Adventures in transcription

One of the things I enjoy most about this job is the variety. For the last few days, I've been transcribing a journal that one of the mission trips composed on a trip to a far away place last summer.

I am really enjoying the stories, and today, I realized that I am also rewriting bits of them.

The journal was passed around so that each team member was able to handwrite an entry. I've been reading and interpreting fonts that aren't really of this universe yet. My own handwriting is a challenge;one that has come in handy on occasion. My girls haven't been able to decipher holiday shopping lists for years. whew.



I've been wrapped up in the stories as I've been typing them from scribble to keyboard type, and today, I realized that I may be getting some of the story not quite right. The front desk receptionist and I chipped away at a few of the unintelligible words today, she's an expert- being a sudoko warrior.



There was one word that neither of us could quite get, though, so I asked for some help from one of my staff pals.

The paragraph involved celebration and a crowd and another "c" word. I was able to pull apart all the other words in the grouping except for this one. Dag nabbit. My friend breezed through the paragraph, hesitating only slightly when she got to the mystery "c" word. Her reading was different than my transcription, though. Hmmm.

I gave the journal to another passer-by and asked for a reading of this paragraph and they came up with the same thing. Good guesses for all words and only slight hesitation on my challenge word.

My friend asked me to read what I thought it was and before I had gotten half way through the piece, she had to take a break- catch her breath- put her teeth back into her mouth. Her laughter shook my plants right out of their pots.

Her reading went something like this:We went to a celebration and luncheon this afternoon Our bus pulled into a crowd with costumed dancers, a tent area with chairs, tables and a large crowd gathered to celebrate the young children...

Mine went this way: We attended a celebration and luncheon. This afternoon, our bus pulled into a crowd with Costumgo Dancans, a tent area with chairs, tables and a lance crown gangled to celebrate the young children.

I was wondering a few things as I typed. Who the heck was Costumgo Dancans, and was it a cultural thing to celebrate children with lance crowns and whatever those were, they didn't sound too kid friendly.

My friend rolled her way downstairs to her office and shot off an email to me asking to speak with Costumgo. Funny, very funny. Then, her youngest son called me and asked to speak with Mr. Dancans. I told him to hold while i transferred him to his voicemail and then I hung up.

I've pretty much decided to attach a copy of the original journal with my transcription. That way, the readers can choose whichever version they prefer.

Name tags

I have become a wiz at making the best of what I've got and celebrating the small successes in office university(this is on the job training). This week I learned how to do nametags -kind of. I kind of got ahead of myself and it went to my head a little bit.

Boss was having a meeting and I decided on my own that a real secretary would make name tags. My boss didn't even ask me. I just decided to figure it out.

So, I did. I went to Publisher and said, "Publisher, help me make name tags." An hour later, I was ready to print. While the printer was spitting the newly perfect nametags out, I stopped by my office buddies' office and said something like, " I learned how to make name tags. la la la la la "
They ignored me which should say something about how much faith they have in my announcements.

I picked up my name tags from the printer and there were 12 pages of labels with one name in the left hand upper corner of each page. sigh......

I came back to my desk and tried again. I printed again. 12 more pages came out with 30 Tom Smiths on the first page and 30 Joe Brown on another and .........

I felt defeated. and name tag label paper shy.

So, Jiminy Cricket in my pocket , I made the best of it. I cut out the top left corner tags and then paper clipped them to boss's meeting stuff. Wow. well, almost wow.

By then, the others came by to see the fruit of my announcements and i held up the sheets with the corners cut out. They were able to withold from releasing their amusement. Then I held up the sheets that were full of the same names. This was too much for them to bear.

Here comes boss. "OOOHHHHH Let's show these to Pastor Boss. He'll be so impressed that - la la la You can make nametags!! la la la "

I stepped in front of them and gave him the packets. He looked at the seemingly benign tags and said, "oh. okay." Then one of my "buddies" held up the partially sliced out sheet and the other held up the full sheets. and then he got it. They were laughing so hard I thought they'd need to call for "Cleanup on aisle 5". Obviously, I am not graduating from office university yet.

