Archive for Work

French Polynesia – Chapter 1

{ March 14, 2009 @ 12:17 pm } · { Travel, Work }
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Tuesday morning started with as much nervous excitement and things to get done as I had anticipated.  I don’t understand why, but for me, packing never really comes together until the day I am leaving town.  Without a hitch Dad got me to the airport and I met up with my travel buddy.  I surfed the free wi-fi as butterflies fluttered in my stomach.  I am in horrible denial about one of my greatest fears.  The fear of flying.  It was never a problem until I had a son.  Now, when I sit in an airport, I think about a life for him without me and selfishly, never getting to see that precious face again.  

So as is tradition for me, as soon as I got settled in my seat, I began to pray and didn’t stop until we were in the air steadily.  That process repeated for every takeoff and landing.  To me the fear is worth it.  How can you see the best places on Earth if you don’t take a chance?  I am so good at playing it off.  No one around me would ever think that it bothered me, but those closest to me know.  

After an indeterminable amount of hours in the air and laying over, we landed in Papeete, Tahiti.  The thick humidity of 1:15am in the tropics seeped into the plane before we could disembark.  We were hoping to get through customs quickly and get to our hotel for a solid chunk of hours of some much needed rest.  The customs officials had other things in mind.  Apparently they figured that since they had to stay up late, we might as well have to as well.  An hour and a half into it, one sympathetic customs official saw the bleary eyed Americans waiting for the declaration line (2 bottles of wine) and took pity on us.

I was stoked once we reached our hotel.  It was tropical and gorgeous and I was wired from the realization that I was in a place my parents haven’t been.  (HA HA!)  :)  I logged onto the internet and found my beautiful sister on IM.  We talked for a bit then I tried to get some sleep.  Of course that didn’t happen.  So the next morning I got up and took a shower.  I then realized that there was a balcony off my room.  I swung open the drapes to the most beautiful view I had seen to that point.  I crumpled over in laughter as my eyes took in the beauty of the mountain side.  I threw on a robe and headed onto the balcony with my camera.  To my left was hillside Papeete; to my right, the ocean.  I quickly got ready for the day so I would have some solid time to photograph and write.

As 11am approached I put on my game face, seeing as I was the event coordinator.  I made my way down to the lobby and started introducing myself and taking hold of the situation.  We made it to the ferry to Moorea without incident and were on our way to the lush island.




What the French?

{ February 11, 2009 @ 5:41 pm } · { Travel, Work }
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france-french-flag-thumbThere couldn’t be a better title for this blog, and for those of you who are into Rock of Love Bus you get a special treat with the blog title.  

As you avid blog followers know, I started a new job in January.  In this new position I am working heavily with the French (and those who speak the language).   This has become quite the daily ordeal.  

In starting my job, I refused to buy into the stereotypes.  I told myself, “They really don’t look at Americans with disdain.” and “They aren’t difficult to work with.”  WRONG.  Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.  

Every week we have a conference call with a group of French collaborators.  The call typically starts with them chuckling at someone’s “lousy” attempt at “Bonjour” or some other French expression of greeting.  The call continues with their brush-offs of tasks assigned to them.  I know that ‘work’ is something that the French take seriously, but only in the most casual fashion.  I have learned that this is amplified by the fact that this group resides in a tropical nation. In fact, the only thing I have found that they take seriously is money.  

For the past two weeks, (and a good portion of the month before) I have spent an obscene amount of time chasing payments, inquiring about payments, and explaining payments.  Just today I had to calm a French Polynesian landlord who was threatening to evict an American researcher currently residing in one of his (or his mother’s) apartments. To all this, I would like to say, “What the French?”

I have no illusions that we Americans have our obnoxious quirks, but we are the country who created the 80 hour work week.  We hoard our money as well (and probably better) than any other nation of people.  We get it!  I am thinking more and more that learning a foreign language would greatly reduce the time I spend working while dramatically increasing my wages.

In less than 2 weeks I get to encounter these people first hand.  I can only speculate about the demands they will bring and the duties they will shirk when I am standing in front of them.

New

{ December 11, 2008 @ 9:03 am } · { Holidays, Life, Work }
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It’s that time of year again. The time of year when we say, “It’s that time of year again” and talk about the changes we are going to implement in our lives to make the upcoming year different. Usually we change for a week or a month then slide back into our old patterns. I am certainly guilty of it. So this year, right now, I am humbled by the changes that are occurring in my life that will truly make next year different.

