I have been sitting in a room staring at a poster for the last 2 hours. The poster stares back at me, questioning, accusing. It just inccessantly looks at me. It demands an answer. It will not be silenced.
It wants to know, 'Are you ethical? Do you have integrity?' I can't quite look the poster in the eye or should I say that I can only glance at it out of the corner of my eye for fear that lightning bolts will erupt from it's serifs and attack me.
I keep contemplating its accusation. That somehow it knows that last week I left an hour early because I looked at the clock I have yet to reset for daylight savings and decided that really WAS 4:30. That it knows that I haven't heard a word that has been said in this meeting but I stay because it might be better than being at my desk doing actual work. Maybe it knows that I sold out and took a comfortable corporate gig instead of sticking out the underpaid but oh-so-rewarding prosecution job. Maybe it has already foretold that I want to cheat on my taxes and get a bigger refund. perhaps it is judging me because even though I make all the right sounds of horror and disbelief, I secretly knew your marriage wasn't going to work and kinda want to say 'I told you so'.
Really, I just want to yell at the damn piece of cardboard. "I am not a nice person and you can't make me." So no, to answer its question. I suppose I am not ethical and sold my integrity for vacation and 401k.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Speechless with disgust.
I sometimes hate people. I really hate small minded idiotic back-assward, redneck, hillbilly, chauvinistic......you really don't need to hear the rest of this description. I recently was sitting in an office of a gentleman (and I use this term incorrectly b/c he was anything but) and having been kept waiting I surveyed his office. He had some pro-military posters, photos of guns, some prayer in needlepoint. None of those things really made me raise an eyebrow. I already had a pretty good idea of who I was dealing with and his office decor only reinforced my perception of him.
What torqued me off was his newest addition to his artistic collection. It depicted in a line, Hitler, Stalin and Obama (the latter sporting a new moustache to round out the trio). Now, I am all about the right to express yourself and your opinions. I understand that some really do not like the current President of the United States. That is their right as American citizens. Even so, this struck me as in terrible taste, especially in your office.
I sat in this man's office and couldn't concentrate because the poster distracted me. I couldn't get around it. It made me sick. I tried to keep my mouth shut. I tried to be professional. I tried to simply ignore it. I failed. Finally, I asked him how he could hang something like that in his office. He got this grin on his face and an evil look in his eye. "I knew you were one of those bleeding hearts" Okay, now I am pissed. "My political views and whether I am a fan of our current president or not has little bearing on why that is distasteful. You are comparing Obama to two of the most terrible men in modern history."
His response--what that man is doing to this country is terrible, a desecration, he is as bad as the other two, yadayadayada (I would try to recount more of his position except my blood pressure had skyrocketed so high I couldn't hear anything but the pounding in my ears).
"Quite frankly that poster makes me sick and so does your justification for displaying it. How dare you trivialize the atrocities those men committed by even suggesting that Obama's politics are on the same level! How can you disrespect the memory of so many innocents that were tortured and slaughtered? Do you understand what that poster actually does? You mean it as a dig at Obama but by suggesting that what the President has done during his service to the USA is even comparable to the other men you make what Hitler and Stalin did less horrible. You spit on the experiences of the survivors and desecrate the memory of the dead. You really should think about statements like that and the power behind them."
Him--"You could have just said you were Jewish."
WTF?!? Yeah because the only way I would be sensitive to the message that poster is sending is because I'm Jewish? "I'm not Jewish".
A look at confusion came across his face and he just shrugged at me like it was some sort of crazy mystical reason why I'm reacting the way I am.
I don't think I'm one of those overly-sensitive (I'm trying to think of the way a friend describes it), hyper-politically correct social crusader. That poster just made me sick and I think it is necessary to confront that sort of callousness.
I would really appreciate some thoughts on this. Am I a hypocrite b/c I criticized his choice of expression? Did I do the right or wrong thing?
What torqued me off was his newest addition to his artistic collection. It depicted in a line, Hitler, Stalin and Obama (the latter sporting a new moustache to round out the trio). Now, I am all about the right to express yourself and your opinions. I understand that some really do not like the current President of the United States. That is their right as American citizens. Even so, this struck me as in terrible taste, especially in your office.
I sat in this man's office and couldn't concentrate because the poster distracted me. I couldn't get around it. It made me sick. I tried to keep my mouth shut. I tried to be professional. I tried to simply ignore it. I failed. Finally, I asked him how he could hang something like that in his office. He got this grin on his face and an evil look in his eye. "I knew you were one of those bleeding hearts" Okay, now I am pissed. "My political views and whether I am a fan of our current president or not has little bearing on why that is distasteful. You are comparing Obama to two of the most terrible men in modern history."
His response--what that man is doing to this country is terrible, a desecration, he is as bad as the other two, yadayadayada (I would try to recount more of his position except my blood pressure had skyrocketed so high I couldn't hear anything but the pounding in my ears).
"Quite frankly that poster makes me sick and so does your justification for displaying it. How dare you trivialize the atrocities those men committed by even suggesting that Obama's politics are on the same level! How can you disrespect the memory of so many innocents that were tortured and slaughtered? Do you understand what that poster actually does? You mean it as a dig at Obama but by suggesting that what the President has done during his service to the USA is even comparable to the other men you make what Hitler and Stalin did less horrible. You spit on the experiences of the survivors and desecrate the memory of the dead. You really should think about statements like that and the power behind them."
Him--"You could have just said you were Jewish."
WTF?!? Yeah because the only way I would be sensitive to the message that poster is sending is because I'm Jewish? "I'm not Jewish".
A look at confusion came across his face and he just shrugged at me like it was some sort of crazy mystical reason why I'm reacting the way I am.
I don't think I'm one of those overly-sensitive (I'm trying to think of the way a friend describes it), hyper-politically correct social crusader. That poster just made me sick and I think it is necessary to confront that sort of callousness.
I would really appreciate some thoughts on this. Am I a hypocrite b/c I criticized his choice of expression? Did I do the right or wrong thing?
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Just keep walking, no matter what.
So I have long held to the theory that if you look like you know where you're going, no one will stop you to ask if you actually belong there. This trick has worked for me in the past, getting backstage at concerts and to locker rooms at sporting events. Today I found a new application for this trick. BTW, I am a bad person and karma is going to kick my ass.
MM's mom has been in the hospital in a nearby city. I have been going back and forth between where we live and this city to visit, help him, cook dinner for he and his sister, etc. Last night she took an unexpected turn and he stayed the night in the hospital. His sister and I went back to the house at roughly 2 am. I got up at 6, fed the dogs, etc. MM's dog is a big black lab who needs excercise to prevent him from being too hyper while locked in the house. So I set off on a walk with the dog at 6:30 am. I do not take baggies with me as I thought the business was done. The dog and I round the corner and are about halfway down the block where a woman is washing her car in the driveway. Who washes their car at 6:30 am? Anyway, as luck would have it, the dog decides he is having gastroinstestinal issues. He walks straight up this woman's driveway and proceeds to poo all over her concrete. I am mortified. I have no idea what to do. I have no baggies, the dog isn't on a leash (against the law), and he has just taken a dump on her driveway. In my mind, I run through a few possible scenarios but quickly decide that feigning ignorance is the best option.
In my pjs and flipflops with cigarette hanging out of my mouth, I just keep walking, pretend like the dog doesn't belong with me and that I am just out for a morning stroll. I pretend that I haven't witnessed this and that it isn't any concern of mine anyway. I just kept walking. I'm pretty sure that is one of the worst things I have ever done.
MM's mom has been in the hospital in a nearby city. I have been going back and forth between where we live and this city to visit, help him, cook dinner for he and his sister, etc. Last night she took an unexpected turn and he stayed the night in the hospital. His sister and I went back to the house at roughly 2 am. I got up at 6, fed the dogs, etc. MM's dog is a big black lab who needs excercise to prevent him from being too hyper while locked in the house. So I set off on a walk with the dog at 6:30 am. I do not take baggies with me as I thought the business was done. The dog and I round the corner and are about halfway down the block where a woman is washing her car in the driveway. Who washes their car at 6:30 am? Anyway, as luck would have it, the dog decides he is having gastroinstestinal issues. He walks straight up this woman's driveway and proceeds to poo all over her concrete. I am mortified. I have no idea what to do. I have no baggies, the dog isn't on a leash (against the law), and he has just taken a dump on her driveway. In my mind, I run through a few possible scenarios but quickly decide that feigning ignorance is the best option.
In my pjs and flipflops with cigarette hanging out of my mouth, I just keep walking, pretend like the dog doesn't belong with me and that I am just out for a morning stroll. I pretend that I haven't witnessed this and that it isn't any concern of mine anyway. I just kept walking. I'm pretty sure that is one of the worst things I have ever done.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Am I the only person who took Civ Pro?
Okay, I am totally going on a law geek rant. For those of you not interested, well you know.
Civil Procedure folks. Remember it? It generally is split into two courses cleverly named Civ Pro I and *gasp* Civ Pro II. There are even these handy dandy things called the Rules of Civil Procedure. This is not that hard. If you are a practicing attorney, you passed the effin bar exam. Civ Pro was on it, I guarantee.
Now the reason I am ranting about this you ask? Because some dumbass law firm apparently doesn't know its ass from a hole in the ground. They can't figure out the correct procedure for service of process. Now, I have to screw about with a 12(b) motion, they will ask the judge to grant them leave to correct service, the judge will grant it, theoretically they will do it right a second time and everyone's time will be wasted.
Note: If you are suing a person in their individual capacity rather than as an agent of a corporation, you must serve the person. Dropping a summons off at an office where that person does not work and has never worked....not service.
My rant for today....please do your jobs right the first time. I am too busy for this shit.
Civil Procedure folks. Remember it? It generally is split into two courses cleverly named Civ Pro I and *gasp* Civ Pro II. There are even these handy dandy things called the Rules of Civil Procedure. This is not that hard. If you are a practicing attorney, you passed the effin bar exam. Civ Pro was on it, I guarantee.
Now the reason I am ranting about this you ask? Because some dumbass law firm apparently doesn't know its ass from a hole in the ground. They can't figure out the correct procedure for service of process. Now, I have to screw about with a 12(b) motion, they will ask the judge to grant them leave to correct service, the judge will grant it, theoretically they will do it right a second time and everyone's time will be wasted.
Note: If you are suing a person in their individual capacity rather than as an agent of a corporation, you must serve the person. Dropping a summons off at an office where that person does not work and has never worked....not service.
My rant for today....please do your jobs right the first time. I am too busy for this shit.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
My shoes aren't pointy enough today
So, my friends and I have some funny statements we like to use. One of my favorites is used when frustrated or angry.
He makes me so angry I just want to kick him in the shins. Now, if any of you have ever been kicked in the shin, you know it hurts. As situations warranted we came up with other variations but the final version I believe is priceless.
I want to kick him in the shins, with the pointy shoes. You all know the shoes I am talking about. They come to a definitive point about 2 inches past the end of the toe and are hard! As you can imagine, this would cause pain when it comes into contact with someone's shin and gives me the delightful release of kicking the person who is currently the cause of my latest headache.
You may be wondering why I'm telling you about this saying between me and my girlfriends this morning. The reason is this: I was in a meeting this morning with some colleagues and one dumbass hasn't been doing his job. Well instead the man being punished, I get 'rewarded'. In other words, I get 5 of his projects on top of the rest of the shit I do. This seems more like punishment than a reward but whatever.
While sitting in this meeting and looking at the lazy ass, the thought crossed my mind that I wanted to kick him in the shins but it would have to wait till tomorrow because I am not wearing sufficiently pointy shoes today. So I left the meeting, opened Outlook calendar and created an appointment for tomorrow. The appointment says, "Wear pointy brown sling backs, comfortable pants, and kick Dumbass in the shins. Box to pack stuff in after being fired optional."
PPS: I know my feet look fat but I couldn't figure out how to take a picture of my own feet from a flattering angle. Thanks for mentioning it though.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The Bar Exam will not kill you
The following is in no way meant to condone alcoholism.
Recently someone asked me about how I prepared for the bar and the following is how I responded. I will flesh out the response below.
My strategy for studying: a) look at BarBri schedule...turn the paper over b/c surely I am looking at that upside down..that can't be right?!....b) realize how ridiculously heavy those books are and dump them in my trunk...c) Attend BarBri lectures and fill in outlines (hey I paid for it after all)....d) leave lecture and travel directly to the study room..aka Oscar's Pub, drink heavily in an attempt to kill any brain cells that weren't smart enough to retain the lecture. e) Go home and sleep till noon....f) Watch an hour of mindless tv....g)shower eat etc....h) read outline for next lecture....i) Go to BarBri lecture.
