Update from the Western Slope

I just learned that term. Western Slope. I'm a Western Sloper now!

With some time under my belt here, I can honestly say I really like it. I still bleed Lone Star State red, white, and blue, but I like it here. And it seems to like me, too. Even when the temperatures are in the triple-digits, I don't feel like it's that hot. Needless to say, I'm not missing the Texas humidity!

For the most part, then men are friendly, too. I've had a good bit of male attention, which is always nice! They're tall, too! I like tall. I like tall a lot. Nothing significant is going on, just a lot of nice, tall attention.

BF is still saying he'll move here. He also likes to talk to people about buying their houses, when he has no income. After awhile, a girl gets really tired of empty promises and of being the grown-up in the relationship. So, I'm not holding my breath.

Stay cool!
Blogget

So others may learn from my mistakes....

Do NOT ever, under any circumstances, consume an entire "family size" box of jalapeno and cream cheese Poppers all by yourself. At once.

The gastronomical indignities are just not worth it.

And that's coming from someone with no one around to be humiliated in front of.

Mixed bag of Mother's Day

Mother's Day 2007.

Sucks.

Of course, it came as no surprise tht I would be alone on Mother's Day this year. I decided to make it one of those rare days when a mom gets to do only what she wants to do. I thought that would take the edge off of not actually being with my kids today. I miss them so much....

So, I rented a slew of movies that I'd wanted to see for some time, but hadn't gotten around to seeing. I picked out ones with boxes that said things like "heartwarming!", "charming!", "a great date movie!" I bought junk food that I usually don't eat and that I usually have to share when I have it at home. Today, I've had Pop Tarts, Jalapeno Poppers, and fresh chocolate chip cookies.

The food was better than the movies, so far. I just had to give it a rest before my toe ended up in the trigger. "A great date movie," my keister. I just wasted two hours watching two people torture each other in the name of love, and STILL didn't end up together. Where's my tidy, romantic, "heartwarming" and "charming" ending? If I want to experience a heart getting ripped out, I'll think more about BF....

To make matters worse, I'm having some trouble with my son lately. He's knee-deep in teenage angst. Unfortunately, this move has compounded that problem and given him something to angst about. He's decided to punish me whenever he can. He tries to hurt me. Today, he succeeded.

My daughter called this morning to wish me a happy Mother's Day. We chatted and she told me her brother was up, but not doing anything. He even picked up the extension while she was talking, but he said nothing. Mid-afternoon, my phone rings. It's my son, from his cell phone, and I can hear his dad in the background.

He muttered something that sounded vaguely like "hammy murray." I hear his dad's voice again. He speaks up. "Happy Mother's Day." We exchange a little "how are you?" "what are you doing?" I tell him it's a hard Mother's Day. He laughs at something his dad does. "I love you," I say. He grudgingly says it back. And that's it. His dad made him call and he's done.

Yeah, I needed help knowing what it was like to get my heart ripped out today.

So, I hung up the phone and cried.

While I'm sobbing, my phone rings again. I see it's my own mother. I clear up the cry voice and answer it. She just wanted to know how I was doing. On some level, she felt the ripple in the Mom-Force and knew I needed her. And there you have it - the good, the bad, and the ugly of motherhood.

Sometimes, it's a really good thing I don't drink.

Colorado lonely....

I'm in Colorado! I've been on the job for a whole week and my plate is already unbelievably full!

I have a cute little apartment. I'm working on getting a house. I don't have a "real" office yet because it's not ready. So, I'm sharing an office right now. That kinda sucks. I'm way too territorial to do this for long! Especially when I'm coming into someone else's territory. She has been nice and cleared a couple of shelves for me to use, but - at the risk of sounding a little snotty - I'm Administration, for pete's sake. If the people I have to work with are going to take me seriously, I have to have more than someone else's corner and a couple of shelves!

