A Beer Festival: A Volunteer's Perspective in Pros and Cons

Yesterday afternoon I spent a few hours volunteering at Wrecking Bar's second annual Strong Beer Festival: a festival comprised of all Georgia beers, all over 8% ABV, many brewed especially for this event.  I've been attendees at festivals like these before (Decatur Beer Festival; Sweetwater's Brew Your Cask Off) and have volunteered at others (East Atlanta Beer Festival, Atlantic Station's Beer Circus) and in thinking about them all, I'm kind of surprised myself that I enjoy volunteering more than I do attending.

I find I really like serving people!  I reckon if I had a job doing it daily it would get old really quickly for me, but since I don't, it's fun.  I get to have mini 3-5 minute conversations with a whole bunch of different folks while serving them up tasty good brews, which means everyone is usually in a good, happy mood.  It makes for a fun, low-pressure kind of day (especially as a volunteer; can't lose my job if I mess up, right?) and I tend to always leave feeling upbeat.

Yesterday's event, however, left me holding a mixed bag of Pros and Cons.  I do think the Pros outweigh the Cons, but I was disappointed in how some of the day turned out.   All of it had to do with the planning and execution of the event  as it affected me personally, and I so want to give the planners a pass on some of it.  I work in a planning industry and Lord Knows that as an attendee and event worker, it's easy to criticize the folks who worked their butts off putting it together by acting like you could do it better yourself.  I'm not saying that.  But if the volunteer organizers decide to ask for feedback from us, I just might point them here.

Let's start with some Pros, shall we?

Pro:  Super good pre-organization

When I first volunteered to work in person, I received a follow-up email within a day to confirm my interest. Makes a volunteer feel appreciated.  A week before the event, received the instructions of where to go, where to park and what time to show up early so we could be educated on where we would be and what beers we'd personally be serving (which becomes important later). We also got really cool long-sleeved t-shirts which is always a bonus in my book.

Pro: I got an awesome station placement

When I checked in, I learned I was actually going to be the one volunteer behind the main bar in the Beirgarten, with the rest of the servers there being actual employees of Wrecking Bar Brewpub (again, this becomes important later).  Our station consisted of a 20 ft. long bar that was open on one end: I was stationed at the far end that was closed off by a half wall overlooking the brewery below.  However, my spot was one of the first ones people saw when they made their way into the room from the outside; I had a couple attendees even ask me how I managed to get a primo spot. Since most folks entered the room from an inside stairway on the other end and pack in there instead, it wasn't overwhelmingly crowded most of the time and because it also formed a natural little "corner," folks tended to hang out there sometimes and I had opportunity on down times to chat with them about beer, life, the football games on the big screens hanging around us and whatnot.  So that was super fun too.

Pro: I had outstanding beers behind my station

The two I were most responsible for were a single hop double IPA from Coastal Empire out of Savannah and a Belgian-style Russian Imperial Stout out of Cumming -- and they were both fantastic.  Others included a Scottish Ale, another chocolate stout and -- HA! Low and behold? My own dear Orpheus Brewing's offering of "The 12th Labour" imperial stout!  Now, I don't know if the volunteer organizer remembered I volunteer regularly at Orpheus and that's why I was placed there or not, but if she did, that was awesome. If she didn't? It was a very serendipitous coincidence because I totally got to pimp them out by suggesting their brew when someone asked for a suggestion.  (And it was one of the only two kegs we actually killed before the end of the event. Aw yeah!)

Con: A station mate issue

I was stationed with two other Wrecking Bar employees, both of whose names I know but neither of which I will mention here for reasons you'll soon see.  Woman #1 was really pretty cool and informed me how our area was going to work (six different beers, but only one set of taps working so we'd work off pitchers instead). I was on the far end as I mentioned; she on the other far end and Woman #2 in the middle.  When we ran low, we could pass the pitcher and get it refilled.  The weather was cool enough and the beers flowing enough that there was no risk of them getting warm or anything.

Woman #2, however, was the most impersonal, lazy human being I have met in a long time.  She found a stool to sit on and sat close to Woman #1 (her colleague) the whole first hour, leaving me to run back and forth down 2/3rds of the bar taking care of folks because she couldn't give two poops to stand up and help someone or bother to even look at the people standing at the bar with empty glasses in need of a fill, let alone a pitcher I needed to pass to her.  I ended up bringing her pitchers of beer closer to my station instead so I didn't have to run back and forth so much while she did  diddly squat.  I really didn't mind....at first.  I was having fun, first of all. But more importantly, my job here was to serve. Even as a volunteer, it was my job.  And it was more important to me that the attendees were taken care of than the frustrations I was feeling about #2.

Woman #1 checked in on me every time I stepped over to refill a pitcher. Honestly, she was pretty awesome. And I answered honestly that I was good and having a great time.  But by the third time, at the start of hour two, when she asked I told her I was frustrated.  She truly seemed concerned and asked if I was overwhelmed? I was honest with her, with Woman #2 even being in ear shot if she cared to listen.  I told her, "not at all. I'm just frustrated. But, hey. I'm a *volunteer* so I figure if I ever get frustrated enough, I can just pick up my shit and leave at any time." Still truly concerned (even more so, I'd say), she asked why.  So I explained (because I'm so timid like this, haha) that maybe if I said screw this and left, Woman #2 might actually have to step up and work some?

I daresay the looks that crossed her face in all of about 3 seconds were: surprise I said it, recognition of what I said and then a look of understanding as if she may have noticed or experienced it with #2 in the past herself.   She must have said something to #2 when I was out of earshot again because #2 ended up stepping up for a brief while.  But then she disappeared from the station altogether for the rest of the event and a couple other gentlemen employees rotated in and out instead.  It was much better after that.

Maybe Woman #2 was just over it all because it was what she did for a living after all.  Maybe she thought serving without the possibility of tips or return customers wasn't worth the same effort as a normal shift.  Who knows. But I'm assuming, as an actual employee, she must have been being paid somehow?  So find a work ethic, chick. Or next time ask to be in a station with someone who doesn't mind being walked all over instead.  Because that ain't me.

