The President inherited most of the unemployment figures from the previous administration and yet the GOP wants to STILL blame him for the numbers. Their reaction is almost laughable. Exactly what do they expect him to do? Go to every corporation, every small business and demand that they increase their work force? Sure, that would be a solution but it wouldn’t fix the problem. Part of the blame falls on the businesses themselves for “picking and choosing” who they want to hire. I’m almost sure it has something to do with “good looks” and not experience. ALMOST sure.
I say that because I was laid off in 2008 due to a merger and my job was “eliminated”. I smelled something fishy almost immediately. I went back to the new employer’s store at Christmas to see my old co-workers, I discovered that the new company had hired a young, blonde female in the position I was eliminated from. I attempted to pursue age discrimination but that is a long and arduous process and nine times out ten hard to prove.
So for the past four years I have been applying to jobs in the retail sector – with six years of experience in retail and almost 30 in customer service, you would think I’d qualify to work in a store which was advertising for retail/sales help – wouldn’t ya? Not so. The current norm to reject an applicant today is by email. A curt response to your application tells you that they’re sorry but your qualifications and skill set does not match the position of your qualifications and skill set. WTH?
I can see how people would give up looking. It is a frustrating project to try to find a job after you have reached a certain age. But I trod on hoping that one day someone will look at my application and say “Hm. This looks like a good fit. Perhaps a bit older than we’d like but still a good fit.”
When I wake up from my dream I hope to see on the news that the number of job hires has increased by at least one person and realize it wasn’t a dream at all.
Some of the people I know who I have friended have become rather greedy, taking up way too much space and it is really annoying. I don’t want to un-friend them. I’ve thought about making snide comments but that would make them angry or hurt their feelings and they would un-friend me. So what do I do. Grin and bear it I suppose.
A couple of friends seem to spend alot of time scouring the internet for cool pictures, cartoons, quips or pictures of maimed animals and then load them by the hundreds daily. My feeling is if you find a cute or clever picture you want to share, great, let me see it. But don’t post so many that I have to scroll down for 20 minutes until I come to the next friend who has done the same thing. I’ve had to “hide” a friend’s postings because she decided that not only was she going to see how many things she could post in one morning, she decided to copy and paste her twitter tweets! Enough already!
So in lieu of the fact that there IS no space limitations on facebook of postings, there will be space limitations of what I want to see. Don’t make me limit your space. Please. I don’t really want to hide you. I might miss something juicy that’s happened to you and I wouldn’t want that to happen. But I’m sure if it does, you’ll post lots and lots of pictures and neat sayings. And I will have missed them ALL.
I’m not sending celebrities or tv personalities or columnists or famous people that I follow on twitter any more tweets because they don’t reply. I just think that’s rude to ignore me. If you want to be a tweeter then damn it tweet back! Okay, so you have 1,500 followers and you follow 20,000. That is just inexcusable. There should be a limit as to how many people you can follow because chances are you cannot possibly read every single tweet that you get and therefore you cannot reply to all of them. Sure, you probably have a secretary who is your ghost tweeter, who picks and chooses which tweets you’ll – I mean “you” – will reply to. Maybe when I get my first 200 followers I can hire a secretary too and then I’ll feel important. Until then I’m on my own and I can pick and choose who I reply to. I reply to all of them, even ones who I don’t follow and who may have differences of opinion from me because I have taken the time to look at their profile. Once I was followed by a “conservative christian family man, father of 5 who believes in traditional marriage.” Okay, cool. Did you read my profile? WTH?! So upon my email informing me that he was now following me I tweeted him and said that I was just curious as to why he would follow me. Needless to say I did not get a reply. He should update his profile to inform people that he is also “rude.”
I don’t send nasty replies to anyone who is on my follower list because if they are nice enough to follow me I don’t want to piss them off by swearing at them or calling them an idiot. I save that for people I don’t follow and who don’t follow me – and calling them idiots is justified. For example in the past two days I’ve idioted Tony Perkins, founder of the hate group FRC, Mitt Romney (and I didn’t really need to call him that because he is anyway) and a select few others who have pissed me off. Oh, yea, I think I may have called Donald Trump an idiot. I doubt if it was anything he said, I think it was just because of his hair.
I’ve replied to @cher, @BetteMidler, @edshow Ed Schultz, @ThomasARoberts and @Lawrence (O’Donnell) (msnbc hosts) and most recently @BrookeBCNN Brooke Baldwin. They were all compliments. I was taught to say “thank you” when someone says something nice to you. Someone I follow is @CapehartJ Jonathan Capehart, a writer for the Washington Post. He is often on msnbc at night contributing to the political issues of the day. I think I may have said something like “Way to go, Jonathan!” – did I get a reply? Nope. But some tweeter told him he LIKED HIS NEW GLASSES and THEY got a reply! I don’t get it. I guess I’m going to have to be more aware of what people are wearing rather than what they are saying and perhaps I’ll get a tweet back. If not I guess I’m just going to have to put @CapehartJ Jonathan Capehart on my “idiot” list.
Okay, I’m not a big fan of commercials. Some of them are pretty funny, some of them are touching. Most of them are horrible and so I sit with remote in hand waiting to pound that “mute” button before it starts its annoying come-on 10 decibels above normal programming. Usually a good time to run to the kitchen to get something to drink or let the “kids” out.
