I’m working on the pre-sale side, obtaining quotes, creating marketing materials, doing research, and providing any other support that might be needed to help close the sale (since I am not a licensed agent, I do not actually write coverage or give advice). It’s a very small business, which means I also sometimes pitch in with post-sale support and general business operations as well.

To say that it’s great to be back in my field again puts it very mildly, and I’m excited to have the opportunity to learn the broker side of the business. I’m also pleased to be employed at the particular business I am; I started out looking at this as a job but I’ve come to develop a lot of respect, and even some caring, for the people I work for and with.

So why, you might ask, don’t I identify this new employer anywhere on this site?

It’s simple: because I respect them too much to want to inadvertently undercut them by expressing an opinion with which they might not agree. I reserve the right to have my opinions, but I absolutely support their right to run their business as they see fit — even when I might not have made the same decision or take the same position.

I did this same thing when I worked for The Castleton Group (2004-2006) and the situation wasn’t academic; that company’s official position was in support of the then-newly developed CDHP concept as a way to improve the health care coverage situation. In my personal blog, I openly called them blatant cost-shifting and nothing more than a way to reduce benefits.

Castleton had no idea I felt that way. It eventually did come out by accident, but only after I’d already been an active participant in the development and implementation of Castleton’s own CDHP. When my very surprised boss asked, my answer was that it wasn’t my place to question managerial decisions. My job was to carry them out, and if I ever got to a point where my conscience gave me a problem with doing that, I knew how to look for another job¹.

I never heard a word after that. But said boss knew I had a blog, and I imagine I’d have heard plenty if I’d identified Castleton as my employer while speaking poorly of CDHP designs. I would have deserved it.

The same situation applies with my current employer. I’m well aware that the owners of the company oppose PPACA in favor of a purely market-based setup; they make no secret of it. They also make no secret of their disdain for political liberals. In my online activity and personal life, I make no secret of the fact that I’m a political liberal who thinks that PPACA doesn’t go far enough and that access to basic health care is a matter of human dignity.

This could be a recipe for trouble, but that’s where the respect comes in.

I’ve had to make myself scarce during a couple of break-room conversations, but the owners of the company have never attempted to force me to do anything explicitly political. The one time I thought I might have to face it — during an educational meeting about the current Supreme Court case — I was pleasantly surprised when they took a neutral “just the facts” approach.

In addition, in the months since I’ve been there, I’ve seen case after case of them doing the best they can to make sure their clients’ employees get access to health care — and then some. The owners of my company care, and it shows.

I’d give them a certain amount of respect anyway based on their position as the owners of the company. But it’s behavior like this that has led me to develop more than just baseline respect. It’s also the reason that I believe I can contribute to their company and do my job with a clear conscience, even though I might not necessarily agree with some of what they do and say.

And it’s because of that that I don’t identify them online. If I’m going to work for this company, I’m going to work for them. That means making sure that outsiders understand that my personal opinions are just that: mine, and personal.

They deserve it.

1. If Castleton had chosen to exclusively offer a CDHP or not contribute to the HSA portion, I would indeed have started looking.

You’re having guests for the weekend — what one local restaurant is at the top of the list for your visitors, and what dishes will you be recommending? (Links to the restaurant’s website always welcome, in case readers are ever in your area!)

I’m going to assume that money is no object, and recommend The Sun Dial Restaurant, Bar and View in Midtown Atlanta. It’s unusual for a restaurant to have a reference to the view in its name, but this one has a very good reason: it’s a rotating restaurant situated on the the top level of the Westin Peachtree Plaza, which is among the tallest buildings in Atlanta (at one point it was the tallest).

But if I were strictly recommending the view, I’d talk about the observation level in the same building which is also open to the public (and a lot cheaper to visit). I fell in love with this restaurant when, as a treat, I decided to go there for Sunday brunch with my mother one time while she was visiting.

The servers seated us at an outside table and, since it was a relatively quiet Sunday afternoon, were friendly and attentive. They even helped us identify some of the buildings as we rotated past them, and told us tidbits of local history. They also listened to our food preferences and made recommendations that both fit our desires and let us sample some local flavor (their menu is seasonal; I doubt the dishes we had are still served).

My mother recalls that brunch as a highlight of her visit, and it certainly was one of my favorite experiences. The food was well-made and the ambience wonderful, and the view simply cannot be beat.