Which leads me to this one:

Con: Only being stationed with employees and not volunteers

It's a different dynamic if you have to work the shift as opposed to volunteering to be there. Employees may have just come off a shift (or double) or have to work the one after the event (or double).  It's frustrating and tiring; they're overworked and underpaid.  Volunteers are there because they want to be and bring an energy and spirit that is understandable that an employee might not.  Planners? Please always always always put at least a couple of volunteers together to at least keep that energy and fun up, if not just for the attendees but for the volunteers as well.  I pretty much felt like I worked this *by myself* yesterday.  Though all of the other employees (except Woman #2) were super sweet and nice, they mostly congregated together in the opposite corner and talked amongst themselves and I was left on the end of the bar by myself.  I'm sure if I walked down by them, they would have happily included me, but then I wouldn't have been doing my job at my station. Thankfully, I have high enough energy and can make my own fun, and talking to the folks who came up for beer was enough to keep me going. But that's not enough for some volunteers and even I have to admit it would have been nice to have another one with me by choice to be there instead of on payroll.

Pro: (figure I have to have one after that diatribe) Fun and Fantastic Brew Masters

The event featured all Georgia-based breweries and, though it didn't occur to me until later? Of *course* they were going to hang out by their beer stations now and again to overhear what folks were saying about their offerings. So I got to see and chat with a few folks from my beloved Orpheus (a couple of whom, when noticing me, asked: "hey! what are you doing here?" *grin*) and meet other really cool people from the others.  And ALL of them were so gracious and friendly and seemed appreciative of volunteer help. Some were wearing clothing from their establishment so I knew who they were when they walked up.  But some weren't. I remember one gentleman walking up to me and asking which one he should try.  I was totally in love with the Belgo Ruskie in my domain, so I explained what it was and how it was made and that it was most delicious and how he had to try it.   It was at that point that he explained it was the one from his brewery. Ha!  Got me!  (But, phew! In a good way!) We shook hands and chatted; told him how I had already met his other business partner and he thanked me because he had heard folks in the other rooms already recommending to friends to head down to Station #37 because it was coming highly recommended and there was a friendly girl behind the bar.  Heh heh. Because at these things, it's not only my job to pour a beer, but to pimp it out and make sure everyone leaves with a good impression of the experience. Right?

Which leads me to a Con. :(

Con: There was no instruction on beers or pouring

Since this is all high-gravity beer, the pours were supposed to be only 2-3 oz. each.  Alll attendees had 16 drink coupons to use.  (Thus, they chose where to "spend" them, which is why I totally pimped out my favorites.) Everyone had to use the official glass of the festival, but no one ever taught me, as volunteer, what 2-3 oz. looked like in that glass.  At Orpheus, I know where to pour in order to keep things legal.  Here? I just kind of guessed. Again, I figured if I poured too much, they could always "fire me" -- haha. But I was concerned Wrecking Pub would get in legal trouble if I served more than I should.  By hour two, I didn't care anymore though.  Figured if no one cared to instruct me, I'll just do my best on my own judgement.

In addition, the "arrive early so you can be instructed on your beers" thing?  Yeah. Never happened. Had to find a flyer myself and read up about the beers so I could at least pronounce the names right and describe them to folks. Because at specialty brewfests like these? People *want* to know.  I didn't even know where 5 out of these 6 breweries were even located in Georgia!  Thank heavens for technology: I Googled them all on my own so when people asked (and they did), I could speak intelligently on them.

That being said?  This leads to a Pro based on the above entry.

Pro: Did I mention all the proprietors I met were awesome?

When I learned the owners or brew masters of each establishment were hanging around now and again, I asked *them* instead what they would like me to tell them about their brewery if folks asked.  How I should describe their beer, when their tasting hours were, if they could be found in local stores and whatnot.  Made notes. Because I'm a geek like that. :)  I guess I just figured if I was here to serve the attendees, I was also here to serve them, too. A couple of them even came back and asked me about any feedback I might have heard when people took their first sip (the folks from Coastal Empire told me: "good, bad or ugly - spill!") and it was awesome to be able to do that for them.

Con: Break? What break?

The pre-event email mentioned someone would come around to give volunteers a break in their four hour shift. Perhaps it was because I was with real employees instead of an all-volunteer squad, but it never happened.  Granted, I didn't need one. Four hours is nothing to me.  And when I needed a restroom break, I didn't mince words: just told Woman #1 (Woman #2 was long gone) that I was stepping out for 3 minutes and would be right back.  But this is one I do put on the planners and organizers: don't forget about your volunteers.  You need them for events like these, right? And we're happy to help.  As much fun as I was having, it was a little disappointing to not get that break and actually watch other volunteers on theirs come up to sample my offerings (was pimping them out afterall haha!) and not have the chance to do the same during a brief 10-15 minute reprise.

And now, I just have to leave on a Pro.  Because it's me, of course.

Pro:  Random "hey! I know you!" sightings and invitations to other events

And this is the bonus to working events like this.  Helping out small businesses and seeing friends you already know is wonderful.  But you also never ever know who you're going to meet or run into again.  Case in point? A gentleman early in the afternoon asked for a beer, I filled it and we started talking.  He then stopped and said: "hey. I know you!"  I didn't know from where, but he did look familiar so we pondered on that. He threw out different things -- all beer related, of course. It's only natural at events like this -- and then I saw the light bulb go off on his face and he said, "wait! you're friends with (mutual friend)?"  Ding ding ding!  We had met at a Super Bowl party said friend had had at her place almost 4 years ago now.  :)  How lovely!  I asked how often he got down to this neck of the woods (mine) instead of theirs (an hour away) and he said often; there are a lot of little events here he likes to attend, many of which involve folks who like to try their hand at brewing at home and then gathering Sunday mornings before you can drink in Georgia to try each others' over a breakfast spread. (Oh, so not my cup o' tea at all) ;-)  Then he introduced me to a friend who hosts them and invited me to join anytime I want.  We exchanged contact information.  Yay, small world.

So that's that on yesterday's volunteer experience at Wrecking Bar's Second Annual Strong Beer Festival.  Would I volunteer for this event again? After writing out the Pros and Cons, I'm leaning toward yes.  The Cons I experienced could easily be overcome by considering the disappointments this year and explaining them if anyone wants feedback.  And in the end, I still had a lovely afternoon because I know, ultimately, it's always my choice to make an afternoon lovely or not.

