I've decided to discuss my last few days, which have been... oddly satisfying and disconcerting, all in one.
Thursday - work until I feel the need to go to bed for the night. A) that's late and B) that's too late to be working. I had to skip a lovely outing I'd looked forward to all week because of all the work. Boo to work.
Friday - get up much earlier than usual and go back to work. Work until I feel the need to eat dinner. The bf beats me to my house for our usual weekend ritual of yummy Indian food. (This is a huge shocker, because he's almost always the one with the later time schedule, forcing me to wait on his sorry ass.) After a lovely glass of wine and like two bites of dinner (not hungry after all the work, I guess?), we head over to the Chandi's and drink more wine. It was lovely until one part of the Chandi decided to go to bed early to be up for her early morning run (hmph - marathoners are really, really annoying). Sorry B but it's true!
Saturday - um... was there a Saturday? I have no memory of it.
Sunday - drove over to SJM's old house for the last time *sigh* and managed to steal the female half of the duo for a lovely trip to Target. As payback, I helped unpack at the new house and realized that there is such a thing as too much vinegar.
Monday - Worked so frantically I forgot to eat food. If you know me at all, you know that is incredibly unlikely. Got out THE WORK PRODUCT of the century about 4:45 Monday afternoon. Had wishes and needs crushed by big boss soon thereafter. Still proud of THE WORK PRODUCT of the century though.
Tuesday - Got to work absurdly early to attend hearing related to THE WORK PRODUCT of the century. Hearing supposed to be done by lunch, ends up going until 4 where, wishes and needs reinvigorated when THE WORK PRODUCT of the century gets mentioned and although I couldn't see the other side, I'm fairly certain heads snapped and eyes agogged. Oh and the hearing went exactly the way our side wanted it to. Bad guys defeated! Went back to work and stayed long enough to hear that THE WORK PRODUCT of the century is officially THE WORK PRODUCT of the century. It's not just in my head. And the guy in our other office who doesn't even know your name if you don't have cocknballs? Yeah, he called THE WORK PRODUCT of the century aggressive. In a good way. While it was cool, it was weird, because what do I care what he thinks? Conundrum. Oh yeah, drank wine and have carpet picnic with the girls. Missed Barack and fell asleep before I could finish hearing what Keith O. thought about it. Sad.
Wednesday (today) - Am confused that it's not Thursday all day. Receive accolades in the form of an ALL CAPS! email, a few phone calls, and a news article that gets it all wrong for THE WORK PRODUCT of the year. Decide to cut the workload considerably post 4 o'clock, hence the current post.
It's been a good few days and oh my god do I need a nap. And quite possibly a trophy.
Showing posts with label delete if work finds blog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label delete if work finds blog. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Random Office Place Fears...
#1. Being the only person in a smelly bathroom and having other people come in, thinking it was you who made said bathroom smelly.
#2. Scarfing down soup right before a big meeting (because you're such a busy, worker bee) and having something in your teeth the entire meeting.
#3. Spilling your giant bottle of water/cup of coffee/can of diet soda all over original documents.
#4. Having your doctor's nurse call you back while your office is full of people.
#5. Attempting to move the wires to a computer in front of a big inter-office meeting (in a skirt) and falling on your face in the process.
#6. Spilling part of your South Beach peanut butter protein bar on your office chair, attempting to mop it up with lots of water and napkins, and leaving a big, wet spot on your chair that never, ever dries making it look like you peed your chair.
#7. This one needs a preamble: So let's say you dressed quickly in the morning and only as you were getting ready to leave did you notice that the lining for your skirt and/or dress was inching out under your hem (damn shrinkage). You decide to pin up the portion of the lining that's sticking out only you can't find any pins. Starting to panic, because you're already late, you notice a stack of fake, trashy clip-on earrings from a recent Halloween costume. Now on the fear - you are presenting a very important issue in front of a boss you really want to impress and when you stand up, random earring bits start to fall from under your dress.
#8. Scratching your nose when someone walks by your office and looks in mistaking your scratch for a pick.
#9. Accidentally calling your boss a douchebag. To his face.
#10. That someone might actually ask you about all the fancy books you put on your bookshelf but have never really read.
Absolutely none of these happened to me.
#2. Scarfing down soup right before a big meeting (because you're such a busy, worker bee) and having something in your teeth the entire meeting.
#3. Spilling your giant bottle of water/cup of coffee/can of diet soda all over original documents.
#4. Having your doctor's nurse call you back while your office is full of people.
#5. Attempting to move the wires to a computer in front of a big inter-office meeting (in a skirt) and falling on your face in the process.
#6. Spilling part of your South Beach peanut butter protein bar on your office chair, attempting to mop it up with lots of water and napkins, and leaving a big, wet spot on your chair that never, ever dries making it look like you peed your chair.
#7. This one needs a preamble: So let's say you dressed quickly in the morning and only as you were getting ready to leave did you notice that the lining for your skirt and/or dress was inching out under your hem (damn shrinkage). You decide to pin up the portion of the lining that's sticking out only you can't find any pins. Starting to panic, because you're already late, you notice a stack of fake, trashy clip-on earrings from a recent Halloween costume. Now on the fear - you are presenting a very important issue in front of a boss you really want to impress and when you stand up, random earring bits start to fall from under your dress.
#8. Scratching your nose when someone walks by your office and looks in mistaking your scratch for a pick.
#9. Accidentally calling your boss a douchebag. To his face.
#10. That someone might actually ask you about all the fancy books you put on your bookshelf but have never really read.
Absolutely none of these happened to me.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
6 Random things about me...
1. I absolutely CANNOT deal with talking about normal, bodily functions. Although I like to think I hide it well, I get as embarassed as the time I heard my mom talking about sex with my dad. I also think one should whisper when discussing such things so one will not be overheard.
2. Making lists and parenthetical references are seriously some of my best/worst writing habits. Take your pick. (FYI, I used the word seriously waay before Grey's Anatomy became popular.)
3. I am afraid to put my blog on my facebook page for fear that one of my facebook friends (or people I used to know 10+ years ago) or family members might see it and realize I'd been writing about them every now and again. Oops. Must compartmentalize.
4. I never use up anything, ever. I always throw it away when it's almost completely empty because I can't wait to open the new thing (i.e. lotions, shampoo, hair products, etc.).
5. I got in another person's argument over the validity of Kanye West at a New Year's Eve party and I cannot. let. it. go.
6. I can tell you the number of stairs in almost any building I frequent. My house? 14. The boy's apartment? 44 (actually it's 43 but I add a fake 44th step because you can't have an odd number of steps or the building will fall down). Parking garage at work? 20 (technically 21 if you count the first step/landing thing but I don't count it because, again, odd numbered stairs make the building come crumbling down). Stairwell at work? 11 for each staircase and there are 2 staircases per flight, so 22.
I'm tagging Blondie at PinkHondaCivic and LK at Pieces on the Ground. My tagger was blooming wildflowers.
The guidelines: Link to your tagger, share 6 random things about yourself, tag a few others (be sure to tell them). And of course, post the rules.
2. Making lists and parenthetical references are seriously some of my best/worst writing habits. Take your pick. (FYI, I used the word seriously waay before Grey's Anatomy became popular.)
3. I am afraid to put my blog on my facebook page for fear that one of my facebook friends (or people I used to know 10+ years ago) or family members might see it and realize I'd been writing about them every now and again. Oops. Must compartmentalize.
4. I never use up anything, ever. I always throw it away when it's almost completely empty because I can't wait to open the new thing (i.e. lotions, shampoo, hair products, etc.).
5. I got in another person's argument over the validity of Kanye West at a New Year's Eve party and I cannot. let. it. go.
6. I can tell you the number of stairs in almost any building I frequent. My house? 14. The boy's apartment? 44 (actually it's 43 but I add a fake 44th step because you can't have an odd number of steps or the building will fall down). Parking garage at work? 20 (technically 21 if you count the first step/landing thing but I don't count it because, again, odd numbered stairs make the building come crumbling down). Stairwell at work? 11 for each staircase and there are 2 staircases per flight, so 22.
I'm tagging Blondie at PinkHondaCivic and LK at Pieces on the Ground. My tagger was blooming wildflowers.
The guidelines: Link to your tagger, share 6 random things about yourself, tag a few others (be sure to tell them). And of course, post the rules.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
2 weeks off?
If only I had a good excuse for not posting for two weeks. Something like vacation or dreamy days spent in fruity drink bliss. Unfortunately I've been too busy with work to post. How's that for shitty excuses?
I do have a few thoughts I think worth noting:
1) I did not like HP 7 after I first read it. As a matter of fact, it was the only HP book I didn't immediately (or thereafter) re-read. It remained on the shelf as the the one book I read once and put away. Frankly, I was mad at it. I didn't want the series to end - how do I describe my love for HP? - and this was the last book. So I took my anger out on the book itself. But in the last two weeks I've had quite a few hours to kill while driving from city to city (Texas is big, y'all), and the only book on tape I had on my iPod that I hadn't listened to was the last HP book. I gave in and let Jim Dale weave his magic and guess what? I like HP 7 now. I really like it. It's not as good when the kids aren't at Hogwarts, but it made me cry more times than I care to admit and that's usually a sign of a good book. I no longer have an angry, little knot in the bottom of my stomach when I think about Book 7. And actually, I think I might pick it up and give it another read sometime soon.
2) AUX inputs rock soooo much better than FM adapters. One of the best things about my new car, besides the obvious new car stuff, is the AUX input thing. I can listen to my iPod straight now, without any static or changing of FM channels. It it seriously awesome.
3) It recently came to my attention that non-Texans don't realize what "Don't Mess with Texas" really means. It's an anti-litter campaign. Although everything is bigger (and better) here, we don't actually create advertising campaigns strictly to shove it in other states' faces that we think we're better/tougher/etc. than everyone else. We're just anti-litter because we have so many freakin' roads to clean up.
4) Speaking of litter, throwing a cigarette butt out a car window is littering. I wish citizens' arrests were allowed for littering, because I'd be issuing those buggers all the damn time.
5) I can't think of any American sayings that people actually use. My friend is going to London next week and she's been talking a lot recently with her British friend, who apparently uses a lot of slang that we've never heard of. Accordingly, she's trying to think of American slang that doesn't cross the pond on a regular basis. All the slang I thought of used illicit words but apparently we all use those phrases. I was no help and the only things she came up with were phrases I've never heard anyone actually use, like snug as a bug in a rug. Who says that? Children's books maybe. But real people? Any thoughts on ways to mystify the English? I'm up for any suggestions.
6) ACORN has gotten a raw deal lately. I don't understand shadowing a non-profit organization with clouds of "quasi-criminal" activity (direct quote from stupid Repub chairman) if you don't have actual proof of it and especially when there is evidence that partisan groups (ahem) did some falsifying to create controversy. (See Washington Post and The Guardian for further stories.)
7) No one knows who Holly Golightly is. Go figure.
8) I learned something from Gossip Girl last night: there's an author named George San out there somewhere that someone thinks is worth reading. I haven't bothered to figure out who that is or what she wrote (I think it's a she), but don't ever say you can't learn something from television.
9) When traveling, Keith Olbermann is an excellent source of comfort. When one's world is topsy-turvy and one is rolling in the muck of liars and thieves, it's nice to know there's always someone there to be outraged for you, even if his topic is politics and yours is not. It's still nice to know that at 8/7c you can hear someone else yelling in the room for a change.
10) I'm a total bitch. I knew it before but I'm owning it now. Out of a room full of women, I'm the only one who wasn't being passive-agressive. I was just being agressive-agressive, which apparently leads to the older (and more powerful) men in the room being proud of you - didn't need their approval but it's nice nonetheless, especially when they're technically the big bosses.
I do have a few thoughts I think worth noting:
1) I did not like HP 7 after I first read it. As a matter of fact, it was the only HP book I didn't immediately (or thereafter) re-read. It remained on the shelf as the the one book I read once and put away. Frankly, I was mad at it. I didn't want the series to end - how do I describe my love for HP? - and this was the last book. So I took my anger out on the book itself. But in the last two weeks I've had quite a few hours to kill while driving from city to city (Texas is big, y'all), and the only book on tape I had on my iPod that I hadn't listened to was the last HP book. I gave in and let Jim Dale weave his magic and guess what? I like HP 7 now. I really like it. It's not as good when the kids aren't at Hogwarts, but it made me cry more times than I care to admit and that's usually a sign of a good book. I no longer have an angry, little knot in the bottom of my stomach when I think about Book 7. And actually, I think I might pick it up and give it another read sometime soon.
2) AUX inputs rock soooo much better than FM adapters. One of the best things about my new car, besides the obvious new car stuff, is the AUX input thing. I can listen to my iPod straight now, without any static or changing of FM channels. It it seriously awesome.
3) It recently came to my attention that non-Texans don't realize what "Don't Mess with Texas" really means. It's an anti-litter campaign. Although everything is bigger (and better) here, we don't actually create advertising campaigns strictly to shove it in other states' faces that we think we're better/tougher/etc. than everyone else. We're just anti-litter because we have so many freakin' roads to clean up.
4) Speaking of litter, throwing a cigarette butt out a car window is littering. I wish citizens' arrests were allowed for littering, because I'd be issuing those buggers all the damn time.
5) I can't think of any American sayings that people actually use. My friend is going to London next week and she's been talking a lot recently with her British friend, who apparently uses a lot of slang that we've never heard of. Accordingly, she's trying to think of American slang that doesn't cross the pond on a regular basis. All the slang I thought of used illicit words but apparently we all use those phrases. I was no help and the only things she came up with were phrases I've never heard anyone actually use, like snug as a bug in a rug. Who says that? Children's books maybe. But real people? Any thoughts on ways to mystify the English? I'm up for any suggestions.
6) ACORN has gotten a raw deal lately. I don't understand shadowing a non-profit organization with clouds of "quasi-criminal" activity (direct quote from stupid Repub chairman) if you don't have actual proof of it and especially when there is evidence that partisan groups (ahem) did some falsifying to create controversy. (See Washington Post and The Guardian for further stories.)
7) No one knows who Holly Golightly is. Go figure.
8) I learned something from Gossip Girl last night: there's an author named George San out there somewhere that someone thinks is worth reading. I haven't bothered to figure out who that is or what she wrote (I think it's a she), but don't ever say you can't learn something from television.
9) When traveling, Keith Olbermann is an excellent source of comfort. When one's world is topsy-turvy and one is rolling in the muck of liars and thieves, it's nice to know there's always someone there to be outraged for you, even if his topic is politics and yours is not. It's still nice to know that at 8/7c you can hear someone else yelling in the room for a change.
10) I'm a total bitch. I knew it before but I'm owning it now. Out of a room full of women, I'm the only one who wasn't being passive-agressive. I was just being agressive-agressive, which apparently leads to the older (and more powerful) men in the room being proud of you - didn't need their approval but it's nice nonetheless, especially when they're technically the big bosses.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Daily Pointers, yo.
1. Axe Body Spray does not cover up the smell of personal filth (i.e. funk and body odor).
2. Girls do not automatically want to put band-aids on people just because they're girls.
3. Pensises do not actually get larger when a man holds a drill. They might technically get smaller. (Shrinkage through comparison, you see.)
4. Just because your decision was quick does not make it not stupid.
5. A Cubs baseball game will always look like a blooper reel.
6. Volunteering for more work sometimes means you'll really get more work.
7. A step back is not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes you can get a better sense of the big picture and focus on what's really important (like your crazy, brilliant ideas and talents that got you started in the first place).
8. Halloween costumes lose their luster when worn all day at work, in the evening trick-or-treating, and at night for the big shindig.
9. Throwing your legs up over your ass only works when your ass isn't the size of a small national forest. (Pilates instructors should really know this.)
10. I should really be allowed to make all decisions everywhere. Or else run my own hugely-popular think tank. I'm open for either suggestion although I'm partial to the think tank.
2. Girls do not automatically want to put band-aids on people just because they're girls.
3. Pensises do not actually get larger when a man holds a drill. They might technically get smaller. (Shrinkage through comparison, you see.)
4. Just because your decision was quick does not make it not stupid.
5. A Cubs baseball game will always look like a blooper reel.
6. Volunteering for more work sometimes means you'll really get more work.
7. A step back is not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes you can get a better sense of the big picture and focus on what's really important (like your crazy, brilliant ideas and talents that got you started in the first place).
8. Halloween costumes lose their luster when worn all day at work, in the evening trick-or-treating, and at night for the big shindig.
9. Throwing your legs up over your ass only works when your ass isn't the size of a small national forest. (Pilates instructors should really know this.)
10. I should really be allowed to make all decisions everywhere. Or else run my own hugely-popular think tank. I'm open for either suggestion although I'm partial to the think tank.
Friday, September 12, 2008
*sniffle* I'm the biggest sports nerd.
There's a new female attorney in my office who plays fantasy football. That fact aside, I like her a lot. (I'm opposed to all fantasy sport leagues. I think it takes away from the team aspect of the game although I'm very familiar with the pros, so don't lecture me.)
We were at a work conference this week and one of my male co-workers (whom I've wrote about in the past, ahem, pesos jackass) described the her as "probably the girl in the office with the most sports knowledge." I've spoken with this male co-worker (who I'll refer to as Jackass Yankees Fan or JYF) on a few different occasions about baseball. JYF assumes I know nothing because a) I'm a "girl" and b) I'm not a JYF. Um, dude? MY team's 3 games out. Your team is in shambles. Let's talk next season, kay? He's never once brought up the subject of football or basketball or any other sport for that matter. He never even discussed the Olympics with me, which we all know I was all over.
So how does he know the new woman has the most sports know-how? It's obviously an unresearched statement, at best and a downright fabrication at worst.
I know it seems petty to obsess over something so slight but as any woman sports fan can tell you, random baseball and/or football conversations are few and far between, at least as compared to our male counterparts. Of course the bf and I can discuss until we're blue in the face (although his baseball knowledge, which he touted when we first started dating, is seriously lacking - is this what "fraud" means in those weirdo annulments?) but what about the watercooler? I keep up with a lot of the breaking sports news through my online connection to the world (i.e. my computer at work), and I can only call the bf randomly during the day so many times.
It's like JM and S (hello!), two of my very good friends who are dating. Neither JM (the man) nor S (the woman) are seriously into sports but S is very enthusiastic. And JM constantly makes fun of her for getting excited when we watch a sporting event together, which is completely odd to me because why wouldn't you get excited when someone's scoring a touchdown, swimming a race, hitting an ace, or knocking one out of the ballpark? If S were a guy (all oddities in the scenario removed of course), would JM make fun of her/him for being excited about sports even if he/she admitted he/she didn't watch all the time? Of course there's the whole bf/gf dynamic I'm overlooking but I'm trying to illustrate a point.
What this all comes down to is that I want to be the woman in the office (not the girl - I won't even get into the naked misogynist undertones of JYF referring to the new co-worker as a girl) who knows the most about sports. I'm willing to go head-to-head in a little sports trivia with the new co-worker to earn the title, although I'm not sure she'd be willing as she doesn't label herself as a sports afficiando, and hell, I'm willing to go head-to-head with the men in my office too. I bet a million dollars I'd be in the top 10%, especially if the trivia involved actual, present-day strategies, rules, regulations, players, etc. I love the sports trivia person who can name every Heisman trophy winner but can't tell me the ins and outs of small ball play. (I'm looking at you bf.)
On a related note, the 'Stros are 3 games out!! I will admit I had no confidence. I was wrong. Go Astros, Go!*
*I can only hope Ike doesn't ruin their winning streak since they have to postpone at least 2 games against the Cubs (who the swept last series) due to sheer freaks of nature. And for those that care, I doubt my town will even see a drop of rain, much like the great Rita Dustbowl of 2005. Although I am moving my new car in a parking garage tonight, just in case the trees of never-ending falling branches at my house decide to multiply, like they did a few months ago with the old car.
We were at a work conference this week and one of my male co-workers (whom I've wrote about in the past, ahem, pesos jackass) described the her as "probably the girl in the office with the most sports knowledge." I've spoken with this male co-worker (who I'll refer to as Jackass Yankees Fan or JYF) on a few different occasions about baseball. JYF assumes I know nothing because a) I'm a "girl" and b) I'm not a JYF. Um, dude? MY team's 3 games out. Your team is in shambles. Let's talk next season, kay? He's never once brought up the subject of football or basketball or any other sport for that matter. He never even discussed the Olympics with me, which we all know I was all over.
So how does he know the new woman has the most sports know-how? It's obviously an unresearched statement, at best and a downright fabrication at worst.
I know it seems petty to obsess over something so slight but as any woman sports fan can tell you, random baseball and/or football conversations are few and far between, at least as compared to our male counterparts. Of course the bf and I can discuss until we're blue in the face (although his baseball knowledge, which he touted when we first started dating, is seriously lacking - is this what "fraud" means in those weirdo annulments?) but what about the watercooler? I keep up with a lot of the breaking sports news through my online connection to the world (i.e. my computer at work), and I can only call the bf randomly during the day so many times.
It's like JM and S (hello!), two of my very good friends who are dating. Neither JM (the man) nor S (the woman) are seriously into sports but S is very enthusiastic. And JM constantly makes fun of her for getting excited when we watch a sporting event together, which is completely odd to me because why wouldn't you get excited when someone's scoring a touchdown, swimming a race, hitting an ace, or knocking one out of the ballpark? If S were a guy (all oddities in the scenario removed of course), would JM make fun of her/him for being excited about sports even if he/she admitted he/she didn't watch all the time? Of course there's the whole bf/gf dynamic I'm overlooking but I'm trying to illustrate a point.
What this all comes down to is that I want to be the woman in the office (not the girl - I won't even get into the naked misogynist undertones of JYF referring to the new co-worker as a girl) who knows the most about sports. I'm willing to go head-to-head in a little sports trivia with the new co-worker to earn the title, although I'm not sure she'd be willing as she doesn't label herself as a sports afficiando, and hell, I'm willing to go head-to-head with the men in my office too. I bet a million dollars I'd be in the top 10%, especially if the trivia involved actual, present-day strategies, rules, regulations, players, etc. I love the sports trivia person who can name every Heisman trophy winner but can't tell me the ins and outs of small ball play. (I'm looking at you bf.)
On a related note, the 'Stros are 3 games out!! I will admit I had no confidence. I was wrong. Go Astros, Go!*
*I can only hope Ike doesn't ruin their winning streak since they have to postpone at least 2 games against the Cubs (who the swept last series) due to sheer freaks of nature. And for those that care, I doubt my town will even see a drop of rain, much like the great Rita Dustbowl of 2005. Although I am moving my new car in a parking garage tonight, just in case the trees of never-ending falling branches at my house decide to multiply, like they did a few months ago with the old car.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
And then there was meat.
The meat story.
Guy called me at work seeking out some phone numbers and addresses. I went to a government agency's website and gave them to him (all stuff he could have done himself, which is not to say I wasn't happy to help but to signify how slight the help I gave him was).
A few days later an Admin walks in my office and tells me she has a package for me but can't open it and can she borrow my scissors? I hand them to her, she perches the package on the edge of my desk as she cuts into the the thing, starts to reach in the envelope, starts giggling (which made me look up from my oh-so-busy-and-time-consuming spreadsheet), and begins to pull out what I was certain was a ziploc bag full of black hair.
Upon further examination, which was difficult given that I'd slammed my chair (and myself) far across my office to get away from the bag of hair, we realized it was not hair but was, instead, some form of dried meat product.
My loud use of words and phrases (i.e. "what the fuck!" and "who the fuck sends shit like that in the mail?") attracted another co-worker to my office. When he realized it was a bag 'o meat, he reached his hand in, grabbed a hunk, tore into it like the savage beast (read: stupid) we all knew he was, and said "tasty" right before he walked back down the hall with the remaining hunk still clutched between his clammy, dumb hands. (Hands can be stupid - see: hands of a person who take random meat products out of unknown packages and feed them to said person's stupid mouth.)
There was a note inside that said the "meat" was homemade and thanks for helping aforementioned guy. But no notice as to what kind of meat product it was. The guy was from Arkansas and while I hate to be state-ist, who knows what they turn into edible products over there? Now I'm assuming it was a beef jerky of sorts but I have no way of knowing for sure.
Oh and did I mention that I don't eat beef? And just an fyi, although I wouldn't classify my job as dangerous, more than once my name or other people at my office's name has come up in correspondence to and from jail cells. Just saying.
Luckily the dumb co-worker didn't die. Luckily my office can't accept gifts. Luckily there's a homeless guy who hangs out right around the corner from my building. Luckily he was there, that fate meat day, and luckily he accepted my offer or dried meat product.
Long story short: grossest fucking day ever.
Guy called me at work seeking out some phone numbers and addresses. I went to a government agency's website and gave them to him (all stuff he could have done himself, which is not to say I wasn't happy to help but to signify how slight the help I gave him was).
A few days later an Admin walks in my office and tells me she has a package for me but can't open it and can she borrow my scissors? I hand them to her, she perches the package on the edge of my desk as she cuts into the the thing, starts to reach in the envelope, starts giggling (which made me look up from my oh-so-busy-and-time-consuming spreadsheet), and begins to pull out what I was certain was a ziploc bag full of black hair.
Upon further examination, which was difficult given that I'd slammed my chair (and myself) far across my office to get away from the bag of hair, we realized it was not hair but was, instead, some form of dried meat product.
My loud use of words and phrases (i.e. "what the fuck!" and "who the fuck sends shit like that in the mail?") attracted another co-worker to my office. When he realized it was a bag 'o meat, he reached his hand in, grabbed a hunk, tore into it like the savage beast (read: stupid) we all knew he was, and said "tasty" right before he walked back down the hall with the remaining hunk still clutched between his clammy, dumb hands. (Hands can be stupid - see: hands of a person who take random meat products out of unknown packages and feed them to said person's stupid mouth.)
There was a note inside that said the "meat" was homemade and thanks for helping aforementioned guy. But no notice as to what kind of meat product it was. The guy was from Arkansas and while I hate to be state-ist, who knows what they turn into edible products over there? Now I'm assuming it was a beef jerky of sorts but I have no way of knowing for sure.
Oh and did I mention that I don't eat beef? And just an fyi, although I wouldn't classify my job as dangerous, more than once my name or other people at my office's name has come up in correspondence to and from jail cells. Just saying.
Luckily the dumb co-worker didn't die. Luckily my office can't accept gifts. Luckily there's a homeless guy who hangs out right around the corner from my building. Luckily he was there, that fate meat day, and luckily he accepted my offer or dried meat product.
Long story short: grossest fucking day ever.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Pet Peeves, Issue #435,598
Pet Peeve: Guys who think they know better than girls because the topic is a "guy" type of topic, or better yet, because they have a penis.
Scenario: I'm in the elevator at work when two of my guy co-workers jump in. We all say hello, exchange pleasantries, etc. They continue on with their conversation re: money in Mexico (for one of the guy's upcoming vacation). I jump in the coversation - and while I'll admit that maybe is a bit impolite, these are two coworkers I'm very comfortable with and have lunch with - and mention that the dollar goes over better than the peso in Mexico in most places. Jackass coworker #1 says that if you throw a 10 peso at a person for a tip, they'll flip out and give you the best service ever. I laughed out loud and said that I was certain he'd get a better response from people if he tipped with dollars or at least more pesos than that. (I mean 10? Hello? That's $1.) They both looked at me and jackass #1 said "just give them a 10 peso," in a manner that strongly suggested I did not know of which I was speaking. And then they promptly went back to talking and completely ignored me the rest of the elevator ride and the walk through our floor as we were all going back to our offices.
I am a bit beyond pissed. In my grand, old age I'm beginning to have less desire to rein in my anger than perhaps I did when I used to run into situations like this frequently: in law school. In law school I would be so taken aback by such blatant behavior that I'd spend my time shocked that the situation was occuring. Then I learned to stop being shocked by bad behavior because it was inhibiting my ability to react. That's not to say I did anything more in this particular elevator. I didn't. I stood quietly as my opinions were derided because I was a girl and therefore couldn't possibly know anything about money. (Did I mention we work in a finance-related field?) Hence the livid anger. But! I was not shocked at the behavior and I knew exactly what was happening as it happened.
And don't worry. I'll have my revenge. I'm completely vindictive and passive-aggressive at work (when I'm not being aggressive-aggressive), and Jackass #1 will pay, most likely in a large group of our peers. The best payback is public payback.
Oh and again - hello? Do you know anyone, Mexico or not, that would bend over backwards for you for a $1 tip? I don't think so. It's not like they have no concept of money in Mexico. They know very well how much a $1 is. And they especially know how little 10 pesos are. So give me a goddamned break, jackass coworker #1.
Scenario: I'm in the elevator at work when two of my guy co-workers jump in. We all say hello, exchange pleasantries, etc. They continue on with their conversation re: money in Mexico (for one of the guy's upcoming vacation). I jump in the coversation - and while I'll admit that maybe is a bit impolite, these are two coworkers I'm very comfortable with and have lunch with - and mention that the dollar goes over better than the peso in Mexico in most places. Jackass coworker #1 says that if you throw a 10 peso at a person for a tip, they'll flip out and give you the best service ever. I laughed out loud and said that I was certain he'd get a better response from people if he tipped with dollars or at least more pesos than that. (I mean 10? Hello? That's $1.) They both looked at me and jackass #1 said "just give them a 10 peso," in a manner that strongly suggested I did not know of which I was speaking. And then they promptly went back to talking and completely ignored me the rest of the elevator ride and the walk through our floor as we were all going back to our offices.
I am a bit beyond pissed. In my grand, old age I'm beginning to have less desire to rein in my anger than perhaps I did when I used to run into situations like this frequently: in law school. In law school I would be so taken aback by such blatant behavior that I'd spend my time shocked that the situation was occuring. Then I learned to stop being shocked by bad behavior because it was inhibiting my ability to react. That's not to say I did anything more in this particular elevator. I didn't. I stood quietly as my opinions were derided because I was a girl and therefore couldn't possibly know anything about money. (Did I mention we work in a finance-related field?) Hence the livid anger. But! I was not shocked at the behavior and I knew exactly what was happening as it happened.
And don't worry. I'll have my revenge. I'm completely vindictive and passive-aggressive at work (when I'm not being aggressive-aggressive), and Jackass #1 will pay, most likely in a large group of our peers. The best payback is public payback.
Oh and again - hello? Do you know anyone, Mexico or not, that would bend over backwards for you for a $1 tip? I don't think so. It's not like they have no concept of money in Mexico. They know very well how much a $1 is. And they especially know how little 10 pesos are. So give me a goddamned break, jackass coworker #1.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
I have blood underneath my fingernails.
Gross.
But really it's my own fault. My boss was getting so excited (i.e. annoying) about a case that I got completely frustrated and took it out on a tiny, little, head itch. The least he could have done was leave me be so I could express my disgruntledness (word?) verbally but no. He had to stick around and make sure I thoroughly agreed with and enjoyed his excitement. As a result I have a self-inflicted injury. And I couldn't even yelp out loud when I did it because I was still in his presence. How do you tell someone you just scratched your head so hard that there's a high (although temporary) level of pain and blood? It just doesn't come out right.
On a different note, squishy and I are tied 1 to 1 in the epic battle of subpar baseball team series. And I'd still like to point out, even though the 'Stros played the Red Sox last weekend (and creamed 'em!), we still never made it to the front page of any non-local sports headline site, i.e. si.com or espn.com or yahoo.com or any other one you can think of.
But really it's my own fault. My boss was getting so excited (i.e. annoying) about a case that I got completely frustrated and took it out on a tiny, little, head itch. The least he could have done was leave me be so I could express my disgruntledness (word?) verbally but no. He had to stick around and make sure I thoroughly agreed with and enjoyed his excitement. As a result I have a self-inflicted injury. And I couldn't even yelp out loud when I did it because I was still in his presence. How do you tell someone you just scratched your head so hard that there's a high (although temporary) level of pain and blood? It just doesn't come out right.
On a different note, squishy and I are tied 1 to 1 in the epic battle of subpar baseball team series. And I'd still like to point out, even though the 'Stros played the Red Sox last weekend (and creamed 'em!), we still never made it to the front page of any non-local sports headline site, i.e. si.com or espn.com or yahoo.com or any other one you can think of.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Axe Body Spray
My day was made yesterday about 4:00 p.m. by an Admin in my office. Why, you ask? Apparently she noticed a bad odor coming from the kitchen(esque) area in the hallway. She complained that it smelled like fish. Our boss offered to spray his "good-smelling stuff" to cover the odor. Into his office she went where he presented her with his secret against bad odors - Axe Body Spray. As he sprayed the little, black, aerosol can into the air she coughed and sputtered and excused herself to her office where I found her, a short while later and she relayed the story to me.
This same boss has certain, how shall I say?, odor issues himself. While I distinctly prefer to overwhelming smell of man/boy cologne to the underlying offensive... odors, I've always wondered how the man/boy cologne smell seemed to grow and get stronger at certain points during the day. Now I know. It's the repetitive use of Axe. Body. Spray.
So while the Admin was busy complaining of an oncoming migraine, I was happily skipping back to my office to make a phone call to an ex-coworker with whom I'd developed many alternative tricks for compensating for the above odor issues.
If you can't comprehend why this made my day, imagine all those "sexy" Axe commercials and then picture your own smell-challenged boss. If that doesn't produce a guffaw or two, your boss is not nearly as physically repulsive as mine.
This same boss has certain, how shall I say?, odor issues himself. While I distinctly prefer to overwhelming smell of man/boy cologne to the underlying offensive... odors, I've always wondered how the man/boy cologne smell seemed to grow and get stronger at certain points during the day. Now I know. It's the repetitive use of Axe. Body. Spray.
So while the Admin was busy complaining of an oncoming migraine, I was happily skipping back to my office to make a phone call to an ex-coworker with whom I'd developed many alternative tricks for compensating for the above odor issues.
If you can't comprehend why this made my day, imagine all those "sexy" Axe commercials and then picture your own smell-challenged boss. If that doesn't produce a guffaw or two, your boss is not nearly as physically repulsive as mine.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
The bad, bad night of the JT sing-along...
Remember that post about being excited about the Justin Timberlake Sing-Along? Yeah, I should have known better than to be excited about something. History should have told me that the evening would be piss-poor. But do I listen to history? No. Hopes up - hopes dashed, that's the way of the world.
