Vehicular Hilarity

In the past three days, I've seen two really weird incidents involving motorists and I'm hoping to see more of them as I become more observant (how is that going to happen? I don't know either). In fact, I'm going to try and become more observant just so I can witness more of life's hilarity.

Incident One
Jilly Bean and I made a mid-morning dash to a Starbucks on Friday. We went through the drive thru because we are lazy Americans and the line was only two cars. I'm so glad we did! The car in front of mine was at the speaker thing giving her order and then, when I thought she was pulling up to wait her turn for the window, she instead drove off like a bat out of hell, causing JB and I to burst out laughing.

"What do you mean you're out of chai tea?!"

"You no longer carry croissants! This is an outrage!"

"If I'd wanted ice coffee, I would have said I wanted ice coffee. Cancel my order!" 

I mean, who drives off in a fury from the Starbucks drive thru lane? Turns out the real reason was more hilarious than what JB and I came up with. The guy at the window said she was pissed because they'd run out of protein powder, which sent JB and I into roaring laughter. "Yeah, that's how we react to those people too," he informed me, gratified by our reaction. I mean, who the fuck goes to Starbucks for their protein smoothies? Especially when there is, literally, a smoothie shop right down the road? JB and I didn't even know they made smoothies, let alone that they used protein powder. But that lady certainly knew. 

Incident Two
I was walking from a side lot onto the side walk in a nearby shopping center so that I could access the Pet Co (after vacuuming, I realized L&M was out of his beloved Timothy and only had the alfalfa that Hunter very kindly sent for him and although he is OK with the alfalfa, he really likes his Timothy).  I was in the process of double checking that I had, indeed, brought my wallet, when I suddenly noticed a van was stopped in an inconvenient place, right at the spot where she was trying to turn onto the road that abuts the storefronts. Then I saw the car in front of her van was also stopped and so looked to see if they'd had an accident. Instead, the driver of the car in front opened his door and started yelling:

"You wanna start some shit lady?! Huh?! God damn son of a bitch!"

I arrived too late to know who, exactly he was yelling at, so it made it that much more special (or, if you will, specialer... OMG, specialer is a word? I had no idea! But spell check didn't call me out so word) Was he yelling at the lady in the van behind him? I don't think so because, since he went so far as to open his door to yell, I would assume he would have gotten out to at least face her. I think, actually, that he was yelling at a pedestrian who was walking towards a shop behind him. Did she do that obnoxious pedestrian thing of crossing where there isn't a crosswalk? Did she give him shit about something? I have no idea. All I do know is that I was a bit disappointed that whoever the target was didn't yell back. And if it was the pedestrian, I pretty much sided with the driver because he looked like an average Joe whilst she looked like a wealthy wife of a CEO who attends "club dinners" and plays tennis and I loathe those women because I'm a reverse snob. That and because I'm still pissed off at these pedestrians who crossed in front of me last weekend. They crossed a very busy road with a 45 mph speed limit and not at a crosswalk. That's all fine and well and if you can do it, go ahead, but don't take your fucking time about it! They seriously just strolled across and I actually had to apply my breaks and then the fucking chick took her sweet time getting onto the grassy median. And she was talking on her cell phone.

But it's OK because I yelled "I hope you get hit on your way back" and even though I don't think they heard me, I'm pretty certain they felt it. 

How I have friends is a mystery to me

The following is an email conversation I had with BFF the other day.

BFF - Original Subject Line is Avatar

"'Sup Puddin,

I am racking my brain trying to come up with an avatar for my scary mommy.com profile. Care to draw me one when you have the time?" 

ME

"What're you looking for? Can you give me a bit of inspiration?"

BFF

"Something to do with me and Baby."

ME

"So not a picture of Johan, my gun, and random Manga?"

BFF

"No, no thank you."

ME

"Totally drew that myself."

BFF

"Lol. But that's beautiful! And perfect!"

ME

"I thought you'd like it. I thought vintage when I thought of you and baby when I thought of Baby so easy peasy."

ME

"Option two. A great way to introduce yourself."

BFF

"Um, yeah, that's kinda what I was thinking when I asked for an avatar! I'mma gonna use this one! Thanks!"

ME - New Subject Line "Re: avatar PLEASE DON'T HATE ME"

BFF

"That's just WRONG!
 Besides, Baby doesn't get herself dressed yet. :P"

ME

"I figured this was at night before you put her down. But she looks happy doesn't she?

That picture cracked me up when I finished drawing it."

BFF

" Ahem, I don't get shit faced until AFTER I put her down!"

ME - New subject line "Last One"

That is her husband, looking all annoyed at her

BFF

"Ugh!"

ME

"Oh come on!"

BFF

"Really???!! :-)"


And that is why she is BFF. The end.

Banana Warfare

Because we all know it will happen one day.

A Perfectly Thursday Sort of Post

Oh So Inappropriate
Oh cell phones! Aren't they wonderful? My favorite thing is getting a text from someone I don't know and then responding inappropriately. The following exchange took place yesterday evening.

Stranger: "Hey mommy this is mi new phone."
Me: "Mommy's at the neighbor's helping him lay some pipe."

Hey, I didn't know I was talking to a twelve year old until after she harassed me for a bit and I told her, for a second time, to leave me alone. I really hope the name she gave me was fake but, with kids, you never can tell. Explains her terrible spelling though. Her response to my pipe laying remark was unintelligible. But I think she's white because she went on to tell "mommy" that she was dating a black boy named KD.

Has anyone else noticed how sexy our government has gotten? I don't think it has been so sexy since Clinton was in office sexing up the interns. Now the Secret Service is getting in on the action with their Colombian hookers.  I, personally, see nothing wrong with hookers and nothing wrong with men paying for them, so part of me thinks this whole to-do is a non-issue. Rather, I would think that if we were talking about the American Men's Olympic Gymnastics team or The Ohio State University's football team. But we aren't; we are talking about the Secret Service. Does it bother me that they hired some prostitutes period? Absolutely not. But if you have the fucking word "secret" anywhere in your job description or divisional title, then act smarter and don't get caught. And if you are going to hire a prostitute, pay her for her services. That is just good manners. No haggling, OK? And no, your penis and your performance are probably not adequate compensation.

Petty Annoyances

The following are trivial things that I find to be irksome.We all have them and they are usually really minor. Feel free to share your own. Mine all happen to have to do with work because that's where I am most of the day.

