Nice-ities
Aug. 11th, 2018 10:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblogWe all have our favourite comic book or tv-show superhero we wish will get updated and booted back into one of the various Major Cinematic Universes. There's always a shot- who'd have guessed a foul-mouthed raccoon, or an even fouler-mouthed cancer case, would have made the cut at Marvel? DC's a little too traditional, but I suppose the Teen Titan animated bit shows they have a little room for B-movie stars.
For me, it'd be this guy:
What better pedigree can you get? Brought to life by the co-creator of Get Smart and screenplay writer of The Graduate? Starring the voice of Knight Rider and featuring the neighbor from Bewitched? That costume?!? What's not nice about that?
(Answer: nobody knew. It sucked in the ratings and was never heard from again.)
Anyway, I thought of him yesterday as Eleanor and I both had to turn to our super-nice powers dealing with our nemeses out there, trying at every turn to weaken us with Kryptonice.
----
Not sure if I mentioned this here amongst all the day-to-day news about our newest four-pawed arrival, but it's been an occasionally bubbling-under-the-surface issue. We agreed to adopt this dog from the daughter of one of Eleanor's coworkers, who had, in turn, adopted her from the city shelter not five months earlier. Her then-boyfriend (who she met working with her in a very hipster line and is quite a bit older than her about-our-Emily's age) had promised to take Pepper with him if they ever broke up. They did, he didn't, so we stepped in. Eleanor would give Pepper's former grandma the occasional update about the dog, and they talked a little bit about whether her daughter could come visit sometime. Then, sometime maybe a month or so ago, the daughter just happened to run into Eleanor at the store herself. She was asking after Pepper, wondering, not only if she could pay a visit sometime, but if the ex-boyfriend ALSO could. (Apparently he misses her, too. He, who broke the promise to be her forever daddy. Womp womp.)
Although Eleanor gave her a semi-but-noncommittal "okay," she didn't feel right about it. So we both reached out to numerous friends and fellow companions. These include at least one veterinarian and a couple who've been fostering mostly pitties for years. Also, neighbors of ours who also recently adopted; they had come to find that it takes a good four months minimum for a dog to acclimate to a new home and reveal its true personality. And that, presumably, is for a sample consisting mostly of breeder/litter/foster/SPCA or whatever to the forever home. This dog went from original (still unknown) owner to street to shelter to daughter to us in a span of six months. That's five adjustments- six if you count whatever bonding she did at grandma's house. So we let her know, through her mom, that we didn't think it was a good idea, at least for the foreseeable future- and that if it did occur, it would be on a less confusing neutral ground.
Well. Apparently that message was either not delivered or not understood. Because although I'd ended my workday early and mostly Nice-ly (except for the one need for superpowers I'll get to), as I was starting to head home from Wegmans (Eleanor had left an hour earlier), there was a text from her, followed by a call. The former owner had just texted her, to the effect of Hey! I have a bunch more of Pepper's old toys and things and I'm gonna be in the neighborhood so okay if I stop by with them?
We both thought of the same answer: No, but thanks. Just leave them at your mom's (she lives very close to us and even closer to the store) and we'll get them from her.
Kid: Awwww, but I'm right around the corner, okay if I just drop them if you're not there?
Both of us, agreeing on the answer: Don't answer her.
Sure enough, within minutes, by which time I'm about a mile from the house myself, she's out on the driveway. Rings both doorbells, knocks, probably would've just walked in if she had been only a percent cheekier. Eleanor is literally hiding in our own home to avoid the confrontation. Finally, moments before I pulled up (and I had a very nice speech for her rehearsed, incorporating most of what I said up above), she dropped the loot on our front stoop and headed off.
Yeesh.
Best current advice is not to text her back, or do anything that suggests any openings in the boundaries we are trying to set down. We will call her, make clear that we appreciate everything she's done, that the dog is fine (some have said this is important to convey), and that Pepper, through how she acts around us and home and others, will tell us when the right time is, if the right time ever is, to reopen this back door into her life.
And if not, I may just need to flashy-thing the kid-
----
Meanwhile, in the mild-mannered offices of a great sub-metropolitan law office:
A coworker referred a guy a few years ago for bankruptcy. Nice enough, but utterly unreliable, and very needy. I put endless hours into trying to either fix his bankruptcy repayment plan or at least let him get some of his debts discharged, but he never kept appointments, didn't pay for most of what I did do, and he finally got dismissed out. A few months ago, I helped him with one post-BK aspect of his financial stuff, and even THAT was pulling teeth. Blessedly, I hadn't heard from him in months, but for some reason (I suspect seeing his name in my text messages when I was scrolling back for something else) I thought of him around lunchtime yesterday. That was all it took to turn my eyes bright blue and transform into the Incredible Nice Guy. Because OF COURSE he called late in the afternoon, right before I left. And OF COURSE he needs more shit. And OF COURSE I made an appointment with him- but with specific rules and boundaries. Check in hand when you come in the door. And after that, pay as you go- you pay or I go. Miss an appointment and don't call? Done.