The Sun Dial isn’t cheap — our tab for that brunch was about $60 for the two of us, and Sunday brunch is the least expensive meal they offer. But the food was top-notch and the service and location made it worth the money. Still, it’s certainly not a place I would suggest for a budget traveler, and I’ve only been back twice myself. But that doesn’t mean I would hesitate to recommend it if the situation were right.

According to government records, she was born on March 20, 1865. But according to the family Bible, she was born on March 19, and that was the day she celebrated as her birthday for her entire life. The story, as told to her and then passed down, was that there was a howling blizzard the day she was born. It wasn’t until the next day that her father was able to get out of the house and register her birth.

This sort of incident isn’t difficult to believe given the time and place when she was born; most rural Americans were born at home during the 1860s, and the family lived in an area that was prone to blizzards into late March. When I give my great-great-grandmother’s birth date as March 19, 1865, nobody argues with me.

In the grand scheme of things, of course, it hardly matters which day she was born. But the fact that few people would question my choice to believe a family legend is interesting.

The story can’t be proven; those who were there died long before I was born so I’ve never heard it from a primary source. The most reliable documentary evidence directly contradicts my position. In today’s world of scientific proof and authenticated documentation, there’s no way I could get away with claiming that birth date for her.

If I were to point this out, of course, most people would respond with the very facts I noted above: it’s necessary to account for the time and place where the story occurred, and the documentation occurred after the fact anyway.

The important thing, after all, is that my great-great-grandmother was born, grew up, married, and had children to whom she passed down her beliefs and morals.

This is the exact same logic that those of us who accept Sacred Tradition use when it comes to our choice to believe in it. We account for the fact that during the time and place when Jesus of Nazareth lived, most teaching was done orally. And we are aware that the manuscripts which were lated collected into the Bible were primarily written well after Jesus’ death and resurrection.

Does this mean those manuscripts — Sacred Scripture — aren’t important? Of course not! I would never ignore a letter written by my grandmother about her grandmother. What it means, though, is that I won’t dismiss a particular teaching simply on the basis of being undocumented. I don’t restrict my understanding of God’s revelation to those truths that are in written form.

Accepting Sacred Tradition is as much an act of faith as accepting the family story about my great-great-grandmother’s birth date. It’s actually easier for me to accept Tradition, since those teachings have never been specifically contradicted by written evidence.

My faith, then, is me saying, “yes, I believe this is true because such a belief is reasonable to me.” It’s reasonable for me to believe that my great-great-grandmother’s birth certificate contains an error. It’s even more reasonable for me to accept that Sacred Tradition is, in fact, a true revelation of God.

akamarykate gave me six topics that make sense and one that seems random. But I don’t mind!

Travel — Love it, and don’t get to do enough of it.

When I was in high school, two of my teachers made a point of telling me that I would really benefit from traveling. To this day I haven’t figured out if they were telling me I was far too inexperienced and/or stuck in my own frame of reference and needed my horizons broadened, or if they were telling me they knew I liked learning new things and that travel was a good way to do it. I don’t pretend to have broad horizons, though I do object to the idea that I’m narrow minded.

The problem, more than anything, is money. Travel takes more of it than I often have. This being said, I’d jump at the chance for a job that required a lot of traveling. Thing is, I don’t have the skill set (or the interest in developing the skills) for the kinds of jobs that most often involve heavy travel. So I’ll likely just keep it as a leisure activity.

This being said, I’m still trying to figure out what big trip I’m going to give myself for my 40th birthday. I’ve promised myself something really extra special. I still have a couple of years left to save the money.

Favorite Songs — often depend on my mood and whatever I might have heard on the radio last. I have some favorite artists and favorite genres, and even favorite instruments (I love pianos) but not really any specific favorite songs.

How can you really pick a single favorite song anyway? Not every song is good for every situation. When I’m in traffic in the morning, I need something softer and gentler than when I’m in traffic in the afternoon. When I’m trying to write, I want something entirely different than when I’m trying to clean. And if I’m trying to sing, I’m far more interested in the singability of the song than its genre, composer, etc.

Not to mention that the only times I’ve ever not enjoyed a concert have not been related to the concert itself. And I’ve been to everything from pure classical to seedy C+W bars. Not a lot, but enough to claim a bit of experience in the matter.