It's always my choice to end on a Pro or a Con. :)

Story Time!

Story time!



Okay, so people just did NOT want to leave the brewery where I volunteer tonight. It was so funny.  We cut off the taps at 8pm and a half hour later, even without beer, people were still standing around, chatting, not wanting to leave.  As a volunteer, this is both frustrating when you want to go home and really tickling to see how well the place is doing!

But because of this, I was also able to walk around and actually talk a little bit to some of the patrons after my shift; more so than I can when I'm working anyway.  And a fun holiday decoration debate came up.

One woman pulled me aside and said: "Okay! Question: those icicle Christmas lights, right? The ones that dangle and look like icicles instead of just normal tree lights? Are they meant to go on the inside or outside?"

Now, I figured I was settling a bet among friends.  But I answered in the only correct way: outside, of course!  They're *icicles!* Icicles don't grow INSIDE!

"Thank you!!" she replied and promptly smacked her girlfriend and said, "See? It's OUTSIDE. So, no, you cannot put those on our tree."  I suggested a happy compromise (around the ceiling molding or breakfast bar perhaps?) and she agreed that'd be OK. But her girlfriend just looked at me with a solid stare and asked, "okay. But where is this written, huh?" And they both and their gentleman friend looked at me, on the spot I was!

I replied, lowering my voice and leaning in, "it's not actually *written*.  But there's a secret society of We Who Know who make sure it's passed down verbally like in the old days, you see."  They laughed. "Oh? A secret society?!" said girlfriend, challenging me. "I suppose that's headed by *Santa*?!"  The first woman laughed and said, "yes, of course!" and they all looked at me again.  I told them: "I can neither confirm nor deny that," flipped my hair, turned sharply away and walked off dramatically... to the sound of all of them laughing.

I'm not sure why, but I was just so tickled by the whole thing.  Maybe it was because it was so silly and fun.  And more than a little bit because I was so clearly "the help" and they still pulled me into their circle for such merriment.  But probably definitely because it just reminds me how lucky I am to have a place I get to go to have fun, meet new people, have exchanges like this and am reminded that a stranger just might always be a friend you just haven't met yet.

People are awesome.

Oh, and I'm so right about the icicle lights thing too.

Working with Millennials.... Blah Blah Blah

Go to your favorite search engine and type in "working with Millennials" and a whole bunch of pages, articles, tips and suggestions come up.  There are classes built around this topic today even: how to engage them, keep them interested or on task.  Most teach you tips on how to reach them or get the performance out of them you need in your work place.

And I'm so sick and tired of it all.

Listen, folks: I get that different generations have different upbringings.  Different technology, ways they were taught in school and definitely some advantages they can bring into a workplace being fresh and new and full of all these new things.

But where are *their* classes in working with the generations before them?  Why is it up to those who have been in the work environment long before encouraged to keep their processes in mind and not vice versa?

I'm not sure this applies to many of you, but for those of you who work in a "people industry" like I do, it does.  It's ever-changing and dynamic and I love that.  It's a whole bunch of generations working together: Boomers, X, Y, etc. And I love that too.  But this emphasis I see on how to work with the newest generation each time instead of any focus at all in working with the older ones  is starting to stick in my craw.

It's giving the perception that the generations that came before have nothing that should be adopted instead.  Case in point:  a phone call is sometimes much more warranted than an email.  But the teachings these days show each younger generation are more into emailing, texting or IMing than picking up the phone.  Should that be acceptable?  Just because it's the sign of our times, does it mean it's a *correct* sign of our times?  When each new generation graduates and comes into the work environment, do we always need to adapt to them and their ways instead of asking them to understand ours and at least meet us halfway?

I'm fortunate enough that I am one of those old dogs you can teach new tricks.  Firmly ensconced as a Gen X (didn't even have an email address until after college!), I take to technology well and have incorporated into my professional career when it didn't even exist much when said career started.  I'm also fortunate enough that I have colleagues of all these ranges and most of them seem to know when to stop clicking away in an open chat window and walk the few feet to my desk to talk in person instead. 

But the emphasis on how to work with, motivate and even *keep interested* each new generation makes me wonder.  Where did a work ethic go?  Where did the concept of  "paying your dues" and learning from older mentors get lost instead of expecting those more experienced to adapt to them instead?

And then: did *I* come off this way to the Baby Boomers too? ;-)

The Downside of Social Media

When did it become acceptable to end a personal friendship simply by unfriending them on Facebook?

Maybe I don't understand Facebook like others.  I consider it an extension of a friendship and not the friendship on a whole.  So when I have a disagreement or argument with a friend and then find they immediately unfriend me, it gets me to wondering what on earth this world is coming to sometimes.

Now, don't get me wrong.  People can unfriend for many reasons and it's totally understandable.  You meet folks at a gathering, have a fun time and add each other.  Then, weeks later realize you have really nothing in common so: unfriend.  Or you recognize you have dozens and dozens of friends in common, whether from high school or college, a social group or whatnot, so you add.  And then, weeks later realize you'll probably never interact anyway so: unfriend.   It IS a social network after all and the point is to be social.  If you're not being social, where's the point?  And in my own personal case, I totally understand why acquaintances might let me go.  I post a lot.  And I muddy up feeds.  I've had some folks tell me they're doing it because of that, or won't respond to any of my things because they hate stupid notifications they get after they do.  And that I completely get and truly appreciate when I get the messages telling me why.

But in the past year, I've also now had a few friends unfriend me without any discussion as to why and I only find out because I go to write to them and find out we're not friends anymore.  These aren't people mentioned in above scenarios; they're real friends (so to speak) that I've had for years, even decades, who I've spent time with, broke bread with, took trips with, went through the ups and downs of life with.  And then after one not-so-pleasant conversation, they decided that was enough to say no more.  Not to give me the courtesy to *tell* me no more or even why, but just to let me find out on my own and in a very public forum.

*Sigh*  I'm beginning to realize the downside of this medium.

