Many Hours

I worked yesterday for 16 hours. I am thoroughly disgusted by the fact that I must do a least 54 hours a week at my job to etch out an existence that resembles something of a normal life. That coupled with the knowledge that there are many at my place of employment who try to stop me from having overtime in a very dishonest way and some who are just out and out jealous that I have been granted the opportunity for overtime.

I wish that I did not have to do so much, if any, overtime. But should I not, my family literally would not eat. My base salary is so low that it necessitates my doing massive amounts of overtime. I do not do it for fun. I left my place of employment Friday night at 11:30 PM. After commuting for over 1 and 1/2 hour (there was a train delay that added to my regular 45 minute commute) I arrived home at 1:15 AM, Saturday morning. I then, after sleeping only a few hours, got up at 5:15 AM that same day and was out of the house and back at work by 6:31 AM. I designated myself as the person from management who opens up the job on Saturday as it provides me with ample overtime and quiet time as I am the first there for about 2 hours before anyone arrives. I get in early to work as the train systems of NYC are notorious for messing up on the weekend, so it alleviates any stress I may encounter on NYC Transit by leaving so early that there is no way I can be late on a Saturday to open up shop. If I didn't do it, management would look completely irresponsible as the rest of management trickles in on Saturday usually after our workers have arrived. I don't want management to look bad so I have accepted the responsibility knowing that this pads my check. This responsibility is a secondary concern to me as padding my check is my primary concern. Secondarily is allowing my workers to arrive at a job that is up and running, and having them able to clock in with no delay. Often, before I was promoted to management, I would arrive to work on Saturday and would have to wait in the lobby because management was late opening up shop. I lost precious time off of my check because I could not clock-in. And of course I was never given any recourse for re-coping time lost as that would point the finger at management's irresponsibility.

Usually during the course of my Saturdays at work I have person of all positions, workers and management, who try to figure out how many hours that I do in an attempt to figure out how much I am being paid. I find that offensive, and usually reply to their questions of when did I get in with an answer of "early". I never give a direct answer. Sometimes, if I am feeling defensive, I'll ask the person, "Why do you want to know?" They then usually slink off knowing I am ticked off at them questioning me. Persons in management who are nosy have apparatuses that allow them to look up my arrival and departure times and have actually went to my bosses to complain as to how many hours that I am doing in the hopes of stopping my ability to get overtime. My boss has chased them out of his office with the retort that I can get as much overtime as I want as I am dependable, and never abuse the time, as when I am in the office, I am WORKING, and am not slouching off like some of them. He stated that he can depend on me, unlike them. Some of those same person who tried to block my overtime, who were in management before I was, I would see years ago near the job, running because they were late to open up the shop on a Saturday morning, one so hilariously, with a shockingly white fat stomach that was exposed by a blowing wind raising up his shirt, while unwillingly jogging up Wall Street.

Many of management are resentful because they have been made salaried which means they are unable to get overtime hours. I have heard through the grapevine that their salaries are abysmally low. I understand that frustration. However for them to try to stop me from getting overtime because they can't is beyond evil. I did not put them in the financial constraints that they are in. I am having the same kind of financial issues as they are, but do not complain to those on the job as I deem that inappropriate. I do it on my blog, and to my friends, and to my family, but not on the job. I suspect because I don't complain about money on the job that it is assumed that I must be OK because I receive what they deem "a lot of overtime". Yeah, right. It seems that they believe I am privileged when in fact I know I am being used. I noticed that I am one of the few in management that was not made salaried, and I think I know why. My boss knows my personality enough to know that I would have not stepped foot on my job on a Saturday as I would not do any overtime once I was salaried AND salaried at a rate that wouldn't allow me to support my family. In addition I know my boss understood that not only would I not do overtime, but that I would eventually leave after finding other employment as it would be clear to me how much I was valued at my place of employment after becoming salaried. While I was on vacation and was not there on 3 consecutive Saturdays some workers came to me after my return and said the shop was not opened on time for 2 of the three Saturdays that I was out. Some of the supervisors told me that two managers argued as to who would open up on one of the Saturdays and one flat out refused.