Now that seemed to work for me. Keep in mind however the week before the bar, I lugged the books out of my trunk and spent a week on my study buddy's couch while his girlfriend fed us food and booze and we studied everything that we should have been doing all summer. But I passed (and so did he) on the first try.
Now, to add some more advice: Stop freaking out! Just stop. That asshole who keeps telling you he has been following the study schedule step by step and completing all the practice question--anal retentive asshole. That's all I'm saying. It does not, I repeat DOES NOT mean he is going to pass. He just doesn't have a life.
Find an outlet, a movie, golf, bottle of vodka, whatever. Don't make yourself feel guilty for doing it.
Shower.
Eat.
Ummm did I mention shower? (personal hygiene should not be put on hold while studying).
Make sure you read the instructions about what you can and can't wear/bring to the bar exam. (No hoodies for example when I took it. No Rolaids or tums either)
Do NOT stay up the night before cramming...or if that is your style do but remember that this is a marathon and not a sprint.
Remember that the armed men at the door checking your ID and ticket will not shoot you if you fail. (Do other jurisdictions do this? When I took it the state branch of the FBI manned all the entrances complete with shoulder holsters?) My friend's reaction upon seeing this: Ohmygod, I really am gonna die if I don't pass. They have people waiting to shoot me at the door.
Don't stress about neglecting people or things right now. They have plenty of time to remind you and make you feel guilty afterwards.
After the bar exam, you and a few of your friends (but not the friends who want to rehash every single question, better yet, a bunch of strangers from the corner who will sit in silence) go to a bar and proceed to get smashed. If anyone mentions the Bar Exam dump your drink on them or throw things at them. It acts as a deterrent to the next person and provides greatly needed comic relief.
Oh yeah, if you failed to take my advice about showering while studying, remember SHOWER before the exam. Everyone else around will appreciate it.
In closing, calm down and have a drink!
Recently someone asked me about how I prepared for the bar and the following is how I responded. I will flesh out the response below.
My strategy for studying: a) look at BarBri schedule...turn the paper over b/c surely I am looking at that upside down..that can't be right?!....b) realize how ridiculously heavy those books are and dump them in my trunk...c) Attend BarBri lectures and fill in outlines (hey I paid for it after all)....d) leave lecture and travel directly to the study room..aka Oscar's Pub, drink heavily in an attempt to kill any brain cells that weren't smart enough to retain the lecture. e) Go home and sleep till noon....f) Watch an hour of mindless tv....g)shower eat etc....h) read outline for next lecture....i) Go to BarBri lecture.
Now that seemed to work for me. Keep in mind however the week before the bar, I lugged the books out of my trunk and spent a week on my study buddy's couch while his girlfriend fed us food and booze and we studied everything that we should have been doing all summer. But I passed (and so did he) on the first try.
Now, to add some more advice: Stop freaking out! Just stop. That asshole who keeps telling you he has been following the study schedule step by step and completing all the practice question--anal retentive asshole. That's all I'm saying. It does not, I repeat DOES NOT mean he is going to pass. He just doesn't have a life.
Find an outlet, a movie, golf, bottle of vodka, whatever. Don't make yourself feel guilty for doing it.
Shower.
Eat.
Ummm did I mention shower? (personal hygiene should not be put on hold while studying).
Make sure you read the instructions about what you can and can't wear/bring to the bar exam. (No hoodies for example when I took it. No Rolaids or tums either)
Do NOT stay up the night before cramming...or if that is your style do but remember that this is a marathon and not a sprint.
Remember that the armed men at the door checking your ID and ticket will not shoot you if you fail. (Do other jurisdictions do this? When I took it the state branch of the FBI manned all the entrances complete with shoulder holsters?) My friend's reaction upon seeing this: Ohmygod, I really am gonna die if I don't pass. They have people waiting to shoot me at the door.
Don't stress about neglecting people or things right now. They have plenty of time to remind you and make you feel guilty afterwards.
After the bar exam, you and a few of your friends (but not the friends who want to rehash every single question, better yet, a bunch of strangers from the corner who will sit in silence) go to a bar and proceed to get smashed. If anyone mentions the Bar Exam dump your drink on them or throw things at them. It acts as a deterrent to the next person and provides greatly needed comic relief.
Oh yeah, if you failed to take my advice about showering while studying, remember SHOWER before the exam. Everyone else around will appreciate it.
In closing, calm down and have a drink!
Friday, June 12, 2009
Absolutely nothing funny to say
So, I have run out of things to say. I am exhausted. I just looked at Sass's page and it said my last post was 4 weeks ago. Have I really not had anything to talk about for 4 weeks. What happened in the intervening time? Oh yeah...life.
Let's see: Me and Monikerless Man (we're just gonna use M.M. from now on, it's easier) and Roomie and Roomie's BF all packed up and went camping, but not just camping, it was Burning Man style. (Regional Burning Man event not terribly far so we made the trip). If you don't know Burning Man, google it. I'm not even going to attempt to describe. There was a whole lotta naked going on. But not my naked, no sireee. I have no photos....none.
I moved from Roomie's house to my new apartment. I miss Roomie and Lolo the jungle kitty but like my new place. I even suckered all my friends into helping me paint in exchange for food and booze. I don't know what got into my friends but I have a lot of booze left. (Weird, I know?) So the colors look great, but no so great with plastic tubs and boxes everywhere. I am not so good with the unpacking...also I have a very long list of necessaries (I think I am going to have to go to Fart-Mart, shit!). I have lived on my own before and was living by myself prior to moving in with Roomie, how is it possible I 'need' to buy all this crap?
I think there were a couple other things that happened. Oh yeah, work is kicking my ass. As a matter of fact, I think it has won and I'm just waiting for the final bell to ring.
On a side-note, if I schedule a meeting with you, drive 5 hours for said meeting, please have the decency to be prepared. DO NOT under any circumstances make me sit in your office for 3 hours watching you do your fucking job before we can discuss what my appointment was about b/c you're finally prepared. I will be very cranky if you do this and the five hour drive back will give plenty of time to think of creative and nasty ways to exact revenge. Just so you know.
On a happier note, M.M. and I both decided we're crazy about each other...and said it, ALOUD ...and then stared in different directions in awkward silence like we were 12. All in all it was awesome and painfully awkward. We're two grown adults acting like shy pre-adolescents...it's kinda funny.
(Disclaimer: This is a totally girlie, gushy moment I am about to describe, you have my permission to skip it).
Most people don't know this about me, but I love to dance. I am bad at said dancing but I love to dance. M.M. worked as a dance instructor, i.e. he is a good dancer. After we got everything cleaned up and ready for the movers at my new apt, he put music on and danced with me through the empty apartment. It was one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me.
That is all I have to tell you about for now.
Let's see: Me and Monikerless Man (we're just gonna use M.M. from now on, it's easier) and Roomie and Roomie's BF all packed up and went camping, but not just camping, it was Burning Man style. (Regional Burning Man event not terribly far so we made the trip). If you don't know Burning Man, google it. I'm not even going to attempt to describe. There was a whole lotta naked going on. But not my naked, no sireee. I have no photos....none.
I moved from Roomie's house to my new apartment. I miss Roomie and Lolo the jungle kitty but like my new place. I even suckered all my friends into helping me paint in exchange for food and booze. I don't know what got into my friends but I have a lot of booze left. (Weird, I know?) So the colors look great, but no so great with plastic tubs and boxes everywhere. I am not so good with the unpacking...also I have a very long list of necessaries (I think I am going to have to go to Fart-Mart, shit!). I have lived on my own before and was living by myself prior to moving in with Roomie, how is it possible I 'need' to buy all this crap?
I think there were a couple other things that happened. Oh yeah, work is kicking my ass. As a matter of fact, I think it has won and I'm just waiting for the final bell to ring.
On a side-note, if I schedule a meeting with you, drive 5 hours for said meeting, please have the decency to be prepared. DO NOT under any circumstances make me sit in your office for 3 hours watching you do your fucking job before we can discuss what my appointment was about b/c you're finally prepared. I will be very cranky if you do this and the five hour drive back will give plenty of time to think of creative and nasty ways to exact revenge. Just so you know.
On a happier note, M.M. and I both decided we're crazy about each other...and said it, ALOUD ...and then stared in different directions in awkward silence like we were 12. All in all it was awesome and painfully awkward. We're two grown adults acting like shy pre-adolescents...it's kinda funny.
(Disclaimer: This is a totally girlie, gushy moment I am about to describe, you have my permission to skip it).
Most people don't know this about me, but I love to dance. I am bad at said dancing but I love to dance. M.M. worked as a dance instructor, i.e. he is a good dancer. After we got everything cleaned up and ready for the movers at my new apt, he put music on and danced with me through the empty apartment. It was one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me.
That is all I have to tell you about for now.
Monday, May 11, 2009
I did not drown, at least not physically
I am alive, I did not drown, although my storage unit did. Let me tell you...cleaning out a storage unit, transfering things to new boxes, throwing out trash, starting to reload said unit and realizing water is seeping in from the next door unit, removing all things from said unit, moving them to a unit on the next floor while the elevator is broken..all of that is not fun. It is even less fun in heels and dress clothes. I wouldn't recommend it.
The next day while carpooling to work, my car just died....at the exchange of two busy highways...in rush hour. Nothing like looking at the poor person who had the luck to be riding w/ you and say...um..we have a problem and begin drifting to the right shoulder as soon as possible. PS to tow truck drivers...clean out your seat...I am in an expensive dress and heels, I do not want to sit on a grease-covered rag. (how girly did that sound?) Also, two women discussing a relationship do not need running commentary from you about what you think. You have met us for all of two minutes, been condescending, you're coughing without covering your mouth. What qualifies you as an expert in her relationship? P.S. Asking a woman if she is dating a married man..not cool.
Oh yeah, and Mom dropped the bomb that the lumps we've been 'monitoring' have grown and she has an appointment with an oncologist who comes highly recommended and she looks forward to meeting the doctor. All said in a very off-hand way right before, "Oh, my show's on. Gotta go" Click. Dead silence. Me staring at the phone that says, 'Mom' Call ended. 15:25. She waits 15 minutes to drop that info in the last 25 secs of a phone call? What?
I'm gonna chalk that week up as lost somewhere underwater...or was it the enormous amout of alcohol?
The next day while carpooling to work, my car just died....at the exchange of two busy highways...in rush hour. Nothing like looking at the poor person who had the luck to be riding w/ you and say...um..we have a problem and begin drifting to the right shoulder as soon as possible. PS to tow truck drivers...clean out your seat...I am in an expensive dress and heels, I do not want to sit on a grease-covered rag. (how girly did that sound?) Also, two women discussing a relationship do not need running commentary from you about what you think. You have met us for all of two minutes, been condescending, you're coughing without covering your mouth. What qualifies you as an expert in her relationship? P.S. Asking a woman if she is dating a married man..not cool.
Oh yeah, and Mom dropped the bomb that the lumps we've been 'monitoring' have grown and she has an appointment with an oncologist who comes highly recommended and she looks forward to meeting the doctor. All said in a very off-hand way right before, "Oh, my show's on. Gotta go" Click. Dead silence. Me staring at the phone that says, 'Mom' Call ended. 15:25. She waits 15 minutes to drop that info in the last 25 secs of a phone call? What?
I'm gonna chalk that week up as lost somewhere underwater...or was it the enormous amout of alcohol?
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Empty Office Shenanigans
I am the only person in my office today. No one else could be bothered to show up...something about flooding and 13 inches of rain overnight..blah blah blah. Whatever, I live 20 miles from work but I am here..slackers.
On a side note, while driving to work this morning my side of the freeways were eerily empty while the traffic going the other direction was bumper to bumper. I'm not complaining about the lack of traffic but it was like I was in one of those natural disaster action/adventure movies and I was driving into the disaster while everyone else was evacuating. I was seriously wondering if they knew something I didn't.
So I have spent the first hour and a half of work catching up on my blog reader, surfing the internet and in general screwing off. I am now blogging for your enjoyment but in the back of my mind I am thinking about what I am going to do with the completely empty office. I thought about going through all my coworkers' desks. I thought about turning up my radio and re-enacting scenes from Footloose in the hallway. I am disappointed that I took my movies out of my computer bag and took them home yesterday. I could be watching a movie! I even thought about calling up the monikerless man and satisfying a sex at work fantasy. I guess if all else fails I could actually *gasp* do some work.
I am hoping you all can come up with some other activities to do in my empty office to keep me from actually working. Any ideas?
On a side note, while driving to work this morning my side of the freeways were eerily empty while the traffic going the other direction was bumper to bumper. I'm not complaining about the lack of traffic but it was like I was in one of those natural disaster action/adventure movies and I was driving into the disaster while everyone else was evacuating. I was seriously wondering if they knew something I didn't.
