So for those of you who missed it, PA passed its budget last night. And me, being a little eager, went on to the state website to get a copy this morning. Much to my dismay, I couldn't find it. If you've used the PA General Assembly website before, you know how difficult it is to navigate. I skimmed and scanned and searched and...nothing. So I did what everyone else would do in this situation: I called my local representative's office.
They seemed shocked to hear from me. Yeah, I know we live in a small, politically inactive area. I'm just glad they picked up.
Well, after the shocked answeree found out I wanted the budget, he said he didn't know where to find it. I stated it had been signed yesterday, and he said I would then have to wait 24-48 hours for the document to be uploaded and publicly available! What! How are bills that are proposed and in committee and even tabled immediately available, but the budget, the biggest deal of them all, is not available until 2 days afterwards!
I know it's huge. But its also been electronic during this whole process (passing from legislator to secretary to committee to chamber etc) so it shouldn't be too too difficult to upload the final copy.
I'm only frustrated because the days for out funding are numbered here at the fire house, and I know that the little money we receive from the state will dwindle for smaller companies. It's terrifying. We need new equipment, new brakes for the trucks, and we're understaffed. Cuts mean no new gear, no fixed engine, and even the loss of firefighters. Yes, I understand that people think that the public sector needs to shrink. I get that wholly and completely. But until citizens are willing to realize shrinking funding means shrinking services, I don't think they'll understand that we're monetarily headed to a bad place. And, if I hear one more person say that public sector employees are paid too much I'm going to go nuts. Take it from a low level public sector employee: we're paid poorly, work long hours, are expected to meet lofty goals, and, if you're in a place like me, don't get PTO, benefits, or anything resembling assistance.
Equip my crew!
June 21, 2012
June 05, 2012
Bluntness, skinniness, training, and sticky buns
We're having a training session here at the firehouse, meaning that there are a ton of people here as opposed to our usual 4-7. Volunteer firefighters, police, everybody! Parking has been a dog, but I love to have a full house. Even Chief B is here, which is where today's smile stems from.
For the trainees, we have food, and being that they're big guys, we have A LOT of food. Our secretary likes to torture me with food (since I'm trying to stay in shape, an ongoing battle) so she put a sticky bun the size of my face on the table in front of me. Chief B, passing through during a training break sees said bun and myself at the desk and the following commentary ensues just as I'm about to give in and have a "tiny" bite.
"Don't eat that whole thing! You're too cute to do that!" And then quickly realizing what he might imply, back pedals a little: "Not that you're fat!" He gets this "d'oh!" look on his face and starts to walk away, with me laughing in the background. "You're too pretty to be fat!"
Needless to say, I didn't eat the sticky bun. I did however give into a few M&Ms. I know, I know. Hypocritical. But I'm a sugar fiend.
In any case, at least I have Chief B to keep me in line this week!
For the trainees, we have food, and being that they're big guys, we have A LOT of food. Our secretary likes to torture me with food (since I'm trying to stay in shape, an ongoing battle) so she put a sticky bun the size of my face on the table in front of me. Chief B, passing through during a training break sees said bun and myself at the desk and the following commentary ensues just as I'm about to give in and have a "tiny" bite.
"Don't eat that whole thing! You're too cute to do that!" And then quickly realizing what he might imply, back pedals a little: "Not that you're fat!" He gets this "d'oh!" look on his face and starts to walk away, with me laughing in the background. "You're too pretty to be fat!"
Needless to say, I didn't eat the sticky bun. I did however give into a few M&Ms. I know, I know. Hypocritical. But I'm a sugar fiend.
In any case, at least I have Chief B to keep me in line this week!
May 15, 2012
Uping My Mood Through To Do Lists
I'm fighting off some terrible thoughts lately and really, really trying to keep upbeat. As a result, I've given myself a swift kick in the patootie, and started to work on my list of stuff to do:
Half the amount of clothes I own
Half the amount of shoes I own
Go through my baskets of paper work and organize them
Organize my jewelry
Go through letters and date them
Print off photos and complete a few more scrapbooking pages
Apply to another job
Find solutions for when I move furniture wise
Make a slip cover for my crash pad
Make a new dress
Give away homemade jewelry (I'm addicted to making it)
Dry cleaning
The biggest challenges (and admittedly, the most fun) are finding furniture solutions and working on that darn crash pad slip cover. I'll take pictures when I finally attempt it. Expect hilarity. For those who don't know what a crash pad is, it's something you use when climbing so when you fall off the rock, you hit something a little softer than the ground. I emphasize "little". I bought my crash pad back in my freshman year when I had the choice of that or a bed. I figured I could sleep on the pad. It was like sleeping on flexible plywood, even with a little more padding. The reason I really want to make a slip cover is so I can use it as furniture. It's about five inches shorter and three inches wider than a twin bed. So, I'm thinking about getting a day bed frame and using my ten bazillion pillows to make a "couch" that my more adventurous friends could sleep on. But…
I really want a white couch. And the pad is black with a few orange designs. The problem of material arises. I was going to repurpose a sheet (cheap, big enough), but you can clearly see through it that it's black beneath the surface. Argh! So now I'm hunting for cheap buffers/'liners/mattress pads that I could use beneath the sheet. Oy, what an adventure.
