Showing posts with label personality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personality. Show all posts

Monday, December 11, 2017

Diversity Happens




            I can remember working for one company in which two part-time employees shared a desk.  Marilyn preferred having a mat on the floor in order to easily slide her chair under her desk, but Connie was in a wheel chair; it also slipped on the mat, but not in a positive way.  She did not want the mat anywhere near the desk.

            Two different people.  Two different needs.  And who's to say either one of them may be wrong.  It is only one example of one size does not fit all.



            I had watched an interview once in which the interviewer discovered that Kelly Clarkson hides her trophies - or at least kept them away from public display. I can't find the reference however, but I remember thinking "Good for her." 
           I learned that my school will e-mail the Dean's List but send the President's List through the mail.   I wish they would just send them all through e-mail and save the paper;  If I truly want to frame or put in book or whatever, I can print my own.  I believe Roland would like to frame all of his.
           Yesterday he bought matching frames for his diplomas and his acceptance of Alpha Capa something.  Some people display their awards and diplomas and so forth as a way to say, "Look at me.  Look how good I am." Some people need that validation.  Others have struggled and are proud of what they've accomplished.  Then there's me - "I think I have it in a drawer somewhere?" Whatever.



            I have been forgetting things - more than usual.  It has bothered me that it happens more frequently than it used to.  Roland suggested that perhaps I'm not getting enough sleep.  That's acceptable.  He thinks I should lay down flat.  That will NOT make me sleep better.  I will lose more sleep trying to get  comfortable.  Roland says we both need to lose weight.  I agree.  But I don't think being thinner will help me to sleep flat.

            He likes the room warm like we're sleeping in an oven.  I would rather have it be refrigerator temperature.  He would like the opportunity of receiving a DNA kit and sending in his sample to get results.  I don't care who I'm related to or where I am from.  What possible difference will it make for me to know that?  That's a lot of money to spend. 


           I was going to send off for a kit to give him at Christmas, but even the least expensive one I can find still adds up to over 70 dollars by the time postage and handling  fixed into the price.  No. no. no.  Maybe later on down the road when we have more money and the price has gone down again.

            I can watch a movie by myself.  Often I prefer it.  It is easier to understand what is going on without verbal interruptions from a party NOT on the screen.  Roland insists on having my presence and has actually watched tons of movies that he wouldn't normally (and vice versa) just to be with me - which is flattering. But sometimes I would rather read a book - or blog or write letters.   I don't want to spread myself too thin that he feels ignored. Watching movies is  not a priority for me.  Sometimes I do have other obligations.


            Roland always seems to be in a hurry - whether by foot or by car.  I like to mingle and visit.  I don't enjoy driving fast.  I have always made my own slow lane.  He enjoys dressing up.  I used to, but have changed to casual and comfortable.  I prefer being prepared.  He seems to prefer putting things off.

            Two different people.  Who's to say either one of them may be wrong.  It is only one example of one size does not fit all. Two people may look at the same tree but each may see it in a different way.


Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Too Many Words for a Discussion Post




            Yesterday I started two new classes in addition to a grant class I'm taking for the library.  The two classes I'm taking currently delve into personality.  I have a feeling my head will fill faster than my fingers will be able to keep up. I've taken intelligence quizzes before - even before I started taking classes online.  I see the growth in my answers.  The instructor made the suggestion to look at where we were ten years ago and where we are now emotionally.  This is what I've written - but feel that it's too long for the discussion.  Even if I reference myself, I don't have anything to put in APA form as a reference.  So I'm posting it here - although you may have read it all before.

            Ten years ago I walked with my three year old daughter to the school.  We took many walks around not only our neighborhood but my mom's neighborhood as well.  Jenna was enthusiastic and eager.  I loved seeing the world through her eyes.  I'd often volunteer assisting in her pre-school classroom.  I needed her. I needed her radiance.

            I did fine with her one-on-one, but was often an uptight individual around other family members.  Roland had two other girls whom he was suppose to have visitations with every other weekend.  I was tense whenever they were there - nothing against the girls themselves, but rather their psychopathic mother that made my uptightness feel as light as whipping cream.  I would cringe at the very idea of her existence.  I was happy if I just focus on Jenna but not happy overall - if that even makes any sense.



            I've been married for over 16 years now.  During that time I have lived in four different houses.  We saw the girls (occasionally) when we lived in the first house. Two of our boys had to leave whenever they came.  That wasn't right.  I was angry and I was sad.



