On March 3, 2017 I posted the following to Facebook: "This week I'm working on creating backstories for why people say or do hurtful things so I can be more compassionate towards them. My goal is not to just 'walk a mile in their shoes' but to 'crawl a block in their baby shoes' since experience can influence behavior. But I have a quirky sense of humor so these backstories are morphing into tales worthy of Grimm." It wasn't long before my friends commented with suggestions and challenges. Here are the results: Chris: "Make sure you include a dancing bear! Everyone loves a dancing bear." Jennifer paused, listening intently. The hair stood up on the back of her neck, goosebumps raised on her arms. Surely he wouldn't threaten her again. The police had told her he would certainly be leaving her alone, in order to keep 'the incident' out of the papers. There it was again. A creak that sounded lik more than a creak. She glanced at Artemis, her kind orange tabby, to see if the naive feline would jump down to greet the intruder for a belly rub. Artemis was more reliable than any dog, albeit much quieter. Artemis calmly blinked beige eyes at Jennifer in a loving way. But still... How much of her fear was psychosomatic and how much was real? Her mind could play tricks on her; it happened to people with PTSD all the time. And PTSD is what the doctors said she was experiencing. She'd become jumpy and short-tempered since the attack, but who could blame her? Certainly no one believed what she knew to be the truth: The high-regarded Marvin Bingham, respected and revered owner of Bingham Foods, the Chamber of Commerce's Member of the Year, deacon of the First Baptist Church, and mentor to dozens of youth kept a dancing bear in his basement. Laura: "I want to see what you could drum up for me :-) You'd probably be pretty close!!" As she surveyed the PTA meeting attendees, Laura thought about the last couple of weeks and wondered why she felt apart from everyone else. Was it pride? Was it loneliness? People mixed and matched around her, conversations at a low roar, and unlike the meeting last month, all she felt she could do is watch in envy. "Verdammte glückliche Leute" she muttered, still weirded out that she could speak German. She hadn't ever studied it; she just woke up one day and the first words out of her mouth at breakfast were "Guten Morgan, kinder", which thoroughly confused her kids thinking she'd lost her mind. But she knew she wasn't verrückt, crazy... whatever. If she could suddenly wake up with a talent, why couldn't it be something more useful, like fixing wireless internet? She brushed off a man who approached her about a petition to the school to allow kids to leave school campuses for lunch. Who’s home to cook anymore? She thought absently as she focused again on the changes in her life. Spontaneous language abilities aside, she was pretty normal. She had two wonderful kids, a lovely life in Colorado (a dry wonderland compared to the muggy Fairfax, Virginia of her college days). But the nagging in the back of her mind kept her awake at night. Why couldn't she mesh with her friends anymore? Was it because of her new preferences? Often she caught herself humming Disney tunes, talking to wildlife (that prairie dog that she caught one day in her sewing room wasn't actually trying thread a needle, was it? Really, it deserved chastisement!), and choosing poofy dresses at the store. “Poofy” she thought and snorted. Never had those kinds of dresses been her style. Heck, her style ran to comfort and crinoline was anything but comfortable. She’d started braiding her hair in elaborate plaits from Pins she found online. It was maddening how much she’d changed over the last couple of weeks. Mike: "Work this in someplace: " The crow seemed to be calling his name, thought Caw."" Mike didn't know for certain why he was angry, he just knew he was - all the time. Social media posts threw him into a rage, causing him to point out poorly written prose and grammatical errors. His friends avoided dialog, opting instead to use Messenger to passive-aggressively convey suggestions on how to calm his temper. It happened after the wolf bite. He and Max and Grace had been out hiking with his friend George- “Call me Caw”. Why George chose such a ridiculous nickname, Mike would never know, just that it pissed him off. As they made their way up through the Devil’s Backbone, Mike started to notice a crow that seemed to be pacing them. It would fly ahead alighting on a rock, waiting for them to catch up and then flying ahead again. Every once in a while it would call out in a sharp, hoarse bark. “In hindsight, it must’ve been warning me about the wolf” he thought. “That crow seems to be calling my name!” exclaimed Caw excitedly and quite unnecessarily…. Rowdy: " Screw off yoga girl!"
