Flash of Brilliance...

...Two Years Later.

I don't know whether I should be gratified by this or just walk away and shake my head in dismay.

Every once in a very, very blue moon, I check out the website of the environmental recycling organization I worked for a couple of years ago. As a few of you may recall, I was their director of fund development. I put together a pretty robust fundraising plan that resulted in some impressive increases in sponsorships for the organization's two largest annual events and could have resulted in some very impressive funding from foundations and corporate donors if the executive director had actually given me and the proposed work the proper time of day.

Instead, she ignored me and wouldn't reply to my emails or requests for meetings. Then, without indication and on the last day of the fiscal year, she told me I was "tedious to work with", giving me a common character trait with butternut squash, and sent me packing.

So, today, I thought, "What the hell. I'll have a look at the latest goings-on at the wretched former employer. Maybe they've finally fired the wretched former boss!" (In the secret and darkest corners of my heart, I hope bad karma for the WFB. You would, too, if you'd had the experience I had. Tragically, she's still there. I guess she's continued to succeed at snowing the board.)

First, turns out they've posted a listing for an opening for a director of fund development.

Ha! Ha ha ha. Good luck with that. Pffft. And to show how serious they are about finding the right person, they've put the admin assistant in charge of fielding resumes. Yeah. That's the person to put in charge when you're looking for the second or third most important slot in your non-profit. (Picture me rolling my eyes here.)

Second, they've added a "Donate Now" button to their website, which was something I proposed TWO YEARS ago when I was there. In the fund development community, it's become the quickest way to raise unsolicited, unattached (meaning, you don't have to give the donor anything. It's practically free money) funding without all the hassle. It's as simple as Jack or Jill Tree-Hugger clicking on a button, entering their Pay Pal information and making a quick contribution to an organization they adore. No fuss, no muss. The "with it" organizations have had them on their sites for several years now. Nice to see the WFE is finally getting with the times. Idiots.

Like I said, I don't know if I should be gratified or just shake my head. They could have been doing this two years ago and making money.

Whatever.

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You may have noticed I took down the entry about D.B. Cooper. I did that for Bee, because some of the anonymous comments were getting out of hand. One of the nameless commenters turned out to be her cousins' half-brother, which was fine, but the rest were a pain in the ass.

The fact still remains, though, that Bee's cousins are pretty much certain D.B. Cooper was their dad, Wolfgang "Bill" Gossett.

I'm still tripping out about that!

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In other news, I'm working on a personal project I hope to announce soon, so stay tuned to these parts.

Damn!

You know that mantra your mother use to holler at you from the kitchen as you'd sneak off into the living room or your bedroom with food? "Eating is to be done in the kitchen! Please come back and eat that in here, thank you."

Yeah, that mantra. There's a reason for it.

The reason would be, by eating in the kitchen you prevent spilling stuff on the furniture and carpets. This in turn prevents the potential for stains and ruined fabrics and shags.

Oh, sure. You're a grown up now and it's your furniture and carpet so Mom's mantra can take a hike. Right? Yeah, sure. Okay. Whatever.

Case in point.

Me, tonight. Big bowl of freshly made, generously buttered and salted, air popped popcorn. Sitting at my desk reading blogs, enjoying aforementioned popcorn. Have been craving this popcorn for more than a week, when I ran out of popcorn and have only just acquired refills.

Big bowl of popcorn. Me. Desk. Blog reading. Yum. The bowl is resting on my leg and is held against the desk and all seems well.

And then: whump! Clang.

I look down in disbelief at my long-awaited and savored bowl of popcorn lying upside down on the floor under my desk. My yummy, warm, buttery, salty popcorn. On the floor. Under my desk. And in my shoes.

After staring at this sad, sad, sad state of affairs, I push my chair back, get down on my hands and knees and start scooping my beloved popcorn back into the bowl. There is no allowance for the five second rule in this house, particularly in a house with cats.

My popcorn is languishing in its bowl, covered in cat hair and carpet fuzz and foot odor. What a waste.

And now, I can't wait for the stain that is going to slowly make itself manifest in the weeks ahead as the unavoidable dust and dirt from my shoes meets the butter and sticks.

So much for enjoying the rest of my popcorn with a little Daniel Craig in the DVD tonight.

Sigh.