Photography — there was a time I thought of turning pro. Now, I’m satisfied to be a talented amateur. One thing I learned when taking the classes at Emory is that I do not like working on assignment. That puts it too mildly, actually; the truth is that I despise it. But that’s part and parcel of being a professional photographer; you take the picture the client wants, not the picture you want to take.

I’m glad I took the classes, though, and still dream of going back and finishing up the two I need to complete the certificate series. I’ve learned a lot, and it has definitely improved my photography. I like knowing what’s going on and being able to apply what I’ve learned. I just want to do it my own way and on my own time.

The classes weren’t cheap, but they were a heck of a lot cheaper than, say, getting a degree in photography only to discover that I prefer being a hobbyist. And it’s still fun to talk picture taking even if you’re “not serious.” I’m serious enough to be appreciated by others who are also into photography, and I love looking at other people’s pictures and listening to their ideas.

Best Place(s) to Write — I’ve found a few here in Atlanta. There’s a Waffle House near where I work that has started to claim me as their “writer girl” (I show up about once a week). There’s a McDonald’s in Roswell with an unusual-for-fast-food ambience that works well for me. There’s a hotel bar down by the airport that I really like, but because it’s expensive and all the way on the other side of town, I don’t get there often.

I like quiet places to write and would enjoy libraries except that they don’t allow food and drink, and while food is optional when I’m writing, I do prefer having something to sip on. The folks at the Waffle House know that I like it when they keep my tea fresh and the McDonald’s allows free refills on the same visit. I also like places that have people but aren’t super-crowded, which rules out a lot of coffee shops for me — the one that I have found, plays the music a bit too loud. Coffee shops often feel like they’re trying too hard anyway.

I wish I could find a place that wasn’t an eatery and would just let me have a glass of water. My waistline does too. For now, though, I just look around for places and when I find one, stick with it.

Twitter — ah, Twitter. I love it for the ease of use. I hate it for encouraging the routine massacring of the English language.

I love it for being able to keep up with people without having to page through reams and reams of writing. I hate it for creating a situation that makes me think in brief thoughts instead of fully developed concepts.

I love it for its versatility and the relative ease with which it integrates with other social media applications. I hate it for taking over the online world.

I guess you could say it’s a love-hate relationship, except that now that I’ve been sucked in to using Twitter, I have no reason to think I’ll stop. I use it in far too many different ways.

Thunderstorms — a couple of years ago I signed off at work by telling a co-worker that there was a thunderstorm coming and I wanted to go outside and stand in it. He thought I was very strange. Why would anyone want to go outside and get wet and windblown?

He had a point, but I love thunderstorms anyway. Given a choice, I’d rather experience them from a place like a porch as opposed to being in them without shelter, but I have so many pleasant memories of thunderstorms that I can barely stand having to stay completely inside for one. That I routinely do it as an adult is primarily a comment about my ability to distract myself.

I’ve been through enough severe weather that I have a healthy respect for thunderstorms and the things that can come with them. That’s actually a part of what makes them so very interesting to me. The weather’s actually making itself known, and the science behind it is relatively easy to comprehend. The thing is, all the science in the world can’t capture the sheer exhilaration of a thunderstorm. That’s one reason I don’t always think about science when I think about weather.

Snack Foods — the less I say about them, the better. I’m addicted, and I’ll admit it. I can even tell you the reasons why.

The first is because of my hyposmia; my severely reduced sense of smell means that I often cannot detect nuances in food. Snack foods tend to be very salty or very sweet. Those are two things I can detect, so it makes the food more “interesting” to my senses. That leaves me liking it more than I like other foods.

The second reason is convenience. When I’m only trying to feed myself, cooking seems like an extraordinary inefficient use of my time. It’s faster to just grab something and go…and snack foods lend themselves to this situation far too easily for safety’s sake.

I’m sure snack food makers are aware of at least the second situation, if not the first. In other words, I’m well aware that I’m the victim of marketers when it comes to my food choices. I’ve been trying to be more aware of that, and have had some success, but at this point snack foods are just too much of a habit for me to completely give them up.

Wow. That was more words than I thought it would be.

I’ve spent some time going through the blog and the site, and discovered that it needs a lot of work in addition to new posts. So, as I begin posting again, I’m also going to be doing things under the hood. Don’t worry; the site itself isn’t changing, and I’m not going to delete or hide my old blog posts.

I’m not entirely sure where I’ll end up going with this, but right now I’m taking an “anything goes” approach until I find my feet again. Suggestions are therefore welcomed!

What one thing have you not done that you really want to do? What’s holding you back?

I have to choose only one? Or is the purpose of this question perhaps to motivate a person into doing just that, as a way of prioritizing?

In that case, I suppose I would select finishing college. I’m coming up on my twentieth high school reunion (not this year, but soon) and in those twenty years that goal has never really quite gone away. There have been several times I’ve chosen not to go back or continue and there was a long period when college didn’t pass a cost-benefit analysis — I wasn’t at all certain I’d increase my income enough to offset the cost of student loan payments.

That last reason went away with my job at Intuit, and that fact is one of the larger reasons I finally decided to go ahead and do it. Life won’t be fun for me financially for the next three to five years, but I’m hoping to come out of it on the other side with a degree.

Money held me back, and I do worry about the student loan payments — but I believe that removing the higher income I’d had has given me a different outlook that may lead to a different outcome. I’ll know in a few years.

Who was the worst boss you’ve ever had? Did you ever get your revenge?

I won’t name names or give specific details; that would be a bad idea for several reasons. But I don’t have trouble identifying my worst boss when asked the question.

A side note before I get started: if you know me “in real life,” you may recognize this person anyway. Please respect both our privacy and refrain from identifying her. She doesn’t deserve that, because I believe she honestly thought she was being a good boss.

That’s right; I’m sympathetic. She had tried for years to have children before finally accepting that she couldn’t. Had she succeeded, her children likely would have been my age — and, following a divorce and remarriage, she did end up with a step-daughter who was born the same year I was…but who was definitely not the daughter she would have imagined. There was a lot of conflict between her and the step-daughter and, while I never was so crass as to ask, I suspect it may have led to no small amount of conflict with her husband as well.

But my sympathy only extends to a point. She tried to mentor me even though I wasn’t particularly interested, and her version of “mentor” meant that she frequently went so far as to try and explicitly (as in, she actually said it) tell me what and hwo to think. Those who know me, know that while I’ll accept being told how to act and will listen when told why I should act that way, I will react extremely negatively toward being told how or what to think.

In addition, this boss frequently made comments about my age, to the point that I considered the environment to be reverse-ageism. She also, after having tangled with her step-daughter or with a problem employee who happened to be about my age, made general comments about how awful my generation was. It drove me up a wall on a regular basis, particularly when she proceeded to accuse me of having a bad attitude because I wouldn’t actively agree with her. (I’m really rather proud of the fact that I only flat-out spoke up in disagreement a handful of times.)

But I managed to stick it out for a while, and it’s a job and an experience I’m not sorry to have had. And we’re both older; she’s now retired, and I’ve moved so far beyond her that I don’t think I ever even could go back. I can also explain why the job itself was a positive experience.

As far as revenge? That’s not my style. I’ve done so well, and improved so much, since that particular job that I consider that all the revenge I need. We didn’t stay in contact after I left that job, but I genuinely hope she’s happy in her retirement — and that she is in a place where she doesn’t have to routinely encounter any generation except her own.

How come the things that make you happy don’t make everyone happy?

Because I’m not everyone; I’m only myself. If everyone were exactly like me, the world wouldn’t just be boring. It would reflect both my strengths and weaknesses at a level that created a skewed and, quite frankly, scary place.

The idea of taking sheer delight in the differences between people and cultures was ingrained in me before I was old enough to walk and talk. I don’t think my parents were wrong to do that; rather the contrary, in fact. As a whole, the people of the world tend to balance each other out in terms of similarities and differences.

I wouldn’t have it any other way. The differences are one of the things that make me happy.

But not for the reasons you might think. I didn’t follow every move via the media, and I haven’t been posting to (or even reading) the many places online where it is under discussion. I’ve simply been checking headlines periodically to see the progress. So I’m not familiar enough with all of the ins and outs of the legal case to be able to guess as to whether Casey is guilty of murder.

I’m far from alone. Nobody else is that familiar either, except for the judge, jury, and perhaps the relatively few trial-watchers who made it into the courthouse every single day.

But according to the Associated Press, some of the reactions have included people accusing the jury of murder, including calling for their arrest, and making death threats. I’d like to believe that those are extreme reactions. But it dismays me to see them happening at all.

The only long-term effect of violence is more violation.

Let me make it clear: based on the bits and pieces I’ve seen in the media, I don’t think Casey Anthony is innocent. But the jury couldn’t declare guilt based on their feelings or Anthony’s character. They had to convict based on firmly established and supported facts — and their decision is that those facts weren’t there.

Some people are saying that this means the system is broken. I claim it as evidence that the system is working perfectly. Our legal system was designed in response to a system that functioned on presumption of guilt unless proven otherwise. A lack of guilt doesn’t necessarily mean innocence; it only means that we don’t punish based on assumed guilt.

This kind of system means that guilty parties sometimes aren’t punished. But the alternative is a system where innocent parties sometimes are. Our system has punished innocent people in the past, up to and including execution. Even one instance is too much, but failures to convict the guilty are more common than convictions of the innocent.

I prefer it that way. So should any other ethical person.

Further, I should note that the protesters are, by definition, basing their opinions on information disseminated by the media. There’s no such thing as an unbiased media source, and as such the facts as reported by the media cannot be the facts as compared to the burden of proof “beyond the shadow of a doubt.”

In other words, the protesters have tried Casey based on media reports, not the facts. Many commentators have noted the concept of “trial by media” before, particularly with high-profile acquittals such as those involving the Rodney King and O.J. Simpson cases. The same thing is happening here, and it dismays me.

Trials are properly conducted in courthouses, not newspapers.

The final thing that dismays me has to do with the common attitude that the death of a child at the hands of his/her parents is shocking and unusual and that those who are guilty of such are highly deviant individuals. I wish that were the case. But unfortunately, child deaths at the hands of their parents are all too common. Conservative estimates suggest it happens once every three days in the United States.

This doesn’t count all of the non-lethal but horrifically damaging incidences of child abuse. In a recent, the abuse has been so bad that the child has seen death as a welcome release. There is ample evidence to show that being a parent does not automatically translate into being protective and nurturing toward one’s children.

The truth is that, while they are loath to admit it, most parents have had destructive thoughts toward their children at some point or another. They don’t want to accept that this is normal. The problem with abusive parents isn’t the way they think or feel; it’s the way they act. Unfortunately, that distinction makes a tremendous difference.

Given that, I can’t help but wonder if the protesters are protesting a little too much. I’d also be interested in hearing how they are helping potential abusers learn how to manage their impulses toward violent behavior or otherwise taking steps to assist with child abuse prevention.

By the time we start discussing trials and convictions, it’s already too late for the child.

That’s something I think has gotten lost in this case. Regardless of reason, regardless of method, regardless of culprit, Caylee Anthony is dead. Nothing anyone does now is going to change that, and the aftermath is just that — an aftermath. It’s not a cause for celebration, even negative celebration; nor is it a cause for protest.

Rather, I would have wished that the situation lead to an increased awareness of the need for prevention. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen that much of that. That, in my estimation, is the final reason for dismay. In the long run, Caylee Anthony’s death may not make any difference.

That’s the true tragedy.

Project URL: http://sonria.org/project/101-in-1001

List: http://sonria.org/blog/2010/day-0-may-15-2010

I fell off the wagon this week, although there was a very good reason: a I got a job, at least for a little while. I actually already had accepted the offer when I made last week’s post, but I wanted to wait until I actually started before making any sort of announcement.

It’s an interesting place to work, and things seem to be going well, but it’s the first time I have worked the pre-8:00 shift since I was 22, which was longer ago than I care to talk about. Adding to the situation, my non-morning-person tendencies had asserted themselves even more strongly during five weeks of unemployment than they had at Intuit, where my base hours were 9-6. So, it’s been an adjustment — although certainly not an unwelcome one!

This being said, a reason is not the same as an excuse, and the reason I’m making a post with bad news is to give myself an incentive to follow up with good news next week.

21. Complete and post a three-item thankful list every day for 180 consecutive days.

Because I started the job, I will go ahead and give myself credit for this week even though I missed (and subsequently made up) two days. But I’m not going to allow myself to get away with it again.

97. Make one substantive blog post per week for 26 consecutive weeks.

I am not, however, going to let myself get away with missing this one due to the presence of WordPress’ delayed-posting feature. So, I’m resetting back to zero — again. This being said, I have a couple of ideas in mind for posts, and a day and a half of weekend left.

101. Post progress each Saturday.

It wasn’t exactly progress, but here’s the post.

Next Update: July 16, 2011