Taking one for the team

We're in Florida for Christmas, and it surely does not feel like Christmas since the weather is overly pleasant for this time of year, although the humidity (currently 94%) is a deal breaker.

There are some times when the "dad" has to take hit for the team, and today would be one of those occasions. See, previously I would have not suspected that I would be making a blog post on Christmas day, yet here I am. I am here because my family is at DisneyWorld without me. The park was "filled to capacity" and so I didn't get in. But everyone else did. Meanwhile, I've done a couple loads of laundry, burnt an omelet, and have yearned for a nap, of which will probably not come. I'm just not big on naps; but this has slightly changed with my high-maintenance princess-in-training.

I suppose I cannot complain too much. After all, I've never been too keen on Disney anything. Buggs Bunny was more my style. Still, this is the day you're supposed to spend with family. And I know they plan to stay until the fireworks display. Maybe I'll take a dip in the pool, soak in the spa, and blame the water for those tears in my eye.

Aargh!

So this is my punishment for making fun of King Triton and his slow swimmers. Super.

As you know, or will know shortly, we're expecting a girl instead of a boy now, which immediately sent my wife searching through names since before we were totally fixated on boy names. No more.

Clearly there is some correlation going on here. A few of my other manly man friends who grew up with me in the Pacific Northwest have also only spawned women-folk, and I am not sure why. Perhaps it is to even out the playing field -- after all, we are manly men. But on the other hand, it could be a curse or even a parting gift from our Order of the Arrow adviser, who, coincidentally, controlled the water for the region.

On the one hand, my daughter will have a sister. On the other, more proms, weddings and other girlie things such as drama. Oooo I can't wait. The good news is that my wife was gracious enough to say that I can buy more weapons now, which I fully intend to do so. But I'll probably have to turn one of my daughters into a tom-boy. Both will get some sort of self-defense class, perhaps Judo or Jujitsu. Of course, I'll inventory some mace/pepper-spray for them and the obligatory "all penises are evil" tattoo on their foreheads -- last thing I need to hear is "daddy I'm pregnant" before they graduate from high school.

*sigh* I'm sure I'll think of more stuff to fret over in the not-t00-distant future. Girls are so scary when you have no idea how to manage them. So far as I am concerned, you give them jewelry and shoes and things work out fine. Throw in a lame romantic vampire book and it's even better. But this ... this is on the verge of madness. Guess I'll have to watch more Little Mermaid, see how King Triton manages all his daughters ... and still have time to curse me. Wait, King Triton sucked at it, Ariel being the example therein. Crap. Ariel. Crap, crap, crap!

It's just rude

As some of you know, I've been looking for work just like so many other folks these days. Well, a few weeks ago I had a job interview with HeadStart. Today I went in for a follow-up and basically, an offer to work there provided I pass a physical and urine analysis. I don't fear too much of the outcome, but my blood pressure was slightly elevated in the "normal" area.

Here's what I don't like, and maybe you can agree: I don't like dirty old doctors with cold hands man-handling my privates. And the fact that this guy had to do it thrice really irritates me because in the end, I had to pay for it! I mean, I vigorously coughed twice, but "just for good measure" we did it once more. Super! I don't know, maybe he considered it a date or something, but he could at least have a little common courtesy next time -- warm up the hands, and maybe fetch me a heavy shot of morphine. I'd rather not remember these sorts of things.

The worst part is that now I feel like I need a heavy dose of Viagra. I can still feel the coldness gripping the life out of ... uhm, me. But, as he told me with a solid smile, I don't have a hernia. Great, but I also don't have a libido either. I feel there is a coorelation. Maybe next time he can give me a ride in his red Corvette that was so prominently parked outside the clinic. But then, maybe I could charge him next time too. I mean, if I'm going to incur mental scars, I want to at least make a buck or two while doing it. It's the American way.

Disney movie in review

I am not sure how to label it correctly, but I am becoming a Disney pro, at least with regards to their movies, uhm, specifically the girlie ones, sadly.