            We moved to our second house when our two youngest were out serving missions.  The economy (along with Roland's ex) had been unkind to us.  We were there when Jenna finished kindergarten up until the 5th grade. We  would walk around the neighborhood, to the bus stop and to the school. I had encountered many sinus infections and dizziness while living in our second house.  I blamed the low ceilings. I tried to be happy but wasn't really.  All three of the boys married while we were living in our second house.



            Our third house was a rental in Oregon.  It seemed to have better ventilation than our Utah houses did - more windows, higher ceilings.  My breathing was better.  There's very little in the way of traffic here.  Don't see or hear about crime in the county as we did living in Salt Lake. Jenna and I would go for walks around the surrounding neighborhoods.  I was a much happier person than I had been in Utah. I miss my Utah family members.  There are always pros and cons.



            We are now in the forth house since being married.  I started taking online classes shortly after our last move.  Jenna is now a teenager.  We take walks around the park.  We talk about subjects that we take in school.  Still miss my family and public transportation, but overall I am in better control of my emotions - I think.  I am healthier - therefore happier (or maybe it's the other way around?) and I like who I am - which hasn't been the case for a really long time. 

            The air has been cleaner.  The weather more consistent.  I am discovering myself through many of the classes that I have been taking.  For me personally, that means more than any degree I may obtain or job I can find. 

            I believe I will have more to add as the weeks go by, but don't know how often I'll make the time to post to my blog as I should really be focusing on my classes first.  I still have to create two discussion posts (well, maybe just one and a half as I did start one yesterday, but have not completed or posted)  still trying to figure out how to connect the words I do have . . .  

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

I Wasn't Nominated . . but Here you are . . .

I used to spend more times reading others' blogs.  After we moved to Oregon, the time I spend reading blogs has diminished.  Once in a while I will go through a certain post.  After reading some of Mrs. Pepper's posts, I decided to take a challenge/invite that she had created for certain bloggers.  But I'm guessing she also has a bigger following than I do.  Many of my readers don't have their own blogs.  So here are my answers :

1. If you could have chosen your own name, would it be the same one you have?  no. My mom has ALWAYS Loved my name.  I got to the point where I tolerated it.  But it's still not my favorite.
I chose LaTiesha Cannon as my blog name.  But I really do like name that starts with J: Jenna, Julie, Jaime, Jennifer . . . probably Jenna or Jamie.

2. What is your favorite song? It varies from time to time.  There is such a large variety of songs that I really like.  I don't know if I could in good conscience choose a favorite. Recently I discovered this one by Jars of Clay




3. Can you play any musical instruments? What? I can play the stereo

4
. Do you have a favorite go to recipe for busy days? Roland cooks, I reheat.  It's more convenient to eat leftovers than to make something brand new.

5.
Would you hang windchimes on your porch? I hung the windchimes that my daughter made.  I often like hearing windchimes - but not always.

6. What is your favorite flower? Merrigold




7.
What is your idea of a perfect weekend?  outdoor bbq with family and talking walks and playing games.

8. Do you go to see movies or wait until they're on TV? I'm cheap.  Usually wait until there on TV, except for once a month (sometimes) we can see a show for free when we meet with the senior group who support the food bank.

9. Do you enjoy sports? Not really.  I've never been very athletic or coordinated.  Always being picked last (or close to last) hasn't helped my attitude towards sports.  I prefer board games or family party games.

10. What's your favorite outdoor activity? I think walking and enjoying nature.  I also enjoy reading outdoors with the natural sunlight



Friday, February 10, 2017

Quality Customer Service?  A thing of the past






          I'm actually quite impressed with Roland's phone skills.  I got rid of cable as we were paying outrageous amounts each month.  We have been able to pick up six stations with an antenna we purchased, but there was a day when I'm assuming the weather had interfered and we were only down to two.



          As mentioned previously, Jenna and I could live without the TV or cable.   We watch it because it's there, but would not miss it if it wasn't.  But Roland likes having the TV and had called another company to see how much cable would run.



          So our internet was with Charter.  We NEED the Internet.  Roland works from home online.  We both go to school online.  We need the Internet.  We do not need the cable.  Nevertheless, Roland found a great deal in which Frontier promised a cable and Internet package for the same amount that we were paying Charter for Internet only.  The first call placed was answered by a young guy from California who was living in Salt Lake.



          Why the heck would we be calling Salt Lake?  I had never even heard of Frontier until we got to Oregon.  The guy was friendly and after the information was exchange, we got a little personal (which I know is how he's from California) and he told us some jokes before he hung up.



