We have nothing on the husband of the old property manager, which means we can't deny him. She doesn't know that, yet.
One of the tenants I am taking to court on the 3rd is being a pain in the ass. I expected it from her, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it. I even moved our weekly meeting to our main office because I knew if we had it in my office on the property she would waste an hour of our time with a song and dance number.
Yesterday someone pulled the fire alarm in the building next to the office, which means the fire dept. shows up and we have to re-set the alarm. The electrical box for the building and the alarm is in the office building, and when she went down there the maintenance lady noticed that due to all the snow and ice on the roofs, the building is leaking. People's light fixtures are leaking, water is coming down their window frames, and water is dripping onto the electrical box. This means no fire alarm. A company has to come move / re-wire the electrical box, and we had to go buy smoke detectors for each apartment (the old ones all work on the fire alarm system, which is shorted out). So I just charged $130 worth of smoke alarm on my credit card at Home Depot. Also, we had to get people to come shovel off the roofs.
The maintenance lady had to catch a flight for CA at 4 pm, so she fixed what she could before she left, and today the resident services coordinator is throwing a "Holiday Party" for the kids. His girlfriend made cookies and he is doing crafts with the kids. I want no part of this, but I'm sure I'll be sucked into it somehow... and here he is, ready to party. Got to run...
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Many, many years of therapy
Hello.
I haven't written anything in 2 months because the job has been so crazy and stressful that although I felt it may be therapeutic to write about it, I couldn't bring myself to think about work outside of work long enough to write it down. It's stressful enough dealing with this crap 40 hours a week, I don't need to spend my spare time writing about it.
Especially when my spare time is being eaten up by my real career - roller derby.
In the last 2 months, I've played an inter-league bout against Colorado, a "Ho Bout" (Holiday themed bout) and we've drafted 4 new girls onto our team. The draft is a process that begins with try-outs in May and ends in October when the 4 teams sit down to draft their newbies. The new girls play in their real first derby bout Jan 2008.
That's a lot of work - watching new girls, taking notes on them, getting to know them... then once we draft them we have to make them uniforms, take new team & individual photos, write bios, train them and our team... But we got the best 4 of the crop so it's all worth it.
I've also been doing a lot of work for the derby public relations committee lately, and I decided I am going to toss my name into the hat for the manager position of the committee. I don't think anyone else is tossing their name in, so if I don't get picked I will be mildly offended. This is an unpaid position - our whole league is volunteer - though I will be exempt from paying dues, about $300 a year. And it will be a lot of work. I will have to go to derby board meetings (which I do already as the note taker- don't ever hold that position, you get all of the pain and none of the voting privileges), PR committee meetings, and do a bunch of coordination work and hopefully some writing. In October of 2008, Madison is hosting the Eastern Regionals Conference, so I will be doing a lot of work for that, too.
Despite my grim demeanor (I am not excited about much of anything these days) I would much rather do that job than my actual job. It combines 2 things I love - derby and writing - and doesn't require me to make moral choices like "do I tow that person's car even though I know they live here because they refused to get a parking sticker?" Or work with social workers. God, I hate social workers.
It will also be like having another part time job, which brings me to my current dilemma- I do not have enough time to play derby, work full time, manage the PR committee, and be married (in a good marriage. I could have a shitty marriage, but what's the point of that?) I am in a state of impasse. Do I quit my current job which I hate but pays well, reduce the hours in my current job to 30 a week instead of 40 (not sure if this is an option yet) - return to my old job working for an evil corporate bookstore / coffee shop that I quit when I could no longer go to work without crying, or try to find another part-time job that pays somewhat decently?
While I'm doing that, I also have to bust my ass to get better at derby (I made significant improvements this summer and I'll be damned if I let that backslide) and have simmering on the back burner, "figure out what the hell I want to do with my life". This includes reading lots of career books like "What Color is Your Parachute", doing research in the career library to figure out what career I want so I can figure out what field to get my Masters Degree in, and take the GRE and apply to grad schools.
All of this stuff in my brain at one time means my brain is on overload, hits the "off" switch, and I sit in a state of complete panic and indecision, crippled by fear, and am unable to make tiny decisions, let alone big ones. This causes me to revert to an infantile state of maturity and have outbursts like "I don't know what we should have for dinner! I don't know what the hell to do about my job, why do I have to think about dinner, too!?!!"
My husband, in case you are wondering, has been declared Venerable, approved for beautification, and by the time I have finished grad school will be a full-fledged saint. Provided I figure out what field to go into, pass the GRE, and get accepted by a grad school, that is.
So, if you know of a great 20 - 30 hour a week job that pays well, send it my way. Stripping is not an option.
Oh, and while I'm whining, all I want for Christmas is a puppy but due to time, money, and location restraints I can't have one. Tbphhhhhhh. At least I think about that stuff first instead of just going ahead and getting one, unlike you stupid people with your children.
I haven't written anything in 2 months because the job has been so crazy and stressful that although I felt it may be therapeutic to write about it, I couldn't bring myself to think about work outside of work long enough to write it down. It's stressful enough dealing with this crap 40 hours a week, I don't need to spend my spare time writing about it.
Especially when my spare time is being eaten up by my real career - roller derby.
In the last 2 months, I've played an inter-league bout against Colorado, a "Ho Bout" (Holiday themed bout) and we've drafted 4 new girls onto our team. The draft is a process that begins with try-outs in May and ends in October when the 4 teams sit down to draft their newbies. The new girls play in their real first derby bout Jan 2008.
That's a lot of work - watching new girls, taking notes on them, getting to know them... then once we draft them we have to make them uniforms, take new team & individual photos, write bios, train them and our team... But we got the best 4 of the crop so it's all worth it.
I've also been doing a lot of work for the derby public relations committee lately, and I decided I am going to toss my name into the hat for the manager position of the committee. I don't think anyone else is tossing their name in, so if I don't get picked I will be mildly offended. This is an unpaid position - our whole league is volunteer - though I will be exempt from paying dues, about $300 a year. And it will be a lot of work. I will have to go to derby board meetings (which I do already as the note taker- don't ever hold that position, you get all of the pain and none of the voting privileges), PR committee meetings, and do a bunch of coordination work and hopefully some writing. In October of 2008, Madison is hosting the Eastern Regionals Conference, so I will be doing a lot of work for that, too.
Despite my grim demeanor (I am not excited about much of anything these days) I would much rather do that job than my actual job. It combines 2 things I love - derby and writing - and doesn't require me to make moral choices like "do I tow that person's car even though I know they live here because they refused to get a parking sticker?" Or work with social workers. God, I hate social workers.
It will also be like having another part time job, which brings me to my current dilemma- I do not have enough time to play derby, work full time, manage the PR committee, and be married (in a good marriage. I could have a shitty marriage, but what's the point of that?) I am in a state of impasse. Do I quit my current job which I hate but pays well, reduce the hours in my current job to 30 a week instead of 40 (not sure if this is an option yet) - return to my old job working for an evil corporate bookstore / coffee shop that I quit when I could no longer go to work without crying, or try to find another part-time job that pays somewhat decently?
While I'm doing that, I also have to bust my ass to get better at derby (I made significant improvements this summer and I'll be damned if I let that backslide) and have simmering on the back burner, "figure out what the hell I want to do with my life". This includes reading lots of career books like "What Color is Your Parachute", doing research in the career library to figure out what career I want so I can figure out what field to get my Masters Degree in, and take the GRE and apply to grad schools.
All of this stuff in my brain at one time means my brain is on overload, hits the "off" switch, and I sit in a state of complete panic and indecision, crippled by fear, and am unable to make tiny decisions, let alone big ones. This causes me to revert to an infantile state of maturity and have outbursts like "I don't know what we should have for dinner! I don't know what the hell to do about my job, why do I have to think about dinner, too!?!!"
My husband, in case you are wondering, has been declared Venerable, approved for beautification, and by the time I have finished grad school will be a full-fledged saint. Provided I figure out what field to go into, pass the GRE, and get accepted by a grad school, that is.
So, if you know of a great 20 - 30 hour a week job that pays well, send it my way. Stripping is not an option.
Oh, and while I'm whining, all I want for Christmas is a puppy but due to time, money, and location restraints I can't have one. Tbphhhhhhh. At least I think about that stuff first instead of just going ahead and getting one, unlike you stupid people with your children.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Things That Have Been Happening
The carrot that was keeping me going for awhile in this job was the promise of September - come September I had put in my 6 months as a full-time employee and could finally use my vacation time.
I had planned to drag my husband back to his hometown to celebrate the Defeat of Jesse James Days, watch a rodeo, drink a lot of beer, and generally forget my life and get away from my job for some much needed stress relief.
As life would have it, that same weekend his grandfather got ill, had to be hospitalized, and passed away. So my planned vacation of debauchery and forgetfulness turned into trip to visit the family, feel depressed, and attend to the required and un-fun family business like funeral planning.
A week after that, we had to go back to his hometown for the actual funeral, also not fun or stress-free.
So now I am back to the ghetto, having missed a significant amount of work but not any more relaxed, feeling any better about my life, or with any more of a plan of what to do with it other than "Oh shit, now I have even more work to do because I missed week and I am even less motivated."
Before any of this happened, I had 3 new people move in (1 Hispanic family, 1 single woman with 2 kids, and 1 single woman). This week I have another Hispanic family moving in, a relative of the first Spanish-speakers I moved in when I started the job. I love them. They are quiet. They pay their rent on time and in full. I have every reason to believe their relatives will do the same.
The single lady with 2 kids is already a shitty tenant (literally - she let one of her kids shit outside on the steps of her building and didn't clean it up). She also has someone not on the lease living with her, and she has been here 2 weeks. I hope I can get her out before her Section 8 payments start.
The single girl is 20 years old, has a full time job, and I was hesitant to rent an apartment to her only because she is a prime target for the drug-dealing vultures in the neighborhood. They like nothing more than to set up shop in the apartment of an employed single woman who is going to pay the rent, let them store drugs and/or guns in the apartment, and protect them from police searches, etc. The dealer might also live there illegally, but has about 4 or 5 other places they hang out, which usually include the apartment or house of a mother or other older female relative, and several girlfriends' apartments.
I am still up to my ears in my own work plus the work for the Section 8 program, but at least we finally started interviewing people for the on-site social work position. I am very excited about that, mostly because I have been going to meetings that person should be attending, and I hate meetings. Especially meetings with clueless social workers who sit and whine uninterrupted for 2 hours in a conversation I can boil down to 1 sentence, "Someone should do something about all the problems!" I am beginning to seriously despise social workers.
I had planned to drag my husband back to his hometown to celebrate the Defeat of Jesse James Days, watch a rodeo, drink a lot of beer, and generally forget my life and get away from my job for some much needed stress relief.
As life would have it, that same weekend his grandfather got ill, had to be hospitalized, and passed away. So my planned vacation of debauchery and forgetfulness turned into trip to visit the family, feel depressed, and attend to the required and un-fun family business like funeral planning.
A week after that, we had to go back to his hometown for the actual funeral, also not fun or stress-free.
So now I am back to the ghetto, having missed a significant amount of work but not any more relaxed, feeling any better about my life, or with any more of a plan of what to do with it other than "Oh shit, now I have even more work to do because I missed week and I am even less motivated."
Before any of this happened, I had 3 new people move in (1 Hispanic family, 1 single woman with 2 kids, and 1 single woman). This week I have another Hispanic family moving in, a relative of the first Spanish-speakers I moved in when I started the job. I love them. They are quiet. They pay their rent on time and in full. I have every reason to believe their relatives will do the same.
The single lady with 2 kids is already a shitty tenant (literally - she let one of her kids shit outside on the steps of her building and didn't clean it up). She also has someone not on the lease living with her, and she has been here 2 weeks. I hope I can get her out before her Section 8 payments start.
The single girl is 20 years old, has a full time job, and I was hesitant to rent an apartment to her only because she is a prime target for the drug-dealing vultures in the neighborhood. They like nothing more than to set up shop in the apartment of an employed single woman who is going to pay the rent, let them store drugs and/or guns in the apartment, and protect them from police searches, etc. The dealer might also live there illegally, but has about 4 or 5 other places they hang out, which usually include the apartment or house of a mother or other older female relative, and several girlfriends' apartments.
I am still up to my ears in my own work plus the work for the Section 8 program, but at least we finally started interviewing people for the on-site social work position. I am very excited about that, mostly because I have been going to meetings that person should be attending, and I hate meetings. Especially meetings with clueless social workers who sit and whine uninterrupted for 2 hours in a conversation I can boil down to 1 sentence, "Someone should do something about all the problems!" I am beginning to seriously despise social workers.
Friday, August 24, 2007
We Love Football, But We Love Dogs More
Rape an undergrade, flunk out of college, beat your wife, no ones cares. But beware, NFL stars! participate in dog fighting and your career is over!
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Sass Will Bite You In The Ass
I just got word from my team captain that the Dairyland Dolls lost to the Windy City Rollers (Chicago's derby team), which means they have been eliminated from the tournament and will not be going to nationals in Texas.
This is sad and slightly amusing at the same time. Why this is sad: it's my league, we were voted #1 in the eastern region, and we are good enough to go to nationals. Oh, also, we already bought plane tickets to Texas. This ties into reason #1 of "Why this is amusing", below:
Why this is slightly amusing: 1) Hubris. Last year the Dairyland Dolls beat Windy City bad (they didn't score a single point) and we have underestimated the Chicago team ever since.
2) Attitude and attendance. The "tourney" players have been a bit snotty lately to us non-tourney players. Recently at a meeting they were complaining about not having more skilled players to scrimmage against in practice, a good third of the players rostered to play in the tournaments either never come to practice except for the week before a game or never come with any regularity, and the coaching, well, let's just say the coaching is sporadic.
3) That f-ing tv deal. The tourney players were all about the MavTV deal and bad-mouthed those of us with any objections to it quite a bit. Bet they're sad they signed that TV deal now that the whole country can see Chicago beat their asses.