You all know about my townhouse. Not our townhouse, my townhouse. It sounds so foreign to me. I have owned homes, but never on my own. It is thrilling and daunting at the same time. Talking with the inspector, I realized that no longer do I get to let someone else take care of the problems, I will have to do it myself. I can’t imagine the frustration and satisfaction this home is going to bring me, knowing that all of it – the good and the bad – will be completely mine.

Something you may or may not know about is the newest development in my life. Today I accepted an offer for a new job. This position is right up my alley. It will afford me the opportunity to travel, a dream of mine, and it will allow me to use my talents to benefit a project that is in need of them. I am incredibly excited about this opportunity and eager to get started. I will officially start the job on January 6th.

And finally, the biggest change. Neil and my divorce will be eligible to be decreed on December 31. The status that has defined us for the last 5 years will be no longer. We have never been single adults. We did the majority of our maturing into adulthood as parents and a married couple. I believe that we both have some maturing to do as single people. I have no idea what I am going to learn about myself in this process. I learned so much about myself in that marriage, it is hard to fathom what more I will learn. I am ready for it.

Neil and I have settled into a place that will surely lead to friendship once the dust has settled on this divorce. He is an incredible father and a great man. I appreciate the things we did and learned together. I am glad that he is not bitter over me ending it. He may never understand why, but he does understand that it was what I needed to do for me.

So with my current situation saturated in literalism, I am ready to enter the new year. I hope it is a year that I learn things about myself I never knew. I hope it is the year I learn to feel happiness rather than seek it. I hope that this year I touch peoples lives for the better. And finally, I hope that the new year inspires you to pursue the change you seek in your own life.

Happy (Early) New Year.

That Ain’t Right – Office Edition

{ December 9, 2008 @ 3:00 pm } · { That Ain't Right, Work }
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This afternoon Celeste and I decided that we needed a small timeout for art therapy. She deemed 3:30pm that time and seeing as she is working on a Masters degree in school psychology, I didn’t question her. For today’s art therapy session, Celeste and I decided to showcase our all important CCRP certification certificates. We are SO proud of them. However, we couldn’t help but notice how boring they are, so we decided to spice them up a bit. To really appreciate our masterpieces, you must pay careful attention to the details.

Celeste decided to add a fabulous teal border to her certificate. And see how the backward UK Wildcat so very nicely compliments the lion heading for an afternoon flower bush snack?

I decided to stay simple, omitting a border. If you look closely, you will notice that my lion is suffering gender identity issues; but that is okay, we love him just the same. Also, notice that my middle initial is no longer “G”. It is now “Wildcat”. That is right folks, Kathleen Wildcat Bugg, CCRP at your service. Grrr baby, grrr.

Man, Oh Man!

{ December 8, 2008 @ 2:44 pm } · { Life, That Ain't Right, Work }
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As usual, I flew into the public women’s restroom at MCC like a whirlwind to change out of my running clothes. I like to get in and out as quickly as possible because by that time, I am cold and hungry. I generally change in the handicap stall as it affords me the most room to fling my limbs about while wrestling with spandex and elastic.

I flung open the door to the bathroom and saw both stall doors open. Nobody in the bathroom, a simple observation. I quickly realized that my observation was wrong as I took the six pounding steps to the over sized stall. My eyes bulged and my jaw drop as a realized that there was a man – standing as men do, to use the toilet. I did a quick about face and pursed my lips as I began to make a beeline for the door to an area where it is appropriate for men and women to mingle together freely. He quickly came out of the stall and said, “No! No! You are in the right bathroom. They just had the men’s locked up.” I couldn’t respond with anything but a deep crimson blush as he hurried out of the bathroom.

Haven’t we all been tempted to use the other gender’s bathroom? Admittedly, this faux pas probably happens to women more than men, due to the anomaly known as the ever-present-line-for-the-women’s-restroom. But that is usually shrugged off with wink and a sweet giggle, for no woman that I know would ever dare cross the threshold to a men’s bathroom that has more than one stall. General rule of thumb, if you can’t lock yourself in alone, you wait in the godforsaken women’s restroom line no matter how much it hurts.

That is what gets me about this situation. Had he closed the stall door, I am sure I probably would have never known that it was a man. And even if I had had my suspicions, I would not have dared to check it out.