It's absolutely gorgeous here! The weather has been lovely! Here's a pic of one of the mountain ranges that surrounds the town. The thing is that I'm a little lonely. For now, I'm on my own here. Do you know how long it's been since I've been totally on my own, with no family or friends in sight? NEVER. I went from high school, to college in the same town, to getting married, to moving with my own family, to returning home....and by that time, I had children and would never be alone again.

Until now. Until summer, I'm a stranger in a strange world. I'm making my way around, but it feels so odd, so disconnected. I found Wal-mart, Target, the mall, Barnes & Noble, and Borders. I got lost and ended up in a remote, but pretty, part of town. Heck, I haven't found an ugly part of town yet!

And that includes the men! The ones in my age range are generally rugged and TALL. Gotta love that!

I hear some of you making noises, though. "What about BF?!" Yeah, that's a good question. Here's the thing about BF. Every time he's left on his own, he ends up trying to cheat on me or actually doing it. He takes up drinking, smoking, and carousing. Every. Single. Time. He says he'll make his way here...eventually. None of that sounds promising to me...does it to you? Already, I'm getting one-word emails and he stops answering his phone at night. Hmmm....

I'm not sitting around, feeling sad and lonely and obsessing about what he's up to. That's pure torture. If he actually comes up here, then he's turned over a new leaf and left all that behind. We'll see and we'll work with that. I'm not wasting my life, in the meantime.

TTYL, diary.

-- Blogget

A lighter interlude....

On a lighter note, start looking for R2D2 mailboxes in your neighborhood! Check it out:

http://www.theforce.net/latestnews/story/R2D2_Mailboxes_Confirm_Rumors_104142.asp

Isn't he cuuuute?!?! May the USPS be with you! Always!

Home run!

If I can find good housing, then I'm officially headed to location #2 -- Grand Junction, Colorado. They matched the first offer. The community is better. The job is a better advance for my career.

Hopefully, it'll be official soon and I can give notice to my boss here. Watch for the mushroom cloud...he's gonna freak. The entirety of our new system resides in my brain. I don't know who will receive the brain-dump, but they better brace themselves!

In Grand Junction, I'll be the coordinator of their program. That's a big step. I hope I keep hitting home runs all the way....

How do you hit two pitches at once?

(to continue the theme of America's pasttime....)

Last week about killed me. Interviews Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Then, hop a plane on Wednesday and have more interviews Thursday and Friday. It's hard to be "on" for four days! I'm exhausted!

Yesterday, I get an offer from the first set of interviews. Not bad, but I'd rather live in the second location. So, I call them and let them know an offer has been made. They're supposed to call with their offer by the end of the day. That's coming fairly soon.... I hate waiting! I was not built for patience!

So, stay tuned....

Strike One....

Long story short, I'm not moving to Louisiana.

I got the call yesterday. He wanted to let me know in person, instead of letting a form letter break the news. Get this -- they hired from within. They advertised nationally, brought in candidates at great expense, then hired someone who has been there 18 years. So, how committed are they to innovative change? Apparently, not much.

That's not me being bitter, though! That's from their own people, who told me they know the person being hired for the job and doubt she's has the stuff to handle the job. I feel bad for them, if that's true. They're good people and deserve better.

He did say that I was "very impressive" and "very competitve," and it was a hard decision. Sounded like I was the less economical choice, actually. He asked if I'd be open to "future opportunities" with them. I said sure, why not. I can always give them a listen.

So, I have interviews #2 and #3 next week. If it's meant to be, we'll find out. Otherwise, I'm not so miserable where I am.

TTFN!
Blogget

Big ol' jet airliner....

During five days in March, I'll fly three different airlines and have two job interviews. The phone interview moved me to Round Two -- a face-to-face interview, just two days after another interview.

The interview I had last week went really well. Now, we wait. They are due to make a decision the week before these other two interviews happen. So, if an offer is going to come my way, I need them to drag their feet by a week or two!