"Yoga girls suck" thought Rowdy, as he stopped flipping at a fitness channel. Who do they think they are, all bendy and cheerful? Like anyone would WANT to twist themselves up like a pretzel. “Don’t forget to send breath to your elbows” the instructor encouraged in a smooth, low voice. “You people make my ass twitch” he responded, grumpily. “Send breath to your ASS.” Rowdy was well-known for his intolerance of limber-rats, as he called them. As he stroked his beard, he chortled, remembering the taunting he had thrown at that group in the park. “Your mother was a yoga mat and your father smelt of gym bags!” That had stopped them from their downward-facing shit. The bewildered looks followed him as he blew by on his motorcycle….
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Uga the Bulldog came by today, demanding proof of my Political Science degree. Uga: Claire Taylor, graduate of the University of Georgia, I am here to quiz you on polysci terms and facts to attest that you won't embarrass the School of Public and International Affairs at our fine institution. Me: Yessir. Uga: (sternly) You are aware this quiz would NOT be necessary if you contributed to the Alumni Association or if you actually worked in your field? Me: (contrite) Yessir. But I like to eat. Uga: (nods, slobbering on the carpet) I understand. Too bad. Now, who are your congressional representatives? Me: (confidently) Jared Polis in the House, Cory Gardner and Michael Bennet in the Senate. Uga: (eyeing my leg) Correct. And what case is in the Supreme Court right now that may affect Colorado? Me: (nervously) Nebraska and Oklahoma v. Colorado over NE and OK's inability of their executive branch to enforce their own states' laws. Uga: (sidling up to my shin) Inflammatory, but I'll allow it. Now, what is a "first past the post" system? Me: (trying to subtly back away) A voting system in which the person with the most votes wins, as opposed to proportional representation that allows for more than one winner. It contributes to the continuation of a two-party system, which when combined with a possible leader of the opposing party, purposefully leads to gridlock, weakening the federal system, a design put into place by people victimized by feudal lords over hundreds of years. Uga: (voice lowering, front paws now on my thigh) You really know your stuff, girly. Now for the final question: What is a caucus? Me: (grabbing a newspaper) DOWN! DOWN! (smacking that damn dog and avoiding the one question I didn't know the answer to) Uga: (embarrassed) Ah, ok. No worries. Gotta go. Keep the degree. Me: (relieved) Ok. Thanks. ***No dog was actually abused in this exchange *** Dear Potent IT Team,
Could it, would it, why should it be Our CTCT blogs can’t come to me! Could you tweak that list of white, That is so good at email blight? So I may learn what things will pass To make my marketing très kick-ass! Claire Taylor My coworkers, though patient, usually had a limit.
Dear Righters of Wrongs, Princes of Patience, and overall Helpful Handymen, (I apologize in advance for my angst. This latest escapade has cumulated all of my technological frustrations of the past two months to the point that I am hiding under my desk, quietly bemoaning my cursed state.) My recalcitrant antiquated Nortel phone of dubious parentage will only allow speakerphone calls. I’ve checked its myriad of wires, restarted the phone, sang a dozen psalms of praise, sacrificed a mutant carrot, and stabbed at the “Headset” button repeatedly in an attempt to USE the (probably French) headset. Please help. My cohorts are weary of my carping, so I turn to you, o kind ones. Claire Taylor Working for an email marketing company can lead to a full inbox.
Dear Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries on the North wall of the Western Location of the Department of Magic, I gazed into my Mirror of Erised today and saw that I desire an empty inbox with organized tasks. A squib friend of mine told me of a charm I could use that could help. “Evanesco!” or as muggles call it, “Boomerang” . My house elf, Chromey, tried “Accio” to bring the charm to me from the Net of Requirement, but a Dark Mark warning me of possible doom appeared in the sky, er, browser: “Boomerang30Day.exe is not commonly downloaded and could be dangerous. Discard?” Such a dire warning! As I depend solely on your magical expertise to keep my house elf in line, I kindly request to know if Boomerang is a charm for which we already have licenses that I may use as an email reducio and online Remberall, or is it possibly a Boggart that will appear as a Dementor and suck the life, the very essence, the RAM out of my computer, um, house elf? Sincerely, Claire Taylor Muggle Training Specialist - Midwest Spiritual battle is a very real thing.
