How You Are in "Real" Life

I'm sitting here watching the reunion show for "Food Network Star" and I'm listening to people kind of... well... tear each other apart. Some of it is through clips from the season, and some is simply part of the reunion show.

Anyone who watches "reality" TV knows that editing can play a huge role in how a person is portrayed and perceived. Clips can be strung together to make an angel look like a devil, or a loon come across as the only sane one in the house. At the same time, though, there is the realization that every clip that shows up on TV *did* happen. The context might be messed with. The intent might be mis-played. But whatever we're seeing actually did happen.

So, I just heard someone say "I'm not like that in real life. Am I like that in business? Yes. Am I like that in a competition? Yes. But that's not how I am in real life."

But... Umm... If you spend 1/3 of your life (on average) at your job doing your business, doesn't that mean that you ARE that way in real life?

I work with this type of situation every day. I think that - for the most part - I'm exactly the same person in the office that I am out of it. (For better or worse.) My sense of humor is the same. My loyalties to my friends are the same. My desire to produce a good product that I can be proud of is the same. And, yes, the troubles I have with "suffering fools gladly" is exactly the same.

I work with two or three other people who have a tendency to drive me pretty darned close to the edge of wanting to not be professional with them. But they are friends with other co-workers I really enjoy. And I'm constantly told that they're "not like that when they're not at work."

My question? "Why not?" Or, more appropriately "So why do they have to be like that at work?"

People who don't speak to you at work, but want to be chummy as soon as you leave the office. People who are rude and unpleasant for 8 hours of the day, and are apparently sweet as pie as soon as the clock strikes 5. I'm sorry, but if we - as people - are really only awake for about 16 hours per day, and if 8 of those hours are at work, it seems to me that the jerkiness actually *is* the real life way that these people are.

On the other hand, last week I ran into a situation where someone in my office was being... well... to be polite... a total ass - as he has been ever since he started. And, for the first time, I decided not to just sit back and take it, and I told him so. I emailed later to apologize for being as straightforward as I had been, and offered a few tips for how we might work past the situation.

What I got in response was something from him saying "Hey. No problem. It happens." Which, I guess, means that he's accepting my apology for calling him an ass, but not apologizing for being one. Gee. That makes me feel *so* much better.

Sadly, I doubt that the people I work with will ever get to watch themselves on a reality TV show. And - considering that reaction from last week - I'm guessing that all we'd hear afterward would be "But, that's not how I am in my real life."

Friday Food - Fondly

I found out this week that a favorite pizza joint (I started to write "restaurant" but that didn't sound right) in St. Paul is going to be changing hands later this month. Or, rather, it has already changed hands and is going to be having a full makeover - both of the decor and of the food - within the month.

The place is called Grandpa Tony's. It's been around for years and has really really good basic pizza. The thin crust pizza has a cracker-y crust around the edges, and the sauce is really good. And, well, there's word that the pizza will no longer be on the menu.

I'm guessing that Grandpa Tony's decided to call it quits because, a couple of years ago, a Little Caesar's pizza went in right across the street. So you had the old, good, more expensive pizza place across the street from the new, really pretty awful, cheap place. And, it seems, cheap but pretty awful has won.

So Christopher and I made a pilgrimage over there tonight with his sister (who will remain unnamed since I didn't ask if I could put her name in here) who lives in the area. The pizza was still basically the same, although there was a bit less pepperoni on it. But we had the same waiter we've had in the past and overall it was good.

The menu is definitely beginning to change (they've now got a wine list) and the decor has been re-done. And they now have 2 desserts on the menu, one of which was an amazing fresh, warm, gooey chocolate brownie with (not quite enough) vanilla ice cream.

We left having enjoyed the evening, although we are kind of worried that too many more changes might not be in our favor. We'll keep trying again, though, and hoping for the best. At least for now.

Something That Makes Me Happy

I know that, yesterday, I posted about a few things that are kind of freaking me out in the world at the moment.

Well, today in my inbox I got a poem sent by the nice folks at Knopf Doubleday, home of the Borzoi Reader.

It seems that we, as a nation, have a brand-spankin' new Poet Laureate, in the person of Philip Levine.

Now, I have to admit that I don't know much about Mr. Levine. Nor do I really follow current poetical trends or anything. But I do love - rather a lot, actually - the fact that our nation, in all its screwed-up-ed-ness, still has a Poet Laureate.

And, having read the one poem which the nice people from the Borzoi Reader sent out to my email, I've got to admit that I'm rather glad that - for this moment in time - it's Mr. Levine.

The poem can be found by clicking this link. (I'm not copying and pasting because I don't want to muck with copyright stuff.)

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Here's to mountains and oceans and valleys and all the little stuff that makes them so grand.

Tuesday Quickies

A few quick things, since I'm soon to head for bed, but I don't want to leave another day with a blank screen:

- I found out today that the person who keeps me sane at work will be leaving the company later this month. I suspect it will be a bumpy ride - personally and professionally - for a while.

- I'm kind of freaked out by all that is going on in the world at the moment. Riots all over England. Monetary weirdness. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

- I don't understand how our TiVo decides what things it wants to advertise when we press Pause. How is a luxury car tag connected to an ad for the Minneapolis Institute of Arts in the background?

- Gorgeous weather, here, today. So of course I have a major sinus headache.