• The smell of lean cuisine type meals heating up in the microwave. It never really bothered me until I began working at a company where so many people heat up these things at or around the same time.
• The smell of popcorn. Ditto above.
• When I tell my boss I'm pressed for time, he comes over to talk to me about what can be delegated, and then proceeds to engage me in idyll chit chat for fifteen minutes. 
• Voice mail messages.
• The fact that the clocks on our computers and the clocks on our telephones do not match up. It used to be worse, with a two or three minute discrepancy, but even the weird thirty minute lag time irritates me.
• When I receive a request from someone who basically wants me to be a middle man for no good reason. Sally Sunshine is contacted by someone about having misplaced his manual. Sally emails me and asks me to forward the manual. Sally has fucking access to the manual but has decided I'm the one who needs to send it. Sally Sunshine should work for the government.
• When people reply all on email chains without considering who "all" comprises. 
• Having to lock up everything even if I'm just walking down to the printer. 
• When people hold teleconferences in cubicles or in offices with the door open so we can all hear.
• When I repeatedly x out of programs I need to keep open because I have so many windows open and there is a delay in closing the ones I don't need to keep up and so I double click the x.
• The curve in my spine that I'm developing from my desk job... not that I want to be out in the field running through obstacle courses or anything.

Because I don't feel like working, I'm doing this instead

Conversation via email.

ME: "Can't believe it's finally Friday. Am sooooooooo tired."

BFF: "Omg, me too. Ditto. I eat at my desk then take my lunch by going to LW Park and reading and napping in my car. I just got back and I am more tired than ever. Doesn't help that I don't have a/c so the heat really puts me to sleep."

ME: "lol, my buddy naps in his truck sometimes and was telling me I should try it by driving to the park around the corner. My friend Birdy and I spoke about how awesome it would be if we could nap and then be woken up and given a juice box."

BFF: "LOL I wonder if that's what happens to Baby? I would like to nap like that too. They pat them to sleep or rub their backs and I bet they get woken up like that too. And offered their juice cup and a snack. Damn it's good to be a Todd-la."

ME: "And you know they speak to them all softly 'there you are, Cat, wakey wakey. Let's sit up and have some juice, shall we? How about some orange wedges. Did you have sweet dreams?' And I'd be all rambly like little kids are when they first wake up.

God that would be nice. Instead, I have 1.5 hours left and then I'll drive home, collapse into bed whilst Johan screams at me, and wake up at some point in the evening totally confused. I'll be able to have a juice box though."

BFF: " Awe, that is exactly how I wake Baby up. "Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey...did you have good dreamers?" That is on the mornings where I have to wake her up because we have to leave early to go to school. Sweet at first and then it's all OK, hurry up lets get this diaper on you, don't cry, ok, ok, come on lets get your bottle come on now, don't cry, ok ok now we gotta get dressed, ok, ok, come on help a momma out Baby, don't cry, here shove some Cheerios in your face, come on, OK, OK gotta get in the car seat and go bye bye .... ugh. You'd think I'd be adult enough to get up extra early on those days so I don't rush a poor 12 month old, but NO."

ME: "Whatever, she deserves it because she gets awesome nap time."

 

And then she laughed

Let's stop with the boo hooing, shall we? That's the sort of them I seem to take with this blog, post something upsetting and then try to write about the lighter side of things. Two friends contacted me early in the day to see if I was feeling OK because they both knew how upset I was about my day yesterday. I felt miserable, and still do, but I try to make it a point to enjoy things as well, no matter how much I feel like ass. So, onward.

Remember how I had to clean out the refrigerators at work and I said that people know I'm not fucking around? Part of this duty includes sending out reminders, one on the Monday before the clean out and one on the morning of the clean out. Mine, on Friday, read something like this:

"This is your final notice that the refrigerators in the break room will be cleared out today. Anything that is left in the fridges between 3:30 and 3:45 is going in the trash. I don't care what it is. In fact, if there is fancy tupperware or a nice, cloth lunch bag, I'm going to put it in my car so you can't dig it out of the trash because I'm a petty, vindictive soul. No emails or post it notes will be honored...without a monetary bribe (checks will be accepted with a government issued ID."

So, earlier today, I ran into a relatively new nurse in the break room and she commented that I'd cracked her up with my email. She went on to say that she thought it was funny when I'd sent out the notice stating "you may put your items back in the refrigerators. Thank you for the vegetable platter." Because someone left an unopened package of cut up veggies and dip. I told the nurse that it turned out to be past its sell by date but that I'd planned to take it home to my guinea pig.

"Your what?"
"My guinea pig."

And that's when it happened. "You have a guinea pig!? Oh, my girls had those when they were smaller!" She proceeded to recount her experience with what turned out to be either gerbils or hamsters. At the end I said "yeah, but I have a guinea pig, it isn't the same thing." She responded with "no, I know, but now, my oldest girl, she lives out in Sacramento, she has rats!" I say guinea pig and you say whatever small rodent you can think of. Totally the same thing. 

The second funny thing isn't really that funny but I'm posting it as one of the funnier conversations from my day. Over texts:

BFF: "You doing ok?"
ME: "I'd like to punch Doe in the tit but I'm hanging in there."
BFF: ":(. Yeah. Read ur blog."
ME: "The Doe comment was actually about today. But Hunter called this a.m. to check on me and he made me laugh so I'm holding it together. May need anxiety meds."
BFF: "Well hit me up on msngr if u want to chat later."
ME: "Will do. Eating an apple and am convinced it will help."

Because I thought "anti anxiety medication" and then thought "meh, I'll eat an apple instead." And it made perfect sense to me.

Get Off My Lawn

I do not care about Pinterest. There was a brief story on NPR a few weeks ago and I heard the stupidest thing ever. This woman was talking about how she and her friends were in a furniture store and admired a chair. One of them said "I think I've seen this before." Another said "isn't that on your pinterest?" The other said "No" and whipped out her phone to take a picture so she could pin it and OH MY GOD IT WAS THE FUNNIEST THING!!!! That was what the chick being interviewed thought, not what I thought. What I thought was "how many people are you going to tell about someone taking a picture of a chair?"

