So I had 90% of a rocken, hot, Sassy, fresh post about my week and work and home and gym and how I am the bestest most awsome Secretary (yeah, I said it - boo ya PC lametard terms) and how they were all bowing to my savvy and then I got spanked with them taking advantage of my work ethic and "letting" me work 7:30am-6pm TWO DAYS IN A ROW after "letting" me miss the break part of 'lunch break' ALL WEEK because they catered lunches and I didn't have a reason to fight with the girls about me getting some fresh air so I didn't snap and jab a pencil in their neck the next time they start talking RIGHT IN MY EAR when I'm on a phone call and looking at a candidate and entering data into the profile they are asking if I've seen.
Yeah.
Then for the first time in THREE WEEKS, New Girl insists that I leave my desk on the set time instead of asking if I am in the middle of 14 things and do I want to finish 1 or 6 of them in the next 5 minutes while she gets her stack of crap to do at my desk together.
No.
Today she's all "GO.TAKE.LUNCH. It will be here when you get back!"
Where was this attitude on Tuesday, my first day coming in at 7:30am (I have NEVER worked this early folks - EVVVVVVER!)???? PahLeeezzze Sweet Sore Butt Cheeks, where was this when I had to call her at 5pm and remind her that she didn't relieve me for a lunch break and that I had been working since before she woke UP and that I would like to see what its like to get off NINE HOURS after walking in and taking up my shackled position at the phones.
So I come back from my forced lunch today to find that she closed all my stuff from this morning and that your wonderful, spunky, witty post about how lovely it is to be showered with flowers and gifts and praise only to realize I will be clocking 39.5 hours in FOUR days this week with no reprise from Mousy since she is the reason my PLANNED hours for today are 7:30am-6pm (yesterday New Girl came in with a migrane and decided at 3pm she couldn't stay so I was 'allowed' to cover my own desk until 6pm . Yeah. Thanks. Tell me AFTER I forgo the break for lunch for the free food for Administrative Professionals Day instead of turning on your heels when you WALK IN ready to puke you too-scared-to-piss-off-Mousy dumbass).
Apparently when your the manager and you want the day off, you loose your authority to tell your employee that she can't have the day off too. I heard all about it as Mousy yacked her complaints to me FROM MY DESK.
Yep, she kept me from doing my job so she could tell me how she can't do hers.
Its now after HALF of my lunch hour (New Girl and I are taking 2 half hour lunches to better accomodate being stranded as each others only hope for backup all day and then being stranded All Alone with 4 scheduled candidates in the same 1/2hr time block. Thanks LameTards).
The RockStar is cracked.
The deli foods are half eaten.
The King Sized M&Ms I got handed to me is being snacked on.
The coffee has been topped off.
The water bottle is full.
I'm prepared to sit here until the sun goes down if thats what it takes to do my job WELL and be sure I'll be notifying Big Boss of all the stuff I did that Mousy didn't do that I took care of today while doing my job AND catching up for the time I had to listen to her (and everyone else in the whole office - like gossip and backstabbing are contagious and they are trying to get me to catch it or some shit).
Peace to you all. Its the afternoon lull here in Sales Friday Deadline Hell - Location 051. I beg of you to sincerely thank your admins for taking your shit all the time and remembering to Come.Back.For.More.Every.Day even though you normal treat them at their level - the bottom of the totem pole (don't believe me? When is the last time you bought them lunch? Do you know where their pay scale is compared to the rest of your company?? Toss them some M&Ms once in a while - we are like hungry lonely dogs that come back for any modest display of affection).
Hey Guess What!!! My sister is coming to visit ME this weekend!! Like I get to stay home AND visit with real live humans!!! I'm thinkin lunch in Malibu, use the Blockbuster gift card I got with my flowers for Admin Day, and lots and lots of vodka so I forget that I booked 39 hours in a 4 day week so I come back on Monday.
Cuz seriously, how am I supposed to pay for blog reading internet access without a job??
Friday, April 28, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Maturation
Yup.
Turns out I'm growing up.
For instance, this is my 100th post. A graduation in itself. I gave myself larangitis for the occasion!!
It coincided with my sisters birthday and a trip to Magic Mountain and 9 world class roller coasters to celebrate, but I figure I'll be so bummed with not being able to talk that email will be my only refuge.
See? Thinkin ahead. Sure sign of leaving the whimsy of childhood behind.
A recap of recent realizations that have lead me to this conclusion:
Its officially been 14 weeks since any carnal pleasures have included another's touch and I am embracing my celebacy. I'm finding it very liberating to see how long I can have the same razor in the shower, how many days I can go without a shower or a phone call, and I'm counting days instead of hours between the "Why Not Me?" that comes with singledom. Somehow not being judged on my sexual prowess alone is making me realize that whoever finally comes along that can endure the rest of my talents will be worth the wait (because I am finding my personality perks up when not stiffled by, um, MEN.)
In true psycho menstruating change her mind woman form - my Mojo is back. Yes, I am coming into my singledom and bragging that I'm being noticed by my male counterpart agian. Sure, the chicks at the gym patting my ass and the grandpa aged men sparkling that I got their joke and retorted to wit is fine... but seeing which beer is MORE on sale and giving my number to two cool cats my age with a party coming up who saw me and had to talk to me and get my number before they got into the beer case... well, thats better.
I don't even need him to call actually, I just needed the ego stroke of being noticed by guys my age - progress ya'll.
I've elicited change in my workplace. It took only weeks be get off the temporary payroll and onto a permanent gig, and in less than a month my influences are being felt in the entire office. Heck, even my ideas are coming out of my managers mouth!! She came up to me last week and spouted about changing hours to better accomodate everyone - the exact words I used in the conversation three days before were pouring from her (in a much snottier fashion, but whatever they were my thoughts)! And I got my way =)
No longer am I the lemming in the cube - I'm now the sqweeky voice that answers phones and smiles pretty again. I've been any number of titles for the same job for all my work since college and I'm damn good at it and gosh darn it, people like me. And I like them. In the first week at this job, my roomies noticed a positive change in attitude. Sure I sold out to the man, but only for six months. When this job came around, I knew the pay cut would hurt but that my soul would be crushed if I were to permanently have all day every day to check blogs. Nothing personal, but Nothing revives a people person like having to deal with people all day.
My sass is back. I realized that life is day by day and why not crack a joke under your breath about the instructors birthday being his 12th and maybe he'll finish puberty soon? Why not laugh at yourself when you trip walking up stairs you walk every day? Why not smile at the retarded bagger who Just Had To Bag Each Item In Case Of A Spill Of The Soup and throw a bigger smile at the checker who is just so sick of hearing the narration of his events?? Why not stand up tall, walk into a room chest first, and demand attention because I am a person with merit and its ok to notice me??
It left for a while. Remember?? Well, when I grow up, I want to be stronger than the person I was a few months back and so I am practicing. Well, maybe I'm more like deciding that my best isn't gonna wait until I'm grown all the way up - that now is grown up enough to start being what I 'will be when I grow up'.
Maturation. Its bound to happen eventually. I take it as a compliment that I'm still carded but that they are surprised I am so much younger than they thought. Its like in the military when you see a blazer with all those badges of honor dangling - people don't look at me and assume my naivety anymore because I'm wearing my badges.
I've got an arsenol of beauty treatments to ensure it will never be the skin telling my age. I'd rather a look in the eye prove that I have lived in my life.
"In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey." Remember that line from that song?? It just came on the radio =) Its the same song that promotes you "go crazy with the Cheez Whiz". Kind of appropriate actually - it took me until THREE MONTHS AGO to understand the song "White Lines".
Yup. I've been a pup.
On purpose.
I figured it this way - at twelve - why be grown up if I don't have to?? Look at the life span nowadays. Why move out if I can avoid paying rent? Why rush out to get a job if I'm gonna have one forever once I get started? There had to be something about this 'childhood' business that made everyone wish they could go back to it so I decided to be a kid as long as possible.
I'm 26 and a half and I'm officially deciding not to call myself a kid anymore. I'm gonna use 'youngen' if 70somethings ask me, but these days I'm looking around at what I have and where I've been and what I've done and who I've become and there is just no calling me 'kid' anymore.
Its the 100th post. Its been 6 months since I started. The people in my life have changed considerably. My job has changed. I'd moved into this place I think two weeks before my first post, but my roomies have changed anyway. My priorities have changed from reruns to gym classes and from vodka to protein bars and from having someone to call after work to being glad I don't sit by the phone waiting for anyone. I've slept with three guys in a week and I've gone three months with only giving phone sex.
I dress like a grown up every day now.
And I look goooooood.
The trick is that I don't know where to go now. We don't really get a road map past college do we? I had it all laid out until there and here I am 5 years later and looking around at the vast opportunities and stumbling over little things like choosing an IRA over a mexican cruise and wondering if helping my sister is hurting us both and how much moxy is appropriate when you see your managers missing big opportunities for streamlining.
But the first step is knowing where I stand I suppose. And since I missed the part where I traded in my patent leather mary janes with lacy socks for hiking boots to get up and over this hill, I'm quite thrilled to realize, with my 100th post tipping me off, that I am indeed movin on up.
I was hoping to change my template but did you catch that I was at a theme park ON A MOUNTAIN today?? Yeah, I'm bushed. But I've wanted to do this post since last weekend so deal. Maybe I'll even organize my photos and get those back in the mix too huh??
Thanks for checkin in, I've been so slovenly on this front, but soon, very soon, my weekends will be mine again and my weekdays will have a little me time in them and Presto Viola I'll have stuff to blah blah blah about again. =)
Turns out I'm growing up.
For instance, this is my 100th post. A graduation in itself. I gave myself larangitis for the occasion!!
It coincided with my sisters birthday and a trip to Magic Mountain and 9 world class roller coasters to celebrate, but I figure I'll be so bummed with not being able to talk that email will be my only refuge.
See? Thinkin ahead. Sure sign of leaving the whimsy of childhood behind.
A recap of recent realizations that have lead me to this conclusion:
Its officially been 14 weeks since any carnal pleasures have included another's touch and I am embracing my celebacy. I'm finding it very liberating to see how long I can have the same razor in the shower, how many days I can go without a shower or a phone call, and I'm counting days instead of hours between the "Why Not Me?" that comes with singledom. Somehow not being judged on my sexual prowess alone is making me realize that whoever finally comes along that can endure the rest of my talents will be worth the wait (because I am finding my personality perks up when not stiffled by, um, MEN.)
In true psycho menstruating change her mind woman form - my Mojo is back. Yes, I am coming into my singledom and bragging that I'm being noticed by my male counterpart agian. Sure, the chicks at the gym patting my ass and the grandpa aged men sparkling that I got their joke and retorted to wit is fine... but seeing which beer is MORE on sale and giving my number to two cool cats my age with a party coming up who saw me and had to talk to me and get my number before they got into the beer case... well, thats better.
I don't even need him to call actually, I just needed the ego stroke of being noticed by guys my age - progress ya'll.
I've elicited change in my workplace. It took only weeks be get off the temporary payroll and onto a permanent gig, and in less than a month my influences are being felt in the entire office. Heck, even my ideas are coming out of my managers mouth!! She came up to me last week and spouted about changing hours to better accomodate everyone - the exact words I used in the conversation three days before were pouring from her (in a much snottier fashion, but whatever they were my thoughts)! And I got my way =)
No longer am I the lemming in the cube - I'm now the sqweeky voice that answers phones and smiles pretty again. I've been any number of titles for the same job for all my work since college and I'm damn good at it and gosh darn it, people like me. And I like them. In the first week at this job, my roomies noticed a positive change in attitude. Sure I sold out to the man, but only for six months. When this job came around, I knew the pay cut would hurt but that my soul would be crushed if I were to permanently have all day every day to check blogs. Nothing personal, but Nothing revives a people person like having to deal with people all day.
My sass is back. I realized that life is day by day and why not crack a joke under your breath about the instructors birthday being his 12th and maybe he'll finish puberty soon? Why not laugh at yourself when you trip walking up stairs you walk every day? Why not smile at the retarded bagger who Just Had To Bag Each Item In Case Of A Spill Of The Soup and throw a bigger smile at the checker who is just so sick of hearing the narration of his events?? Why not stand up tall, walk into a room chest first, and demand attention because I am a person with merit and its ok to notice me??
It left for a while. Remember?? Well, when I grow up, I want to be stronger than the person I was a few months back and so I am practicing. Well, maybe I'm more like deciding that my best isn't gonna wait until I'm grown all the way up - that now is grown up enough to start being what I 'will be when I grow up'.
Maturation. Its bound to happen eventually. I take it as a compliment that I'm still carded but that they are surprised I am so much younger than they thought. Its like in the military when you see a blazer with all those badges of honor dangling - people don't look at me and assume my naivety anymore because I'm wearing my badges.
I've got an arsenol of beauty treatments to ensure it will never be the skin telling my age. I'd rather a look in the eye prove that I have lived in my life.
"In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey." Remember that line from that song?? It just came on the radio =) Its the same song that promotes you "go crazy with the Cheez Whiz". Kind of appropriate actually - it took me until THREE MONTHS AGO to understand the song "White Lines".
Yup. I've been a pup.
On purpose.
I figured it this way - at twelve - why be grown up if I don't have to?? Look at the life span nowadays. Why move out if I can avoid paying rent? Why rush out to get a job if I'm gonna have one forever once I get started? There had to be something about this 'childhood' business that made everyone wish they could go back to it so I decided to be a kid as long as possible.
I'm 26 and a half and I'm officially deciding not to call myself a kid anymore. I'm gonna use 'youngen' if 70somethings ask me, but these days I'm looking around at what I have and where I've been and what I've done and who I've become and there is just no calling me 'kid' anymore.
Its the 100th post. Its been 6 months since I started. The people in my life have changed considerably. My job has changed. I'd moved into this place I think two weeks before my first post, but my roomies have changed anyway. My priorities have changed from reruns to gym classes and from vodka to protein bars and from having someone to call after work to being glad I don't sit by the phone waiting for anyone. I've slept with three guys in a week and I've gone three months with only giving phone sex.
I dress like a grown up every day now.
And I look goooooood.
The trick is that I don't know where to go now. We don't really get a road map past college do we? I had it all laid out until there and here I am 5 years later and looking around at the vast opportunities and stumbling over little things like choosing an IRA over a mexican cruise and wondering if helping my sister is hurting us both and how much moxy is appropriate when you see your managers missing big opportunities for streamlining.
But the first step is knowing where I stand I suppose. And since I missed the part where I traded in my patent leather mary janes with lacy socks for hiking boots to get up and over this hill, I'm quite thrilled to realize, with my 100th post tipping me off, that I am indeed movin on up.