I went home.
I came back to work the next day.
The story isn't finished.

I came in and one of my buddies was already in, waiting for me. " Oh, Oh, church chick, I've got to tell you this. Boss came in the hallway last night during his meeting clutching the name tags you made for him. He looked panicked and I asked him what was wrong? and he said that when he set up, and put people's names at their places, he decided to , oh, what the heck, go ahead and put his on and realized that they were printed on the wrong side. so the outline would stick, but not the name part."

I turned around and started to go back home when i ran into him. 'Hey, it wasn't anything, we got the publications guy to do it, but struck me funny when I got everything set up after all that you went through to make them, murphy's law not helping you any, and then they were printed on the wrong side."

Well, I'm glad he can laugh about it. Clearly, I've got more name tag practice in store for me.
oh, good grief.

I keep seeing the unfortunate truth

I never said I was or could ever be a real secretary. I was clear about that from the start. In my time here, there have been many, many, many forgiven mistakes. and there have been even more forgiven Melanisms.

It took me forever to figure out the phone. I used stickers, one for each staff member, animals and such to help me know which button was who.

I empathize with and personalize the office equipment. Bizzy is our new copier. She is the Anne Taylor version of Biz, or maybe a sex change was involved somewhere down the line. She is sleek and stylishly black and white. Verynice.

I send out reminder notices and sometimes send out UN-invitations the very next day.

I could keep adding on mistakes, but I've written about many and yet, I am still employeed.

The thing is that I work very hard at getting things right. It is important to me. I'm not a perfectionist by nature, or by genetic marker, but I strive to be better than messy. The truth is that I'm not right angled and i am messy in my thinking, in my work and in my hobbies. I like gardening. What could be messier than that? I like knitting and crocheting. Both are knotty hobbies. I am compelled to write and that flows like a mountainstream over bumpy rocks and silty soil. My nickname Messy Chef is true. Not so much in how I cook, because I like cleaning up as i go, but more in what I cook. None of these "skills" are neat. But all of them are me.

There have been many things going on in church and out of late. I've worked hard to work smart and strong. This week I saw a perfect example of how swimming against our natural current can slam. I planted daffodills and crocuses in front of the church this Fall . I loved it. It balanced out my duties, and gave me peace. I felt lucky that my bosses were open to and allowed me to stretch my job description in this way. I was so careful planting. I watched my lines, and I followed the beds.I spaced bulbs just so. I planted the crocuses in front of the daffs so they, being the early risers, would be seen first. I was careful.

I mulched, fertilized, mulched, mulched,mulched. I tried to keep them down until the last minute hoping they would welcome Easter with their yellow blooms. I knew with Easter late this year, it would never happen, so I shifted my expectations and decided when they bloom, if they bloom, they can act as a reminder to the congregation that Easter is COMING.

The crocuses got the word from Mom Nature to pop up and check out the chill air. One by one they came up and then started to bloom. The daffs weren't far behind. This week the daffs have started to bloom. I stood at the entrance and gave it all a look and what I saw horrified me.

On one side of the door, we have a stream of yellow crocuses and daffodills. On the other side, we have a lovely bed of yellow, white, and purple crocuses and daffodills. They don't match. Not even.

Dagnabit. Criminy!

Next year, I'll add some white and purple color to the other side and add a few where I ran out.
But darn it all. I really tried hard on that. shoot.

This week has been crazy around here. My boss has not spent a minute inside his own head, he's been full of everyone else's troubles. and yet- his sense of humor lives on. It surprises me.

He came in in a rush asking me to google First Baptist Church in smallville. So I did. The map came up, I printed it. I had been working all morning printing forms and envelopes for confirmation. Just as I was printing, he asked me to quick quick look up an artist with an odd name. We googled it, and finally found it. This took only seconds. I wrote down the information for him and reached for the printer to pull off the map. The map had printed on an envelope,so only a fraction of the information was on it. "Oh, Good Grief" I said, and quickly googled First united methodist smallville church in smallville so I could print another map. Nothing came up. He laughed. "You are so funny" he said. I stopped and looked at him. "What is the name again?" He humored me. "First Baptist...." He was smiling.