So I have spent the first hour and a half of work catching up on my blog reader, surfing the internet and in general screwing off. I am now blogging for your enjoyment but in the back of my mind I am thinking about what I am going to do with the completely empty office. I thought about going through all my coworkers' desks. I thought about turning up my radio and re-enacting scenes from Footloose in the hallway. I am disappointed that I took my movies out of my computer bag and took them home yesterday. I could be watching a movie! I even thought about calling up the monikerless man and satisfying a sex at work fantasy. I guess if all else fails I could actually *gasp* do some work.
I am hoping you all can come up with some other activities to do in my empty office to keep me from actually working. Any ideas?
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Not Guility (I swear, I didn't know I was doing it)
I spend a lot of time on the phone with people I will never see face-to-face. I sometimes talk to the same people over and over again. I enjoy talking to some of these people a lot because they are funny. They don't take themselves so seriously. They appreciate that I am working my ass off to get their lease/tax/legal issue resolved.
I spent a lot of time in the last couple of months working out a lease for a single office for one of the satellite folks. He was very fun and started calling quite often. He also started calling my crackberry. I didn't really think much about it. He always had a legitimate work reason to call. Just chalked it up to a nice, funny guy.
Today he showed up in my office. (Apparently in town for some meetings) And then asked me out. AWKWARD! Apparently I had been flirting with him? How do I know this you ask? He told me that when I hesitated to accept his invitation...ie "well we'd be flirting so much back and forth on the phone I thought you'd like to go out"
As an attorney I do not believe I can be culpable as I didn't form the requisite mental state for flirting. There was no intention of flirting. So, arguably, the actus reus is present but the mens rea is absent so I cannot be guilty!
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Ah sleep
Mystery of life that I am still trying to solve....
Why is it the best 10 minutes of sleep I get all night are the ones after the alarm has went off and I have hit snooze? Why can't I sleep like that the other 6 hours I am horizontal? Why does my body chose 6:30 and an annoying buzzing sound to decide it's finally ready to get into the rhythm?
And most important, why does this happen on days I have early morning meetings?????
Why is it the best 10 minutes of sleep I get all night are the ones after the alarm has went off and I have hit snooze? Why can't I sleep like that the other 6 hours I am horizontal? Why does my body chose 6:30 and an annoying buzzing sound to decide it's finally ready to get into the rhythm?
And most important, why does this happen on days I have early morning meetings?????
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
and yet one more reason I'm going to hell
Hi all,
I haven't died or been seriously injured or kidnapped by a transvestite Johnny Depp. Instead, I've just been really frickin' busy. So this will not be a long post, or even an interesting post, just a quick rant.
I have been getting e-mails from my co-workers about their upcoming schedules. Keep in mind that I have been working so hard and so long that I haven't been able to blog. I even (gasp) worked Saturday. (Hey I'm salaried, I am not getting compensated for that.) Just to give you an idea of the e-mails.....
Upcoming schedule:
Thursday April 09 - 19/30
Friday April 10 - Holiday
Monday April 13 - Vacation
Tuesday April 14 - Vacation
Wednesday April 15-Vacation (maybe)
My assistant even declared her unavailability the 13-16th. Now that doesn't seem traitorous, but it is. the 15th is Tax Day, not just for federal income tax but for property tax in a good many states. I am in the midst of filing more than 1000 returns and my assistant takes next week off?!? Traitorous bitch....or maybe I'm the bitch and she doesn't want to be around me next week...food for thought.
Friday is a corporate holiday here. (I guess because we're all Christian and want to celebrate Good Friday instead of MLK day, WTF?) I'm pretty sure the fact that I resent Good Friday as a holiday and that I secretly envy (read seriously hate all co-workers who are taking vacation) my vacationing co-workers, I am going to hell. And guess where I will be Friday? In my office, by myself, cussing at the copy machine. Sometimes it sucks being me. Wait, isn't that the definition of Hell: Working for no money on a corporate holiday by yourself?
On the bright side, one of my co-workers made me smile with the following email:
Since everyone else is sending out a schedule I figured I should do so too. I am going to be here all week.
I feel ya Jim. We'll get beers and make fun of all those losers on vacation. It'll be fine, as soon as I'm done crying.
I haven't died or been seriously injured or kidnapped by a transvestite Johnny Depp. Instead, I've just been really frickin' busy. So this will not be a long post, or even an interesting post, just a quick rant.
I have been getting e-mails from my co-workers about their upcoming schedules. Keep in mind that I have been working so hard and so long that I haven't been able to blog. I even (gasp) worked Saturday. (Hey I'm salaried, I am not getting compensated for that.) Just to give you an idea of the e-mails.....
Upcoming schedule:
Thursday April 09 - 19/30
Friday April 10 - Holiday
Monday April 13 - Vacation
Tuesday April 14 - Vacation
Wednesday April 15-Vacation (maybe)
My assistant even declared her unavailability the 13-16th. Now that doesn't seem traitorous, but it is. the 15th is Tax Day, not just for federal income tax but for property tax in a good many states. I am in the midst of filing more than 1000 returns and my assistant takes next week off?!? Traitorous bitch....or maybe I'm the bitch and she doesn't want to be around me next week...food for thought.
Friday is a corporate holiday here. (I guess because we're all Christian and want to celebrate Good Friday instead of MLK day, WTF?) I'm pretty sure the fact that I resent Good Friday as a holiday and that I secretly envy (read seriously hate all co-workers who are taking vacation) my vacationing co-workers, I am going to hell. And guess where I will be Friday? In my office, by myself, cussing at the copy machine. Sometimes it sucks being me. Wait, isn't that the definition of Hell: Working for no money on a corporate holiday by yourself?
On the bright side, one of my co-workers made me smile with the following email:
Since everyone else is sending out a schedule I figured I should do so too. I am going to be here all week.
I feel ya Jim. We'll get beers and make fun of all those losers on vacation. It'll be fine, as soon as I'm done crying.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
and senior management fails
While sitting in another of these required corporate meetings, severe weather was threatening.(I was of course blogging from my crackberry) Senior management interrupted and explained that in the case of tornado our shelter was to be in the hallway outside of the meeting room. How nice of them to think of us .... Outside in the hallway on the highest level with walls of glass. Hmmmmmm...
Why do I suddenly feel like a telephone operator in a Douglas Adams story?
Why do I suddenly feel like a telephone operator in a Douglas Adams story?
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Why I don't tell my mother things
So, this weekend I am attending a wedding. (I know, earth-shattering, right?) And my mother and sister will be there as well, having traveled over 14 hours in a car to get there. (Still not grabbing your attention I am sure.) First off, let me declare, I love my mother. She is a pint sized dynamo who taught me to kick ass and take names. She flips the bird backwards, it's adorable. She is funny and caring and ....hmmm...how to say this....overinvolved in the lives of everyone she cares about. My friends in high school loved her but were all a little afraid of her. She was that MOM. My college friends all thought she was crazy. My law school friends only met her once at graduation (with the exception of a few).
That being said, the still-monikerless man will be attending the wedding with me. (I know, this isn't exciting to anyone. You may stop reading if you like). My mother is apparently over the moon at the prospect of my date, i.e. that I have one AND she gets to meet him. Not only has she informed all members of the extended family and friends to be in attendance of this occurence, she has also activated the family phone tree. I am getting calls from cousins and grandparents about my new relationship. (to which my normal response is similar to the strangled goose noise recently made by a co-worker)
*I'm sure anyone who reads this doesn't understand the fact that I am actually a very private person. I mean I spew all my thoughts here so surely I do so in real life, right?*
Okay, maybe I am not so private in real life either, when I start thinking about it. Really, I guess I don't tell my mother things. It opens the door to the Spanish Inquisition on any subject. She will remember the littlest detail and ask me about it 6 months later when I have completely forgotten whatever off-handed statement I made. (I think she secretly records our conversations and replays them 2 months later so she can brush up.)
Now, the reason I'm blogging about this in a completely uninteresting way is because of my mother's level of excitement. (I mean, she woke my grandma up from a nap to tell her, c'mon!). I am aware that I haven't introduced her to a man in a decade. I am aware that she suffered in my divorce like I did. I am aware she has worried in her heart-of-hearts that I am some bitter mean person who will forever be alone (not that I mind that scenario too much). Now, the scary part is....I'm quite certain she is going to interrogate said monikerless man mercilessly even though I have asked her not to. I specifically told her she is not allowed to pack the bright desk lamp she usually points in one's face as she asks questions.
So, I guess I am asking for help. Monikerless man and I haven't defined what we are. I am fine with that. However, I think my mother may have gotten a bit carried away at the novelty of the situation and has read more into his presence than was meant (ie someone to dance with and cuddle up next to in the hotel, not precursor to wedding bells). Any ideas of how to rein in the runaway (but well-meaning) mother?
Oh and while I'm thinking about it, since we haven't defined what we are, is it copasetic to introduce monikerless man as my date? (I did previously mention the whole haven't introduced someone new in a decade right? I'm a bit out of practice, obviously). Oh yeah, and do I warn him or let him walk into this completely unprepared? I am leaning towards completely unprepared...because it will be funny, for me at least :)
Friday, March 20, 2009
The inmates are running the asylum
I love my friends. I told you that I would occasionally post things that my friends say that I find funny. (If you don't, well, it's my blog and even if it's boring I'm going to keep doing it).
Today, the KU Jayhawks were playing in Round 1 of the NCAA tourney. I diligently worked (read snuck out for a long lunch with a friend to watch the first half). My friend and I left the restaurant and went back to our respective jobs. My friend is a civil engineer for the state (Since I have known him he has been in charge of several large projects on the largest interstate in the state). My friend calls me at my office to see if I can see the game online (and of course I can't, because corporate big brother stop sign popped up and told me the site is blocked). So instead, he turned his up very loudly, put the phone on speaker and let me listen to the game over the phone.
I asked him, "Don't you have work to do?"
His response, "There's a reason it takes 10 years to complete a freeway around here."
Today, the KU Jayhawks were playing in Round 1 of the NCAA tourney. I diligently worked (read snuck out for a long lunch with a friend to watch the first half). My friend and I left the restaurant and went back to our respective jobs. My friend is a civil engineer for the state (Since I have known him he has been in charge of several large projects on the largest interstate in the state). My friend calls me at my office to see if I can see the game online (and of course I can't, because corporate big brother stop sign popped up and told me the site is blocked). So instead, he turned his up very loudly, put the phone on speaker and let me listen to the game over the phone.
I asked him, "Don't you have work to do?"
His response, "There's a reason it takes 10 years to complete a freeway around here."
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
My lack of domesticity is a good thing
I have decided my lack of domesticity is a good thing (not that I spent much time lamenting it as a bad thing). For instance, $150 at the dry cleaners yesterday....locally owned, not a chain, really nice man. I am supporting small business! Yay me. I can feel good about myself. I am stimulating the economy damn it. I mean really, could I have Dryel'd those clothes a few more times and ironed them myself?....sure. (Well in theory, someone could have but seeing as how I never really mastered an iron, maybe not me per se but somebody.)
And then seeing as how it was a holiday and all.....I just had to patronize my local pub. After all they were having a celebration. Drinks and food on a patio with friends...what a sacrifice! But after all, I want to do my part as a citizen of this country. If that means I don't have to cook, clean the dishes or do laundry, well I'll just have to accept that as my cross to bear.
Monday, March 16, 2009
It's OK, he bought me a bottle of booze.
I can't make this stuff up. This is a true story.
I recently was assigned a lease renewal negotiation. I called the supervisor of the office to find out if any concerns existed or in general if there was anything I needed to know before I started haggling with the landlord.
I wasn't really expecting an answer. I wasn't really expecting anything. I definitely wasn't expecting what followed.
Tenant: No we really like the space and would like to continue letting it. (obviously we discuss other stuff like future TI dollars and rate increase etc. Just before hanging up the following happened).
Me: Okay, well that pretty much tells me what I need to know. Do you have any concerns or issues you'd like addressed while I am renegotiating the lease?
Tenant: Not really that I can think of off the top of my head... Well, it's a small thing really. I don't want to bother you.
ME: No bother at all. this is my job. What is going on and I'll see what we can do.
Tenant: Well, could you maybe see if we could get the heat turned on?
ME: Do you mean you don't have a thermostat to regulate your space's temperature (making mental list to check lease about utility costs and whether triple net lease or not, i.e. half listening to response)
Tenant: No, the heater broke during last winter and it was cold.
ME: I'm sorry I thought you said the heater broke? For how long? (still thinking a short period of time)
Tenant: A couple months
ME: I'm sorry but, You had no heat. At All. in your office in Northern New York for a Couple Months?
Tenant: Yeah
ME: Did you call anybody and let them know this was going on?
Tenant: Yeah
ME: Who?
Tenant: The landlord.
ME: Why didn't you call my office?!