I also do not care about American Idol and would really like it to die. I think I've probably said that several times on this here blog but really, can you say it enough? I don't even have cable any more but I still cannot escape it because I like the internet and gossip magazines and because I work in an office with human beings who watch and discuss the show in the break room. Who will be the next American Idol? Probably some jerk starring in a youtube video.

****************************

Can someone please explain to me how my consumer profile includes new or expectant mother? Similac sent me a card inviting me to join some moms club thing and if I respond now I can get a special smart bottle (I don't know if it is for me or my phantom baby). I triple checked the name and address and yep, it was for me. I purchase my fair share of alcohol and my diet consists of ramen, frozen pizza, popsicles, and toast and cheese. I suppose I wouldn't want me breast feeding either but I also wouldn't assume that was an issue in my life. I'm considering stocking up on hard liquor, condoms, lubricant, and porno magazines just to set my profile back to 'sad-lonely-single-adult' but fear what kind of invitations that might bring me. Larry Flynt opened a store in my area so who knows who tempting and tantalizing offers I might receive.

Speaking of Larry Flynt, did you know that Dear Abby knows him? It's true, look. I'm pretty sure she relies on old Larry for dating advice as well as porno advice.

And since I've decided to link, I'd just like to say, no shit, of course this guy kills hitchhikers in his truck. I know, I know, don't judge a book by its cover but, as my friend Birdy said, "That guy looks like ALL he does is kill hitchhikers! Ya'll see his eyeball?!? That eyeball says "I like to kill hitchhikers."

For the record, I would like to point out that the conversation regarding the Eyeballer, as I like to think of him, began at 8:43 this morning and I've been laughing like a weezing cartoon cat for about thirty minutes. But seriously, would you get into his truck?

****************************

It's Friday, the final day of my boss's vacation and so I need to live it up a bit. I get to clear out the office refrigerators because 'other administrative duties as arise' evidently includes custodial tasks, and taking the office mail to the post office. The refrigerators won't be too big a deal since people know that when I'm doing it, I really will throw their shit out. I'm ruthless and don't care if it's nice tupperware or a cloth lunch bag, it will be thrown out. This means that most people take their shit out and so I have little to do.  It still irritates me that I have to do it at all but what are you going to do? I should have said something two years ago when someone volunteered me and the rest of my 'team' but I didn't so I just have to suck it up and throw things away. I'll fight the power some other way. 

Today is also the start of my friend's three day weekend so I won't have him to chat to until Sunday evening or Monday morning and that blows. You know how you get used to talking to someone and then they do something selfish like go on vacation or get really ill or something? That is the moment you realize not only do you talk to that person a ton, but that you see/read/hear a million things a day that you want to tell them, like the Eyeballer and things heard on NPR during your commute. There are a few people I actually miss when they take vacation time away from work and Hunter is one of them. He works in a different office so we communicate via email and instant messenger but on some days, we essentially chat all through the working day because I type super fast and can multitask and he, evidently, is a terrible employee who wastes valuable company time. I think it bothers me more when he's 'out of the office' because he doesn't even work in this office so I don't get to talk to him in person or hang out with him and so it is a double blow to not even have him to chat with online. Jerk. Something about a wife and a life and the world not revolving around me. My old boss is doing the same thing, as a matter of fact, and she'll be gone for two weeks. She's one of the people I miss when they are gone. And Birdy. She's taking a half day (which is why I have to take the fucking mail).

So, basically, I have friends who are rad as hell but who suck and don't care about my need for constant entertainment and amusement. But I love them anyway.

****************************

LATER

Well, this day took an interesting turn. I don't know why but a few of us in my office have been losing our shit over The Eyeballer I mentioned above. I'm sorry, I know it must be mean, but we just crack up every time we see the photo. And whatever, dude killed people so laughing at him isn't horrific. Birdy made the mistake of telling me and Rambo that she couldn't stand us today because we wouldn't let the issue drop. So I did what any good friend would do; I waited until she left for the day and then printed out ten copies of various sizes of the guy's face. When she comes in on Monday, it will be to find her cubicle filled with this image:

I know, I'm the best friend anyone can have, right? And excellent use of my time. 

And when I wasn't being a dick intentionally, I was being a dick by accident and snapped the head off of my best friend. I've apologized but I do hate when I behave badly. Fortunately, the working day is almost over and I'll soon be napping.

Best Conversation Ever

Ralph Paton	We have too much fun together. Aside from the fact that you like Gangsta rap and think that Red is a flavor, you're down right awesome to be around.
Gwenda Reed	That and you always force me to think objectively, which pisses me off but really I know it is good for me.
◄	What's wrong with thinking Red is a flavor? You think watching people drive in a circle is entertaining!
◄
Ralph Paton	I like the wrecks
Gwenda Reed	Angry face guy thinks red is a flavor
◄	You know I'm from Delaware, right? Dover Downs.
Ralph Paton	- Cool guy likes NASCAR
Gwenda Reed	= You listening to N.W.A.
◄	I'm pretty sure they are all the same guy, by the way.
Ralph Paton	= You being forced to watch a race
◄	You're probably right. Same dude.
Gwenda Reed	This is one of the best conversations I've ever had and I'm going to have to put it on my blog

Career Services

You know what must be a fantastic job? Animal Cracker Designer. I was talking to Hunter earlier today about my animal crackers because most of them are indistinguishable blobs and yet the cow has udders. I don't think he understood my concern at first because he took it upon himself to explain that udders are girl parts and only girl cows have them whilst bulls have penises. He's an expert on bovine genitalia and seeing as I'm helping him update his CV, I think I would be remiss if I didn't work that in there somewhere under "Special Skills."

Eventually I gave up using my words and sent him a picture. As you can see, Stouffer's isn't too concerned about capturing the true essence of most animals. 

 I think "Fat dog with a bump on his head"is actually supposed to be a hippo.

Seriously, what the fuck is that sloth/polar bear that seems to be ravaging the South East? And is seal dog supposed to be a lion or something? 

And yet they took the time to give the cow udders!

At this point, I instant messaged Hunter so that he would know that I had animal crackers all over my desk. If I had access to facebook, that would have been one a status update. Because people need to know these things.