Because in the past? Before the time of Facebook, Twitter and whatnot? If you got in a fight with a loved one, you gave each other cooling off time and then approached each other to work out whatever differences, real or perceived, were there. Now it seems it's okay to invite all your other mutual friends into your personal one-on-one issue.  Because people notice when folks aren't friends anymore.  And they ask.  Out of curiosity or concern or whatever, they ask.  It becomes a big ol' ""fuck you, I don't need you! And I don't care who knows it!"  Instead of a "hey. I just will keep some space for a while and decide whether to revisit that relationship again" on the private, personal, adult level it should be. 

Is it a flippant reaction out of anger or hurt with no thought behind it?  Perhaps.  I've had that happen to me too and, so surprised at it I was, I contacted that friend to ask if there was a way I harmed her and if there was a way I could make amends had I.  She instantly responded that she was so sorry she had done it; it was in a moment of confusion and the fact I reached out made her realize I really did care for her.  I was tickled to accept her friend request again.  I think we're even better friends today after that.

But it's really a hard way to test a friendship.  Not that any of these people are consciously doing that -- I'm just asking: when did it become acceptable to end a personal friendship in this way instead of picking up the phone, sending an email or even a letter?  Social media makes it far too easy to decide not to work through problems and just to say screw it.  And as much as I love the medium, that makes me very sad. 

I'm Calling a Mulligan...Or Not.

What the hell even.



Man, it's been a year.

Not a calendar year, mind you. But damn. In the last 12 months, it's been a "What the hell even" kind of year.

An accident where I broke my jaw and got wired shut for a month.  Then, seven months later getting shingles (seriously?! SHINGLES?! Am I even old enough for that crap?!) and honestly wanting someone to kill me the first few days I had them, they were that horrible. (I swear it might have been worse than the wiring shut, it was that bad). And then my dear, dear Aunt passing away.  Just like Daddy, the time between diagnosis and Final Call was weeks, not months or years. So unfair.  And a dear, dear friend losing her own best friend in the same way.

What the hell even.




WTH.

Shouldn't there be some sort of reprise for this? A "Get Out of Jail" card that says: you've had enough!  We'll wait 'til next year for more of this craptastic stuff because you've had enough already?!

Funny, though.  Reprises come in unexpected ways even when you're that pissed at the whole gaddangged world.  Even when life is shit like that (pardon my French)?

I had:

A friend who took me to lunch with his friends and said, "I got this. You've been through enough. Save your money."

A colleague who I didn't think even knew what I'd been going through who came by my desk and remembered enough to say: "your aunt? I'm so sorry. She was the one who always sent you the religious charms and prayer books right?"

 (And makes  you cry. In a good way.)

A sister who sends you pictures of your beloved nephew just to make you smile.

And a brother who tells you to suck it up (kindly) and sends you silly cards just to make you smile. And, well, to suck it up. :)

And friends. Like all y'all who send private messages of love and support through it all.  Or post things on my social media pages saying "this reminds me of you."  Or even, "get the hell over this shit, Stacy, you can do it!" Or "A day without Stacy's silliness is missed."


And I realize that even if I want a "do over" in many ways, in others I don't.

I'd SO love to call a mulligan on this entire past year.  But only because of my own pain and suffering and for those of my friends' and family.  Because, otherwise,  if I had to do a "do over" on it all?


I probably would have forgotten or taken for granted how lucky I am to have all y'all in my life.  Thank you all.


But, on an aside?

I HATE golf. Can't believe I even know that term enough to use it here even.  Next thing you know, I'll be throwing out NASCAR terms too. ;-)

You want to live where I live. Trust me. :)

This evening I did a shot in honor of Wisconsin's brilliant judgement tonight for equal rights (can I get a woo hoo?) but then I decided I needed a beer to follow up. Had none (bad planning Stacy), but there are $2 bullets at the convenience store just a 2-block walk down the street (don't judge: I'm a city girl) so threw on the flip flops and walked down for my chaser.

On the way, I stopped and chatted with two gentlemen about this most serious conundrum: capris and whether men should wear them or not? And if the answer is yes, does the shoe choice matter?  Discuss.  ;-)

Saw another man "vogue-ing" in front of me as we passed a club playing that Madonna song, yelled out loud I was vogue-ing behind him and he turned around and we had a 3-minute dance routine on the sidewalk as folks stopped and laughed and joined in as his companion clapped on in glee.  Got applause, but no money thrown.  Dangit. Gotta try harder next time. ;-)

On my way home, I was behind two beautiful women with their escort so remarked, "I'm a fast walker, so I'd usually ask ya'll to step aside or move faster, but the view here made me rethink that."

They all turned around, laughed out loud and then stopped and stood and chatted for about 15 minutes before we all left onward to our own destinations. 

Oh! Oh, folks, this is what's life about.

Have fun. Connect.  Talk to strangers, make each other smile.

We're all in it for the long run. Let's make it nice. :)

100 Happy Days?

I finally caught on today that there's a movement out there that's "#100happydays", encouraging folks to find something happy in every day for 100 straight and post a picture and talk about it.

Which, by the way? Is awesome.

But it's actually how I feel every day anyway.  The fact that there's a movement out there and people are making efforts in doing it makes me think:  damn. I just *might* be  that friggin' annoying sometimes to folks.  Huh. #EyeOpener

I had an amazing weekend despite myself.

I had an amazing weekend despite myself.

This weekend was, in a word (prefaced with an adverb) absolutely amazing.  I had the chance to visit and lunch with long-time Zoner friends Aron and Jacki and Scott and Anne.  I met up with even longer-time college and Greek friends Elizabeth and Matt and get to meet Elizabeth's dear friend Julie.  I brunched with a hasher-turned friend Sara and meet her lovely girlfriends and dear nieces.  And then had a chance to play trivia with Aron again and three of his friends who I've now met on a few occasions and are some of the nicest gentlemen I've ever met.  Somewhere in the time among all of that, I also had fun conversations with my high school girlfriends (Vani, Kelly, Laura, Marsha, Mare, Ginny; who did I miss?) electronically and even got my laundry and grocery shopping done.  Amazing, right?