But Stanley Steemer has outdone themselves with a new commercial featuring Dee Snyder of Twisted Sister. It is outrageous and I LOVE IT! Dee never looked better! And the man of the house in those red platform boots? I think I used to have a pair just like them.
So now I look for this ad on a daily basis and when it comes on I press the “volume” button even louder. But I’m not as quick as I used to be – getting older does that. So if I’m not fast enough I’ll hear Dorothy Zbornak screaming “Condoms, Rose, condoms, condoms, condoms!” before I can lower the sound.
Now to go look for those platforms …
My niece said on fb that she started a blog and I remembered that I had one too, but I haven’t written anything on it since day one. I said I started this because I was angry and I probably wouldn’t blog again until I calmed down. “See y’all in a year!” I said. But I have calmed down, so I’ll try to keep up.
I guess this is a diary of sorts. I’m just wondering if I should start a second blog for my “secrets.” That’s probably not a bad idea. I have some things I don’t care for the whole world to know about so it’s best that I keep them “hidden.”
Anyway, I went to a musical the other night in our local theatre. It was called “The Musical of Musicals” and it was hysterical! I laughed so hard and loud that I’m sure I drowned out most of the singing, but it was all I could do to keep from rolling on the floor. Luckily the rows were rather tight and there was a step down to the aisle so maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t. The show was about a girl who couldn’t pay her rent and was broken into five different styles parodying the music from many well known musicals. I was pretty contained until near the end of the first scene when the chorus, at a party in the “big city”, broke into a ditty about clam dip. I lost it. What show has a song about clam dip?! After that it was all over and I had to hang onto the arms of my seat to keep from falling out.
During intermission I was reading the cast notes and it turns out that the woman accompianist is the organist/choir director at First Baptist Church. The remarkable thing about that is that there were several songs about the gays and “queers” and she tickled those ivories without missing a beat! (You know what’s been going in NC with the Baptists.) So I gave her a standing ovation because she probably hears the wrath from her congregation every Sunday morning.
I am determined to get involved in the theatre. I grew up in the local theatre, having one directly across the road from where I lived. I guess once it’s in your blood it’s probably there to stay. I’m going to try out for “The Fantastiks” – I think there is a non-singing part. I was “volunteered” to sing in the choir at church but had to send an email to the choir director informing her that I wouldn’t be able to mouth the words to the hymns without feeling some shame for not being able to carry a tune. Well, I can but it doesn’t go up or down. I’m kind of stuck between a soprano and an alto. A sopralto? An altano? I don’t know. After all of these years I still sound like I’m in high school, which I guess is a good thing, but I can’t make myself sound like Barry White and believe me I’ve tried. When I worked in the call center I was called “madam” more than once. That’s a whole different blog. I’ll get to that one of these days.
So I guess I’m not mad anymore. Oh, damn, there goes those kids on their dirt bikes. That will probably go on all day long. I guess I’m going to get mad again but I’ll write anyway. It will keep me from opening the front door and yelling something I’ll regret later on.
Okay, this is my first blog.
I’m going this route because I am a venter. I vent silently. I vent quietly. I whisper vent. I facially vent. I write vent. And I am going to vent about North Carolina’s proposed Amendment One to the state constitution defining marriage. Our selfish, self-absorbed state legislators have decided to put their “religious values” and “personal morals” to a vote and let the citizens of our state decide as to who get rights and who doesn’t. I am gay, not yet married, but am in a long-term relationship, so this will affect me forever, if it is passed. Unless of course I move to a state that does recognize same gender marriage. Would I be able to send a bill to the state for moving expenses? I’ve paid my taxes – and North Carolina is VERY greedy when it comes to taxes – so I should at least be entitled to some reimbursement for the inconvenience of leaving a place where I’m not recognized – or welcome.
I am not only someone who will be affected by Amendment One, but I am also a REAL Christian. The “so-called christians” who quote from the Bible and then spew their hatred all in the same breath are showing themselves to be nothing more than bigots.
I was taught to accept everyone and hate no one. My religious beliefs are all inclusive.I was lucky enough to have been raised in the Episcopal Church. The recent pronouncements by the clergy of this denomination, who are vehemently opposed to the amendment, have made me not only proud, but reassures me that my acceptance as a child of God is without discrimination because of who or what I am and I am blessed to be able to walk with respect and dignity among my friends in my parish.
In a few more weeks voters in our state will decide whether or not I am considered a “person” – not a law-abiding, taxpaying citizen of North Carolina – but someone “other than” a person.
As you know, the argument is about marriage equality between two people of the same gender. It is also about family and how they should be defined. I witness families every Sunday in the sanctuary of the church I go to. I see a family of a single mother and her two boys. I see families of a mother, father and children. I see families with special needs children. I see families of only two people. I see old families and young families. And I see a family of two men and their little boy. The sad thing is that all but one of these families have rights. As Rachel Maddow, openly gay host on msnbc so succinctly stated: “Here’s the thing about rights. You don’t get to vote on them. That’s why they are called rights.”
I wish people would realize that I am not an “other than.” I am a person. And I deserve to be treated as such. Nothing more, nothing less. Nothing “for”, nothing “against.” I never thought in my lifetime that I would be voted on whether or not I was a “person.”