New Boss Blues

Dear Marjean,

Seeing as you're the best in the advice business, hopefully you can help me. As you can tell by my name, I'm in a bit of sticky situation, just like a fly stuck in a piece of pecan pie!

I have a new boss, who is absolutely nothing like the old boss. I want to give the new one a fair shake, but "Gilberta" as I'll refer to her, doesn't come close to filling the old shoes. My old boss was great to talk to - you know how it is down in the South. Talking with him was like sipping mint juleps on the front veranda in a white rocking chair. With Gilberta, it's like trying to have a conversation in hurricane speed. I know you'll probably tell me I have to give it time, which I will try.

But it's just not the same anymore. Even my colleagues on conference calls seem bummed over the whole situation. Our weekly meetings used to be filled with talk of pirates and marmots. Now it's all business.

What can I do?

Signed,
New Boss Blues


Dear Blue,

Bless your heart! Y'know, I've been hearin' more and more about this very same problem lately. In fact, that's pretty much the reason I work for myself now at AskMarjean, Inc. since no one could have possibly filled the handsome designer shoes of my last manager.

There was a time I would have told you to give Gilberta some time to come around, but life is short, and the older I get, I'll be derned if I just get less and less patient. Some of them psychology courses I took down at the community college suggest what they call a "meaningful intervention". The last one of these I was involved in had me and all my sewing circle ladies talkin' Wylethia out of getting her stomach stapled, so I'm here to tell you that this is a tried an' true method of relationship communication. Of course poor Wylethia has taken to her bed and refuses to wear anything but those filthy tent-dresses, but, I mean, Lawd! Who wants to socialize with someone with staples in their stomach? The very idea is downright revoltin'. It was for the best. If Wylethia wants to wear a smaller size, she can use Crisco and a girdle like the rest of us.

Now back to your question.

The next time you find yourself getting windblown by Hurricane Gilberta, I want you to follow these steps:

• Shout "Stop!"
• Tell her that you can't take her corporate barf-speak any longer, and that you're putting your foot down.
• Tell her that she is not meeting your emotional needs, and that she is failing to be personal and right friendly-like at team meetings.
• Ask her what secrets she's hiding. Suggest that she open up and tell you what she's afraid of. (have tissues or a garbage can handy...this can sometimes get ugly)
• If she does not get all humble-like, tell her that you know that deep inside she is hurting and all this corporate whirlwind garbage is just a cry for help. Tell her you know that she goes home to her empty apartment at night and eats a gallon of ice cream while watching the Lifetime channel and cries herself to sleep while wearing her ex-boyfriend's t-shirt. Tell her you know why her last cat ran away.
• Suggest that she let her hair down with the team and just be normal. Everybody knows that she poops like everyone else, so why does she act like she don't?
• Regardless of her response in this intervention, treat her like you would an elderly person or retarded cousin. Smile sweetly, offer a hug, but don't take her seriously. Ever.
• You'll find that you'll feel better immediately!

Because Gilberta probably doesn't have a soul and most likely can't be expected to have any sort of what the fancy folk call "emotional intelligence", just go along to get along. And keep in touch with that old manager to get your needs met.

Let me know how it goes, and thank you for writing!

Marjean

Need advice? Ask Marjean!

Dear Marjean,

People tell me that one side of my head is bigger that the other. I was thinking about getting a new hair style to help camouflage the difference. Any suggestions?

Not quite the elephant man



Dear El,
Bless your heart. My Uncle Earl had the same condition, and it just gave him fits, especially in windy weather. Believe you me, no new hairstyle is going to disguise your misshapen noggin.

I happen to have a home remedy that may give you some relief, if you follow it to the letter.

1. Completely shave your head. I know, I know, it sounds extreme, but trust me.
2. Before you retire for the evening, make a poultice of the hair you just shaved, a quart of low-fat cottage cheese, and one 12-ounce bottle of wood glue.
3. Cover the SMALL side of your head with the poultice., shaping it to fit your head like a cap.
4. In the morning, the poultice will have hardened, and now the 2 sides of your head should be the same size.