In no way do I think I am being rewarded by being allowed to do overtime. It is a maneuver by my bosses to keep someone who they know works, is quiet, and responsible. They in turn allow me to have overtime. It is not a reciprocal relationship as I believe the bosses are getting the better end of the deal. What I find the most difficult about this situation is the resentment I feel from co-workers that I believe is misplaced. We are all in the same situation as people who are underemployed and underpaid. And for co-workers to not direct whatever resentment they have toward the entity that brings it forth and funnel it into activities that will force the bosses to treat us all more respectfully, monetary and otherwise, is beyond stupid, and only results in us hurting each other. I wish my co-workers could be more conscientious and aware. But until such time, I will be on the look-out for persons who try to block whatever perceived advantages that I may have.

When love goes wrong

There has been a spate of spousal and significant-other abuse cases in New York City. They have been shockingly brutal. Recently, within the span of two days, a man shot and killed his girlfriend and then himself. The next day another strangled his girlfriend and then hung himself, both to be found by their three year old child who was able to summon his aunt who lived next door by telling her his parents were dead. With the frequency of these abuse cases comes much concern from those of us reading these stories. I believe these horrific cases come about because many are having financial difficulties because of the economically uncertain times we live in, and when this is added to the regular every day problems of sustaining a relationship, lovers cannot cope, and often take it out on the one closest to them.

I wonder how things can go so wrong in a relationship. Every relationship, be they personal, romantic, or strictly business, has hard times. These times are usually comprised of problems that may seem insurmountable. But problems can be alleviated and seem less burdensome when one has the love of another enveloping their existence. Romantic relationships are the ones that keep you ensconced in a blanket of love and able to weather the daily barrage of every day problems all people of all persuasion incur because you know you have someone who cares about you to come home to. So why would a person turn on someone they purportedly love? Was there ever, really, any love there, and if there was, why could they not work it out and form a united front to solve the problem or maintain their relationship while dealing with a sustaining problem? What could possibly lead someone to such despair that they hurt someone they have laid down with, shared a life with, shared time, emotions, love?

There seems to be an ever increasing problem among a population of people who profess to love each other. The problem amongst partners is domestic abuse, and it is rippling throughout so many communities - rich, poor, young, old, gay and straight. It has happened in mind numbing regularity. And it is taking its toll on a generation of the offspring that have been born from these once calm but now hateful unions. Many of the children have witnessed the abuse of their beloved parents, and one can only hope they, when they are adults, will not continue the trends of partner abuse, though history evidences children of abuse often do. Children are often the secondary victim's of spousal abuse, and the most indefensible.

One can only hope the reports of such abuses that seemingly are occurring with more regularity diminish, if not cease, to exist. And whatever the reason for its existence, be it monetary stress, or the arrogance of the aggressor, it is something that is hurting society as a whole.

Anxious for New Money

There is a position for which I qualify that has been posted via my job's e-mail. I will be applying for this job clandestinely, and will not inform my superiors of my department. I hope that the position offers more money as the raise I recently received does not keep the wolf away from my door. When I met with my Director during my review he was extremely complimentary and said he could only give me but so much of a raise, and then told me I got a 4.5% increase. I just looked at him and blinked. My raise, what my employers call an increase, is not an increase to me because my salary before the increase was a joke. So 4.5% of 0 is essentially 0. I knew that I would not get a double digit raise, but crossed my fingers that I would be pleasantly surprised. And though I know my Director was somewhat sincere and has his hands tied somewhat behind his back, this raise amounts to nothing, and as such I must make moves. My applying for this job within my company will suffice for a first move of what I can be assured will be many in my quest to make enough money to subsist comfortably.