I was hoping to change my template but did you catch that I was at a theme park ON A MOUNTAIN today?? Yeah, I'm bushed. But I've wanted to do this post since last weekend so deal. Maybe I'll even organize my photos and get those back in the mix too huh??
Thanks for checkin in, I've been so slovenly on this front, but soon, very soon, my weekends will be mine again and my weekdays will have a little me time in them and Presto Viola I'll have stuff to blah blah blah about again. =)
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Death and Taxes
Its Saturday night and in my house that means that the only good time being had is by the dogs who are enjoying the thrill of realizing that when cats are chased, they become infinately more chaseable.
As for the humans, we have one out of town for the holiday (though that didn't keep her Squeeky voice from keeping me up last night, waking me this morning, and excusing away that she had to stomp around at 2pm to prove that she wasn't pissed that we decided to be in the kitchen to have lunch when she was trying to nap), another sleeping it off, and T deciding a shower might help her stay asleep since the ex b/f that she spent all week with and was here until 9:30am in her bed even with her at work at 6am keeps calling her to, um, be sure shes where he can get to her.
Then there's me.
Doing my taxes online.
Tried it??
Seems easy.
Get the form. Fill it out. Email it somewhere. Get my check in a month because I'm a looooooo-zaheeerrrrrr and lost my W-2 behind my bed and it took a FULL DAY of spring cleaning my room before I could move the desk that is my headboard enough to see it sitting there where I crumpled it when I made my bed that time.
I am starting to realize why people start protests.
And petitions.
And sit ins.
Its so the Hill Dwellers might see there is a FUCKUP in the system.
The federal site gives you a list of sites to that will do your taxes for free but I started 3 before I realized they take my address and give me the basic deduction THAT IS PRINTED ON THE 1040 ALREADY and won't take my W-2 info until I cough some cash. I found one that is letting me input some stuff but when my aunt called for the third time to remind me that I'm in charge of the garlic bread to go with our lasagna and turkey for our "small Easter dinner" (I get to bring whatever I'm drinking too... I think the fresh bottle of Disaranno will be toast inside of 4 hrs), it timed out and is now locked up and the home page doesn't have a 'login' button so I get to start over.
I kinda get that they don't want a conflict of interest for having you use THEIR irs.gov site to file, but since I got the pdf of the form and downloaded it and filled it out from irs.gov, I'm not sure why that PO Box in that city that is only PO Boxes for IRS filings doesn't have an email address yet.
I'm just say'n. Is it THAT fucking hard to read off a screen instead of a piece of paper? Can't I 'sign' it on your site??? Don't tell me irs.gov is worried about hackers but TurboTax isn't. THAT would piss me off.
So I decide to take a mini break, pour a 12oz margarita (4 ice cubes, CaboWabo tequila to cover the cubes, then margarita mix 'with the tequila already in it!' even though the bottle says its 25 proof and every tequila I've seen is 80ish - even after I add the sour mix and Triple Sec my margaritas have GOT to be about 50 proof), and try my state taxes.
Fuck dude.
Just fuck.
Again, easy form, one page, right off my W-2 (can I TELL you how glad I was that the handful of waded paper wasn't ALL the tag from my box spring!!??!?!).
Only this one won't let me save a copy.
Or save changes.
And I have to print a copy because it won't let me save one.
And I have to print it before I efile it.
And I don't have a printer and T is home and she is trying to pass out but she will be gone at 6am tomorrow because she got JACKED when the old chick healed her snowboarding accident and took all the good shifts back so I'll try to rouse myself at a reasonable hour and do my CA taxes in one helluva Good Easter Morning To Ya speed run.
Then go clean out the candy dish of all the M&Ms that T thinks are so cute (but not when they end up splitting her pants - true story) and has many many many bags of replacements that I can gorge on before the lasagna and turkey feast.
Oh, the death part is fun too.
I couldn't keep my room clean and even without doing laundry for three weeks I didn't have any room in my closet or drawers (yes, I have THAT many panty options on any given day but I was running out of gym clothes and places to stack the dirty laundry) so I took a look around and realized that I packed the really cute old school deep and kinda narrow desk drawers and never unpacked them... this meant if I could find a place for my kitchie knick knacks I could stash my camis and bras somewhere.
And I did it!!!
Helped create a hole in the mass of crap that hid my carpet so I could slide the furniture around and find the W-2s.
Making sense why it took all day???
No?
Well, I'll admit I had to dust the spaces I was clearing for the new stuff and search every paper and card and postit for a clue as to where my Secret Safe W-2 place was... but mostly I got distracted by the contents of the drawers.
Some of it I hadn't touched since I moved from Northern California.
Two years in July.
[Somehow the taxes were easier to do from there, what is that about? ]
But seeing the 3x3 pics I filled the 12 frames with to adorn my first desk for my first post college job with... and realizing how many of the pictures were taken by people I will never see again... and to see people that I lost along the way... and seeing the pooch with an all black kisser instead of the powdered doughnut eater look she has now... and seeing times and places and events that were WAY before the loss and heartache and moves and jobs and roomies and remodels and drugs and deaths and bankruptcies and lonliness.
Hence the margarita when the taxes took more than an hour to EMAIL MY NUMBERS IN.
I mean Come.On.
I was thinking the the IRS server might crash or the inbox might be full or some crap, not that they don't want me to get my numbers in!!!
Add to that the newly full windowsill of memories staring me down in my frustration and you get 4 shots of tequila and tequila'd mixer to top it off.
Blockbuster and Vons are open on Easter; think the gym will let me in? I'll need a little something healthy to mix in this weekend of memories and mixers and frustration and family.
I DID get a gracious five finger discount at my sisters old place on a tiny TV with a DVD player in it so I could curl up in my room and watch movies - and it only took me 5 days to get it from my backseat to my bedroom- THAT was a helluva Friday night ya'll, lemme tell YOU! Thinkin of a repeat, but I'm thinkin taxes are more important than taking in a romantic comedy.
Making tonight that much more decadently devilish - with the contrast and all.
Off to try another round of "please, just tell me if I owe you or if I am still lame enough to have paid you too much and you get to give me some of MY MONEY BACK".
After I suck on this ice cube...
As for the humans, we have one out of town for the holiday (though that didn't keep her Squeeky voice from keeping me up last night, waking me this morning, and excusing away that she had to stomp around at 2pm to prove that she wasn't pissed that we decided to be in the kitchen to have lunch when she was trying to nap), another sleeping it off, and T deciding a shower might help her stay asleep since the ex b/f that she spent all week with and was here until 9:30am in her bed even with her at work at 6am keeps calling her to, um, be sure shes where he can get to her.
Then there's me.
Doing my taxes online.
Tried it??
Seems easy.
Get the form. Fill it out. Email it somewhere. Get my check in a month because I'm a looooooo-zaheeerrrrrr and lost my W-2 behind my bed and it took a FULL DAY of spring cleaning my room before I could move the desk that is my headboard enough to see it sitting there where I crumpled it when I made my bed that time.
I am starting to realize why people start protests.
And petitions.
And sit ins.
Its so the Hill Dwellers might see there is a FUCKUP in the system.
The federal site gives you a list of sites to that will do your taxes for free but I started 3 before I realized they take my address and give me the basic deduction THAT IS PRINTED ON THE 1040 ALREADY and won't take my W-2 info until I cough some cash. I found one that is letting me input some stuff but when my aunt called for the third time to remind me that I'm in charge of the garlic bread to go with our lasagna and turkey for our "small Easter dinner" (I get to bring whatever I'm drinking too... I think the fresh bottle of Disaranno will be toast inside of 4 hrs), it timed out and is now locked up and the home page doesn't have a 'login' button so I get to start over.
I kinda get that they don't want a conflict of interest for having you use THEIR irs.gov site to file, but since I got the pdf of the form and downloaded it and filled it out from irs.gov, I'm not sure why that PO Box in that city that is only PO Boxes for IRS filings doesn't have an email address yet.
I'm just say'n. Is it THAT fucking hard to read off a screen instead of a piece of paper? Can't I 'sign' it on your site??? Don't tell me irs.gov is worried about hackers but TurboTax isn't. THAT would piss me off.
So I decide to take a mini break, pour a 12oz margarita (4 ice cubes, CaboWabo tequila to cover the cubes, then margarita mix 'with the tequila already in it!' even though the bottle says its 25 proof and every tequila I've seen is 80ish - even after I add the sour mix and Triple Sec my margaritas have GOT to be about 50 proof), and try my state taxes.
Fuck dude.
Just fuck.
Again, easy form, one page, right off my W-2 (can I TELL you how glad I was that the handful of waded paper wasn't ALL the tag from my box spring!!??!?!).
Only this one won't let me save a copy.
Or save changes.
And I have to print a copy because it won't let me save one.
And I have to print it before I efile it.
And I don't have a printer and T is home and she is trying to pass out but she will be gone at 6am tomorrow because she got JACKED when the old chick healed her snowboarding accident and took all the good shifts back so I'll try to rouse myself at a reasonable hour and do my CA taxes in one helluva Good Easter Morning To Ya speed run.
Then go clean out the candy dish of all the M&Ms that T thinks are so cute (but not when they end up splitting her pants - true story) and has many many many bags of replacements that I can gorge on before the lasagna and turkey feast.
Oh, the death part is fun too.
I couldn't keep my room clean and even without doing laundry for three weeks I didn't have any room in my closet or drawers (yes, I have THAT many panty options on any given day but I was running out of gym clothes and places to stack the dirty laundry) so I took a look around and realized that I packed the really cute old school deep and kinda narrow desk drawers and never unpacked them... this meant if I could find a place for my kitchie knick knacks I could stash my camis and bras somewhere.
And I did it!!!
Helped create a hole in the mass of crap that hid my carpet so I could slide the furniture around and find the W-2s.
Making sense why it took all day???
No?
Well, I'll admit I had to dust the spaces I was clearing for the new stuff and search every paper and card and postit for a clue as to where my Secret Safe W-2 place was... but mostly I got distracted by the contents of the drawers.
Some of it I hadn't touched since I moved from Northern California.
Two years in July.
[Somehow the taxes were easier to do from there, what is that about? ]
But seeing the 3x3 pics I filled the 12 frames with to adorn my first desk for my first post college job with... and realizing how many of the pictures were taken by people I will never see again... and to see people that I lost along the way... and seeing the pooch with an all black kisser instead of the powdered doughnut eater look she has now... and seeing times and places and events that were WAY before the loss and heartache and moves and jobs and roomies and remodels and drugs and deaths and bankruptcies and lonliness.
Hence the margarita when the taxes took more than an hour to EMAIL MY NUMBERS IN.
I mean Come.On.
I was thinking the the IRS server might crash or the inbox might be full or some crap, not that they don't want me to get my numbers in!!!
Add to that the newly full windowsill of memories staring me down in my frustration and you get 4 shots of tequila and tequila'd mixer to top it off.
Blockbuster and Vons are open on Easter; think the gym will let me in? I'll need a little something healthy to mix in this weekend of memories and mixers and frustration and family.
I DID get a gracious five finger discount at my sisters old place on a tiny TV with a DVD player in it so I could curl up in my room and watch movies - and it only took me 5 days to get it from my backseat to my bedroom- THAT was a helluva Friday night ya'll, lemme tell YOU! Thinkin of a repeat, but I'm thinkin taxes are more important than taking in a romantic comedy.
Making tonight that much more decadently devilish - with the contrast and all.
Off to try another round of "please, just tell me if I owe you or if I am still lame enough to have paid you too much and you get to give me some of MY MONEY BACK".
After I suck on this ice cube...
Monday, April 10, 2006
Made It.
I put 1100 miles on a rented cargo van.
The capper of the weekend was unloading the stuff into my aunts garage. We talked about how my sister can't pay for a new calling card and how my aunt is late on her electric bill but how we were hungry so we went across the street to the steak house Aunties Dreamboat/Fiancee works at and had what turned out to be $100 dinner. On my card.
I ordered crab cakes and a bottle of beer.
The rest of the weekend was kinda on that par.
I will be waking up extreeeeeemly early in the morning to unload the TV I lifted from the squaters paradise my sister was living in along with the DVD player she somehow yanked from my stuff and kept in working order this whole time before returning the rented cargo van and then going to start a work week that is already set up to be anything but predictable.
Its 11:30pm and I had to get online for some semblence of anything happening this weekend that I had any desire to do. I don't know if I have a clean pair of pants for work tomorrow, but I'll find out soon enough.
For now, I am thrilled to be in bed, covers to my shoulders, pupster sprawled all up my leg and snoring a bit.
Perhaps the pillow will rub the WELCOME sign off my forehead, or at least refresh my ego so I don't feel so much like a doormat.
Fuckin family. Why did I give them my new number again? Tell me they aren't all like this, or I'm not starting one of my own or getting any inlaws EVER.
(hey Curmudgeon, its a real shorty!!! Check it Mr. Smuggiepants! HA! I knew I could do it!!)
The capper of the weekend was unloading the stuff into my aunts garage. We talked about how my sister can't pay for a new calling card and how my aunt is late on her electric bill but how we were hungry so we went across the street to the steak house Aunties Dreamboat/Fiancee works at and had what turned out to be $100 dinner. On my card.
I ordered crab cakes and a bottle of beer.
The rest of the weekend was kinda on that par.
I will be waking up extreeeeeemly early in the morning to unload the TV I lifted from the squaters paradise my sister was living in along with the DVD player she somehow yanked from my stuff and kept in working order this whole time before returning the rented cargo van and then going to start a work week that is already set up to be anything but predictable.
Its 11:30pm and I had to get online for some semblence of anything happening this weekend that I had any desire to do. I don't know if I have a clean pair of pants for work tomorrow, but I'll find out soon enough.
For now, I am thrilled to be in bed, covers to my shoulders, pupster sprawled all up my leg and snoring a bit.
Perhaps the pillow will rub the WELCOME sign off my forehead, or at least refresh my ego so I don't feel so much like a doormat.
Fuckin family. Why did I give them my new number again? Tell me they aren't all like this, or I'm not starting one of my own or getting any inlaws EVER.
(hey Curmudgeon, its a real shorty!!! Check it Mr. Smuggiepants! HA! I knew I could do it!!)
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Dude. Um. What?
ANOTHER post about work, but I swear its a quicky.
And aren't we glad its not the SAME crap about chomping carrots and smelling of menthol and hearing freakishly small women giggling in the next cube and then coming over and snarling at open personal emails??? HHmmm??