Good luck, sloshy head. Let me know how it goes.

Dear Marjean:

I desperately need your advice! Recently our company announced that it was being purchased by a Much Larger National Insurance Conglomerate. Many of the staff here feel the end is near, and some have actually started carrying "The End Is Near" signs, wearing sackcloth and tearing at their hair. People break into tears for no reason. It has made for a very uncomfortable (not to mention an unfashionable) work environment. Any ideas how to deal tastefully with this?

Signed, Not Into Sackcloth

Dear Sack,

I feel your pain. As a recent employment amputee, I can relate to the sad goings-on in America's cubicles. While my first inclination is to be real compassionate-like, it gets a little old when someone comes in a-cryin' and a-carryin' on and snottin' up every Kleenex you got. Plus, sackcloth makes EVERYBODY's butt look big, so here's what I want you to do:

The next time someone starts all that "woe is me" stuff, just bust out in your best baritone voice a line or two from "Always Look On The Sunny Side of Life". Then the next time, sing a bit more. And more and more until they start leaving you alone, or they start paying you for your singing. That way, you've killed two birds with one stone. You've gotten rid of the people who are botherin' you, and you've started a new career in music.

Take care, bless your heart, and let me know how it goes.

Dear Marjean,

I need your help about an issue I have at work. I have recently accepted a position in another department. While I am excited about my new job, I really miss some of the people I used to work with. During the day, I find myself calling them up and asking them to do things for me, like updating their time trackers or putting together a SWOT analysis or filing down my toenails.

Do you think that's normal?

Staffless in Seattle


Dear Staffless,

Darlin', you're barkin' up the wrong tree askin' what's normal. I wouldn't know normal if it stood on its hind legs and bit me. But what you're describing sounds an awful lot like someone with Inappropriate Boundary Syndrome. Chances are you find value in your relationships, and feel the need for the attention you're missing now that you've moved on to another job. So, to recreate this attention, you stalk these poor people and demand their attention by assigning meaningless work. Honey, you need to let go. A great country singer once said, "If you love someone, let them go. If they come back, it was your dog after all." So stop pullin' that dog's tail and get busy botherin' some new people.



Dear Marjean,

Do you know how to get blood stains out of a linen tablecloth?

Messy


Dear Messy,

Sugar, I think the bigger problem is how the blood stains got there in the first place. Call me crazy, but if a family gathering ends in bloodshed, then I think there's a need for some family counselin'. Put away the cutlery and sit your family down for a chat. Make some banana puddin' and a pot of coffee. Real, Southern banana puddin' has a way of helping people release any pent-up negative feelings. It's kind of like an emotional enema. And take it from me, you'll be amazed at the healin' that can take place. Best of luck.

Marjean, Reloaded

Y'all, I've been busier than a long-tailed cat in a room full o' rockin' chairs these last few months. When last I blogged, I was embarkin' on what would be my new future since the "safe" company I was workin' for decided they didn't need me anymore.

Well, I do believe that everything happens for a reason. Now, I know that's what some of my fancy friends would call a "trite" statement, but it's more than something to say when your cousin announces she's pregnant with her 13th child, but that's another blog for another day.

Just yesterday, I was talkin' to my old friend Mary Frances Pickles, and she was just a-cryin' and carryin' on about how overwhelmed she is, and how she has these inexplicable feelings of guilt and remorse, and that she feels a sense of impending doom. I told her, I said, "Mary Frances, everything happens for a reason. The good Lord didn't give you a stern, horsey-looking face and a passion for sensible shoes for nothin'. Get out there and find yourself a purpose instead of making yourself and other people miserable."

And y'all know what? She looked down that long nose of hers at me, and said, "You're right, Marjean. I just needed to hear it from someone who would tell me the honest truth. Thank you."