Yes, there are days wherein we watch Beauty and the Beast or Little Mermaid 3 times in one day. Good thing the themes aren't suicide in those movies. But, I am at odds with The Little Mermaid. What a terrible motive it drives; disobey your parent, make a deal with the witch in order to get yourself in a better position with a guy who doesn't have a problem with statutory issues (Ariel being 16 and all...). Not only that, but then mortgaging your dad's soul only to have your new boyfriend kill your enemy, and then have daddy grant your misguided wish in the end. Hate it.

As it was pointed out to me earlier this week, Disney certainly has issues with putting mothers in their movies. Please note that Ariel, Belle, Snow White, Jasmine, Lilo (and Stitch) and Cinderella do not have moms. Others would be Nemo and Bambi who have mom's that are voiolently killed. Pinocchio is, uh, I guess it doesn't matter -- Jiminy Cricket is his mom in a way. There are a few with moms, but they play very minor roles; Mulan, Sleeping Beauty (aka, Aurora, Briar Rose), thankfully the Incredibles have a mom that is prominent. There are a some movies where having a mother is not so important; Toy Story, WALL-E, and perhaps even Simba of the Lion King. (I need to watch this one again.)

I suppose in a way it is to have us connect more quickly with a sympathetic bond to the character, but overall, I mean, these stories could have been avoided with a good mother having NOT been killed off by malicious Disney writers. I mean, maybe Ariel would have made it to her 17th birthday unwed had she been reared by a caring mother. (Although she is a head-strong redhead -- hard to say.) At the same time, I could cite King Triton as culpable as he CLEARLY engaged in polygamy looking at all the closely aged daughters he has. And no son to speak of... slow swimmers I guess. Stay out of the hot tub buddy.

Belle has class and grace, so I imagine her mother died not too long ago since in the beginning Belle sings of having recently moved to this "provincial town." Creating a back story, I reckon her father moved out of the loving house he and his wife had built, to a place that didn't remind him of her. Coincidentally, I feel Gaston has a back story of knowing about the beast and the castle he lives in which he all-of-a-sudden mentions during his song. I've already put together a pretty good story for that.

Cinderella's mom died early on, as the beginning says as much. Of course, she gets that wicked step-mother who does not have much foresight. Look, your daughters get uglier with age, so bank on Cinderella making it big and taking care of the whole family later on. She really messed up, and if I had been Cinderella in a non-gay way, those step-family members would find their respective heads on chopping blocks.

Jasmine is probably the product of a drunken sultan and a full harem. Arabian nights for sure... nuff said. But that lack of mothering led her into the arms of a common thief. Sure, in the end he pretends to be a good guy, but I bet he turned to thievery because he didn't have a caring mom either.

I don't like Snow White. Any chick that digs living with 7 dwarves is NOT my kind of woman and should seek counseling for such fetishes. And those seven dwarves are idiots, not lovable as they obviously have no clue for managing finances. They work every day in a mine replete with gems and diamonds, and yet live in a one bedroom cottage. I don't buy it. They must be using that filthy lucre for other devious methods, such as crack-cocaine addiction or monthly membership dues to NAMBLA. A mother could have steered Snow White clear of such devises.

Lilo is set up to be an obvious match for a maniacal escape alien convict on the run. And because I like Stitch, I'll let this motherless duo slide. But, again, had a mother been involved, Stitch would have been booted out for reasons any human would; it's a friggin' alien!

So I wonder if the overall message from Disney is to show us just how important mothers really are. By giving us these motherless stories, they demonstrate just how bad it can be without a mom in the life of a child. Because clearly these father-only families are just not cutting it.

My regards to Nemo and Bambi, but I am sure your respective mothers were tasty. Actually, haven eaten a Bambi mother myself, I can vouch for that. And yes, I'd do it again even if it provoked another motherless Disney movie.

Sickening times

Not too chipper these days, and it's not so much about being unemployed (still), but because of being sick altogether. Especially since I am on the 6th day of this "cold". I don't feel "cold" so I am not sure why it is called that. I feel miserable, and thus it should be called.