Or is it all the same drivel and I SO need to get a life so ya'll will stop falling asleep by the end of my novella posts?
Either way, this is getting posted.
(sidebar: is there some official 100th post thing bloggers do? Its coming up quick and I don't want to miss out on some bonding like the memes or tagging or ABC list about yourself or whatever else you guys spread like lice to each other.)
So there has been an open position in the back for about a week now. The chick with the WAY too tall heels for her TweedleDee body frame and NO NOT EVER smiles demeanor finally quite waiting for a replacement and started her new job last Friday.
This is a temp agency and I know for a fact we interviewed not only 5 women specifically for the position in the last two weeks, but another 15 candidates to rifle through and ask if they are interested. Now, of the 20, to be fair, only about 7 would I consider really strong contenders... but WHAT goes on at that desk that its easier to keep interviewing for The.Only.Perfect.Replacement and suck up and take over the work than just PICK ONE and go with it and keep a lookout if she turns out to be retarded???
My questions were answered when I walked in this morning to find 2 almost welcoming faces at my desk. One was who normally covers my mornings and lunch break on Wednesdays, the other was a cutie we interviewed last week.
Turns out that for my 1 month anniversary at that desk, and my 1 week anniversary being a permanent employee, I get to train a freshie!!! Not just train, but she shadowed me the whole day. And I got NOTHING done until she left!!!
What is that?? How is it possible that all I did was talk to her about what I was normally doing through my day and I looked up at 5pm to find Not One Tinsy Bitsy bit of my inbox had been touched???
Sure, we had a surprisingly l0w number of no-shows AGAIN today, and she did stock me up on some copies, and the tech support guys were only too happy to chit chat with me since I have a personality and most tumbleweeds can't remember why they called... and when Mousy and, um, I don't have a name for her yet and Newbie were all at my desk when I came back from lunch they ALL looked shocked at the 7 new 20min projects that crowded my desk and were ALL waiting for me to throw a fit but all I gave them was "yep, its the afternoon, better get cracken!" just to watch them fluster at my ability to take it all in stride and then rack up the overtime... but is it really a good policy to hire a coworker and not even email people that there will be a new face that BELONGS on the other side of the security door???
I mean selfish desires to know what I'm doing that day BEFORE I sit down to do it aside, isn't there some kind of respect for others clause that demands you maybe mention that you offered the position to a few of the interviewees before sitting a blank stare next to the freshest meat in the building and asking for the still bleeding to wipe the spring green off someone else???
She was a quick learner and ready to chip in, but its a one person desk and since its not my position she will be taking over I felt bad that she had to endure a whole day of watching me not get anything done for the sole purpose of, well, I guess making sure she can cover a lunch break. Its important, I know, but a Whole Day?? She won't do 80% of my job!!
Heres a phone. Here is a list of extensions.
Here is a program. This is the printer it will spit out of.
This is where you leave everything for when I come back in an hour to do my job.
Training done in one hour.
So by the end of the day she was telling me her life story and all was well.
Tell you what though. Let Mousy come give me the cocked eyebrow about the applications tomorrow and I will tell her how to do her job AGAIN.
Now I'm excited. That could be rediculous fun!!!
Off for the long haul this weekend; plenty to tell when I return I'm sure.
I am just RACKEN UP the karma for spending this weekend renting a van, driving 1000 miles late night and snow conditions to move a chick whos idea of sisterly love is calling once a month and crying that her life is falling apart to me or my voice mail but not having a phone number to reach her at EVER.
Racken Um UP ya'll.
Wheres the glass case, I wanna pick some prizes. (like Chuck E. Cheese. 'member?)
Oh, and FUCK daylight savings time. I haven't been able to get to sleep before 2am all week. Its like my eyelashes are reaching for my hairline and my eyeballs are popping out of my head - THATS how awake I am right now at 1:05am after 5 hrs of sleep for the last three nights.
Where is THAT petition to sign? This night owlness kicken in BLOWS.
Oh again. Tempura talked to me last night - like a conversation with real full sentances and no one word answers!!! - and kinda mentioned that he might be thinking of telling his friends I'm his girlfriend.
Why didn't I freak out??? Where is that commitmentphobe we know and love to hate??
Thrilled that some guy is thinking nice things about me.
Chilled because he is across the country and has no bearing on my current lifestyle or lifestyle changes.
Also, at this rate, the likelyhood of anything happening that would be worthy of a freakout is about as likely as me puking butterflies.
But its a nice idea that I might be considered a g/f for a phone sex quickie and for being, "frankly, because I can't think of a better way to say it, a woman [he] can tollerate."
Ain't he sweet? ::yack::
I busted his balls on that one, then realized how disappointing it is that I can talk sex for an hour and not have the slightest urge to rub the red mountain.
Whateva.
Maybe a quick rendevous in a town I've never been to and will never go back to will break the slump, hhmmm??
And aren't we glad its not the SAME crap about chomping carrots and smelling of menthol and hearing freakishly small women giggling in the next cube and then coming over and snarling at open personal emails??? HHmmm??
Or is it all the same drivel and I SO need to get a life so ya'll will stop falling asleep by the end of my novella posts?
Either way, this is getting posted.
(sidebar: is there some official 100th post thing bloggers do? Its coming up quick and I don't want to miss out on some bonding like the memes or tagging or ABC list about yourself or whatever else you guys spread like lice to each other.)
So there has been an open position in the back for about a week now. The chick with the WAY too tall heels for her TweedleDee body frame and NO NOT EVER smiles demeanor finally quite waiting for a replacement and started her new job last Friday.
This is a temp agency and I know for a fact we interviewed not only 5 women specifically for the position in the last two weeks, but another 15 candidates to rifle through and ask if they are interested. Now, of the 20, to be fair, only about 7 would I consider really strong contenders... but WHAT goes on at that desk that its easier to keep interviewing for The.Only.Perfect.Replacement and suck up and take over the work than just PICK ONE and go with it and keep a lookout if she turns out to be retarded???
My questions were answered when I walked in this morning to find 2 almost welcoming faces at my desk. One was who normally covers my mornings and lunch break on Wednesdays, the other was a cutie we interviewed last week.
Turns out that for my 1 month anniversary at that desk, and my 1 week anniversary being a permanent employee, I get to train a freshie!!! Not just train, but she shadowed me the whole day. And I got NOTHING done until she left!!!
What is that?? How is it possible that all I did was talk to her about what I was normally doing through my day and I looked up at 5pm to find Not One Tinsy Bitsy bit of my inbox had been touched???
Sure, we had a surprisingly l0w number of no-shows AGAIN today, and she did stock me up on some copies, and the tech support guys were only too happy to chit chat with me since I have a personality and most tumbleweeds can't remember why they called... and when Mousy and, um, I don't have a name for her yet and Newbie were all at my desk when I came back from lunch they ALL looked shocked at the 7 new 20min projects that crowded my desk and were ALL waiting for me to throw a fit but all I gave them was "yep, its the afternoon, better get cracken!" just to watch them fluster at my ability to take it all in stride and then rack up the overtime... but is it really a good policy to hire a coworker and not even email people that there will be a new face that BELONGS on the other side of the security door???
I mean selfish desires to know what I'm doing that day BEFORE I sit down to do it aside, isn't there some kind of respect for others clause that demands you maybe mention that you offered the position to a few of the interviewees before sitting a blank stare next to the freshest meat in the building and asking for the still bleeding to wipe the spring green off someone else???
She was a quick learner and ready to chip in, but its a one person desk and since its not my position she will be taking over I felt bad that she had to endure a whole day of watching me not get anything done for the sole purpose of, well, I guess making sure she can cover a lunch break. Its important, I know, but a Whole Day?? She won't do 80% of my job!!
Heres a phone. Here is a list of extensions.
Here is a program. This is the printer it will spit out of.
This is where you leave everything for when I come back in an hour to do my job.
Training done in one hour.
So by the end of the day she was telling me her life story and all was well.
Tell you what though. Let Mousy come give me the cocked eyebrow about the applications tomorrow and I will tell her how to do her job AGAIN.
Now I'm excited. That could be rediculous fun!!!
Off for the long haul this weekend; plenty to tell when I return I'm sure.
I am just RACKEN UP the karma for spending this weekend renting a van, driving 1000 miles late night and snow conditions to move a chick whos idea of sisterly love is calling once a month and crying that her life is falling apart to me or my voice mail but not having a phone number to reach her at EVER.
Racken Um UP ya'll.
Wheres the glass case, I wanna pick some prizes. (like Chuck E. Cheese. 'member?)
Oh, and FUCK daylight savings time. I haven't been able to get to sleep before 2am all week. Its like my eyelashes are reaching for my hairline and my eyeballs are popping out of my head - THATS how awake I am right now at 1:05am after 5 hrs of sleep for the last three nights.
Where is THAT petition to sign? This night owlness kicken in BLOWS.
Oh again. Tempura talked to me last night - like a conversation with real full sentances and no one word answers!!! - and kinda mentioned that he might be thinking of telling his friends I'm his girlfriend.
Why didn't I freak out??? Where is that commitmentphobe we know and love to hate??
Thrilled that some guy is thinking nice things about me.
Chilled because he is across the country and has no bearing on my current lifestyle or lifestyle changes.
Also, at this rate, the likelyhood of anything happening that would be worthy of a freakout is about as likely as me puking butterflies.
But its a nice idea that I might be considered a g/f for a phone sex quickie and for being, "frankly, because I can't think of a better way to say it, a woman [he] can tollerate."
Ain't he sweet? ::yack::
I busted his balls on that one, then realized how disappointing it is that I can talk sex for an hour and not have the slightest urge to rub the red mountain.
Whateva.
Maybe a quick rendevous in a town I've never been to and will never go back to will break the slump, hhmmm??
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
The Rest of the Story
This is what WAS at the bottom of "The New Job" post.
Go figure I got carried away with the chat.
Shutup.
I KNOW already.
Laugh anyway.
Go ahead. I'll wait.
Two posts in one night. At least I'm posting instead of falling into oblivion and making your blog roll look outdated because you keep waiting for a post and I decide, um, keeping my JOB and SHOWERING are more important than complaining about my life...
But since your already here, behold the stuff that runs through this girls head on a Monday evening...
1) He is on my mind again because its His bday this week and the good person in me LOVES when people call out of the blue just because its my bday but I know its a stupid selfish thing to do.
2) My sister needs to move and she is 500 miles away and somehow I am doing the renting and driving of the van that will get her to my aunts house - 30 miles away. I'm trying to be glad she is changing her life and letting family help her out but she lives in Snow Country and the highway right to her house apparently suffered mudslides recently. Maybe by Friday when it all goes down I'll be ready for a road trip and a draining of my checking account, but right now it pisses me off that I won't go to the gym Friday and have to pack all my crap Thursday so I may skip a class there too.
3) Its my half bday this week and I want to use it as a memorable date for some money matters. With all the investing and retirement options at hand, I suddenly realized that maybe I should give all that money to my car loan holder before getting all feisty, er, um, I mean Sassy with what I do with my money. Makes a little sense to start early with the retirement funds... but if I am paying interest rates higher than the return rates on the investments, I'm still not getting out of any hole, right??
4) The business in my closet was dusted and displayed two weeks in a row for a no show. She comes to my work (got fired from her temp job) and emails me. She refuses to call me. She asked three times if I'd bring the stuff to work this afternoon standing in front of me, and tonight I check my email and she asked again. DAMMMMITTTT. I was trying to think positively about maybe she would have lots of rich people who love to buy one of each of everything and this could kickstart my business... instead I remember why its in the closet!!! Whatever, if I bring her a bag of crap and some samples she'll think I'm a goddess and shower me with ANOTHER hour of chit chat about nothing I can remember while I am trying to clear out my three days old inbox... then buy me out!!! Ah, who are we kidding, she got fired from a temp job, she won't have money =(=(
5) My ex BFF is thrilled to bits about a Mexico cruise in June and is now incessantly asking if I've plopped the cash to go. Its a wedding for her new BFF and I don't know anyone but them and they will be ALL about the wedding and I would rather drive through Mexico and get the feel of the culture instead of the pretty painted port city and the amount of food I could injest and the sunburn I will surely endure and the time off work and all that crap... is what life and bonding are made of right??? Just tell me to go and I'll change my investment plans from 30 year to 30 day - live in the moment and all that. Somehow it seems like a lot of money to hang out with people I don't know and try to remain sober enough to recognize the ones I DO know.
Help a chicka out here, please.
The drama is getting thick and my Libran scales are tipping as my sleep gets hijacked by daylight savings and my normal "me time" activities of TV and drinking are loosing their lure.
Somehow there is part of me that thinks if I just had time to read my blogroll every day things would be better...
Go figure I got carried away with the chat.
Shutup.
I KNOW already.
Laugh anyway.
Go ahead. I'll wait.
Two posts in one night. At least I'm posting instead of falling into oblivion and making your blog roll look outdated because you keep waiting for a post and I decide, um, keeping my JOB and SHOWERING are more important than complaining about my life...
But since your already here, behold the stuff that runs through this girls head on a Monday evening...
1) He is on my mind again because its His bday this week and the good person in me LOVES when people call out of the blue just because its my bday but I know its a stupid selfish thing to do.
2) My sister needs to move and she is 500 miles away and somehow I am doing the renting and driving of the van that will get her to my aunts house - 30 miles away. I'm trying to be glad she is changing her life and letting family help her out but she lives in Snow Country and the highway right to her house apparently suffered mudslides recently. Maybe by Friday when it all goes down I'll be ready for a road trip and a draining of my checking account, but right now it pisses me off that I won't go to the gym Friday and have to pack all my crap Thursday so I may skip a class there too.
3) Its my half bday this week and I want to use it as a memorable date for some money matters. With all the investing and retirement options at hand, I suddenly realized that maybe I should give all that money to my car loan holder before getting all feisty, er, um, I mean Sassy with what I do with my money. Makes a little sense to start early with the retirement funds... but if I am paying interest rates higher than the return rates on the investments, I'm still not getting out of any hole, right??
