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Wednesday
27May

rut

I’m in a rut. I planned on writing yesterday, but of course, by the time I got home, played with “little piglet”, and ate dinner, I was ready for bed. My rut isn’t about being tired or being a mother. That mothering part really doesn’t make me that tired. I’m in a professional rut. I read an article the other day that makes my rut feel even worse –especially in such a terrible economic climate.

According to the May 25th edition of Time magazine, we’re all in for a big change in how we will “work” in the future. From what I read, the future is now. I was in line at the grocery store when I looked up and saw the cover. In a few short sentences, I found out that I can look forward to complete “free agency,” NO benefits, and a corporate lattice rather than a ladder. The lattice was the most appealing part of the article.

As we all know, more and more companies outsource work overseas. In the near future, all employees will become contract workers. Gone will be the days of the traditional 40-hour work week, full-time employee. We’ll all be working for ourselves as freelancers. With this shift comes the elimination of a perk that keeps most individuals I know in the corporate world: benefits. That’s right. We’ll be fending for ourselves. I wouldn’t really care about this if I didn’t have a child. That scares me. But after living out here for two years and seeing the amount of freelance workers, I know how to get health insurance if necessary.

The most intriguing prospect of the “new” workplace is the elimination of the corporate ladder. We’ll have a corporate lattice. We will have the ability to move laterally, up, down, and sideways, depending on how we can best fit working into our lives. This means more flexible working schedules, complete telecommuting, or to quote the article, “dialing down,” to work less hours at a little less pay to spend time with family. Employers actually like this idea. It allows them to lower an employee’s pay, pay out less money in benefits, and keep valuable employees. It seems the new generation of 18-34 year-olds have new priorities and they now rule the roost in getting employers to listen. I like their priorities. They value their personal and family time as important. They don’t wish to climb up some ladder at the expense of their sanity.

It made me think about how I value work and personal life. –and then I remembered doing both a while ago…working at a non-profit organization. At that point, the memories came flooding back. I was completely happy and satisfied working for a little less pay to work for a cause I believed in. At the end of the day, I turned off my computer, went home, and had the energy and the excitement to invest in personal hobbies, family time, and anything else I wanted to do. I can recall dozens of times where I went home with a great story from the work day about how I made someone happy or made a difference in someone’s life. I was in the business of cultivating friendships. –and it felt VERY good. My little office of 35 employees was a joy to visit each day. They were/are good people, creating a positive atmosphere, and doing good work.

I remember when a new employee would come in from the corporate world. I knew they were probably taking a pay cut. Their usual response would be something along the lines of “I’ve worked too long in the corporate world. I NEED this change.” Their faces would slowly morph from sad and stoic to happy and relaxed. No wonder I worked there for eight years.

Now, I have a child. When I come home after work these days, my only stories consist of complaints from the day, feeling tired even though I sit all day, and experiencing an overall sense of dread. I realize this is a terrible economic time. I’m not just going to up and quit with no other option. I wouldn’t do that. I have responsibilities. But it does make me rethink how my own personal goals and values should try to align with the work I do. It makes me believe that when they do NOT align with each other, it throws everything out of balance.

Friday
01May

celebrity social security...part 2

Yes, it's that time again! The Hollywood Collector show made another appearance last weekend, and it did not disappoint! For those of you who missed my previous post "Where Celebrities Go to Die," the Hollywood Collector Show occurs every 3 months at the Marriott out in Burbank. Celebrities of time past come to sign autographs and give photo ops. There was one word for this show...CROWDED. The reasons? 1) The complete cast of Buck Rogers, 2) The complete cast of Back to the Future, and 3) The complete cast of Just the 10 of Us. The line for Christopher Lloyd was 5 hours long. -and boy is he an ass. Sorry folks, but if you're a fan, he isn't that nice. Clearly does it for the money, and I guess he needs to do it as well. His house burnt down in the fires last year.  This show was extra special for me because Emma went with us, and Carol Spinney was there signing autographs. If you are not familiar with Carol Spinney, he's this guy:

 

...and this guy...

 

Yes, he is the voice and movement behind Big Bird and Oscar, and he's been doing it for 41 years. He says he would like to do it forever. I don't blame him. What a rewarding job. He was the sweetest man. We talked about old episodes that made an impact on me, like when Oscar's pet worm slimey had a pregnant wife, when Maria (and viewers) finally saw the inside of Oscar's can, and when everyone finally discovered that Snuffy was real. He signed some photos for Emma, and talked to her in Big Bird's voice. I almost cried.

