I believe the term is...

...pussy whipped. After nearly 18 years with my partner, I'm finally admitting it.

If it weren't for her, I'd have at least one tattoo by now. I love tattoos. I always have seen them as art and making a statement about yourself.

Last year when I turned 40, I felt like I had reached a tangible milestone. At that time, I knew I was giving up my lifelong dream, and 6 year attempt, to have a child. It was with a hell of a lot of pain and heartache, but I knew it was time to let that dream go. Hard as it was, I knew it was the right thing and I was ultimately ok with it. Yeah, still hurts sometimes, probably always will, but I can accept that it was the best decision for everyone involved, including the potential child.

I had also finally come to accept where Judaism fits into my life. It fits me more culturally than religiously. The last time I went to Temple, I came to realize I didn't completely believe the words I was speaking and I have too much respect for the religion and myself to be a hypocrite. I also had to shed the intense cultural drive to have a child and continue the religion, especially knowing my sister, Cara, is raising her 3 kids Baptist (or within the Christian diaspora). She's never denied her Jewish heritage and from what I can gather, has fairly recently begun teaching the kids much more about it. I was truly afraid that the Jewish side (and Jewishness) of the family would be forever lost. That's something that is culturally taught, that without children and teaching the next generation, the religion and the culture will be lost. Not having kids felt like I'd failed religiously and culturally. Kicked my ass.

As a representation of reaching 40 and these HUGE steps in my life, I wanted to finally get a tattoo. I had also reconciled the religious taboo of getting a tattoo. I really felt it was time.

DEBBIE FREAKED OUT

We had major and numerous discussions and arguments over a few weeks and it was finally left where she wanted me to wait 6 months and rethink it. I had waited 25-odd years, but what the fuck. After 25 years, what's another 6 months? 6 months went by, no surprise, still wanted it. Had changed a couple of times what exactly I wanted, but it was all following the same theme. Big surprise, Debbie put her foot down again, threatening to leave if I did it. Nothing like emotional blackmail.

It's now a year later and I still don't have a fucking tattoo. I thought I had finally worked up the nerve to just go ahead, regardless of what she said. After months of looking online, researching places, the art and the chemistry behind tattooing, on Wednesday night, I drove all the way to Kingston to drop off a picture and make an appointment. When I got there, wow, the vibe was really great. I knew it was the right place for me, then when I found out I could get it done by a woman, it was nearly perfect. The first appointment she had was tomorrow, Sunday, and I quickly jumped on it.

Then came telling Debbie. I knew it would be difficult but much better to tell her and deal with 2 days of shit than spring it on her Sunday night. Definitly not a good move. It went as expected...

I cancelled the appointment tomorrow. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Pussy whipped.

Yup, definitely.

Not crazy about the connotation of the term, but it's the best way to describe how I feel. I'm also not crazy about the fact I know I'm going to get dozens if not hundreds of hits from p*rn (let's not make it any worse).

My former boss from hell

I'm only recently finding out that my former boss, LG, didn't like me, pretty much hated me, at least towards the end of her position as boss. Fucking nice.

I had always had a decent but occasionally tension-filled relationship with her. Where other employees had friendships with her, ours was strictly business. I felt left out at times, especially when she would talk about parties where co-workers were invited and I was out in the cold, but we didn't have that kind of relationship and it was ok.

A couple of months ago LG accepted a position running the interpreting department at a presitigious university in Boston. Good for her. She works from home for that university and spends time with her kids. She is still employed by my agency, but only as a per diem interpreter. Zero authority and definitely NOT in a capacity to order anyone around.

Not long after she left, an emergency call came in and she was the closest CDI available. I was also available and had planned to go. I overheard the new supervisor talking to her on the phone and it was clear that she refused to team with me. What.the.fuck. Ok, we all have people that we refuse to team with for whatever reasons, but this was completely new to me. Until that day, I thought we had a decent working relationship. She refuses to tell anyone exactly why she won't work with me, just that she won't. I'd like to know so I can make any changes in my professional life, if it's appropriate, but she's not saying shit.

My only issue was all of a sudden finding out that the woman who supervised me, who wrote my evaluations and made professional judgements about me, doesn't like me. Not sure how you can supervise someone effectively and fairly if you truly don't like them, but whatever.

Last Wednesady when there was a birthday cake for another co-worker and myself, she was all huggy and sweet and wishing me a happy birthday. The fucking hypocrite.

Then last Thursday, I'm in the office covering phones while Karen is out on medical leave and the office is short-staffed. My new supervisor, Moe, asks me to page 3 CDIs to cover a legal emergency. Ok, so I page all 3 and LG responds back with a snotty "what emergency and why am I getting this from you?" She's not my supervisor anymore, she has no business asking why I'm in the office (she was the one who initially "fired" me from office work 3 years ago). I respond simply by saying Moe asked staff to cover the phones and can she go to the emergency. Maybe 30 seconds later she calls Moe. I knew she would, the fucking bitch. Then she gets on her high horse and tells me what should have been included in the initial page...asking for more information than what we offer to the hearing interpreters.

The woman is NO LONGER my supervisor. She has no business telling me what should or shouldn't be included in an initial page (for confidentiality reasons, we typically give very basic information until an interpreter accepts the assignment) and she sure as shit has no business questioning my presence in the office.

Last Friday we were both at a workshop and she pointedly ignored me, almost to the point of asking another person to "tell Roberta that...". Gotta love children. 45 going on, what, 5?

Canine gastronomic oddities

Ok, so I know our dogs are weird. They eat weird shit, meaning pretty much anything that either falls on the floor or is given to them. Any and all vegetables are fair game...fresh garlic is one of their favorites. That's not too terribly unusual, but they reached a new level of odd tonight.

I had sushi for dinner, ok, store bought but very fresh and good.

Just for the hell of it, ok I admit, for my amusement, I gave Jack a small piece of the pickled ginger. He made a yucky face but Pepe came running over and quickly snarfed it up. Maggie was about 2 seconds behind and she snarfed a larger piece. Jack was now interested. He was still making a face and his nose got all crinkly, but hell, if they're eating it, he was not about to be left out. All 3 of them ate about 4 pieces of the stuff and wanted more. Jack was just in it for the ride, his nose crinkling every time, but they definitely all wanted more.

I have fucking weird dogs.