4) The business in my closet was dusted and displayed two weeks in a row for a no show. She comes to my work (got fired from her temp job) and emails me. She refuses to call me. She asked three times if I'd bring the stuff to work this afternoon standing in front of me, and tonight I check my email and she asked again. DAMMMMITTTT. I was trying to think positively about maybe she would have lots of rich people who love to buy one of each of everything and this could kickstart my business... instead I remember why its in the closet!!! Whatever, if I bring her a bag of crap and some samples she'll think I'm a goddess and shower me with ANOTHER hour of chit chat about nothing I can remember while I am trying to clear out my three days old inbox... then buy me out!!! Ah, who are we kidding, she got fired from a temp job, she won't have money =(=(
5) My ex BFF is thrilled to bits about a Mexico cruise in June and is now incessantly asking if I've plopped the cash to go. Its a wedding for her new BFF and I don't know anyone but them and they will be ALL about the wedding and I would rather drive through Mexico and get the feel of the culture instead of the pretty painted port city and the amount of food I could injest and the sunburn I will surely endure and the time off work and all that crap... is what life and bonding are made of right??? Just tell me to go and I'll change my investment plans from 30 year to 30 day - live in the moment and all that. Somehow it seems like a lot of money to hang out with people I don't know and try to remain sober enough to recognize the ones I DO know.
Help a chicka out here, please.
The drama is getting thick and my Libran scales are tipping as my sleep gets hijacked by daylight savings and my normal "me time" activities of TV and drinking are loosing their lure.
Somehow there is part of me that thinks if I just had time to read my blogroll every day things would be better...
Monday, April 03, 2006
The New Job
So its been a month since I was in a cube.
I'm kinda missing the fresh meat parade that comes with a company that is comprised of 80% temp workers, but since I work the front desk at a Temp AGENCY, the fresh meat HAS to talk to me and they are always on their best gentlemanly behavior because they don't know I don't rate them/have control over their getting a job.
In fact, last week there was a 23 year old fresh from his water polo training that morning. Hes been on scolarship and taking extra units to stay a student at the university to play for the team. He was so beautiful and tall and latin and sweet and young and put together even the Big Boss said "isn't he a looker, eh??"
Yeah, its not too bad here.
I signed the paperwork to be a permanent employee last week. It kinda sucks that the paychecks won't be every week anymore, but people keep telling me its better to have a perm position than to be a temp, so I'm not gonna argue. Just because my coworker isn't getting commision off me anymore and I get paid the exact same (well, with taxes cutting me raw on a biweekly payment schedule, I'll make less I guess), and I do the same work at the same place, it didn't make THAT big a difference to me what kind of time card I filled out.
The staff was all thrilled that I was being 'promoted' and there is more of a sense of 'your permanent so be here and do good' now, so its better for them I guess.
Naturally I am a bit miffed at my immediate managers style. I am coming to realize I buck authority in my goddie two shoes way... I didn't really have cut and dry examples before, but its pretty obvious that if I think I come up with the idea myself it is BRILLIANT and if I am told to do something I will fuck it all up with malicious diligence.
For example, two weeks ago Mousy called my cell phone 45 min before I was to be in the office pleading with me that she was stuck answering phones all alone and if I could please if at all possible come in and rescue her she would appreciate it - I was 20 min late that day.
There is an evolution happening though.
Case in point: last week I walked in the door and picked up the phone at 9:03am. I needed her assistance with the callers request. I call her desk.
"Hi. Your late. AGAIN. What is it?"
"Hi. And I never get out of here before 6:15pm. EVER. And half the time I don't book OT about it. Maybe we should call my hours 9:05am-6:05pm and both breath easier??"
(this was said as I ripped off my wet coat, sat in my chair, logged in, opened 4 programs, and winked at one of the THREE candidates in the lobby who heard everything I said because I was just THAT happy to be barked at.)
"FINE."
"Great. Now will you take this call please?"
Another example of how Mousy is not exactly mentor material.
Last Friday, as she is leaving...
"I wish I could just go to my boyfriends and be there with him."
"oh, is he out of town this weekend?" (me, trying to look interested)
"no, my parents won't let me stay over at his place."
"Sorry. Um, can I ask how old you are??"
"23. Yeah, I don't want to talk about it."
"ok. so what ARE you going to do tonight, since what you want to do your parents won't let you?"
"probably homework. or maybe they rented a movie I'll want to watch with them."
"sounds good. have fun. bye."
Yep. My manager lives with her parents and has to do homework before visiting her boyfriend. I would have died if she told me they were her ride and waiting downstairs for her. I would have laughed right in her never smiling, always complaining about what day of the week it is, getting paid more than me because she learned how to suck ass before she got her Big Gold Stickered degree weasly little face.
Today. A jewel. She comes up to my desk and just stands over me until I turn around, look her in her beady eyes, and acknowledge her. Its about the time of day when lunch breaks are happening and I am thrilled at the idea that she is going to stick to HER schedule and kick me out at 1pm. You know already this is not what happened - why would I write that in the RANT section of the post???
My Mousy Manager looks me square in the eye and says "I'm not taking a lunch today. I am too exhausted to stay the full day and I have a ton of homework to do tonight anyway, so is it ok if I leave an hour early?"
Me - ::blink:: ::gasp because I forgot to breath in the presence of such an anomoly of heirarchy::
"I mean, will you be ok up here by yourself if I go early? Otherwise I guess I could take a lunch now..."
So then I sit staring at her in shock AND offense that she is asking me not only PERMISSION to leave early but if I won't grant that she will take MY lunch break.
I finally utter "no, I can handle 1.5 hrs instead of 1 hr alone on the phones, thats fine with me."
Her reply - "ok good!! I really don't want to stay late, I'm glad your ok with me leaving early."
I took lunch an hour later anyway, just because it was another fit of 'I don't know what I'm doing' when she wanted to go to the bathroom when I asked when a good time to break would be.
If I was better at drawing with keyboard characters I'd make a face right here. Wide mouthed shock. Hair blown back. Tonsils in plain view. Alas, all you get is my suckiness at trying to get this computer to hold a picture for me. Dumb corporate satalite p.o.s. won't let me store jpgs or some chytt (cool spelling, huh? I've been diggen it when I email a buddy who has naughty word blocker =) )
I know its time to change my Cubeville chat on the sidebar and stuff but seriously... I'd rather go shake my ass in front of the gym rats who do leg presses than reformat my blog.
Its taken me almost a week just to post - and I've started three this week!!
Maybe I'll be super cool and fork the dough to get someone to make a template for me... right after the dog gets a haircut, I get some food in the fridge, the shampoo gets replaced, and I find my damn W2s so I can do my taxes...
Lots more fun drama to talk about but I gotta bolt so use your imagination and comment on these tidbits of juicy dilemma:
Next post, it turned out to be WAY too much to just add at the bottom!
I'm kinda missing the fresh meat parade that comes with a company that is comprised of 80% temp workers, but since I work the front desk at a Temp AGENCY, the fresh meat HAS to talk to me and they are always on their best gentlemanly behavior because they don't know I don't rate them/have control over their getting a job.
In fact, last week there was a 23 year old fresh from his water polo training that morning. Hes been on scolarship and taking extra units to stay a student at the university to play for the team. He was so beautiful and tall and latin and sweet and young and put together even the Big Boss said "isn't he a looker, eh??"
Yeah, its not too bad here.
I signed the paperwork to be a permanent employee last week. It kinda sucks that the paychecks won't be every week anymore, but people keep telling me its better to have a perm position than to be a temp, so I'm not gonna argue. Just because my coworker isn't getting commision off me anymore and I get paid the exact same (well, with taxes cutting me raw on a biweekly payment schedule, I'll make less I guess), and I do the same work at the same place, it didn't make THAT big a difference to me what kind of time card I filled out.
The staff was all thrilled that I was being 'promoted' and there is more of a sense of 'your permanent so be here and do good' now, so its better for them I guess.
Naturally I am a bit miffed at my immediate managers style. I am coming to realize I buck authority in my goddie two shoes way... I didn't really have cut and dry examples before, but its pretty obvious that if I think I come up with the idea myself it is BRILLIANT and if I am told to do something I will fuck it all up with malicious diligence.
For example, two weeks ago Mousy called my cell phone 45 min before I was to be in the office pleading with me that she was stuck answering phones all alone and if I could please if at all possible come in and rescue her she would appreciate it - I was 20 min late that day.
There is an evolution happening though.
Case in point: last week I walked in the door and picked up the phone at 9:03am. I needed her assistance with the callers request. I call her desk.
"Hi. Your late. AGAIN. What is it?"
"Hi. And I never get out of here before 6:15pm. EVER. And half the time I don't book OT about it. Maybe we should call my hours 9:05am-6:05pm and both breath easier??"
(this was said as I ripped off my wet coat, sat in my chair, logged in, opened 4 programs, and winked at one of the THREE candidates in the lobby who heard everything I said because I was just THAT happy to be barked at.)
"FINE."
"Great. Now will you take this call please?"
Another example of how Mousy is not exactly mentor material.
Last Friday, as she is leaving...
"I wish I could just go to my boyfriends and be there with him."
"oh, is he out of town this weekend?" (me, trying to look interested)
"no, my parents won't let me stay over at his place."
"Sorry. Um, can I ask how old you are??"
"23. Yeah, I don't want to talk about it."
"ok. so what ARE you going to do tonight, since what you want to do your parents won't let you?"
"probably homework. or maybe they rented a movie I'll want to watch with them."
"sounds good. have fun. bye."
Yep. My manager lives with her parents and has to do homework before visiting her boyfriend. I would have died if she told me they were her ride and waiting downstairs for her. I would have laughed right in her never smiling, always complaining about what day of the week it is, getting paid more than me because she learned how to suck ass before she got her Big Gold Stickered degree weasly little face.
Today. A jewel. She comes up to my desk and just stands over me until I turn around, look her in her beady eyes, and acknowledge her. Its about the time of day when lunch breaks are happening and I am thrilled at the idea that she is going to stick to HER schedule and kick me out at 1pm. You know already this is not what happened - why would I write that in the RANT section of the post???
My Mousy Manager looks me square in the eye and says "I'm not taking a lunch today. I am too exhausted to stay the full day and I have a ton of homework to do tonight anyway, so is it ok if I leave an hour early?"
Me - ::blink:: ::gasp because I forgot to breath in the presence of such an anomoly of heirarchy::
"I mean, will you be ok up here by yourself if I go early? Otherwise I guess I could take a lunch now..."
So then I sit staring at her in shock AND offense that she is asking me not only PERMISSION to leave early but if I won't grant that she will take MY lunch break.
I finally utter "no, I can handle 1.5 hrs instead of 1 hr alone on the phones, thats fine with me."
Her reply - "ok good!! I really don't want to stay late, I'm glad your ok with me leaving early."
I took lunch an hour later anyway, just because it was another fit of 'I don't know what I'm doing' when she wanted to go to the bathroom when I asked when a good time to break would be.
If I was better at drawing with keyboard characters I'd make a face right here. Wide mouthed shock. Hair blown back. Tonsils in plain view. Alas, all you get is my suckiness at trying to get this computer to hold a picture for me. Dumb corporate satalite p.o.s. won't let me store jpgs or some chytt (cool spelling, huh? I've been diggen it when I email a buddy who has naughty word blocker =) )
I know its time to change my Cubeville chat on the sidebar and stuff but seriously... I'd rather go shake my ass in front of the gym rats who do leg presses than reformat my blog.
Its taken me almost a week just to post - and I've started three this week!!
Maybe I'll be super cool and fork the dough to get someone to make a template for me... right after the dog gets a haircut, I get some food in the fridge, the shampoo gets replaced, and I find my damn W2s so I can do my taxes...
Lots more fun drama to talk about but I gotta bolt so use your imagination and comment on these tidbits of juicy dilemma:
Next post, it turned out to be WAY too much to just add at the bottom!
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Weekend Update
Brought to you by Up Too Late Mondays.
And now, your host, Miss Can't Stop Talking Due to Caffeine and Dance Buzz Overload Sassy :
Thanks Bob.
I thought I'd share just a bit about my weekend since I meant to yesteday but really didn't feel like it.
And wouldn't you know it, just when I get the job under control, they give me a ginormous stack of paperwork to fill out to become a Permanent Employee and screw up my whole OnTopOfIt system.
YEAH! But BOO too - getting to a desk with 12 30 min projects waiting and two more to sitting in the lobby isn't a way to drag Miss Sassy to the desk on time.
Anywho, I'm also very excited about this weekends happenings for a few reasons. The short version: I did nothing but appease Aunt Flo on Saturday - hot pad, blanket, pups and me on the couch with the remote in one hand and chamomile tea in the other; cooked a fabulous breakfast and then cleaned out the kitchen cabinets and scrubbed every freshly cleared surface top to bottom for about 6 hours afterward on Sunday).
Now, for the traditional novel:
1. I cooked. I took care of me and nourished myself by preparing something with my own two hands.
2. I ate. I sat at a table in the back yard and took the time to notice what I was shoveling into my pie hole. Normally I hate eating so much I pick something with the right nutrition and look up when its over. This time I was so full I couldn't finish and the pups got a nice surprise when they licked the plate for me.
3. I didn't care when Sqweeky and K came home. I did my thing like it was my house.
4. That cabinet in the kitchen has been a catch all. T complained about it when I moved in SIX months ago. When she came home from work and all the stuff was on the table and I was IN the cabinet scrubbing the back wall of the bottom shelf, she had to say "I can't get my mind around this right now. Let me take what you won't put back to the garage" then proceeded to go upstairs and take a nap.
5. I told Squeeky flat out that a schedule for cleaning is a dumb idea. That if I was supposed to clean the kitchen yesterday, I would not have done THIS. And that I would have hated it on principle. I told her that I clean when it strikes me that it needs to be done and a schedule will kill that instinct and I won't support or follow one. Dumass.
6. It was ME. I, in my natural homey nurturing secure in my surroundings and in my self and abilities and instincts, clean stuff when it needs it. It used to happen about once a quarter in high school. Since I've lived in 6 'homes' in the last 3 years, I haven't done a deep cleaning unless it was for a deposit.
It felt good to sing to the radio and open another cupbard and see that there was an empty wrapper and end up clearing the whole thing out to wipe the soap circles off. It was amazing the way the entire kitchen lit up with the scent of Simple Green and the sparkle only Comet can give. I was proud of my day and knew the effect on the space would only promote the dropping of baggage. And it wasn't mine!!!
It was me in my home cleaning my space because I care how my life functions.
***And when He is around, I forget all that and my life revolves around Him.*** I realized that, acknowledged it, respected it, and kept on with my day.
Tempura had called in the middle of Round 3 - wiping up any trace residue before deciding what to put back. Later he asked (via text message) how the roomies responded. I said "in awe, naturally, of my ability to transform the space into a home". He said "maybe someday we can have a home you could clean. And I can watch you clean naked on a Sunday."
I lost my breath.
Apparently because I talk to him he is ALL about me and I don't know how to keep, um, JUST TALKING to him and convey that I'm not getting the "we'd be cool together forever" vibe.