And, I always like to root for the underdog. So yeah for Chicago! Tear for the DDs, and maybe next year things will work a little differently.
This is sad and slightly amusing at the same time. Why this is sad: it's my league, we were voted #1 in the eastern region, and we are good enough to go to nationals. Oh, also, we already bought plane tickets to Texas. This ties into reason #1 of "Why this is amusing", below:
Why this is slightly amusing: 1) Hubris. Last year the Dairyland Dolls beat Windy City bad (they didn't score a single point) and we have underestimated the Chicago team ever since.
2) Attitude and attendance. The "tourney" players have been a bit snotty lately to us non-tourney players. Recently at a meeting they were complaining about not having more skilled players to scrimmage against in practice, a good third of the players rostered to play in the tournaments either never come to practice except for the week before a game or never come with any regularity, and the coaching, well, let's just say the coaching is sporadic.
3) That f-ing tv deal. The tourney players were all about the MavTV deal and bad-mouthed those of us with any objections to it quite a bit. Bet they're sad they signed that TV deal now that the whole country can see Chicago beat their asses.
And, I always like to root for the underdog. So yeah for Chicago! Tear for the DDs, and maybe next year things will work a little differently.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
My Day in a Nutshell
Here's my day in a nutshell-
coffee (ahhh)
phone*
*each "phone" entry = one more task added to my plate
police in office
heroin dealing
phone
phone
phone
Supervisors in my office
do this do this do this
go to this meeting
phone
phone
people stopping in office
Supervisors still in office: do this and do this
"Oh __myname__, don't stress out!"
yeah right!!!!!!!!!
phone
people in office
phone
phone
people begging for apartments
"I know I was evicted but here's why my case is different!"
phone
phone
people stopping in office
applications
applications
applications
phone
phone
FOOD! (ahhhh)
.... and it's only 3:30 pm. I need a nap. A huge, huge, nap.
A huge dirt nap.
I wonder if working in porn is as bad as all those documentaries make it look. I did love Boogie Nights...
coffee (ahhh)
phone*
*each "phone" entry = one more task added to my plate
police in office
heroin dealing
phone
phone
phone
Supervisors in my office
do this do this do this
go to this meeting
phone
phone
people stopping in office
Supervisors still in office: do this and do this
"Oh __myname__, don't stress out!"
yeah right!!!!!!!!!
phone
people in office
phone
phone
people begging for apartments
"I know I was evicted but here's why my case is different!"
phone
phone
people stopping in office
applications
applications
applications
phone
phone
FOOD! (ahhhh)
.... and it's only 3:30 pm. I need a nap. A huge, huge, nap.
A huge dirt nap.
I wonder if working in porn is as bad as all those documentaries make it look. I did love Boogie Nights...
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
I Love Violent Acres
There’s a blog I love to read called Violent Acres. (www.violentacres.com) .
The woman who writes it (or whoever, who can tell on the internet?) also manages property—although her blog is not just on that topic—and she is just the sort of bitch I wish I could be: she’s overly opinionated and harsh, but well thought-out and articulated. Who knew I would aspire to grow up and be an effective bitch? My parents are so proud.
Here, for your reading pleasure, are 2 of my favorites, both about having / raising children . It’s a topic I think about a lot because I am constantly dealing with the loser, drug-dealing boyfriends of the tenants who are single women with children, and at my other job I help a lot of very low income people with a lot of children.
Follow the link, or just keep reading…
http://www.violentacres.com/archives/185/it-is-your-job-to-financially-provide-for-your-children
It Is Your Job To Financially Provide for Your Children. Also, Neglect is Child Abuse
This might sound harsh, but I’m going to say it anyway because I’m just that kind of bitch.
If you purposely have a child that you cannot afford, you are a child abuser.
Now whenever I say something like this, people deliberately try to twist the points I’m making because they’re really invested in the idea that the world is filled with perpetual victims. So I’m going to beat them to the punch here and disclaim right away that this is not a class issue, or a race issue, or a goddamn sex issue. This is a common sense issue.
When I say you must be able to afford the child you bring into the world, I mean you must be able to provide the basic necessities for your child to survive. I am not implying you need to be ‘rich’ to have kids. I am simply stating if you can’t afford to feed, clothe and shelter your children without government assistance, then you are neglecting them. It does not take much money to provide basic necessities for a child. I know of one single Mother out there that does quite well in this regard working a full time job at a fast food restaurant. You don’t need to be incredibly wealthy to have kids. But you should know how to financially prioritize a household. A kid can go without cable television. He cannot go without a winter coat.
Neglect is just as much child abuse as beatings or sexual exploitation. Furthermore, just because your child doesn’t suffer the symptoms of neglect (Because the government has stepped in and fed him when you didn’t) doesn’t mean you didn’t fail your child as a parent. Arguably, the most significant role a parent plays in a child’s life is that of a provider. If you cannot provide for your children, you have no business raising them.
I do realize that accidents happen and sometimes you are faced with a burden that you are not quite ready for. Also, tragedies in life do sometimes occur and a once ideal situation can be destroyed in the event of sickness, death, etc. Of course, as a parent, it is your job to prepare as much as you possibly can for these tragedies, but no one is perfect. In cases like these, receiving a helping hand from society is not a shameful act. I am not referring to you as child abusers in this scenario.
Who I am referring to are the people who constantly promote the idea that we should ‘Have children when we’re young! The money issue will work itself out!’ I have heard this phrase repeated ad nauseam throughout American Culture and it makes me absolutely sick to hear it. It very covertly encourages people to risk becoming child abusers as they hope for money to fall from the sky in the wake of tough times. It also subtly insists that the youth of a parent matters more to the wellbeing of a child than the parent’s ability to provide for said child.
My counter is, Love your children more than that. Love them enough to work your ass off to create the most optimal home situation you are capable of creating before bringing them into the world. Love them enough to want to start them off in life ready to race, as opposed to starting them off ten steps behind all the other kids.
Throwing caution to the wind and attempting to conceive despite your poor financial position is indicative of a childlike mentality. Love your child enough to wait until you’re an adult who is emotionally mature enough to raise him.
Another group I find fault with is the Kid Sex Lottery Jackasses. These are the people who are so obsessed with having a child who is a particular sex that they will keep having kids in order to win the ‘Kid Sex Lottery’ without any regard to how they will be able to support their family. A good example of this is the parents who have 3 sons they can barely support, yet will purposely keep trying for a little girl. They worry more about how their family photos will look than they worry about the fact that they’re barely keeping their heads above water as it is. Not only is this attitude abusive to the children they already have, but it’s abusive to that elusive, unborn little girl.
A child deserves to grow up in an environment where they feel safe and cared for. They deserve food, shelter, clothing, medical treatment, and an education. Most of all, they deserve the piece of mind they get when they receive these things from their parents, as opposed to government agencies who inadvertently create feelings of inferiority who just might not always exist. If you are unwilling or unable to provide these basic necessities for your child without the help of the government or society, you are not parenting them. You are babysitting them.
And don’t give me any of that crap where you ask hypothetical questions like, “If you asked a child to choose between a loving family and a family who has money to support him, what would he pick?”
The question is asinine and obvious and it implies that financially stable people don’t love their kids, but I will answer it anyway:
BOTH, YOU FUCKING MORONS, BOTH.
A child shouldn’t have to choose between a loving family and financially stable home life. He should get both, by default. Again, I will state that the primary role a parent must adopt is that of provider. This includes a provider of love just as much as a provider of food and shelter. Just because you’re really good at the love part doesn’t negate your responsibility to provide the shelter part. Don’t make your kids “choose” between hugs and food to justify your failure as a parent.
Again, I say, love your kids more than that.
Where are the Baby Factories? On Livejournal, Of Course!
http://www.violentacres.com/archives/198/where-are-the-baby-factories-on-livejournal-of-course
When I made the case that people who pop out children willy nilly without any regard whatsoever as to how they’re going to pay for said children are child abusers, a lot of people reacted in disbelief.
“Where does V find all of these people who just have baby after baby?” they asked, “I’ve never known a single person to behave in such a fashion!”
My response is don’t you people read the fucking Internet? I could give myself an aneurism reading posts from women who can’t support their children but just really, really, really want some more. Also, you have to keep in mind that these women are posting on computers with Internet connections. They can’t afford a jar of peanut butter to feed their kids, but they sure as fuck manage to work a subscription to AOL into their monthly budget!
Take, for instance, the woman who goes by the handle ‘Ghostmommylady. (GML)’ I ran across her dribble just today after she posted bitching about some poor customer service she supposedly received and someone used a link to my article as a rebuttal. To spare you all the horror of actually clicking over to her posts, I’m going to quote her most relevant comments here. You’re welcome.
GML starts out with a letter to ‘Inconsiderate asswipes:’
“Yes, I have three children. Yes, all three children are under the age of 4, although the oldest will BE 4 in November. Yes, I’m pregnant again.
Yes, I was taking birth control. No, I’m sure I didn’t miss any days. Yes, I’m sure that these kids are mine, that I want them, and that I DO want kid #4 (who we’ve finally picked out a name for).
SO FUCK OFF, ASSHOLES…and stop treating me like shit JUST BECAUSE I WANT A LARGE FAMILY!”
I absolutely do not have anything against large families. Although, I would make the case that 4 children under the age of 4 would be incredibly difficult for even the best Mother/Father team to parent effectively. However, it can be done and as long as it’s being done well, it’s really none of my business. This is presuming, of course, that 4 children fit into the family budget.
Unfortunately, in GML’s case, 4 children do not fit into the family budget. After her letter to the asswipes of the world, she explains the confrontation she had in a grocery store that spurned her rant. Let’s just say it doesn’t paint a pretty picture.
“To explain this rant…
I picked up my WIC checks and headed out to get some stuff. The cashier I got was a youngish woman, probably early to mid 20’s ….. My kids behaved themselves (for a change…the girls are notorious for being little brats at times)…..This woman asks me if I’m baby sitting. I tell her no, that all three of these kids are mine. I have to give her my ID with my WIC checks, so my birthdate is pretty freaking obvious on my driver’s license. She stares at it, and then at me, and then back at my license. Then she makes some comment about me looking pregnant to her bagger. Not to me…to her CO-WORKER. Me being the way I am, I told her that I was pregnant. She asked me point blank if I’d ever heard of something called birth control.
I had my groceries at that point, so I just walked off. I went to the service desk and complained about the cashier to the manager. The manager said he’d take care of it, and was in the process of telling her off as I walked out. The kicker? She made a comment that pissed me off even more as I walked out. “She’s a fucking bottom feeder,…. She’s just having kids so she can stay on welfare.”
FUCK YOU, BITCH! My husband doesn’t make enough money to support a family of five.”
There you have it, folks. Her husband doesn’t make enough money to support a family of 5, but she feels entitled to go ahead and have one anyway. Why not? The government will pick up the slack!
One can also deduce by the way the cashier looked at her driver’s license that this woman is particularly young. On top of that, she says her children are “notorious for being little brats,” so it doesn’t sound to me like she’s doing a very good job raising them. I have nothing to go on but this woman’s own description of what went down and already I have a bit of sympathy for that cashier.
What cracks me up about this whole post is her high and mighty attitude. She snidely puts the cashier down, making fun of the fact that she’s wearing a “ton of make up” and has “bleached blonde hair.” Not once does she consider that cashiers, as taxpaying citizens, are feeding her children.
I’ve said this before, but parents who can not provide food and necessities for their children are not parents. They are babysitters. In the case of GML, the citizens of the country she lives in are providing for her kids, so it’s the citizens who are the real parents. Not only that, but they didn’t ask to be pseudo-parents to her children. She forced them into it via her poor life choices. So excuse the hell out of them if they tend to get a little annoyed when they see her fucking up their kids.
For all this woman knows, the cashier has a child of her own at home who she loves enough to work her ass off to support. And every dollar of her paycheck that gets siphoned off to some government sponsored program that promotes an irresponsible victim mentality is just another dollar out of her kid’s mouth. You know, the kid she actually wants to support.
Or, maybe the cashier is just a single girl that wants to spend all of her money on make-up and hair dye. Either way, it’s her money. She worked for it. Why should she give it to people like this? They’ll only piss it all away while simultaneously breeding the next generation of perpetual charity cases.
I love how women like this claim to love their children. They’d step in front of a bus for their children! They’d do anything for their children! They’d do anything, of course, but get a fucking job to support their children. As a taxpaying citizen, I’d rather pay for the majority of a family’s childcare expenses, (thereby making the prospect of a job ‘worth it’ to them) rather than pay them to sit around suckling from the government teat.
As far as I’m concerned, when the cashier called her a ‘bottom feeder,’ she was being kind. I would have referred to her as a child abuser, guilty of neglect. I would have roped her in with the pedophiles and the psychopaths that put cigars out on their children’s backs. She’s no better. Children are the only people on this planet who can seriously claim 100% victim status. Those who abuse them are not worthy of respect, courtesy, kindness, or compassion. They don’t deserve ‘good service.’ They deserve a jail cell.
Again, I’m going to quote GML’s last sentence of her letter because I really think it says it all.
“SO FUCK OFF, ASSHOLES…and stop treating me like shit JUST BECAUSE I WANT A LARGE FAMILY!”
Do you hear that assholes? She wants a large family. And she wants you, dear taxpayer, to provide her with the means to get it! Should you question her in any way, shape, or form, she will respond with righteous indignation! After all, here in America, everyone should get everything they want free of charge, right?
On the other hand, I’m betting her children want parents who aren’t such deadbeats.
Whose needs should we be catering to again?
The woman who writes it (or whoever, who can tell on the internet?) also manages property—although her blog is not just on that topic—and she is just the sort of bitch I wish I could be: she’s overly opinionated and harsh, but well thought-out and articulated. Who knew I would aspire to grow up and be an effective bitch? My parents are so proud.
Here, for your reading pleasure, are 2 of my favorites, both about having / raising children . It’s a topic I think about a lot because I am constantly dealing with the loser, drug-dealing boyfriends of the tenants who are single women with children, and at my other job I help a lot of very low income people with a lot of children.