Tenant: How are you gonna fix the heater? You're in *home office city*
ME: I know that I'm not there but I can contact the landlord and demand that the service be restored.
Tenant: Well that's what I did. I don't need a lawyer to do that. I demanded that they turn on the heat.
ME: Did you document the demand in writing? Did you follow up with a second demand? thinking to myself very irritated, did you manage to get the heat turned on?
Tenant: No, only a lawyer would do something like that.
[SIDE NOTE: to those of you that read this, that is not true, right? I mean when you're demanding something from a business that might eventually need to have a judge solve it, you put it in writing, right? If your answer is no, please begin to do this immediately. Send it certified. A lawyer told you so.]
ME: Okay, when something like this happens, you need to contact my office. The company paid rent when it should have been withheld. What you are describing is a constructive eviction.
Tenant: I'm being evicted? Why?
ME: No, when the heat wasn't on, that qualifies as a constructive eviction which means
Tenant: (interrupting) you mean I was evicted and you didn't do anything about it? That's why I didn't have heat? What do we pay you for? How'd you get them to let me back in?
ME: No, you weren't actually evicted...constructive eviction is....nevermind, forget about eviction. When the landlord doesn't turn on the heat, air conditioning, water or any other needful service that is required in the lease (I read said lease to him), I need to know immediately. That way, we can withhold rent and break the lease and collect damages or deal with the landlord so he prorates the rent or pays to supply other space until the problem can be fixed. That type of thing is exactly what I get paid for, but only if I am made aware of it. Actually just call me when anything goes wrong, not just those things I listed. I mean it.
Tenant: Does that mean my rent is free next year?
ME: No, because you didn't let me know about it when it happened and we kept occupying the space, we don't have a cause of action.
Tenant: Oh well, I guess that's okay. The landlord bought me a bottle of booze.
I am thinking that must be some liquor considering we pay thousands of dollards per month to lease this space. I hope it kept him warm in his cold office, but the pressing question is: Did he pass the bottle around to the other people that work there? I'm guessing the knowledge that the landlord bought him a bottle of booze was little consolation while they froze their asses off! Sheesh.
I recently was assigned a lease renewal negotiation. I called the supervisor of the office to find out if any concerns existed or in general if there was anything I needed to know before I started haggling with the landlord.
I wasn't really expecting an answer. I wasn't really expecting anything. I definitely wasn't expecting what followed.
Tenant: No we really like the space and would like to continue letting it. (obviously we discuss other stuff like future TI dollars and rate increase etc. Just before hanging up the following happened).
Me: Okay, well that pretty much tells me what I need to know. Do you have any concerns or issues you'd like addressed while I am renegotiating the lease?
Tenant: Not really that I can think of off the top of my head... Well, it's a small thing really. I don't want to bother you.
ME: No bother at all. this is my job. What is going on and I'll see what we can do.
Tenant: Well, could you maybe see if we could get the heat turned on?
ME: Do you mean you don't have a thermostat to regulate your space's temperature (making mental list to check lease about utility costs and whether triple net lease or not, i.e. half listening to response)
Tenant: No, the heater broke during last winter and it was cold.
ME: I'm sorry I thought you said the heater broke? For how long? (still thinking a short period of time)
Tenant: A couple months
ME: I'm sorry but, You had no heat. At All. in your office in Northern New York for a Couple Months?
Tenant: Yeah
ME: Did you call anybody and let them know this was going on?
Tenant: Yeah
ME: Who?
Tenant: The landlord.
ME: Why didn't you call my office?!
Tenant: How are you gonna fix the heater? You're in *home office city*
ME: I know that I'm not there but I can contact the landlord and demand that the service be restored.
Tenant: Well that's what I did. I don't need a lawyer to do that. I demanded that they turn on the heat.
ME: Did you document the demand in writing? Did you follow up with a second demand? thinking to myself very irritated, did you manage to get the heat turned on?
Tenant: No, only a lawyer would do something like that.
[SIDE NOTE: to those of you that read this, that is not true, right? I mean when you're demanding something from a business that might eventually need to have a judge solve it, you put it in writing, right? If your answer is no, please begin to do this immediately. Send it certified. A lawyer told you so.]
ME: Okay, when something like this happens, you need to contact my office. The company paid rent when it should have been withheld. What you are describing is a constructive eviction.
Tenant: I'm being evicted? Why?
ME: No, when the heat wasn't on, that qualifies as a constructive eviction which means
Tenant: (interrupting) you mean I was evicted and you didn't do anything about it? That's why I didn't have heat? What do we pay you for? How'd you get them to let me back in?
ME: No, you weren't actually evicted...constructive eviction is....nevermind, forget about eviction. When the landlord doesn't turn on the heat, air conditioning, water or any other needful service that is required in the lease (I read said lease to him), I need to know immediately. That way, we can withhold rent and break the lease and collect damages or deal with the landlord so he prorates the rent or pays to supply other space until the problem can be fixed. That type of thing is exactly what I get paid for, but only if I am made aware of it. Actually just call me when anything goes wrong, not just those things I listed. I mean it.
Tenant: Does that mean my rent is free next year?
ME: No, because you didn't let me know about it when it happened and we kept occupying the space, we don't have a cause of action.
Tenant: Oh well, I guess that's okay. The landlord bought me a bottle of booze.
I am thinking that must be some liquor considering we pay thousands of dollards per month to lease this space. I hope it kept him warm in his cold office, but the pressing question is: Did he pass the bottle around to the other people that work there? I'm guessing the knowledge that the landlord bought him a bottle of booze was little consolation while they froze their asses off! Sheesh.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
I am not God, nor a priest, nor a path to enlightenment.
Okay, so sometimes you need to tell a friend something and sometimes you really don't. Sometimes confessing doesn't help, it harms. Sometimes the twisted need you feel to confess is really just a desire to switch the weight of what you've done onto someone else's shoulders.
Confessing in these situations doesn't make you a better person. It makes you lazy and selfish.
Get a blog. Talk about it on myspace. Go confess at the Church of Sass.
I don't give a shit really but don't burden me with something that I didn't need to know and now makes our relationship ultra-weird.
If we have already had an awkward moment and conversation months ago and have both moved on from that, do not, I repeat DO NOT, call me at midnight to confess.
Okay so months ago, after a little too much to drink, we shared one of those, "Are we going to kiss?" moments. The answer then was no. *remember your girlfriend b/c I did* The answer now is no. Your fiance deserves better than this. Confess to her if you want to confess. I don't need to know that you think about me and that moment a lot and wonder what if? I spite-f*cked your friend. We talked about our weird moment after it happened, got it straighted out, I started dating someone, you got engaged. I don't feel guilty. Nothing happened. If you feel the need to confess this to me because you feel guilty, really I am the wrong outlet. That is what your parents, your priest or your God is for. Not me. END OF STORY.
You want to know (I'm not sure if this is the best or worst) part. You don't even know I blog so you won't be reading this. You won't get this fabulous piece of advice. As if it wasn't too late already. Sheesh.
Confessing in these situations doesn't make you a better person. It makes you lazy and selfish.
Get a blog. Talk about it on myspace. Go confess at the Church of Sass.
I don't give a shit really but don't burden me with something that I didn't need to know and now makes our relationship ultra-weird.
If we have already had an awkward moment and conversation months ago and have both moved on from that, do not, I repeat DO NOT, call me at midnight to confess.
Okay so months ago, after a little too much to drink, we shared one of those, "Are we going to kiss?" moments. The answer then was no. *remember your girlfriend b/c I did* The answer now is no. Your fiance deserves better than this. Confess to her if you want to confess. I don't need to know that you think about me and that moment a lot and wonder what if? I spite-f*cked your friend. We talked about our weird moment after it happened, got it straighted out, I started dating someone, you got engaged. I don't feel guilty. Nothing happened. If you feel the need to confess this to me because you feel guilty, really I am the wrong outlet. That is what your parents, your priest or your God is for. Not me. END OF STORY.
You want to know (I'm not sure if this is the best or worst) part. You don't even know I blog so you won't be reading this. You won't get this fabulous piece of advice. As if it wasn't too late already. Sheesh.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The most awesome cover letter EVER
I ran across a story about the most awesome cover letter ever.
For those of us who have searched and searched for legal jobs, we feel this applicant's pain and frustration....and we secretly laugh because WE'D never do anything like this. (Right?...hmmm...they always say make your cover letter stand out...hmm)
For those of us who have searched and searched for legal jobs, we feel this applicant's pain and frustration....and we secretly laugh because WE'D never do anything like this. (Right?...hmmm...they always say make your cover letter stand out...hmm)
Yeah, right
So my company has been laying people off. Thankfully I am not one of them (Although if I keep logging into blogger all the time maybe not for long). Today I received a corporate email that said "....[We] ask each of you to remain confident in our strategy and ability to meet the ever-evolving challenges of our industry; confident in our focus in making sure that we have the best talent...."
How are we supposed to remain confident when people are being escorted out of the building?
How are we supposed to remain confident when our bonuses were awful and we aren't receiving raises?
How are we...never mind, you get the picture. Am I the only person who reacts this way when I receive these e-mails? They are meant to be reassuring and warm and fuzzy, I think. It just doesn't strike me that way.
Maybe b/c in this same e-mail it mentions that the current lay-off notifications have brought us in line with our current budget, but the company continues to assess the business climate and our overall competitiveness.
In other words, take a breath now suckers b/c just because you missed the firing squad this time doesn't mean the ax-man isn't waiting in the wings.
HMMM, wonder why I don't feel reassured?
Monday, March 9, 2009
Stupid Calendars
So Friday I received a meeting notice from my boss for Monday.
I didn't sleep well last night. Did NOT want to get up this morning. Alarm goes off, roomie getting ready, think that I should hit snooze and sleep till she is done. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat (except this time not snooze but power button). Wake up, look at clock.
PANIC!!
I am late for said meeting. Run around like mad woman. Cannot find matching shoes. Run around some more. Step over cat numerous times as he bites ankles. Run down stairs, get in car. Pull out crackberry, open Outlook calendar. No meeting. Where is the meeting? Why isn't it here? More panic. Have I already been fired?
Scroll forward on crackberry.
Meeting next Monday.
Apparently I didn't look at said meeting notice closely.
Look for next Monday's recount of the repeat performance.
Friday, March 6, 2009
One of two things must happen
I have decided, one of two things must happen within the next 2 hours. I either need to be on a golf course teeing off or I need to be on a patio with an enormous cocktail. Either way, I need to be outside enjoying the beautiful weather and not staring at an SAP screen and flipping off an Excel window.
If one of these two things fail to happen, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.
If one of these two things fail to happen, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Funny Statements, Confessions and other randomness
Coworker bursts into my office: "I swear no one listens. I've been dating this girl for 6 months and we got into a huge fight last night. Huge. She was a total irate bitch. And then you know what she does today, do you? She sends me COOKIES. COOKIES!?! I don't eat that shit. You know I don't eat that kinda crap. Has she not be listening to me the entire time?"
ME to the 6 people I am in the middle of a conference call with: "Anybody got any advice for him? I keep telling him to dump her but now she's sent cookies. Maybe she's a keeper after all?"
Coworker: some sort of strangled goose noise. "Sorry" and leaves my office.
Yay speakerphones!
So I am fairly certain I have a defect somewhere. I had a crappy day and called (I need to come up with a moniker for this person) who'd also had a crappy day. He came over and in general was the perfect person. He got me to laugh, soaped, coddled and cuddled me. It was great. Loved every second. He even suffered through me watching KU lose to Texas Tech (which is a touchy subject w/ me). In all, he was the best sport ever. So bedtime, and this is where the defect comes in. Ladies, are you ever flabbergasted at the speed in which the male species can fall asleep? It never ceases to amaze me! So rather than be content that I am still being cuddled and that I'm warm and fuzzy, guess what I do? Do I smile at his ability to drop off in three seconds? Am I infinitely understanding because he has just spent the evening being so sweet to me? Am I a beautiful goddess who sighs and drapes her silk clad body over his? (Pphht, I can't even say that w/ a straight face).
No, of course I don't do any of those things. Instead, right as he is starting to sleep deeply (i.e. snore), I poke him in the ribs to wake him up. And when he wakes up I pretend I'm asleep. And I don't do this once, not twice, but three times. It provided great entertainment for me but I think some crappy sleep for him.
Lisa recently asked me for more words to use for poop. Normally I can't say that anything would come to mind but I heard one on the radio the other day that I thought was funny. Especially since I missed the first part of the story. So, apparently Tootsie Roll is an euphemism for poop. I didn't know. But there ya have it Lisa. Tootsie roll. Now I'm not sure I would use this one w/ little ones because I can see this being a cause for some rather disturbing misunderstandings. However, I will keep a lookout for other terms for you while I traipse along.