It is kinda hard getting over this; I've taken vitamins, pills, and tried to sleep more but the rambunctious 2 year old here, in all her overt loud ways, limits my naps to 15 minute increments at best.

I suppose I do not feel miserable as much, though. I mean, now I feel okay, but my nose is clogged and I have a cough, but I feel well enough to maybe do a push-up or maybe run to the mailbox. Even when I am not sick, those are pushing the normal limits. I just hate waking up with a plugged up nose, unable to breathe, and coughing up a storm. So I sound terrible, but feel okay.

As for the employment front, I finally applied for unemployment; the first time in my life. I was hoping to never use those benefits, but now I'll gain a new perspective on living life. One less point for me to make fun of poor people I guess. Don't worry, I'll think of something witty to replace it. In the meantime, I do have a job interview with HeadStart on Thursday, so I really need to get over this "miserable."

Not like the movies

Last night when I went to bed, I noted that my band aid had come off my thumb.

Saturday evening, I went the easy route for cooking and baked a frozen pizza. Sure, I spruced it up by adding more pepperoni and olives, but frozen pizzas taste like frozen pizzas; I don't care what Digiorno's tells us in their commercials. Anyway, while reaching into the drawer to retrieve the pizza cutter, my right thumb grazed the potato peeler and efficiently grated a nice chunk out of the tip of my thumb. That potato peeler has never been so effective!

Well, it bleed quit a bit, so I had to get a band aid for it lest I add more sauce to the pizza than desired. Of course, they really do not make band aids for the tip of your thumb with a skin flap that just kinda dangles there. So I tailored a band aid to suit my needs. I do it all the time, actually. As a matter of fact, if there was a pageant for tailored band aids, I would be a band aid beauty quee ... uhm, nevermind.

Anyway, the point is that my haute couture band aid was missing when I went to bed last night. And I can't sleep with that errant flap of skin rubbing the wrong away against the blankets. It just feels wrong. And rather than sculpting a new band aid, I opted to do what I had heard of, and then recently seen in the new Incredible Hulk movie, which is to improvise with super glue. And lo and behold, I had just bought 2 tubes of it last week. It was destiny, obviously.

So, at about 1am or thereabouts, I decided it was time to McGyver my injuries. Well, I opened up a tube and I guess I was holding it wrong because a huge glob of glue emerged over the wound. Naturally, I tried to quickly spread it into the area and you'll never guess what happened. Yeah, all of a sudden my index finger was glued to my thumb, making the world's most perfect 'A-OK' sign. I would have won that pageant too. Not to mention some sort of Darwin award, although that usually entails death and I hadn't made it that far, yet.

Next step in this brave process was pulling out a steak knife and cutting the two fingers apart. It took way too long, and not surprisinly, the flap of skin was not secured. Another glob came out, an this time I got the flap of skin down, but also managed to get the bottle of super-glue stuck to my thumb as I was using that to secure the flap down. Ridiculous! Looked so much easier in the movies! But, I was able to get it off with some moderate pulling.

So this morning, I looked at my worthy self-made reparations. Behold! I now have a dead flap of skin stuck to my body. Yeah, apparently I should have just cut off the flap of skin an moved on with my life. Now I have to wait for the glue to wear off and let my body heal itself, without my meddling. So that means, of all the pageants I could have won, clearly the pageant of stupidity was my fortee. C'est la vie...

Upon reflection

The other day my wife asked me if my boss had ever responded to my email, in which I responded that he had, technically, by replying that it "was a long email," and that he would have to "give it some consideration." At that point in our conversation, I had that epiphanical 'Ah-ha!' moment. Yes, I made up the word "epiphanical," we're still allowed to make up words so long as Bush is in office.

Anyway, migrating back to the original point at hand, I'll need to give you some background on working at the state, specifically for the Oregon Health Plan. First, my manager/boss had been there at the state 3 weeks less than myself. He had come out of the Marines as a Staff Sergeant, and was now within the cubicle bliss like the rest of us. I mostly liked him, well, up until last Friday. Still, I respect him for his service in Iraq, and so on and so forth.