          Our cable contract is through Dish and NOT Frontier.  And of course we are locked into it now because apparently Roland's electronic signature proves that.  The cable box was sent - but Roland wasn't sure how to connect it.  Someone came out to connect it and we had a SLOW connection.  Not even 12 full hours. Fortunately we had not cancelled Charter.

  

          I don't know how many times Roland has been on the phone with Frontier - asking employees for their first and last name and employee identification (because thus far none of the employees have been willing to give his or her last name - which I don't blame them.  Most have been good to give their employee number - or a number anyway (how do we really know) as Roland explains for the umpteenth time that "I need this for work . . . I was very clear about that from the beginning"  He always tells the employees to make notes on file and asks for the supervisor and that supervisor's supervisor.



          He is calm.  Although he is frustrated, he doesn't express anger.  But he does become more irritated with each call explaining himself again and again.  We still have the box.  We have asked for a box to return it in.  I have even taken it to the two locations here in Myrtle Creek - a warehouse downtown and the communication center? in Tri-City.  It was closed.  I wonder if it ever opens.  Or why it's there. 



          Frontier will probably go out of business.  We heard that from an employee.  No kidding.  I don't guess their exceptional customer service would have anything to do with it.





          I've been dealing with crisis of my own.  We're doing our taxes.  Need I say more?  No matter how prepared we believe we are, we're always missing forms.  At least three 1099s.  And so I've been trying to make contacts with each of the companies getting nowhere fast. 



          Actually, I did make progress with one company.  I've listened to at least 7 different recordings for another.  I finally left my phone # when I was given the option to leave with a promise of a call back within 24 hours.  Oh, they did call back alright.  But it was the WRONG company.  I was contacted this morning by one who received my phone number.  It took us a few minutes to realize that the number I retrieved from the other website had been connected to the other at one time, but was no longer a part of them - therefore she couldn't help me.  (Ugh)



          And the one human I get has an accent so thick that she had to slow down when pronouncing "Annual Summary" because I was hearing "Animal Movie" and I knew that is not what she was saying.



          I wish I had the patience and control that Roland does when he is speaking over the phone.  I am just too dang emotional.  Customer Satisfaction really hasn't seemed very satisfying this century.   



       I told Roland that one of the things I really like about living in Oregon is that I feel like a person and not just a statistic.  When I am calling corporations I feel even less than a statistic.

Sunday, March 13, 2016

Judge Not That Ye Be Not Judged

  My dad was a man of few words.  He did not share much of himself with anyone - including his own children.  So when he did share experiences with us - particularly about his past - it was indeed a rare treasure.  Although I may have not appreciated it at the time, I now realize what a treasure it truly was.

       We were having a family home evening lesson - I'm thinking on judgement.  I remember him sharing an example from his past.  He said that there was a boy in his class who was not all that nice, one that had the reputation of a bully.  Someone whose personality clashed with everybody.  My dad was no exception.  He said though he had tried, he just didn't like the guy.

       One day the teacher had given the class an exam.  My dad said his arm was in a cast at the time, and he wasn't able to write the answers in the given amount of time.  When the instructor called "time" dad's paper was only half complete.

       I don't know if my dad would have said anything on his own.  The classroom "bully" pointed out to the teacher that "Gary can't write the answers.  It isn't fair."

       He then volunteered to take my dad aside and write down the answers as my dad would say verbally.  Dad said that ever since that time, he was able to look at people with new eyes and realize that probably everyone has some good in him.

       probably a few years after dad had share this story, I had a similar thing happen to me.

       Jeff seemed to have an obnoxious personality in my opinion.  He was quite popular, but overall not my favorite person.  I seemed to face low self-esteem.  I was quite friendless at school and really didn't enjoy being there. 

       My mom had called the school psychologist in hopes that he could help mend my situation.  Everybody knew that those that went to the school psychologist had issues.  Those kids were made fun of.  Way to go, mom!

       I remember a time when my teacher told me that it was time for me to go to the psychologist office.  Most of the class had gone out for recess or gone to lunch or whatever, but I do remember hearing Jeff ask when he would get to go.  I didn't hear the teacher's response.  I was mortified. 

       My situation did change, but it wasn't directly because of the school psychologist.  Ironically, I give Jeff the credit for smoothing out the bumps in my road.  I don't think I connected the dots until much later in my life, but it was after he had asked the question that he and a few of his buddies started paying attention to me and befriending me and teasing me about which of the three I would like to go steady with.  They made being at school a lot more bearable.

        I never told Jeff how much I appreciated that.  I don't think I made the connection until many years later - when I didn't have contact with him anymore - not that we ever did have intimate contact.  He may not even remember the situation.  I'm certain that it was a lot more meaningful to me - especially since it was someone I hadn't even liked that had helped me.