ME to the 6 people I am in the middle of a conference call with: "Anybody got any advice for him? I keep telling him to dump her but now she's sent cookies. Maybe she's a keeper after all?"
Coworker: some sort of strangled goose noise. "Sorry" and leaves my office.
Yay speakerphones!
So I am fairly certain I have a defect somewhere. I had a crappy day and called (I need to come up with a moniker for this person) who'd also had a crappy day. He came over and in general was the perfect person. He got me to laugh, soaped, coddled and cuddled me. It was great. Loved every second. He even suffered through me watching KU lose to Texas Tech (which is a touchy subject w/ me). In all, he was the best sport ever. So bedtime, and this is where the defect comes in. Ladies, are you ever flabbergasted at the speed in which the male species can fall asleep? It never ceases to amaze me! So rather than be content that I am still being cuddled and that I'm warm and fuzzy, guess what I do? Do I smile at his ability to drop off in three seconds? Am I infinitely understanding because he has just spent the evening being so sweet to me? Am I a beautiful goddess who sighs and drapes her silk clad body over his? (Pphht, I can't even say that w/ a straight face).
No, of course I don't do any of those things. Instead, right as he is starting to sleep deeply (i.e. snore), I poke him in the ribs to wake him up. And when he wakes up I pretend I'm asleep. And I don't do this once, not twice, but three times. It provided great entertainment for me but I think some crappy sleep for him.
Lisa recently asked me for more words to use for poop. Normally I can't say that anything would come to mind but I heard one on the radio the other day that I thought was funny. Especially since I missed the first part of the story. So, apparently Tootsie Roll is an euphemism for poop. I didn't know. But there ya have it Lisa. Tootsie roll. Now I'm not sure I would use this one w/ little ones because I can see this being a cause for some rather disturbing misunderstandings. However, I will keep a lookout for other terms for you while I traipse along.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Realization, Capitalization, and other Nominalizations
For those of you who were worried, I have not be wandering around in the Labyrinth of my mind since my last post. (Don't go that way, never go that way.....if she'd gone that way she would have gone straight to the castle) Sorry, you either get the reference or you don't. My younger sis came to visit and then I was sick and now I am still sick and back at work. Yay me!
So yesterday, I am in a meeting with some bigwigs and an outside vendor has come to present to us. There is something about corporate-speak that makes me want to claw out the tongue of the person speaking. (I stand by this as normal behavior, otherwise Office Space and Dilbert wouldn't be so popular).
So after he used the words realization, capitalization, leverage and a couple other -tion words in one sentence I was about to go insane. The nominalization of words doesn't make you sound smarter!!!! As a matter of fact, in strict proper English, nominalizations probably mean that you are now using a passive tense verb since you have now made a noun out of what would have been your active verb. Puh-lease stop!!!
And I heard a new one yesterday. One that I had not heard before but I heard about 20 times in a 45 minute presentation which is why it stuck with me. C-Suite.
Does anybody know what the hell C-Suite means? I'll tell you what it means (as best as I gathered from the context in which it was used). Corporate Suite, upper management, the bigwigs etc. But could he call them that? NO, had to use a term that sounds really cool, like C-Suite....jeez. Give me a break.
So yesterday, I am in a meeting with some bigwigs and an outside vendor has come to present to us. There is something about corporate-speak that makes me want to claw out the tongue of the person speaking. (I stand by this as normal behavior, otherwise Office Space and Dilbert wouldn't be so popular).
So after he used the words realization, capitalization, leverage and a couple other -tion words in one sentence I was about to go insane. The nominalization of words doesn't make you sound smarter!!!! As a matter of fact, in strict proper English, nominalizations probably mean that you are now using a passive tense verb since you have now made a noun out of what would have been your active verb. Puh-lease stop!!!
And I heard a new one yesterday. One that I had not heard before but I heard about 20 times in a 45 minute presentation which is why it stuck with me. C-Suite.
Does anybody know what the hell C-Suite means? I'll tell you what it means (as best as I gathered from the context in which it was used). Corporate Suite, upper management, the bigwigs etc. But could he call them that? NO, had to use a term that sounds really cool, like C-Suite....jeez. Give me a break.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
My head is a scary place to be....
Hmmm...I was thinking about dumping a load of insecurity here, but then I thought it might ruin the cocky, self-assured attitude I've built here, and then I thought well screw it, it's my blog.
I am not good at relationships. Well, that's not completely true. I am GREAT at being friends. Unfortunately, I am not so good at anything else. Living in my head with my own voices and those from the past who will remain nameless is not always a good place to be.
For those of you who know me, you know the stories; for others: I was describing my past to a recent friend and she's like, "That's some heavy baggage to carry." I said, "I don't really carry it around anymore as much as it's in storage and every once in a while I drop by for a visit." Buh-lieve me when I say, this is progress.
I had a wonderful time tonight w/ my girlfriends but was supposed to be greeted by the other person in my new relationship when we were done w/ dinner. Call--there is no answer, text and no response. Now in all likelihood, this person is probably asleep on the couch or whatever having worked like a dog already this week. However, it's my B-day and feel like if nothing else there should have been a msg saying something to the effect of I'm tired and going to bed. I got a msg on my way to dinner saying have a good time but no response after. While I'm sure it is something that isn't a big deal, being in my head is a scary place. As a matter of fact, it is this type of thing that 6 months ago, regardless of the reason/apology/etc I would have quit taking calls, deleted the phone number and in general cut this person from my life. A year ago or more, there wouldn't have been a question of this happening b/c I wouldn't have given my number to someone. A bit reactionary, I know.
Now, I'm not sure what the appropriate response should be. I don't want to overreact but also am not gonna take BS sitting down. Sheesh, I am pathetic. And to think, I am a grown woman. I sound like a blithering idiotic teen.
Shit! This is why I don't date!!!! I don't even like people this much.
Anyway, I ended up having a happy evening with my friends even if it didn't end w/ a happy ending. :)
Gotta love the friends!
UPDATE:
So, I was overreacting. Go figure! As I suspected, he had fallen asleep and considering that he was been sick since that night I really can't be too upset. I can, however, blame him for getting me sick :P
I am not good at relationships. Well, that's not completely true. I am GREAT at being friends. Unfortunately, I am not so good at anything else. Living in my head with my own voices and those from the past who will remain nameless is not always a good place to be.
For those of you who know me, you know the stories; for others: I was describing my past to a recent friend and she's like, "That's some heavy baggage to carry." I said, "I don't really carry it around anymore as much as it's in storage and every once in a while I drop by for a visit." Buh-lieve me when I say, this is progress.
I had a wonderful time tonight w/ my girlfriends but was supposed to be greeted by the other person in my new relationship when we were done w/ dinner. Call--there is no answer, text and no response. Now in all likelihood, this person is probably asleep on the couch or whatever having worked like a dog already this week. However, it's my B-day and feel like if nothing else there should have been a msg saying something to the effect of I'm tired and going to bed. I got a msg on my way to dinner saying have a good time but no response after. While I'm sure it is something that isn't a big deal, being in my head is a scary place. As a matter of fact, it is this type of thing that 6 months ago, regardless of the reason/apology/etc I would have quit taking calls, deleted the phone number and in general cut this person from my life. A year ago or more, there wouldn't have been a question of this happening b/c I wouldn't have given my number to someone. A bit reactionary, I know.
Now, I'm not sure what the appropriate response should be. I don't want to overreact but also am not gonna take BS sitting down. Sheesh, I am pathetic. And to think, I am a grown woman. I sound like a blithering idiotic teen.
Shit! This is why I don't date!!!! I don't even like people this much.
Anyway, I ended up having a happy evening with my friends even if it didn't end w/ a happy ending. :)
Gotta love the friends!
UPDATE:
So, I was overreacting. Go figure! As I suspected, he had fallen asleep and considering that he was been sick since that night I really can't be too upset. I can, however, blame him for getting me sick :P
Corporate Indoctrinization and General Brainwashing
I just spent the better part of two hours listening to a recorded meeting about safety procedures and outlining OSHA's VPP program.
And I'm supposed to be excited about this because? And apparently there are 3 more to come. HR and other teams obviously spent some serious time and effort planning this. They even had a mock stairway to teach all of us how to walk up and down stairs correctly. I feel so much safer already.
Love working for a huge company sometimes :)
And I'm supposed to be excited about this because? And apparently there are 3 more to come. HR and other teams obviously spent some serious time and effort planning this. They even had a mock stairway to teach all of us how to walk up and down stairs correctly. I feel so much safer already.
Love working for a huge company sometimes :)
Monday, February 16, 2009
Strange Observations
So, I'm just wondering if anyone else has noticed this and thought there might be something wrong with this. I'm wandering around CVS the other night waiting for a prescription to be filled and I come across the aisle where the condoms are kept. They are now kept behind locked glass!?! When did this start? (And what does that say about my sex life that I didn't know?)
I am trying to put my finger on why this disturbs me so much. It really irks me. Maybe it's because if someone is willing to steal condoms to practice safe sex we shouldn't make it harder should we? Not that I condone petty theft, mind you...but...
I am trying to put my finger on why this disturbs me so much. It really irks me. Maybe it's because if someone is willing to steal condoms to practice safe sex we shouldn't make it harder should we? Not that I condone petty theft, mind you...but...
Friday, February 13, 2009
One Pissed Off Judge
For those of you who like to read this for my humor, this really isn't funny.
Well I don't know if that's true; I find it funny, but in a lawyerly, geeky way. It's kinda like laughing at the kid who is being called up to the front of the class for doing something naughty. Not that I would ever do such an insensitive, mean-spirited thing :) I would never take pleasure in another person's humiliation or pain...hmmm, right.
A judge in the W. D. La is pissed off at a couple local attorneys. In a recent memorandum opinion, the judge has ordered the two named partners to show cause why he should not impose R. 11 sanctions. (In my humble opinion, he SHOULD). For non-attorneys, Rule 11 sanctions = BAD. And making every lawyer in the firm appear and show cause is extraordinary! (and very laugh-behind-your-hand funny)
For those of you that read this and had the pleasure, OBVIOUSLY these guys didn't have Concannon for Civ. Pro.
Oh and on a tangently-related topic, (is that a word) guess what?!? You know how we said we would never need to know the Rule against Perpetuities? We were WRONG!!! Well maybe you guys don't need to know it, but I apparently do. I was reading a contract where that came up this week. WTF?!? Who still writes contracts like that? I had to go look up the damn rule and then try to figure out the life-in-being? I felt like I was back in law school nerdsville for a bit.
Okay, sorry to everyone that this didn't mean anything to. Every once in a while I am a complete geek.
Well I don't know if that's true; I find it funny, but in a lawyerly, geeky way. It's kinda like laughing at the kid who is being called up to the front of the class for doing something naughty. Not that I would ever do such an insensitive, mean-spirited thing :) I would never take pleasure in another person's humiliation or pain...hmmm, right.
A judge in the W. D. La is pissed off at a couple local attorneys. In a recent memorandum opinion, the judge has ordered the two named partners to show cause why he should not impose R. 11 sanctions. (In my humble opinion, he SHOULD). For non-attorneys, Rule 11 sanctions = BAD. And making every lawyer in the firm appear and show cause is extraordinary! (and very laugh-behind-your-hand funny)
For those of you that read this and had the pleasure, OBVIOUSLY these guys didn't have Concannon for Civ. Pro.
Oh and on a tangently-related topic, (is that a word) guess what?!? You know how we said we would never need to know the Rule against Perpetuities? We were WRONG!!! Well maybe you guys don't need to know it, but I apparently do. I was reading a contract where that came up this week. WTF?!? Who still writes contracts like that? I had to go look up the damn rule and then try to figure out the life-in-being? I felt like I was back in law school nerdsville for a bit.
Okay, sorry to everyone that this didn't mean anything to. Every once in a while I am a complete geek.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Funny Statements and Things Not to Do At Work
Because I have witty and clever friends, I have decided to start recording things my friends say that I like.
So, the first quote comes from a co-worker describing the last fight with his on-again, off-again girlfriend. He was asking me for advice as to how to make up with her. I am afraid I wasn't much help as I was laughing too hard. If there is any sage wisdom out there, I will pass it along to him :) At dinner:
"Someone at this table is being a bitch....and it isn't me."
So, as is somewhat evident from my blog (or I think it's evident), I don't really think in a linear fashion. For this reason, I love the Shuffle setting on my IPod. It is almost as scattered and spastic as I am. However, I learned an important lesson today, either create a work play list or leave the shuffle function off.
Apparently it appears somewhat unprofessional when Bossman walks by my office with two other bigwigs and hears Bloodhound Gang sing about about sex and the Discovery Channel. If only they had come by one song earlier or two songs later. Immediately previous, Dr. John and two songs later, Righteous Brothers. Maybe I should just be thankful they didn't hear the Primus song that came on next?