But it all happened despite myself.

Because I almost backed out of each and every one of those things.

I'm so glad I didn't.  Even as I considered making my excuses, I knew if I just motivated that I would love the experience when I went.  It's just that sometimes the motivation gets....hard.

The easy part: groceries? Bah. I always have soup cans in the pantry so shopping can be put off for another day.  Same thing for laundry.  Easy as pie to hand wash a blouse at home to wear the next day instead of making it to the launders to do a few loads.  The personal thing is a little more difficult.

My work, though I love it, can sometimes drain me a little.  It's my job to always be upbeat and helpful and, well, in a way? Social.  And I do love that: where some folks hate cubical-land? I hate office-with-a-door land!  I love being in the middle of everyone, hearing everything, being able to eaves drop and pitch in to help out. And as much as I'd love to work from home some days, it would kill me a little bit every day inside if I had to do that every day and never got out to see others.  But, all that being said? I'm not as social as it may seem sometimes.

I love my downtime.  I love taking long walks (on the beach) through the neighborhood alone or curling up (with my cat) with my book. I actually more often than not feel awkward in social situations than comfortable.  And when I have a long, trying (but productive) week at work where I have to be spot-on, I sometimes just crave hiding away from the world for a few days.  Or at least not having to get dressed or showered and leave my cozy little home to venture out to be with other people instead of just posting a status or two online.

So when this weekend was approaching and I saw how many things were socially on my calendar?  I actually kinda freaked out a little bit.  But, backing up a little:

Today at the grocery store, the attendant checking my groceries stopped, looked up at me and asked me what I did for a living. I told her the basics (media and events in the travel and tourism industry) and she just smiled and said, "I could tell. You're a people-person like me."  And I took that as a huge compliment and we chatted a bit more --probably to the chagrin of the person behind me-- but the more I've thought about it tonight, the more I realized just how much that comment really means to me.

Because, if I'm going to be honest here? (And where can you be if not in your own blog?) It tickles me that people think that of me when I know that sometimes I just don't feel it about myself.  It occurs to me that those who are not thought of as "people persons" get more Get Out of Jail Free cards, if you will, than those who are perceived as those who are. (And, yep, it makes me irrationally angry!)  When people know a friend or colleague is an introvert or the "quiet type", it is never taken as a personal slight if they don't join in or make plans or are moody or any of those things.  But if you're that "people person",  it's often taken wrong the one moment that you're not On Game.

So, back to the point of all of this.  I knew my lunch with Zoners would be amazing (as it always is), but still walked in wondering if I might have done something wrong because one of them I had always played an app game with suddenly stopped playing. And then I went to meet up with old college friends I hadn't seen for years and wondered if it would be OK and comfortable.  Next came brunch with only one woman I knew, with relatives of hers and friends I had never met.  Finalized with a dear friend inviting me to an exclusive invite-only trivia tournament with people who just really met me less than a month ago.

I wanted to run and hide.

But I didn't.  So, despite myself? I went and did all of these things and my weekend was (prefaced with an adverb) absolutely amazing.

And now I'm going to sleep tonight, ready to be spot-on again in my work week because I have all those folks mentioned above who help me come out of my comfort zone to helped me make my life amazing. :

Despite myself. :-)

Meeting Good Girlfriends is Hard. Ha!

Starting this out crude: I call bullshit on that mess.

I've heard it time and time again: that at a certain age, usually after she leaves college, that it's hard for a woman to meet new good girlfriends.  Countless articles are written about it; I've had my own acquaintances say the same thing. Google "adult women hard to find women friends" and you'll see countless opinions about why it is so hard.

I call bullshit. I don't get it.. As a woman of that age (after college -- how may years removed we don't need to get into), I've never discovered that to be a problem unless you want to use it a an excuse.

You want to sit at home with your cat(s) each night (because you know you have them)? Yeah, it's going to be hard to meet a new girl friend then unless that food delivery person you just ordered from is female and actually does want to come in and have the glass of wine you offered out of loneliness.  But if you have interests and are not afraid of doing those by yourself and are willing to talk to others? It's ridiculously easy.

I know the excuses.  I'm single; she's married.  I don't have kids; she does.  I work full time; she's a stay-at-home-Mom.  Nothing in common, right? It's silly, honestly. Because those are surface things when it comes to friendships.  Friendships transcend life experiences. In fact, I dare to say that's what would make you good friends in the first place. Who wants someone *exactly* like you are anyway?

In the 17 years I've been in Atlanta, I've moved around quite a bit.  Sometimes by choice (ooh! raise! let's rent this sweeter condo!) and sometimes by circumstance (thank you, friend, for letting me move in for half a year when my company downsized and I was looking for work).  I'm finally pleasantly settled in my own abode but in all those moves?  All I ever met were great women -- all who are friends to this day. And I met one or two on each adventure. :)

Unemployed? I went out once to throw off steam and watch a Packer game and met my friend Jennifer, who just happened to walk into the same bar that day with a Packer jersey on. Four years later, she hosted my 40th birthday party in her home.

Jobbed-up again? Found a little watering hole halfway on my trip from work to home and met Tammy there when I had to blow off some steam. Found a fellow hockey fanatic who I'm still in touch with all the time; we went to a Thrashers game as "blue haired ladies" a year after I moved from her.

Another job took me miles away again, but I went out to trivia one night and met Penny.  We threw back a beer or two, played some Keno and became friends.  I dog sat for her; she helped me move to where I am now.  Again, we still keep in touch.

And now, where I am, I met Paula, who just happened to be the girlfriend of the guy who lived across the street and was fortunate enough (for me) on a random evening to wander onto the front lawn where I was having a glass of wine in the summer twilight with another girl friend (who I met four years before based on a mutual interest of running).

Did I have everything in common with each of these ladies? Nope. Jennifer was practically engaged when I met her; Tammy is a home owner. Penny has been married for years now and Paula is my wild-child loving heart who's actually a grandmother.  I have nothing of those things in common with them, but somehow it works.  And it was EASY to make friends with these ladies.  And they're all my true friends that I met LONG after those college days of "it'd be hard to meet girl friends after this."  Even if we can't see each other as often as we want, they're my friends. I daresay they think it too.