He was fairly aghast at the lack of definition in the crackers and proceeded on something of a tirade about how I must be eating the generic kind and did I need money for the good kind of animal crackers. I know, right? Who knew he was such a connoisseur?  But that's when I realized that head of design of animal crackers must be one of the sweetest jobs out there. And I'd be a natural! Here are a few designs I whipped up:

I don't think I'm too far off, do you? Hunter did suggest that I write a letter to the good folks at Stouffer's expressing my concern about the shitty shapes. I asked if it should be strongly worded and he said that yes, to a degree, it should, but that I didn't want to make enemies. So far this is what I have:

Dear Sir or Madam,

      Here is a picture of a cat that I found on the internet.

Here is a picture of what I think is supposed to be a cat as found in my bag of your delicious animal crackers.

 What the fuck, dude, how do you explain that?

Yours respectfully,

Cat

Maybe they'll put it on their website as a customer testimonial. I don't really mind, though. I like a little mystery in my animal crackers. I mean, why should Stouffer's do all the work? And it's obvious that the person who designed these particular crackers is somehow related to whomever it is that designed the boundaries* in this country. With the animal crackers, you can make out the horse, camel, elephant, bison, and llama (if it is a llama). Everything else is pretty much a crap shoot. And this is what the U.S. looks like:

The cartographer finished Texas and Minnesota and then said "fuck this."

See how the east coast has a whole bunch of interesting shapes? And then you get to the west and it's basically rectangles and squares? At some point, the person in charge of defining boundaries got fed up with the thankless task and decided squares were fine, squares were great. 

Animal crackers guy probably just lost enthusiasm like map drawing guy. It happens to the best of us.

*I know that it wasn't just some guy who decided on state boundaries so no need to tell me I'm stupid. Everyone knows that elves did it.

How a Boy Feels

"sites:blogspot.com masturbating teen girls"

Someone got to this blog using those keywords. That's pretty specific, isn't it? This person wants to watch multiple teen girls masturbating. I'm sure s/he found what s/he was looking for, but doesn't it seem like only a single teen girl masturbating would suffice? And why masturbation? It doesn't strike me as something that would turn me on, watching some girl play with her honey badger. But to each their own and who am I to judge? Nobody, that's who.

Speaking of judging, I had my evaluation this afternoon and it went even better than I had hoped. OK, full disclosure, I did panic for the thirty minutes leading up to the meeting but Hunter very kindly kept me company on instant messenger and did not make fun of me one bit for continually asking things like "what if I hyperventilate and pass out?" or "what if I start to cry?" or, my favorite, "what if I throw up?" He even offered to call my boss and tell him to be nice to me but he knew I wouldn't go for that (imagine the conversations there would be about why a VP in a different division of the company was concerned about people being nice to me). I think I just expressed my anxiety well enough that he knew I was freaking out and he, like most friends, wanted to make it stop. He couldn't assuage my anxiety altogether, so he did the next best thing and made me laugh a couple of times. Unfortunately, he made me laugh hysterically right before my meeting was to begin so I was a bit off balance*.

But the evaluation went really well and I was very pleased. I even got a raise! I don't know how much because my boss forgot the percentage number and could only tell me that he gave me the highest he could in my bracket (which was awesome). I thanked him and spoke to him very honestly. It was a surprisingly good evaluation given how astute his eval was and how kind and open he was. I really think this next year might actually be better now that I've seen the evaluation.

Next Day
I found out my raise and it was sadly low. Manager told me he gave me the highest available in my bracket and Hunter, who is also a manager, told me that I must be at 120% of my position. This is cool because it means that in only a few years, I've gotten to the point where I make as much as I can. But, on the other hand, if I want to make more money, I need to get a promotion or just get a new job in my company. This is unsettling because it means I might have to leave what I love; alternatively, I need to convince my boss and HR that my position needs to be expanded. 

Manager, during my evaluation, even asked if I had any feedback for him. I didn't feel I could be totally candid so what I did say was that I would like it if he would email more but I did let him know that I've found a work around as I email him after a conversation for clarification so that I have the documentation. He just said "manager up, got it". And today he proved he took it seriously today because when I requested to leave early and he said OK and then came to me and said, to paraphrase, "I'm not worried about you leaving early but I've made a life decision to not leave things till year end. Now, in the last x amount of months in 2011, you had a number of absences..." He was basically letting me know, in the nicest way possible, that he was worried it might be a negative pattern, that he understood that I had a rough time for the past six months of last year, but he wanted to be a good manager. Suffice it to say that I've texted him to thank him for coming to me because it makes me feel like he listened to me. I spent the majority of my time as his employee managing myself. If I can help him understand his role, I'm pleased. And let's face it, like I tell everyone, we never stop testing our boundaries and if you don't let us know when we reach the line, we will keep on. I think this is good for the both of us. And I have been nothing but sincere with the man since my evaluation (OK, so it is less than two days but I plan on keeping it up).

Weird Fear Unnecessary

One of the things I talked about during my evaluation, at the point when Manager asked me what I needed from him, was the fact that my work load has greatly increased. I let him know from the word go that I loved my work and I was actually really happy about the volume. However, Father Time has not granted me any favors and, thus, each hour remains the same sixty minutes that it always has. I asked if I might begin a log on Monday to track where my time was spent so that we might go to HR to see if I can't be salaried. To do this, we will have to prove to HR that I need to have my business title changed to my job title and have them understand that it isn't an hourly position. It really isn't. One half of my job has exploded, much like it did roughly two years ago, and so I'm deluged with work. Again, I'm happy with most of it. What I'm not happy about is not having enough time to attend to each matter 100% like I'd prefer. If I spend four hours doing X, I can guarantee these days that in a week's time I'll most likely spend another four hours doing X, two hours doing Y, and, hopefully, four more hours doing Z. This portion of my work is never ending because I need to recruit, process, and then reprocess for those who have been with my company for two years. You don't need to know the specifics, they'd bore you frankly, but it is time consuming. If that is all I did, things would be great. But I also serve as an assistant and a general executive dogsbody so really, there is too much for the time I have. I suggested the log as a way to see if I'm really in need of more hours or if I just need to identify areas where I can improve efficiency.

Frankly, I hope I can manage a raise and a salaried position. More money is always nice and I'd require it to go salary. But a salaried position would allow me to work over eight hours a day and I truly do like to work. I once told Hunter "can I tell you a secret? I actually like work." And I do! It isn't just that I like the minutia of what I do, but that I enjoy the challenges, the productivity, and the sense of accomplishment. I think I truly am a workaholic at heart but I am aware enough to know that I need to be compensated fairly.