It was right then that I realized what MY purpose is: to give honest advice to people who, bless their hearts, just don't know what to do. I mean, y'all know me...I've never been at a loss for two things: opinions and an appetite. But only one of those could be of benefit to my fellow man.

So, my friends, I am here to announce my new career, and the new direction of Marjean's Minutes. I am now an advice columnist! And this website will be the forum from which I dispense my advice, ideas and occasional recipe. So, let me hear from you, folks! Send me your questions, queries and cries for help and advice at askmarjean@gmail.com. And look for your answers to be posted here, on the new "Ask Marjean" website!

Love and Kisses,

Marjean

Marjean's Guide to Career Counseling

Y'all, it has been an interesting month, to say the least. After that horrible dream about having to fire my appliances, guess what? I went in to work to discover that they were giving Marjean the old heave-ho. I must be one of them psychics, 'cause it was just like my dream when they told me that my due to expenses, my role would be ending. I cried a bit, peed a little, then cried some more. Who's going to hold this place together if it's not me?

Then, I got to thinkin'. And I know what you're thinkin'...anything that gets Marjean to thinkin' is bound to be trouble. Like the time I decided that the Piccadilly Cafeteria didn't know how to cook cornbread the right way and I stormed the kitchen with a gallon of buttermilk and a can of Crisco. But that's another blog for another day.

Now, I've always tried to be one of those optimists, you know? The kind of people who see the cup is half-full instead of half-empty. Heck, I think it really depends on what the cup is full of, don't you? If it's iced tea, that's all fine and dandy, but what if it's one of those specimen cups you get at the doctor? Lawd!

So anyway, I got to thinkin' that this may be a blessin' in disguise. Sure, I have spent my career pursuing the Administrative Arts and Secretarial Sciences, but is it really what I'm cut out to do? I had to wonder.

So, I visited a real-live Career Counselor and took a series of tests designed to help you figure out what your true calling in life is. And y'all, it was so liberatin' and eye openin'. Even Mr. Figgins the Career Counselor said that in all his years at the Job Placement Center, he'd never seen the computer spit out so many potential careers for somebody.

Based on my unique profile, interests and abilities, here are a few career options that the computer said I should pursue:

• Rodeo Clown


• Hostess at Denney's


• Home Health Nurse - Sponge Bath Specialist


• Chicken Farmer


• Middle School Cafeteria Lunch Lady


• Podiatrist's Assistant - Corn & Bunion Counselor


• 911 Operator

Y'all, I was just tickled at all the possibilities that I had never before considered! Given my love for animals, cooking, feet and helping people, these jobs just seemed to make sense. I am anxious to get started on whatever will be my next step in the world!

So what do y'all think I should do? Cast your vote over there to your left and let me know where you see my very special talents could be best utilized.

Until next time y'all....if there is a next time.

Marjean

Marjean’s Guide to Downsizing & Expense Management

Y’all, if you watch the news these days, it’s downright depressin’. The dollar is deflatin’ faster than a dumplin’ on a fat man’s fork, and if Wall Street is right, we’re all ridin’ shotgun in a hand basket straight to Skid Row.

Well my friends, I’m not one to sit back and let nobody eat my lunch, so I got me some financial advice from the world’s best CEO and home cookin’ expert, Paula Deen. As we sat down to a cup of coffee, Paula told me that makin’ money is easy if you’re prepared to work hard, sacrifice and be willing to make some difficult choices in today’s soft market.

I must confess, I’m not sure what she meant about the soft market since I do all my grocery shoppin’ down at the Piggly Wiggly on Winder Highway. But since I’m not one to argue with Ms. Paula, I just nodded and smiled, and listened right eager-like while she told me that the key to financial success is cutting expenses and downsizing. I gulped and got real wide-eyed, because anytime anyone says “downsizing”, I’m reminded of that embarrassing incident down at the Weight Watchers meeting last Spring, but that’s another blog for another day.