Good gosh. In the span of 30 seconds, I had completely forgotten and changed denominations. I typed in the right one, put paper in, and printed it. He seemed fine. It was as if I was teasing him, but truth was, I was middle-aging on him. I was four daughters losing my mind- on him. I was time change spring falls forward an hour i cannot afford to lose on him. and it seemed okay.

whew.

After he left, I continued on with my project and promptly printed a lovely confirmation certificate on an envelope. Rats.

Now I will say, in my own defense that there are more multitasking opportunities in this office than most. I love that about the job, but sometimes, my everready runs out, and I print wrong, or change denominations on maps. These are the times I count on forgiveness and hope that the bubblegum and nuts will bail me out.

Oh, sure, they could hire a real secretary, with real secretarial credentials, stamped and embossed. But maybe having someone who befriends the machines and tries harder than Avis to be a safe and comfortable presence in this wild and crazy place is what they need right now. I sure hope so.

Phonetic Trials never ending

It’s almost been a year now. A whole year since I’ve been playing Church Chick at the OK Corral. The instances of my true self slipping through my guise of admin asst are fewer and less often. Usually, its when I’ve had an almost full breath of confidence that something pops up, like today.

If you’ve read my chronicles from the start then you know of my dilemma and angst-ridden experiences with our phone system. Learning curve is pretty big. HUGE, larger than large.
Today I was talking to the financial secretary and we realized that tomorrow I will be here alone. I decided to call one of the other staffers to see if she was coming in and I used the intercom. I pressed her extension button on my phone and spoke. No answer.
“ Hey, I know you are up there, are you working tomorrow?”
no answer.
“ Don’t ignore me, I know you can hear me, now come on. Answer…..”
no answer but-
The Senior Pastor’s door flew open and he literally slid down the hall and caught himself on the doorframe to my office. He spoke to me.
“ I just thought you’d like to know that you aren’t talking to Annie, you are talking to me.”
He smiled and slid away, closing his door with a jingle.

Horrified, I called my oldest daughter. There’s comfort in sharing your horrification with a family member who can be horrified with you. Usually it works the other way around, daughter seeking out Mother, but since I’ve entered the grown up work world, the split is pretty evenly divided. “Mom! I can’t believe you did that! Was he mad?”
Was he mad? I thought to myself.. ruminated… considered…. Processed…pasteurized.. and then a happy thought came to my awareness. I shared it with my concerned daughter.

“Oh! You know what? He had a funny smile on his face, well, he had an unusual expression on his face when he slid over and I bet he was thinking, … "This kind of phonetic frenzy hasn’t happened in a while. Maybe that’s progress….”

My daughter sat in silence, then I heard her breathe again. “ Well, usually it works the other way around, mom. I mean like You notice things running smoothly, and comment on THAT. Instead of putting out a fire and realizing you are using fewer extinguishers than you used to. But if that works for you, I’ll be happy for you, and congratulate your improvements.” “Come to think of it, I haven’t heard you mention as many intercom-calamities of late. Gosh, I think that IS improvement.”

We hung up and I walked out into the hallway, just in time to see the Pastor’s door open. Two lovely young people came out, arm in arm. The young couple walked cautiously, their eyes shifting slightly from side to side. “Hi!” I offered as they passed by. I noticed a short pause in their stride which I took later to mean they recognized my voice as being the one who was screaming at them through the Pastor’s phone speaker just minutes earlier.

They scootched a little closer and walked in tandem out the front door of the church never looking back.
I turned to go back into my office .The kind and forgiving Pastor stood at my door holding thumbs up and smiling. He is such a supportive boss. It amazes me. After the positive reinforcement, he squeezed his eyes together in pursed lip silent prayer. He then tilted his head and said to the chilled hallway air, “ They MIGHT still join . Yeah. They might.”

Improvement takes many forms, I guess. I hope they don’t take my phone privileges away. I can do even better, I’m sure of it.

Church Chick