Here's the breakdown:
Position #1: At a more prestigious university, potentially the greatest pay (but realistically, comparable to Position #2's salary), cost of living virtualy the same, comfortable winters (little to no snow), sweltering summers. The position oversees an team within a department, focused on my area of expertise. I know many people there. Everyone I met was friendly. Larger city, lovely area with lots of trees and water. This department definitely "courted" me, with a nice hotel, nice meals, and tours of the city.

Position #2: Small college in a small town. Great pay (comparable to #1), but higher cost of living. Desert envisonment, but with frigid winters (sometimes -18) and comfortable summers. The position oversees an entire division, with my area of expertise being only one component. This one has The Title, and is in administration. So far, the people I've dealt with have bordered on rude, and indifferent, at best. They've done some things that didn't make sense -- like scheduling me for a 12:00 lunch and a 1:00 flight out. However, they are arranging for a real estate agent to show me around town. I'm staying at the Holiday Inn Express.

Position #3: Small college in a small town, but a little larger than #2's site. Beautiful area, in the mountains. High cost of living, offering the lowest pay of the three. It would be a $10,000-$20,000 improvement over my current salary (while the others are $30,000 over my current salary) -- without figuring the cost of living difference. That would make their best offer amount to a $10,000 improvement. Can I move so far away for that? The climate is cold and snowy in the winters (but not -18!) and comfortable in the summer. The position would be to pretty much tell them what they should be doing. They've been floundering with this program for three years and now recognize the need for an expert to direct them. I'm staying at the Doubletree Hotel.

Best case scenario is that I get three offers. Worst case is that I get none. I wasn't looking to move, so that's okay. I don't have to take any of them, but would like to! I guess we wait until March and see what's what. Dang, I hate waiting!

In the meantime, I play the guessing game and decide how I would rank all the options. Then, how I would sell it to my kids. And how I'd tell my ex that we're going far away.....not that he hasn't done that himself before, but that's another issue.

TTYL!
Blogget

It's a Grand Slam!

And application number three has now weighed wanted to set up a phone interview for Monday -- which is when I'm on the first interview in Lousiana. So, we're setting up an alternate time. This one is in Colorado, but a prettier area than the other one. The town is a little bigger, so there are better medical options, too. The pay is less, though.

But I'm ahead of myself. No one has made an offer. I'm completely suited for each position, but I don't know the competition, either. So, we'll see.....

I still have the swollen cheek, but not as bad. Hurts like fire, though. I have a "procedure" for it, the day after my interview in Louisiana. Yippee! (is the sarcasm coming through?) What timing this all had!

More later.....

:o) Blogget

The Second Pitch

So, I make a habit of checking my junk email before deleting the folder. It's a pain, but it keeps dreadful things from happening....like missing an important email. Like I would have today.

"Dear Blogget, our search committee would like to set up an interview with you...."

Yesterday, I was on about Louisiana. Today, I'm on about Colorado. Alamosa, Colorado. A smaller college there would like to see me about a job.

I sent out three applications. One went to Louisiana and two to Colorado. Now, I need to hear from the third college and I'll have a grand slam!

I've been to Colorado a lot, but not to Alamosa. I looked up some information about them today. Currently, it is a balmy -18°F there. The average high in winter is 14°F. July and August are the only frost-free months. No more First Freeze contests on the evening news! The summers sound fantastic, though. Average is 65°F. Gotta love that!

But can I tolerate an average temperature of 14°? I suppose I'll find out how much I like it soon enough!

Stay Warm!

--- Blogget

When is it time to go?

I'm sooooo not getting anything of consequence done today. Well, work-related, that is.

Louisiana has come knocking. They're the ones who approached me about the job at the conference. I've been back and forth with them today, making travel arrangements. They are paying airfare, car rental, hotel, and meals for me to go visit them for a day-long interview. I'm going shopping for interview outfits, to make me look the part of She Who Knows What She's Talking About. I mean, I *do* know what I'm talking about....I just have to make sure I look not only like an Expert, but also like the Expert They Want!