Oh great technological Pontiffs! My Surface, the brainchild of Satan and Mr. Gates, is refusing (most vehemently) to connect to the SumOfAllHumanKnowledgeNet. Such knowledge is needed, as the Surface is woefully inept in many respects – too many to name here in a simple request for connection – but there’s a phrase in the South we use, “it’s a good thing she’s pretty” that can apply to the Demon Seed Tablet. As Rick, exorciser of Computer Imps, has already attempted to rectify the situation, there’s no need to assign another priest, er, tech to my ticket. @Rick … the connection fiend has disappeared; however, there’s one other malignant spirit lingering inside the vile machine: Microsoft’s battle against Google is playing out in the Chrome browser. Every attempt to bring up Chrome cries, “Class not registered!" despite uninstalling and reinstalling Chrome. Shall I create another ticket? Sincerely and in benevolent appreciation, Claire The sacrifice of little-used office supplies was always my go-to for incurring favor. Small insects next were offered, and if my issue warranted it, sometimes my firstborn.
Dear god of security Rick, I have unknowingly VIOLATED our content edicts, as written by the Great One, Symantec. However, these files are necessary to me in my pursuit of customer success, and you know what our intrepid CEO says ... Customers First. Always. (lemme wipe my nose off here ...) Can you, in your omnipotence, release the files so I may use them to please the seething masses who pay for our company lifestyle of beer and happiness? I am willing to sacrifice an empty toner cartridge of Holy Magenta (HM) to the Chupacabra of IT if you can do said task. Yours in humility, Claire Taylor -A little use of my political science degree seemed in order.
Dear Helpdesk Ones, A dongle on my laptop cradle is leading the revolution in stopping my productivity. Like its anarchist forefathers, it’s encouraging my wireless mouse and keyboard to lay down their tools and stop working for the Man. Though I am (quite obviously) not a man, my peripherals seem to care not and are following the dictates of the politically-charged dongle quite closely. I have relocated the dongle to other ports, in hopes of getting it to see the light of productivity, but alas, it continues to defy me. I have turned both the keyboard and mouse on and off, but even that doesn’t cause them to bend to my will. Please send a strike-buster to me to reconcile or beat my minions into submission. Sincerely, Claire Taylor Is a bribe really a bribe if it's publicly stated?
Dear Holiday Elves of the IT Department, All I would truly like for Christmas is to whitelist all of CTCT’s IP addresses in my “Look Known as Out” so all of our emails come through with images already downloaded. Is such a wish possible in this magical season of Peace on Earth and Goodwill towards IT departments? Or does the Grinch who has written the evil (not always) code of said “Look” prevent such happiness from permeating man(and woman)kind? If allowed, be it me or thee who takes such measures in the Holy Options? Please reply at your leisure and be sure to include your Christmas wish; I shall endeavor to fulfill it. With humility and hope, Yours, Claire Taylor A perennial problem for me, water and electronics.
Oh great tech ones! Please forgive my transgression. A most disobedient water bottle fell upon my laptop, expelling around 16 drams (2oz) across its lower half. Having many a-time dropped my mobile in a tub, I immediately knew to remove its power source, which I did with great haste and verbal ceremony. It now sits forlorn on my hotel desk, mourning its lost youth…or maybe that’s me. How many suns must I wait until I may once again glory in its power? Alas, I cannot come to you, as I am in the genteel coastal city of Charleston. Further, I shan’t return to our fair, mellow state until Monday, December 1st. Until I may use my laptop, the demon seed SurfacePro has become my main mode of communication. I’ve named it Shithead Jones, for I do not glory in Windows 8 as of yet. Sincerely, Claire Taylor |
AuthorClaire Taylor is an adventuress born of actor parents and raised by the dreams of the Eighties. When not working, she can be found petting wildlife in foreign countries among other adventures. After 10 years in Colorado and a short stint in Mexico, she's back in the U.S. Archives
March 2017
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