Yowza
Wow, I've been linked! Never expected it but one of my favorite bloggers linked me! I'm not linking her in this post because I don't want to be too creepy or desperate but YAY! I stumbled upon this fact when I was checking her blog (hoping for an update although she just did but the internet isn't being interesting so I keep rechecking people's blogs) and I immediately texted BFF and said "OMG! One of my favorite bloggers has listed me under her blog roll!"
Sure, I link a couple of blogs here but that is because they are freaking awesome and I like them a lot and I think you really need to check them out. There are some really funny, insightful, and intelligent people out there. And I'm sure the person who linked me did it as a kindness, like accepting a facebook friend request just to be polite. But that doesn't matter because she did it and so now, yay! I get to feel all special and happy because it is the first time, that I know of, that this has happened (and yeah, I'm sure it is the first time).
Basically, it's like finding out that someone you greatly admire isn't so embarrassed of you that she needs to hide you. Obviously, I aim high in life with my whole attitude of "thank you for not pretending you don't know me!"
The fucked up part is that I'm nobody at these meetings, just the diligent little secretary who records the minutes. OK, that's important because there needs to be a record of what is said, not just so that both parties are set down in black and white, but because these minutes are something of legal documents. But who cares what the typist looks like? I'm not the client and I'm not the administrator of the contract. I could just be a random girl from the typing pool who was brought in due to her typing speed (mine is pretty high, at least 89 wpm without errors because I had years and years and years of typing lessons throughout school, for which I am incredibly grateful).
I wonder if I can still get away with fake tattoos on my face and/or neck?
Wow, I've been linked! Never expected it but one of my favorite bloggers linked me! I'm not linking her in this post because I don't want to be too creepy or desperate but YAY! I stumbled upon this fact when I was checking her blog (hoping for an update although she just did but the internet isn't being interesting so I keep rechecking people's blogs) and I immediately texted BFF and said "OMG! One of my favorite bloggers has listed me under her blog roll!"
Sure, I link a couple of blogs here but that is because they are freaking awesome and I like them a lot and I think you really need to check them out. There are some really funny, insightful, and intelligent people out there. And I'm sure the person who linked me did it as a kindness, like accepting a facebook friend request just to be polite. But that doesn't matter because she did it and so now, yay! I get to feel all special and happy because it is the first time, that I know of, that this has happened (and yeah, I'm sure it is the first time).
Basically, it's like finding out that someone you greatly admire isn't so embarrassed of you that she needs to hide you. Obviously, I aim high in life with my whole attitude of "thank you for not pretending you don't know me!"
In Other News
Remember how I decided that I was going to put a modicum of effort into my appearance, just enough to avoid that awkward conversation of "Cat, look, your work is superb but you really need to dress more appropriately for the office"? I've done a very good job of keeping at it, but my boss did inform me that t-shirts are not appropriate for our meeting tomorrow. It's a meeting with a client, a monthly one, and one I've been going to for about two years. I've been dressing like my usual, asshole, casual Friday self to this meeting for all this time but now I have to put in that effort on my fucking Friday. He was super nice about it and everything but still, my first thought was "well fuck, now I'll have to do a costume change when I get back to the office... like I have the energy to plan TWO WHOLE OUTFITS."The fucked up part is that I'm nobody at these meetings, just the diligent little secretary who records the minutes. OK, that's important because there needs to be a record of what is said, not just so that both parties are set down in black and white, but because these minutes are something of legal documents. But who cares what the typist looks like? I'm not the client and I'm not the administrator of the contract. I could just be a random girl from the typing pool who was brought in due to her typing speed (mine is pretty high, at least 89 wpm without errors because I had years and years and years of typing lessons throughout school, for which I am incredibly grateful).
I wonder if I can still get away with fake tattoos on my face and/or neck?
Am posting this anonymously, however suspecting it was I to whom you are referring in the Yowza piece, just wanted to assure you that I rarely do anything out of politeness*. Nice writing, you make me smile, and I like to share the blogging love with others, that's all.
ReplyDelete(*Actually, that's a big fat lie (tho not in this case) - I live in England for God's sake, we are bred to be polite while SEETHING inside...)
Twas you. I lived in London for three months and everyone was lovely but whenever I'd say "excuse me" in a store so as not to appear rude before having to walk in front of someone's line of sight in an aisle, the person always seemed startled and would say "oh, sorry!"
ReplyDeleteI get to feel especially squeaky and happy because another of my favorite bloggers is a follower here. I'm so thrilled with my enormous popularity. My mom was right, it WAS just that the other kids were jealous. :P
I was mentioned in a blog I love once, and it sent me spiralling into dizzy happiness. Honestly, it was better than seeing my kids born (I was numb from the neck down for both, how much fun was that ever going to be??) Your mother was right, AND it's just the start of a snowball effect. Just don't drink (too much) when you're under the dizzy influence...
ReplyDeleteOne day I'll have to ask my mother if she had an epidural all those years ago when she had me. But for now I like to just pretend I sprung from the forehead of my father.
ReplyDeleteIt is a lovely feeling and it still tickles me. I'm the sort that writes fan letters so it's shocking when someone likes my work enough to take notice.