Suffice to say that I am slightly more than mildly creeped out. Insert shudder here —> _________

Creepy Crawly Type Of Week

{ October 15, 2008 @ 9:40 am } · { Life, Work }
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Yes, it is one of those weeks… a creepy, crawly, going-by-too-slow kind of week. And that’s pretty bad because my work week is a day shorter than most. It could be because I have been so tired. For example – this morning I woke up at 3am. It is pretty exhausting sharing a bed with a man who snores, talks in his sleep, steals the covers (and the majority of the bed), and randomly kicks from time to time. Don’t get me wrong, I love him more than anything; but this six year old is hell on my sleep cycle! Okay… so its only a minor complaint.

He and I have had a great week together, adjusting to our new routine. Thursday, he and I went to the grocery store then cooked enchiladas together for the two of us and Dad. Later that evening Redden learned the wonder and fun that is Uno. Saturday was a whirlwind of a day. My nieces spent part of the day with us. We went for a car ride then headed to the playground to play knights (er um, knight) and princesses. The evening we settled in for some dinner with Mom and Dad, a puzzle, a comedy and of course, more Uno.

Our Sunday was especially nice. He and I went house hunting (more to come on that), then went for some lunch and football at BW3’s. Below are some of the pictures my budding photographer took. It seems that currently I am his Muse, and I am so okay with that. :) Later that afternoon I took Redden to a friend’s house for some play time. It was a great day.

So I guess this blog got off topic, but really I was just trying to pass some time. And some time has passed. Not enough, but I’ll take what I can get. Here’s to the work week picking up some speed!

My People

{ October 9, 2008 @ 5:33 am } · { Life, Work }
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I came to a realization this morning. I don’t know if this phenomenon just began or if it has always been occurring and I have just been blissfully unaware. I realized this morning that I attract the socially awkward. Not attract in a romantic sense (although I could be unaware of that as well… I would like it to stay that way, thank you very much), I mean that they feel especially comfortable around me. Much as some women are faghags, I am the happy place for the misfit.

I first noticed it this morning when I stopped at Shell to get a much needed jumbo coffee. The clerk (male) was JAMMING to some Donna Summer, complete with the soulful dance moves and a falsetto that could make glass shudder in pain. The young man had clearly gone over the legal coffee limit. As I approached he said, “Well hey there!! How are we this morning??” He clearly felt in his element with me because he kept on dancing. Yes, this is the point that you say, “Katie, he was just a gay man, high on life!” Thing is, I am pretty sure he wasn’t gay. I know I don’t have a gaydar like Ari or Bradley BUT I do have one, and all I got was one Donna Summer lovin’, socially awkward, dude. So on I came to work, giggling to myself.

As some of you know, most of you don’t, I have been sick this week. I finally went to the doctor yesterday morning and discovered that I had the illness that loves me the most – Strep. I went home after that and got some rest. Anyway, back to this morning. I briefly mentioned a maintenance worker in my previous post, the one who gave me the stupid smile. Well apparently, I’m his new BFF. Every morning he stops in and chats me up. Today was no different. He came by and said, “Where’d you go yesterday?” So I told him I had been sick. All day he has been opening doors for me saying, “Well someone has to take care of you.” (Yes, I know it is slightly creepy. For whatever it is worth, I did tell him that my mom got me some soup, to which he replied, “Moms are good like that.”)

And then there are my “running” buddies. Every morning as I run to meet up with Beth and when I separate from her afterwards, two landscape guys – Chris and Larry, yell from wherever they are, “Hey Katie!!” If they are near me in their golf cart they swerve to pretend like they are going to hit me; and occasionally I will be out and about during the day, and they will see me and come say, “Hi!” then stand there without making conversation.

I know what it looks like, but it doesn’t just happen with men, so don’t go there! :) Socially awkward women gravitate towards me too. Granted it doesn’t happen as often (in my opinion because women are less likely to be socially awkward than men), yet still they flock. Don’t get me wrong, I am okay with this. You all know me, I am a lover of all people, weird and weirder. But I am curious, you all are my friends so I think you at least somewhat similar to me; do you find a certain type of person feels your tidal pull?

CCRP Baby!

{ October 7, 2008 @ 1:00 pm } · { Work }
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As most of you know, 3 weeks ago I took a test that was important for future raise and promotion opportunities in my current line of work. It was a grueling 3-4 hour exam and I left not knowing whether or not I would pass. Each day since then, I have been checking the mailbox at work, contemplating what an approval letter would look like. Would it be a large envelope or regular business size? Would the certifying organization show the credentialing on the front or wait to surprise me on the inside.

Today that letter showed up. It was a very ordinary envelope addressed to Kathleen G Bugg. There was nothing grand about it in size or thickness. A feeling of looming washed over me as I convinced myself that this was the, “We regret to inform you…” letter instead of the one I so wished to receive.

I slowly tore into as I became acutely aware of how long the hallway back to my office was. I did not want to read the bad news in the upright position. As I slumped down at my desk I pulled the letter out and began to read,

“Dear Mrs. Bugg,

You scored a passing grade of 84% on the recent Clinical Research Professional Certification Examination given on 9/16/2008…”

What? I gasped! I passed??? I passed!!! Immediately I jumped up from my desk, ran to my doorway, then ran back to my desk to send Beth an IM and to call my mom. I then ran out of my office to tell my boss, who I quickly realized would not grasp the relevance of this profound occasion. A maintenance man stared at me incredulously as I trotted up and down the hallway in a mild state of mania. I finally looked at him and said, “What? I’m happy!” He got a stupid grin on his face and continued to stare. I was not phased by his confusion – it was not his celebration and he was wearing a stupid hat (which I should take a picture of and post as a That Ain’t Right).

So ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to announce that I am now a CCRP (Certified Clinical Research Professional). Just call me Katie Bugg, CCRP.

Ewwww

{ October 2, 2008 @ 7:47 am } · { That Ain't Right, Work }
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Ewww… people are gross. For two years, I have worked in the same hallway, and for two years the level of nastiness people expose each other to makes my head spin. Redden just turned six (happy birthday little man!) (yeah thanks, you don’t have to point out the fact that he isn’t reading this) and he does not create the amount of filth that I have encountered here.

More specifically I am talking about the hallway bathroom. There are no patients in this hallway so we can quickly rule out the feeble cancer patient who can’t control themselves completely. (Although I am fairly sure that they do show more respect for common areas than the average employee of the cancer center.)Any given day I will walk in to urine on the toilet, floor, or wall. Seriously, one almost has to be trying to make that kind of mess. Other days I will walk in and it will look like the previous tenant spent a good 15 minutes combing their pubic hair. Still other days the fumes are so bad, Satan is sitting in the corner, taking notes on how to make more noxious brimstone.

If this is what people do at work, what may I ask do they do at home? Are their homes really immaculate and this is just where they come to let it all hang out? Or worse, does their house look and smell like work to the Nth degree?? EW!

Most days I walk in only to throw up my hands, mutter some expletives, and walk right back out to find a less toxic place to relieve myself. Currently, I am planning my passive aggressive counterattack. Any ideas?

I’m Still Here

{ September 11, 2008 @ 6:57 am } · { Blogging, Funny Redden Moments, Travel, Work }
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Hi everyone! I am still here; I promise. I have not abandoned you. It has been an incredibly hectic return from vacation, including Redden’s scary-weird-stumping illness, a pre-permanent, temporary work move, and an impending exam that will determine whether or not I get a raise. Details to come on all of it, as well as a lengthy beach vacation blog; however right now all I really have time to do is share a couple of funny Reddenisms.

1. The night before last I was giving Redden a bath. As I washed his hair, then his body he looked up at me and said, “Oh yeah, keep on scrubbin’ girl!” I laughed my ___ off, (leg people. I laughed my leg off.) then asked him where he had heard that, fearing that one of our R rated movies or prime time television had finally infiltrated his cartoon and chocolate milk world. He responded, “I didn’t hear it anywhere! I made it up.” Relieved that I had not prematurely scarred my child, I could laugh freely and brush it off as innocent commentary.

2. I must admit that when it comes to waking Redden up, my methods tend towards the ummm, shall I say, creative. This morning was no exception. As he pinched his eyes closed and tried to kick at my tickles, I decided I would resort to a more full contact method. I climbed on top of him and playfully wrestled my arms under his body and pulled him up. He laughed and then said, “Porcupines have quills.”
I replied, “Yeah, that was very smart of you!”
To which he replied, ” You’re a porcupine.”
I said, “What?!”
He said, “Quills are spiky and your legs are spiky so you are a porcupine.”
I laughed as I conceded. Today I am indeed a porcupine.
So I guess you shouldn’t scare me or get to close or you might get stuck!

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