I told him I would clean in boy shorts and a cami and he changed the topic.
Still talks about me coming out, yes he does, but that he just moved and his rent doubled and his business is slow in the mean time is where he keeps pointing my attention when I ask for a flight number.
Whatever. I'm not dying to be wholed up in the snow with a guy who thinks I'm fantastic just for taking his calls. Oh, and being me, but you get the idea.
I made my bed this weekend.
Usually not a major thing, but I'll give you a timeline for emphasis.
I got back from New Years' trip and washed my sheets the next weekend. I made the bed while He was here that week. I slept in those sheets for, um, I'm going with three weeks (pillow cases washed after 10 days).
These sheets were in a ball at the end of the bed that night. I crawled onto the opened sleeping bag that is my matress pad (also convenient storage, FYI) and pulled the blankets over me.
Its PJs time of year, so almost no skin was sleep-slimin these textiles.
And this weekend I made my bed.
Did you catch that?? January 10th I put on sheets, January 31st I take them off, and MARCH 25TH I put them back on.
PROGRESS folks. This is what they call Movin On ya'll. (thought I'd forget?? HA!) Seriously, it might be a stupid thing to try to attach meaning to... I get the HS cheerleader corrilation. But come on - He lays me in fresh sheets, I sleep in them until I seriously CAN'T anymore, and it takes TWO MONTHS to get them stretched back on?????? Sum'ums up wit dat yo.
And I was a psych major and all my friends are too easy to read right now. =)
Oh, and I slept FAMOUSLY last night, thanks for asking =)
Always having to leave stuff off because I am a flibertygibit of a talker and just won't.stop.the.madness. (this actually started as an email to a budy that I had to copy and paste so I wouldn't want to try to blog at work tomorrow.)
The family is crazy.
My sister will try to talk me into helping her move from west NV to So Cal in the next two weeks or so.
My cousin will be furious because she wants my sisters rent to help her be able to buy a bigger house for her family (rent $ = covered mortgage = bigger kitchen for everyone).
My aunt is a spaz who called off the big wedding (panic attacks planning it 10 months in advance) and who won't cough as to when the eloping may commence. Her house is the current destination of my sister. This should be fun. The house in question is almost an hour from mine and I've visited for two of the three major holidays since I moved here (Christmas and Super Bowl - I called in fake sick to Tday).
Oh, and the sisters in my house are in a tizzy because something is happening with the mortgage payment and K is thinking she is helping by telling T she needs to buck up and shovel the cash to cover the difference since "they (the parents who actually own the house and K who's THEN current income was needed and she is therefore a signatory on the house) thought she would pay more once T got a job and she hasn't". Unfortunately, the entire situation is a bit screwy for my quickly Garfielding eyes, but the jist is that K is a severly self centered and narrow minded cornhole who can't notice if someone is in the room, let alone who they are. T bought this house thinking her fiancee would bear her children here and is constantly frustrated with the level of absentmindedness demonstrated by the DownStairs Girls on a daily basis. To have $$ come up about the house through K to T the week T's "severance checks" from the ex-fiancee (they met at work and were together for 10 years) don't come in for the first time in nearly two years is a little bit much when the Crimson Tide is washing over the place, ya dig?
Its past midnight now. I was gonna shower the gym off so I could sleep in (to when I normally get up mind you) in the morning, but perhaps my skin won't notice that its in its own yummy oils for the night??? Or will 6:30am not come that early tomorrow, now that I get INTO bed, and I'll get out of bed on time?
I'm laughing too, its ok, yuck it up.
ttfn, and don't say I never wrote you nuthin.
And now, your host, Miss Can't Stop Talking Due to Caffeine and Dance Buzz Overload Sassy :
Thanks Bob.
I thought I'd share just a bit about my weekend since I meant to yesteday but really didn't feel like it.
And wouldn't you know it, just when I get the job under control, they give me a ginormous stack of paperwork to fill out to become a Permanent Employee and screw up my whole OnTopOfIt system.
YEAH! But BOO too - getting to a desk with 12 30 min projects waiting and two more to sitting in the lobby isn't a way to drag Miss Sassy to the desk on time.
Anywho, I'm also very excited about this weekends happenings for a few reasons. The short version: I did nothing but appease Aunt Flo on Saturday - hot pad, blanket, pups and me on the couch with the remote in one hand and chamomile tea in the other; cooked a fabulous breakfast and then cleaned out the kitchen cabinets and scrubbed every freshly cleared surface top to bottom for about 6 hours afterward on Sunday).
Now, for the traditional novel:
1. I cooked. I took care of me and nourished myself by preparing something with my own two hands.
2. I ate. I sat at a table in the back yard and took the time to notice what I was shoveling into my pie hole. Normally I hate eating so much I pick something with the right nutrition and look up when its over. This time I was so full I couldn't finish and the pups got a nice surprise when they licked the plate for me.
3. I didn't care when Sqweeky and K came home. I did my thing like it was my house.
4. That cabinet in the kitchen has been a catch all. T complained about it when I moved in SIX months ago. When she came home from work and all the stuff was on the table and I was IN the cabinet scrubbing the back wall of the bottom shelf, she had to say "I can't get my mind around this right now. Let me take what you won't put back to the garage" then proceeded to go upstairs and take a nap.
5. I told Squeeky flat out that a schedule for cleaning is a dumb idea. That if I was supposed to clean the kitchen yesterday, I would not have done THIS. And that I would have hated it on principle. I told her that I clean when it strikes me that it needs to be done and a schedule will kill that instinct and I won't support or follow one. Dumass.
6. It was ME. I, in my natural homey nurturing secure in my surroundings and in my self and abilities and instincts, clean stuff when it needs it. It used to happen about once a quarter in high school. Since I've lived in 6 'homes' in the last 3 years, I haven't done a deep cleaning unless it was for a deposit.
It felt good to sing to the radio and open another cupbard and see that there was an empty wrapper and end up clearing the whole thing out to wipe the soap circles off. It was amazing the way the entire kitchen lit up with the scent of Simple Green and the sparkle only Comet can give. I was proud of my day and knew the effect on the space would only promote the dropping of baggage. And it wasn't mine!!!
It was me in my home cleaning my space because I care how my life functions.
***And when He is around, I forget all that and my life revolves around Him.*** I realized that, acknowledged it, respected it, and kept on with my day.
Tempura had called in the middle of Round 3 - wiping up any trace residue before deciding what to put back. Later he asked (via text message) how the roomies responded. I said "in awe, naturally, of my ability to transform the space into a home". He said "maybe someday we can have a home you could clean. And I can watch you clean naked on a Sunday."
I lost my breath.
Apparently because I talk to him he is ALL about me and I don't know how to keep, um, JUST TALKING to him and convey that I'm not getting the "we'd be cool together forever" vibe.
I told him I would clean in boy shorts and a cami and he changed the topic.
Still talks about me coming out, yes he does, but that he just moved and his rent doubled and his business is slow in the mean time is where he keeps pointing my attention when I ask for a flight number.
Whatever. I'm not dying to be wholed up in the snow with a guy who thinks I'm fantastic just for taking his calls. Oh, and being me, but you get the idea.
I made my bed this weekend.
Usually not a major thing, but I'll give you a timeline for emphasis.
I got back from New Years' trip and washed my sheets the next weekend. I made the bed while He was here that week. I slept in those sheets for, um, I'm going with three weeks (pillow cases washed after 10 days).
These sheets were in a ball at the end of the bed that night. I crawled onto the opened sleeping bag that is my matress pad (also convenient storage, FYI) and pulled the blankets over me.
Its PJs time of year, so almost no skin was sleep-slimin these textiles.
And this weekend I made my bed.
Did you catch that?? January 10th I put on sheets, January 31st I take them off, and MARCH 25TH I put them back on.
PROGRESS folks. This is what they call Movin On ya'll. (thought I'd forget?? HA!) Seriously, it might be a stupid thing to try to attach meaning to... I get the HS cheerleader corrilation. But come on - He lays me in fresh sheets, I sleep in them until I seriously CAN'T anymore, and it takes TWO MONTHS to get them stretched back on?????? Sum'ums up wit dat yo.
And I was a psych major and all my friends are too easy to read right now. =)
Oh, and I slept FAMOUSLY last night, thanks for asking =)
Always having to leave stuff off because I am a flibertygibit of a talker and just won't.stop.the.madness. (this actually started as an email to a budy that I had to copy and paste so I wouldn't want to try to blog at work tomorrow.)
The family is crazy.
My sister will try to talk me into helping her move from west NV to So Cal in the next two weeks or so.
My cousin will be furious because she wants my sisters rent to help her be able to buy a bigger house for her family (rent $ = covered mortgage = bigger kitchen for everyone).
My aunt is a spaz who called off the big wedding (panic attacks planning it 10 months in advance) and who won't cough as to when the eloping may commence. Her house is the current destination of my sister. This should be fun. The house in question is almost an hour from mine and I've visited for two of the three major holidays since I moved here (Christmas and Super Bowl - I called in fake sick to Tday).
Oh, and the sisters in my house are in a tizzy because something is happening with the mortgage payment and K is thinking she is helping by telling T she needs to buck up and shovel the cash to cover the difference since "they (the parents who actually own the house and K who's THEN current income was needed and she is therefore a signatory on the house) thought she would pay more once T got a job and she hasn't". Unfortunately, the entire situation is a bit screwy for my quickly Garfielding eyes, but the jist is that K is a severly self centered and narrow minded cornhole who can't notice if someone is in the room, let alone who they are. T bought this house thinking her fiancee would bear her children here and is constantly frustrated with the level of absentmindedness demonstrated by the DownStairs Girls on a daily basis. To have $$ come up about the house through K to T the week T's "severance checks" from the ex-fiancee (they met at work and were together for 10 years) don't come in for the first time in nearly two years is a little bit much when the Crimson Tide is washing over the place, ya dig?
Its past midnight now. I was gonna shower the gym off so I could sleep in (to when I normally get up mind you) in the morning, but perhaps my skin won't notice that its in its own yummy oils for the night??? Or will 6:30am not come that early tomorrow, now that I get INTO bed, and I'll get out of bed on time?
I'm laughing too, its ok, yuck it up.
ttfn, and don't say I never wrote you nuthin.
Friday, March 24, 2006
News of the Day
Here it is - another list of random thoughts because I am too distracted to organize them.
1) I picked up a pen last night to write a little note about something and realized that no matter how many revelations I pour out on Blogger, there is nothing quite like putting a pen to paper and watching the words pour from your brain to your wrist to your fingers and onto the page. The simplicity of the ink gliding over even the cheapest paper makes the process of expressing ones self that much more powerful.
Plus my handwriting was On.Point. last night and it looked pretty =)
2) I saw Blonde Bombshell last night.
No chick in tow.
And I can't be sure if it was a reaction to being stared at, but I caught him looking at me REPEATEDLY through the class.
Caddycorner across the room.
In the mirror while I did my crunches.
Doing lunges.
The OTHER time I was on my back doing crunches.
He was in the rotation directly across from me the whole evening.
So after class I chitchat with the girls that I am now trying very hard to remember the names of, go to the locker room to get my crap (and avoid catching my fingers in the spring loaded doors of death), and realize that because of the instructor/personal trainers advice after last weeks class, I was able to move this week.
So I go back to the room to catch the trainer and thank him for making me remember that the human body wasn't meant to sit in a chair or in front of a keyboard all day. To let him know I've gotten quite a few compliments on my posture since he told me to lead with my chest instead of my forehead or shoulders. That I can feel blood flowing in my neck and shoulders again.
And guess what I found... a group of his groupies hangen out after class. So I slip into the conversation, university sweatshirt on; hair down and fabulous. Blonde Bombshell is directly across from me and I am that retarded girlie girl who laughs at all the jokes and laughs twice at his.
But whatever.
Hes cute and I like his smile and he has a football players ass and there is no harm in having a friendly personality.
Its not like I licked him or groped him or asked what he was doing later.
And he was RIGHT across the room from me all night so its not like I was killing myself to look at him.
And he was looking at me too. So THERE.
3) What do you do when you keep learning the ropes of your job within two weeks and find time to blog first thing in the morning because you are so caught up???
The boredom will set in. The monotony will have me agonizing over why I took ANOTHER front desk position. The frustration at having ideas as to how to streamline the office will meet a brick wall called Status Quo and I will harbor resentment to the two faced managers who tell me they love me but only as long as I shut it and sit pretty.
So the other day I am at my desk and this Cookie Lee sales person is talking to me while she waits for her prey to get out of a meeting. She tells me that the parties are so fun and that she enjoys my personality and that she would love to see me at the party she is setting up. Somehow it slips out that I know exactly the script she is using because I am with the company that MASTERED direct sales marketed toward women. She gets all wide eyed and I'm thinking "we can talk shop instead of her trying to sell me stuff that I wouldn't pick up at the dollar store if it were half price" - instead she blurts out "OH GOOD!! I love your products and got the card of a girl from a trade show a few weeks ago but I'd rather buy from you because you are so much more fun! Whats your number?"
GULP.
The blood fell from my cheeks. My throat went dry. My neck started to sweat.
Then I thought "no one ever calls, its cool, and she has a card from the other girl and I'm giving her a postit. She'll lose it and I can keep my pipe dream in its pipe where it belongs."
No dice ya'll. (I can't get over that word!!! Got a replacement?)
She called me at work yesterday and set an appt for Sunday morning.
Its a little frightening when you hear that someone wants what you have and wants it from you because its you.
Its the point of the business I have gathering dust in my closet, but for some reason I've talked myself out of that option, and now I'm having a little revelation that if I just think about making money with her and getting hot leads, it will happen.
So, this weekend I get to do my taxes (stupid forwarding of the mail is NOT.WORKING. and I finally got my W2 - a copy of the employers copy - YESTERDAY) and dust off all my stuff for a pamper party for one.
All kinds of nerve wracking fun!!!!!
4) Maybe I don't have any room to talk... but why in the FRICK would T tell her stoney lametarded b/f to bug off because he finally went to far (ie bought her a cruise for Christmas, booked the date three months later without asking, she took the time off work, and two days before leaving asked what the weather would be like on the water and he said "I'm taking Charlie because I don't think you and I can spend four whole days together when your acting like this" and went on HER cruise without her), let him come over and hang candelabras, and THEN let his "surprise on Wednesday" be a trip to her fave restaurant, a gift of a spa day, a lovey card, and a bottle of vodka back at HIS place where she STAYED THE NIGHT?????
Lets put it this way - she was seeing another guy last week. A new, available, not controlling, not manipulative, mid western breed guy who totally digs her and let her 'crash' at his place when she drank too many margaritas on their 2nd date.