I have to gear myself to be scrutinized from head to toe; assessed to determine if I am good enough for the job, if I am qualified for the job, and will be brow beaten when interviewed, for the job. Essentially when going on job interviews I feel as though I am being judged and compared to all those who are applying for the position. This is a given and somewhat appropriate for the interviewer to do, but none the less, this type of scrutiny causes me angst. I must therefore put on more than my usual game face, and gear up for the challenge of being impressive in my eloquence and my presence. It is a damming exercise in fortitude when applying for a new job as it conjures up, for me, many insecurities, many of which are unfounded. But I will put these insecurities aside as monetary constraints are calling out to me as the victor in my inability to own a home, have money in my pocket, and purchasing groceries.
It's been about a year since my last job intrerview when I picked up part time Christmas seasonal work. It was so challenging for me that when I was done in the interview and told I would be hired, I cried, discreetly, on the bus home as it helped to release the tension that built up during the week before the interview. Job interviews have always proven to be, for me, excrutiatingly draining, though the interviewer would never know it. My game face and demeanor are always tight. However, inside my stomach is usually churning from nervousness. I will apply for this job as it is good to explore the possibilities of higher paying employment. I am comfortable with the duties of my current job, but not with its pay.

Comments of Inequity

The Presidential Candidates wife, Teresa Heinz Kerry's truly put her foot in her mouth with the comment:

Asked how she would be different from Mrs. Bush if Kerry won the Nov. 2 election, Heinz Kerry said: "Well, you know, I don't know Laura Bush. But she seems to be calm, and she has a sparkle in her eye, which is good. But I don't know that she's ever had a real job -- I mean, since she's been grown up."

I truly question how a woman with children could utter such nasty words about another woman with children. Is not having children a job, and I add, one of the most important jobs a person may have, the cultivation of a spirit, of a soul, of a human being? And further, this woman, who has been seemingly dignified in her stance as a companion to the leader of the free world, has "had a REAL job" as a teacher, which many would contend is, also, one of the most important jobs a society has as it molds the future of those who will make up future generations. Teachers are deemed the gateway through which persons embark on the rest of their lives.

So it is astonishing that a woman would make such a divisive comment about another. I once attended an appointment with a mid-wife. I, at that point had two children, and was, by choice, not gainfully employed, and upon laying on the exam table she asked if I worked outside of the home. That question floored me as it spoke volumes about her reverence for my having two children and the work that it entailed, and her wanting to understand, and not assume, if in addition to that hard work, did I also have a job that paid. In that one questioning sentence she validated all that I do in my working to raise my children in a non-paying capacity, and she subliminally saluted that effort. Often during this time of my life persons of my family, often female members, often my mother, would call me up and tell me to do their personal errands and the reason why I had to do them was pronounced boldly with an ending statement, "Oh you can do this for me 'cause your home all day and your not doing anything." Usually they heard a resounding click in their ear as I slammed down the phone after telling them what they could do with their requests.

It is clear that many women do not value all that women do on a daily basis, in the home. It is understandable, but not acceptable why a man would do so, but for women to not understand what other women go through on a daily basis in raising families and working outside of the home, and the work that all these endeavors entails, is astonishing. And for such a hurtful comment to come from someone who may be the companion of the new world leader and who may influence policies for women's rights within that capacity, is scary. Though Ms. Heinz Kerry has apologized for her statement, I believe in her first words as her true opinion of Ms. Bush. I believe that she, though she herself is a mother, does not think of it as a job, when it in fact is, and a most important job and as such, a labor of love.

To assume something about someone who has appeared to be a quiet dignified person is galling. Why did this woman think of another in an incorrect assuming way? Ms. Bush has worked outside of the home, and done so in a profession that is often not given its due respect. I can only think that because she has not had "glamorous" employment, has worked outside of the home as a teacher and a librarian, one of such stature as Ms. Heinz, who has worked in many philanthropic positions of employment, when looking at such a person as Ms. Bush, it is easy to assume, and thus be completely and rudely incorrect in the assumption. To assume anything about anyone is to be divisive. If one does not know something definitively, one should not assume as in doing so only mistakes will ensue, and these mistakes can be hurtful. And these mistakes can be very revealing as to the character of the assuming person.

I have a new opinion of Ms. Heinz Kerry.

What would you do?

Me and a group of friends were asked the question, "What would you do on the day you woke up and were at your best?" What would our lives encompass? Where would we find ourselves if we were at our best? I didn't verbalize my thoughts as many answered with long responses that told of their hopes of having better jobs/careers and of having made better choices in their lives that would have put them at a better place than they found themselves currently. All said, essentially, that they were not at their best and mapped a road that would lead them to their best. The question itself implied that the person asking didn't think they were at their best, not in an accusatory way, but a doubtful way, none the less. I didn't want to seem arrogant, so I did not respond to the question outwardly, but did so internally. My answer is that I am living my best every day that I awake.

