I noticed, belatedly, that I screwed up Kerstin's name again. Blame it on internalizing "I before E except after C" - I am now sitting here chanting "E before I when it comes after K." But I'm sure she's used to it, just as I'm used to Katherine. As long as I can cash the check, spell it anyway you want. Just don't call me Cathy. THAT annoys me. My family calls me Cath, everybody else calls me Catherine, "Cathy" I associate with someone who doesn't know me getting overly familiar and taking liberties with a nickname I don't use, because if they knew me they'd know I don't use it, because I don't like it, because it sounds dopey with my last name. If you don't know enough to call me Cath, it's Catherine to you. Miss Catherine if you're nasty. Or under 10. I am not sure about that Miss Catherine thing, which is the Southern answer to kids addressing adults by their first names. I am used to it, but I still feel like a preschool teacher when they do it.
I had a LONG post loaded and ready when Blogger had one of its fainting spells and lost it.
My church collects gift requests from various social services agencies, and we shop for individuals, not generic gifts, it's the "Angel Tree" concept, which I really like because it's way more personal than just donating a toy YOU like, and hoping some kid is happy. Most years, it's kids looking for toys. One year I got an 11 year old girl who wanted books - boy, did I have fun doing THAT! Another year it was a mom asking for clothes for her toddler boy - again, fun fun, and throw in a toy for good measure.
I'm thinking it's a telling point of the true state of the economy, because this year there were many requests from adults, for clothing for themselves, and even the kids were mostly asking for clothes. It was like 10 clothing requests for every toy. It made me so sad - an 8 year old boy should not be requesting a pair of jeans for Christmas! I hope whoever gets that slip also throws in toys - I always add extra surprises to my packages. I picked one from a young girl who actually wanted a toy, and one from an adult man who needed clothes. I filled both requests this afternoon - yay Costco, they had the exact toy she wanted in stock! I had no idea what it was, my own daughter is 21, I have been off the cutting edge of the kid toy market for a long time. I'd never seen Lil Bratz, let alone this child's dream item, and there it was. Go me - if I hadn't gone out immediately I am sure they would have sold out. Target didn't have it, so it would have meant a snipe hunt around town looking for it. Go Costco - that was a major shopping kill, I'm still enjoying the buzz. I threw in an extra Lil Bratz doll from Target, and will be on the lookout for more inexpensive themed goodies.
It's way easier to buy toys for a kid who knows what she wants than clothes for an adult who just says "pants, shirts", I have no idea of the age or style of my skinny guy with the 30 inch waist, so I went for basic khakis and a basic shirt. Boring, but it'll have to do. I wish they'd given me his age instead of just "adult" - a 24 year old adult and a 60 year old one can wear the same skinny size but they don't want to wear the same clothes. I will probably add a second generic shirt or a belt to this package, but not knowing the age or lifestyle of my recipient is really tough. Does he wear work boots or sandals? Does he have a job that wants him to dress up a bit, even if he can't afford to, and he could use a nice collared button shirt, or is he a laborer who would love some nice sweat-absorbing socks as an extra? I dunno. He's a skinny adult male who needs clothes. They are everywhere around here.
One of the posts on KR that pissed me off until I couldn't see straight linked to some rightwing bubbleboy essay on "The Myth of the Working Poor." Myth? Come down here, asshole, I'll introduce you to them, my parish donates to lots of nice, hardworking families who just can't make it, despite busting their asses in a way these sheltered right-wing weenies can't imagine. Claiming they are a "myth" is so offensive and so evil, it's just sickening.
My late husband grew up working poor. His mother was widowed when he was 5, she had a high school diploma and no job skills to speak of, and she raised him as a waitress and checkout girl and the like, and they were dirt poor. He joined the Air Force, got sent to Vietnam, bailed out of a couple of crashing airplanes, came home and got retrained in computers, which ended up being his career by default. He was lucky and he knew it. He had opportunities few of his peers had, mostly by virtue of being lucky enough not to die in Vietnam. Now those "mythical" working poor kids are filling the same role, joining the military for career opportunities and a break from poverty, and they are feeding another damn pointless war. I feel for their parents - I really do, more than I can ever say. I understand why they need to believe in Dubya and in this war. Nobody wants to think their child is risking his or her life for no good reason, so they buy in, heart and soul, to the idea that this war was really necessary and justified. Otherwise, they'll go crazy. It's the Vietnam thing all over again - the government gets us into it, the poor kids do the dying for it, and the reason for it is too vague for comfort and too soul-wrenching to analyze too closely.
Oh wait, I'm sorry, I said the earlier stuff was my last political rant for the day.
I'm going to rearrange my schedule this week, and work out right after work. I need to de-stress, the office is eating us all alive and knitting ain't cutting it for me. Bess and I are sharing a brain on this issue again - finding the time, and the right time, to exercise. I took some time to analyze my day, and realized that right after work is when I need it most - but it's not when I'm accustomed to exercise, I was on a first thing in the morning schedule, but that's time consuming and hard to pull off regularly. Right after work, before dinner. I'm going to try that.
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