Follow the link, or just keep reading…
http://www.violentacres.com/archives/185/it-is-your-job-to-financially-provide-for-your-children
It Is Your Job To Financially Provide for Your Children. Also, Neglect is Child Abuse
This might sound harsh, but I’m going to say it anyway because I’m just that kind of bitch.
If you purposely have a child that you cannot afford, you are a child abuser.
Now whenever I say something like this, people deliberately try to twist the points I’m making because they’re really invested in the idea that the world is filled with perpetual victims. So I’m going to beat them to the punch here and disclaim right away that this is not a class issue, or a race issue, or a goddamn sex issue. This is a common sense issue.
When I say you must be able to afford the child you bring into the world, I mean you must be able to provide the basic necessities for your child to survive. I am not implying you need to be ‘rich’ to have kids. I am simply stating if you can’t afford to feed, clothe and shelter your children without government assistance, then you are neglecting them. It does not take much money to provide basic necessities for a child. I know of one single Mother out there that does quite well in this regard working a full time job at a fast food restaurant. You don’t need to be incredibly wealthy to have kids. But you should know how to financially prioritize a household. A kid can go without cable television. He cannot go without a winter coat.
Neglect is just as much child abuse as beatings or sexual exploitation. Furthermore, just because your child doesn’t suffer the symptoms of neglect (Because the government has stepped in and fed him when you didn’t) doesn’t mean you didn’t fail your child as a parent. Arguably, the most significant role a parent plays in a child’s life is that of a provider. If you cannot provide for your children, you have no business raising them.
I do realize that accidents happen and sometimes you are faced with a burden that you are not quite ready for. Also, tragedies in life do sometimes occur and a once ideal situation can be destroyed in the event of sickness, death, etc. Of course, as a parent, it is your job to prepare as much as you possibly can for these tragedies, but no one is perfect. In cases like these, receiving a helping hand from society is not a shameful act. I am not referring to you as child abusers in this scenario.
Who I am referring to are the people who constantly promote the idea that we should ‘Have children when we’re young! The money issue will work itself out!’ I have heard this phrase repeated ad nauseam throughout American Culture and it makes me absolutely sick to hear it. It very covertly encourages people to risk becoming child abusers as they hope for money to fall from the sky in the wake of tough times. It also subtly insists that the youth of a parent matters more to the wellbeing of a child than the parent’s ability to provide for said child.
My counter is, Love your children more than that. Love them enough to work your ass off to create the most optimal home situation you are capable of creating before bringing them into the world. Love them enough to want to start them off in life ready to race, as opposed to starting them off ten steps behind all the other kids.
Throwing caution to the wind and attempting to conceive despite your poor financial position is indicative of a childlike mentality. Love your child enough to wait until you’re an adult who is emotionally mature enough to raise him.
Another group I find fault with is the Kid Sex Lottery Jackasses. These are the people who are so obsessed with having a child who is a particular sex that they will keep having kids in order to win the ‘Kid Sex Lottery’ without any regard to how they will be able to support their family. A good example of this is the parents who have 3 sons they can barely support, yet will purposely keep trying for a little girl. They worry more about how their family photos will look than they worry about the fact that they’re barely keeping their heads above water as it is. Not only is this attitude abusive to the children they already have, but it’s abusive to that elusive, unborn little girl.
A child deserves to grow up in an environment where they feel safe and cared for. They deserve food, shelter, clothing, medical treatment, and an education. Most of all, they deserve the piece of mind they get when they receive these things from their parents, as opposed to government agencies who inadvertently create feelings of inferiority who just might not always exist. If you are unwilling or unable to provide these basic necessities for your child without the help of the government or society, you are not parenting them. You are babysitting them.
And don’t give me any of that crap where you ask hypothetical questions like, “If you asked a child to choose between a loving family and a family who has money to support him, what would he pick?”
The question is asinine and obvious and it implies that financially stable people don’t love their kids, but I will answer it anyway:
BOTH, YOU FUCKING MORONS, BOTH.
A child shouldn’t have to choose between a loving family and financially stable home life. He should get both, by default. Again, I will state that the primary role a parent must adopt is that of provider. This includes a provider of love just as much as a provider of food and shelter. Just because you’re really good at the love part doesn’t negate your responsibility to provide the shelter part. Don’t make your kids “choose” between hugs and food to justify your failure as a parent.
Again, I say, love your kids more than that.
Where are the Baby Factories? On Livejournal, Of Course!
http://www.violentacres.com/archives/198/where-are-the-baby-factories-on-livejournal-of-course
When I made the case that people who pop out children willy nilly without any regard whatsoever as to how they’re going to pay for said children are child abusers, a lot of people reacted in disbelief.
“Where does V find all of these people who just have baby after baby?” they asked, “I’ve never known a single person to behave in such a fashion!”
My response is don’t you people read the fucking Internet? I could give myself an aneurism reading posts from women who can’t support their children but just really, really, really want some more. Also, you have to keep in mind that these women are posting on computers with Internet connections. They can’t afford a jar of peanut butter to feed their kids, but they sure as fuck manage to work a subscription to AOL into their monthly budget!
Take, for instance, the woman who goes by the handle ‘Ghostmommylady. (GML)’ I ran across her dribble just today after she posted bitching about some poor customer service she supposedly received and someone used a link to my article as a rebuttal. To spare you all the horror of actually clicking over to her posts, I’m going to quote her most relevant comments here. You’re welcome.
GML starts out with a letter to ‘Inconsiderate asswipes:’
“Yes, I have three children. Yes, all three children are under the age of 4, although the oldest will BE 4 in November. Yes, I’m pregnant again.
Yes, I was taking birth control. No, I’m sure I didn’t miss any days. Yes, I’m sure that these kids are mine, that I want them, and that I DO want kid #4 (who we’ve finally picked out a name for).
SO FUCK OFF, ASSHOLES…and stop treating me like shit JUST BECAUSE I WANT A LARGE FAMILY!”
I absolutely do not have anything against large families. Although, I would make the case that 4 children under the age of 4 would be incredibly difficult for even the best Mother/Father team to parent effectively. However, it can be done and as long as it’s being done well, it’s really none of my business. This is presuming, of course, that 4 children fit into the family budget.
Unfortunately, in GML’s case, 4 children do not fit into the family budget. After her letter to the asswipes of the world, she explains the confrontation she had in a grocery store that spurned her rant. Let’s just say it doesn’t paint a pretty picture.
“To explain this rant…
I picked up my WIC checks and headed out to get some stuff. The cashier I got was a youngish woman, probably early to mid 20’s ….. My kids behaved themselves (for a change…the girls are notorious for being little brats at times)…..This woman asks me if I’m baby sitting. I tell her no, that all three of these kids are mine. I have to give her my ID with my WIC checks, so my birthdate is pretty freaking obvious on my driver’s license. She stares at it, and then at me, and then back at my license. Then she makes some comment about me looking pregnant to her bagger. Not to me…to her CO-WORKER. Me being the way I am, I told her that I was pregnant. She asked me point blank if I’d ever heard of something called birth control.
I had my groceries at that point, so I just walked off. I went to the service desk and complained about the cashier to the manager. The manager said he’d take care of it, and was in the process of telling her off as I walked out. The kicker? She made a comment that pissed me off even more as I walked out. “She’s a fucking bottom feeder,…. She’s just having kids so she can stay on welfare.”
FUCK YOU, BITCH! My husband doesn’t make enough money to support a family of five.”
There you have it, folks. Her husband doesn’t make enough money to support a family of 5, but she feels entitled to go ahead and have one anyway. Why not? The government will pick up the slack!
One can also deduce by the way the cashier looked at her driver’s license that this woman is particularly young. On top of that, she says her children are “notorious for being little brats,” so it doesn’t sound to me like she’s doing a very good job raising them. I have nothing to go on but this woman’s own description of what went down and already I have a bit of sympathy for that cashier.
What cracks me up about this whole post is her high and mighty attitude. She snidely puts the cashier down, making fun of the fact that she’s wearing a “ton of make up” and has “bleached blonde hair.” Not once does she consider that cashiers, as taxpaying citizens, are feeding her children.
I’ve said this before, but parents who can not provide food and necessities for their children are not parents. They are babysitters. In the case of GML, the citizens of the country she lives in are providing for her kids, so it’s the citizens who are the real parents. Not only that, but they didn’t ask to be pseudo-parents to her children. She forced them into it via her poor life choices. So excuse the hell out of them if they tend to get a little annoyed when they see her fucking up their kids.
For all this woman knows, the cashier has a child of her own at home who she loves enough to work her ass off to support. And every dollar of her paycheck that gets siphoned off to some government sponsored program that promotes an irresponsible victim mentality is just another dollar out of her kid’s mouth. You know, the kid she actually wants to support.
Or, maybe the cashier is just a single girl that wants to spend all of her money on make-up and hair dye. Either way, it’s her money. She worked for it. Why should she give it to people like this? They’ll only piss it all away while simultaneously breeding the next generation of perpetual charity cases.
I love how women like this claim to love their children. They’d step in front of a bus for their children! They’d do anything for their children! They’d do anything, of course, but get a fucking job to support their children. As a taxpaying citizen, I’d rather pay for the majority of a family’s childcare expenses, (thereby making the prospect of a job ‘worth it’ to them) rather than pay them to sit around suckling from the government teat.
As far as I’m concerned, when the cashier called her a ‘bottom feeder,’ she was being kind. I would have referred to her as a child abuser, guilty of neglect. I would have roped her in with the pedophiles and the psychopaths that put cigars out on their children’s backs. She’s no better. Children are the only people on this planet who can seriously claim 100% victim status. Those who abuse them are not worthy of respect, courtesy, kindness, or compassion. They don’t deserve ‘good service.’ They deserve a jail cell.
Again, I’m going to quote GML’s last sentence of her letter because I really think it says it all.
“SO FUCK OFF, ASSHOLES…and stop treating me like shit JUST BECAUSE I WANT A LARGE FAMILY!”
Do you hear that assholes? She wants a large family. And she wants you, dear taxpayer, to provide her with the means to get it! Should you question her in any way, shape, or form, she will respond with righteous indignation! After all, here in America, everyone should get everything they want free of charge, right?
On the other hand, I’m betting her children want parents who aren’t such deadbeats.
Whose needs should we be catering to again?
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Email to my supervisors
(name of supervisor 1) & (name of supervisor 2)-
When we received the most recent utility bills I noticed that 1 of the vacant apartments had a bill of $42.46.
This seemed odd, because normally the bills for the vacant apartments are between $6 - $9. I left a note for (the maintenance lady) asking how a vacant apartment could have an electric bill that high and she left me a note saying "(the old property manager) was using it".
The period of the bill was 6/06/2007 - 07/12/2007.
Do you want me to pay this bill? Does (the old property manager) still have keys to this building? Do we need to change the locks on all the buildings?
Please advise.
Thanks,
(me)
When we received the most recent utility bills I noticed that 1 of the vacant apartments had a bill of $42.46.
This seemed odd, because normally the bills for the vacant apartments are between $6 - $9. I left a note for (the maintenance lady) asking how a vacant apartment could have an electric bill that high and she left me a note saying "(the old property manager) was using it".
The period of the bill was 6/06/2007 - 07/12/2007.
Do you want me to pay this bill? Does (the old property manager) still have keys to this building? Do we need to change the locks on all the buildings?
Please advise.
Thanks,
(me)
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Parking
I have been wanting to institute a parking policy here for awhile - there are a ton of cars parked in the parking lot that don't belong to residents, and a ton of cars that do belong to residents but that don't run, don't have any plates, or are otherwise illegal and /or useless.
I haven't started this parking policy yet because I have more pressing things to deal with, and before we can start enforcing it I will have to write a lease addendum, check with the proper authorities to make sure it's legal, and then all the tenants will have to come into the office and sign the lease addendum.
Today, the tenant who started the whole buzz about the old property manager stealing money was having a fit because she couldn't find a spot to park behind her building. Note: there are plenty of vacant parking spots, because only about half of the apartments are filled, there just weren't any behind her building. She got mad at another tenant in her building because they were taking up 2 parking spots (the tenant who yelled obscenely at me after I stuck a parking violation sticker on her car for parking illegally) , and you can imagine the shouting match that ensued. This occurred just as a prospective tenant was leaving my office after filling out an application. Awkward.... But, she's going to figure out the way of the neighborhood sometime. Better now before she goes through with the application process than after she forks over her money.
I thought to myself "I could go outside and tell then to stop fighting, but then they are just going to start yelling at me & want me to tell one of them that the other is wrong, and, to be honest, if they get carried away and one or both of them calls the cops my day will be much more interesting."
Sure enough, after they were done yelling first 1 then the other came into my office to complain about how the other was parking. I nod and sympathize and tell them about my plan for a parking policy, but refuse to assign parking stalls, which is what they both want.
I haven't started this parking policy yet because I have more pressing things to deal with, and before we can start enforcing it I will have to write a lease addendum, check with the proper authorities to make sure it's legal, and then all the tenants will have to come into the office and sign the lease addendum.
Today, the tenant who started the whole buzz about the old property manager stealing money was having a fit because she couldn't find a spot to park behind her building. Note: there are plenty of vacant parking spots, because only about half of the apartments are filled, there just weren't any behind her building. She got mad at another tenant in her building because they were taking up 2 parking spots (the tenant who yelled obscenely at me after I stuck a parking violation sticker on her car for parking illegally) , and you can imagine the shouting match that ensued. This occurred just as a prospective tenant was leaving my office after filling out an application. Awkward.... But, she's going to figure out the way of the neighborhood sometime. Better now before she goes through with the application process than after she forks over her money.
I thought to myself "I could go outside and tell then to stop fighting, but then they are just going to start yelling at me & want me to tell one of them that the other is wrong, and, to be honest, if they get carried away and one or both of them calls the cops my day will be much more interesting."
