Getting To Know Me....

I was tagged for a “meme” a few months ago by a Twitter acquaintance @CalamityJen. I did not have time to fulfill the obligation but it has not been forgotten. Today I was tagged again by Twitter acquaintance @Thronkus who has posted his meme here. The object of a “meme” is to tell six things about yourself that most people would not know about you. (Or, I assume, care to know about me, but I’m not the one doing the tagging so that is not my call.)


I will start with the rules and YOU WILL SEE WHY when you reach the end. The rules to play are easy …
1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on the blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post.
5. Let each person know they have been tagged.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.


#1: I have been homeless three times. That doesn’t mean between apartments or traveling between hostels. I mean, “Charles Dickens homeless.”


The first time was when I was 22 years old. My mother had a terminal illness and I took a leave of absence from work to care for her in her final days. She had no income so I exhausted my savings on necessities during those few months. When it was over I still had a job but nowhere to live. I used to clean myself up in the rest room at work and then work a full schedule. When I was not on the schedule, I napped in the back offices so that I would be well rested at night and I could walk around and stay awake to make sure I did not come to harm. This wasn’t always easy because there are always wackos in any city. Once the security people in the Prudential Towers rescued me from harm and when they heard my story, that same crew of guys let me sleep in the lobby during their shift whenever they were working. I learned that people can be kind, even if it gives them no benefit. It kept me going.


The second time was when I broke off my engagement to someone who (thankfully) showed his true colours as soon as I agreed to marry him. I was so grateful to escape from the situation (before I was married) that the idea of escaping with only a few clothes seemed like a pretty good deal at the time. Obviously I survived and I learned to be more careful about who I love.


The third time was as recent as the year 2000. I took a job working for a non-profit as a consumer advocate. They really wanted my skill set but the salary was not enough to pay my rent and basic necessities. I finally accepted the offer based on a verbal agreement involving a bonus after ninety days. They got around the agreement by hiring a new manager right after I started. I think you can tell where this is going…. After ninety days I reminded the CEO of our agreement and he told me to speak with my manager. My manager told me the agreement was not with her and she knew nothing about it. I had to give up my apartment but thankfully this time I had a car to live in. They had me over a barrel because I could not quit and have no job – I just had to scratch my way back again. My take away lessons here were A: get life altering agreements in writing and B: just because you are doing kind things for people and working for a non-profit, does not mean the non-profit is also kind.


I know the above is deep stuff to reveal in a “meme” but I’ve been meaning to write about it for a while anyway. I think it is appropriate here because these experiences played such a huge part in my formation. Though I have not sugar-coated anything, I could have been more graphic about how hard it was. There is no need to do so because it is over. What it produced is a pragmatist with a huge store of empathy. I also don’t fear much anymore. Our entire financial system is crumbling into the gutter and I think, “What is the worst that can happen?” I could end up destitute and homeless. I have learned there are worse things. What I have of value, I carry with me, inside of me, and I can’t imagine who could manage to take that away from me while I am still breathing.


#2: It is only appropriate to follow that up with the Reader’s Digest version of how I beat THE MAN. This takes place at the same non-profit that I worked for in 2000. Just as I had gotten to my feet and scraped up enough for a shabby studio I was informed that I was eligible for the company 401K plan. (You read that right – not a 403K plan. Even though they were a non-profit they received special dispensation to have a 401K plan.) I asked to be excluded from the plan because I could not afford to participate. I was told the plan was “mandatory.” Even to my (then) naïve ears this did not sound legal and it wasn’t. After a lot of time in the library I learned more than any layman should ever know about 401K plans. I was bounced back and forth between the Department of Labor and the Department of Revenue for several months before my Congressman (Ed Markey, for the record) forced someone to listen to me. The non-profit had to refund my money (but not the 401K because it was already invested), they had to re-vamp their 401K plan (with much greater benefit to their employees) and they suffered some serious fines from the Internal Revenue Service. A month later, I secured a much better position and gave my notice. Though I never planned it that way, giving my notice AFTER forcing these changes was like twisting the knife.


#3: On a lighter note, I have the same freckle in the same spot on my right middle finger as I do on my right middle toe.


#4: I used to arrest shoplifters as a Boston Special Police Officer for Bonwit Teller and Tower Records. During my tenure, I had the highest apprehension record at both establishments and never made a “bad stop.” Please bear with me as I point out, I was the only FEMALE in the department at Tower Records and, let me repeat, I had the HIGHEST apprehension record. On my last day, before going onto a better opportunity, I broke an internal theft ring we had been trying to crack for four months. Don’t mess with me.


#5: If given enough time (and enough tequila) I can hang up to three ordinary sized teaspoons off my nose. I have witnesses. And an ordinary sized nose.


#6: Last of all, I do not believe someone I know will die if I do not pass along your chain letter or email, or your meme, for that matter. I accept this assignment with good humour but I don’t think anyone would walk into my office and say, “You will spend two hours writing this and I won’t pay you for it.” That is how I would feel passing this on to someone. I don’t do things like that. That is not a put down to anyone who tagged me or would tag someone else because this exercise is all in fun. But things like this have to stop somewhere and they stop with me. I’ll take the heat. Now don’t you wish I was an investment banker? I would have put a stop to that whole Ponzi scheme that has caused our country’s financial collapse.