Next, when I was hired, it was expected that a worker would process 10 claims per day, 200 per month. In so doing, we were getting 10,000 applications processed per month (in September). In August, we were about 800 applications behind schedule. When I left, it was up to 5,000. This was due to the weakening economy, so more families were defaulting to OHP for medical coverage. Plus, the Reservation List applications were coming in too (there was a lottery for adults to get on OHP). So, succinctly put, we were getting inundated with applications.

Thus, it was completely unexpected when a new policy was handed down that we now needed to keep applications alive longer, twice as long, as previously. Again, some background for you; If you were to request an application for OHP benefits today, your Date of Request (DOR) would be 11/4/08. You now have 45 days to get that application in to an OHP branch, otherwise, your DOR is null and a new DOR is set the day we finally get the new application. The point of the DOR is that we will back-track your OHP coverage to that day.

Okay, moving forward, now let's say you have benefits already, and it's now time for recertification (recert). We mail you an application and you HAVE to get it back the month your coverage ends. If you don't then we DD deny them. Kind of redundant terminology, DD stands for Date Denial, so saying DD Deny means you're repeating words. But, that's the jargon.

Okay, so let's say that November is your recert month, you get your application in today, and you don't provide all your proof of income for the past 3 months. So we'll "pend" you for more information, giving you 45 days to respond. 45 days from today, by my layman math, is 12/19/08. If a worker doesn't get it, by the old standard, then you sent out the DD paperwork and the case was closed. Not so now, let's say you actually do get the information, but it's a week late or more. Well now you have to repull the denied application, and let's just say it wasn't all the "pended" information either, you now have to give them an additional 45 days, thus pushing the time into February for response. And, the benefits are still retroactive to November.

So, we're already 5,000 applications behind schedule and rising, and now we're supposed to hold onto application an additional 45 days for up to 90 days total, thereby creating more work? Well, in that same week, we were told that we now have to process 12 applications a day, 250 a month. They changed it a little, before we were "pushed" 10 apps (applications) a day by our supervisors. Now they are only pushing 7, but it was up to us to get the additional 5 done.

A little more background to understand: OHP is paperless. We don't get the paper app that you would fill out. Instead, we get a scanned version sent to our desktop. And the denials we send out are never seen by us in the tangible sense. Before hand, when you were done with the 10 apps and felt like doing more, you would check the general program queue that would list out names, DOBs, Case #, SS#, and any other salient information for cases waiting to be processed. But, because we now had the option to pick at least 5, all information save for the client name, were blocked out. Accordingly, they didn't want us to discriminate on the details of cases.

I can somewhat understand this, however, there was one serious repercussion, it also blocked out the information on our already processed and pended cases. So if you had already requested information on a case, it was in your queue waiting to be finished. If a client called, you could look up their name in the pend queue, see the case number, and look up what you did. Not anymore. You would now have to do a person search, and if their name was John Smith or Jose Garcia, good luck finding them, 1 in 10,000 at least.

I hope this gives you a good enough foundation to understand all that was swirling about. We had a team "huddle" -- I guess meetings are so passe -- and discussed these changes. There were lots of dissents. We had an airing of grievances, but I was pretty quiet since I was the lowest man on the totem pole. Anyway, I told my boss that I would send him an email, and I summarized the above, and added in some things that I thought would be helpful.

In hindsight, however, I see that I challenged his authority on that matter. I told him that blocking out that information wasn't necessary because all cases would be worked anyway, so there was no discrimination since every day, he would be pushing apps to our queue. Plus, it added an extra step to our processing as well since we couldn't see the case numbers in our pend queue. Blocking out that information was his idea. I also commented on the new policy which ultimately gave the client more reason to be lazy, and more work for us, plus, cost the department more money because it gave benefits where they weren't deserved.

Yeah, I overstepped my boundaries. It's kind of obvious now. I made it as professional as I know how. My early retirement was perhaps a culmination of things, but honestly, I was just trying to make things more efficient -- I guess I was barking up the wrong, uhm, state. And clearly, had I gone along with the sexual harassment thing as cited in the other post, I'd probably be a manager myself by now. I mean, I am efficient...