I just have to lose this chipmunk cheek in a few days. No, I don't mean hitting the gym! I've managed to come down with stones in my salivary gland. OUCH! Hydrocodone pills and lemon drops are my friends lately. Such bad timing. Go away, go away, go away....

So, I've found a nice realtor to show me around Baton Rouge for a day. The housing market looks doable for us. I just don't know anything about the city. What's where? What areas are family-friendly? And I'll say this flat-out, even though it isn't politically correct.... what areas of the city are *white* family-friendly?

I mean, let's be honest here. Some parts of a city that size are not receptive to those in the fairer spectrum of skin color. I need to know which schools are safest for my kids, who are about as fair-skinned and naive as they come. This move would be a MAJOR change for us. All things must be positive. If my kids end up threatened, not accepted because they are the wrong color, this will be a huge mistake for them.

Don't get me wrong here. I know some of you out there are saying, "Yeah, Blogget, we read between the lines here. You want a white neighborhood. You racist." Not so. I'm anything but a racist. I don't care what "race" the neighborhood is. My criteria are:

I want a safe neighborhood.
I want a house that isn't going to need a lot of upkeep (in other words, no money pits!).
I want schools that challenge my kids academically and prepare them for college, but also give them the extracurricular outlets they need.

I need to get to know Baton Rouge and how my family would fit into it. I might not be offered the job, but I like to be prepared. If you know anything about Baton Rouge, drop me a line!

And speaking of safe neighborhoods....my current one is becoming less so. I was out of town recently and my mother drove my car. I have two remotes for locking/unlocking. On cold mornings, I start the car with one key and depfrost the windows, but I lock it with the other key. No sense leaving a running, unlocked car in the driveway.

My mother doesn't think this way.

She left it unlocked and went back in the house for a moment. In that time, three things disappeared from my car. My sunglasses clip, the auxillary device cord, and -- this one hurts -- my motion-sensitive C3PO. He hollers things like "We're doomed!" when you accelerate and such. Nine different phrases. Absolutely hysterical. The theives ripped him off the dashboard Velcro and made off with my little 3PO, too. My mother feels awful. I'm lucky to have a car at all, I suppose.

They left behind my Minnie Mouse antenna ball, fluffy stuffed tiger, and bright green mirror nice. BF says that means it was a techie-dork guy who doesn't have a girlfriend.

This morning, I found a lottery ticket carefully folded and placed on our trailer in the driveway. Someone wants us to know they were there. Creepy.

Maybe it *is* time to move....

Neglect

I'm a bad, bad blogger. I've been neglectful. There's no other word for it. So, I'll make one big post to cover the latest news.

The Mississippi trip

Graceland was surprisingly interesting. I've never been a big Elvis fan, but I recognize the man's talent and contribution to the music world. His life was complicated, his death tragic. His home is a testament to that. I was surprised how accessible it appears. The wall around it isn't formidable. You can see most of the estate from the street. The meditation garden where he is buried was something he built as a place of peace, I'm sure never intending for it to be his final resting place I took the photo at the right in the meditation garden, with a lovely little light anomaly to the right of the Christ's arm.

I heard a few people comment on how "tacky" much of the decor was. To me, it epitomizes the 1970s. That decade defined tacky. The decor they are talking about is representative of the times. I mean, he died in 1977, when that style was in full swing. Lighten up on the King!

We also visited another home of the famous. Rowan Oak was the home of writer William Faulkner, until his death in 1962. It's beautiful and fascinating. You can still see where he wrote the plotline for his Nobel Prize-winning A Fable...on the wall. See?


Rowan Oak is in Oxford, MS, which is a lovely college town. We spent a lot of time at the town square, where I met this helpful employee of the Square Books store.

She didn't think I really needed more CDs. She also told me the most disappointing news -- I'd missed the chance to meet Paula Dean at the same store, just the previous evening. Dang.