So, the first quote comes from a co-worker describing the last fight with his on-again, off-again girlfriend. He was asking me for advice as to how to make up with her. I am afraid I wasn't much help as I was laughing too hard. If there is any sage wisdom out there, I will pass it along to him :) At dinner:
"Someone at this table is being a bitch....and it isn't me."
So, as is somewhat evident from my blog (or I think it's evident), I don't really think in a linear fashion. For this reason, I love the Shuffle setting on my IPod. It is almost as scattered and spastic as I am. However, I learned an important lesson today, either create a work play list or leave the shuffle function off.
Apparently it appears somewhat unprofessional when Bossman walks by my office with two other bigwigs and hears Bloodhound Gang sing about about sex and the Discovery Channel. If only they had come by one song earlier or two songs later. Immediately previous, Dr. John and two songs later, Righteous Brothers. Maybe I should just be thankful they didn't hear the Primus song that came on next?
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
A Sweaty, Smelly Day
Chronicle of my Day:
630..ready for work, have time to make and DRINK coffee before leaving
7:30...drop car off at car fixing place and get shuttle to work
7:48...Facebook status = Random Real Estate is feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Feeling very positive and optimistic
8:15...Take phone call regarding how to figure rent for a fixture that is recessed and flush-mounted to the wall (don't ask, but general geeky hilarity ensues)
9:30...discuss problem with Bossman
10:07...asked to review property tax valuations on assets
10:08...realized I don't know crap about valuing this type of asset
10:09...called Admin and asked who normally reviews these values
10:10...started to sweat
10:35...found out the income data needed for me to review the values is in SAP
10:36...feeling much better about myself b/c now I know where to get the information (See, I can do this).
10:42...I can't figure out how to use SAP
10:43...continue sweating
10:45...Maybe if I do this, or this, or this it will work?
11:00...Call Admin ask for help with SAP. Am promised a name and number in 30 min.
11:02...distracted by shiny object
11:35...miss Admin's call (she's five minutes late with the information)
11:45...Go to lunch
12:30... return from lunch
12:31...check messages, car center place called...repairs will be 500
12:32...Realize they said $500 DOLLARS WTF?!?
12:33...Continue to string together an amazing assortment of curse words, 500???
12:45...finish cursing the heavens, earth, Pontiac, the @ss who ran me off the road, metal that bends, tires, and life in general
12:47...realize that I am quite sweaty but figure I'll cool down and dry off now that I am no longer trying to burst a blood vessel by raising my blood pressure.
1:00...Call computer guru guy
1:20...Confident I can now beat SAP
1:30...made it through the first SAP world but failed on my second. Yes, I want to play again. I can do this.
1:45...Failure again. A computer program will not beat me. I will persevere
2:15...Now this is a matter of pride. I can do this, and without calling Guru guy back.
2:17...Car Center calls back...$75 extra for the fancy sensor...grrrr!!
2:20...Attack SAP again. I will win damn it!
2:30...Not ready to admit defeat.
2:45...Retreat may be imminent
3:00...I am beat and broken by SAP.
3:15...realize that I smell and forgot to put deodorant on today.
Currently, Can I go home?
630..ready for work, have time to make and DRINK coffee before leaving
7:30...drop car off at car fixing place and get shuttle to work
7:48...Facebook status = Random Real Estate is feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Feeling very positive and optimistic
8:15...Take phone call regarding how to figure rent for a fixture that is recessed and flush-mounted to the wall (don't ask, but general geeky hilarity ensues)
9:30...discuss problem with Bossman
10:07...asked to review property tax valuations on assets
10:08...realized I don't know crap about valuing this type of asset
10:09...called Admin and asked who normally reviews these values
10:10...started to sweat
10:35...found out the income data needed for me to review the values is in SAP
10:36...feeling much better about myself b/c now I know where to get the information (See, I can do this).
10:42...I can't figure out how to use SAP
10:43...continue sweating
10:45...Maybe if I do this, or this, or this it will work?
11:00...Call Admin ask for help with SAP. Am promised a name and number in 30 min.
11:02...distracted by shiny object
11:35...miss Admin's call (she's five minutes late with the information)
11:45...Go to lunch
12:30... return from lunch
12:31...check messages, car center place called...repairs will be 500
12:32...Realize they said $500 DOLLARS WTF?!?
12:33...Continue to string together an amazing assortment of curse words, 500???
12:45...finish cursing the heavens, earth, Pontiac, the @ss who ran me off the road, metal that bends, tires, and life in general
12:47...realize that I am quite sweaty but figure I'll cool down and dry off now that I am no longer trying to burst a blood vessel by raising my blood pressure.
1:00...Call computer guru guy
1:20...Confident I can now beat SAP
1:30...made it through the first SAP world but failed on my second. Yes, I want to play again. I can do this.
1:45...Failure again. A computer program will not beat me. I will persevere
2:15...Now this is a matter of pride. I can do this, and without calling Guru guy back.
2:17...Car Center calls back...$75 extra for the fancy sensor...grrrr!!
2:20...Attack SAP again. I will win damn it!
2:30...Not ready to admit defeat.
2:45...Retreat may be imminent
3:00...I am beat and broken by SAP.
3:15...realize that I smell and forgot to put deodorant on today.
Currently, Can I go home?
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Torturing the Admin
So, I started feeling guilty today about the project I handed off to the admin with about 30 seconds of explanation, an e-mail typed under the table with my Crackberry (spelling and punctuation optional), and roughly 7 inches worth of documents as I ran out the door late to my second meeting of the morning, which for some reason, she had scheduled 2 min after the first one on separate sides of a several hundred acre complex?!?
Now I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't be feeling guilt. After all, if I were a completely self-sufficient, extremely efficient, be able to be in 2 places at once, and in general be able to pull my own head out of my ass type person, she'd be without a job. Maybe she should feel good about the 7 inches of documents to sort, scan and upload. Yeah, that's it. Right?
In short, I love my admin and if she ever leaves me I don't know what I'll do, but I do know what I won't be doing: showing up to anywhere on time or remotely prepared. In general, I'd fall apart.
Do you think a bottle of booze for Valentine's Day makes up for the crappy job, i.e. taking care of me?
Now I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't be feeling guilt. After all, if I were a completely self-sufficient, extremely efficient, be able to be in 2 places at once, and in general be able to pull my own head out of my ass type person, she'd be without a job. Maybe she should feel good about the 7 inches of documents to sort, scan and upload. Yeah, that's it. Right?
In short, I love my admin and if she ever leaves me I don't know what I'll do, but I do know what I won't be doing: showing up to anywhere on time or remotely prepared. In general, I'd fall apart.
Do you think a bottle of booze for Valentine's Day makes up for the crappy job, i.e. taking care of me?
I am a Bette.....No really!
I liked it. What can I say? Besides I thought it was accurate, especially the How to Get Along with Me section. Now you know a little more about me and I didn't even have to fill out one of those damn annoying Top 25 surveys.
Your result for Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz...
You Are a Bette!
You are a Bette -- "I must be strong"
Bettes are direct, self-reliant, self-confident, and protective.
How to Get Along with Me
- * Stand up for yourself... and me.
- * Be confident, strong, and direct.
- * Don't gossip about me or betray my trust.
- * Be vulnerable and share your feelings. See and acknowledge my tender, vulnerable side.
- * Give me space to be alone.
- * Acknowledge the contributions I make, but don't flatter me.
- * I often speak in an assertive way. Don't automatically assume it's a personal attack.
- * When I scream, curse, and stomp around, try to remember that's just the way I am.
What I Like About Being a Bette
- * being independent and self-reliant
- * being able to take charge and meet challenges head on
- * being courageous, straightforward, and honest
- * getting all the enjoyment I can out of life
- * supporting, empowering, and protecting those close to me
- * upholding just causes
What's Hard About Being a Bette
- * overwhelming people with my bluntness; scaring them away when I don't intend to
- * being restless and impatient with others' incompetence
- * sticking my neck out for people and receiving no appreciation for it
- * never forgetting injuries or injustices
- * putting too much pressure on myself
- * getting high blood pressure when people don't obey the rules or when things don't go right
Bettes as Children Often
- * are independent; have an inner strength and a fighting spirit
- * are sometimes loners
- * seize control so they won't be controlled
- * figure out others' weaknesses
- * attack verbally or physically when provoked
- * take charge in the family because they perceive themselves as the strongest, or grow up in difficult or abusive surroundings
Bettes as Parents
- * are often loyal, caring, involved, and devoted
- * are sometimes overprotective
- * can be demanding, controlling, and rigid
Reasons I won't shop at Wal-Mart
In honor of Sass's flurry of thoughts, I thought I would expand on the Wal-Mart experience and why I won't shop there. I wrote the following post sometime in 2006 but thought I'd repost it here. Now, I realize that other people have very lofty reasons why they boycott Wal-Mart:
Sub-standard wages
Refusal to provide health insurance
Community impact
Poor working conditions --getting trampled to death for crap money seems like a problem.
Those are all good reasons. I can respect all of them. Mine are a bit more ...hmmm...the word, what is the word? (Maybe you can supply the adjective when you've read the following)
So, the last two times I have went to Wal-Mart weird things have happened to me.....I've made an executive decision not to return....
First, I went one evening to procure some bbq provisions. I want to make one thing clear (just in case anyone has this doubt in the back of their minds) I do not get dressed up and try to pick up men at Wal-Mart. So, while wandering around looking for an elusive can of peach pie filling for a recipe of fruit salad, I see a large man in slippers, dirty sweat pants and crazy hair watching me. I leave that aisle and proceed with my shopping. I again notice him, this time next to a vegetable tray. I again walk away and travel to the beverage aisle to pick up some tonic water and there he is again. Now, keep in mind that Wal-Mart is a black-hole that sucks up time so at least an hour has passed between my first crazy sighting and this one...and this time I realize he doesn't have a cart or any purchases. He walks up and says, "Hey pretty lady"....(spooky I know, but still). I leave this time and travel to the far side of the store for sun screen, etc and I meet him again in aisle containing feminine products. Anyway to make a long story short, I had to have a Wal-Mart employee walk me to my car because he was still following me.
Last week, I went to go get some cold medicine because I caught a summer cold (aren't they the worst pain in the butt?) I bend over to get the cold medicine off the bottom shelf and I feel someone touch me.
***Guys, I have a random question. Why is it that because I have a tattoo that can sometimes be seen peeking out over the top of my pants people think it is okay to touch me? Is that an unwritten invitation that I was unaware of? If so, I am going to add writing above it that says, "if you can read this, you're TOO close. And NO you cannot touch me!"***
Where was I? Oh yeah, I feel someone touch me (and it is not the same strange dude from the first incident)....tracing my tattoo. I stand up, turn around, and freeze....The guy is standing there smiling and asks "I was trying to see what your tattoo was. Can I see the rest of it?"
Now maybe it was because I was sick and not my usual sunny-dispositioned self, but I have to admit it. I got angry. I asked him why the hell he was touching me at my ass crack and told him that if he knew what was good for him he would go away very quickly. And you know what he did?!?....he asked me for my phone #...
Now is this strange behavior to anyone else? I mean does everyone but me go around Wal-Mart touching complete strangers in very personal places and expect that to be a welcome contact? Maybe I'm losing it, I don't know.
Anyway, that is why I hope to never return to Wal-Mart....now the challenge will be finding somewhere else that will change my oil while I buy porkchops and shampoo...any ideas?
Sub-standard wages
Refusal to provide health insurance
Community impact
Poor working conditions --getting trampled to death for crap money seems like a problem.
Those are all good reasons. I can respect all of them. Mine are a bit more ...hmmm...the word, what is the word? (Maybe you can supply the adjective when you've read the following)
So, the last two times I have went to Wal-Mart weird things have happened to me.....I've made an executive decision not to return....
First, I went one evening to procure some bbq provisions. I want to make one thing clear (just in case anyone has this doubt in the back of their minds) I do not get dressed up and try to pick up men at Wal-Mart. So, while wandering around looking for an elusive can of peach pie filling for a recipe of fruit salad, I see a large man in slippers, dirty sweat pants and crazy hair watching me. I leave that aisle and proceed with my shopping. I again notice him, this time next to a vegetable tray. I again walk away and travel to the beverage aisle to pick up some tonic water and there he is again. Now, keep in mind that Wal-Mart is a black-hole that sucks up time so at least an hour has passed between my first crazy sighting and this one...and this time I realize he doesn't have a cart or any purchases. He walks up and says, "Hey pretty lady"....(spooky I know, but still). I leave this time and travel to the far side of the store for sun screen, etc and I meet him again in aisle containing feminine products. Anyway to make a long story short, I had to have a Wal-Mart employee walk me to my car because he was still following me.
