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A journal of the trials, tribulations, and triumphs in the life of a woman in the 21st century.

Last Updated : Friday, August 10, 2001 10:49:07 PM -0500

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Monday, August 6, 2001

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I had a very strange conversation today. Somehow we got to discussing what happened to the Peanuts characters after they grew up...

Lucy became a career woman, CEO of a major corporation, perhaps in entertainment. She wears red power suits with shoulder pads and 4 inch heels. She married Charlie Brown, who became the classic hen-pecked husband, who stays at home with the kids and enables Lucy to have her demanding career.

Sally became a whiney, high maintenance woman who married well and is constantly bedecking herself with jewels, wears Armani, and floats everywhere on a cloud of perfume.

Schroeder works at Paisley Park in one of Prince's bands. He occasionally teaches piano on the side.

Peppermint Patty is a leader in the gay pride movement and a major proponent of alternative energy source. Her claim to fame was living in a Giant Redwood for a year to prevent it from being chopped down, only to find out that she had the wrong tree.

Marcie graduated Magna Cum Laude from Harvard and works for Microsoft.

Linus works on Broadway as a costume designer. He has won several Tony Awards for his innovative use of everyday objects to make exotic costumes.

Pig Pen is a sanitation engineer. He lived very frugally and retired to Tahiti at the age of 40.

(ed -- Personally, I think it more likely that Woodstock became the head of software engineering at Microsoft. Would explain the rapidly veering course, and the occasional "just what the heck is THAT supposed to do?" bit that comes out of the Black Hole of Redmond... Snoopy, of course, is sitting on the shoulder of Linus Torvalds, directing development of Linux. -- jd)

I know, I know. I get into the strangest conversations.

Well, another day of lack of communication from eldest. Apparently this is my preview of coming attractions. I can just hear the conversation in a few years. Hello, Rhiannon, it's Mom. Your Mom. Ann Dominik, the one who gave birth to you in 1993. Although I appreciate your annual Christmas form letter, I would enjoy an occasional live phone conversation, if you could fit it in to your busy schedule. It was nice to hear of your latest marriage. Do you think you could bring the guy home to meet your parents? I will get your dad out of the home for the day and make sure he has had all his medications so there won't be a repeat of the incident the last time you visited. Keep in touch. Love Mom.

(ed - Right. And a Hannibal mask... -- jd).

Tuesday, August 7, 2001

Wednesday, August 8, 2001

Okay, now I've heard it all. The job market in the Netherlands is so tight that a telemarketing company has taken "Casual Friday" to an extreme. They are now allowing employees to come to work on Fridays nude. As in no clothes. As in naked as the day they were born. Apparently hundreds of Dutch nudists have applied for positions in the company (although they are required to come to the interview clothed). Frankly, only as a public service, you understand, the HR Director should require that all applicant's intending to work nude on Fridays to disrobe for an inspection. There are certain, well, unsightly conditions, that shouldn't be foisted upon unsuspecting coworkers. (Certainly I think MY body would qualify for that particular prohibition. I am in my mid thirties and in reasonably good shape, but, well, gravity has taken a toll, you know. No one needs to be treated to THAT particular site, except my husband, who is paying dearly for that privilege.) You know, there are just some things I don't think I can face in the morning. Chief among those, I think, is see ALL of my coworkers. A bit much, especially before my morning coffee. And how would they get to work? I just have this mental image of people on the subway or the bus on the way to work, clothed only by the newspaper they are reading. Or riding their bikes to work, of course wearing a helmet, and perhaps knee and elbow pad if they are a particularly cautious sort. My eyes, my eyes!!!

(ed - Uh, honey? About that new job... I need to relocate. But I'm an HR director with some pretty big ... uh, perks... -- jd).

Today is supposed to be the end of our recent heat wave. The temperatures are supposed to drop to the low to mid 80s. More importantly, the dew points are supposed to drop to manageable levels. Personally, I'd like it to get cool enough for me to turn off my air conditioning. I have been looking at online house listings lately and am finding several houses that don't have central air conditioning. I am expecting that those houses went on the market about the same time the temps went up! I am also expecting that those houses will be going for cheaper right now, as I don't think anyone around here is going be willing to buy a house without air conditioning any time soon.

