 2009 00:39:44 GMT

Apparently, my great-great-great-great-great grand-uncle, Eleazar French, was at the Battle of Bunker Hill in 1775.

"The Dunstable company, composed of fifty men, forming a part of the Massachusetts regiment, under the command of Col. Ebenezer Bridge,commissioned at Billerica, May 27, was present, and participated in the memorable action of Bunker Hill. ... During the sanguinary contest that ensued, the company from Dunstable evinced all the valor of veteran soldiers, as many of them indeed were, and it was only after their ammunition was exhausted that they left the field. ... Eleazer French had an arm shot off during the action, and picking it up, bore it as a trophy from the bloody field."

Eleazar died not too long after the battle, however, he did not die of blood loss, shock, or infection. He died of consumption.

HE WENT TO WAR WITH FUCKING TUBERCULOSIS!!!!!

In conclusion, do not mess with the French Family, because even if you tear off our arms, we will beat you to death with them.

Nason, Elias. A History of the Town ofDunstable. Alfred Mudge & Son.
Boston. 1877.

"It must get tiresome for you, knowing so much."

Tue, 21 Jul 2009 22:29:50 GMT

I haven't talked too much about it here, but three weeks ago I accepted a promotion in another unit of Labor. *confetti* Since that time, my boss M. has been civil to me. Nothing more. I'd like to point out that when I told her that I'd gotten the job, the following was said:

M: "Well, I can't say that I'm happy for you."
Moi: "You mean, you're not happy that I'm going, but you're happy for me?"
M: *disdains*

So... yeah. I asked for three weeks' notice from my new division, rather than the normal two, because I knew I was going to need the extra time to get all my work shit sorted, and to give M. time to hire a replacement. I figured, when she hired me, she cut corners galore and got me the day after the previous secretary gave notice. She'll do that again, right? Ha! My replacement was hired this past Friday. Okay, so, that's the State. Not the point of this rant.

Since this is summer, a lot of people have been taking time off, like ya do, myself included. I had two half-weeks right around the time I was promoted, so I had some scrambling to do to catch up and all. Plus, the woman who helps me procure training for the Tech unit was on vacation, and didn't tell me before she left, so I was stranded, trying to fight out dates and locations with IBM by myself. Plus, M. dumps 2 or 3 major projects on me that I need to get done before I leave, one of which should have been done months ago, but which I was waiting for her to tell me to do it because it involved things of which I had no earthly knowledge. And THEN I find out that the other sec in my unit is on vacation this week, and the other two down at t'other end of the office are out Weds-Friday. This was all scheduled before anyone knew I was going to leave, which means that SOME HIGHLY PAID GENIUSES thought that it was perfectly acceptable to leave me the only secretary in the office. Not the first time they've thought that, btw, and when I leave tomorrow, I'll have been in P&T a grand total of 4 months and 3 days.

That giant block of text right there means I've got to answer phones and do another secretary's grunt work in addition to my own, train the person who's going to be taking over for me (who was hired this past Friday), IN ADDITION to all the extra shit that I've been taking care of for the past three weeks. SO.

M. comes over to me this afternoon and asks about 2 of the 3 projects. I show her what's been done, and in the process, discover some missing information in one of the personnel tables, which was easily attributable to some program issues I had last week with Excel. However, this fact never leaves my lips, because M. smirks at me and says: "I'm not surprised. You haven't really 'been here' since you got your new job. The consistency of your work isn't up to your usual standards."

WUT.

And my brain screeches to a halt. I mean, God! How obnoxious can you get? Especially when it isn't true!

So I'm cheesed off and rather in shock, so I stutter and hem and haw--basically, I lose all language and cognitive function. Suddenly I'm a scolded seven-year-old trying to make excuses for why her spelling homework isn't done.

M: "I've noticed it over the past three weeks. And this project? You've been working on it for months and it hasn't gotten done."

Months--months? You gave this to me last week! I finished it in three days! Bitch!

Moi: "B-b-but you didn't tell me to update this spreadsheet when I updated the other important one."
M: *disdains* "We use all these spreadsheets to keep track of personnel. You should have assumed that they would all need to be updated."

This is in spite of me telling her two months ago that I thought the 2nd and very complicated sheet needed to be updated to correspond with the other one, but that I didn't know how because of all the various codes and equations involved and could I please take an Excel class first? Her response to this was "Yes." Which she of course does not remember because she's got a mind like a sieve in spite of her protestations of organization.

Oh, and could my productivity level possibly be slipping because I'm trying to do the work of three people at once? Work which you gave me because you apparently don't trust the other secretary's comprehension skills?

M: "And you were very short with [another employee] this morning. That isn't like you. It's clear your mind isn't on your work.

Okay, yes, I blew up at someone I shouldn't have, and upset her. Yes, that was a misunderstanding on my part, my fault, and I apologized... well after the fact, but I still apologized. But to assume that it's because I'm eager to get away and start my new job at the expense of my current one is ignorant and insulting.

M. never even bothered to ask me if there was something else on my mind that might account for 'the consistency of my work.' Something like, oh I don't know, my wedding in a couple months? Problems at home? Indigestion? No, she just assumed it was because I no longer cared about my current unit.

Fuck you, M. The only thing that keeps me functional in State service is the level of attention and detail that I give to my work. And you know damn well that I'm the best sec you've had in years, that I do more work than any of the other secs because I'm your direct Office Bitch, and that I do it with barely any instruction because you don't know how to do my job.

Of course, then she realized that she'd insulted me and tried to back-pedal. She got all motherly on me and said that she'd always had high expectations of me and that I was going to go far and she knew it, and that was why she'd always been so demanding of me. Which is very honest of her, I'll give her that. But if I wanted to work with my mother, I'd work in my mother's office. I've said it many, many times on this journal: I resent being treated like my co-workers' child. I'm your subordinate, treat me like your subordinate. But don't pander to me because I'm half your age. I will never ever thank you for it.

And somewhere during her monologue of motherly insight, the title of this entry popped into my head. It's a quote from Avon, of Blake's 7, and he's addressing one of those all-powerful entities that apparently roam through space looking for travelers to fuck with. It came into my head in all Avon's snarktastic glory, and made me feel remarkably blase about the whole situation.

Because in spite of the fact that I do M's bidding without question or regard for my own safety, she still lost me. And that irritates her. In that moment, she reminded me of nothing so much as a little girl, sulking because she can't get her way, and trying to convince herself that what she wanted isn't really any good.

And hell's a-fire, but did I feel better about the whole thing. :)

Then later on I got my 3-month evaluation (a month late). And all down the line, she had checked off "Meets Expectations." Which would have been fine, had we not had that little conversation. She had only filled out the form today, and it made me wonder if she'd done that to spite me. But in retrospect, I know she didn't, because her expectations of me as a secretary are so high above what she expects to get from the other lady, they might as well grow wings and halos and play little harps. I'm never going to be able to satisfy this woman, and that's why it's a good thing that I'm leaving.

And that she's buying me lunch tomorrow.

In closing, here is a cinematic representation of my second-to-last day in Planning and Technology, surreptitiously ganked from the lovely draycevixen. Enjoy. I'm gonna go eat some sloppy joes, then drink a trifecta of alcohols and write Lupin/Tonks porn. Should be fun.