Last week, I went to go get some cold medicine because I caught a summer cold (aren't they the worst pain in the butt?) I bend over to get the cold medicine off the bottom shelf and I feel someone touch me.
***Guys, I have a random question. Why is it that because I have a tattoo that can sometimes be seen peeking out over the top of my pants people think it is okay to touch me? Is that an unwritten invitation that I was unaware of? If so, I am going to add writing above it that says, "if you can read this, you're TOO close. And NO you cannot touch me!"***
Where was I? Oh yeah, I feel someone touch me (and it is not the same strange dude from the first incident)....tracing my tattoo. I stand up, turn around, and freeze....The guy is standing there smiling and asks "I was trying to see what your tattoo was. Can I see the rest of it?"
Now maybe it was because I was sick and not my usual sunny-dispositioned self, but I have to admit it. I got angry. I asked him why the hell he was touching me at my ass crack and told him that if he knew what was good for him he would go away very quickly. And you know what he did?!?....he asked me for my phone #...
Now is this strange behavior to anyone else? I mean does everyone but me go around Wal-Mart touching complete strangers in very personal places and expect that to be a welcome contact? Maybe I'm losing it, I don't know.
Anyway, that is why I hope to never return to Wal-Mart....now the challenge will be finding somewhere else that will change my oil while I buy porkchops and shampoo...any ideas?
Thursday, February 5, 2009
I'm the reason you only get plastic utensils on planes
So, I think that occasionally fantasizing about violence is healthy. I mean, c'mon everyone does it . . . don't they? They do, right? Or maybe I just tell myself that so I don't feel bad. I will leave that question for another time I guess.
Today while waiting for my 5 hour flight to take off and wing me home I overheard this group of girls/women. At what age do you refer to someone as a woman instead of a girl? Anyway, they were waiting to board (which hadn't even been announced yet) and crowding the damn area where you have show your boarding pass. So the boarding groups get called and I get to go ahead of people (that's right, I have Elite status, bitches) and one of them steps right in front of where I am trying to walk and drops her bag. Now, I know I could have just climbed over her bag and brushed past her (that's what a mature person would have done, I'm sure). Instead, I turned to her and said something to the effect of " you know, your bag is in the way. People need to get by you." To which she doesn't respond, just kicks, KICKS her bag a little out of the way. And then she turns to her friends and calls me a bitch. Hmmmm, nice right?
I let it go and proceed to board. I get to my seat and get comfy (or as comfy as you can get on a plane) and other passengers begin to board. Guess who is seated directly behind me? Yep, bag-kicking girl. I didn't realize that kicking the bag was foreshadowing what would come next. Now, for some lucky reason, on an otherwise fairly full flight, my row is empty :) Yeah me!!! Bag-kicking girl and her friends are complaining about how crowded they are and I'm stretched out across three seats with a blanket. Bag-kicking girl also has one of those huge purses that I have previously discussed. I'm not sure what she was carrying in it but she was having a hard time getting it under the seat, my seat. So she starts kicking it to get it to go. And kicking it, and kicking it. What the hell does she have in there? I finally turn around and ask her to please stop kicking my seat and suggest that if it won't fit under the seat she should put it in one of the overhead bins. She doesn't respond just gives her purse one final kick and gets it lodged under my seat. I turn around, snuggle under the blanket and she asks her friends what my problem is and why do I have to be so bitchy.
Note to kicking girl: Learn a new word. Bitch is going to wear out soon.
We take off and are served breakfast. I am looking at the plastic spoon and the line from Robin Hood about removing his heart with a spoon pops into my head. It's from Robin Hood Prince of Thieves. Ya know the line, don't lie. It is followed up with something about "A spoon cousin, why a spoon?" "Because it would hurt more you twit" or something close. And I flash on me removing kicking girl's heart with my plastic spoon. I reject the idea because I'm pretty sure that the plastic would break before I could get through the breastbone. But a metal spoon would probably get the job done, don't ya think?
I think this is a perfectly natural thought process, not unhealthy at all. After all, I didn't actually attack her with my plastic spoon. THAT would have been bitchy.
Today while waiting for my 5 hour flight to take off and wing me home I overheard this group of girls/women. At what age do you refer to someone as a woman instead of a girl? Anyway, they were waiting to board (which hadn't even been announced yet) and crowding the damn area where you have show your boarding pass. So the boarding groups get called and I get to go ahead of people (that's right, I have Elite status, bitches) and one of them steps right in front of where I am trying to walk and drops her bag. Now, I know I could have just climbed over her bag and brushed past her (that's what a mature person would have done, I'm sure). Instead, I turned to her and said something to the effect of " you know, your bag is in the way. People need to get by you." To which she doesn't respond, just kicks, KICKS her bag a little out of the way. And then she turns to her friends and calls me a bitch. Hmmmm, nice right?
I let it go and proceed to board. I get to my seat and get comfy (or as comfy as you can get on a plane) and other passengers begin to board. Guess who is seated directly behind me? Yep, bag-kicking girl. I didn't realize that kicking the bag was foreshadowing what would come next. Now, for some lucky reason, on an otherwise fairly full flight, my row is empty :) Yeah me!!! Bag-kicking girl and her friends are complaining about how crowded they are and I'm stretched out across three seats with a blanket. Bag-kicking girl also has one of those huge purses that I have previously discussed. I'm not sure what she was carrying in it but she was having a hard time getting it under the seat, my seat. So she starts kicking it to get it to go. And kicking it, and kicking it. What the hell does she have in there? I finally turn around and ask her to please stop kicking my seat and suggest that if it won't fit under the seat she should put it in one of the overhead bins. She doesn't respond just gives her purse one final kick and gets it lodged under my seat. I turn around, snuggle under the blanket and she asks her friends what my problem is and why do I have to be so bitchy.
Note to kicking girl: Learn a new word. Bitch is going to wear out soon.
We take off and are served breakfast. I am looking at the plastic spoon and the line from Robin Hood about removing his heart with a spoon pops into my head. It's from Robin Hood Prince of Thieves. Ya know the line, don't lie. It is followed up with something about "A spoon cousin, why a spoon?" "Because it would hurt more you twit" or something close. And I flash on me removing kicking girl's heart with my plastic spoon. I reject the idea because I'm pretty sure that the plastic would break before I could get through the breastbone. But a metal spoon would probably get the job done, don't ya think?
I think this is a perfectly natural thought process, not unhealthy at all. After all, I didn't actually attack her with my plastic spoon. THAT would have been bitchy.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Nicotine Fit
I miss smoking. I only gave it up 7 days ago and I miss it. There is a gaping hole in my life. I used to have set routines. I knew that when I woke up, I was going drink coffee and suck down a Marlboro. I knew that when I transferred from one highway to the next in the morning, I was going to light a cigarette. I knew what stoplight to light my last one to finish before I pulled into the parking lot at work. ---Believe me, I could go on.
Now, I know that quitting is a great thing. Smoking is a terrible, dirty, unhealthy habit. It will kill me one way or another eventually. People look down on people who smoke. "The Surgeon General says . . . blah, blah, blah."
Guess what, I don't care!!!!! I love smoking. I like the feeling as I inhale with the smoke going down the back of my throat. I like exhaling a cloud of smoke. I like having something to do with my hands, namely hold the cigarette. I know that it will kill me. My 'code' for a cigarette was, "Let's go shorten our life by 7 minutes." I used to joke (after my umpteenth failure to quit) that I quit being a quitter. My friends actually applauded.
I met some of my best friends in designated smoking areas. Smoking is exceedingly social. Why else would you stand outside in subfreezing weather talking to someone you don't know if there wasn't a cigarette involved? I know that I damn sure wouldn't.
Okay, obviously I could go on with why I love to smoke but this isn't helping at the moment. I thought blogging through the craving would make it go away but maybe I should have chose a topic that didn't involve cigarettes.
Now, I know that quitting is a great thing. Smoking is a terrible, dirty, unhealthy habit. It will kill me one way or another eventually. People look down on people who smoke. "The Surgeon General says . . . blah, blah, blah."
Guess what, I don't care!!!!! I love smoking. I like the feeling as I inhale with the smoke going down the back of my throat. I like exhaling a cloud of smoke. I like having something to do with my hands, namely hold the cigarette. I know that it will kill me. My 'code' for a cigarette was, "Let's go shorten our life by 7 minutes." I used to joke (after my umpteenth failure to quit) that I quit being a quitter. My friends actually applauded.
I met some of my best friends in designated smoking areas. Smoking is exceedingly social. Why else would you stand outside in subfreezing weather talking to someone you don't know if there wasn't a cigarette involved? I know that I damn sure wouldn't.
Okay, obviously I could go on with why I love to smoke but this isn't helping at the moment. I thought blogging through the craving would make it go away but maybe I should have chose a topic that didn't involve cigarettes.
When will it end?
In the name of all that is holy, when will this torment end? Okay, so I've been saying for a long time now that I was going to quit smoking. First it was going to be over summer break 1L year, then Christmas 2L year, then summer, then Christmas then after graduation, (Yeah right, like I was going to quit while studying for the bar. What a joke!) then after the bar, then after I got a job, then after I got the current job and moved . . . .and the list goes on. I think you see the pattern.
Well may I have your attention please? I have went 7 (seven) whole days without a cigarette. I am sure good things are happening in my body. I am sure eventually the cravings will leave. I am sure I will stop obsessing over how bad I want a cigarette. I am sure that when I smell a coat that I have smoked in it won't send me into a nicotine fit. I am absolutely sure this will all eventually happen.
In the meantime, stay away from me for your own good. I am a bitch on wheels.
Well may I have your attention please? I have went 7 (seven) whole days without a cigarette. I am sure good things are happening in my body. I am sure eventually the cravings will leave. I am sure I will stop obsessing over how bad I want a cigarette. I am sure that when I smell a coat that I have smoked in it won't send me into a nicotine fit. I am absolutely sure this will all eventually happen.
In the meantime, stay away from me for your own good. I am a bitch on wheels.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
A swift kick in the . . .
So, I had two separate but equally revealing moments that really made me more self-aware. I feel like a train blindsided me TWICE!
First, I realized I have become one of those self-engrossed, overly plugged in, overly self-important people that I used to make fun of. There is no possible way that you are so important or popular that you need two phones, or that you cannot turn your damn phone off at dinner. Yes, I admit I used to make fun of those pompous assholes. This past week, I realized I WAS one of those assholes. You could have knocked me over with a feather.
This self-realization came about at an Applebee's bar (What a place to have an epiphany, right?) I was traveling for work and didn't have business entertainment that night so I was on my own for dinner. There was a basketball game on that I wanted to see and I desperately needed a drink, preferably a large bourbon, which by the way, they don't have. I think I have forgot to mention in here somewhere that I am in the process of quitting smoking and a little testy. As I have mentioned before, I have both a Blackberry and cellphone. They are two different numbers. I am sitting at the bar, talking to my sis on the phone while sending e-mails on the Crackberry. My Crackberry rings, I put my sister, on the other phone, on hold and take the call on the Crackberry. Both numbers have calls coming in on call waiting. The bartender keeps looking at me like I'm nuts and rude (which is probably true seeing as how I haven't ordered yet). And BOOM it hits me, I am a pompous asshole. When did this happen and how do I make it stop? Okay, maybe for those people that know me, this isn't new information? I don't know but I sure was shocked as hell!
SECOND, I am apparently in a relationship. WTF?????? When did this happen? How did this happen? Who said this was allowed? Why wasn't I consulted? This was NOT in my Crackberry Calendar, I know it wasn't. No reminder popped up telling me I had a relationship in 15 min and did I want to snooze or dismiss or close? For those of you that know me, you know that I am officially in freak-out mode. Also, I find it a bit perturbing that most of my friends in my current state of residence are so surprised to find that someone is hanging around. Am I really so picky that it is beyond belief that this would happen? Ok don't answer that. Please, don't, I'm begging you. So that was the other moment of self-awareness.
Now the important question, since I'm now aware, does that mean I have to get this person a Valentine's Day gift? (Please say NO!!!!!!)
First, I realized I have become one of those self-engrossed, overly plugged in, overly self-important people that I used to make fun of. There is no possible way that you are so important or popular that you need two phones, or that you cannot turn your damn phone off at dinner. Yes, I admit I used to make fun of those pompous assholes. This past week, I realized I WAS one of those assholes. You could have knocked me over with a feather.