Sure enough, after they were done yelling first 1 then the other came into my office to complain about how the other was parking. I nod and sympathize and tell them about my plan for a parking policy, but refuse to assign parking stalls, which is what they both want.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
My Least Favorite Part
I hate turning down people for apartments. Even though I know they won't pay their rent, they will be bad tenants, they will have problems with noise and traffic and the police and neighbors, it's my least favorite part of this job. Worse than evicting people.
Everyone needs a place to live. Everyone deserves a place to live. And in the sort of neighborhood I am in, if people don't get approved here, they probably won't get approved anywhere. Meaning that after this neighborhood, the next stop is living with a family member, in a shelter, or the street.
Ok, to be fair, there are plenty of scummy private landlords who will take them. but the rent will be twice as much.
I can't say I'll be surprised if I wind up addicted to pain killers. I hope the press is kinder to me than Rush Limbaugh. Oh, wait, I don't get any press. No worries, then.
Everyone needs a place to live. Everyone deserves a place to live. And in the sort of neighborhood I am in, if people don't get approved here, they probably won't get approved anywhere. Meaning that after this neighborhood, the next stop is living with a family member, in a shelter, or the street.
Ok, to be fair, there are plenty of scummy private landlords who will take them. but the rent will be twice as much.
I can't say I'll be surprised if I wind up addicted to pain killers. I hope the press is kinder to me than Rush Limbaugh. Oh, wait, I don't get any press. No worries, then.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The Funniest Thing I Have Ever Seen.
To this day, this remains 1 of the funniest things I have ever seen in my life. Ever.
It is appropriate for work (tho it contains swear words), but if you work in an office where people will wonder why you're cackling out loud at your computer screen / cackling out loud at your computer screen will give you away as surfing the net, you may want to wait until you get home. Or print it out and read it at home.
Extra fun: if you ride the bus, print it out, read it on the ride home, and guffaw like a crazy homeless person (albeit a nice-smelling one). I guarantee you'll have that bench all to yourself!
http://www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net/c.cgi?u=irule
It is appropriate for work (tho it contains swear words), but if you work in an office where people will wonder why you're cackling out loud at your computer screen / cackling out loud at your computer screen will give you away as surfing the net, you may want to wait until you get home. Or print it out and read it at home.
Extra fun: if you ride the bus, print it out, read it on the ride home, and guffaw like a crazy homeless person (albeit a nice-smelling one). I guarantee you'll have that bench all to yourself!
http://www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net/c.cgi?u=irule
Ants
There's an ant infestation in my office (which is a vacant apartment). It makes me feel like there are bugs crawling all over me, sort of like when you find a tick on yourself and then feel "ghost ticks" crawling on you the rest of the day.
Ah, the Midwest.
We don't use the kitchen (except for the fridge) so I'm not sure where the ants are coming from / what they're attracted to. Maybe they can smell the higher than normal levels of sugar in my blood stream. Carnivore ants. Awesome.
Ah, the Midwest.
We don't use the kitchen (except for the fridge) so I'm not sure where the ants are coming from / what they're attracted to. Maybe they can smell the higher than normal levels of sugar in my blood stream. Carnivore ants. Awesome.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
…AND THE BAD PROPERTY MANAGER OF THE YEAR AWARD GOES TO:
A woman to whom I gave a 5-day notice for having the phone in her boyfriend’s name (Lease violation! All utilities must be in the name of an adult on the lease!) asked me what she was supposed to do because she can't get a phone in her name. I told her “don’t call the office from that phone”.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
petroleum cocktails
Funny work story o' the day: The maintenance lady left the gas container for the weed-wacker sitting on the front step of the main building, and someone took off with it. We didn't realize that someone had taken it until a guy came back with the container (full) and said he felt bad that his cousin had taken it to put in his gas tank so he had refilled and returned it.
He looked nervous, wondering what we were going to do, then looked confused when, instead of being mad, the maintenance lady and I just laughed.
She explained that the liquid in the container was a half gas, half oil mixture because that's what weed-wackers run on, so good luck driving the car.
I told her not to use the gas in the container the guy returned, because it was probably half gas, half water or something. Later, during our weekly meeting, my "consultant" said the guy probably brought the container back because the car had stalled after they put in the gas/oil mixture and he wanted to figure out what was going on. I'm not quite that bitter yet, but it made me feel a little warm and fuzzy.
Crime doesn't pay, after all. Not unless it's white collar crime, anyway.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Beware the Smug
I don't know if anyone saw the South Park episode where the U.S. is nearly destroyed by the giant cloud of smug emitted by people who are so self-righteous about their do-gooding they think their own farts smell like roses, but it was awesome. It made me laugh, and sort of reminded me of living on the East Coast. Until today, when I went to lunch with my husband, and it reminded me of living HERE.
Because in the parking lot of the sandwich shop where we went to eat, I saw not 1, but 2 cars with owners so clearly smug I wanted to run into them with my piece o' shit (but totally awesome) stick-shift-tape-deck-only-so-what-if-it-has-a-few-rust-spots go-wagon.
The first car was a newer model Toyota (or some other small Asian car), green, of course, with the license plate ECO CAR and the rear end plastered, I mean literally covered, with bumper stickers like "Think Green!" and "Love Your Mother Earth" and "Recycle" and shit like that. Note: They are called bumper stickers. Think about it. Bumper. Stickers.
Let me be clear about bumper stickers. I myself have a bumper sticker. ONE bumper sticker. It says "Family Farms - YES, Factory Farms - NO". I am from the Midwest and this is something I believe in very deeply. It is not something I follow very well, because I live in a city and shop at a chain grocery store that I guarantee does not carry local farm produce and the local meat at the farmer's market is too damn expensive. I like my bumper sticker and its message a lot, but I feel badly I don't follow it very well and it looks stupid on my car. Also, when I drive like an asshole I am afraid people are thinking "That girl just cut me off! Well, no way am I ever going to support local farms if all the local farm assholes act like that!" This is also the main reason I don't have any derby bumper stickers on my car. That and I like to be anonymous. Especially in my current line of work.
So, my own guilt about bumper sticker hypocrisy aside, I firmly believe the only bumper stickers that belong on cars are the ones that say things like "Honk if You Love Jesus", "My Boss is a Jewish Carpenter", "My President is Charlton Heston", and "Jesus Loves You, Everyone Else Thinks You're an Asshole". Or, any bumper sticker from a national park / landmark or commemorating a trip (a trip you took in your car, for all you asses who put those oval-shaped country stickers on your car to brag about the places you've been, like "UK". Oh really, how was the drive there?)
This is because those acceptable bumper stickers (see above) give you a good chuckle and a warning about the people who are driving the car. "Whoa, those people are a little crazy, I will just stay in this other lane". Or "Whoa, that guy is an NRA fanatic, I will not piss him off by riding on his tail". The same could be argued for other bumper stickers, I guess, but I'm not sure that "Goddess Power" gives me a good idea of how someone is going to drive.
The second car in the parking lot was a Honda Civic with the license plate NV MY MPG. That one really put me over the top. I was fuming so badly I missed the "Pro Life" bumper sticker. Luckily the hubster had the wherewithal to point it out, which stopped my fuming because my brain was wrapping around itself attempting to fathom the sort of person who is smug about being environmentally friendly but wants to oppress women. Unless they were just bragging about the MPG, in which case I am not surprised.
My other beef with bumper stickers is that they are pointless and, like car alarms, probably do more harm than good. When was the last time you were driving behind someone, read a bumper sticker on their car, and said, "My god, how can I have been so ignorant! It's all so clear to me now! My life will never be the same!" NOW, how many times were you driving behind someone, read a bumper sticker on their car, and wanted to run them off the road / follow them home and punch them in the face? More times than the first one, I'm willing to bet.
Add to that the number of people who are dumb enough to drive around with beer slogans, Grateful Dead, Bob Marley, and/or pot leaf stickers on their cars- yeah, I bet that makes your interaction with the police much more pleasant when you get pulled over.
I know that Americans spend more time in their cars than any other nation on the planet*
*completely unfounded unscientific claim
They already serve as a phone booth, stereo system, mobile food eatery, and daycare system, do they really need to be a billboard, too? Let's all do our part to make this a more beautiful America - just say NO to bumper stickers.
This post does not apply to a certain friend with 1 homemade bumper sticker "I *heart* cock". Keep up the good work.
Because in the parking lot of the sandwich shop where we went to eat, I saw not 1, but 2 cars with owners so clearly smug I wanted to run into them with my piece o' shit (but totally awesome) stick-shift-tape-deck-only-so-what-if-it-has-a-few-rust-spots go-wagon.
The first car was a newer model Toyota (or some other small Asian car), green, of course, with the license plate ECO CAR and the rear end plastered, I mean literally covered, with bumper stickers like "Think Green!" and "Love Your Mother Earth" and "Recycle" and shit like that. Note: They are called bumper stickers. Think about it. Bumper. Stickers.
Let me be clear about bumper stickers. I myself have a bumper sticker. ONE bumper sticker. It says "Family Farms - YES, Factory Farms - NO". I am from the Midwest and this is something I believe in very deeply. It is not something I follow very well, because I live in a city and shop at a chain grocery store that I guarantee does not carry local farm produce and the local meat at the farmer's market is too damn expensive. I like my bumper sticker and its message a lot, but I feel badly I don't follow it very well and it looks stupid on my car. Also, when I drive like an asshole I am afraid people are thinking "That girl just cut me off! Well, no way am I ever going to support local farms if all the local farm assholes act like that!" This is also the main reason I don't have any derby bumper stickers on my car. That and I like to be anonymous. Especially in my current line of work.
So, my own guilt about bumper sticker hypocrisy aside, I firmly believe the only bumper stickers that belong on cars are the ones that say things like "Honk if You Love Jesus", "My Boss is a Jewish Carpenter", "My President is Charlton Heston", and "Jesus Loves You, Everyone Else Thinks You're an Asshole". Or, any bumper sticker from a national park / landmark or commemorating a trip (a trip you took in your car, for all you asses who put those oval-shaped country stickers on your car to brag about the places you've been, like "UK". Oh really, how was the drive there?)
This is because those acceptable bumper stickers (see above) give you a good chuckle and a warning about the people who are driving the car. "Whoa, those people are a little crazy, I will just stay in this other lane". Or "Whoa, that guy is an NRA fanatic, I will not piss him off by riding on his tail". The same could be argued for other bumper stickers, I guess, but I'm not sure that "Goddess Power" gives me a good idea of how someone is going to drive.
The second car in the parking lot was a Honda Civic with the license plate NV MY MPG. That one really put me over the top. I was fuming so badly I missed the "Pro Life" bumper sticker. Luckily the hubster had the wherewithal to point it out, which stopped my fuming because my brain was wrapping around itself attempting to fathom the sort of person who is smug about being environmentally friendly but wants to oppress women. Unless they were just bragging about the MPG, in which case I am not surprised.
My other beef with bumper stickers is that they are pointless and, like car alarms, probably do more harm than good. When was the last time you were driving behind someone, read a bumper sticker on their car, and said, "My god, how can I have been so ignorant! It's all so clear to me now! My life will never be the same!" NOW, how many times were you driving behind someone, read a bumper sticker on their car, and wanted to run them off the road / follow them home and punch them in the face? More times than the first one, I'm willing to bet.
Add to that the number of people who are dumb enough to drive around with beer slogans, Grateful Dead, Bob Marley, and/or pot leaf stickers on their cars- yeah, I bet that makes your interaction with the police much more pleasant when you get pulled over.
I know that Americans spend more time in their cars than any other nation on the planet*
*completely unfounded unscientific claim
They already serve as a phone booth, stereo system, mobile food eatery, and daycare system, do they really need to be a billboard, too? Let's all do our part to make this a more beautiful America - just say NO to bumper stickers.
This post does not apply to a certain friend with 1 homemade bumper sticker "I *heart* cock". Keep up the good work.
Hooker with a Heart of Gold
aka, "the Pretty Woman Story"
After my first post about whores, I came across another one. Goodness, they certainly seem to be coming out of the woodwork today. But THIS whore has seen the error of his ways and wants to reform. He never wanted to be a whore, anyway, but what options are there for aging Army vets in this crazy, mixed up world?
Or, he's just a vindictive whore who has changed his tune now that he's been replaced by the new, younger, less inhibited guy on the block. Poor upper class white men. When will the cycle end!?!
(Again, parts that say "whore" are in bold type)
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/11/washington/11surgeon.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin
WASHINGTON, July 10 — Former Surgeon General Richard H. Carmona told a Congressional panel Tuesday that top Bush administration officials repeatedly tried to weaken or suppress important public health reports because of political considerations.
The administration, Dr. Carmona said, would not allow him to speak or issue reports about stem cells, emergency contraception, sex education, or prison, mental and global health issues. Top officials delayed for years and tried to “water down” a landmark report on secondhand smoke, he said. Released last year, the report concluded that even brief exposure to cigarette smoke could cause immediate harm.
Dr. Carmona said he was ordered to mention President Bush three times on every page of his speeches. He also said he was asked to make speeches to support Republican political candidates and to attend political briefings.
And administration officials even discouraged him from attending the Special Olympics because, he said, of that charitable organization’s longtime ties to a “prominent family” that he refused to name.
“I was specifically told by a senior person, ‘Why would you want to help those people?’ ” Dr. Carmona said.
The Special Olympics is one of the nation’s premier charitable organizations to benefit disabled people, and the Kennedys have long been deeply involved in it.
When asked after the hearing if that “prominent family” was the Kennedys, Dr. Carmona responded, “You said it. I didn’t.”
In response to lawmakers’ questions, Dr. Carmona refused to name specific people in the administration who had instructed him to put political considerations over scientific ones. He said, however, that they included assistant secretaries of health and human services as well as top political appointees outside the department of health.
Dr. Carmona did offer to provide the names to the committee in a private meeting.
(highest bidder....)