Two more idiots have been caught leaving children in hot, parked cars. This time in St. Cloud. 2 women were in Barnes and Noble and their 2 - 4 year olds were misbehaving. So they had the brilliant idea of disciplining them by putting them in the car, alone, in 98 degree heat with a 110 degree heat index. Luckily, the children were found by police after about 10 minutes, sweating and crying. The children were released to their mothers, but you can be sure child welfare will be paying these families a call. Now, I have a VERY active 4 year old boy and nobody understands better than I the special kind of hell a four year old can raise. However, I have never EVER left my children alone in my car (except for in my own garage). No matter what the weather. I would take my kids into the gas station with me when they were babies rather than leave them alone in the car. There are so many things that can happen to a child alone in a car. It gets hot in a parked car and there is very little air circulation. The car could be stolen. They child could be kidnapped. The car could be hit by another vehicle. The car could accidentally be knocked into gear and roll into traffic. It could be sucked up by aliens or bodily assumed into Heaven. Now, I know not everyone shares my paranoia when it comes to children. (And yes, I know it can veer into paranoia, it is another of my little neuroses.) However, when it is all over the news about how hot it is and how high the heat index is AND the deaths of several children who were left in cars recently have been excessively publicized, what kind of genius decides to punish their 4 year old by locking them in a parked car?! I swear, there should be some kind of intelligence test required before people are allowed to reproduce. "MEeeep. Sorry wrong answer. Please check your uterus or testicles at the door."

Thursday, August 9, 2001

Friday, August 10, 2001

Where am I,
where are we going,
and why are we in this basket?

Several "Rules to Live By" have entered my consciousness this week. Some were things that happened to others, some to myself. But all contain lessons. Whether I want to learn them or not is debatable.

Never assume grandparents know how to deal with their grandchild's thermonuclear meltdown mode, even though they raised their own kids.
Although duct tape has many and varied uses, holding up prom dresses and hair removal are not among them.
Never leave 3 children under 10 and a pail of blue latex enamel paint in the same vicinity.
Carefully consider the upbringing of your in-laws before you decide to leave your child with their grandparents.
Don't copy your spouse on email that you don't want her to see the response to.
When naming a new product, be careful to consider all connotations of the name. Even if it is the name of your company, it could lend itself to some, well, less than savory connotations.
If by accident or design, you do leave small children in the vicinity of latex enamel paint, don't leave said "paint monkeys" alone to clean up in the bathroom unless you WANT the bathroom painted blue and their little sister to have blue hair.
Don't criticize someone's child to the child's godmother. It is a good bet it will get back to the parent. Quickly.
Expect smart-ass comments when making ill-considered comments to coworkers.
Never say "I just bought my husband a Virgin." You will never get out of there alive. Trust me on this.
Never fight a land war in Asia. (Okay, so I didn't just learn that one this week, but always a good point.)

It has been a lovely day. The temperatures are in the mid to high 70s range. I even wore a sweatshirt to work today for the weather outside, not inside, my office. Tonight I get to try to put my kitchen back into order after the electricians finished with it. We had a full size microwave installed above our stove. All though this will be handy, it took up the space over the stove that I had my spices. So I need to find a new place for my spice rack. Sigh. I think I will need to stash them somewhere.

Tomorrow we go back up to fetch the Snook, do a little shopping for clothes for a wedding in 2 weeks, and visit the Volkmuths (they of the 5 children).

Saturday, August 11, 2001

Sunday, August 12, 2001

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Copyright © 2001 Ann Dominik. All rights reserved. Complaints about the technical details of this page can be directed to the abused geek who takes care of it for me, and is grossly underpaid for what he does, he thinks. No reproduction without written permission. The opinions and content of this site are my own, and not the responsibility of this site's host, my employer, my pets, my parents or anyone else you may care to blame. Please respect my opinions and I will do the same for you. I may on occasion publish e-mail to me; if you do not wish your mail to be published, please write CONFIDENTIAL or DO NOT PUBLISH at the top of the e-mail. If you would prefer to remain anonymous, please note that as well. If you're incapable of reasoned civilized discourse but feel compelled to correspond with me, I'll be happy to filter your mail out after a few choice comments regarding your ancestors, upbringing, and the likelihood of your family tree not

Where am I, where are we going, and why are we in this basket?

Where am I,
where are we going,
and why are we in this basket?