Thats right ya'll!! (AGAIN. I know. I need an intervention or something.) She slept over at a guys place on Sunday and spent the night with the ex on Wednesday.
And she calls her sister a whore for kissing a new guy at a club!!!!
My rant started with this idea - why oh why would you break up with someone if you will let them date you the next week????
OK - so He was redated, but a year later is different than a WEEK later, no?
And OK so I slept with other people between redating - but a WEEK??? When whore is her favorite word for a KISS???
5) What is rye and why do people like it?
I caved and got half a bagel this morning with the light cream cheese with salmon in it (because its almost noon and I have learned that the girls will cut a meeting short to take THEIR lunches on time but when it comes to saving me from passing out from low blood sugar because I don't want to TALK ON THE PHONE or MEET PEOPLE with food in my mouth, they conveniently say 'in a few minutes, k?' when 2pm rolls around and I realize why I'm snapping at my coworkers).
It wasn't a whole wheat bagel.
It is rye.
And not toasted.
Now I have that seedy stanky stuck in the back of my nasal cavity stench that only comes from these little hidden buggers and no sourkraut to even it out. I'm all for a random Reuben, but when you expect whole wheat and get rye, its a shock to the Good Morning, Here is Some Nutrition For You Body!! message I was trying to send.
Maybe a sweet coffee will help??
6) How Could I Forget??
For my coffee mongers...
I found a new version of my new fave this morning.
I didn't like that the French Vanilla from the cappucchino machine was too sweet and not caffeinated enough, so I started with a plain espresso shot and added the FV on top.
This offered a jolt that would snap me awake, but I would chug it so fast that I would reach for the empty cup just for a sip of warm creamy goodness. And go back for more. And be disappointed that I had to settle for the full sugary version so I wouldn't buzz off my chair.
Today though... I hit the Americano button before the FV button and I got a hot cup of coffee that was just enough sweet to cover the bitter, just enough froth to keep me from burning my tongue, and big enough to have a CUP of coffee this morning!!!!
Its the little things folks.
I sit at a desk and enter info into a database and answer calls and smile big when anyone comes to my desk.
To have a nice warm slightly sweet foamy creamy bit of comfort for me in the mornings makes it worth keeping the pink and blue cup on my desk day to day.
Otherwise its like that butterfly tattoo from HS that you got to match your best friends the month before you found out she'd been screwin your b/f for six months - a good thing that has so many bad memories that its not worth keeping.
Not that I have that.
Or that I had a b/f in HS for that matter.
But to see the cup sitting here knowing that it is a great cup but the memories are so disappointing...
This is why I don't have ink.
Except on a page.
7) I was recently asked to send a picture because an email buddy is dying to know what I look like. So I described myself in pretty accurate detail. Somehow it sounded like an ER report, but still.
This person did not think "I look like every other moderatly attractive middle class white chick you've ever met" was a reasonable summation.
I ask you, whats wrong with maintaining a bit of mystery if I want to??
I've got a few other email buddies that don't even know my real name I pleaded.
What about all the fantastic imagination and Avatar building and Characature stuff we can do when I give you the details of my composition without the photo proof??
Still I was asked to create a digital image of myself and send it pronto.
Comply? Or maintain my stance that 1)I don't HAVE a photo to email, 2) I don't WANT to send one even if I did have one, and 3) I LIKE that you want to see me and that I have the Power to withhold???
8) I need more hobbies. The gym and Tivo and blog reading and watching the dogs twitch in their sleep are great, but I think I'm ready for something more. Now.
If you lived 1/2hr from the beach. 1/2hr from the hills, and 45min from the great metropolis of LA... what would you do on a Saturday?
Its now 2:38pm and I am gonna take my bleery eyed self to the back and demand someone come cover my desk so I can drive up the street to the park, pull the blanket out of my trunk, lay barefoot in the sunshine, and ask Tempura why he keeps telling me he'd love to let me know how much better my ass looks after all this gym stuff but refuses to book a ticket for me to fly out and see him. (I know, he should come see me, but I don't want to give HIM a place to stay, drive HIM around, and take HIM to the airport three hours early so he can have a stiff drink to round out a weekend of fondling and spoiling me.)
1) I picked up a pen last night to write a little note about something and realized that no matter how many revelations I pour out on Blogger, there is nothing quite like putting a pen to paper and watching the words pour from your brain to your wrist to your fingers and onto the page. The simplicity of the ink gliding over even the cheapest paper makes the process of expressing ones self that much more powerful.
Plus my handwriting was On.Point. last night and it looked pretty =)
2) I saw Blonde Bombshell last night.
No chick in tow.
And I can't be sure if it was a reaction to being stared at, but I caught him looking at me REPEATEDLY through the class.
Caddycorner across the room.
In the mirror while I did my crunches.
Doing lunges.
The OTHER time I was on my back doing crunches.
He was in the rotation directly across from me the whole evening.
When I insisted that he walk into the little back room carrying 16 steppers before me (after he tried to let me go first twice), I leaned in just a bit and said "thank you, but seriously, I'm carrying FOUR"... and I made him laugh. And it was all I could do not to take a deep breath of MAN while we waited in line to be good people and clean up our messes. And he couldn't help himself and had to take my FOUR steppers and put them up for me.
So after class I chitchat with the girls that I am now trying very hard to remember the names of, go to the locker room to get my crap (and avoid catching my fingers in the spring loaded doors of death), and realize that because of the instructor/personal trainers advice after last weeks class, I was able to move this week.
So I go back to the room to catch the trainer and thank him for making me remember that the human body wasn't meant to sit in a chair or in front of a keyboard all day. To let him know I've gotten quite a few compliments on my posture since he told me to lead with my chest instead of my forehead or shoulders. That I can feel blood flowing in my neck and shoulders again.
And guess what I found... a group of his groupies hangen out after class. So I slip into the conversation, university sweatshirt on; hair down and fabulous. Blonde Bombshell is directly across from me and I am that retarded girlie girl who laughs at all the jokes and laughs twice at his.
But whatever.
Hes cute and I like his smile and he has a football players ass and there is no harm in having a friendly personality.
Its not like I licked him or groped him or asked what he was doing later.
And he was RIGHT across the room from me all night so its not like I was killing myself to look at him.
And he was looking at me too. So THERE.
3) What do you do when you keep learning the ropes of your job within two weeks and find time to blog first thing in the morning because you are so caught up???
The boredom will set in. The monotony will have me agonizing over why I took ANOTHER front desk position. The frustration at having ideas as to how to streamline the office will meet a brick wall called Status Quo and I will harbor resentment to the two faced managers who tell me they love me but only as long as I shut it and sit pretty.
So the other day I am at my desk and this Cookie Lee sales person is talking to me while she waits for her prey to get out of a meeting. She tells me that the parties are so fun and that she enjoys my personality and that she would love to see me at the party she is setting up. Somehow it slips out that I know exactly the script she is using because I am with the company that MASTERED direct sales marketed toward women. She gets all wide eyed and I'm thinking "we can talk shop instead of her trying to sell me stuff that I wouldn't pick up at the dollar store if it were half price" - instead she blurts out "OH GOOD!! I love your products and got the card of a girl from a trade show a few weeks ago but I'd rather buy from you because you are so much more fun! Whats your number?"
GULP.
The blood fell from my cheeks. My throat went dry. My neck started to sweat.
Then I thought "no one ever calls, its cool, and she has a card from the other girl and I'm giving her a postit. She'll lose it and I can keep my pipe dream in its pipe where it belongs."
No dice ya'll. (I can't get over that word!!! Got a replacement?)
She called me at work yesterday and set an appt for Sunday morning.
Its a little frightening when you hear that someone wants what you have and wants it from you because its you.
Its the point of the business I have gathering dust in my closet, but for some reason I've talked myself out of that option, and now I'm having a little revelation that if I just think about making money with her and getting hot leads, it will happen.
So, this weekend I get to do my taxes (stupid forwarding of the mail is NOT.WORKING. and I finally got my W2 - a copy of the employers copy - YESTERDAY) and dust off all my stuff for a pamper party for one.
All kinds of nerve wracking fun!!!!!
4) Maybe I don't have any room to talk... but why in the FRICK would T tell her stoney lametarded b/f to bug off because he finally went to far (ie bought her a cruise for Christmas, booked the date three months later without asking, she took the time off work, and two days before leaving asked what the weather would be like on the water and he said "I'm taking Charlie because I don't think you and I can spend four whole days together when your acting like this" and went on HER cruise without her), let him come over and hang candelabras, and THEN let his "surprise on Wednesday" be a trip to her fave restaurant, a gift of a spa day, a lovey card, and a bottle of vodka back at HIS place where she STAYED THE NIGHT?????
Lets put it this way - she was seeing another guy last week. A new, available, not controlling, not manipulative, mid western breed guy who totally digs her and let her 'crash' at his place when she drank too many margaritas on their 2nd date.
Thats right ya'll!! (AGAIN. I know. I need an intervention or something.) She slept over at a guys place on Sunday and spent the night with the ex on Wednesday.
And she calls her sister a whore for kissing a new guy at a club!!!!
My rant started with this idea - why oh why would you break up with someone if you will let them date you the next week????
OK - so He was redated, but a year later is different than a WEEK later, no?
And OK so I slept with other people between redating - but a WEEK??? When whore is her favorite word for a KISS???
5) What is rye and why do people like it?
I caved and got half a bagel this morning with the light cream cheese with salmon in it (because its almost noon and I have learned that the girls will cut a meeting short to take THEIR lunches on time but when it comes to saving me from passing out from low blood sugar because I don't want to TALK ON THE PHONE or MEET PEOPLE with food in my mouth, they conveniently say 'in a few minutes, k?' when 2pm rolls around and I realize why I'm snapping at my coworkers).
It wasn't a whole wheat bagel.
It is rye.
And not toasted.
Now I have that seedy stanky stuck in the back of my nasal cavity stench that only comes from these little hidden buggers and no sourkraut to even it out. I'm all for a random Reuben, but when you expect whole wheat and get rye, its a shock to the Good Morning, Here is Some Nutrition For You Body!! message I was trying to send.
Maybe a sweet coffee will help??
6) How Could I Forget??
For my coffee mongers...
I found a new version of my new fave this morning.
I didn't like that the French Vanilla from the cappucchino machine was too sweet and not caffeinated enough, so I started with a plain espresso shot and added the FV on top.
This offered a jolt that would snap me awake, but I would chug it so fast that I would reach for the empty cup just for a sip of warm creamy goodness. And go back for more. And be disappointed that I had to settle for the full sugary version so I wouldn't buzz off my chair.
Today though... I hit the Americano button before the FV button and I got a hot cup of coffee that was just enough sweet to cover the bitter, just enough froth to keep me from burning my tongue, and big enough to have a CUP of coffee this morning!!!!
Its the little things folks.
I sit at a desk and enter info into a database and answer calls and smile big when anyone comes to my desk.
To have a nice warm slightly sweet foamy creamy bit of comfort for me in the mornings makes it worth keeping the pink and blue cup on my desk day to day.
Otherwise its like that butterfly tattoo from HS that you got to match your best friends the month before you found out she'd been screwin your b/f for six months - a good thing that has so many bad memories that its not worth keeping.
Not that I have that.
Or that I had a b/f in HS for that matter.
But to see the cup sitting here knowing that it is a great cup but the memories are so disappointing...
This is why I don't have ink.
Except on a page.
7) I was recently asked to send a picture because an email buddy is dying to know what I look like. So I described myself in pretty accurate detail. Somehow it sounded like an ER report, but still.
This person did not think "I look like every other moderatly attractive middle class white chick you've ever met" was a reasonable summation.
I ask you, whats wrong with maintaining a bit of mystery if I want to??
I've got a few other email buddies that don't even know my real name I pleaded.
What about all the fantastic imagination and Avatar building and Characature stuff we can do when I give you the details of my composition without the photo proof??
Still I was asked to create a digital image of myself and send it pronto.
Comply? Or maintain my stance that 1)I don't HAVE a photo to email, 2) I don't WANT to send one even if I did have one, and 3) I LIKE that you want to see me and that I have the Power to withhold???
8) I need more hobbies. The gym and Tivo and blog reading and watching the dogs twitch in their sleep are great, but I think I'm ready for something more. Now.
If you lived 1/2hr from the beach. 1/2hr from the hills, and 45min from the great metropolis of LA... what would you do on a Saturday?
Its now 2:38pm and I am gonna take my bleery eyed self to the back and demand someone come cover my desk so I can drive up the street to the park, pull the blanket out of my trunk, lay barefoot in the sunshine, and ask Tempura why he keeps telling me he'd love to let me know how much better my ass looks after all this gym stuff but refuses to book a ticket for me to fly out and see him. (I know, he should come see me, but I don't want to give HIM a place to stay, drive HIM around, and take HIM to the airport three hours early so he can have a stiff drink to round out a weekend of fondling and spoiling me.)
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Big.News.Ya'll.
Again, I'm gonna talk about how bad ass I am at work.
Turns out that yesterday one of the administrative assistants got offered a job in our office in the town she lives in.
Instead of thinking it over last night, she accepted before she went home last night.
This means something only because today I got another impromptu meeting with my boss and her boss about my employment here.
Basically, they are RIGHT NOW drawing up papers to get me on the company payroll instead of having me fill out a temp time card.
Like by April 1st I won't be a temp anymore!!!!
OK. So here's the reason I've stopped working to blog.
This admin position is the same $$ an hour as I'm making. Its in the bullpen of short cubes. The desk thats being vacated is next to a window. No more having to worry if they'll send me home because I'm refusing to wear a suit coat everyday. And I was flat out asked if I would consider moving to the back.
Not that its a given - just sayen that the new place wants her like TODAY so there will be a slew of people interviewing until they like someone enough to come work with us. And where I sit next week is soley determined by their ability to like someone for the front desk or the back desk.
Exciting right!!!!!
To ensure the good karmic flow, I finally pulled out my checkbook for a few charities I've been asked to donate to (see Laurie, Avatar, and my buddies little girl is going to be the American ambasador for the People for Change trip to Australia!).
The bummer - while my bosses boss is telling me how excited she is that I am doing such a kick ass job at my desk that she is almost afraid to move me to the back, she turns to my boss and asks if there is anything that we should talk about before actually moving forward.
This mousie doe eyed meek little ass muncher (not kisser, MUNCHER - was directly hired for the position by her current boss) says that some people have come to her saying I was a little, um, well there is a personality issue we should mention, because, um, I guess you are a bit sarcastic sometimes.