Bill Hall, a spokesman for the Department of Health and Human Services, said that the administration disagreed with Dr. Carmona’s statements. “It has always been this administration’s position that public health policy should be rooted in sound science,” Mr. Hall said.
Emily Lawrimore, a White House spokeswoman, said the surgeon general “is the leading voice for the health of all Americans.”
“It’s disappointing to us,” Ms. Lawrimore said, “if he failed to use this position to the fullest extent in advocating for policies he thought were in the best interests of the nation.”
Dr. Carmona is one of a growing list of present and former administration officials to charge that politics often trumped science within what had previously been largely nonpartisan government health and scientific agencies.
Dr. Carmona, 57, served as surgeon general for one four-year term, from 2002 to 2006, but was not asked to serve a second. Before being nominated, he was in the Army Special Forces, earned two purple hearts in the Vietnam War and was a trauma surgeon and leader of the Pima County, Ariz., SWAT team. He received a bachelor’s degree, in biology and chemistry, in 1976 and his M.D. in 1979, both from the University of California, San Francisco. He is now vice chairman of Canyon Ranch, a resort and residential development company.
His testimony comes two days before the Senate confirmation hearings of his designated successor, Dr. James W. Holsinger Jr. Two members of the Senate health committee have already declared their opposition to Dr. Holsinger’s nomination because of a 1991 report he wrote that concluded that homosexual sex was unnatural and unhealthy. Dr. Carmona’s testimony may further complicate Dr. Holsinger’s nomination.
In his testimony, Dr. Carmona said that at first he was so politically naïve that he had little idea how inappropriate the administration’s actions were. He eventually consulted six previous surgeons general, Republican and Democratic, and all agreed, he said, that he faced more political interference than they had.
On issue after issue, Dr. Carmona said, the administration made decisions about important public health issues based solely on political considerations, not scientific ones.
“I was told to stay away from those because we’ve already decided which way we want to go,” Dr. Carmona said.
He described attending a meeting of top officials in which the subject of global warming was discussed. The officials concluded that global warming was a liberal cause and dismissed it, he said.
“And I said to myself, ‘I realize why I’ve been invited. They want me to discuss the science because they obviously don’t understand the science,’ ” he said. “I was never invited back.”
Dr. Carmona testified under oath at a hearing before the House Oversight and Government Reform Committee headed by Representative Henry A. Waxman, Democrat of California. The topic was strengthening the office of the surgeon general. Dr. C. Everett Koop, surgeon general in the Reagan administration, and Dr. David Satcher, surgeon general during the Clinton administration and the first year of the administration of George W. Bush, also testified.
Each complained about political interference and the declining status of the office. Dr. Satcher said that the Clinton administration discouraged him from issuing a report showing that needle-exchange programs were effective in reducing disease. He released the report anyway.
Dr. Koop, said he had been discouraged by top officials in the Reagan administration from discussing the AIDS crisis. He did so anyway. (Bravo, non-whores!)
All three men urged major changes in the way the surgeon general is chosen and the way the office is financed.
After my first post about whores, I came across another one. Goodness, they certainly seem to be coming out of the woodwork today. But THIS whore has seen the error of his ways and wants to reform. He never wanted to be a whore, anyway, but what options are there for aging Army vets in this crazy, mixed up world?
Or, he's just a vindictive whore who has changed his tune now that he's been replaced by the new, younger, less inhibited guy on the block. Poor upper class white men. When will the cycle end!?!
(Again, parts that say "whore" are in bold type)
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/11/washington/11surgeon.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin
WASHINGTON, July 10 — Former Surgeon General Richard H. Carmona told a Congressional panel Tuesday that top Bush administration officials repeatedly tried to weaken or suppress important public health reports because of political considerations.
The administration, Dr. Carmona said, would not allow him to speak or issue reports about stem cells, emergency contraception, sex education, or prison, mental and global health issues. Top officials delayed for years and tried to “water down” a landmark report on secondhand smoke, he said. Released last year, the report concluded that even brief exposure to cigarette smoke could cause immediate harm.
Dr. Carmona said he was ordered to mention President Bush three times on every page of his speeches. He also said he was asked to make speeches to support Republican political candidates and to attend political briefings.
And administration officials even discouraged him from attending the Special Olympics because, he said, of that charitable organization’s longtime ties to a “prominent family” that he refused to name.
“I was specifically told by a senior person, ‘Why would you want to help those people?’ ” Dr. Carmona said.
The Special Olympics is one of the nation’s premier charitable organizations to benefit disabled people, and the Kennedys have long been deeply involved in it.
When asked after the hearing if that “prominent family” was the Kennedys, Dr. Carmona responded, “You said it. I didn’t.”
In response to lawmakers’ questions, Dr. Carmona refused to name specific people in the administration who had instructed him to put political considerations over scientific ones. He said, however, that they included assistant secretaries of health and human services as well as top political appointees outside the department of health.
Dr. Carmona did offer to provide the names to the committee in a private meeting.
(highest bidder....)
Bill Hall, a spokesman for the Department of Health and Human Services, said that the administration disagreed with Dr. Carmona’s statements. “It has always been this administration’s position that public health policy should be rooted in sound science,” Mr. Hall said.
Emily Lawrimore, a White House spokeswoman, said the surgeon general “is the leading voice for the health of all Americans.”
“It’s disappointing to us,” Ms. Lawrimore said, “if he failed to use this position to the fullest extent in advocating for policies he thought were in the best interests of the nation.”
Dr. Carmona is one of a growing list of present and former administration officials to charge that politics often trumped science within what had previously been largely nonpartisan government health and scientific agencies.
Dr. Carmona, 57, served as surgeon general for one four-year term, from 2002 to 2006, but was not asked to serve a second. Before being nominated, he was in the Army Special Forces, earned two purple hearts in the Vietnam War and was a trauma surgeon and leader of the Pima County, Ariz., SWAT team. He received a bachelor’s degree, in biology and chemistry, in 1976 and his M.D. in 1979, both from the University of California, San Francisco. He is now vice chairman of Canyon Ranch, a resort and residential development company.
His testimony comes two days before the Senate confirmation hearings of his designated successor, Dr. James W. Holsinger Jr. Two members of the Senate health committee have already declared their opposition to Dr. Holsinger’s nomination because of a 1991 report he wrote that concluded that homosexual sex was unnatural and unhealthy. Dr. Carmona’s testimony may further complicate Dr. Holsinger’s nomination.
In his testimony, Dr. Carmona said that at first he was so politically naïve that he had little idea how inappropriate the administration’s actions were. He eventually consulted six previous surgeons general, Republican and Democratic, and all agreed, he said, that he faced more political interference than they had.
On issue after issue, Dr. Carmona said, the administration made decisions about important public health issues based solely on political considerations, not scientific ones.
“I was told to stay away from those because we’ve already decided which way we want to go,” Dr. Carmona said.
He described attending a meeting of top officials in which the subject of global warming was discussed. The officials concluded that global warming was a liberal cause and dismissed it, he said.
“And I said to myself, ‘I realize why I’ve been invited. They want me to discuss the science because they obviously don’t understand the science,’ ” he said. “I was never invited back.”
Dr. Carmona testified under oath at a hearing before the House Oversight and Government Reform Committee headed by Representative Henry A. Waxman, Democrat of California. The topic was strengthening the office of the surgeon general. Dr. C. Everett Koop, surgeon general in the Reagan administration, and Dr. David Satcher, surgeon general during the Clinton administration and the first year of the administration of George W. Bush, also testified.
Each complained about political interference and the declining status of the office. Dr. Satcher said that the Clinton administration discouraged him from issuing a report showing that needle-exchange programs were effective in reducing disease. He released the report anyway.
Dr. Koop, said he had been discouraged by top officials in the Reagan administration from discussing the AIDS crisis. He did so anyway. (Bravo, non-whores!)
All three men urged major changes in the way the surgeon general is chosen and the way the office is financed.
A Whore for the White House
Today all the media coverage of the Senate Judiciary Committee's "interview" session with Sara M. Taylor, former White House political director, about the firings of U.S. Attorneys has reminded me of one thing: being a whore. And it made me wonder, what would you be a whore for?
(And by "you", I mean "me", not "you, the reader." In my head I call myself "you", not "me"... as in, "You better check yourself before you wreck yourself, R." Speaking of, I had the best ever description of the phrase "check yourself before you wreck yourself" at a 4th of July party- some guy there asked me what it meant and I described it as "take an accounting of your present behavior before it leads to undesirable consequences." But I digress.)
There are a lot of things I would whore myself out for. Of course by "whoring myself out" I mean metaphorically, not literally. I consider doing things that are uncomfortable, dangerous, time consuming, against your better judgement, or otherwise compromise your moral standing to be "whoring yourself out".
Derby, for one. I am pretty sure I have been doing that for about a year now. My job, for awhile. But only until I realise I am doing it, then I try to stop. But that's about it. And definitely, DEFINITELY, not the White House. I don't care whose White House. Poor Sara, on the other hand, has been used up faster than a $5.00 hooker. Don't believe me? Read for yourself (I put the phrases that say "whore" in bold) :
From http://blog.washingtonpost.com/capitolbriefing/2007/07/taylor_walking_fine_line_in_te.html
"I have a very clear letter from Mr. Fielding," Taylor began at 10:40 a.m., pointing to the letter from White House Counsel Fred Fielding that has "directed" Taylor not to testify about internal deliberations and external communications while she worked in the West Wing.
Then Judiciary Chairman Patrick Leahy (D-Vt.) tried to ask about any meetings with the president on the prosecutorial firings. "Again, I have a letter," she said. Was she aware of any decision documents signed by the president, Leahy inquired. "Again, I've been asked not to comment," Taylor replied.
And so it's going this morning at a packed hearing inside the tiny hearing room of the Judiciary Committee. Taylor is trying to thread the legal needle of honoring the committee's subpoena commanding her appearance to testify about the matter, but at the same time honoring Bush and Fielding's broad request that she not answer specific questions that they believe would violate executive privilege.
Fact-based questions are actually fair game, not something that can be shuttered away by the privilege letter. So, a question asking if she ever spoke to someone about a matter is ostensibly answerable, but what the contents of the conversation were are off limits.
In the first hour of questions, Taylor cited the letter at least a dozen times. But, after a 30-minute break for a vote on an Iraq war amendment, Leahy reconvened the meeting and reminded her about what sort of questions she could and couldn't answer. At that point he asked the same three questions about Bush again, and she realized she had to answer: and the answers were 'no' to all three, she'd never spoken to Bush or been in any meetings with him about the U.S. attorney issue, nor were there any presidential signing documents that she's aware of.
It's a tough act for Taylor today. In reality, she's under no obligation to honor the White House request, she faces no possible sanction if she answered every question openly and truthfully and there's no legal fallout for her. (If presidential claims of executive privilege were iron clad regarding former White House staff, the nonfiction aisles of bookstores would be barren, with no aides-turned-authors writing at length about their Oval Office meetings.) However, for someone who is currently without a job, she might hurt her career advancement if she were to spill all the beans about all her conversations with the president, undercutting the idea that she's a loyal Republican.
"I admire his unflinching devotion to do what he always believes is right for the country," Taylor said in her opening statement.
Democrats had been hoping she would testify about the role White House advisers -- particularly her immediate boss, top political adviser Karl Rove -- played in crafting the plan to fire the prosecutors. E-mails between Taylor and Justice Department officials showed her political office was involved in the run-up to the firings.
She has huddled for about a half-dozen sidebars with her attorney, W. Neil Eggleston, who has been given the unusual privilege of sitting next to his client at the witness table, discussing whether those questions fall under the claims of the Fielding letter.
Ah, "It's a tough act for Taylor today", indeed, Washington Post.
From where I sit, all that whoring for a bunch of middle-aged Republican assholes who make you their scape goat would cost a lot more than the pay from her 2-bit job and a footnote in the annals of U.S. history, but maybe I just have more self-esteem.
(And by "you", I mean "me", not "you, the reader." In my head I call myself "you", not "me"... as in, "You better check yourself before you wreck yourself, R." Speaking of, I had the best ever description of the phrase "check yourself before you wreck yourself" at a 4th of July party- some guy there asked me what it meant and I described it as "take an accounting of your present behavior before it leads to undesirable consequences." But I digress.)
There are a lot of things I would whore myself out for. Of course by "whoring myself out" I mean metaphorically, not literally. I consider doing things that are uncomfortable, dangerous, time consuming, against your better judgement, or otherwise compromise your moral standing to be "whoring yourself out".
Derby, for one. I am pretty sure I have been doing that for about a year now. My job, for awhile. But only until I realise I am doing it, then I try to stop. But that's about it. And definitely, DEFINITELY, not the White House. I don't care whose White House. Poor Sara, on the other hand, has been used up faster than a $5.00 hooker. Don't believe me? Read for yourself (I put the phrases that say "whore" in bold) :
From http://blog.washingtonpost.com/capitolbriefing/2007/07/taylor_walking_fine_line_in_te.html
"I have a very clear letter from Mr. Fielding," Taylor began at 10:40 a.m., pointing to the letter from White House Counsel Fred Fielding that has "directed" Taylor not to testify about internal deliberations and external communications while she worked in the West Wing.
Then Judiciary Chairman Patrick Leahy (D-Vt.) tried to ask about any meetings with the president on the prosecutorial firings. "Again, I have a letter," she said. Was she aware of any decision documents signed by the president, Leahy inquired. "Again, I've been asked not to comment," Taylor replied.
And so it's going this morning at a packed hearing inside the tiny hearing room of the Judiciary Committee. Taylor is trying to thread the legal needle of honoring the committee's subpoena commanding her appearance to testify about the matter, but at the same time honoring Bush and Fielding's broad request that she not answer specific questions that they believe would violate executive privilege.
Fact-based questions are actually fair game, not something that can be shuttered away by the privilege letter. So, a question asking if she ever spoke to someone about a matter is ostensibly answerable, but what the contents of the conversation were are off limits.