So that whole diatribe about it being hard to meet good, lovely, quality women after a certain age? Bah. I call BS on that based on experience. I have no problem meeting good girl friends. Ignore those articles, my girl friends, my little sisters in my sorority, my younger colleagues. It's not a problem. For real.

Meeting men, however? Someone needs to teach me a trick or two on that. ;-)

Irrational Pet Peeves

And note by the title that you should already be reading this in the irrational mindset I set up. Ready? Let's go.

Peeving on my pets about this:

1.) People who don't understand that "U R so funny!" is okay in a text or in a tweet when you're trying to save characters, but not in an email or a Facebook response. Seriously? Are you just that lazy that you can't spell it out?  Ugh! And they wonder why society is going to pot.  They do it because of things like #2. Which is totally re-donkulous in my opinion.

2.) Using umbrellas when it's snowing. Seriously, what is up with that?!  I get rain. I get keeping sun off you (especially for you albinos. Yep, I'm probably not PC there. Pigment-challenged? Okay, pretend I said that instead.). But SNOW? Not an umbrella-using precipitation moment. Wear a hat. Enjoy whitey flakes.

(Damn!. That's probably not PC either, is it? Whitey flakes?) Which leads to....

3.) Having to be PC *all the friggin time!* It's exhausting. Folks, consider the source. If you think the person saying or writing what they say or write is actually a true racist? Just don't even have them in your social circles to begin with. Just go away. Send them off into the universe....which may or may not have started with a Big Bang, I'm thinking.

Damn, did it again. And now it's venturing into religious beliefs.

So onward.

4.) What I've been seeing more and more of lately annoys the living daylights outta me: using "Nicca" in replace of the already bastardized "N" word. I get not saying the N-word. Totally. Never would use that word and totally understand why not. But now it's gone another step and you can't even use it in the first bastardization of it with the G's instead? *That's* now wrong too?!  Omg, this is exhausting. I need a nap.

Which means I'm going to wake up and want chicken.

5.) So when Publix runs out of their crack-laced chicken fingers? I'm pissed.  Seriously, shouldn't there be a little nicca albino there making them 24/7?  Stacy needs her chicken afterall.

Huh. This took a turn I didn't expect myself.

*grin*

[and if it wasn't clear? this was also a mind-dump meant all in jest. you know, just clarifying. lest I piss anyone off. which I'm sure I probably did.]

;-)

Generational Etiquette

Question: At what point does it become okay to call the parents of your friends by their given names instead of  "Mr." or "Mrs." [enter last name here]?

Is it when you reach a certain age?  Is it when they tell you, "please; call me [enter first name here] instead of mister or missus"?  Somewhere in between?

Naturally, all circumstances are different. Some kids these days grew up calling their parents' friends by their first names. Shoot, some kids grew up calling their *own* parents by their first names instead of Mom or Dad.  But in my generation, neither of those things were done. You called your own friends your own age by their given names, but not adults.

I liked the tradition up north where I grew up: adults who weren't family but were much closer than, say, acquaintances, got the title of Aunt and Uncle before their name. I grew up referring to my parents' friends across the street as Uncle Les and Aunt Angie; my sister's Godparents were Uncle Dick and Aunt Joycee.I think it was a beautiful way to handle the circumstance: the adults deserved the respect of children not using solely their familiar given name, but also taught us that these folks deserved the respect that came with a title, so to speak, before it.

I think it's why I also adore the traditional way of doing it here in the South too.  I would feel very uncomfortable if my friends had their minor children call me solely by my given name (I'm not a classmate, afterall), but I would feel just as uncomfortable if they called me "Miss Fox."  And that's where I adore the "Miss Stacy" term. Even if I were married, I like the "Miss Stacy" -- to me, it's like showing respect for me as an adult, but also feeling I'm someone closer to their family and their parents than, say, their carpool party.

There are always exceptions to the rules. For example, my friend Sue has two grown daughters who have always only known me just as Stacy and that feels perfectly okay when I hear it from them -- probably because Sue has always felt like a sister and when I visited them when they were young and they ran up to me with a hug calling, "Stacy!" it made me grin.  But if I came to visit and their friends were there of the same age? Even if they hugged me, saying "welcome, Stacy!", I'd think it was too familiar for their friends to call me by that without having ever met me before.

Another. My friend Sarah's kids call me Foxy.  Yes, mostly because that's what their mama calls me. :-)  But even that's okay with me because it's not my given name like they use with their friends, and that's the distinction. I'd be surprised if they even knew my given name.

So, when, exceptions aside, is it really okay to start using familiar names with your friends' parents after you're an adult? If you're already an adult when you meet them and they say, in the case of my friend Hilary's mother on first meeting, "Hi! Pleasure to meet you. Please call me Maryanne," it's cut and dry. But in the case of a family you've known since you were 6 years old and that wasn't the case, when does that change? Or does it?  Do you wait for the invitation from them to call them by their name or, now into your 30s or 40s and an adult in your own right, ask if it's okay to do it?

I have to admit, I giggle about it. Because I can't make the leap myself but try to do it in different ways.  I can't call my friend Lisa's parents "Mr. and Mrs. Latimer" anymore without feeling awkward -- but I can't call them "John and Peggy" either. I kinda went halfway and now just call them "Mr. and Mrs. L."  And I saw when that same friend became friends with my Mom on Facebook the other day, she left a message saying: "Nice to see you, Mrs. Fox!" and that kind of warmed my heart; she didn't use "Dorothy" but chose that instead. It kinda made me think that her parents obviously raised her right;  that anyone of the generation before you should give you their permission to use their given name before you just do it.

Is this just a my generation thing? Or perhaps something I need to change my mindset about?

I'm Judgemental. There. I said it.

I'm just going to put it out there: I'm judgemental. Personally? As a society? I think we're afraid to admit that because it automatically somehow makes us bad people to judge others. I disagree though. I think it just makes us human, really.

