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Kiss and Tell...
Kass's Tales of Mischief
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Confess Your Sins
Tim Russert was one of the few journalists left that I have even a modicum of respect for.

My training, my original calling in life was journalism. I got a degree in journalism. My first job was in journalism. I loved it--until I got there. I found that the days of fair and relatively unbiased (no one can be truly unbiased, but that is another discussion) reporting were on their way out. It was becoming acceptable for journalists to use their positions to openly advocate for one political stance or another. It was becoming acceptable for journalists to create evidence and situations to justify their own beliefs and put forth those beliefs as "factual" news. This trend is now firmly ensconced in American "jouranlism." Reporters don't report, they comment. Inconvenient facts are ignored. Salacious bits of information, verified or not, are grossly exaggerated to create sensation. American jouralism is a disreputable and shameless enterprise. It was embarrassing to be a part of it, so between that and the insanely low pay for everyone who isn't Tom Brokaw was enough to push me out. Any way, there isn't enough money for me to publicly bring shame to myself.

Tim Russert never stooped those embarrassing depths. He never verbally chased an interviewee around the table. Whether he agreed with his guests or not, he treated them with respect and courtesy. He let them speak and complete sentences. It was often difficult to know where Mr. Russert stood because he would play devil's advocate, adopting the opposite stance of his guests. He didn't use his position as a very prominent television figure to promote his own agendas. He would never compromise his own integrity with something so low.

On top of being the consummate professional, he was a tremendous family man and human being. He was an adoring son and devoted father. His own father was an inspiration for Mr. Russert's books and he became a model for any man who wants to be a good father--or anyone who wants to be a good parent.

The world is a a lesser place with out Mr. Russert and my heartfelt condolences and prayers go out to his father, wife and son.

May you go with God, Tim Russert.
Confess Your Sins
I got a call on my answering machine last night for my ex-husband. Considering that we have been divorced for almost 11 years to the day come March, I was surprised to say the least. I wrote down the number and called the lady back today.

I explained that we were divorced and had been for nearly 11 years and asked how she got the number. Apparently, they ran a check going way back found a common address and then traced forward to me. I gave Ms. M the address I had for him (his mothers--he's 45 years old and still lives with his mommy).

Ms. M was very nice. She gave me his current address and she had the phone number I did--his mother's of course. We exchanged some information. She said if she found any more information, she'd call me. I asked her what she was calling about expecting to not get an answer due to assorted confidentiality laws, etc.

She told me.

The rat-bastard-son-of-a-bitch (yes, his mother is a bitch) applied for and GOT a federal school loan. The goddamned federal government is giving him money when he owes me more than $11k in child support and owes the mother of his second child more than $6k in child support. The IRS seizes his refund (when he actually files his taxes) and gives it to us. Yet, they are giving him money.

Being delinquent on your child support can get your license revoked, can cause denial of many benefits from the government and they still gave him the money. Our government is fucked.

And people wonder why I am so anti-entitlement programs. This is a picture perfect example. If he wants to go to school, he can get off his lazy, irresponsible, good-for-nothing ass and work for it. Like the taxpayers will ever get that money back. I'm busting my ass to pay taxes and loans and he's incapable of holding a job for more than two years, has long gaps in his employment history and is a fucking moron who is getting some of the money I pay in taxes.

I don't fucking believe it.

Current Mood: pissed off spitting nails

1 Confession or Confess Your Sins
Sent out email and spelled the recipient's name wrong. Recalled it and resent it--only to forget to attach the attachment.

I know I am forgetting something I need to do, but darned if I can think of what it is.

I did remember to ask a co-worker to escort me out when she leaves.

Forgot I asked someone a question and got an answer, so I asked again--just 45 minutes later.

Forgetting my badge this morning also means I couldn't go over and get my new access ID that will allow computer access. Had to reschedule for Thursday. Fortunately, that protocol isn't turned on yet.

If "scatterbrainery" isn't a word, it is now. It's the only thing that fits.

When I get home, I'll probably discover that even though I didn't turn on the iron this morning, I left it on, left the refrigerator open, and locked the cat in a closet.

Edit to add: Crud. I forgot to get something for dinner out of the freezer and put it in the fridge to thaw. Dang it. I'd say tonightis a pizza night, but the poor delivery guy would probably slip on the stairs or something and he never did anything to me.

Current Mood: confused confuzzled

3 Confessions or Confess Your Sins

Not only was I rushed this morning getting ready, but I left my badge at home. I can't get in from the parking garage by myself. I can't ride the elevators by myself. I can't get into the office by myself. Thank God the bathrooms aren't keyed to badges.

Did I mention I'm the designated escort for our two new, badgeless employees?

Was washing out tea cup and splooshed water all over the counter. Dropped lip liner while applying and got a lovely little mark on my shirt.

Oh yeah. The main set of keys to my locking wardrobe and file cabinets are on my badge. I do have a spare set. That is good because the way today is going, if I didn't, today I'd have 13 people need remote access tokens, which are secured in one of my locking cabinets.

All that and it is only 6:30 a.m. I wanna go home.

Current Mood: frustrated frustrated

Confess Your Sins
Or go veto, whichever you prefer.
3 Confessions or Confess Your Sins
Oh look. Cherry cobbler.
2 Confessions or Confess Your Sins
It's about damned time the English teachers started teaching again!!!

Yes, Virginia, grammar does matter.

I would also like to take a rather uncharacteristic moment to say "Up yours, you fuckwitted moron" to every "educator" who has espoused the verbal diarrhea "grammar inhibits writing and creativity." May the grammarians win and your ilk be run out of the schools.
13 Confessions or Confess Your Sins
Reposted from grail76's journal for my friends who aren't on his list.

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Confess Your Sins
1 Confession or Confess Your Sins