The word I hate most...

Not that I'm even sure whether I will vote in this election, but I've been surviving the assault of people constantly yammering on about it for the past 30 or so months, and from out of the all the pissing and moaning I have heard one word more than any other (well, maybe it's a tie with "change" and "maverick," but still): experience.

And not that anyone cares what I think, but I just want to say how much I hate that word. Yes, it does have something to do with the fact that I've been burned by it, but seriously -- it doesn't mean anything. What is experience, after all, but the fact that you've done something before...you've had an experience? But then there's this pesky other issue of "having experience." How many times must you have an experience before you "have experience" with that experience?

For idiots, I would assume that they could have the same experience day after day and never master the task or learn anything from it -- like me with brushing my hair or getting dressed. I suck at brushing my hair and getting dressed, but I've been doing it for 20-odd years; do I "have experience?" If I worked at the same job for those same 20-odd years, I'm sure you'd say I "have experience," right?

But would you say I "have experience" being a secretary? I've been one for a year and four months, and I feel like I've mastered all there is to master (if you can call it that). My tenure as a secretary has been much shorter than Barack Obama's as a senator and is even shorter than Sarah Palin's as governor of Alaska. Yet, these people do not "have experience" according to many opinions I've heard and read. Of course, maybe you don't think I "have experience" being a secretary...

So tell me, what does it mean to "have experience?" And what does having experience really matter? I personally think one's ability and willingness to learn mean much more than this experience nonsense. Of course, this is coming from a person with more experience in learning than anything else.

One in my long list of "things for losers"

I will never be an event planner. Planning events is time-sucking and banal. Figuring out seating arrangements and floral centerpiece decorations could not be less thrilling for me (maybe this is because I'm generally misanthropic, but I like to imagine it's because I have more significant uses for my time).

Printing/mailing invitations? Annoying.

Receiving RSVPs? Also annoying, and something that can more effectively be done by an answering machine or an email inbox.

Making name tags and place cards? Come on...are you serious? Everyone hates name tags, don't they?

But alas, I am female and somebody's secretary, so I guess I'm doomed to plan events for now. And I apologize in advance if I forget to order something obvious like table linens or neglect to update the caterers on the guest count as of right this minute. I just didn't think about it.

My name

I always thought my name was weird and singular -- "Kelly Kleinfelter" does not seem like it would happen twice, you know? Upon Googling myself, however, I have come to find that there are several similarly named women out there (not sure whether there are any men). Some spell it "Klinefelter," but it's still the same name.

This makes me wonder about their lives and the lives of their families. My name has meant a lot to me and has shaped some experiences in profound ways. I can not say that having this mouthful of a name hasn't been a burden for me.

Are they constantly asked to spell out their/our name? Does this annoy them? Embarrass them?

Are they amused by creative misspellings of their/our name? (For the record, the best I've seen so far is "Kelley Caleinselczer").

Were they ever called "Kelly Feltersnatch" by teasing boys in high school?

Mom quotes

I have intermittently collected quotes from my mom in the past, as she so often comes out with so many memorable utterances. This is a project that I realized quite recently should become a more regular focus. To start, I offer one of my favorites to date:

As she stands considering a flyer posted on the bulletin board by the registers at the grocery store, she questions, "what's this about confederate coupons?" I ask, "you mean, counterfeit coupons?" before making some crack related to worthless Civil War era currency (I never said I wasn't both a nerd and a smart ass). She proceeds to laugh and laugh as she always does following one of these misreading accidents that happens much too frequently since she refuses to wear her glasses.

Oh, my mom.

So it is written...

My horoscope told me I should write a poem today, but I just don't have it in me.

Do you think I can save it for tomorrow?

The big D

While not a literal roast beef concern, my excessive student loan debt is related. After all, it is a concern, and it directly affects my ability to afford roast beef (and other items essential and non-essential to my survival).

It's hard not to get a little sad, then a little panicked, (then a little bitter) when I see that date in 2032 (June 28th) on which I can plan to celebrate the payoff of all student loans incurred over the course of 6 years of private post-secondary education. At least I only have $88,829.29 left to pay! Good thing I majored in English and then went on for that useful MA in art history/museum studies. Oh wait...

An on-topic post

My parents got home from "the shore" yesterday afternoon.

I returned from a long day at work to find them puzzling over what to eat for supper. Unsurprisingly perhaps, they selected roast beef dinners from the Twin Kiss after much discussion.

My mother was concerned because the roast beef wasn't "quite right," but rather chopped much too thinly according to her preferences. Additionally, the included beef gravy was not believed to be the correct consistency, though I had to disagree.

The meal ended with much of her roast beef dinner being stored in the refrigerator uneaten.