In the first hour of questions, Taylor cited the letter at least a dozen times. But, after a 30-minute break for a vote on an Iraq war amendment, Leahy reconvened the meeting and reminded her about what sort of questions she could and couldn't answer. At that point he asked the same three questions about Bush again, and she realized she had to answer: and the answers were 'no' to all three, she'd never spoken to Bush or been in any meetings with him about the U.S. attorney issue, nor were there any presidential signing documents that she's aware of.
It's a tough act for Taylor today. In reality, she's under no obligation to honor the White House request, she faces no possible sanction if she answered every question openly and truthfully and there's no legal fallout for her. (If presidential claims of executive privilege were iron clad regarding former White House staff, the nonfiction aisles of bookstores would be barren, with no aides-turned-authors writing at length about their Oval Office meetings.) However, for someone who is currently without a job, she might hurt her career advancement if she were to spill all the beans about all her conversations with the president, undercutting the idea that she's a loyal Republican.
"I admire his unflinching devotion to do what he always believes is right for the country," Taylor said in her opening statement.
Democrats had been hoping she would testify about the role White House advisers -- particularly her immediate boss, top political adviser Karl Rove -- played in crafting the plan to fire the prosecutors. E-mails between Taylor and Justice Department officials showed her political office was involved in the run-up to the firings.
She has huddled for about a half-dozen sidebars with her attorney, W. Neil Eggleston, who has been given the unusual privilege of sitting next to his client at the witness table, discussing whether those questions fall under the claims of the Fielding letter.
Ah, "It's a tough act for Taylor today", indeed, Washington Post.
From where I sit, all that whoring for a bunch of middle-aged Republican assholes who make you their scape goat would cost a lot more than the pay from her 2-bit job and a footnote in the annals of U.S. history, but maybe I just have more self-esteem.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Sad But True
Paris Hilton spent more time in jail than Lewis "Scooter" Libby.
Let's review the charges:
Happy 4th of July, everyone!
Let's review the charges:
*Libby was found guilty of two counts of perjury (lying to a grand jury), one count of making a false statement to the FBI and one of obstruction of justice.
He was found not guilty on a separate count of making a false statement to the FBI.
*Paris pleaded no contest in January to reckless driving stemming from a Sept. 7 arrest in Hollywood. Police said she appeared intoxicated and failed a field sobriety test. She had a blood-alcohol level of .08 percent.She was sentenced to 36 months probation, alcohol education and $1,500 in fines.
Two other traffic stops and failure to enroll in a mandated alcohol education program are what landed the socialite back in court.
Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputies stopped Hilton on Feb. 27 and charged her with violating her probation. Police said she was pulled over at about 11 p.m. after authorities saw the car speeding with its headlights off. Hilton was also required to enroll in an alcohol education program by Feb. 12. As of April 17, she had not enrolled.
Happy 4th of July, everyone!
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
What Should I Do WIth My Life?
Let's take a fun poll!
Q: What the hell should I do with my life?
(Note: Anything that involves moving to another country is currently not an option as I don't have a valid passport. )
A) Keep your current job. You don't like it and it's a lot of stress, but it pays well.
B) Go back to school! Sure you have no clue what you'd study and you'd just end up in a lot of debt, but at least you get to do something stimulating and rewarding.
C) Move to Mexico. The weather's nicer and your Spanish skills would get a much needed brush-up.
D) Quit your job, take the vacation you haven't had in 4 years, come back to town and work at a grocery store.
E) Waste away in an existential funk - who cares about you and your job? None of it means anything, anyway.
F) Pop out a couple kids. You'll be too busy to notice you're miserable and by the time you do it'll be too late anyway.
Q: What the hell should I do with my life?
(Note: Anything that involves moving to another country is currently not an option as I don't have a valid passport. )
A) Keep your current job. You don't like it and it's a lot of stress, but it pays well.
B) Go back to school! Sure you have no clue what you'd study and you'd just end up in a lot of debt, but at least you get to do something stimulating and rewarding.
C) Move to Mexico. The weather's nicer and your Spanish skills would get a much needed brush-up.
D) Quit your job, take the vacation you haven't had in 4 years, come back to town and work at a grocery store.
E) Waste away in an existential funk - who cares about you and your job? None of it means anything, anyway.
F) Pop out a couple kids. You'll be too busy to notice you're miserable and by the time you do it'll be too late anyway.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
The wrong week to stop sniffin' glue.
So I had my weekly meeting with all my supervisors / over-seers / handlers today.
It's getting harder and harder for me to hide my sarcasm and control my facial expressions at these meetings.
For example, I am behind on some re-certification paperwork that needs to be done annually because it fell by the wayside in the process of getting rid of the old property manager and installing me. And because I am only here 24 hours a week and am still trying to figure out how to do this job. Also, I am trying to process paperwork for POTENTIAL residents first, as our occupancy is way down. Low occupancy looks bad to our investors and the city, and everyone else we are counting on for big bucks to bail the property out of debt.
Also also, huge amounts of my time have been wasted trying to sort out the whole "misappropriated funds" issue and various other problems created by the old property manager.
While brainstorming how I can catch up on said paperwork, my supervisor suggested I take the paperwork with me to the other job I do for the agency and do it there as overtime hours. OR, HOW ABOUT THIS: YOU COULD JUST GIVE ME MORE HOURS HERE, THEN YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO PAY ME OVER TIME!
It became increasingly hard for me to not voice my displeasure when the executive director was going on and on about re-decorating the office. YOU CAN'T AFFORD TO PAY ME TO BE HERE FOR MORE THAN 24 HOURS A WEEK, WE CAN'T PAY ANY OF THE PROPERTY'S BILLS, BUT YOU WANT TO SPEND HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS ON NEW OFFICE FURNITURE AND RE-PAINTING THE OFFICE.
My head hurts.
To top it off, the old property management company, who is still handling all of the accounting, applied half of all the current residents' security deposits to their accounts last week. This is to help them pay off their back balance, and I don't have a problem with it, but what I DO have a problem with is the company doing it before the tenants signed a consent form allowing them to do the transfer. The tenants all got a letter in the mail TODAY telling them to come to the office and sign a form if they wanted the money transferred to their account, not knowing it has all ready been done. Some of the tenants came into the office and DIDN'T want it done, so now the company has to transfer that money BACK off the tenants' accounts to their security deposit. WHY NOT JUST WAIT UNTIL AFTER WE SENT OUT THE LETTERS? IT WOULD HAVE BEEN MUCH LESS WORK, NOT TO MENTION , YOU KNOW, LEGAL.
Why did I stop drinking this month?
It's getting harder and harder for me to hide my sarcasm and control my facial expressions at these meetings.
For example, I am behind on some re-certification paperwork that needs to be done annually because it fell by the wayside in the process of getting rid of the old property manager and installing me. And because I am only here 24 hours a week and am still trying to figure out how to do this job. Also, I am trying to process paperwork for POTENTIAL residents first, as our occupancy is way down. Low occupancy looks bad to our investors and the city, and everyone else we are counting on for big bucks to bail the property out of debt.
Also also, huge amounts of my time have been wasted trying to sort out the whole "misappropriated funds" issue and various other problems created by the old property manager.
While brainstorming how I can catch up on said paperwork, my supervisor suggested I take the paperwork with me to the other job I do for the agency and do it there as overtime hours. OR, HOW ABOUT THIS: YOU COULD JUST GIVE ME MORE HOURS HERE, THEN YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO PAY ME OVER TIME!
It became increasingly hard for me to not voice my displeasure when the executive director was going on and on about re-decorating the office. YOU CAN'T AFFORD TO PAY ME TO BE HERE FOR MORE THAN 24 HOURS A WEEK, WE CAN'T PAY ANY OF THE PROPERTY'S BILLS, BUT YOU WANT TO SPEND HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS ON NEW OFFICE FURNITURE AND RE-PAINTING THE OFFICE.
My head hurts.
To top it off, the old property management company, who is still handling all of the accounting, applied half of all the current residents' security deposits to their accounts last week. This is to help them pay off their back balance, and I don't have a problem with it, but what I DO have a problem with is the company doing it before the tenants signed a consent form allowing them to do the transfer. The tenants all got a letter in the mail TODAY telling them to come to the office and sign a form if they wanted the money transferred to their account, not knowing it has all ready been done. Some of the tenants came into the office and DIDN'T want it done, so now the company has to transfer that money BACK off the tenants' accounts to their security deposit. WHY NOT JUST WAIT UNTIL AFTER WE SENT OUT THE LETTERS? IT WOULD HAVE BEEN MUCH LESS WORK, NOT TO MENTION , YOU KNOW, LEGAL.
Why did I stop drinking this month?
Saturday, June 16, 2007
R. Recommends
Funnyordie.com-
be sure to check out:
David Blaine Street Magic 2
http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/1050
David Blaine is dumb. Also, good camera work.
Stick Magnetic Ribbons on Your S.U.V.
http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/222
A scathing song about people who stick magnetic ribbons on their gas-guzzling cars to the tune of "Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree". Not work appropriate!
Soup de Jour (by JoeyandDavid)
Anything by JoeyandDavid, actually.
http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/3444
If I had the balls to quit my job and make web-movies, I like to think I would be JoeyandDavid.
be sure to check out:
David Blaine Street Magic 2
http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/1050
David Blaine is dumb. Also, good camera work.
Stick Magnetic Ribbons on Your S.U.V.
http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/222
A scathing song about people who stick magnetic ribbons on their gas-guzzling cars to the tune of "Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree". Not work appropriate!
Soup de Jour (by JoeyandDavid)
Anything by JoeyandDavid, actually.
http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/3444
If I had the balls to quit my job and make web-movies, I like to think I would be JoeyandDavid.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Kids
I made mention before of the children who follow me around when I am walking the property. I sort of collect them as I go, so by the time I go from 1 end of the property to the other and back to my office I feel like a mother dog with a litter of pups hanging off of her.
These kids don't follow me around because I like kids or I invite them along, or because I am nice to them, they follow me around because they are STARVED for attention.
Saturdays here are the worst: if the parents work they have 1 of 2 choices: send their kids outside unsupervised and shut them out of the building until they get home, or leave them home alone in the apartment unsupervised. This is because they don't have jobs that pay them enough to be able to afford childcare.
The parents that don't work send their kids outside to play unsupervised so they can watch TV or do drugs or sleep off their hangover.
The kids are the only people here for whom I have any sympathy. What hope do they have for a better life? Right now they are young and impressionable- and all their little brains get is yelling, swearing, adult TV, and adult role models who don't work, commit crimes, do drugs, drop out of school, and have 3 kids by the age of 18. No wonder the cycle is so hard to break.
All these kids get is negative attention, so as soon as you say hello to 1 little kid playing on the hot asphalt on a Saturday afternoon you have a leech stuck to your leg for the rest of the day. In order to get any work done, I have to be strict with them. Which is hard, because all they want to do is "help" you. I will let them come into the office and help me with one thing (like "help me with this sign" which usually means they end up drawing a picture on the back of scrap paper while I make the sign) then I make them leave.
I took 1 little girl (we'll call her "Jane") to a neighborhood festival last weekend - it was 2 blocks away in a park and I was going in order to hand out fliers for the apartment complex. They had free food, live music, basketball games, and an art booth and bouncy house for kids. The festival was from noon - 5 pm, and after Jane bugged me all morning in the office I told Jane's mother about it and gave her a flier with the information, hoping they would go to the festival and Jane would leave me alone to get work done. But mom was too busy sitting in her new boyfriend's SUV in the parking lot listening to music to take her daughter there. Mom is unemployed, has used up her lifetime supply of public benefits (like welfare, etc.) and lives with HER mom.
I budgeted an hour of my day to go to the fair, so I told Jane I would take her with me when I went, the last hour of my work day. I told her to come back at 3 pm and we would go. Of course she spent the whole afternoon running to my office every 10 minutes asking "Is it 3 o'clock yet!?"
Finally it was, so I ask Jane's mom if I can drive us there, and she says sure. We drive to the festival, and after an hour of bouncy house, playground equipment, a free stuffed animal from the police department, and a sucker, I had to pry Jane away because she was having a great time and even ran into some of her friends from school. It was killing me to go. I told her to ask her mom to take her back, and drilled her on the location. She couldn't remember the street name to save her soul, and I knew her mom couldn't find it. The park is only 2 blocks away, close enough to walk, but not for a kid without an adult. She didn't get to go back, of course, and every time I have seen her since she asks "can we go to that fair again?"
Man, people suck.
Also - I don't care if you don't want to take care of kids, but if that's the case, then DON'T HAVE THEM. Birth control looks spendy now, but it's WAY cheaper than a kid, trust me.
These kids don't follow me around because I like kids or I invite them along, or because I am nice to them, they follow me around because they are STARVED for attention.
Saturdays here are the worst: if the parents work they have 1 of 2 choices: send their kids outside unsupervised and shut them out of the building until they get home, or leave them home alone in the apartment unsupervised. This is because they don't have jobs that pay them enough to be able to afford childcare.
The parents that don't work send their kids outside to play unsupervised so they can watch TV or do drugs or sleep off their hangover.
The kids are the only people here for whom I have any sympathy. What hope do they have for a better life? Right now they are young and impressionable- and all their little brains get is yelling, swearing, adult TV, and adult role models who don't work, commit crimes, do drugs, drop out of school, and have 3 kids by the age of 18. No wonder the cycle is so hard to break.
All these kids get is negative attention, so as soon as you say hello to 1 little kid playing on the hot asphalt on a Saturday afternoon you have a leech stuck to your leg for the rest of the day. In order to get any work done, I have to be strict with them. Which is hard, because all they want to do is "help" you. I will let them come into the office and help me with one thing (like "help me with this sign" which usually means they end up drawing a picture on the back of scrap paper while I make the sign) then I make them leave.
