Black Belt Mama

The Great Divide

On Sunday, I spent almost the entire day at the country club, helping to decorate for the holidays. We put up four Christmas trees, yards and yards of lit garland all around the ballroom, and decorated the bar room. When we were finished I was exhausted and I'm pretty sure my surgeon would not have approved of my ladder climbing. However, when you're the youngest one, the job sort of falls to you.

Decorating was interesting to say the least. There were several board members there who are pretty obviously sour about a younger gal like me getting elected. One of them couldn't stop telling me about the 12 years she's been on the board and the hard work it is to be a board member. She was referring to my dragging a Christmas tree across the floor for her. She was also talking about how it's difficult to be a board member when you have young children because they have activities and how younger people just don't have the time. I think I prefer it when they're so sour that they won't even talk to me.

Needless to say, I set the tree up and went to hang out with the men. I was trying to stay polite and I was about at my limit. The men don't seem to mind me very much. In fact, they were more than happy to steady the ladder for me so I could hang the garland at the very top of the wall. At one point, I drove across the street to get some pipe cleaners to fasten to the garland. It will make hanging up the garland next year a piece of cake and perhaps there won't be as much bickering.

Good God the bickering.

When I returned, one of the guys had already told everyone there what a genius I am and how I had such great ideas. He whispered to me when I came back, "This better work. I've been bragging about you." I'm happy to report it worked, perfectly.

I realized a couple things while I was over there decorating. First, I don't think there's any way these older women will ever like me. It seemed to me that they spent much of their time discussing my decorating and trying to supervise me. Some of the guys told me they were talking about me in the other room. It didn't stop me from only hanging six bows on the bar instead of the standard eight. It also didn't stop me and another younger woman from hanging Christmas balls from the garland surrounding the bar. They've never done that before. I'm pretty sure people were about to have a heart attack, but it didn't stop us. One thing they'll learn about me quickly is that I don't back down and I don't like being told what to do. I'm no baby. I figure they'll hate me worse after a couple meetings. If they give me too much trouble, I'll start bringing my 92-year old grandmother with me to the club. She'll give them the smackdown alright. I'm like her favorite person on the planet. Scratch "like;" I am the hands down favorite.

Second, there is much tension at the club between warring factions. I decided that I need to do my best to stay unbiased and objective. I need to look at each decision that comes up individually.

And finally, there is so much to be done, and it is not going to be easy. When you're the youngest person on the board, I think it makes it that much more difficult to convince people you know what you're talking about. I'm going to do it though, or I'll go down trying.

Scratch that "trying" business. I'm just going to do it.

Hit and Run Thanksgiving

It happens every holiday: Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter. . .

My Mom or I slave in the kitchen and then people arrive, usually late. They grab a plate, eat, and within two hours tops, they are gone. The majority of the clean-up is left behind. My sister and her boyfriend have to hit both families and my sister's boyfriend was also on call and forgot his digital password thing at home. They were there for an hour. My grandparents never make it to dessert. My Pop-Pop doesn't like to drive in the dark and he doesn't like to go to the bathroom at other people's houses. Sometimes, if they come to my kids' birthday parties, they ask me for a piece of cake before the girls even blow out the candles. I started making cupcakes for that very reason.

Yesterday was absolute insanity. Dinner was supposed to be at 2 p.m. Because Mr. BBM and I were, once again, in IKEA-putting-something-together-yet-again hell, we didn't arrive until 1:30. We thought we would be last but we were first. Next, my grandparents arrived. An hour later, my sister and her boyfriend walked in.

My sister started making some brown butter sage sauce for lobster ravioli she brought and splattered stuff all over my Mom's stove. My Mom is like a absolute perfectionist when it comes to her stove. When I lived there, she didn't even want me to clean it. It is probably the cleanest surface in the entire house. I could tell she was stressed.

Then my sister's boyfriend started making horrible noises. Apparently he has serious sinus congestion and I'm not quite sure he knows how to blow his nose. I volunteered to sit in the kitchen with the girls to eat. I didn't think my stomach could take listening to someone snort and eat their own mucus. Little did I know that he would come running out to the bathroom, right off the kitchen, only to make horrible barfing noises in there. My Mom and I just looked at each other with horror. She was also at the kids table. I asked her to please pass the wine. We both refilled our glasses.

By 4 p.m. my Mom was cutting desserts "to go" for people and they were out the door; my sister forgot her cake on the table so Lil C ate it.

I helped my Mom clean up the plates and the kitchen. She still hadn't even eaten her salad.

I think that when I host Christmas this year, I'm going to tell people to come in the morning and refuse to feed them until 7 p.m. Christmas is even worse. It's like a tornado hit my family room with gift wrap and ribbon everywhere. It's exhausting.

So last night, we stayed at my Mom's house until almost midnight. We played games, picked on my Dad, as is the status quo at any holiday, and we ended up having a great time despite the flurry that was from 2-4 p.m.

When I was a little girl, the actual holiday days seemed to go so slowly. I have such good memories of them. I hope that when my girls grow up, they don't remember the holidays as the hit and run they have become.

