Things I (Re)Learned in Kansas City

BBQ isn't that bad. Especially BBQ turkey. And everything tastes better with cheesy potatoes.

If you give people the opportunity, they may surprise you with how fabulous they can be.

If you give people the opportunity, they may disappoint you with how awful they can be.

There's a reason I never check my luggage unless I'm going to be gone for more than two nights. And it irks me when I'm forced to do so.

One of my new pairs of Danskos are far too big. And Amazon no longer sells that style. 

I love my new Swiss Army "Checkpoint Friendly" back pack. Love, love, love. Anything that makes the TSA's violation of my 4th Amendment rights go more quickly is A-Okay with me.

I work with some really amazing people. Sometimes I forget that, and it's appropriate for me to remember.

Every problem isn't mine to fix. But some are, even if I didn't create them.

I Hate BBQ

And I'm not too fond of red meat, either. Which is why I get to send so much time in Kansas City, famed for its BBQ.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more - the vortex of the Executive Escalation of Doom calls, and I'll be back on Friday. I'll try to update as time permits.

The Ties That Bind

Ah, family. Nothing can make you as happy, or as crazy.

I have an extremely large and diverse family, as well as a number of friends whom I would consider family for all practical purposes. During my latest bout of Executive Escalation of Doom inspired insomnia I was considering - at what point do you cut loose those ties that bind?

Some things are obvious, of course. If I suddenly found myself related to Chester the Molester, I'm afraid Chester would find himself related to my Shovel of Doom™, with extreme prejudice. If my family spawned the kind of trailer trash that burned crosses on lawns, the decision would also be an easy one.

What has me stuck is other, more subtle kinds of bad behavior, at least as I define it. Willful ignorance. Emotional manipulation. Childishness. And my current, personal favorite, sure to get me wrapped around the axle - disrespecting and hurting people I care for far more than the person indulging in the bad behavior.

At what point does bad behavior that doesn't necessarily hurt me, but does hurt people I care about, become grounds for cutting someone loose from my emotional life? While I realize that the injured parties are grown adults who are certainly capable of managing their own relationships, I'm far less capable of forgiving someone for hurting someone I love than for hurting me.

I'm really struggling with this, as once these kinds of decisions are made, it's exceedingly difficult to unmake them.

I am the Right Hand of Doom

Okay, that's not true. I'm far too pale, for one thing. Plus there's that whole "Beast of the Apocalypse" thing - not really my bailiwick.

But I am deeply entrenched (entombed, encrusted, embedded) in an executive escalation that's gone on long enough that I've started to refer to it as The Executive Escalation of Doom.

Executive escalations are never fun, and the details of this one aren't mine to share, but suffice it to say that I'm now entering my third week of living and breathing this particular issue on a professional basis. I leave on Wednesday for an in-person meeting that will hopefully put it to bed for good. I know - I'm so funny. And why the heck can't I have customers in places like San Diego or Miami? Instead I'll be returning to Kansas, which is NOT my favorite part of the country.

In the meantime, I'm on a nine hour conference call* today, monitoring the issues that precipitated the escalation in the first place. Things are (so far) going as expected, which is a good thing. I'll take whatever gains I can get, reaching out with both greedy hands.

And on an unrelated note, how in the Sam Hill did I end up with so much liturgical music in my iTunes library?


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*A lot of it is just silence while we wait for measurements to come in for me to analyze. Which is giving me time to listen to sections of David Sedaris' When You Are Engulfed in Flames, narrated by the author. Good thing I have the capability to mute my headset. Dude is funny.

Boogie Blogging Friday - Research Design Edition

Boogie's a tired Schnauzer today, as he went for his bath and hair cut yesterday. Now that he's an older dog, his hips get tired and sore when he has to stand for long periods of time. So he's been napping. What a good, good boy.

He's especially good because he's the only member of my family who hasn't made the Calvin-Face when gazing upon my new college textbook, Research Design. Everyone but me and Boogie thinks the topic sounds boring as shit and tedious as hell. So supportive.

There's a reason I love my Boogie-Dog.

My Name is Janiece, and I Have a Problem

First, something for Shawn. Because he's SUCH A BIG BABY IF I DON'T CATER TO HIS BASER INSTINCTS. Satisfied?

Now on the subject at hand.

And that problem would be shoes. Shoes, shoes, shoes. I love shoes. But only expensive, comfortable shoes. And I have a special fondness for Danskos.

I like chunky shoes. The Mechanicky Gal thinks I'm crazy in this regard - she prefers a shoe with a smaller profile, mostly because she's very tall. I, however, am not, and my feet tend to disappear in low profile shoes. I do loves me some chunky shoes.

So the other day I was perusing the selection of Danskos over at Amazon, and as is my custom, lost my damn mind. Which beats taking my own eye out with a spork, I guess.

My Day in Pictures

Yeah. I wish.