Rock-Star Job

The Tobacco Prevention Queen gig is kinda like being a rock star: It's very high-profile and you get paid to travel.

I've gotten paid a lot of money to fly across the country to visit my good friend Melanie; twice. We went to great restaurants; I ate West African food for the first time. Melanie spoke French to the waiter. She said that she wasn't completely sure what she told the dude, because her French was a bit rusty—it had been a while since she was in Benin. She said that she either told the waiter that we were sisters or that we were lesbians. Either way, I'm ok with that.

Mel and I also went to several of the Smithsonian museums, including the Museum of Natural History to see the Hope Diamond. I told Mel that we should try and steal it because it would bring out her eyes. But we decided against it because we didn't want to be cursed. We also went to the Air & Space Museum, but Mel said that space stuff was dumb. I recall trying to figure out how to get Zel in an airplane to DC so he could check out the exhibits, sans Mel.

And, I went to this national conference while I was there; twice. But the conference wasn't nearly as exciting as Mel and I sitting on a fancy hotel bed, eating pizza and watching pairs ice skating during the Winter Olympics and yelling “Launch the Bitch!”

I've also gotten paid a lot of money to fly to Chicago—the city I've wanted to visit since the Bears won the Super Bowl in 1985. I was young and influential and they became my team—even in the 90's when they sucked. A good friend of mine and I were traveling to a national conference and we each had to present about the rock star work we'd done in our communities. We decided to ditch the conference one day and we went to the Art Institute. I saw the painting by Seurat that was in Ferris Bueller's Day Off--A Sunday on La Grande Jatte, which was painted in 1884. I bought myself a mug with the painting on it. The thing that I really remember about the painting is that it is massive—it's over 6 feet tall and over 10 feet wide. And, Seurat did everything in what would become pointillism style—lots and lots and lots of little dots. Enough to make your head spin. And, my friend took my picture taken in front of Soilder Field. It was great. And we ate this fabulous dinner at Vermilion. Our goal was to come in under the day's allowance for per diem for that one meal; and we did, but just barely. And we went shopping on Michigan Avenue, which sounds fancy pants, but it's really just walking around downtown Chicago and shopping. And, we went to the top of the Hancock building. It was cheaper than the Sears Tower, and we did have to pay for our own entertainment. And, we went on a sightseeing Chicago River and Lake Michigan architecture boat tour. This is something I wouldn't normally do, because my mother used to make me do things like this and I always hated it. But I'm so glad I did it; the Chicago skyline at dusk is truly stunning.

I've been to Seattle lots of times—I usually have dinner with the Biostatitician and his lovely wife when I'm there. But, we don't do the touristy thing, we do the “hang at the pub and look for fist-shakin-fine women” thing. Well, the Biostatitician and I do; his wife doesn't know about our antics.

But, I'm done with being a Rock Star. I'm off to be an Early Childhood Development Specialist with a Sample Size of One.

No thanks. I'm finished.

I quit my job yesterday.

Actually, I resigned. I'm a grown-up. Grown-ups resign. When you're a teenager working at Carl's Jr., you quit.

Anyway, I'm done being the Tobacco Prevention Queen. No thanks. I'm finished.

I'm done enforcing the laws around smoking related issues. I've written a law where I made it illegal to smoke on county-owned properties, including the fairgrounds. I'm not what you'd call popular out at the fairgrounds. I'm responsible for making sure you don't sell tobacco to minors because it's illegal for minors to smoke. But, I'm not responsible for making sure the kids who smoke get in trouble—that'd be the police. Finally, I'm responsible for making sure that there is no smoking in public places, including within 25 feet of any door, window, or air intake system.

No thanks. I'm finished. The only downside is that people won't respect my authority any more.

I'm done with meetings. Especially the meetings where I want to poke my eyes out with my latte straws. The other day I was in a meeting and my arch-nemesis was knitting. It wasn't the knitting that bothered me—I often times will work on a quilt binding while I'm in a meeting. But, my arch-nemesis was knitting, and she wouldn't shut the goddamn up, and I wanted to poke her eyes out with her knitting needles.

No thanks. I'm finished. The only downside is I won't have too many more opportunities to poke out the eyes of my arch-nemesis.

I'm done with not being on a regular schedule. This is of the up most importance to me because Baby Kaos is on a schedule. Sometimes the poke-you-eyes-out meetings are in the middle of afternoon nap.

No thanks. I'm finished. The upside is I'll be able to take an afternoon nap with Baby Kaos if I wanna.

I'm done with the travel. Before Baby Kaos was born, I was traveling far and wide and often, but that's a blog for another day. And now, I have this overwhelming urge to not leave my baby.

No thanks. I'm finished. I'm done with the rock-star job.

I like to think of it as having a career change: I'm going to be a full-time Early Childhood Developmental Specialist, with a sample size of one.