L.A. Fitness is like Hotel California

I cancelled my gym membership at L.A. Fitness in September. My membership expired on 11/14. Yet today and last month, L.A. Fitness charged me for the Kid Klub. Someone explain to me why I would still have a Kid Klub membership when I'm not even a member at the club myself.

Mr. BBM saw the charge and called the gym, where some girl with barely two brain cells to rub together explained that it was perfectly reasonable for me to NOT have membership and STILL have a Kid Klub membership, despite the fact that you can't take kids in there for daycare purposes. You must always be on grounds. Yeah, because I totally drop my kids off at Germ Klub just so I can hang out in the lobby and watch people work out. That makes a whole lot of sense.

When Mr. BBM realized he was getting nowhere, he freaked out on the girl, and then called me to tell me about it. Half the time, those girls in the front don't even know their own names. They're certainly not going to be able to help with an actual problem. I told him he had talked to the wrong person.

So I decided I was done dealing with the local club about this issue. Last month, when they shouldn't have charged me, they said my Kid Klub membership would be cancelled. Now they're saying the same thing. I'm not feeling confident about it. They're refusing to refund my money. They also refused to give me my free month that they promised when I signed up. They also refused to freeze my club membership when I had knee surgery last January, saying that I had not given them a month's notice. I didn't even have a freaking month's notice that I was going to have the surgery.

So while Mr. BBM filed a dispute with the credit card company, I called the corporate office. I waited 20 minutes on the phone to speak with someone and then got disconnected.

Deep breath, swearing under the breath and desperate need for a heavy bag at this point.

I was done with games. So I did a little research online and found a Senior VP's name and phone number. I called him directly and left a voice mail on his line, not his secretary's line. I still haven't heard back.

Then I asked my recruiting manager to help me out further. Within seconds he had the number for the Regional VP for the East Coast. I called him and left a personal voice mail as well. You don't mess with people who've been in the recruiting business. We can find you anywhere. If I asked my manager, he could probably find the guy's private bathroom phone number.

Yet still nothing.

They have 3.5 hours to contact me and confirm that my membership is cancelled and that my charges will be refunded or else I'm launching an all out campaign. There are thousands of pissed off people online without the skills to get to the corporate people directly. I just might help them.

L.A. Fitness is like the freaking Hotel California. You can check out, but you can never leave.

I have totally had it.

Updated to add: 4:30 p.m on Wednesday. . . Issue resolved. Money credited. Sign of relief

Throw Away the Key

"I know what I did is wrong and it will never happen again," he said. "I messed around with a little girl and I shouldn't have done it. I only did it once a week on Thursdays when I was baby-sitting.

"But it wasn't every Thursday," he said. "I don't think the law is fair."

Taken from this article on the Reading Eagle dot com.

This quote is from a violent sexual predator who sexually assaulted a little girl for years. He served 5 months out of only a 23 month sentence and he's ticked off that new laws will require longer sentences and more strict supervision once predators are let out of prison.

Boo freaking hoo.

For the original article about what he did and his sentence, go here. She was five years old when it started and he claims she initiated. He says he's reformed. "But it wasn't every Thursday" shows me he's not. He's still minimizing what he, a 70-some year old man, did to a little girl. Here's his page on the PA Megan's Law website.

Then, as I'm doing a little research on his name and trying to find his Megan's Law page, I find this. This guy's in Florida, same name with a Jr. tacked onto the end and another assault against a minor. Is this just a strange coincidence or what?

This is exactly why violent sexual predators, especially those who assault children should be locked up forever. Throw away the keys.

And is it just me, or is a 5-month prison sentence for sexual assualting a child just a little light?

No Sympathy

Last week, I had a student miss both of my classes. Out with the swine flu, she kept in almost constant contact with me, updating me as to when she thought she'd be able to come back, asking questions about upcoming assignments and doing her best to avoid falling behind.

After getting the approval to come back to class, she sat in my class on Tuesday and looked awful. Her cough sounded even worse than she looked. I asked her if she was ok and she blurted out, "no." You could tell she felt lousy. She still showed up with a partial annotated bibliography in hand, just to make sure she was doing it correctly.

Last night, I got an email from her saying she had been sent to the hospital after Health Services listened to her lungs. She has pneumonia. I didn't expect to see her. We made arrangements via email for her to get her work done.

Today, she showed up at class. As I was walking in I saw her and stopped in my tracks. "What are you doing here? Are you feeling better?"

She looked awful. Once again, she blurted out, "no." She then went on to tell me that since she's no longer contagious, she couldn't get an excused absense from the university. So there she was at 7:55 a.m. ready to attend class.

I sent her back to her dorm to rest.

When I have students like this, so dedicated to their work and their grades, it makes it particularly difficult for me to have any sympathy for those who take regular "personal days." Those students should know that the day of reckoning is quickly approaching. Only three classes remain, and they are in serious trouble.

I am also in serious trouble in my fantasy leagues. If you'd like to read about it, go here.