The other issue? I don't have a place to eat. My latest idea for this is to repurpose a bookshelf from the wonderful Ikea to be one end of the table (against the wall), and then take two of its shelves for a table bit. I'm nervous about it moving or toppling or just generally not working, but I'm working on that bit. Other fun part? All of this stuff has to be temporary for moving purposes. I'm renting, and I need a lot of this furniture to come apart and go back to close to its original state. It's creatively taxing (since most of my stuff is in storage, and I don't even have a place yet), but I want to have a jump on everything when I finally get to move. :: day dreams of an apartment ::
That being said, I am terrified of this whole make-a-slipcover thing. I've read so many tutorials, but I'm still open to tips. Anything. Really, I'm not the most gifted sewer. It'll be pretty funny, at least!
Half the amount of clothes I own
Half the amount of shoes I own
Go through my baskets of paper work and organize them
Organize my jewelry
Go through letters and date them
Print off photos and complete a few more scrapbooking pages
Apply to another job
Find solutions for when I move furniture wise
Make a slip cover for my crash pad
Make a new dress
Give away homemade jewelry (I'm addicted to making it)
Dry cleaning
The biggest challenges (and admittedly, the most fun) are finding furniture solutions and working on that darn crash pad slip cover. I'll take pictures when I finally attempt it. Expect hilarity. For those who don't know what a crash pad is, it's something you use when climbing so when you fall off the rock, you hit something a little softer than the ground. I emphasize "little". I bought my crash pad back in my freshman year when I had the choice of that or a bed. I figured I could sleep on the pad. It was like sleeping on flexible plywood, even with a little more padding. The reason I really want to make a slip cover is so I can use it as furniture. It's about five inches shorter and three inches wider than a twin bed. So, I'm thinking about getting a day bed frame and using my ten bazillion pillows to make a "couch" that my more adventurous friends could sleep on. But…
I really want a white couch. And the pad is black with a few orange designs. The problem of material arises. I was going to repurpose a sheet (cheap, big enough), but you can clearly see through it that it's black beneath the surface. Argh! So now I'm hunting for cheap buffers/'liners/mattress pads that I could use beneath the sheet. Oy, what an adventure.
The other issue? I don't have a place to eat. My latest idea for this is to repurpose a bookshelf from the wonderful Ikea to be one end of the table (against the wall), and then take two of its shelves for a table bit. I'm nervous about it moving or toppling or just generally not working, but I'm working on that bit. Other fun part? All of this stuff has to be temporary for moving purposes. I'm renting, and I need a lot of this furniture to come apart and go back to close to its original state. It's creatively taxing (since most of my stuff is in storage, and I don't even have a place yet), but I want to have a jump on everything when I finally get to move. :: day dreams of an apartment ::
That being said, I am terrified of this whole make-a-slipcover thing. I've read so many tutorials, but I'm still open to tips. Anything. Really, I'm not the most gifted sewer. It'll be pretty funny, at least!
May 11, 2012
The Girl in the Firehouse
That almost sounds like a catchy name for a book, "the girl in the firehouse". Hen in the rooster's yard, cow in the bullpen, kitten in the puppy mill, however you sketch it, it comes down to this: I am, and have been for several years, out of place in respect to my line of work and gender.
Obviously, I'm not alone in this. There are plenty, plenty, plenty women out there who are the only female in the office. I'm just one of many. But still, even knowing that, it's a challenge sometimes to make sure I'm not snubbed or ignored. Where do I work? I'll give you a hint:
I'm not a firefighter, no. But I do share the same space as them. I'm an emergency planner (aka the person that makes the plans for when EVERYTHING goes wrong. You want to be my friend. Trust me.).
I love my work. My boss in phenomenal, supportive, and encouraging. He is a blessing, really. Every project I have come to him with, he's given me the full go ahead and lets me do my own thing, which is how I work best. But sometimes there are challenges.
For instance, when I first arrived, one of the volunteers asked if I was the new secretary. My Lt turned around and snapped at him as soon as I was out of the room, informing the volunteer I was the planner. I'm not recognized at many meetings outside of what I present, and I'm not voluntarily included in discussions. I push, I talk, I bribe with food, and I try to get them to relax. After a few months now, most of the crew feels comfortable enough to joke around me and I have slowly earned their respect. But it's hard won, and difficult to watch a new recruit walk in off the street and be instantly welcomed into the fold instead of going to the lengths that I did to get them to even swear around me (they still excuse themselves, which I have gotten used to and now find endearing).
But not all of my training and work takes place here. State wide trainings throw me into the mix with a variety of people, many of whom are highly experienced in the field, egotistical very confident in their opinions, and unyielding. Some of the guys though are more traditional then others, though. To the point where I have been slapped on the butt, had comments made about my chest being used as rescue apparatus, and being teased about being the only girl present in the room/company/etc. It's difficult. But I love this work. It's incredibly rewarding. And to be lucky enough to meet people like my boss and others who have supported me along the way is well worth it. I love my work. I just wish that the guys would realize that it doesn't matter what kind of chromosomes you have in an emergency situation. It matters how intelligent, prepared, and on your game you are. And, ladies and gentlemen, I've got game.