We all do it.  And in some cases, we can all agree:  we can pass judgement on a murderer we read about and conclude that he who does that is not a good person. Or that those financiers who stole from innocent people in investments to pad their own pockets were wrong. In those cases, it's kinda cut and dry, right?  It's somehow fine to judge people like that and it not be a smudge on your own character for doing it.  In fact, most of your friends or family will nod and agree with you that they're not the kind of quality of people you'd want in your life.  Right?

I think it comes from that word: judge.  It has such a negative connotation to it.  Like, somehow, unless you have that law degree and sit behind a nice wooden bench, you have no right to judge people you come across. I'm a Christian and I even believe that ultimately there's only one judge at the end of time...and it ain't me, for sure. 

But we're not at the end of times yet.  And most of us don't have that degree or that nice wooden bench to sit behind.  But we are human and it's human nature. So why is it wrong to be able to voice your opinion if you think someone's doing something wrong? Is it really wrong to judge others? I don't think it's wrong to look at another human being and what they do or say and decide: no, that's not what I want in my life. Or, on the flip side, say: wow, in our conversations and my experiences with you, I'm so lucky to know you.  It works both ways after all.

So I'm judgemental.

I bring all of this up because I recently found out a dear friend of mine is stepping out with someone who is already "taken" and it's hard for me not to let that affect how I feel about her.  In kudos to her, she actually talked about it with me.  She brought it up and said she knew I would not approve (ugh! another bad connotation) but she wanted to let me know what was going on anyway.  In many ways, I wish she really, really hadn't.

Because I get it, people.  On paper? It's none of my business. She's not hurting me directly. I should have just sat there, listened like a friend should and then changed the subject if it made me uncomfortable.  Right?

No.  See, that's exactly where I think no.  First of all, if she already knew how I would feel about it and told me anyway, she put me in a position to respond.  And my response was exactly what she knew it would be, being as close as we are.  I couldn't pretend to think or feel differently; she couldn't have expected me to. And she didn't. She took my response very openly even if she disagreed with me. (I still wonder why she even told me, knowing all that.)

As in all cases of infidelity, the excuses came out:  He's unhappy with his current partner; they're more roommates than boyfriend-girlfriend anyway.  She's been lonely and hadn't felt a connection like this before! HE was the one to initiate every contact; not her!  You name it. All the things you tell yourself when you know a situation is wrong deep down but you try to bury it with those excuses so you don't have to think about it.

Now, Lord knows I haven't done everything right in my life either. I've made mistakes and look back with regret.  Is it my responsibility now to either tell my friends what I did wrong by those experiences in hope they don't do the same?  Or should I just shut my trap and let them do what they want to do?  If I choose the former, does it mean I'm judging them?  If I do the latter, does it mean I'm not being honest and a true friend?

The thing that clicked with her (and I saw it in her eyes when it did) was when she said, and I paraphrase, "but I don't see how this would affect OUR friendship. It's not like I'm doing anything to you."

Yeah.

Technically, she's right. I don't know either of the other people in her little messed up triangle. She doesn't even know his partner and their true relationship other than what he's said; she's never met her.  None of these folks are friends, family, colleagues or even acquaintances.  Nothing directly to me. She had me there.

But I had had a glass of wine or two at the time, so I told her the most obnoxious but valid analogy that came to mind at the time to challenge her comment. It shouldn't affect *our* friendship, right?   I asked her if she was truly serious with that comment and wanted my opinion.  When she nodded and was receptive of a response, I responded like this:

"Put it this way then. You and I are walking down the street together and we saw a random homeless man lying in the street.  If you decided to up and kick him in the gut right then and there for no reason at all? No, you wouldn't be doing something *to me.* But hell if that wouldn't affect our friendship and how I felt about you after seeing you do that."

Her eyes told me she understood. Even though it was the most ridiculous analogy, she got it.

Because in a case like that, we could all judge, right? If we saw a friend do something as horrible as that for no reason at all, we could easily judge them for it. Of course it would change your feelings about that friend who would.  How could it not?

Kicking a homeless man is an extreme example here, but I meant it as a point: if you know you're doing something wrong, decide to admit it to a friend, admit also that you even know you're doing wrong but still are going to do it because it's "what you need right now" and that's more important than anyone else -- innocent people who are the recipients of what you're feeling you want to do as opposed to what's right to do?  How can you expect that not to change your relationships with folks who know you're making that choice?

I know this makes me judgemental. Look, I started this saying I was, whether right or wrong. I'm certainly not saying I'm without sin; I've fucked up royally in my own past too in many different ways. I'm definitely not a better person than anyone else is out there.  But I still don't think I can see something wrong and encourage and support it if I don't feel it's right.

And if that makes me judgemental? I guess I'll just have to be okay with that and hope that some people reading this might understand it.





I

The Story of My Scout

A year and a half ago, I lost my darling little Oy. Oy was a kitten that was found in the back of the printing plant where I worked at the time. He was only 4 weeks old and the woman who was working as receptionist found him covered in oil and grease. Cleaned him up and wanted someone to adopt him.

I already had my Sammy cat at the time but as soon as I saw Oy I knew he had to come home with me.  And he did.  Had to de-worm him (twice). Fed him with a bottle even until he was able to eat food on his own.  And although they didn't get along at first (Sammy was so afraid of the kitten!), it only took weeks for them to play together, curl up and sleep together, terrorize me together at 3am for food.

Oy lived until almost 17 years old; Sammy passed about 4 years before that and having Oy helped me get through that for sure.

But after Oy passed, I wasn't ready for another fur kid.  I remember saying (and writing) I couldn't imagine a home without a pet, but I still did it for a year and a half and got used to it. Bah. None of my budget had to go for food or litter or toys or whatever. I could come and go as I wanted and not worry. I'm fine without one.  And I was. Because I was never really at home much.  I live in the city: was always out doing something or another.  It didn't matter that there was something at home waiting on me; or, rather, counting on me. It was better there wasn't!  But I still thought about it. 

Kinda.

And then my accident happened last fall. Broke my jaw; had to be wired shut for a month.  I spent weeks home, not going out. Didn't mind being home (did mind the wires!) but it made me think again: "hmmm. wouldn't it be nice to have a kitty again?" But I kind of put it out of my head too. Pets are a huge responsibility. A step up from plants (and I have one that's 20 years old, thankyouverymuch), but still a responsibility.

