Today was the last day for the majority of the Indians training with us; they're going back home. Next time we see them we'll be in their country. You could tell they were excited about going home and I can't really blame them.

But what really got me thinking was a couple of remarks made. One was yesterday with a group of about half Americans and half Indians went out to the Olive Garden for lunch. The Indians have been giving gifts to the people working with them for the past week, and one of the women who had been making the biggest fuss about the outsourcing cried when she received hers. The remark was made that it must have humbled her, and another co-worker said "She needed to be humbled."

Now the second one was today when a temp remarked to me that people were complaining about another co-worker who would not shut up about how unfair, ignorant, etc the outsourcing was. The temp said that this co-worker had a right to be upset. And I told the temp that although that was true, it was damaging my morale more to listen to these women (this one and the one mentioned above) than working with the outsourcing people was. And then I got to thinking about this.

Ever since my trainee arrived, just about, I've been furious. Am I furious at the outsourcing company or the trainees? No, I'm mad at my own company, and not for outsourcing my job (well, at least not much) but because of the power plays and political maneuvering going on behind the scenes. The management is making this transition so much harder than it needs to be. If everyone except who really needed to be messing with the project pulled out, then everything would go so much more smoothly. The facility is being shut down. That's final. Why bother using the transition to make a name for yourself now? Why didn't you speak out before, when it might have done some damned good?

And as for the co-workers, yes, I know I did my fair share of complaining but I've come to the realization that bitterness over that isn't going to do me or anyone else any good. And in truth ever since my trainee arrived, and when the people from Corporate were there too, it's been a lot of fun. I've learned a lot of things that I never would have thought about before: for instance, do not ask for brown sugar in India. Turns out that's their slang for cocaine. And it's a relief to talk about something other than how the company is screwing us over, for once!

And I'm going to Corporate headquarters next month,instead of India. And I'm so looking forward to it. I'll be seeing some of my friends from up there and besides, after being down here in Charleston, being in Toledo is always a vacation. Just getting away from all of it helps more than I can explain.

And it's not just work. It's the general damned stupidity down here. I expect West Virginia to explode in race riots any day. It might help if the NAACP and all of those groups would just keep their nose out of things. The latest is about a black man who got shot when he pulled a gun on a white police officer. Now the black community down here is screaming "racism." Excuse me? What the hell did the fool expect, drawing a gun on a cop? And personally I think that if the blacks around here didn't spend so much time living down to their reputation as ignorant sluts, pimps, and drug dealers, maybe there wouldn't be so much racial profiling. I hate to think that this is what Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks and their fellow "freedom fighters" were fighting for.

And before I get crucified for racism, I know that there's just as much white trash as black trash. I just get tired of the race card being played. Yes, there are genuine cases of white police officers picking on blacks because they're blacks. But 90 percent of the time around here, the cop is just doing his/her job.

And I've been on the other end too. In fact, I went out with my friends from Corporate while they were down here, an older black woman and an Indian man who could pass for black if I didn't know he was from India. They got lost on the way to the restaurant we were going to and we stopped at a "coffee house" that is little more than a front for a gambling place. While I was talking to them through their car window, this truck driver looking guy came out and stared at me like I was some kind of trash, or else nuts. And at the restaurant people kept staring at the three of us. I told my Indian friend that they probably thought he was my pimp, which sent him into fits of laughter.

Wow. I've just been rambling on and on. But I needed to get some of these things said.