That almost sounds like a catchy name for a book, "the girl in the firehouse". Hen in the rooster's yard, cow in the bullpen, kitten in the puppy mill, however you sketch it, it comes down to this: I am, and have been for several years, out of place in respect to my line of work and gender.
Obviously, I'm not alone in this. There are plenty, plenty, plenty women out there who are the only female in the office. I'm just one of many. But still, even knowing that, it's a challenge sometimes to make sure I'm not snubbed or ignored. Where do I work? I'll give you a hint:
I'm not a firefighter, no. But I do share the same space as them. I'm an emergency planner (aka the person that makes the plans for when EVERYTHING goes wrong. You want to be my friend. Trust me.).
I love my work. My boss in phenomenal, supportive, and encouraging. He is a blessing, really. Every project I have come to him with, he's given me the full go ahead and lets me do my own thing, which is how I work best. But sometimes there are challenges.
For instance, when I first arrived, one of the volunteers asked if I was the new secretary. My Lt turned around and snapped at him as soon as I was out of the room, informing the volunteer I was the planner. I'm not recognized at many meetings outside of what I present, and I'm not voluntarily included in discussions. I push, I talk, I bribe with food, and I try to get them to relax. After a few months now, most of the crew feels comfortable enough to joke around me and I have slowly earned their respect. But it's hard won, and difficult to watch a new recruit walk in off the street and be instantly welcomed into the fold instead of going to the lengths that I did to get them to even swear around me (they still excuse themselves, which I have gotten used to and now find endearing).
But not all of my training and work takes place here. State wide trainings throw me into the mix with a variety of people, many of whom are highly experienced in the field, egotistical very confident in their opinions, and unyielding. Some of the guys though are more traditional then others, though. To the point where I have been slapped on the butt, had comments made about my chest being used as rescue apparatus, and being teased about being the only girl present in the room/company/etc. It's difficult. But I love this work. It's incredibly rewarding. And to be lucky enough to meet people like my boss and others who have supported me along the way is well worth it. I love my work. I just wish that the guys would realize that it doesn't matter what kind of chromosomes you have in an emergency situation. It matters how intelligent, prepared, and on your game you are. And, ladies and gentlemen, I've got game.
May 08, 2012
City of Brotherly Love, Sweet History, and Great Eats
Living around a historical city, or just a city in general, sometimes makes me forget how privileged I am sometimes. It also makes me forget how jaded I am to high gas prices, expensive hotels and food, aggressive drivers, and bad neighborhoods. But, one takes the good with the bad.
This past weekend was spent re-exploring, re-examining, and re-experiencing the city and all it has to offer. I love Philadelphia, although parts of it I could live without. My boyfriend has only ever seen the Art Museum and Chinatown, so we decided to look around the more notable places in the area. Bring on the pictures!
The Senate. Or what used to be the Senate. George Washington was sworn in in this VERY ROOM! (Let the high-pitched historical squee-ing begin.) And Adams, dear, dear, Adams. He was here too. Oh, John and Abagail, I want to model my romance after yours. (If you have never read the correspondances between the husband and wife, I suggest you do so at some point in the future. Romantic? Yes. Political? Oh yes. More than wonderful? By far!)
The Room. You know which one I'm talking 'bout. That awesome, sweet room where they debated, yelled, whispered, and compromised to bring us (drumroll please) the Constitution!
And then we took a break for some lunchage at Square Peg. If you're ever in the area looking for an awesome, funky, delicious, and unique dining experience: head here. Run. Do not walk. It's that good.
Warning: Serious nomiture ahead.
To start: Shrimp chips (which I had never had and turned out to be weirdly salty) tossed with fried baby tako (octopus), and melt-in-your-mouth calimari (which I actually tried). It came with this dipping sauce that I had to resist drinking. Think thousand island kicked up a notch in flavor and creaminess.
On to the entrees! He got cheesesteak pot pie, and could barely finish it. Kind of a one-of-a-kind Philadelphia experience.
I on the other hand opted for spicy falafel with lentil hummus, weirdly not quite pickled veggies, and chilled grilled cauliflower that was out of this world.
Drinks? I had a ginger Arnold Palmer (half lemonade, half ice tea), and he had a Yards (good choice, considering the city).
We went off then to explore Walnut Street and browse shops in which we could never afford anything (a fun past time of mine - I like to recreate the styles later from Target, JoAnn's, or other more affordable cheaper source).
Eventually we drove to the airport and then the most favorite part of the entire visit occured (nothing dirty, I promise). I parked between buildings so we could see the sky, and we reclined the front seats so I could put my head on his shoulder. We just relaxed, sometimes say something, but more often just enjoying being together. It's so rare we get these moments, and I love them. We're so foten off to the next adventure, which I absolutely LOVE, but sometimes, yeah, it's nice just to be together.
Until then, mon coeur!
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