So I healed (still healing).  And I didn't plan to go home for Christmas this year (was just there in September for a wonderful week-long visit) but after the accident wanted to be with my Mom so I planned it.  And I went.  And her two cats, as always, were all over me. Lap kitties. Purr-buckets (tm). They would curl up on my lap or next to me on a pillow, purring their hearts out and I realized: my horrible experience this past fall might have been more tolerable had I had that. Perhaps.

I think the visit home actually solidified what I was already thinking because I made an appointment at the shelter before I even left. I kept it in the back of my mind that I could always cancel the appointment, but after the visit home, I knew I didn't want to.

So I got home after the holidays and kept the appointment. I knew I wanted a "lap cat."  I wanted a cuddle buddy: I envisioned winter nights on the couch, reading my books, with a kitty fast asleep and purring on my lap. It was time again for that.

I went to the shelter and, as planned beforehand, just decided I'd go into a room full of cats and just sit down. Just sit down and see what happened.

And what happened was this cat called Jesus (pronounced the Hispanic way "Hay-Zeus") instantly came up and crawled up on my lap. I petted him; he was sweet. But I figured: "okay, this is the FIRST cat. I gotta keep an open mind here."  So I gently pushed him off my lap and stood up and went to an adjoining room.  Sat back down again.

Hay-Zeus followed. Crawled back onto my lap again and started purring. A slew of other cats came up to me (I was sitting crossed-legged on the floor afterall) but Hay-Zeus started pawing at every other one that came over.  Not claws out; just soft paw. Almost like he was trying to say: "yeah, I know. She's cool, but she's mine. go away."

And it was sealed.

I didn't choose my fur kid; he chose me. (Kinda like you don't choose wands but wands choose you, for you Harry Potter folk. Yep. Geeking out now, I am.)

I didn't learn until after I  (he) did and we were going through the paperwork that little Hay-Zeus had actually been in the shelter for five years. Five YEARS! I can't even wrap my head around that.  That a cat who didn't have consistent human companionship would actually be such a lap kitty or would want a human companion and choose me as opposed to wanting to live still with a bunch of other cats instead.  Afterall, it's all he knew. Right?

So I brought him home that day and I'm honestly surprised at how incredibly well-adjusted he was then and still is.  In the car with me for the first time? Not a peep. Just sat there happy in his carrier like "where we goin' mama? Don't matter. I'm here now." At home? From day one he used the litter box and used scratching posts instead of my furniture. Having been in a shelter that long, he doesn't even beg for "people food."  And every evening, he curls up on my lap as I'm watching TV or reading a book; purring his heart out. And when I tell him: "okay, bedtime." He comes and curls up in bed with me.  I will always be amazed by this.  A kitty who never knew human companionship picked a woman who thought she might need might need something other than human companionship again.

Kismet?

Oh, yeah. That name Hay-Zeus wasn't happenin'.  I renamed him after much thought.

Scout.

From my favorite book.

And he actually answers to it too.

So this has been the story of Scout.

When you rescue a pet? They kinda rescue you right back.

I learned a couple weeks after his adoption (when I had to bring him back for inoculations that came with the adoption fee) that one of the volunteers actually was thinking about finally adopting him too because he was a favorite in the shelter. No one understood why no one took him before; except he wasn't a kitten. And most people want kittens, right?

The shelter has asked me repeatedly to please send updates and photos because he was so loved there and that everyone will be ecstatic to hear he finally found a forever home.  After all that time. A forever home!  And oh, that was a hard request, right? Because I NEVER post photos or update my Facebook or blog or anything. ;-)

So now he runs. And he plays. And he has not A room but five he can play in.  Folks ask me when I'm going to get a playmate for him, but I really think he doesn't want that.  He wanted a human.  He's happy and content and loved and doesn't realize that more than he needed or wanted me?

I needed him. :)

And that's the Story of My Scout.

The Song Remains the Same. Except in these Seven.

When I hear some songs for the first time I instantly hate them.  Whether the lyrics, the beat or the artist -- can't stand them. These songs I absolutely hated until I had a different association for them.  Now I love them. For these reasons:

1.) Aerosmith: "Dream On"
Not sure why I hated it; I usually like Aerosmith. But this song always grated on me until I saw one of my favorite movies ever and actually the very first movie I ever owned on DVD (and I never owned any on VHS even!). "Miracle" -- about the 1980 Olympic USA Men's hockey team. In the final credits, this song plays and the credits update us all on where those players are today.  After seeing and hearing that? I now adore this song.

2.) The Verbe: "Bittersweet Symphony"
It's annoying as all get out! But when I saw and heard it in the final scene of the "Cruel Intentions" (remake- don't even get me started on that!) where Buffy finally gets busted for her cross necklace full of cocaine? Adored it. Perfect.

3.) Dire Straits: "Walk of Life"
In all honesty, I don't like their music at all. The only thing I really liked about that whole "Money for Nothing" song was my beloved Sting singing the "I want my MTV" line in the background (mmm. mrow). So this follow-up "hit" sucked even more...until I saw the video.  Big bunch of sports highlights with people messing up royally until the last verse when they finally get it right. Apparently if you give me some sports highlights, I'll like your song.

4.) Bette Midler: "Wind Beneath My Wings"
Yawwwwwwn. Borrrrrrring.  That is, until I watched "Beaches" over and over again, cried my eyes out repeatedly and hoped -- and finally found-- friends that made me understand the song.

5.) House of Pain: "Jump Around"
Obnoxious as hell and from a no-talent group. .Unless you're a Badger fan and Camp Randall at the University of Wisconsin literally *shakes* between 3rd and 4th quarter when this fires up and everyone's jumpin'? You won't get it.  But I do now.

6.) David Bowie: "Golden Years"
I adore this man to no end, but I absolutely hated this song until "A Knight's Tale" when Heath Ledger danced to it.


7.) David Bowie: "Changes"
Seriously. People really must have overplayed David Bowie for me to hate his songs this much (I do truly adore him! Jareth! Thomas Jerome Newton!  *sigh*  Err...I digress). But at the beginning of "Breakfast Club"? Perfection.

Yours

?