If you're ever in a town called Tunica, in Mississippi, be sure to visit the ladies of Ann-Tiques on Main Street. They are a force of southern hospitality and that shop is packed with treasures! Thanks for the books, ladies! (1251 Place is next door, but they are too expensive on everything but football scores.) And yes, it really is Main Street USA there, complete with a gazebo and a Piggly Wiggly. But beware of Johnny Law (see right) or he might use that one bullet he's allowed to carry.

I also learned all about the Delta blues at the museum by the same name in Clarksdale, MS, and a Morgan Freeman's blues club called Ground Zero. Dang, that's a great place. Great music, too. Pick up some genuine soul food at Hick's restaurant before you go, though.

This trip was an education in more ways than one. Yeah, there was a conference at the center of it and I loved that, too. There's a couple of men I enjoy flirting around with each year, and I got to spend some time with them. One of them had the good sense to wear Guinness shirts and drink Newcastle. Whata guy.

Oh yeah, and I learned alot of good professional type stuff, too. Being a conference and all. I was even approached about a job. See, someone out there thinks I'm a bad ass at my job. They want me to be a bad ass for their university. We'll see if they have a bad ass paycheck to make me move far away from what's been home for nearly 30 years. So stay tuned.

Okay, there's some news. I'll update more later.

--- Blogget

Back from the land of the Delta Blues

I'll write more on my most recent trip later, when I get pictures posted. I've lost a few because of corrupted files on my media card, so I'm working on that problem.

However, I had one particular observation that has nagged at me since getting home. First, though, you gotta understand that I'm not a gambler by nature. I echo the sentiments of one of my fellow travelers on this trip. She stood at several locations inside the casinos and said, " I don't understand! Why would anyone bet on that?" She's not a gambler, either.

The place where we stayed was part of a casino resort. To get to our hotel (one of three larger hotels on the property), you took an exit off the higheay and drove a looooonnnggg time. Past golf courses and undeveloped land. This place wanted to be sure that going elsewhere wasn't so easy.

They also didn't want you to stay in your room. No desk. Internet was $11 a day. No business center, either in the hotel or the adjoining conference center. Gambling terminals were strategically placed, but no computers to be seen anywhere. The only restaurants were tucked deep inside the big casino.

Going through the casino to get to dinner, you couldn't help but feel the party atmosphere. People laughing, cheering, sipping on cocktails, and having a good time. We'd walk past an empty table and the dealer (or whoever presided) sounded almost like a carney trying to draw you to the game with, "Oh, ladies, ladies, ladies!" You knew most of the guests were losing money, but they seem to have come with the assumption that it was all part of the fun.

Another night, another dinner, another casino. They trucked us to a difference casino complex, but this one sits along the highway. The difference to me was startling. No party atmosphere. I've heard the phrase "smell of desperation" before, but never experienced it. The phrase doesn't do justice to the horror of it. Many of the people sitting at the slots looked like they lived there, in the same clothes, all the time. They looked at you with these haunted eyes, defeated and desperate. There was no fun in their game-playing.

Scared the hell out of me. No, I'm not a gambler. And after that experience, I doubt I ever could be. I won't forget those eyes anytime soon.

This might make me sound terrible....

I consider myself to be a fairly tolerant, non-judgemental kind of person to know. Wait, let me qualify that. I have very clear ideas of what I like and dislike for myself and those most close to me. However, I won't turn my back on someone or not socialize with someone just because they chose that path. Make sense?

For instance, I don't believe in getting tattoos. For me. But I don't care if someone else has one. I don't like "my" men to have earrings. I find that very unattractive But I don't care if a guy I'm not interested in has an earring. Or two. I have gay friends, straight friends, old friends, young friends, pretty friends, ugly friends, smart friends, dim friends, and friends of various religions. I generally just let people be as they are.