I took 1 little girl (we'll call her "Jane") to a neighborhood festival last weekend - it was 2 blocks away in a park and I was going in order to hand out fliers for the apartment complex. They had free food, live music, basketball games, and an art booth and bouncy house for kids. The festival was from noon - 5 pm, and after Jane bugged me all morning in the office I told Jane's mother about it and gave her a flier with the information, hoping they would go to the festival and Jane would leave me alone to get work done. But mom was too busy sitting in her new boyfriend's SUV in the parking lot listening to music to take her daughter there. Mom is unemployed, has used up her lifetime supply of public benefits (like welfare, etc.) and lives with HER mom.
I budgeted an hour of my day to go to the fair, so I told Jane I would take her with me when I went, the last hour of my work day. I told her to come back at 3 pm and we would go. Of course she spent the whole afternoon running to my office every 10 minutes asking "Is it 3 o'clock yet!?"
Finally it was, so I ask Jane's mom if I can drive us there, and she says sure. We drive to the festival, and after an hour of bouncy house, playground equipment, a free stuffed animal from the police department, and a sucker, I had to pry Jane away because she was having a great time and even ran into some of her friends from school. It was killing me to go. I told her to ask her mom to take her back, and drilled her on the location. She couldn't remember the street name to save her soul, and I knew her mom couldn't find it. The park is only 2 blocks away, close enough to walk, but not for a kid without an adult. She didn't get to go back, of course, and every time I have seen her since she asks "can we go to that fair again?"
Man, people suck.
Also - I don't care if you don't want to take care of kids, but if that's the case, then DON'T HAVE THEM. Birth control looks spendy now, but it's WAY cheaper than a kid, trust me.
Application frenzy
Not much new so far this week, which is refreshing. More tenants moving out, but for once I am collecting applications like crazy (5 today alone). I sent out a big mailing to all the social service agencies in town, which means they are referring people left and right.
This is good, but a lot of these people won't get approved for an apartment here due to our strict screening criteria. This is frustrating on one hand, because the applications take a huge amount of time to process, not to mention the time I spend showing apartments and helping people fill out the application. I tell people the screening criteria up front -hell, they get a copy of it- but of course if they don't meet it they don't tell you. I hate working on an application for 2 weeks to find out the person won't qualify. On the other hand, at least it gives me hope of renting an apartment, which I have only done ONCE my entire time here. Also, I got smart enough to not let people fill out the application until they bring me the money for it first. Live and learn.
Sometimes I want to tell the people referred from certain agencies to run for it. For example, if you are being referred from any sort of drug or prisoner rehabilitation program, this is probably not the neighborhood for you. Temptation is everywhere.
I have problems controlling my facial expressions. If someone says something I find offensive, don't agree with, or think is just plain stupid, it's very hard for me to keep that thought from expressing itself on my face. This is something that does not work to my advantage in professional situations, like meetings. Or in situations like this....
One of the women who came in to fill out an application today was referred by an organization that serves women who are dealing with domestic violence. She asked about adding people to the lease, "like a roommate". No problem I told her. They just need to come in and fill out an application and if we approve them we put them on the lease. "What about a boyfriend?" she asked. "Umm, same deal", I say.
My brain was telling my face to not make any sudden movements, but seriously, you're being referred to me from a domestic violence shelter and you're asking about adding your currently incarcerated but soon to be released abuser* onto your lease? Oy.
*my assumption. She didn't SAY her boyfriend was currently incarcerated, or that he was the one abusing her, but come on. She still had a black eye. Did she find a new non-abusive squeeze that fast? Miracles happen, but not in this neighborhood.
This is good, but a lot of these people won't get approved for an apartment here due to our strict screening criteria. This is frustrating on one hand, because the applications take a huge amount of time to process, not to mention the time I spend showing apartments and helping people fill out the application. I tell people the screening criteria up front -hell, they get a copy of it- but of course if they don't meet it they don't tell you. I hate working on an application for 2 weeks to find out the person won't qualify. On the other hand, at least it gives me hope of renting an apartment, which I have only done ONCE my entire time here. Also, I got smart enough to not let people fill out the application until they bring me the money for it first. Live and learn.
Sometimes I want to tell the people referred from certain agencies to run for it. For example, if you are being referred from any sort of drug or prisoner rehabilitation program, this is probably not the neighborhood for you. Temptation is everywhere.
I have problems controlling my facial expressions. If someone says something I find offensive, don't agree with, or think is just plain stupid, it's very hard for me to keep that thought from expressing itself on my face. This is something that does not work to my advantage in professional situations, like meetings. Or in situations like this....
One of the women who came in to fill out an application today was referred by an organization that serves women who are dealing with domestic violence. She asked about adding people to the lease, "like a roommate". No problem I told her. They just need to come in and fill out an application and if we approve them we put them on the lease. "What about a boyfriend?" she asked. "Umm, same deal", I say.
My brain was telling my face to not make any sudden movements, but seriously, you're being referred to me from a domestic violence shelter and you're asking about adding your currently incarcerated but soon to be released abuser* onto your lease? Oy.
*my assumption. She didn't SAY her boyfriend was currently incarcerated, or that he was the one abusing her, but come on. She still had a black eye. Did she find a new non-abusive squeeze that fast? Miracles happen, but not in this neighborhood.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
going to hell
I am pretty sure I was headed for hell all ready, but today I issued a 28 day notice to a pregnant woman. A HIGH-RISK PREGNANCY pregnant woman.
For those of you not in the biz, a 28 day notice means you have 28 days to GET OUT. To be fair, I'm giving her like a month and a half, not just 28 days. It also means she won't have an eviction on her record, we're just not renewing her lease.
And it's all for letting her (probably unemployed) baby daddy live in her apartment. He has a nice long rap sheet: damage to private property, driving while revoked, underage drinking... oh yes, that's right, these two love bird law breakers are 23 and 20 years old, respectively.
What were YOU doing at age 20? Fathering children while jumping bail, driving without a license, drinking underage, and damaging private property? If so, have I got an apartment for you...
For those of you not in the biz, a 28 day notice means you have 28 days to GET OUT. To be fair, I'm giving her like a month and a half, not just 28 days. It also means she won't have an eviction on her record, we're just not renewing her lease.
And it's all for letting her (probably unemployed) baby daddy live in her apartment. He has a nice long rap sheet: damage to private property, driving while revoked, underage drinking... oh yes, that's right, these two love bird law breakers are 23 and 20 years old, respectively.
What were YOU doing at age 20? Fathering children while jumping bail, driving without a license, drinking underage, and damaging private property? If so, have I got an apartment for you...
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Piss on the Stairs
That's it for today. Some "guests" of an illegal tenant got into a building and pissed on the stairs.
URINATED DOWN A STAIRWAY.
The maintenance lady has no sense of smell, which in many ways makes her the perfect maintenance person, but also means I had to walk over to the building and confirm the identity of the liquid on the stairs.
Also, I am trying to evict 3 people this month, all for letting people live with them who aren't on the lease.
Not surprisingly, these people I am trying to evict are all women who let dead-beat boyfriends/ baby daddies / grown sons live with them, but don't put them on the lease, and it's the men who cause all the problems (traffic, drugs, noise, damage, working on cars in the parking lots, etc.)
Seriously, I fucking DO NOT GET women sometimes. It's true everywhere else in my life and it's true here.
URINATED DOWN A STAIRWAY.
The maintenance lady has no sense of smell, which in many ways makes her the perfect maintenance person, but also means I had to walk over to the building and confirm the identity of the liquid on the stairs.
Also, I am trying to evict 3 people this month, all for letting people live with them who aren't on the lease.
Not surprisingly, these people I am trying to evict are all women who let dead-beat boyfriends/ baby daddies / grown sons live with them, but don't put them on the lease, and it's the men who cause all the problems (traffic, drugs, noise, damage, working on cars in the parking lots, etc.)
Seriously, I fucking DO NOT GET women sometimes. It's true everywhere else in my life and it's true here.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Revenge of the Biddies
From the police press release website. I couldn't resist putting this on here, as it's from the mall I used to work at:
That is CLASSIC. I would PAY to see a couple of middle aged ladies hanging out of a car while a purse snatcher drives around trying to throw them off like the Dukes of Hazard. That's one bad mamma-jamma, jabbing a guy with her keys, hitting him with the other hand, and trying to bite him.
I can see it all in my head and it's hilarious. What do you think other people in the parking lot were thinking? I can hear the conversation between the 2 sisters: "Madge! Grab the wheel! I'll get the purse!" "Bite him, Doris, bite him!"
When I moved to (insert big east coast city here), we had a self-defense class and the lady teaching it told us that if someone attacks you, you should fight back, because most likely the attacker will move on to an "easier" victim who won't fight back. This makes me question that assumption....
| Address | Mall (edited to protect the innocent, namely, me) |
| Arrested person/suspect | Male black, 17-22 years old, 6'00", 180 pounds, short hair, last seen wearing short sleeve yellow shirt, shorts, and sneakers |
| Victim/Injuries | 1. Female, 58 years old 2. Female, 55 years old |
| Details | On Saturday night, at 9:22 p.m. _____ Police responded to ____ Mall for a strong armed robbery. Two sisters reported that while talking in the parking lot they were accosted by a purse thief. After the suspect grabbed the women's purses they decided to chase. One jumped on the hood of the suspect's car (older model Chevy Beretta) , while the other dove into an open window. Eventually both were half way in the car with their legs dangling outside of it. One victim reports that she repeatedly jabbed the suspect in the neck with her keys, while punching him with her other hand. She also tried to bite him. Meanwhile her older sister tried to grab the steering wheel. While this was happening the suspect was driving in circles, hitting medians and curbs in an attempt to shake the sisters. Both did, in time, fall off, and were transported to a local hospital for treatment of cuts and bruises. One sister also sustained a broken ankle. Suspect vehicle has been recovered. Suspect is still at large. |
That is CLASSIC. I would PAY to see a couple of middle aged ladies hanging out of a car while a purse snatcher drives around trying to throw them off like the Dukes of Hazard. That's one bad mamma-jamma, jabbing a guy with her keys, hitting him with the other hand, and trying to bite him.
I can see it all in my head and it's hilarious. What do you think other people in the parking lot were thinking? I can hear the conversation between the 2 sisters: "Madge! Grab the wheel! I'll get the purse!" "Bite him, Doris, bite him!"
When I moved to (insert big east coast city here), we had a self-defense class and the lady teaching it told us that if someone attacks you, you should fight back, because most likely the attacker will move on to an "easier" victim who won't fight back. This makes me question that assumption....
Saturday, May 26, 2007
crack rocks pt 2
Today as soon as I show up I see 2 cars parked behind a building, both running but with no driver in either one. 4 guys and some kids are standing around them. One of the guys is crack rock illegal tenant guy.
Shit Shit Shit. It's 10:30 in the morning and I haven't even finished my coffee yet. I have to deal with THIS now?
I suck it up, walk on over to the group, say "good morning" and ask them to park the cars legally. I recognize the cars, but I know they don't belong to a tenant. I walk away, but keep my eye on them and they are still there. I call the police non-emergency number and report them as trespassers. As I'm on the phone with the dispatcher, 1 of the cars pulls away. Nevermind, I tell the lady, I think they're leaving. Well, she says, if they come back, give us a call.
Now as I sit in the office, tenants in the building across from me are grilling out, and there's big guy in a white polo shirt standing at the corner of the building. I know he's not a tenant, but if he's a guest of 1 of the others there's not much I can do about it now.
I see him walk across to another building, so I grab my keys and emergency phone and follow him. He's on the back stoop of 1 of the tenants in a building behind the office. I say hi to him, talk to some of the kids who are out playing, and notice a car that has been driving through the parking lot all morning parked illegally. I ask him if it's his car and he nods no. I say that I don't want to stick a parking violation on it until I ask the person to move it, and he sort of nods. I walk up to the group BBQ-ing and ask them if they know who's car it is and they say it's a friend of another tenant. Sure enough, 2 seconds later she's getting in the car and leaving. The big guy must be her look-out.
I try to be calm in these situations, but I'm always shaking afterwards. Do I want to be a warrior on the front lines in the war against drugs? No. Because there will always be more of them than of me. But I do want to do my job well, and this is my job.
How the fuck did I get here? I am midwestern through and through. I am blonde naturally. Confrontation is my biggest fear. I am addicted to beer and cheese, and can give up beer but not cheese. I seriously go through cheese withdrawl. I will probably die in jeans and a t-shirt, because it's my favorite outfit. I own a bunad. I own a gun and can drive a tractor, my car is a stick shift and I would rather drive in 6 feet of snow and ice than in heavy city traffic.
Ugg, I'm fighting off panic attack number 2 of the week. Time to suck it up and make "rounds" - it's like being a college RA or a camp counselor. I walk around and scold people for doing things that are against the rules and we both know full well they'll start again as soon as I leave. Damnit I hated the college RAs. The worst part of "rounds" are the basements. They're small and dank and dark and you never know who, or what, you're going to find. Last week I found graffiti on the wall that said "Yung Assasinz" in cray paz. CRAY PAZ. The oily crayon things kids use. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry. The maintenance lady found a sleeping bag from someone who was living in the basement stairwell (homeless person or illegal tenant, who knows?) THIS IS WHY YOU CAN'T PROP THE DOORS OPEN. Also, people hide their drugs in the basement.
Okay, I feel better having vented. But on a side note, if I ever find / have to deal with a dead body, I quit.
Shit Shit Shit. It's 10:30 in the morning and I haven't even finished my coffee yet. I have to deal with THIS now?
I suck it up, walk on over to the group, say "good morning" and ask them to park the cars legally. I recognize the cars, but I know they don't belong to a tenant. I walk away, but keep my eye on them and they are still there. I call the police non-emergency number and report them as trespassers. As I'm on the phone with the dispatcher, 1 of the cars pulls away. Nevermind, I tell the lady, I think they're leaving. Well, she says, if they come back, give us a call.
Now as I sit in the office, tenants in the building across from me are grilling out, and there's big guy in a white polo shirt standing at the corner of the building. I know he's not a tenant, but if he's a guest of 1 of the others there's not much I can do about it now.