I looked her straight in the face and said "I certainly have a sarcastic sense of humor, but with the new guy calling me Da Bomb and the guys I went to Happy Hour with saying things like "can we go home yet?" I got the feeling that my "oh yeah, I'm da bomb!" and "seriously, get outta here, it'll be here tomorrow anyway, right?" wouldn't be taken offensively.
She blinked heavily.
Her boss says she is gonna stand up for Mouse but ends up speaking for me... something along the lines of "I certainly haven't been offended by anything you've said, but maybe just be a little aware of the stress level of the person your talking to from here on out."
fine.
We work in a marketing sales office and I'm supposed to know when these are people or back stabbing honkies.
Whatever.
Its a perm job no matter what, right??
And in a good location (15 min from home, 10 min from the gym), the hours are cool (unless they start wanting me here at 7:30am, the maybe we'll talk), and since the head honcho chick likes me and the work I do I'm inclined to think the petty drama Mouse was refering to won't be anything more than her bad day being trumped by my KICK ASS WORK HABITS.
Yeah. Thats right. I'm Da Bomb. And getting promoted away from weekly time sheets.
I'll tell you what - Mouse has NOTHING on Miss Menthol in the race to reach the end of my last nerve; this is a cakewalk (which I actually participated in during the spring of my 6th grade year and suddenly the term made sense!)
Two for two on the good work days - how U doin??
Turns out that yesterday one of the administrative assistants got offered a job in our office in the town she lives in.
Instead of thinking it over last night, she accepted before she went home last night.
This means something only because today I got another impromptu meeting with my boss and her boss about my employment here.
Basically, they are RIGHT NOW drawing up papers to get me on the company payroll instead of having me fill out a temp time card.
Like by April 1st I won't be a temp anymore!!!!
OK. So here's the reason I've stopped working to blog.
This admin position is the same $$ an hour as I'm making. Its in the bullpen of short cubes. The desk thats being vacated is next to a window. No more having to worry if they'll send me home because I'm refusing to wear a suit coat everyday. And I was flat out asked if I would consider moving to the back.
Not that its a given - just sayen that the new place wants her like TODAY so there will be a slew of people interviewing until they like someone enough to come work with us. And where I sit next week is soley determined by their ability to like someone for the front desk or the back desk.
Exciting right!!!!!
To ensure the good karmic flow, I finally pulled out my checkbook for a few charities I've been asked to donate to (see Laurie, Avatar, and my buddies little girl is going to be the American ambasador for the People for Change trip to Australia!).
The bummer - while my bosses boss is telling me how excited she is that I am doing such a kick ass job at my desk that she is almost afraid to move me to the back, she turns to my boss and asks if there is anything that we should talk about before actually moving forward.
This mousie doe eyed meek little ass muncher (not kisser, MUNCHER - was directly hired for the position by her current boss) says that some people have come to her saying I was a little, um, well there is a personality issue we should mention, because, um, I guess you are a bit sarcastic sometimes.
I looked her straight in the face and said "I certainly have a sarcastic sense of humor, but with the new guy calling me Da Bomb and the guys I went to Happy Hour with saying things like "can we go home yet?" I got the feeling that my "oh yeah, I'm da bomb!" and "seriously, get outta here, it'll be here tomorrow anyway, right?" wouldn't be taken offensively.
She blinked heavily.
Her boss says she is gonna stand up for Mouse but ends up speaking for me... something along the lines of "I certainly haven't been offended by anything you've said, but maybe just be a little aware of the stress level of the person your talking to from here on out."
fine.
We work in a marketing sales office and I'm supposed to know when these are people or back stabbing honkies.
Whatever.
Its a perm job no matter what, right??
And in a good location (15 min from home, 10 min from the gym), the hours are cool (unless they start wanting me here at 7:30am, the maybe we'll talk), and since the head honcho chick likes me and the work I do I'm inclined to think the petty drama Mouse was refering to won't be anything more than her bad day being trumped by my KICK ASS WORK HABITS.
Yeah. Thats right. I'm Da Bomb. And getting promoted away from weekly time sheets.
I'll tell you what - Mouse has NOTHING on Miss Menthol in the race to reach the end of my last nerve; this is a cakewalk (which I actually participated in during the spring of my 6th grade year and suddenly the term made sense!)
Two for two on the good work days - how U doin??
Monday, March 20, 2006
Thats RIGHT!
Its 5pm on Monday and I am officially CAUGHT UP.
I started this job without my trainer shadowing me two weeks ago today and I am finally at the point where I can look my unexperienced blank starin boss in the face and say "I don't need you to take anything off my desk, what you see that I'm working on is all I've got!"
She lost her words.
Then said "oh, well, uhhh, GREAT! ok then, I'll go find something else to do!"
Apparently the girl before me was fine with having people not in the computer system set up to get a job ASAP, but to me that seemed a bit lame.
I also have a problem with consistently showing up at someone elses desk with my inbox and saying "I can't do it. You do it."
And these poor people looking for a job!!!
First they come in thinking they have a job interview and have to fill out 30min - 1.5 hours of paperwork before they meet anyone, they spill their guts to however many people want to get them on THEIR team (1-4 interviews back to back), THEN most people get to take assessments that are 1/2 hr long each (1-4 of these too), only to see their test scores and be told that if they don't get a call in three days or so they can call in.
In the mean time, this little hussy that sat here before would apparently email her new crush, talk on her cell phone to her b/f, or doodle hearts on the wrist wrests - their paperwork stacking up in a not so neat pile at the end of her desk.
Today, while this malicious process was happening to these poor people, I entered all their info into the computer, emailed them the training services login, input their references and nearly filed their paperwork before they could ask for a cup of water between tests.
Thats right ya'll.
There is no stoppin a girl with a mission.
I wanted to be caught up by last week. I stayed til 7:15pm to get it done.
And today I proved to myself that being good at this job isn't a pipe dream.
AND I proved that missing a lunch break is humanly possible. Sure I had a peice of the home made cherry pie. Sure the usual snack of trail mix hit the desk. OK, so sometimes a pile of brocolli is actually dinner - why can't it be lunch too??
Just had to brag a bit.
How was YOUR Monday?? =)=)
I started this job without my trainer shadowing me two weeks ago today and I am finally at the point where I can look my unexperienced blank starin boss in the face and say "I don't need you to take anything off my desk, what you see that I'm working on is all I've got!"
She lost her words.
Then said "oh, well, uhhh, GREAT! ok then, I'll go find something else to do!"
Apparently the girl before me was fine with having people not in the computer system set up to get a job ASAP, but to me that seemed a bit lame.
I also have a problem with consistently showing up at someone elses desk with my inbox and saying "I can't do it. You do it."
And these poor people looking for a job!!!
First they come in thinking they have a job interview and have to fill out 30min - 1.5 hours of paperwork before they meet anyone, they spill their guts to however many people want to get them on THEIR team (1-4 interviews back to back), THEN most people get to take assessments that are 1/2 hr long each (1-4 of these too), only to see their test scores and be told that if they don't get a call in three days or so they can call in.
In the mean time, this little hussy that sat here before would apparently email her new crush, talk on her cell phone to her b/f, or doodle hearts on the wrist wrests - their paperwork stacking up in a not so neat pile at the end of her desk.
Today, while this malicious process was happening to these poor people, I entered all their info into the computer, emailed them the training services login, input their references and nearly filed their paperwork before they could ask for a cup of water between tests.
Thats right ya'll.
There is no stoppin a girl with a mission.
I wanted to be caught up by last week. I stayed til 7:15pm to get it done.
And today I proved to myself that being good at this job isn't a pipe dream.
AND I proved that missing a lunch break is humanly possible. Sure I had a peice of the home made cherry pie. Sure the usual snack of trail mix hit the desk. OK, so sometimes a pile of brocolli is actually dinner - why can't it be lunch too??
Just had to brag a bit.
How was YOUR Monday?? =)=)
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Quick Thoughts
1 - If you tell me that I can arrange my desk however it works for me, listen to me tell you where everything is and why I put it there, and tell me you will work my desk while I go to lunch, WHY THE FUCK wouldn't you let me get all the way through the door before telling me I will hate you and then show me how you put EVERYTHING back the way YOU want it????
2 - When I tell you that a person in the lobby with a clipboard and a pen in her hand has already been helped and there is no reason to inform the party she is meeting until her paperwork is completed and verified BY ME, THE PERSON YOU HIRED TO DO THIS JOB, don't look at me and squishy up your face and tell me that the 20 questions you give everyone in the lobby every time you walk in "is to be polite".
If you want to make a difference in the world by adding niceties, DO NOT make the person sitting out there waiting for a job interview think there is any reason not to trust the person who takes their social security card and drivers license and has already made it clear that she has all the power over what the computer says about them to possible new bosses.
In other words, WHY are you micro managing so hard? Who fucked you over? What might happen if you just smile at the person to be polite? You might gain my respect?? Yeah. STOP.IT.
3 - If I tell you that my fave show didn't get TiVo'd because your lame ass decided that it would be easier if the box sat useless for two days until Juan Dillhole can come back and plug in the right part so the satalite can talk to the box... and I call you to see if you are still on my side of town for lunch, DO NOT tell me that you set appts all through the time Juan Dillhole is set to come back and that you are gonna see if he can come back on SATURDAY. Tell me you've already eaten and see how my day is going before pissing me off.
Love ya T, but a little testing of the water when you know the crimson tidal wave is rushing the house MIGHT help.
4 - Why is it that as soon as your mind decides something is ok, the whole world falls into place the way you never thought it could?
Case in Point - I decide its ok to talk to Tempura. Yesterday I was so piled up with compliments my text inbox overflowed. NO JOKE.
Case in Point - I decide its ok to work out with other people. I get called out of a room of 50 people shaken their ases and flailing their arms to perform with 5 others who exeplify "what the dance is supposed to look like when you put some Sass in that Ass". Direct quote. I'm not altering it at all to fit my personality - she thought I had so much sass that I deserved to show the other shy wallflowers what Cardio Funk is all about.
THEN, after the whole yoga class watches this performance throught the window, and the teacher tells me 'good' as he walks by fixing my neighbors Warrior 1 and Flying Airplane, I go to ask a simple question. Apparenly the gurus have pow wowed before and I get to stay for an HOUR chatting it up with the boys.
Case in Point - I decide its ok to let go of Him, that life is better than fine without Him, and I get smiled at when I go get a sandwich for lunch. Subway, Quizznos, Vons... no matter where I go, I get smiles. For dinner at El Pollo Loco I made two friends in line, had the cashier call over her buddy to laugh with us, and every table on the way out had people in it that smiled at me as I passed.
Case in Point - I decide its ok to live my life, do the gym every day, work at a job with little prestige but easy work, and My Gorgeous Girl cuddles with me every night again. And the cats run to me when I come in.
5 - Is it necessary to cut across 5 lanes of traffic to get on the freeway because you and your buddy got the bosses convertable for the lunch break? Do you not understand lane assignments because the roar of your dumb ass revving the Mustang into second gear is clouding your thought process? Did your boss know you don't know how to drive a stick when he tossed you the keys and said "lets keep it to two beers today, ok boys?"??? I'm just sayen, I was sucked into the "hey, the are fuckin cool" until I took another blink and you... well, YOU were there.
6 - If the program saves the work every time I hit save, why is the information not there when I go back???
If someone else LOOKS at the profile I am adding to, why does that make the SAVE button do NOTHING?
How is it possible that this compnay is as bad ass as everyone says it is if this program that they designed just for them is so bad at Saving stupid stuff like the guys phone number or work history or references... but somehow never loose any info on the page that gives people credit for seeing the weepy SOB that came in (in other words, the screen that gets them paid)???
7 - Is it a bad sign in society if I come back from lunch to find that the covering receptionist AND the interviewer both refer to the two women testing by pulling the corners of their eyes out and saying "they both look like this, I couldn't tell them apart when they sat in the lobby!"
8 - I only drink on Fridays these days. Just cuz. No abstinence or lent or fighting it, just happening. Is it a sign that I am HAVE to sleep till noon to avoid the raging hangover every Saturday??? Or just that I need to 1) eat dinner before Happy Hour, 2) drink more often to keep up my tolerance, or 3) that I need to roll over and give up my status as a Party School Attendee and leave the 32oz cups at home on 'bring your own cup' nite???
9 - If you are a super big wig at some company calling another company that you are putting in charge of staffing you operation, is it an actual written law you get from the Golfers With Shafts Up Their Prostates Association that you need to cut off the receptionist and demand to speak with SoAndSo??
I mean really, do you talk to the people in your office that way? And are you SURE you want to talk to that person, because all I have to do is just hang up on you or put you right to voice mail or give you to the wrong person and apparently that would be The. Worst. Crime. Against. Your. Self. Important. Secretary. Filled. Out. For. You. Day Planner. I know this because the two seconds it takes for me to annoucnce my name pisses you off to the point you have to bark over me.
Be nice or Lose.The.Call. Thats it. Fucker. Don't piss me off for the next caller, its not their fault you have no manners, decency, or cooth.
10 - I had to round out the list. Ten is a good number.
Just when I thought I didn't have a tenth thought, I come up with two.
Go figure.
I like 10, though it isn't my favorite number. I realized today that I round off my life in decades and that this triflin shit I've been blabbin/blubbering/bloggin about is just the BS of this decade. Give me a few years and I will hate myself for this crap, but here in the mid twenties I figure its just part of the territory.
My second thought is that we have a new hire in our office and so many people are helping him get started that he is too busy interviewing to take calls and too busy on the phone to greet his interviews. As I typed his name to get his credit for all this work, I mistakenly wrote his last name as "Bumpass" instead of "Bumpus". Is this my dancing queen peeking through? My opinion of his wide stature and slow southern drawl pissing me off when all he wants is to borrow a pen? Or perhaps seeing Aunt Flows bus rounding the bend is getting my mind into the all familiar gutter to duck for cover and this was a written invitation for a Freudian Slip???
Yep. I meant it when I said Quick Thoughts. This is me trying to sum things up. But hey, at least its not sappy drivel like I've been prone to, huh??
2 - When I tell you that a person in the lobby with a clipboard and a pen in her hand has already been helped and there is no reason to inform the party she is meeting until her paperwork is completed and verified BY ME, THE PERSON YOU HIRED TO DO THIS JOB, don't look at me and squishy up your face and tell me that the 20 questions you give everyone in the lobby every time you walk in "is to be polite".
If you want to make a difference in the world by adding niceties, DO NOT make the person sitting out there waiting for a job interview think there is any reason not to trust the person who takes their social security card and drivers license and has already made it clear that she has all the power over what the computer says about them to possible new bosses.