I am sometimes frustrated, sometimes regretful, especially when I am feeling sorry for myself, but when I come out of the self-pitying party that I sometimes throw for myself, I realize I am blessed. When I awake, I am at my best because my children are surrounding me, my house is in order, I diligently pursue all that interests me like hobbies, travels, etc., my relationships are sturdy and stable, and I am happy. For me it is not the money I make nor the career that provides that desired money. It is the stability of my personal relationships with my children and my other significant members of my direct and extended family that make up the foundation of what makes me an accomplished person and makes me the best I can be. With the stability of these relationships, knowing I can go home and hear the giggling of my children, it is that which allows me to hurdle the seeming obstacles of life: jobs, careers, educational pursuits, etc., and be at my best while doing so.

I am currently at my best.

Random Acts

Sometimes during quiet moments I think about the course of my day, and remember the encounters I have with people who've I met, but with whom I am not friendly. Retrospectively, I think of the kind acts they have bestowed upon me, and smile.

When traveling, I sometimes realize, after sitting on the plane, that the person who checked me in gave me a better seat than the one presented on my ticket. When traveling on a trans-Atlantic 12 hour flight, I was pleasantly surprised with an upgrade that was given unbeknownst to me. I only realized after sitting that I have been upgraded to a seat that had 2 vacant next to me an was located in a front row of seats and the next row was about 12 feet in front of me allowing me ample room on all sides.

When arriving at John F. Kennedy Airport for a 2 1/2 week vacation, I forgot that JFK and all other airports in NYC have no post office boxes, and I had a bunch of mail that I erroneously thought I could drop off there. After remembering when I saw no post office boxes and inquired for confirmation that per 9/11 they had been yanked out, I asked a proprietor of a store what could one do to get their mail in a p.o. box, and he said he would mail it personally, after he inquired about the mail's contents. I blinked and thanked him profusely and offered to give him something for his effort which he refused.

I walked away with a big smile on my face. I was happy that my mail was going to be posted, but I was happy more so because someone understood my situaltion and out of the goodness of their heart did something for me, a stranger, and that made me feel good.

There are so many incidents of this kind that after getting home I think about and am able to fill me up with the goodness that they exude. The guy who reached a seat on the train that we were both aiming for, who sees me, bows, and lets me have it. The lady who holds the door open for me. The woman walking behind me who sees that the tag to my shirt is sticking out of my blouse and sticks it in saying she does that all the time too, and no one tells her, so she is not only telling me but putting it down my shirt. These nice acts are the ones that pile up in my mind into a mound of goodness. And I often am not able to drink up this goodness until I get home as when they are happening they go by so quickly. But though they are quick, they are meaningful. They, these kind acts, make up the fabric of everyday existence.

It is moments like these, random acts of kindness, that re-enforce my view of the world. My view can be somewhat clouded at times by the few, but none the less, devastating acts of nastiness that I sometimes encounter, but I do believe in the good of people. I believe this good is inherent.

Escapism

I am a person who values the art of the escapism. Once I close the door to my home, and sit down, I can peel away the pressures that I've endured during my usual hectic days by reading, writing or viewing movies and television. These are the various escape routes that I take to rejuvenate and acquiesce to and release pressures that are a never ending part of my existence.

Writing has always allowed me an outlet via which I can express all that I cannot say in a non-confrontational way, and in a complete way. Often when saying things to those that I wish to express a particular point much is left unsaid because the words did not come at the appropriate time. However, when I write there is time to contemplate the exact words that are needed to express the internal feelings. The time for contemplating allows for the perfect words that formulate all that I want to say.