This self-realization came about at an Applebee's bar (What a place to have an epiphany, right?) I was traveling for work and didn't have business entertainment that night so I was on my own for dinner. There was a basketball game on that I wanted to see and I desperately needed a drink, preferably a large bourbon, which by the way, they don't have. I think I have forgot to mention in here somewhere that I am in the process of quitting smoking and a little testy. As I have mentioned before, I have both a Blackberry and cellphone. They are two different numbers. I am sitting at the bar, talking to my sis on the phone while sending e-mails on the Crackberry. My Crackberry rings, I put my sister, on the other phone, on hold and take the call on the Crackberry. Both numbers have calls coming in on call waiting. The bartender keeps looking at me like I'm nuts and rude (which is probably true seeing as how I haven't ordered yet). And BOOM it hits me, I am a pompous asshole. When did this happen and how do I make it stop? Okay, maybe for those people that know me, this isn't new information? I don't know but I sure was shocked as hell!
SECOND, I am apparently in a relationship. WTF?????? When did this happen? How did this happen? Who said this was allowed? Why wasn't I consulted? This was NOT in my Crackberry Calendar, I know it wasn't. No reminder popped up telling me I had a relationship in 15 min and did I want to snooze or dismiss or close? For those of you that know me, you know that I am officially in freak-out mode. Also, I find it a bit perturbing that most of my friends in my current state of residence are so surprised to find that someone is hanging around. Am I really so picky that it is beyond belief that this would happen? Ok don't answer that. Please, don't, I'm begging you. So that was the other moment of self-awareness.
Now the important question, since I'm now aware, does that mean I have to get this person a Valentine's Day gift? (Please say NO!!!!!!)
Monday, January 26, 2009
Sometimes I forget where I live
Sometimes I forget where I live. Not my house per se (I can give the cabbie damn good directions assuming he speaks slur), but the mentality of people around me. I came to the realization shortly after finishing the bar exam and re-entering "real life" that law school had lulled me into a false sense of security. In law school I was surrounded by intelligent people (granted I thought some of them were complete idiots, but intelligent nonetheless) and re-entering reality was somewhat of a shock.
Anyway, about forgetting where I live. I was on a flight from Texas to New York. Being the experienced traveler that I am, I have now purchased the oversized purse that can carry my cellphone, blackberry (yes, I have both, don't ask), wallet, keys, Garmin, checkbook, gum, cigarettes, notepad, lighter, pens, highlighters, sticky notes, lipstick, chapstick, feminine hygiene products, Ipod, a book and possibly one of the planes lost over the Bermuda Triangle.
On this particular flight, the book in my enormous handbag happened to be Richard Dawkins's The God Delusion. I am minding my own business, reading my damn book, and in general thankful to be away from phones and e-mail for 2 whole hours. I am not bothering a soul! Guess what happens? About thirty minutes into the flight a middle-aged man in a dark suit sits down in my row. Keep in mind this is an unforgivable transgression already as I have an entire three seats to myself and am stretched out to enjoy my book and in general ignore everyone but the flight attendant who will bring me Diet Coke and coffee. (One of each please and leave the can of soda?).
Where does he get off making me move my feet? There are plenty of other seats and NO before you ask, I don't want to join the Mile High Club (that's another story).
So anyway, Seat Stealer (SS) comes into my row and makes to sit down but inconveniently my feet are there and as I am ignoring anyone without caffeinated beverages to offer so it takes awhile for his awkward presence to sink in. Eventually (and with a loud and drawn out sigh) I move my legs so I am only occupying two of the three seats. He sits. I ignore him to go back to my reading. He sits and is staring at the book. Or me? I don't know, he is staring and it is starting to interrupt my reading/ignoring routine. And he isn't offering a soda as far as I can tell. There is no dark roast aroma emanating from him so I don't think he has Folgers somewhere.
I think to myself, "Self, continue to ignore this person. This can come to no good." Do I listen to myself? NO! Of course not.
ME: Can I help you with something?
SS: I couldn't help but notice the book you are reading.
ME: Oh. (what a witty response, I know. Apparently I wasn't awake yet or I might have had an inkling of where this was headed)
SS: I was just wondering if there was anyway I could help.
ME: uh, excuse me? (blame it on the lack of caffeine)
SS: Obviously you are in need of some spiritual help. I have several tracts with me that I believe would help someone young and impressionable like yourself. I am always sad when I see a young person heading down the wrong path. (pulls out cartoon Jesus tracts and tries to hand them to me)
ME: Really, no thanks.
SS: Reading that sort of blasphemy will . . .
ME: Sir, I understand that you have your opinion. I have mine. Unlike you, I am keeping mine to myself and reading a book on a flight to meetings where I will negotiate deals for sums of money you can't possibly begin to fathom. Now, since you sat down here and decided to try force your opinion on me, let me give you mine. If you think that you can help me after I am done then I'll take your material. Either way I want you to leave b/c my calves are cramping. I do not believe in the Bible. The Bible was written by a bunch of sexist men with political agendas. Politicians decided what chapters to include. There are so many internal inconsistencies in the Bible that if someone offered it into evidence with me in court I would have the document ripped to shreds and have the jury believe that I was J.C. walking by the time I was done. I am a highly-educated, divorced, independent, self-sufficient woman. I have no respect for so-called Christians who believe that their way of life is the only "right" way of life and walk around forcing it on everyone else. I believe this country was founded on the ideal of a secular government to prevent people of one religion foisting it on others. I believe I have the right to free speech which allows me to read this book in public which I am sure you find absolutely ghastly. I also believe in the equality of women and minorities and people of all faiths. I also know that you believe you are doing your Christian duty, and because I am such a young, impressionable, helpless woman, (sarcasm much?) your Southern upbringing won't allow you to watch me read such things as, horror of horrors, a book with a different opinion. Now, my opinion can best be stated as respectful non-believer. I respect your right to believe and worship as you wish. Perhaps you could afford me the same respect?
SS: I'll pray for you. (tries to hand me the literature)
ME: I'll read yours if you read mine (hold the book out)
SS: You are trying to tempt me.
ME: Give me a break, buddy. If I was trying to tempt you, I would be wearing a black corset, fishnets, a garter belt and putting a collar on you.
SS: turns red in the face
ME: Now, will you kindly get the hell out of my row so I can stretch back out?
Ah, here comes the flight attendant. Maybe she'll leave a coffee pot instead of the Diet Coke can?
Anyway, about forgetting where I live. I was on a flight from Texas to New York. Being the experienced traveler that I am, I have now purchased the oversized purse that can carry my cellphone, blackberry (yes, I have both, don't ask), wallet, keys, Garmin, checkbook, gum, cigarettes, notepad, lighter, pens, highlighters, sticky notes, lipstick, chapstick, feminine hygiene products, Ipod, a book and possibly one of the planes lost over the Bermuda Triangle.
On this particular flight, the book in my enormous handbag happened to be Richard Dawkins's The God Delusion. I am minding my own business, reading my damn book, and in general thankful to be away from phones and e-mail for 2 whole hours. I am not bothering a soul! Guess what happens? About thirty minutes into the flight a middle-aged man in a dark suit sits down in my row. Keep in mind this is an unforgivable transgression already as I have an entire three seats to myself and am stretched out to enjoy my book and in general ignore everyone but the flight attendant who will bring me Diet Coke and coffee. (One of each please and leave the can of soda?).
Where does he get off making me move my feet? There are plenty of other seats and NO before you ask, I don't want to join the Mile High Club (that's another story).
So anyway, Seat Stealer (SS) comes into my row and makes to sit down but inconveniently my feet are there and as I am ignoring anyone without caffeinated beverages to offer so it takes awhile for his awkward presence to sink in. Eventually (and with a loud and drawn out sigh) I move my legs so I am only occupying two of the three seats. He sits. I ignore him to go back to my reading. He sits and is staring at the book. Or me? I don't know, he is staring and it is starting to interrupt my reading/ignoring routine. And he isn't offering a soda as far as I can tell. There is no dark roast aroma emanating from him so I don't think he has Folgers somewhere.
I think to myself, "Self, continue to ignore this person. This can come to no good." Do I listen to myself? NO! Of course not.
ME: Can I help you with something?
SS: I couldn't help but notice the book you are reading.
ME: Oh. (what a witty response, I know. Apparently I wasn't awake yet or I might have had an inkling of where this was headed)
SS: I was just wondering if there was anyway I could help.
ME: uh, excuse me? (blame it on the lack of caffeine)
SS: Obviously you are in need of some spiritual help. I have several tracts with me that I believe would help someone young and impressionable like yourself. I am always sad when I see a young person heading down the wrong path. (pulls out cartoon Jesus tracts and tries to hand them to me)
ME: Really, no thanks.
SS: Reading that sort of blasphemy will . . .
ME: Sir, I understand that you have your opinion. I have mine. Unlike you, I am keeping mine to myself and reading a book on a flight to meetings where I will negotiate deals for sums of money you can't possibly begin to fathom. Now, since you sat down here and decided to try force your opinion on me, let me give you mine. If you think that you can help me after I am done then I'll take your material. Either way I want you to leave b/c my calves are cramping. I do not believe in the Bible. The Bible was written by a bunch of sexist men with political agendas. Politicians decided what chapters to include. There are so many internal inconsistencies in the Bible that if someone offered it into evidence with me in court I would have the document ripped to shreds and have the jury believe that I was J.C. walking by the time I was done. I am a highly-educated, divorced, independent, self-sufficient woman. I have no respect for so-called Christians who believe that their way of life is the only "right" way of life and walk around forcing it on everyone else. I believe this country was founded on the ideal of a secular government to prevent people of one religion foisting it on others. I believe I have the right to free speech which allows me to read this book in public which I am sure you find absolutely ghastly. I also believe in the equality of women and minorities and people of all faiths. I also know that you believe you are doing your Christian duty, and because I am such a young, impressionable, helpless woman, (sarcasm much?) your Southern upbringing won't allow you to watch me read such things as, horror of horrors, a book with a different opinion. Now, my opinion can best be stated as respectful non-believer. I respect your right to believe and worship as you wish. Perhaps you could afford me the same respect?
SS: I'll pray for you. (tries to hand me the literature)
ME: I'll read yours if you read mine (hold the book out)
SS: You are trying to tempt me.
ME: Give me a break, buddy. If I was trying to tempt you, I would be wearing a black corset, fishnets, a garter belt and putting a collar on you.
SS: turns red in the face
ME: Now, will you kindly get the hell out of my row so I can stretch back out?
Ah, here comes the flight attendant. Maybe she'll leave a coffee pot instead of the Diet Coke can?
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Disaffected Youth
So one of my all-time favorite quotes comes from a Nick Hornby book. And of course I will misquote it now because I don't have the book in front of me. (It also is in the film by the same name, High Fidelity and by the way, I am in love with John Cusack). The quote is something along the lines of . . . I felt like a poser, one of those people who shaved their heads and then claimed they'd always been punk. That quote spoke very deeply to me in my younger years, that awkward time when everyone feels that they don't fit in and never will.
What i DIDN'T expect was to feel that way again. I sometimes walk into my office with my bold doorplate in my suits, with my ever-present Blackberry and coffee cup, balancing files and briefcase and think to myself, "Somewhere someone seriously screwed up. I can't believe that someone believes that I know what I am doing. I can't believe that I have the authority to authorize drafts for obscene amounts of money. Any day now they're going to figure this out and I will be out on my ass."
Is this a common feeling? Who knows? As I taught my assistant about a week after I started, sometimes we just have to put our big girl panties on and deal with shit, don't we?
So here's to big girl panties and dealing with shit.
What i DIDN'T expect was to feel that way again. I sometimes walk into my office with my bold doorplate in my suits, with my ever-present Blackberry and coffee cup, balancing files and briefcase and think to myself, "Somewhere someone seriously screwed up. I can't believe that someone believes that I know what I am doing. I can't believe that I have the authority to authorize drafts for obscene amounts of money. Any day now they're going to figure this out and I will be out on my ass."
Is this a common feeling? Who knows? As I taught my assistant about a week after I started, sometimes we just have to put our big girl panties on and deal with shit, don't we?
So here's to big girl panties and dealing with shit.
Hello
I am not expecting anyone to actually read this. If you do, I must wonder what sort of mental deficiency you may be suffering from, or what type of tremendously boring job you work at.
I will warn you now my thought process is best described as spastic. Think the ball in Pong on crack meets strange acid trip. I sometimes struggle to keep up with my own thought process and I am in my own head. Okay consider yourself warned.
Now, a little about me. I am an underpaid (possibly underemployed) attorney working for a large multi-national corporation. For this dubious honor, I uprooted my entire life, moved halfway across the country, and left all my friends. *yeah me*
I guess all I can say is sit back, strap in, and enjoy the ride.
I will warn you now my thought process is best described as spastic. Think the ball in Pong on crack meets strange acid trip. I sometimes struggle to keep up with my own thought process and I am in my own head. Okay consider yourself warned.
Now, a little about me. I am an underpaid (possibly underemployed) attorney working for a large multi-national corporation. For this dubious honor, I uprooted my entire life, moved halfway across the country, and left all my friends. *yeah me*
I guess all I can say is sit back, strap in, and enjoy the ride.
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