I see him walk across to another building, so I grab my keys and emergency phone and follow him. He's on the back stoop of 1 of the tenants in a building behind the office. I say hi to him, talk to some of the kids who are out playing, and notice a car that has been driving through the parking lot all morning parked illegally. I ask him if it's his car and he nods no. I say that I don't want to stick a parking violation on it until I ask the person to move it, and he sort of nods. I walk up to the group BBQ-ing and ask them if they know who's car it is and they say it's a friend of another tenant. Sure enough, 2 seconds later she's getting in the car and leaving. The big guy must be her look-out.
I try to be calm in these situations, but I'm always shaking afterwards. Do I want to be a warrior on the front lines in the war against drugs? No. Because there will always be more of them than of me. But I do want to do my job well, and this is my job.
How the fuck did I get here? I am midwestern through and through. I am blonde naturally. Confrontation is my biggest fear. I am addicted to beer and cheese, and can give up beer but not cheese. I seriously go through cheese withdrawl. I will probably die in jeans and a t-shirt, because it's my favorite outfit. I own a bunad. I own a gun and can drive a tractor, my car is a stick shift and I would rather drive in 6 feet of snow and ice than in heavy city traffic.
Ugg, I'm fighting off panic attack number 2 of the week. Time to suck it up and make "rounds" - it's like being a college RA or a camp counselor. I walk around and scold people for doing things that are against the rules and we both know full well they'll start again as soon as I leave. Damnit I hated the college RAs. The worst part of "rounds" are the basements. They're small and dank and dark and you never know who, or what, you're going to find. Last week I found graffiti on the wall that said "Yung Assasinz" in cray paz. CRAY PAZ. The oily crayon things kids use. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry. The maintenance lady found a sleeping bag from someone who was living in the basement stairwell (homeless person or illegal tenant, who knows?) THIS IS WHY YOU CAN'T PROP THE DOORS OPEN. Also, people hide their drugs in the basement.
Okay, I feel better having vented. But on a side note, if I ever find / have to deal with a dead body, I quit.
crack rocks
I finally leave on Friday afternoon of Memorial Day weekend, but with the knowledge that I have to come back and spend all day Saturday here. At least I am going to go to a carnival and then see Pirates of the Caribbean 3 with some of my teammates.
I swing by the movie theater on my way home to check out movie times and buy us tickets, and while I'm in the lobby calling girls to see which time works best and how many tickets we need, my emergency cell phone rings. The "emergency phone" is a Nextel cell phone I have to carry around 24 / 7. I hate it, and mostly it gets used for walkie-talkie-ing the accounting office / the woman who is my "property management consultant".
I've never had a REAL emergency call yet, and standard procedure is to not answer, let the caller leave a message, and then check the messages. This is to avoid me yelling something inappropriate at a tenant when they call and wake me up at 3 am to tell me they need a note from me so the cable company can drill a hole in their wall.*
*Actual emergency phone call.
I'm standing in the lobby of the movie theater, 2 cell phones in hand, feeling like an asshoIe. 1 is in use to a teammate and the other is ringing. I check the emergency phone caller ID, and it says "Private". I ignore it and go back to movie planning. It rings again a few minutes later, and again caller ID says "Private". Since I had just emailed the police an hour earlier, and it says "Private" when they call my office, I decide to take a chance.
Sure enough, it's the neighborhood police officer getting back to me about the traffic in the building I had asked about. He seems very excited. "Oh man, I wish you would have been in your office just 20 minutes later, you could have seen the whole thing go down!" It seems he and his partner apprehended a guy selling drugs with 6 crack rocks on him, and the address he gave the police was the same one I was wondering about. And sure enough, he's not on the lease. "Slam dunk", as my "property management consultant" (hense forth known as my fairy godmother) said. I walk out of the movie theater lobby, grabbing a flier about children and R-rated movies on the way so I can take notes. I write the down the details, names, etc., and wonder if anyone walking by has a clue that I am scribbling down "Joe Doe, 6 crack rocks". They probably think I'm writing down movie times or phone numbers. I also wonder if this is a conversation we should be having on a cell phone. But the police officer is really excited and I don't want to interrupt him. Again he says he wishes I would have been there to see it, and I don't have the nerve to tell him I don't want the local dealers to think I have anything to do with busting them / getting them evicted. I don't want them around, but I don't want them to know that, or that I know anything at all. I hope that I'm snowing them more than they're snowing me. It's a 2-way street.
So now I can get rid of the tenants, but I have to wait until the police report comes out with the address on it, and not let anything slip to the legit tenant 'til then. Act casual, just act casual....
The carnival was great, I had part of a deep-fried snickers bar and went on 2 of those rides that go up in an hour and are held together by rusty screws. The movie was not so good.
PS - I just went outside to remind one tenant we need to do his paperwork so he can sign a new lease for another year and the "crack rock" tenant asked me if they need to sign a new lease. Oh shit, make something up about why she doesn't need to do it yet, bullshit, bullshit....
I swing by the movie theater on my way home to check out movie times and buy us tickets, and while I'm in the lobby calling girls to see which time works best and how many tickets we need, my emergency cell phone rings. The "emergency phone" is a Nextel cell phone I have to carry around 24 / 7. I hate it, and mostly it gets used for walkie-talkie-ing the accounting office / the woman who is my "property management consultant".
I've never had a REAL emergency call yet, and standard procedure is to not answer, let the caller leave a message, and then check the messages. This is to avoid me yelling something inappropriate at a tenant when they call and wake me up at 3 am to tell me they need a note from me so the cable company can drill a hole in their wall.*
*Actual emergency phone call.
I'm standing in the lobby of the movie theater, 2 cell phones in hand, feeling like an asshoIe. 1 is in use to a teammate and the other is ringing. I check the emergency phone caller ID, and it says "Private". I ignore it and go back to movie planning. It rings again a few minutes later, and again caller ID says "Private". Since I had just emailed the police an hour earlier, and it says "Private" when they call my office, I decide to take a chance.
Sure enough, it's the neighborhood police officer getting back to me about the traffic in the building I had asked about. He seems very excited. "Oh man, I wish you would have been in your office just 20 minutes later, you could have seen the whole thing go down!" It seems he and his partner apprehended a guy selling drugs with 6 crack rocks on him, and the address he gave the police was the same one I was wondering about. And sure enough, he's not on the lease. "Slam dunk", as my "property management consultant" (hense forth known as my fairy godmother) said. I walk out of the movie theater lobby, grabbing a flier about children and R-rated movies on the way so I can take notes. I write the down the details, names, etc., and wonder if anyone walking by has a clue that I am scribbling down "Joe Doe, 6 crack rocks". They probably think I'm writing down movie times or phone numbers. I also wonder if this is a conversation we should be having on a cell phone. But the police officer is really excited and I don't want to interrupt him. Again he says he wishes I would have been there to see it, and I don't have the nerve to tell him I don't want the local dealers to think I have anything to do with busting them / getting them evicted. I don't want them around, but I don't want them to know that, or that I know anything at all. I hope that I'm snowing them more than they're snowing me. It's a 2-way street.
So now I can get rid of the tenants, but I have to wait until the police report comes out with the address on it, and not let anything slip to the legit tenant 'til then. Act casual, just act casual....
The carnival was great, I had part of a deep-fried snickers bar and went on 2 of those rides that go up in an hour and are held together by rusty screws. The movie was not so good.
PS - I just went outside to remind one tenant we need to do his paperwork so he can sign a new lease for another year and the "crack rock" tenant asked me if they need to sign a new lease. Oh shit, make something up about why she doesn't need to do it yet, bullshit, bullshit....
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Screw the past, let's focus on NOW
I was going to refrain from sending my friends and family a link to the blog until I had put together a concise history of the job up to this point - from about mid-March 2007 to today.
Then, today, in the middle of 7 people in my 12' x 17' office all yelling about the old property manager cheating them out of money, I decided, "Fuck It." This job is too crazy and I don't really want to relive the past. I want to move forward to the disasters of today and tomorrow.
I can sum up the job transition in 2 main points:
1. Crazy mis-handling of HR. I was supposed to begin this job on March 1, but was delayed 2 weeks by the old property manager taking a week to move her copious amounts of crap out of the office, and then the woman who was supposed to train me how to do this job went to Florida for a week and they wanted me to hold office hours anyway, which I refused to do until I had been trained.
Because they gave the old property manager no deadline as to when she had to have all her stuff off the premises, I would show up to the office and random things would be missing, like toner and stamps and the plastic base the computer monitor used to sit on. We changed the locks so she couldn't get into the office, but the maintenance lady would let her in. Also, there is STILL a vacant apartment full of her stuff.
2. Money Madness
As soon as the old property manager left and I arrived, tenants stopped paying their rent. This was a "how much can we get away with?" maneuver, sort of like a 5-year-old does with a new babysitter. Soon enough, as I began issuing eviction notices, people stopped pushing the limits of non-payment. However, one particularly wily tenant who was about $1700 in debt and about to get evicted came up with a plan: she decided to accuse the old property manager of stealing her rent payments.
Now she's buzzing around telling all the other tenants the company is stealing her money and all hell has broken loose. Everyday I show up to the office there's a new resident at my door claiming they made payments that aren't on their account ledger. Everyday I tell them to bring in all the receipts they have so I can make copies and pass the info along to the company who does our bookkeeping. Of course in this community, no one has a bank account or check book, so everyone pays their rent via money order, and no one has any money management skills or receipts. Or the money came from some church. Or they made the payment in cash, etc, etc.
Hmm, the old property manager leaves, you owe 3 months' rent, but claim you made $900 worth of payments to her that don't show up on your account and you don't have receipts because you paid in cash...
I have long ago stopped trying to decipher the levels of true or false.
Then, after the 7 shouting people leave my office and the Latino family I've been trying to get approved for an apartment for a month can piece together enough of my gringo Spanish to understand I can let them move in by June 1, I look around for the hidden camera that I'm sure must be mounted on top of the computer, or on the ceiling, or in the phone, SOMEWHERE, documenting me like the Truman Show... I just know it's here... reality TV bastards...
Then, today, in the middle of 7 people in my 12' x 17' office all yelling about the old property manager cheating them out of money, I decided, "Fuck It." This job is too crazy and I don't really want to relive the past. I want to move forward to the disasters of today and tomorrow.
I can sum up the job transition in 2 main points:
1. Crazy mis-handling of HR. I was supposed to begin this job on March 1, but was delayed 2 weeks by the old property manager taking a week to move her copious amounts of crap out of the office, and then the woman who was supposed to train me how to do this job went to Florida for a week and they wanted me to hold office hours anyway, which I refused to do until I had been trained.
Because they gave the old property manager no deadline as to when she had to have all her stuff off the premises, I would show up to the office and random things would be missing, like toner and stamps and the plastic base the computer monitor used to sit on. We changed the locks so she couldn't get into the office, but the maintenance lady would let her in. Also, there is STILL a vacant apartment full of her stuff.
- SUB-POINT: I didn't know about the vacant apartment full of her stuff until I was showing a prospective tenant vacant apartments and opened the door to find: A) the place reeks of rotten meat because she had stored meat in the freezer, then unplugged the fridge/freezer causing the meat to begin defrosting, removed the meat but left blood in the freezer which rotted because it isn't plugged in. And, B) One of the bedrooms stacked floor to ceiling with her junk.
2. Money Madness
As soon as the old property manager left and I arrived, tenants stopped paying their rent. This was a "how much can we get away with?" maneuver, sort of like a 5-year-old does with a new babysitter. Soon enough, as I began issuing eviction notices, people stopped pushing the limits of non-payment. However, one particularly wily tenant who was about $1700 in debt and about to get evicted came up with a plan: she decided to accuse the old property manager of stealing her rent payments.
Now she's buzzing around telling all the other tenants the company is stealing her money and all hell has broken loose. Everyday I show up to the office there's a new resident at my door claiming they made payments that aren't on their account ledger. Everyday I tell them to bring in all the receipts they have so I can make copies and pass the info along to the company who does our bookkeeping. Of course in this community, no one has a bank account or check book, so everyone pays their rent via money order, and no one has any money management skills or receipts. Or the money came from some church. Or they made the payment in cash, etc, etc.
Hmm, the old property manager leaves, you owe 3 months' rent, but claim you made $900 worth of payments to her that don't show up on your account and you don't have receipts because you paid in cash...
I have long ago stopped trying to decipher the levels of true or false.
Then, after the 7 shouting people leave my office and the Latino family I've been trying to get approved for an apartment for a month can piece together enough of my gringo Spanish to understand I can let them move in by June 1, I look around for the hidden camera that I'm sure must be mounted on top of the computer, or on the ceiling, or in the phone, SOMEWHERE, documenting me like the Truman Show... I just know it's here... reality TV bastards...
Friday, May 18, 2007
Part 2: Why I do this job
- 1. I get paid. I get paid better than any other job I have found in this city.
- 2. I don’t do this job because I care about people. I don’t, you know, want to harm people, but I don’t really care, either. I manage to work up a good amount of hostility towards, and action against, general injustice (war, no gay marriage, no universal health care, etc. etc.), but when it comes to individuals and their problems (“I can’t pay my rent because my car was towed and I had to get it out of impound so I could go to work”), I really, really don’t care.
- Ok, I DO care on a basic human level, but I don’t get involved because if I care, this job becomes so depressing and overwhelming I can’t do it. Also, you can't fix people or their problems. Be a nice person, donate to charity, be a polite driver, and you will make a bigger difference in the world than if you make zero-interest forgivable loans available to everyone in the country who makes less than 20,000 a year.
Part 1: How I got this job
I was working full-time for an organization, but as a temp. For a year. A looooong year of no sick time, no vacation time, no benefits. I needed better pay and an official full-time job or I was going to leave, they needed someone to manage a rental property in the worst part of the city. For 20 hours a week. So now I do my old job 20 hours and the property management 20 hours, which in real math = 1 full time job, but in HR math = 2 full-time jobs being done by 1 person. Everyone wins! Right?
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