  

 

 We walked around for a while and saw tons of people like Nellie Olson from Little House on the Prairie, the mom from E.T., the big creepy villian from Superman 2, a lot of Penthouse Playmates, etc. I was walking by the Just the 10 of Us table, when Brooke Thiess (played one of the daughters) stopped me to see Emma. We started talking about our babies and I guess I was talking to her for 5-10 minutes because Autograph's friend said "Jesus, are you buds with Brooke Thiess??" Oh well, she was nice.

Emma was a real draw for the celebrities at this show. I was wheeling her by the Back to the Future Table, and "Jimmy Olson" from Superman stopped me and "wanted to take a picture with Emma." So here we are with little Jimmy Olson, now clearly in his 50's...

 

I always have a good time at the show. I know seeing these people in person is new to me. It's old hat for Autograph, but I get a little giddy when I see people like Nelly Olson in the flesh. Stayed tuned for the next show in 3 months. Autograph is helping the promoter, so Emma and I will definitely be there again. I posted the rest of the pictures in my gallery, listed under "Panda Paparazzo",  if you're interested.

 

 

Wednesday
22Apr

back to the grind

It is now day 3 of my return to work. What can I say but...Eh. I missed my friends/coworkers and the adult conversation is good. But it would be a lie if I said I haven't been buying lottery tickets since Monday. Other than the peeps I work with here, everyone else I know "freelances", or "works from home" most of the time out here. I suppose it's the nature of the biz. How did I luck into getting a desk job?

While I was at home, I was going crazy. Now that I'm not there, I wonder what is going on with the baby and daddy while I'm here. I only check-in once a day by phone. That's only because I miss them, and not because I doubt Autograph's abilities. I also miss enjoying the weather outside my living room window. I don't have a window here. Just 3 cube walls.

I'd much rather be walking in the sunshine, sitting in the sunshine, or reading in the sunshine. I'd rather walk down the street to the 7-11 and buy a cherry slurpie, then say a quick "buenos dias" to the fruit man outside the building. I'd rather be one of the 3 million other people in my neighborhood who don't wake up until 12 noon. I don't know where or how these people live, but I'd like to know.

At least I'm starting my last improv class in two weeks. Maybe that's what I need. Something just for me. Most mothers would probably choose a massage, or a shopping day free of children. I choose 3 hours a week of rolling around on a dirty stage and trying to make a scene out of a suggestion like "eggplant."

So, here I am. Back at my cube. Watching the clock...scratching off my lottery ticket. Damn. not a winner. Oh well. I need to stop for a cherry slurpie on the way home anyway.

 

Monday
23Mar

rock my baby

I'd like to think I haven't turned into an old, out of touch senior citizen (no offense mom) since the birth of Emma. In fact, I think I'm still pretty hip. Yesterday, we took Emma to our hip, cool record store Amoeba. It really is a great place to find everything. They have new and used CDs, DVDs, vinyl, etc. Emma made her first purchase, and daddy and I were impressed.  We found a CD series of lullabies. -Only the best part is they are lullabies of songs from bands like Nirvana, Tool, The Ramones, The Cure, Metallica, and a host of others. We bought the Pixies and Nirvana versions. When we got home, we found even more through iTunes. They sound great! I can actually stand to listen to them at length. I've posted a few songs on my music/tunes page. Take a few minutes and listen. You'll hear "Smells Like Teen Spirit" like never before.

 

 

Wednesday
18Mar

dating in lost angeles

I found the funniest web site. It allows you to create animated movies. I created this one without the use of sound because Mike's sound card doesn't work on his computer. So, be kind. I have no idea if it works or not. Basically, it is a cautionary tale about dating weirdos in L.A. Oh...and the web site is: www.xtranormal.com
Wednesday
11Mar

what the #$%^???

I'm sitting here watching the news and I don't know whether I should laugh or be embarrased for the news anchors. They are showing a story about how Mexicans are leaving Los Angeles en masse because of the economy. The news anchors called it a "mexodus."

 

I'm not kidding.

Thursday
26Feb

congratulations. you're a mother.

One of my favorite Bugs Bunny cartoons involves a very drunk stork who delivers Bugs Bunny instead of a monkey to an ape couple. He throws down his sack and says (complete with many hiccups) "Congrat (hiccup) Congrat (hiccup), Congratulations, you're a mother."