For those who still wonder about my relationship with PW, know this: when I first considered asking Manager about whether or not we could make me salaried, I asked for her advice. I asked Hunter what he thought and he encouraged me to do so but I still asked PW because I knew she'd probably have decent information for me. And she did, thank goodness. I'm so glad I went to her because she did what she always does, considered the issue, told me what I'd need to do, and then quickly found some information I was lacking. I'm hoping she is still comfortable with me, as I am with her, and take it as a good sign that she instant messaged me to see how it went if I'd brought up the salary idea with Manager. I told her what happened and, sincerely, let her know that I would keep her in the loop if I got more information. It was relief, honestly, to interact with her normally. What happened between us happened and we haven't spoken about it. But I hope we can maintain the relationship we previously had as a I truly do appreciate her knowledge and experience and I know she is always a great resource to go to.

In Conclusion

I will leave you with this. Today was a day of heavy data entry and I told Hunter that this meant I would be listening to N.W.A. At one point the following conversation happened:

ME "Dr. Dre uses the term 'predicate' in rap. How can people not appreciate this music more?"
 HUNTER "You should recruit him for your panel. He is a doctor after all."
ME "Yes, but his doctorate is in cold rockin it, not a medical specialty."
ME "I've got a doctorate in cold rockin it is a lyric from a Roots song."
HUNTER"Root the movie"
ME "(hysterical laughter) No, the rap/hip hop group, not the movie."

Tripping the Light Fantastic

A Little Bit of Terrific
My office seems to have turned into a Pink Floyd song with random noises coming from unknown areas. Out of nowhere just now, I'm suddenly hearing a message being transmitted in Morse Code, cereal being poured into a bowl, and an airplane. The airplane might be real but Morse Code? Hopefully this won't continue or else I'll start to worry that I've begun hallucinating. I certainly don't want that to be the case because today has been kind of fantastic and I would hate to have it end with a straight jacket. Why is this day kind of fantastic? Let's take a look shall we?

1: I have a tattoo on my neck and that is always rad. I got up early and put effort into my appearance but, after about 20 minutes in the office, I felt I looked a wee bit too appropriate* and so took the necessary steps to rectify the situation.

2: One of the first things that happened after I arrived in the office was that my friend gave me a super cute pair of shoes. That does not happen on any other kind of day but a kind of fantastic one.

3: A bit later in the morning, my boss told me that he had the printer/scanner/fax machine that he's giving me in his car. I'd totally forgot about that, just like I'd forgotten about the promised shoes. It appears to be Give Cat Stuff Day. And I like it!

4: My friend is here! I have one last evening to hang out with him and, since I'm off for the first part of tomorrow, I can enjoy myself (he can't though, cause he has to go to work bright and early). We don't have any clue what we're actually going to do tonight, but knowing that we're going to hang out is enough to make me a happy girl indeed.

So you see, if it turns out I'm hallucinating and the pictures in my cubicle start talking to me, it'll really spoil my day.

*People kept commenting that I looked very nice and that I was "dressed up", to which I replied "no, you just haven't seen me look work place appropriate in so long that it seems like I'm dressed up." Take that, compliments! It's true though. I'm not wearing anything special, just a dress I've worn to the office seven thousand times before.

Things I've Giggle At Recently

ME: "And your son, how's he doing?"

FRIEND: "He's very, very... autistic."*

"Once people become sexually active adults, they tend to stay that way." 

Journalist Craig Tinberg on an episode of "Fresh Air" on NPR the other day. They were discussing the AIDs epidemic in Africa and how the West's attempts to educate or help the matter actually made things worse.

"She's a big fan of Jazzercize."

Another quote from NPR, this time as an introduction to a woman who was going to discuss her favorite work out song. I don't think I've ever heard of anyone being a self-proclaimed big fan of Jazzercise.  And let's face it, do most people even know that this still exists? 

"I have long hair for a person." 

"You sucked it big?"

Quotes from my conversation with Hunter last night. The first is mine and the second is his. I knew immediately that I sounded really stupid but I'd started out saying that I have long hair but I wanted to qualify it because not necessarily everyone would agree that it is truly "long." His comment had to do with the fact that my thumbs are different sizes because I was a thumb sucker (the left) for 9 years. I think he truly meant what he was asking and just didn't realize how it was going to sound. It is, however, one of the best things anyone has ever said to me so I'm glad he didn't take a beat to think about how to word the question.

*What cracked me up is that she referred to her son as being "very, very autistic", not the fact that he is autistic. She laughed with me when I pointed out how weird that sounded.

I think you've had enough

Booya motherfuckers
I know you come here for exciting life updates such as "my hair smells dirty" and "my cubicle smells like pee" (make that exciting odor updates) but today I am going, nay must, change things up a bit. Wait! Come back! I promise it'll be worth your while! No, really, it will. Prepare to have your minds blown.

Today I found this campaign ad.

That's OK, I needed a few minutes after I first watched it too. This must be what it was like for Paul when he was converted. Before this day, when I thought "Ron Paul" I thought "terrifyingly crazy political ideals" and "thank goodness he is the Ralph Nader of the GOP." And then, there I was, listening to a broadcast of Morning Edition on NPR when this ad was referenced. Oh how I wanted to hear more! But my company blocks most web-sites (thank you very much Big Brother) so I was forced to wait until I got home to youtube it. And youtube it I did. Ron Paul isn't some crazy old man who is out of touch with reality! Why he's as hip as you and me! I mean, the ad is even referenced to as being "edgy." Stodgy politicians don't use words like "edgy"! And that part where the narrator says "later bureaucrats"? O. M. G. Nothing says young, cool, and with it like saying "later" instead of "goodbye."

Did you feel it too? I bet you did. And I bet it was life changing.

So, full disclosure, I'm a registered Libertarian myself. I actually consider myself to be a far left leaning Libertarian but that's because I haven't studied Socialism too in depth (and there is a good chance I might be a Socialist) and because I really do think Libertarianism is the way to go... in theory. In reality, however, I fully believe in government-funded programs for the elderly and poor and federal funding of public schools*. Ron Paul has some truly terrifying politics. Look him up kids**.