       I think there are lots of situations in which many are "saved" by someone that they either hadn't liked or maybe feared.  Perhaps we ought to find a new perspective in others before we need saving.  Just a thought.


Sunday, August 10, 2014

What Kind of Parents are You? - You Don’t Even Know Us


         About a year and a half after we moved in, Jenna was out in front playing with Wesley.  Wes introduced her to Blake, who lived around the corner.  Blake and Jenna decided to be friends and ditched Wesley who had decided to climb on the roof next door.  Both Blake and Jenna were mortified by his decision.

         The next day Blake came over to play with Jenna.  It just happened to be her birthday and she had turned seven.  I had a party planned with many of her friends from the old neighborhood.  Jenna asked if Blake could go with us.  I told them both that we would need permission from Blake’s parents – or parent rather.  Like many of the children over here, Blake came from a broken home.

         Blake left the house and made his way back in what felt like only two minutes.  He said it was all right for me to take him to another city.  I didn’t feel right about it unless I talked with an adult first.  And so I drove him home and talked with his dad.

         His dad, who doesn’t know me, who had never even met Jenna before, said that Blake was a good kid and it would be all right if I were to take him to Kearns.  Are you kidding me?  Yes.  Blake was a very good kid.  Out of all of Jenna’s West Valley friends, I think I have actually  liked Blake the most.  But just because he was a good kid didn’t make me a reliable person.  I am.  But he doesn’t know that.

         So I took Blake to Kearns with us – still in awe that he’d been allowed to go with a virtual stranger.  There is no way in the world I would be allowing Jenna to get in the car of the parent of a friend that she just met and I don’t know.  Blake was not only allowed to go to the party, but his sister had gone out and purchased a Barbie for him to give to Jenna.

         Then there was Sadie.  Cute little Sadie.  She showed up at our doorstep one day.  Jenna had met her through some of the other neighborhood kids – and actually spends more time with Sadie than anyone.  She happened to be here as we were getting ready to go to Anna’s 4th birthday party.  Jenna asked if Sadie could go with us.  So I put Sadie in the car and drove her to her house to get permission.  Unlike Blake’s father, who spoke English, Sadie’s father doesn’t speak any English, and so I had to take her word (and his nod) for it that he has given permission.

         We’ve taken Sadie on bus rides to Kearns a couple of times.  And last night she had her first sleep over at our house.  Why would a parent allow their child to sleep over at someone’s house they haven’t met?  Again, I am not comfortable with the idea of Jenna sleeping over night with strangers – though I suppose that slumber parties could be in the future and maybe I won’t know the parents – or even the children – as her classmates also live in another city.

         And then there’s Desiree across the street.  She has two children, ages 8 and 6.  I really like the 8 year old.  She has been taught values and respect.  I think she has been the most respectful of any of Jenna’s West Valley friends, and would like to see Jenna learn that same respect – except for Desiree seems to be overly cautious about letting her children go anywhere – which I fully understand.  She doesn’t know us either. 

Jenna and I were walking somewhere when she said “Hi” to us.  I asked Jenna if she wanted to invite Alisha to walk with us in which Jenna replied, “Her mom won’t even let her walk to the corner” which made me laugh.  But I’ve learned that she wasn’t joking.  Alisha and her brother have to be within eyesight at all times.  

I wonder if something tragic happened either in Desiree’s life or the lives of her two young children.  I would highly suspect that both have different fathers – and maybe there’s a custody battle going on and perhaps one or the other has been taken and that’s why Desiree doesn’t trust anyone.  But I actually understand her overprotectiveness more than the allowing your child to ride in the car with someone you don’t even know. 

I wish I were more casual and trusting of people.  I wish we lived in a world in which we wouldn’t question the motives of the adult but be happy to let our child go – knowing that he or she will have fun and nothing bad will happen and that suspicions would be non-existent.    But there is suspicion and bad intentions and caution.  And labeling on my part – as I’ve referred to them as West Valley friends, and school friends instead of just friends.  But then there’s a degree of friendship as well.

Tomorrow I will be going to Kearns to watch my youngest nephew.  I will be taking Jenna with me.  Her other two cousins have play dates set up, and I am hoping to have one for her as well. So far it is looking good that she will be spending time with her kindergarten buddy. I hope so.  It will be good for her to play with somebody her age on her same level.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Why Women Leak




         Actually, I don’t know why women leak.  We just do.  Perhaps not all women, but many of us.
Whenever we feel sadness or sorrow, compassion or joy, empathy or misconduct, our eyes tear up and flood our face. Whenever our child (or children) is hurting, we feel their pain.  Whenever we see a movie or read a book that reaches into our hearts and connects to our tear ducts.  Whenever our hormones happen to be on overdrive (or overload?) Whenever we feel misunderstood.