Paula said that you need to take a real hard look at the things that work for you and make some hard decisions…are they essential to your financial success? To drive the economics of your business, you must cut, cut, cut.

So, I went home and I did just that. I started to make a list of all the things that worked for me in my home. An hour later, I had a list of 28 appliances that had served me quite well over the years, some of which had been wedding gifts to me and Roy almost 30 years ago. I started gettin’ a little teary at the thought of gettin’ rid of some of them, but I kept hearin’ what Paula said about expenses: “Cut! Cut! Cut!”, and I knew I had no choice. I had to hand pink-slips to 14 of my household appliances.

Y’all, I had my doubts. How was I supposed to wash and dry clothes without my Maytag set? How was I supposed to vacuum the house without my Hoover? How would I warm Roy’s leftover biscuits without my little toaster oven? Y’all it just didn’t make sense. How would I save money by getting rid of things that performed very well, saved me time and effort and kept my house running efficiently? “It doesn’t matter”, said Paula. “Cut, cut, cut”.

So, cut I did. I unplugged my washer, which was in the middle of cleaning Roy’s work clothes. I unplugged the dryer, the toaster oven, the vacuum cleaner and all my other prized appliances that were on my list and dragged them out to the curb. As I looked out my window at them, they looked so lonely sitting outside. I felt like I owed them something for all the years they’d served me so well, so I grabbed my purse and ran out and stuffed some money inside each appliance and ran back inside to the appliances I had left. The rest of them were going to have to work a lot harder now that there were fewer of them.

I wasn’t sure just how my dishwasher was going to like cleaning dishes AND clothes, but it didn’t matter. I had made the cuts and now my expenses would be under control. It must be right, because that’s just what you have to do, according to Paula. I was excited that my balance sheet would be balanced and my plusses and minuses would all be in the right places. I had made some hard decisions, bit the bullet, and now I could reap the savings afforded me for being willing to show such financial stewardship and intestinal fortitude.

That’s when Paula called me and said that she forgot to tell me Lesson 2. I peed a little thinking that I was gonna to have to take a claw hammer and snatch out the kitchen sink too, but she said that Lesson 2 had to do with making sure that my household was running efficiently, and adding back in the things I needed for the smooth running of my home.

So, as I looked out the window at my neighbors and passersby picking through my beloved appliances and loading them up to take them to new homes, I wondered if Paula knew what she was talking about. I mean, I’ve seen her show, and it doesn’t look like she’s deprivin’ herself of any appliances. If I bought back my appliances later on, had I really saved any money? Or if I had to go out and replace them with brand new appliances that cost much more and didn’t work as well, hadn’t I ended up costing myself more money than any short-term expense cuts? Had I just uprooted my happy household appliances for the sake of just looking like I wanted to save money? And what about the mad money I had run out and stuffed in their dials, knobs and fuse boxes? Wasn’t that money wasted too? It was all too much to think about.


It was then that I woke up just a-screamin’ and a-hollerin’. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. I was sittin’ in Roy’s recliner with my feet up, slippers on, and my favorite apron tied around my waist. Paula Deen was on the TV making banana pudding. All my appliances were in their places. It was all just a dream! Oh my lawd, I never was so happy to see the words Kenmore, Frigidaire and KitchenAid in all my life! I did me a nice little square dance around the kitchen, glad that my appliances were all back where they belonged.


But you know what, y’all? I could swear my toaster oven growled at me.

__________________________________________________________
Feel free to add your thoughts, ideas and experiences with downsizing and expense management at the link below.

The Devil Made Me Wear This

Hi Y'all! Thank all y'all for your comments on my little ol' blog. From the looks of the poll, it seems like all y'all want to hear about the people I work with. Boy, howdy...are there some stories to tell there!

Have y'all seen The Devil Wears Prada? I just love that movie, even though Meryl Streep made me pee just a little because she was so scary and mean. Well, y'all...that's kind of what my life is like with one of my managers in particular.