Sorry, what were you saying? I was too busy choking and crying

Have you ever had someone tell you a story when a seemingly insignificant detail strikes you as hilarious and so you end up laughing, hysterically, far harder and for far longer than is at all polite? That happened to me some time ago and the person involved sort of gave me permission to post it here so I thought, meh, why not? I'll delete it if it feels too "you had to have been there." In order to protect the innocent, I'm not going to reveal the name of the friend. Instead, I'll simply call him Shunter. There, total anonymity.

OK, so the very last time Shunter was in stown, we were having a discussion about something like broken bones or hospital trips. Who knows? Hospital trips and broken bones are usually discussed five or six times a day between friends, right? At any rate, we were talking about something that led Shunter to begin telling me about an accident he had when he was in his early twenties. He and a friend were riding motorcycles and somehow or another, Shunter's ended up going wonky, he tried to slow down to right it, and ended up wiping out tremendously. From what I understand, there was a lot of blood and a lot of skin removed from where skin had been previously***. This was in the olden days because Shunter was in his early twenties in, uhm, the late 80's**** and they didn't have cell phones. So, instead of calling for help, he and his friend had to wait for this lady who happened to drive by in her car to give them a ride to the hospital. Shunter was explaining his injuries when he got to the pesky little detail that started me off into a fit of laughter that was so long and so hysterical that I'm pretty sure he felt embarrassed.

His outfit.

Do you know what I remember about fashion in the 80's? Nothing. I was born in December 1980 and my memory doesn't begin until 1991 and, even then, is pretty blurry on the visuals. Shame on you people. Shame on those who were young adults in the 80's and shame on the parents of young children. What. The. Fuck? Do you know what Shunter was wearing when he wiped out on a motorcycle? A half shirt. That's right, I said it and it happened. He was wearing a fucking half shirt (now you can appreciate why I had to change his name). My man was wearing a half shirt, cut off denim shorts, and sneakers without socks. His hair as either feathered, which is what he told me when he first recounted the tale to me, or in a mullet, which he let slip today over instant messenger. Either way, he was looking, I don't know, gnarly? Is that what you people said in 1986-1989?

A mother fucking half shirt.

That was the first thing he told me about the outfit and I could not hold my shit together. When he reminded me of it today, out of the blue, I had my earphones in (listening to NPR and awaiting the miracle as described above) and so I sort of forgot that I was at work so I started laughing again, just a little too loud to have any chance of hiding it with a cough. But when I first learned about it, I started laughing so hard and so uncontrollably that the poor bastard couldn't even get the rest of the story out for a good five minutes.

And that is just one of the many reasons I love this good friend of mine. That and because he reminded me of the half shirt when we were talking about prostitutes but that, my friends, is for another time. After all, I've already given you the gifts of Ron Paul's awesome ad and a story that is probably only funny to me. I'm not a fucking endless well of gifts after all.

* There are too many idiots who say either "I don't have kids" or "my kids graduated" to explain why they are against tax payer dollars going to public schools for anyone to truly believe we'd be OK without the pesky government insisting that we contribute... and by we, I mean those who have to. Someone told me today that I don't because I don't have property tax.

**Then look up Newt Gingrich and read about how he thinks girls should be rewarded for graduating high school as virgins. I bet part of the reward would be having the President perform the test required to prove that you are virgo intacto. 

***Considering the context, my laughter seems fucked up now. 

****Numbers and I are not friends so I have to use a calculator most times, even for simple subtraction.

Classy, spiritual strumpets

My friend posted a diagram of places a person might get a tattoo and what it said without speaking. You know, if you get them on your face you will probably never have the sort of job that includes paying taxes, if you get one on your ankle you are a little princess, etc, etc. There were numerous comments but I'm only going to post the following because let's just cut right to it, shall we?

ME: "If I got a tattoo, I think I would get a tramp stamp of the words "Tramp Stamp".
HER: "How about a tramp stamp written in Japanese characters?"
ME: "Surrounded by cherry tree blossoms. Fuck, if only I'd never promised my mother that I would never get a tattoo!"

Just imagine if I could have that spiritual tramp stamp, you know, something that says "classy" while also saying "I can shot gun whiskey with the best of them." Well now you can! I'll have to hire actual artists to really get this business going but a prototype is a prototype and here is mine. You're welcome.

According to Google's translation program, that is Bengali for "whore stamp"

Cheer Up, Ya Jerk

I was in a rotten mood yesterday. OK, I've been in a rotten mood for awhile now for various reasons, none of which I need to go into because for one, they are all throughout this stupid blog and for two, who wants to ruminate? My life is screwy just now and the second half of 2011 was challenging and, for various reasons, I've been pissy since last week.

Fortunately for me, I have friends who make me giggle with the things they say and one in particular who will try to draw me out when I'm in a particularly stomp-stomp-pout-fuck-you kind of mood. Yesterday he went above and beyond and drew me the following:

This is a lovely example of reciprocity betwixt friends. I was in a horrendous mood and was avoiding almost everyone for fear that I would act like a complete bitch (you know, more so than usual) to people. I was also upset because I was convinced that my old boss was mad at me (and had been for at least a week). Hunter knew what was going on and he drew me a picture to make me giggle and snap out of it. And it worked. I even printed it out and hung it discreetly in my cubicle so that I could glance over at it to laugh when I started thinking angry thoughts.

I say an example of reciprocity because last week, Hunter and I got into a bit of a kerfuffle over a link I'd sent him. He and I have some really big ideological differences we are both aware of. It isn't a big deal because we don't exactly sit around talking about religion and politics all the time. But Hunter was in a shitty mood and I was the the last straw or the flint that was needed and so he briefly took it out on me. It wasn't a huge deal and it lasted all of five minutes. Once I realized he wasn't just treating me like a dick and that he was in a bad mood, I started drawing him this:

 

Because that is what friends are there for. To make you laugh in spite of yourself and to snap you out of your worst moods. As it turned out for me, my old boss has not been mad at me and things are fine there. There are other things that haven't straightened out and I have some issues I really need to figure out and work through, but I also have a Happiness Fat Guy tacked to my cubicle where I can look over and smile. 

Bottom line: If you are prone to shitty moods whilst at work, try to have a friend who has access to a paint program who will waste time drawing you silly pictures.

What I Do These Days

I posted the picture of the donkey that I drew and figured I might as well come clean. I've spent too much time during this work week drawing pictures. Bad pictures. Here are the other two.

Weasel

 

Elephant

Seeing as they aren't that great, one might wonder how much time I actually spent. Well, I have to find a picture online (thank you google.com/images!) and then copy from that, usually over notes I've made during the day. There is something therapeutic about it when I'm in a rotten mood.