I have cried at the end of Toy Story 3, Despicable Me, and E.T. (to name a few) I wept through Alabama Moon and The Odd Life of Timothy Green.  I need an entire box of tissues each time I watch “Up” and I refuse to watch “The Notebook” ever again.  I’ve cried when reading Children’s books such as “The Robot and The Bluebird” by David Lucas or “You are Mine” by Max Lucado.  I cried during parts of “The One and Only Ivan” by Katherine Applegate and stories such as Monkeys and the Mangos (which has many versions).  









Tear ducts seem to be attached to the heart strings except in the case of chopping onions – that produces tears in which the heart is not involved.  Roland and Jenna can both seem to chop onions without tearing up. Jenna laughs when I chop onions.
Last night I cried during an episode of “Chopped” for crying out loud.  To me it just feels pretty silly to cry at the end of reality show.  What a dweeb. The female chef had burned herself and her competitor who claims he was arrogant and had stepped on others to climb to the top had made amends . . . and offered to pay for her plane ticket out of his winnings.



We’re a sorry case, I suppose.  But we’re also awesome at being able to feel.

Monday, August 26, 2013

When It Was Ricks College


I attended Ricks College for one year.  Rexburg was over 200 miles away from my home and so I lived in the dorms near the campus. Believe it or not, I really did have three roommates with the same or similar names – though each spelled differently.  Christy Ann Howardson, Christie Lee Hill and Kristaleigh Phelps.  The girls who lived in the same dorm as we did would see me coming and would say, “Hi Christi-“ in which I would respond, “No, I’m the other one” thus earning my new nickname, “the other one”

We couldn’t refer to the Christie(y)s with just the last initial because they both started with the same letter.  And although Christie was willing to go by Christie Lee it was just too confusing for Kristaleigh.  And Christy refused to go by Christy Ann.  So sometimes I called her Howard – or Howardine – just to get a rile out of her. It was actually kind of fun.

As roommates go, we all had our peculiarities, our strengths and our weaknesses, etc.  Christie was a take charge kind of gal.  We called her mom.  She liked to bake.  And she baked well.  She once made an oatmeal cake in two round pans.  Never had an opportunity to put it together and frost it as one.  Christy ate one pan and I ate the other.  And I think Christie was okay with it. She loved to cook and bake but didn’t necessarily want to eat everything she made.




Most of the dishes in the kitchen were hers.  She had brought along these puny juice glasses which I always referred to as “Barbie doll” glasses.  I had asked her why she had brought so many “Barbie doll” glasses instead of something large enough to actually quench one’s thirst.  She said matter-of-factly, “Because I was hoping that I would get a roommate who would give them a nickname.”

Christy, who was one of the most gullible people on this planet, believed her.

Christy was a farm girl from a city in Idaho that nobody had ever even heard of.  She always had to explain that it was near Blackfoot – which more than half of the college attenders had never heard of either.  She was the role model of all blonde jokes.  Sometimes I felt like I was talking to someone from a foreign planet who had obviously never experienced earth life before.


Boys seemed magnetized to Christy.  Can’t say that I would have been interested in any of them.  Not that they’d ever give me a second look. Seriously.  They all needed ego boosters. And not all of them had good intentions.  And Christy was quite naïve.

Kristaleigh and I were the theatrical pair.  She actually majored in theatre – whereas I was just a ham.  I once practiced lines with her as she had an audition coming up.  She asked me to pair up with her for her audition.  She picked out my clothes so that I would look the part.  I told the instructor that I was not trying out for the part but had come to assist.  I wasn’t interested in the play itself nor was I interested in devoting my free time with practice.



After we had auditioned, he looked at me and said I could still be considered.  I told him no, thank you.  I’m so glad that I did.  For, according to Kristaleigh, everyone who had auditioned had been given a part – except for her.  I think she tried too hard and her acting was just that.  It never looked natural. I would have felt awful going to auditions that she wasn’t directly a part of. She worked it out so that she could be prop manager.

The dorm put out a newsletter once a month (I’m guessing) and Christie was one of the editors and had asked Christy and I to write pieces on occasion.  I actually didn’t remember having that newsfeed but had come across it when weeding through the scrapbooks that I could no longer save (see this post)


I had scanned the following: