The Vine: February 16, 2005
Oh wise and wonderful Sars,
Here’s my problem:
I work as a paralegal at a large law firm. About ten months ago, “Mandi”
was hired as a receptionist. Since Mandi’s about my age and very outgoing,
we started having lunches together and became friends. Mandi was also in a
paralegal studies program so we talked about the job and her classes. She
wanted to move up in the firm and get a paralegal job. Although Mandi was
very nice and seemed to do well in her classes she was very disorganized,
didn’t listen well, and couldn’t handle too much stress without getting
very upset; I didn’t think she’d make a good paralegal in a firm as busy as
ours. I gently suggested that she might be happier at a smaller, less
active practice (or a different career entirely) but she insisted that once
she was a real paralegal and got out from behind the reception desk she’d
be the epitome of professionalism. I kept my mouth shut after that because
I didn’t really work with her and only knew her socially — a person can be
a flake in her personal life but very good at her job.
About three months ago Mandi was fired. She was chronically late, rude to
secretaries and staff, and even ran around the lobby screaming in front of
some clients after winning concert tickets off the radio (which she
listened to at her desk at a slightly too loud volume). She also slacked
off at her job; at our firm the receptionist does more than just answer the
phones, but Mandi saw her other duties as optional tasks and not mandatory.
Although I knew she was having a few problems (from what she told me), I
generally avoid the office gossip mill, and had no idea there were so many
complaints against her until after she was out the door. She apparently
lied on her resume; she had been fired from her last receptionist job for
similar reasons but said the parting was amicable. Since our friendship
was independent of work, I kept hanging out with her — we have a lot of
similar interests and can sit in a coffee shop for hours talking and
laughing. I tried to be sympathetic to her work woes but I totally agreed
with Human Resources; she was bad at her job.
Mandi’s getting her paralegal certificate in August but is looking for a
paralegal job now. Yesterday, she casually mentions during one of our
chats that she’s been listing me as a work reference. I told her not to
list me anymore and she said she wouldn’t, but she’s already put my name
down on a couple of dozen applications. I know the reason she put me down
as a reference is because she’s been fired from three jobs in less than a
year (she got another receptionist gig right after being fired from my
office but never made it past the six-week performance review) and doesn’t
have any one else. If she had initially asked to use me as a reference on
job applications I would have told her not to; we’ve never actually worked
together and, given her past behavior, I don’t think she’d be good at this
type of job.
Now I’m dreading the phone calls. I don’t want to lie and
give her a good review. It’s a small legal community and I don’t want her
to screw up and drag my name down with her (I love my job and have worked
very hard to build up a good reputation as a hard, intelligent worker. I’m
also planning a career jump next fall and HR people and lawyers have long
memories). I also don’t want to completely trash her to an interviewer;
I’m worried anything negative I saw may get back to Mandi. She’s a good
friend and I don’t want to lose that. Help! What’s a nice, diplomatic way
to deal with this situation?
Work or Play
Dear Don’t Mix,
I’m sure there’s a more “official” protocol for this, but here’s what I’d do — if you get a call about Mandi (which you may not, in the end), just tell the caller that Mandi shouldn’t have listed you as a reference, because you know each other primarily socially, and for that reason you don’t feel comfortable reviewing her job performance either way. “I’m sorry I can’t help you; have a good day.” End the call.
Will interviewers conclude from that that you wouldn’t have given her a glowing reference? Maybe, maybe not, but strictly speaking it isn’t your problem. She shouldn’t have listed you as a reference without asking first, but since she did, this is really the best way to get out of having to comment officially.
Hello!
I have been thinking about getting a kitten (or a
cat). I do however need to make sure the two big bases
are covered before I head off to the shelter and start
playing with the potential canidates.
I have a dog, adopted from the same shelter I’ll
probably get the cat from. They told me she was cat
friendly when I got her, and when I took my dog to my
parent’s house at Christmas she acted somewhere
between indifferent and friendly to the cat there. Any
tips on introducing a cat to a dog home? Most people I
talk to suggest that it is better to own the cat
first, and then get a dog, and I can’t find someone
who has done it the other way around.
Secondly, any tips, tricks, or good resources for
litter box training? I grew up with cats, but wasn’t
the one trying to teach them how to pee in the box.
Thanks!
Hurtin’ for Some Kitty Lovin’
Dear You’ll Be Hurtin’ Once You Get It, Missy,
From what I know of cat/dog interactions, I’d say it’s probably preferable to start with the dog — at least if the cat isn’t an adult. Dogs will acclimate to cats, usually, but it doesn’t go as well in reverse unless the cat hasn’t ever known different, if that makes sense. Anyway, when you get the cat home, keep her separate from the dog for a few days; they can smell each other under the door and get used to that aspect of one another. Then start letting her out for supervised interactions with the dog, a little longer each day. After a couple of weeks, you should be able to leave them alone — sooner if, as you say, your dog isn’t prone to chasing any moving feline in her eyeline.
As for the litter box, just ask at the shelter about the litter training; they’ll know if your prospective cat/kitten knows how to use the box. Usually, their moms teach them how to do that; all the kittens I’ve dealt with knew what the box was for, and how to use it, even if they had a little trouble climbing into it because their legs were too short. Aw.
Anyway. Just ask at the shelter; let them know you’d vastly prefer an already-trained kitten, but if that’s not possible, the staff should be able to give you some tips on box training.
Hey Sars,
So I know your deal is addressing grammar issues and not necessarily all kinds of language issues, but I can’t find a good etymological source for an answer. Maybe you have ideas or an answer.
Why, in English, are there gender-neutral terms for every familial relation except for the aunt/uncle-niece/nephew one, and conversely, no gender-specific term for the offshoot of that relationship, cousin? Child, parent, and sibling are all very useful terms, and the verbal contortions that you have to go through because of this deficit drive me crazy: “My aunt and uncle,” “My male cousin Chris,” et cetera.
Etymologically Confounded
Dear Et Con,
“Aunt” and “uncle” both have Latin roots (although “aunt”‘s relationship to the Latin is more distant and passes through Middle English first), and Latin is a more gendered language than English, in the sense that every single noun has a gender (or no gender, but in Latin, no gender is a gender). On the other hand, “parent” has a much clearer Latin root; the root is just adjectival, so the gender of “parent” is fixed to the noun it modifies. In Latin, not in English. “Sibling” does not seem to have any etymology at all, according to the 11C, except that it first came into use in the twelfth century.
Like a lot of things in English, there is no “why.” It just is. “Nephew” in particular has a fairly muddled history; the 11C is like, “Well, it’s sort of like the Latin, but then there’s also this Sanskrit root, and the Olde English…hell if we know, frankly,” and just does a core dump of all the possible roots and refuses to make a call.
Sorry I can’t be more helpful. But here’s a related factoid for you: both “niece” and “nephew” have secondary definitions as “an illegitimate [child] of an ecclesiastic.” It’s not even listed as obs, which is interesting — how often do we have call to use that meaning in the twenty-first century?
And here’s a totally irrelevant factoid: the 11C credits Dr. Seuss as the sole etymological source of the word “nerd.”
Dear Sars,
I’m writing in hopes of getting a little clarity, and some input from
someone who’ll both tell me the truth, and it won’t hurt me quite so deeply
if I hear from you that I’m being a terrible person — enough to change me,
but not enough to make things as awkward as if I’d heard it from a friend.
So, here’s the story. A bit over a year ago, I met A online, and we got to
talking, hit it off very well. We meet, eventually, and hit it off better.
A decides to come out here to college. A has never lived more than five
miles from her parents, is extremely close to her mother, and is painfully
shy. A grew up in a rural area. “Here” is a good-sized city. Can you see
where this is going?
A comes out, and it’s a good six, seven months later aaaand…A’s not doing
so good. I’m basically her only friend, due to her shyness and what I,
honestly, see as laziness. She won’t join clubs at school, the only other
friends she makes are through me (i.e., my friends, who she sees maybe once
a month anyway) and we don’t have that much in common, I discover. Really
only two topics of conversation. Which we can get a lot of mileage out of,
but kind of downgrades her from “really close friend” to “girl I like to
hang out with from time to time.” Furthur complicating matters — she moved
in downstairs from me (again, because it was easy, and so she could be close
to someone she knows), and we were lovers for a short time, before her very
presence drove me crazy.
A’s still not doing good. She’s not perfect in every class anymore, so
she’s depressed. She’s away from home for the first time in her life, so
she’s depressed. She has no friends because she won’t make them, so she’s
depressed. Sense a pattern? She’s getting help, after her stepmother
arranged someone here to physically come pick her up and take her to a
therapist. This is after she researched the counseling options her college
offers and just…didn’t go.
God, this is long. Heh, I hope it’s at least editable. But, at last, we
come to my problem — I have no compassion for A anymore. I like her okay,
and we still have fun, but I also think she’s lazy, spoiled, and doesn’t see
the incredible advantages and gifts she’s being given. A lot of this is
older child syndrome — I’ve always been good at getting by on my own, and
tend to not really ask for help. Easier to do it myself, and asking for
help means I’m high-maintenance, and we certainly don’t want that. (I may
have some problems of my own.) I’m glad she’s getting help, but I cannot
find it in me to support her anymore. I just want her to grow the fuck up,
and act her age. I’ve been her mother/therapist for too long, and I’m sick
of it. She seems willing to live her entire life without…really living.
She’s unable to deal with anything new or different — small, regional word
differences (think “soda” vs. “pop”) freak her out.
Is this understandable? Do I need to get out of my own fucking head, and
have some compassion for someone who really has an illness they can’t help?
I haven’t told her any of this, for obvious reasons: it would be cruel, she
doesn’t need this now, and I’m not her damn therapist — s/he can figure out
how to tell her all of this, constructively. Is it okay to be angry at
someone who’s so unable to deal with being an adult, even at the age of 24?
I don’t mean the depression — I mean going out, meeting people, going to
school, accepting that everyone is not like her, et cetera.
I want to be sympathetic and compassionate, and I’m going to work on that no
matter what, but the fact that I’m tired of taking care of her, and
listening to her whine and cry and all that — does that make me a terrible
person? Or is it at least understandable?
Thanks for your help,
I’m an anthropologist, not a doctor
Dear Not A Saint, Either,
It’s both. It’s understandable, and I think maybe you need to get out of your own head and stop putting value judgments on A’s behavior. I mean, dealing with a depressed, needy person is frustrating and draining, and I feel you on that — but I’m sensing an anger at her for Doing This To You. Which she isn’t really doing.
I mean, sure, she’s exhausting you and you resent her for it, but her depression is not solely your responsibility, and she’s getting help for it, so, really, if you’re exposing yourself to her in doses that make you angry, that’s on you. It’s fine to be tired of dealing with her narrow worldview, but there’s a pretty simple solution to that — don’t deal with it. You know what she’s like, but you want her to be more like you, and that clearly isn’t happening.
“Well, but she came here because of me, and then I slept with her, and –” Yeah, yeah. Not to be a bitch, but I think you have an exaggerated view of your own importance here. She has a mother; she has a therapist; she’ll live. If you can deal with the occasional hangout and no more than that, then limit her to that and get on with it.
There’s a self-righteous tone in your letter that frankly I can’t get a handle on. Again, I feel you, but I’m not exactly sure what you want me to tell you. She’s having a hard time, and I’m with you on the part where that albatross gets heavy, but your contempt for her…I mean, not everyone is like you, either. She’s not handling herself the way you would — so what? If she’s driving you crazy, tell her how and give her the chance to change it or don’t put yourself in situations where you have to put up with it, but beyond that…I don’t know. You’re taking this too personally. I can’t quite get at why, but you are.
Dear Sars,
I am a freshman in college and I just got out of a seventy-day relationship. Yes, I counted the
days. And I have a feeling that if you have to keep track of the number of hours spent in a
relationship, then it’s not going to last because, as I’ve learned, security doesn’t come in
numerical form.
We went for coffee once, out to lunch, and then after a huge school event he asks to be exclusive
and later that evening I venture to third base for the first time. It was, in my mind, too easy.
He was friendly and gorgeous and interesting and we had a lot of fun. I was used to ages and ages
of obstacles and unrequited love, and here was this perfect kid and the perfect circumstances and
the whole thing is in motion within a month of having met him. Aside from the fact that I had
trouble getting along with his friends and he had a preoccupation with a certain illicit substance
I think should be legalized, things were pretty good.
But, here I am, two months and ten days (plus a little change) later, and it’s over. He felt
idealized, he said. He didn’t want a girlfriend who thought he was perfect. I was insecure. He no
longer feels romantically connected to me. So, yes, maybe I was insecure — I just couldn’t believe
that everything had gone so well and that he was, really, so awesome. I never placed demands on
him, I never forced him to hang out with me or make a commitment to me or anything like that, so
I feel sort of sad that he got all this insecurity from my emotional state (as opposed to, say, me
calling him every five minutes, which is something I would never dream of doing. I was so freaked
about that I hardly called him over break). And even now I’m not angry at him, I’m just really,
wholeheartedly disappointed that things couldn’t have worked out better or at least lasted longer.
My problem, now, is that I can’t stop thinking about him. I didn’t have a period like this before
our relationship at all. I just keep wondering, maybe if we hadn’t had a month-long break, it
would have worked out. Maybe if I had had more confidence, it would have worked out. Maybe if I
had tried harder with his friends, it would have worked out. Because I see him from across the
parking lot or whatever and I’m realizing that there were so many things about him that I didn’t
appreciate while I was dating him and that he never really saw who I was because I was worried
about sharing that. I was having a really horrible day and I saw him and it just completely
flipped the switch and I was crying in the middle of a campus plaza.
I don’t know if getting emotionally involved is worth it. Especially when the other person doesn’t
think there’s an emotional connection. But I’m letting my angst show and I apologize.
I left him a voicemail the day after we broke up about how I didn’t have an anger or resentment
and I thanked him for the good times. I wasn’t really friends with him before we started dating,
and I kind of doubt the healthiness of my trying to be friends with him now. Apparently, he still
thinks I’m an amazing person (he did, in fact, listen to my message) and feels like an ass for
dumping me the way he did (a week of avoidance preceded the actual breakup — immature, yes,
subtle, not so much), but not enough of an ass to get back together. In the same vein, I am,
apparently, not amazing enough to warrant another try, even though I feel like I’ve learned a lot
about myself and my limits from this experience and I could be less mmfeh about the whole thing.
And I keep having dreams about us getting back together, but I really don’t see that happening
because when you’re done with someone, you’re done and I think he’d been working up to being done
for awhile. There were little indications for awhile. I guess the breakup wasn’t a surprise, it
just wasn’t something I actually thought would happen.
So, here are my concerns. What if, Sars, he was the best-looking guy I’ll ever be with? What if he
was the most considerate? What if it’s all downhill from here? I’m taking a a few months to
“enjoy” the single life, but should I even bother finding someone else? Should I try to become
friends with this guy? My friends have been good about taking me out to parties and organizations
and stuff to meet new people, but all of the interactions feel empty compared to what I used to
have. I just don’t know.
Thanks, Sars —
I should probably talk to my mom about this, but she’d just tell me to find a Jewish
pre-med
Dear Don’t Feel Bad, Mine Wants Me To Marry Theo Epstein,
These are normal concerns immediately post-break-up — this is the last boyfriend YOU WILL EVER HAVE. You are consigned to date a series of HOMUNCULI from now on, cave-dwelling chicken-parm-eaters who call you “my old lady” and SMELL LIKE FEET, oh woe, OH WOE.
Been there. Totally normal. The key is not to force it; meeting new people is a good way to distract yourself, but beyond passing the time, don’t worry about it if you’re not that into it. What you want to do is not really care, not worry so much about what kind of guy you “deserve,” and you’re not in a place to do that now.
It sounds to me, from what little you’ve told me, like you do need to work on being yourself more in relationships — not worrying so much about whether you’re calling too often or “placing demands” on the guy. I mean, if a guy can’t deal with an occasional demand or a drunk-dial to let him know you’re thinking about him…what good is it to hold yourself rigid, waiting for the inevitable disaster to strike? Because, honey, take it from someone who’s tried that, it’s miserable and it doesn’t work anyway.
I know that’s not what you asked me, exactly, but it’s pertinent because I think you need to find a way to stop making this all your fault. It didn’t work out, and you’ll learn from it, and you’ll either find love with someone else who digs you for you or you’ll become a Thai-fighting spinster who rides a motorcycle. Or both. Whatever you end up doing with your romantic life, it won’t proceed from one guy’s assessment of you, so don’t try to be something you’re not. If the boys dig it, great. If they don’t, you’re a Thai fighter, enough said.
Tags: boys (and girls) cats friendships grammar workplace