I wonder if I should wear a cape.
For me, it'd be this guy:
What better pedigree can you get? Brought to life by the co-creator of Get Smart and screenplay writer of The Graduate? Starring the voice of Knight Rider and featuring the neighbor from Bewitched? That costume?!? What's not nice about that?
(Answer: nobody knew. It sucked in the ratings and was never heard from again.)
Anyway, I thought of him yesterday as Eleanor and I both had to turn to our super-nice powers dealing with our nemeses out there, trying at every turn to weaken us with Kryptonice.
----
Not sure if I mentioned this here amongst all the day-to-day news about our newest four-pawed arrival, but it's been an occasionally bubbling-under-the-surface issue. We agreed to adopt this dog from the daughter of one of Eleanor's coworkers, who had, in turn, adopted her from the city shelter not five months earlier. Her then-boyfriend (who she met working with her in a very hipster line and is quite a bit older than her about-our-Emily's age) had promised to take Pepper with him if they ever broke up. They did, he didn't, so we stepped in. Eleanor would give Pepper's former grandma the occasional update about the dog, and they talked a little bit about whether her daughter could come visit sometime. Then, sometime maybe a month or so ago, the daughter just happened to run into Eleanor at the store herself. She was asking after Pepper, wondering, not only if she could pay a visit sometime, but if the ex-boyfriend ALSO could. (Apparently he misses her, too. He, who broke the promise to be her forever daddy. Womp womp.)
Although Eleanor gave her a semi-but-noncommittal "okay," she didn't feel right about it. So we both reached out to numerous friends and fellow companions. These include at least one veterinarian and a couple who've been fostering mostly pitties for years. Also, neighbors of ours who also recently adopted; they had come to find that it takes a good four months minimum for a dog to acclimate to a new home and reveal its true personality. And that, presumably, is for a sample consisting mostly of breeder/litter/foster/SPCA or whatever to the forever home. This dog went from original (still unknown) owner to street to shelter to daughter to us in a span of six months. That's five adjustments- six if you count whatever bonding she did at grandma's house. So we let her know, through her mom, that we didn't think it was a good idea, at least for the foreseeable future- and that if it did occur, it would be on a less confusing neutral ground.
Well. Apparently that message was either not delivered or not understood. Because although I'd ended my workday early and mostly Nice-ly (except for the one need for superpowers I'll get to), as I was starting to head home from Wegmans (Eleanor had left an hour earlier), there was a text from her, followed by a call. The former owner had just texted her, to the effect of Hey! I have a bunch more of Pepper's old toys and things and I'm gonna be in the neighborhood so okay if I stop by with them?
We both thought of the same answer: No, but thanks. Just leave them at your mom's (she lives very close to us and even closer to the store) and we'll get them from her.
Kid: Awwww, but I'm right around the corner, okay if I just drop them if you're not there?
Both of us, agreeing on the answer: Don't answer her.
Sure enough, within minutes, by which time I'm about a mile from the house myself, she's out on the driveway. Rings both doorbells, knocks, probably would've just walked in if she had been only a percent cheekier. Eleanor is literally hiding in our own home to avoid the confrontation. Finally, moments before I pulled up (and I had a very nice speech for her rehearsed, incorporating most of what I said up above), she dropped the loot on our front stoop and headed off.
Yeesh.
Best current advice is not to text her back, or do anything that suggests any openings in the boundaries we are trying to set down. We will call her, make clear that we appreciate everything she's done, that the dog is fine (some have said this is important to convey), and that Pepper, through how she acts around us and home and others, will tell us when the right time is, if the right time ever is, to reopen this back door into her life.
And if not, I may just need to flashy-thing the kid-
----
Meanwhile, in the mild-mannered offices of a great sub-metropolitan law office:
A coworker referred a guy a few years ago for bankruptcy. Nice enough, but utterly unreliable, and very needy. I put endless hours into trying to either fix his bankruptcy repayment plan or at least let him get some of his debts discharged, but he never kept appointments, didn't pay for most of what I did do, and he finally got dismissed out. A few months ago, I helped him with one post-BK aspect of his financial stuff, and even THAT was pulling teeth. Blessedly, I hadn't heard from him in months, but for some reason (I suspect seeing his name in my text messages when I was scrolling back for something else) I thought of him around lunchtime yesterday. That was all it took to turn my eyes bright blue and transform into the Incredible Nice Guy. Because OF COURSE he called late in the afternoon, right before I left. And OF COURSE he needs more shit. And OF COURSE I made an appointment with him- but with specific rules and boundaries. Check in hand when you come in the door. And after that, pay as you go- you pay or I go. Miss an appointment and don't call? Done.
I wonder if I should wear a cape.