So, BF tells me that there's a couple he knows who wants to hang out with us. That's cool by me. This girl likes to talk about her sex life a little too much, but I can tolerate that occasionally. I've not met her botfriend, though. BF says he's a little "out there," so I'm warned.

I finally meet the guy and....goodness gracious me, that fella has more hardware in his face than an astromech droid. I found myself almost unable to focus on what he was saying. I was so absolutely repelled by it that the subsequent humming in my head blocked out normal thought.

Which explains why, when I looked at his girlfriend, I couldn't stop thoughts of, "You have sex with THAT?!" Unfathomable.

Yeah, yeah, I know....different strokes and all. I just was completely unprepared for the profound revulsion I felt. That's never happened to me before. Especially over something that I considered as trivial as physical appearance.

So, it delivered no small amount of guilt, too. Am I really so narrow-minded, at the core of it all? I never considered myself as such and would rather not do so now!

V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!

Lookie what I have in my office:



The Fishbowl Wars are over! No more threats of window markers and taped up photos of blinds. No more idiots tapping on the glass or Nosey Nellies watching us work.

We are triumphant!

"A little less conversation, a little more action please...."

And with that, my business trip next week gets more interesting.

No, it's not what you think. I'm not getting "a little more action please." I am going to see the King. Yessirree, this rock chick is headed to Graceland.

I'm headed to Mississippi by way of Memphis, with 5 colleagues. For one of them, it'll be her third "pilgrimage" to Elvis's home. For another, it's her first and she plans to do it up right! The rest of us are along for the ride.

So, the place has gotten lousy with merchandising and licensing agreements gone bananas (fried? in a sandwich?). I go prepared to embrace the tourist within. Maybe I can find Elvis guitar picks for my son. Maybe some kitchy purse for my daughter, made out of blue suede. My mom's birthday is coming, so I see Elvis-isms in her future, too. I'll just spread the tourist joy to everyone!

I have to admit, I look forward to seeing Elvis's final resting place. There's something almost alluring to me about gravesites. If I ever make it to Hollywood for a vacation, you can bet I'll be on each one of those creepy graveyard tours. If I couldn't meet these people in life, then it's something to stand where they have finally found peace. Well....what peace you can find with kitchy tourists coming to see where you eternally slumber.... Sorry, but I'll be one of them!

Now, I also have every intention of heading out with one colleague for the Civil Rights Tour or Blues Music Tour. Somehow, I think the level of kitch in those experiences will pale in comparison to the King's licensing machine.

Wish me luck!

I'm officially insane

Yep, I got the notification just the other day. I'm officially a doctoral student. Walden University. Ph.D. of Education, specializing in Educational Technology. Woo Hoo!

No money. No sleep. For years. But at the end, I'm Dr. Blogget.

Yeah, I like that.

My addition to the wealth of memories

Today is a day of remembrance. All day, everywhere we turn, we see the images and hear the stories of that day, five years ago. This little blog will be no different. For me, it's important to remember and to make a record.

I know what I was doing exactly five years ago, right at this time. I was finally tucking in my children, emotionally exhausted and feeling a little shell-shocked from the day. That's how days that change the world feel.

My son was on the cusp of a milestone - his tenth birthday. September 12th, 2001. We had a big birthday party planned for the following Saturday. As I tucked him in, he said the most astounding thing I'd ever heard from a little boy.

"Mommy, I was thinking. Can we change my birthday? This isn't a time for people to be thinking of me."

I hugged him with all the pride I could have for this wonderful child. His tenth birthday. It would only happen once. But even he felt the magnitude of the day's events. He would wait while the world mourned. And he never complained. Later, I bought a book to keep for him: "September 12, 2001: The Day We Knew Everything Would Be All Right."

I called his friends' mothers and postponed everything a week. Everyone understood, and we had a great party the next week.

On his actual birthday, we had a family celebration. In the midst of the festivities, I didn't notice that the restaurant's televisions were playing the horrible pictures again. My little daughter, just 6, pulled at my sleeve. Her eyes transfixed on the screen, she quietly asked, "It's not happening again, is it?" I held her and let her know it wasn't a new attack. We were safe, and I moved her to a seat away from the television.