I held off posting about this because I'm not sure if peeps at work read this or not but here goes... I applied for a job a month or so ago that I'd be perfect for. I didn't get it. Fine. I didn't even get an interview even though I met every qualification x10 they were looking for. Fine. Whatever. Thursday night? I met the girl who did get that job. And as nice as she is, she is in no way qualified. She has less experience than me (2 years less), the experience she does have doesn't come close to matching what she'll be doing in her new job, and well, there's no 3rd thing. She just plain old isn't qualified and has no experience in the subject matter while I have all of that and above. Did I mention I didn't even get an interview?
See the evening started so nicely. The Sing-Along wasn't until 9:30ish, so a few BFFs and I hit up a women in law happy hour (yay - wine specials!). About half a glass in, I realized the new job the girl next to me was talking about was the one mentioned above. I spent the next glass and a half listening to all the information that lead me to the above conclusions.
The BFFs and I headed out to dinner after the happy hour and started putting pieces together. The realities of the job situation came together and the result? a very depressed me. So when it came time for the awesomeness that is Justin Timberlake, I was in quite the foul mood. I'm a stewer and an obsesser, so you can only imagine what a few hours did to my mood.
I will admit that JT perked me up a bit. I did comment on his sexiness more times than not during the night. Have you ever noticed how hot he is? Good lord!! And all of his songs talk about how this or that girl did him wrong and now he's going to passive-agressively not give them his name or ring (or worse: kill them in a car crash). Looking back over the whole Britney/JT break-up, I'm now firmly on Team Britney. (Aside: over Easter my little niece was wearing a dress and kept showing her undies. My SIL - uber crazy Christian SIL - told me to try to teach her right. When the SIL was out of sight, I explained to her the virtues of not exposing your "Britney" and she completely understood! And then, when her mom came back in the room, proceeded to spread her legs open, yell about showing her Britney, and then clap them closed again. Oops.) Anyway. I don't think it was right for JT to air all his dirty laundry and call out Britney for cheating on him. Whether she did or didn't, it wasn't very classy. Bad move, JT. Plus there was all that anger and little boy crying in those couple of videos where the pseudo-Britney sees the JT sex tape and JT practically forces ScarJo to commit suicide in a really expensive car. Me thinks JT might have a slight anger problem. But if you juxtapose the angry videos with the punked where JT thought all his stuff was getting repo'd and called his mom practically crying, well it makes one think he has a wee bit of manning up to do. Get on with it, will ya JT? Do you think he'll sing in a non-chipmunk register once he grows a pair?
I held off posting about this because I'm not sure if peeps at work read this or not but here goes... I applied for a job a month or so ago that I'd be perfect for. I didn't get it. Fine. I didn't even get an interview even though I met every qualification x10 they were looking for. Fine. Whatever. Thursday night? I met the girl who did get that job. And as nice as she is, she is in no way qualified. She has less experience than me (2 years less), the experience she does have doesn't come close to matching what she'll be doing in her new job, and well, there's no 3rd thing. She just plain old isn't qualified and has no experience in the subject matter while I have all of that and above. Did I mention I didn't even get an interview?
See the evening started so nicely. The Sing-Along wasn't until 9:30ish, so a few BFFs and I hit up a women in law happy hour (yay - wine specials!). About half a glass in, I realized the new job the girl next to me was talking about was the one mentioned above. I spent the next glass and a half listening to all the information that lead me to the above conclusions.
The BFFs and I headed out to dinner after the happy hour and started putting pieces together. The realities of the job situation came together and the result? a very depressed me. So when it came time for the awesomeness that is Justin Timberlake, I was in quite the foul mood. I'm a stewer and an obsesser, so you can only imagine what a few hours did to my mood.
I will admit that JT perked me up a bit. I did comment on his sexiness more times than not during the night. Have you ever noticed how hot he is? Good lord!! And all of his songs talk about how this or that girl did him wrong and now he's going to passive-agressively not give them his name or ring (or worse: kill them in a car crash). Looking back over the whole Britney/JT break-up, I'm now firmly on Team Britney. (Aside: over Easter my little niece was wearing a dress and kept showing her undies. My SIL - uber crazy Christian SIL - told me to try to teach her right. When the SIL was out of sight, I explained to her the virtues of not exposing your "Britney" and she completely understood! And then, when her mom came back in the room, proceeded to spread her legs open, yell about showing her Britney, and then clap them closed again. Oops.) Anyway. I don't think it was right for JT to air all his dirty laundry and call out Britney for cheating on him. Whether she did or didn't, it wasn't very classy. Bad move, JT. Plus there was all that anger and little boy crying in those couple of videos where the pseudo-Britney sees the JT sex tape and JT practically forces ScarJo to commit suicide in a really expensive car. Me thinks JT might have a slight anger problem. But if you juxtapose the angry videos with the punked where JT thought all his stuff was getting repo'd and called his mom practically crying, well it makes one think he has a wee bit of manning up to do. Get on with it, will ya JT? Do you think he'll sing in a non-chipmunk register once he grows a pair?
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