In other work news

I'm moving! I get to move to a new cubicle and I am ridiculously stoked because it's a great cubicle. What makes it so great is that it is tucked away in a place where few venture on a daily basis so I'll get to hide away from the rest of the office. I made the request to move because there is a lot of traffic in my hallway that I tune out. Then someone will need me and they'll come to my cubicle and scare the living shit out of me (I'm jumpy). But the other benefit is that I won't have to deal with knowing when Stalker passes by. I know that sounds weird but I can usually tell who it is behind me and he has a distinctive walk. I'm still annoyed about his emailing me with his request so I'm more on edge these days. Hell, I had a nightmare last night and he was in it, threatening to tell everyone I work with about what happened. So that distance is a good thing.

Also, my friend, Hunter, is coming back to my office! He's only going to be here for a blink of an eye but I didn't think I'd see him again for years so this is a total bonus. All of my really good friends live thousands of miles away from me so I never get to see anyone and I made the mistake of becoming this guy's friend knowing that he lives far away (everyone else just fucking moved on me). So yippee.

Now I just have to hope my boss doesn't give me an awkward or bad performance review in the next coming months and I should have confirmation for my belief that 31 is going to be a good year (all it takes, apparently, is getting to move to a new cubicle and having a friend visit for a day).

Balls Will Always Be Funny

We all have certain things that make us cranky, whether it be low blood sugar, hunger, boredom, sexual frustration*, etc. For me it appears to be lack of sleep. I didn't get more than four hours last night and felt sick with fatigue all day, which caused me to act like a total bitch. Not to acquaintances and clients, of course, just to my friends and my mother. Why the fuck do we do that, reserve all civil behavior for those we don't really care about on a significant level whilst subjecting the people we actually like to our worse behavior? I all but picked fights with two of my friends and was flat out rude to my mom over email. But when I had to train a colleague I don't work with much, I had all the patience and calm in the world and reassured her that what she needed to do was simple and I would always be available to help her. Is it because we know that the people who care about us will understand and love us anyway even if we act like complete twats from time to time? I don't know if I am the easiest person to take on a regular basis but when I'm moody, forget having a civil discussion with me on any topic other than "holy fuck am I in a bad mood and you know what, mother fucker? I don't give a fuck about anything today and will not give a fuck until I get some mother fucking sleep." Little ray of sunshine, that's what they call me.

 But certain things still made me laugh throughout the day and they are too good to keep to myself. One of the best was the phrase "enlarged scrotal vein removal." I didn't even know that was a thing! But balls will always make me laugh because I'm secretly a 13 year old girl who laughs at things like the word "testicles". I looked it up (wikipedia's blackout was annoying but there are always other sources) and it just got better when I found this site and read about the symptoms. Feeling a little dragging or heaviness in your nuts there buddy? When you were playing with your garbage did you happen to feel something like worms or spaghetti? Don't worry, we can take care of that for you. Heh heh, nuts.

One of the first things to make me smile was a column from Dear Abby. "Olympia" is 18, lost her first ever job but has two offers for college, and has decided she is going to work as a prostitute. As my friend pointed out, this was a 'do not pass go' move straight to hooking without any of that silly toe in the water stripping nonsense. Not only did she go from some ordinary job to selling her honey badger, she told her mother about the decision! Who the fuck does that? "You know what, mom, I'm not going to be a sucker like you working for peanuts. I have a perfectly good vag that I can sell and make a killing. You're dumb, you should have been a prostitute." And Abby's response was pretty cute what with her comment that this line of work will only be an option while "Olympia"s looks hold. Abs evidently hasn't seen the movie Monster or else she'd realize that men will fuck anything - and even pay for it.

Finally, on my ride home, listening to NPR, I heard the following statement made regarding Francesco Shettino, the captain of that cruise ship that partially sunk: "claimed he accidentally fell into a lifeboat". What an awesomely terrible excuse for abandoning ship during an emergency! I wonder if he also 'accidentally' pushed old people out of the way before falling overboard. Maybe he 'accidentally' grabbed a baby from a mother's arms as an excuse to get to one of the lifeboats first (by accident of course). Is anyone really supposed to buy that?

And with that I bid you adieu as I need to get a few things done before I pop some Nyquil at 8 o'clock so that I can get some sleep. I have a feeling I'm lucky to have the friends that I do so I can't exactly push my luck with more bad behavior.

*Be warned that this is TMI - Here's hoping that sexual frustration isn't one of my 'buttons' or else I'm going to be a stark raving cunt pretty soon.

And it is only stupid Tuesday

That is how I feel today. Yeah, I guess that makes a load of sense, huh? Yellow makes that picture feel uncomfortable (well, it does if you are me and you are a synesthete) and in my head I just keep thinking "dude.... what the fuck."

Yes lady and gentleman (I'm being kind and assuming I have two readers), I fell off the wagon last night and am still just walking beside it today. Stupid fucking sugar detox. Stupid fucking friend, KR, who is all healthy and inspiring and good at this shit. I had wine last night. Lots of it. I was supposed to just have 'some' because I have to run today but nope, I decided I'd have lots and not really eat much. Cause I'm smart. So I'm hungover today and treating said hangover with M&Ms and Sun Chips (three little bags). I am also drinking lots of water though, so I'm not a total fuck up.

I do like that the extent of my fucking up is pretty minimal. A little bit of candy, some chips, oh, and soda. Oh my god! Soda!!! How I missed my diet Coke. I think I told three people and the vending machine "I'm going to drink the fuck out of my diet Coke" and I did! It was glorious and I am filled with effervescent happiness just reminiscing about it. But yeah, I didn't have Chinese food or pizza and I didn't just sit and eat an entire cake on my own or anything. Really, the damage is minimal (or else I'm just talking myself out of feeling uber guilty).