September 11, 2001 was dominated by shock, sadness, and overwhelming resentment for me. I know it sounds petty and selfish, in the face of much greater loss, but I resented the loss of that part of my children's innocence. I resented explaining to a 6-year-old little girl what "terrorist" and "hijacking" meant, and how some people have such hate that they cease caring about living, breathing beings.

I hated the moment when my children asked me, "Were there kids on those planes?" And the looks on their little faces when I had to say, "Yes." "And mommies and daddies?" they said. "Yes," I said. The resentment was not for their questions, but for those who made the questions possible.

I didn't allow the television on until we had talked about the images they would inevitably see. I knew I couldn't hide it forever. This had changed their world forever. If I didn't talk about it, someone else would.

In the aftermath, I noticed the polarity in the reactions. Among the people in my sphere, the men wanted to rush to war, to exact revenge. The women wanted to gather their loved ones close and stay behind the bolted doors of home. We all lost a bit of innocence, I suppose.

In the midst, though, was the beacon that was my son. Love and hope for another, better day survived in his heart. Thank God for small favors.

Should I be upset?

Or, should I be as upset as I am?

I've been at my job for three and a half years. In that time, I've not only performed my basic editor duties smashingly, but I've also taken on a lot more. I've finished a Master's degree in distance education. I have a particular expertise in online delivery of distance learning. I've overseen a major migration from one platform to a new, cutting-edge one. That included some temporary supervisory duties, even. I've become a researcher in our field, too, representing our organization and presenting several sessions at national and international conferences.

However, I'm still in the same position I started in, at much the same salary.

Two years ago, a new guy was hired to handle some of the red-tape stuff we deal with. He's well-suited for it. He's a retired administrator of a continuing ed program at a junior college in another state. He has handled personnel, contracts, and red tape before.

For my boss, this was a big plus because she hates dealing with people. On the phone. In person. And especially any potentially confrontational situations.

A couple of months ago, she asked me if I objected to him moving into a new position she was creating. After all, I am the most senior of the editors. He would be overseeing the non-electronic courses and faculty, dealing with more of the red tape and people issues she didn't want to handle. I didn't object. That's not where my expertise is. However, she promised to look for advancement opportunities for me.

The other day, she reminds us editors that he's moving into that position now. And she added this:

"I've decided that he'll supervise the editors, too, so you all report to him now."

WTF?! He's my SUPERVISOR now?! This was NOT part of the "Do you object..." conversation! This chaps my hide in a major way.

I see how this happened, though. He is well-suited for the parts of her job that she dislikes. She's just found a way to dump all of the people-dealing on someone else. That's her agenda in this situation.

What gets me is that I've busted my tail for longer than he has, and I've had NO (count 'em - NO) opportunities for advancement. And he's now my supervisor.

But should I be upset? He has decades of experience in this. I didn't want the position; I just didn't expect to get a third boss out of it.

Where are my opportunities? When does my hard work pay off? She has taken care of her own agenda along the way. I don't know that my interests are being kept in mind at all.

What rubs salt in the wound is that the very next day, I'm given even more responsibilities. I now monitor and mentor our online faculty. Also, new online course development is now entirely in my lap. I decide how it's done.

For that, I get a "Gee, thanks for doing that" (like there's a choice). Not a promotion. Not a pay raise. He's already receiving retirement benefits from his old job, his wife works, and they don't have kids to support. I'm a single mom with two kids, not making enough to support them without help. It just doesn't seem fair.

Personally, I think the writing is on the wall. She'll take care of her own convenience. My interests are my own to look out for. Maybe it's time to look around at other opportunities. I do love what I do, but other places do it, too. I don't want to move, but I have other things to consider. And maybe it's time for that doctorate. Oh bring on the torture!