- Want to know why I'm firmly against the people who think that the Defense of Marriage Act is a good thing? Check out this link and tell me how what the government is doing in the name of that act is good.

- I did a bunch of weeding in the front planting beds (which are currently mostly devoid of plants), this past weekend. My legs are still killing me.

And, well, that gets you caught up on what's in my mind, lately. At least the short version. I'll try to give you the longer version, soon.

Working for/on the Weekend

Over the past few weeks, I've been working on editing a couple of things for the freelance side of my job. I do this fairly often (since my base pay is kind of bare minimum, it's how I afford to do fancy things like put gas in my car and buy new socks), and I usually get a good mix of manuscripts to work on.

I've worked on a lot of fiction (my favorite, I'll admit), as well as some political rants (from multiple sides of the aisles), some religious essays (and some religious tirades), and a bunch of memoirs. I guess that's what you get when you're working in self-publishing. Everyone is writing whatever stories they need to tell, and the strange and/or unsaleable isn't really weeded out along the way.

Some things I've edited have really not needed an editor (I've read a few things where - frankly - I only made one or two comments per chapter), and some have been really really bad. Things where the document wasn't even spell-checked. Or where the full "documentation" was something like "Wikipedia." Or one piece of fiction where the hero miraculously ran a mile across rain-slicked grass in a massive storm in the middle of the night, all with his hands in his pockets. And don't even get me started on the piece where one "journal entry" started in 1985 and ended 50 pages later in 1992...

But in each piece I've tried to find some glimmer of hope. Some spark to hold on to. The fact that Wikipedia guy had strong convictions. Or that the hero - with just a few keystrokes - was able to check his pocket for his keys, then take his hand back out to catch himself before he fell. Or that the journal entry (though in need of a major slice-and-dice) was filled with great details.

And then there came the past two things I've worked on.

One detailed the death, by drug overdose, of the author's child. It could have been a really moving story, had it not been written - and sent for publication - all within 8 months of the time the child died. So much anger and frustration and blame floating around in the manuscript. I wanted to sit the author down and say "Stop. Wait. Listen to what you're saying." But I know that other people in the office have already tried that, so I did my best to soften the edges of that book and sent it on its way desperately trying not to let it depress me - either for the subject matter or the serious damage done to the English language.

The piece I've been working on this weekend is a memoir of the author's parent's life, which was filled with love, abuse, alcohol, and - eventually - murder. About 1/4 of the book details the abusive relationship. About 1/2 of the book details the murder investigation and trial. About 9/10 of it is depressing, even though the author clearly means it to be a cautionary tale for others in the same position.

I feel pretty bad for Christopher when I'm working on things like this. They're so depressing to me, and I have to both read them for content while also paying close enough attention to make sure that they're all correct on the page. No skimming allowed. So I find myself barricaded in the basement for hours trying to get through these things and desperately looking forward to getting out the other side. (And then, ironically, in a month or so, I'll probably be writing some winning sales copy for the back covers in the hopes that the books will sell...)

From time-to-time on days like today I come upstairs and watch total fluff on TV, hug Christopher, scratch the pup, and hope that the next manuscript will be lighter.

Christopher uses times like this to remind me that it's extra money.

I use times like this to remind myself that my life is pretty darned good - especially since I have Christopher around to remind me of, well, anything.

Life in HD

A few months ago, Christopher and I upgraded our main "normal" TV to a flat-panel HD one. (And, no, I can't give you more technical details than that.)

I have to admit that I've come to enjoy it. On some levels.

On the one hand, it's bigger and so you can watch wide-screen movies and TV shows without having it all either cropped or letterboxed to the point where what you're watching is almost too small to see. And the HD-ability is pretty cool. Seeing things like the blades of grass in a TV commercial (or being able to tell that the guy is actually standing on a green mat) is kind of cool.

On the other hand, it's bigger so you can see everything better. And the HD quality means that you see EVERYthing. And, well, there are some things that you really don't need to see all of. Like when you accidentally stop on a surgery channel when you were looking for FoodTV. Or when you're watching a movie and keep getting distracted because you can tell that the star is standing on a green mat, instead of actual grass.

And, you know, sometimes life is like that, too.

Sometimes you want to see every detail and know exactly what you're dealing with at all times - to be able to count every blade of grass and know that some are less-green than others.

Other times, though - not all the time, but occasionally for a break - it's nice to just see the green mat and be happy.

Now if only I could figure out a way to see the happy, albeit fake, green mat and color in my own blades of grass...

Travel Tuesday - Just Not Us

My folks were here in town for the past few days, which is a major component in why I haven't blogged since last week.

They came into town on Friday night and we had a great time. We went to a Pink Martini concert (they performed with the Minnesota Orchestra) on Saturday night. On Sunday night we had dinner with Christopher's folks after having shopped and gone to a movie earlier in the day. Last night - capping off the food-fest - we went out for pizza before we came home and spent time getting everything packed up.

And, this morning, they packed up the car and headed south for Missouri.

The house is oddly quiet tonight. Odd, in part, because evenings at home with my folks are usually pretty calm - TV or book kind of nights. And, yet, the fact that we're down to half as many people in the house is definitely noticeable.

Travel... brings people together... and, well, it gives them a chance to get together again in the future.