Like I've told y'all before, I have not one but TWO managers. The man, who'll I'll call "Tim", is just as sweet as he can be. He's as handsome as that George Clooney, and has just the best sense of humor. He's always so kind and encouraging. And then there's the other one. Oh Lord, give me strength. I'll call her "Princess Christy" (actually I'd like to call her something else, and often do behind her back, but that's another story.).

Well, the Princess got in her head that I needed to wear a maid costume on the days I worked for her. She kept hissin' and sprayin' out orders about "type this", "file that", "make me a spreadsheet", "do me a SWOT analysis", "buy me more of that medicated shampoo I like", "rub my feet", "make me a sandwich", "play Barbies with me"....Y'all, it's all I can do not to run screamin' and a-hollerin' for the woods. I've taken to wearin' my Serenity Prayer shawl when I work for her, but I'm findin' I might need somethin' stronger.

Yes, dear ones, I'm talkin' about Voodoo. I talked to Sharleesha, the last assistant to have this job, and she told me about a potion of chicken bones, Liquid Paper and cat litter she brewed in order to neutralize the bad chi that just fogs every room this woman walks in. You can imagine the hilarity that ensued when Ms. Princess Hissy Pants found the potion and started servin' herself a big ol' bowl of it, thinkin' it was Chicken-N-Dumplins' or somethin'. Jesus, take the wheel...I'm a-feelin' woozy.

So anyhoo...I had to abandon the idea of the potion. Plus, I don't think the nice people in Human Resources would take too kindly to the idea that I was tryin' to put some kinda voodoo spell on my manager, even if she would scare the fur off an organ grinder's monkey. I guess I'll stick to the Serenity Prayer, which I've adapted to meet my very specific needs:

Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

Like that freak of nature I work for.

Amen.

And y'all know what? It helps. It also helps that I accidentally spilled lighter fluid on that maid costume and set it on fire.

Until next time, y'all...

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, Y'all!

I hope y'all had a wonderful Christmas, Hanukkah or Kwanzaa, or if you celebrate none of these, then I hope your lonely non-holiday was less bleak than your normal everyday life.

I can hardly believe that 2008 is here! I just love making resolutions for the New Year, even though most of them don't last until January 3rd. There's something about a new year...it's like having new sheets on your bed. All the crumbs and mystery stains are gone, and you have a fresh new year to roll in.

Now, time has taught me to be realistic when it comes to making resolutions, so there's less of a chance of breaking them. So as we hang 2007 out to dry, I'd like to share with you my resolutions for 2008:

1. To be kind to everyone, including that hell-on-wheels woman I have to work for. If I have to bite my tongue until it bleeds, I will smile pleasantly when she asks me to fetch her a third cup of coffee, compliment her hairdo or scrape the rough spots on her feet.
2. To have my eyebrows waxed on a regular basis. Life is too short to look like you have wooly caterpillars on your face. Am I right, ladies?
3. To meet my idol, Paula Deen. Y'all, she is the most wonderful person and I would just die to meet her. I would like to share my recipe for Cole Slaw Casserole with her and see what she thinks. Lawd! Can you imagine Paula takin' a big ol' bite of my casserole! I would just die and go to Heaven right on the spot.
4. To exercise everyday. Now, I know that's a resolution EVERYONE makes this time of year. In the past, I'd say my resolution was to lose 30 or 40 pounds, but y'all...who am I kiddin'? I'm no more likely to lose 30 or 40 pounds than I am to grow a tail. So, I decided I COULD make a resolution to get some exercise. Even if it may be sharpening pencils, doing can-can high kicks or what I like to call hop-n-squats, everything is exercise, honey!
5. To stop nagging my husband, Roy. Y'all, it's not everyone that gets to marry their high school sweetheart, so I resolve to smile sweetly and say "I love you" every time he burps, farts or forgets to clean up from some of his taxidermy experiments.

Whatever your resolutions are for 2008, I hope that it's your best year yet, y'all! Now remember, life is too short for not taking the time to square dance every day!