Renting DVD's and cable is wonderful for me. When hearing of a boxing match or another sporting event that's coming on cable or opening my mailbox to see the brightly colored envelopes containing movies, of my choice, is exhilarating as I can wrap myself in the moments of the movie or the sporting event, and take pleasure in what I am viewing. I can escape in the abilities of the writer of the movie or the sportsmanship of the opponents of the event I am a witness to, and drink up their efforts. I am mystified by good movies, and like to dissect how the writer composed the lines, and try to understand the writers' intent. The sports matches are always intriguing as I imagine all of the sacrifices a caliber athlete has put into the precise moment at which I see them. They have prepared for years for a moment that may last only seconds and do so with the great hope that they will be victors. They do so in front of countless people, some live and some via television, who are there to analyze and observe their feats. Books have always fascinate me in their abilities to take me to the moment being described. The power of words has always been such a mystifying yet satisfying thing to me, and I relish a book that has an abundance of such. I am in awe of those people who produce the entities that allow my escapism. The awe is equally distributed for all those involved in providing me an avenue to release my pressures; the writers, the actors, the athletes, the camera man, etc. All that they do is art and through this art I can escape in its beauty.

Prism of Racism

A sorry tale of Hilton's latest tape
'DUMB' AND DUMBER? A newly surfaced Paris Hilton video reportedly includes an ugly racial remark.
-->Paris Hilton has two faces - and one of them is very, very ugly.
In a recently surfaced 12-hour videotape, Hilton is shown in a rather disturbing scene with two African-American men who ask her if she would model their fashion line.
Hilton, standing with pal Brandon Davis, is polite to the men, but calls them "dumb n--s" after they leave, according to British reporter Carole Aye Maung, who reviewed the tape.
"Two ... guys begin talking to her," Maung told us. "She's being very, very sweet to them. [But] she definitely uses the N-word. It's so cruel, because they were so lovely, and she was being so lovely to them."
Hilton's reps refused to comment when asked about this specific incident on the tape, first uncovered by Star magazine.
According to Maung, the marathon recording includes footage of Hilton "making love" with Nick Carter in the back of a car, greeting one-time boyfriend Jason Shaw in the nude and rolling a "cigarette."
She jokes: "It'll be Paris Hilton Two: How to roll a joint."
It's doubtful she's laughing today.

The above blurb was in The NY Daily News yesterday and proved to be very disturbing to many. But for some it validates what is already intrinsically known to many minorities. One can be as dignified and polite as is possible when in the company of a person who is of another race, and who is being equally as dignified and polite, and know that they are being thought of as less than by that person. Many instances in my life I have been treated amicably by someone and have found out later that they did things behind my back and/or conveyed thoughts about me to others that were racists.

A medium that misrepresents whatever is seen through it is the definition of Paris Hilton. She is the manifestation of a prism as she is a blond, blue-eyed White woman who is a beneficiary of The Hilton Hotel legacy and fortune. As such she is thought to be wholesome via her background. What is seen through her is a life that is wholesome. She had a home video made with her knowledge that showed her cavorting, sexually and under the influence of drugs, with a man, and was forgiven. Her public relations people were able to spin the tale of a young impressionable girl who was taken advantage of by her older former boyfriend.

But from the aforementioned blurb the prism that is Ms. Hilton is being seen as an entity within and of itself. That prism is the manifestation of hate. The vileness and hatefulness of her comments are such that conjure memories for many who have strived to be the best they can be and are thwarted by small minded persons who talk the talk but live a life that is racist and when having the ability, choose to subjugate those who are just trying to live honestly. Why did she not just say she did not want to deal with the men who approached her? Instead she pulled the subliminal racism that is often practiced by those who feel they are educated. She acted as if she was interested, and was accepting of their views. But when the men left, she spewed her hateful comments. I have always been a proponent of allowing people of the KKK the right to freedom of speech as I want to know who my enemies are. I want them to be easily identifiable, and what easier way in which that can happen than for my enemies to voice their views. Persons like this Paris thing who never voice their views publicly, who whisper in private their racist thoughts, after speaking sweetly to the face of the person they think they are superior to, is the supreme enemy in the fight against hatred.

How does one fight an enemy that one can't see, that one can not identify? Well this particular enemy, P. Hilton, subliminal racist that she is, busted herself, live and in color. It can only be hoped that everything she touches is boycotted and her 15 minutes of infamy is up.

Videos are a wonderful invention, aren't they?