I'm not taking this whole day off mind you. If the chips and M&Ms don't help, I'm just going back to the protein and nuts and unhappiness that I've been hanging out with for the past week (heh, nuts). And I'm still going to the gym, if only to punish myself by making myself run and sweat out the alcohol and feel awful. I couldn't run yesterday because I fucked up my shot on Sunday night and hit something and so had a very painful thigh. I did core work instead and discovered that my hip doesn't work right. Seriously, there are certain moves I can no longer do because it feels like my hip is going to come out of its socket. I've had this feeling before, whilst climbing a rock wall in college (oh those glorious days when I was healthy and thin!) and when I tried to be on top for sex (yeah, weird and random, right? I've not been on top in years and I don't really do blow jobs so I am the most spoiled sexual partner of all time). But not being able to exercise is a new one and I wonder if it has to do with running. Lousy body. I bet it wants calcium or something. There's calcium in prenatal vitamins, right?

So, yeah, that's where I am today. As I emailed my best friend, "being at work not hungover is awesome. I am at work and I'm hungover. " She jumped off the wagon last night in her own way. She also provided me with some of the best comments ever and I'll leave you with them to brighten you day:

Via text that came out of the blue:
"Soooo. Got so drunk last night that I peed the bed. A lot."

Email conversation:

ME: "So are you going to Taco Shack tonight?"

HER: "Hells yeah we're going to taco shack! I'm going to mow down on some yummy tacos and then  later tonight I'm going to give up my taco to him. That should make him feel better and be less mad at me."  

And that, that right there, is why she is my best friend.

And in case you were wondering, yes, she did give up her taco. I totally asked. Oh, and I think Taco Shack is actually the name of the restaurant.

I've been working on this for days - this is what happens when I try

Why do people like me?
I'm beginning to think that people should not trust me enough to give me access to their Facebook pages. My BFF had a baby in March and so, naturally, she posts a lot of baby pics on her page. I'm the asshole who rarely comments unless it is to caption the pictures with phrases suggesting the baby is high or drunk. If I'm lucky, the dog is in the picture as well. I've created a running theme in my head where their fat bagel (beagle crossed with some other dog) is a drug pusher who gets the baby (we will refer to her with the name Baby) to toke up. Bagel is really on the losing side of things, however, because she is older and has been in the house longer than Baby. So mom and dad just say "bad dog" and then give Baby something soft and malleable to put in her mouth (well, they don't give it to her for that reason but everything ends up there; hey, she's not even one yet and she's smoking dope at the level of a three year old so cut her some fucking slack).

And this is my best friend we are talking about, not some random person from high school whose friend request I accepted because I was drunk. I actively like BFF and even wrote a post about her once. But, evidently, if you are my friend, nothing is sacred. I do get some credit, however. My brother posted something that I could have totally run wild with and made all sorts of inappropriate comments about. But for one thing, he was talking about having done some charity (that is not a euphemism), for two, he has a lot of religious people on his page, and finally, he's in Abu Dhabi so why mess with the kid?

In sickness and in health
Johan is getting harder to ignore these days. He isn't, however, getting any smarter. I moved his cage and haven't returned it to the right spot yet he still only rattles the cage in the one spot; the one furthest from me. He was pretty stoked about coming home from the vet though. He was very intent to get out of his carrier and jumped into his home when I had it unzipped enough. Usually I have to open the carrier the whole way and place it in his cage and wait for Sir Waddles to sniff and slowly make his way out. I guess he really missed his stuff. Makes sense in some respects. I miss my bed and my belongings when I'm gone as well but his belongings comprise a food dish, a water bottle, a plastic igloo hide, and his own shit. I think I would be less enthusiastic about returning to such splendor.

J and I are going to try and see if we can fix our marriage or save it or whatever. We met and talked and it was pretty awful, but we agreed to start seeing one another more often, to hang out, and see if we thought it could work. We have a long road ahead of us but I think it will be worth it. I can't believe I really thought it was over without putting in any effort. All I can think is that I had a mini breakdown due to the MS diagnosis and the fact that my marriage was disrupted in any way at all. Now that I'm beginning treatment, I'm beginning to be a real person again, not this out of control lunatic girl who makes reckless choices and doesn't see beyond tomorrow.

Yes, I said treatment and beginning as in "I've recently started taking medication for my disease." Who knew this day would actually come? I mean, it only took five months from the date of my diagnosis. But now here I am, with a sharps disposal box on the table and a box full of syringes in my fridge. I've injected myself without help twice and with help once, the first time (obviously) at work with the aid of one of the nurses on staff who does home health stuff. So far it has been without incident save for the first time when I got some swelling and bruising. Self injecting is even less of a hassle than I thought it would be. After I got my first ever flu shot, I thought "this will be a breeze", and it totally is and takes almost no time after I've let the drug sit out in the open for 30 minutes to warm up. All I really have to do is wait for the alcohol from the swab to dry because if you inject and you still have alcohol on your skin? That shit stings.

Speaking of the flu shot... I got my first ever fucking flu this year too, right after I finally got over a two week cold I'd developed. Needless to say, I will not be taking that shot again.

If it gets you through the (shitty) day

Yesterday I did something awful. I used one person to hurt another as revenge for their having hurt me. It was one of the meanest things I've ever done in my life and I am thoroughly ashamed of myself. Today has been difficult to say the least. It may get better and it may not. I have to wait and see, my favorite game. I've apologized to both parties but I still just shudder when I think about what a complete and utter cunt muffin I was.

Fortunately, however, I've had some fun distractions to help get me through my nine hours of having-to-be-at-work-and-upset-hell. And it is all because of a silent auction charity thing my office is doing (yes, the very kind that I bitched about in my last post) and because I wore a t-shirt with this slogan:

 

This was bought for me, incidentally, by the friend that I hurt. How poetic, I suppose. At any rate, here is the best conversation I've had all day, using instant messenger (note: I am probably the only one on the planet that thinks this is funny, but hey, you have to do what you have to do). Thanks office charity group! Thanks friend that hurt me and who I then hurt worse! 

Me: When they announce the winners of the silent auction items, people are going to clap. People are going to be applauded for buying things.

Work Colleague: I feel like you’re making a point here but I don’t know what it is.

Me: I just thought about it and thought it was weird.  I think I’m one of the winners though.

WC: You should have put your sarcasm shirt in the auction and auctioned off sarcasm and “other services.”

Me: Unsolicited Snark and Sass

WC: That would be a good name for your bookstore. In my mind, you own a bookstore.

Me: Neat! Do I have a successful one? You can have a flower shop.

WC:  With a name like ‘snark and sass’ how could it not?

Me: Just books though, no music section. Fuck music, we read here!

WC is no longer available

dedicated to UT and DJ, with heartfelt apologies with none of my sarcasm