Well, the stork has come and gone. We got the correct child. But now there seems to be something missing. Her instructions. It's pretty crazy to think something so important doesn't come with any kind of instructions. Just some sound advice from doctors who have treated babies for years. Emma has only been home for three weeks, but I'm starting to get the hang of what she wants. She's becoming more alert too, which is fun. She's finally figured out that Autograph and I are her parents. I'm sure the different nurses in the NICU just confused her. (Especially the mean one. )

Daddy 'Graph went out  today to buy her a "jungle gym" to play with. We're looking forward to tummy and exercise time. Mommy is also looking forward to the day we can take her outside into crowds. Mommy is going a little stir crazy sitting in the house all day. But this picture makes me not care as much...

Friday
13Feb

I really hope that wasn't a contraction...

I've decided my birthing experience was a complete exercise in letting go of control. Nothing about it was expected, and it actually took a good sense of humor to get through it. Here's the short rundown of events:

 Thursday, February 5, 7:00pm

Autograph and I drove to the hospital to take our first of three baby care classes. We ate cookies, talked about sponge baths, and listened to our teacher talk about how gifted her children were.

Friday, February 6, 12:00am

I started having contractions...or I guess that's what they were.

 3:00am

I freaked out. I called the doctor.

 

3:01am-3:05am

After being verbally bitch-slapped by my doctor we sped off into the night.

 

4:00am

I'm in the hospital, in a bed, admitted, and being poked and prodded. I'm in preterm labor. FANTASTIC.

 

7:00am

My doctor came in to let me know I wasn't going anywhere, and said, "Yeah, I think you're done with work..." -oh, and she let me know she was leaving on vacation on Saturday morning. WHAT?!?!?!?

 

7:01am-11:59pm

I chatted with the nurses, continued to feel contractions, wanted to punch someone's eye out (I didn't care who), subjected my husband to picking up stuff from my office, and dined on succulent hospital food. It was a great day.

 

Saturday, February 7, 7:00am

My substitute OB, Dr. G came to visit, complete with one arm in a huge sling. He had a dislocated shoulder. I'm not quite sure how he could catch babies with one arm. He looked like he drove a Porsche, and liked the ladies.

 

Saturday-Sunday, February 8:

More of the same. Only the nurses knew me really well, stopped in before they went home after their shift, and brought me snacks.

 

Monday, February 9, 7:00am:

My patience was wearing thin. The drugs bruised my arms, they made me jittery, and I kept wondering if they were doing more harm than good. Plus, the lunch menu included some sort of beef crap.

My day nurse for this shift was Fong. I heard about Fong from my nurse the previous evening. "...Now please don't take this the wrong way, but I just want to tell you that Fong is very sweet, but most people can only understand every third word she says."

Fong said great things like "I hope Dr. hurry up. I no want to catch baby...", and "Make sure husband no wreck car on way to hospital."

Fong let me lean on her and hold her hand when my knight in shining armor, the ultimate drug dealer, came to call.

Mike walked in and asked how I was feeling. A-Ok! Finally.

I continued to labor...while watching Dr. Phil. It was a little weird laboring and listening to Dr. Phil give shitty advice and using the phrase "I don't care how flat a pancake is, it still has two sides..."

Fong kept calling the doctor. He had to drive across the valley during rush hour. He finally arrived checked me out, then went to read the paper.

When it was time, and he had finished reading the Business section, Dr. G came back in and we pushed. In between pushes, we watched the news and the two apparent car chases that were happening in L.A. that day.

After about an hour, Emma had arrived and Fong stayed after her shift to make sure I was ok. I fell asleep and woke up to nurses bringing me lots of cookies and congratulations. Autograph and I decided we'd have to make a few dozen to take to the staff as a thank you.

Epilogue

Although it didn't happen the way I thought it should, or the way I envisioned, Emma came anyway. We weren't ready, our house was a mess, and the changing table was not put together. But somehow, when I saw her, it didn't really matter. We went back to our 2nd baby care class last night and scared the hell out of the preggos in there. I apparently look great, but our teacher's kids are still "extremely gifted."

Although Emma was taken to the NICU, she was a tough little cookie herself. And now, we think she'll be home by the end of the weekend. Autograph's parents are coming to visit and help out, and I'm taking all the help I can get. As a matter of fact, our Scientologist neighbor is cleaning our carpets for us as I type, and our apartment manager folded our laundry. Only in Los Angeles.