In other words, WHY are you micro managing so hard? Who fucked you over? What might happen if you just smile at the person to be polite? You might gain my respect?? Yeah. STOP.IT.
3 - If I tell you that my fave show didn't get TiVo'd because your lame ass decided that it would be easier if the box sat useless for two days until Juan Dillhole can come back and plug in the right part so the satalite can talk to the box... and I call you to see if you are still on my side of town for lunch, DO NOT tell me that you set appts all through the time Juan Dillhole is set to come back and that you are gonna see if he can come back on SATURDAY. Tell me you've already eaten and see how my day is going before pissing me off.
Love ya T, but a little testing of the water when you know the crimson tidal wave is rushing the house MIGHT help.
4 - Why is it that as soon as your mind decides something is ok, the whole world falls into place the way you never thought it could?
Case in Point - I decide its ok to talk to Tempura. Yesterday I was so piled up with compliments my text inbox overflowed. NO JOKE.
Case in Point - I decide its ok to work out with other people. I get called out of a room of 50 people shaken their ases and flailing their arms to perform with 5 others who exeplify "what the dance is supposed to look like when you put some Sass in that Ass". Direct quote. I'm not altering it at all to fit my personality - she thought I had so much sass that I deserved to show the other shy wallflowers what Cardio Funk is all about.
THEN, after the whole yoga class watches this performance throught the window, and the teacher tells me 'good' as he walks by fixing my neighbors Warrior 1 and Flying Airplane, I go to ask a simple question. Apparenly the gurus have pow wowed before and I get to stay for an HOUR chatting it up with the boys.
Case in Point - I decide its ok to let go of Him, that life is better than fine without Him, and I get smiled at when I go get a sandwich for lunch. Subway, Quizznos, Vons... no matter where I go, I get smiles. For dinner at El Pollo Loco I made two friends in line, had the cashier call over her buddy to laugh with us, and every table on the way out had people in it that smiled at me as I passed.
Case in Point - I decide its ok to live my life, do the gym every day, work at a job with little prestige but easy work, and My Gorgeous Girl cuddles with me every night again. And the cats run to me when I come in.
5 - Is it necessary to cut across 5 lanes of traffic to get on the freeway because you and your buddy got the bosses convertable for the lunch break? Do you not understand lane assignments because the roar of your dumb ass revving the Mustang into second gear is clouding your thought process? Did your boss know you don't know how to drive a stick when he tossed you the keys and said "lets keep it to two beers today, ok boys?"??? I'm just sayen, I was sucked into the "hey, the are fuckin cool" until I took another blink and you... well, YOU were there.
6 - If the program saves the work every time I hit save, why is the information not there when I go back???
If someone else LOOKS at the profile I am adding to, why does that make the SAVE button do NOTHING?
How is it possible that this compnay is as bad ass as everyone says it is if this program that they designed just for them is so bad at Saving stupid stuff like the guys phone number or work history or references... but somehow never loose any info on the page that gives people credit for seeing the weepy SOB that came in (in other words, the screen that gets them paid)???
7 - Is it a bad sign in society if I come back from lunch to find that the covering receptionist AND the interviewer both refer to the two women testing by pulling the corners of their eyes out and saying "they both look like this, I couldn't tell them apart when they sat in the lobby!"
8 - I only drink on Fridays these days. Just cuz. No abstinence or lent or fighting it, just happening. Is it a sign that I am HAVE to sleep till noon to avoid the raging hangover every Saturday??? Or just that I need to 1) eat dinner before Happy Hour, 2) drink more often to keep up my tolerance, or 3) that I need to roll over and give up my status as a Party School Attendee and leave the 32oz cups at home on 'bring your own cup' nite???
9 - If you are a super big wig at some company calling another company that you are putting in charge of staffing you operation, is it an actual written law you get from the Golfers With Shafts Up Their Prostates Association that you need to cut off the receptionist and demand to speak with SoAndSo??
I mean really, do you talk to the people in your office that way? And are you SURE you want to talk to that person, because all I have to do is just hang up on you or put you right to voice mail or give you to the wrong person and apparently that would be The. Worst. Crime. Against. Your. Self. Important. Secretary. Filled. Out. For. You. Day Planner. I know this because the two seconds it takes for me to annoucnce my name pisses you off to the point you have to bark over me.
Be nice or Lose.The.Call. Thats it. Fucker. Don't piss me off for the next caller, its not their fault you have no manners, decency, or cooth.
10 - I had to round out the list. Ten is a good number.
Just when I thought I didn't have a tenth thought, I come up with two.
Go figure.
I like 10, though it isn't my favorite number. I realized today that I round off my life in decades and that this triflin shit I've been blabbin/blubbering/bloggin about is just the BS of this decade. Give me a few years and I will hate myself for this crap, but here in the mid twenties I figure its just part of the territory.
My second thought is that we have a new hire in our office and so many people are helping him get started that he is too busy interviewing to take calls and too busy on the phone to greet his interviews. As I typed his name to get his credit for all this work, I mistakenly wrote his last name as "Bumpass" instead of "Bumpus". Is this my dancing queen peeking through? My opinion of his wide stature and slow southern drawl pissing me off when all he wants is to borrow a pen? Or perhaps seeing Aunt Flows bus rounding the bend is getting my mind into the all familiar gutter to duck for cover and this was a written invitation for a Freudian Slip???
Yep. I meant it when I said Quick Thoughts. This is me trying to sum things up. But hey, at least its not sappy drivel like I've been prone to, huh??
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Fuck Murphy and His Laws
I'm sitting here in my new job with two weeks experience and PISSED OFF that I don't have it completely up to snuff yet.
The phones go through the computers but when I have paperwork all over the keyboard or am running to the phone from the file cabinet I just want to put the call on hold using the button on the phone call HOLD. I then try to page someone only to find out that the HOLD button does NOTHING and I just hung up on someone.
So I resign to using the computer program. It doesn't pop up when I get the call. It hesitates when I drag the call to somones extension. It doesn't let me use the headset... instead all my calls come straight out of the phone and they can't hear me.
When the fucking thing DOES decide to let me use the program, it takes over and whatever I was typing when the call came in is now the name of the extension I want to transfer to... leaving the poor sap who called having to repeat everything they just said since the computer wanted to transfer them to the DATE.
Oh, and that I am finally catching up on entering peoples applications is a bonus, except that every one I do someone has a question about and it looks like the computer isn't saving half my work even though the process talkes ten minutes longer than it should because after ANY ENTRY, click of a box, or review of a screen I have to save it "just to be sure the computer keeps the info".
Fuck. Work sucks kinda.
I want to say its worth it to keep a roof overhead but after cashing my first paycheck I realize that but I will be short the equivelent of my car payment minimum every month I am at this pay rate.
And this computer is a satalite of teh INTERNATIONAL server and I literally can't wait for the letters t ocome up so I am typing about a full sentance faster than the coputer can register if THAT gives you any idea of how slow this phone system operates.
And the micro managing. GO THE FUCK AWAY!!! We have no one to ask questions of and then suddenly there is someone breathing down my neck telling me that the 2 second it takes me to pound out a 5 # extension to transfer a call would be much more convenient if I just click here, type the persons name, then drag and click and click and whisper page and redrag and when the menu comes up just click this one BUT NOT THIS ONE NO MATTER WHAT that is right next to it ad don't mind the pause in the mouse drag and release with confidence UNLESS YOU ARE GOING TO RELEASE THE CALL ONE THAT LINE THAT WE NEVER USE.
The only reason I bring this up is because 1) I have time to slack off because I was here an hour late last night trying to catch up, 2) because its noon and I am on my third cup of coffee and am full of energy I can't use because of hte teather to my head dictated by MicroBitch, and 3) because I've gotten a FEW calls from the posting I put up in JANUARY on the get-me-a-job site and its pissing me off that they are only finding my resume after I have a job!!!!!!!!
I was told to keep my options open and check out these calls I'm getting... but is it really a good idea to hate my job so much in the first too weeks that I will cut and run??
I mean seriously speaking, its just that is like every other front desk job I've had without the boredom.
And I am isolated enough that I can tickety tack away to you all again.
And if this week is as slow as it looks like, I might be able to check in with your blog again.
Maybe.
In other news, the TV dude will e at my house this morning to set up the TiVo in my ROOM with TWO cables so I can watch a show and tape another AT THE SAME TIME. The TV I am using is so old that I will be putting my computer monitor right next to the TV and using IT as my DVD player. I'm mot sure if the keyboard will be more comfortable from the bed, but surely my ass won't be able to fall asleep as quickly and I can get in some hardcore surfing while the commercials are on!!!! Oh, and do stupid stuff like put away laundry and do my budget for FEBRUARY and write my grandma a letter without moving all my shit downstairs to be riffled through by the inconsiderate roomies and whatever jackhole guys they bring through our house.
=) (AAAHHHHHHHH AGAIN!!!! I thought I'd be a super stud and give you all a pic today and the stupid computer won't refresh so I can SEE the pics!!!! AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!! Fuck I need to take a lunch break and get the fuck out of this building!!! )
The phones go through the computers but when I have paperwork all over the keyboard or am running to the phone from the file cabinet I just want to put the call on hold using the button on the phone call HOLD. I then try to page someone only to find out that the HOLD button does NOTHING and I just hung up on someone.
So I resign to using the computer program. It doesn't pop up when I get the call. It hesitates when I drag the call to somones extension. It doesn't let me use the headset... instead all my calls come straight out of the phone and they can't hear me.
When the fucking thing DOES decide to let me use the program, it takes over and whatever I was typing when the call came in is now the name of the extension I want to transfer to... leaving the poor sap who called having to repeat everything they just said since the computer wanted to transfer them to the DATE.
Oh, and that I am finally catching up on entering peoples applications is a bonus, except that every one I do someone has a question about and it looks like the computer isn't saving half my work even though the process talkes ten minutes longer than it should because after ANY ENTRY, click of a box, or review of a screen I have to save it "just to be sure the computer keeps the info".
Fuck. Work sucks kinda.
I want to say its worth it to keep a roof overhead but after cashing my first paycheck I realize that but I will be short the equivelent of my car payment minimum every month I am at this pay rate.
And this computer is a satalite of teh INTERNATIONAL server and I literally can't wait for the letters t ocome up so I am typing about a full sentance faster than the coputer can register if THAT gives you any idea of how slow this phone system operates.
And the micro managing. GO THE FUCK AWAY!!! We have no one to ask questions of and then suddenly there is someone breathing down my neck telling me that the 2 second it takes me to pound out a 5 # extension to transfer a call would be much more convenient if I just click here, type the persons name, then drag and click and click and whisper page and redrag and when the menu comes up just click this one BUT NOT THIS ONE NO MATTER WHAT that is right next to it ad don't mind the pause in the mouse drag and release with confidence UNLESS YOU ARE GOING TO RELEASE THE CALL ONE THAT LINE THAT WE NEVER USE.
The only reason I bring this up is because 1) I have time to slack off because I was here an hour late last night trying to catch up, 2) because its noon and I am on my third cup of coffee and am full of energy I can't use because of hte teather to my head dictated by MicroBitch, and 3) because I've gotten a FEW calls from the posting I put up in JANUARY on the get-me-a-job site and its pissing me off that they are only finding my resume after I have a job!!!!!!!!
I was told to keep my options open and check out these calls I'm getting... but is it really a good idea to hate my job so much in the first too weeks that I will cut and run??
I mean seriously speaking, its just that is like every other front desk job I've had without the boredom.
And I am isolated enough that I can tickety tack away to you all again.
And if this week is as slow as it looks like, I might be able to check in with your blog again.
Maybe.
In other news, the TV dude will e at my house this morning to set up the TiVo in my ROOM with TWO cables so I can watch a show and tape another AT THE SAME TIME. The TV I am using is so old that I will be putting my computer monitor right next to the TV and using IT as my DVD player. I'm mot sure if the keyboard will be more comfortable from the bed, but surely my ass won't be able to fall asleep as quickly and I can get in some hardcore surfing while the commercials are on!!!! Oh, and do stupid stuff like put away laundry and do my budget for FEBRUARY and write my grandma a letter without moving all my shit downstairs to be riffled through by the inconsiderate roomies and whatever jackhole guys they bring through our house.
=) (AAAHHHHHHHH AGAIN!!!! I thought I'd be a super stud and give you all a pic today and the stupid computer won't refresh so I can SEE the pics!!!! AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!! Fuck I need to take a lunch break and get the fuck out of this building!!! )
Monday, March 13, 2006
The Jist
So I've been a blubbering fool the last few posts... whatever.
You still came back, didn't you??
Well then, I guess it wasn't THAT awful to hear of the woes of getting life yanked around on someone else for however many paragraphs I could spew between phone calls.
For the record, I actually was on a roll of about one call every 10 seconds... this was noted by the caller on my cell phone who waited patiently for two minutes for me to tell them I was at work and couldn't talk - you all are SO lucky I needed to vent so shit last week or you'd have had to find, like, 12 other blogs to take up your reading time.
Its now late late late on a Sunday and I should have been in bed hours ago but somehow talking my sister off a ledge this evening got me all philosophical.
She doesn't have a working phone of her own, so I am at her mercy of when I talk to her.
I REAMED her for a good four straight minutes about her leaving me desperate crying messages as the first communication in a month and not giving me a way to get a hold of her and then trying to trump my woes with hers.
We're sisters, we can do that.
My best friend hasn't called in three weeks, and she'll be getting an earful too.
The reason I tell you this instead of the rest of the hour of conversation while I bonded with the cat who lives in the garage because the kitten (whos actual name is Monster Under the Bed) was too terrorizing and she'd rather have dreads than live with this beast, is because its been a hard few weeks in SassyLand and by golly if I didn't sum it up into a 90 second sshmear of highlights for Lil Sis.
Then I called the psycho epitomy of LA women known as the aunt who saved my sorry ass and let me crash with her when I had REAL drama last year to tell her that Lil Sis will be calling looking for a new life starting at her house in about a week if she can't straighten her shit out where shes at.
And again I knew that the lingering dramatic thoughts wouldn't be appreciated and rounded up the highlights for the baked in the head.
This made me understand what is the possible root of my malfunction of late.
Its all changing.
And I used to puss out on life and let it change around me while I hid in the eye of the storm... I knew I was in it, but there was no telling by looking around.
Today I am right in there flying around in the dark clouds of whatever the tornado swept up to knock me around with.
And every time I get used to the beat up truck or the wheezing heefer or the tiny stings of backstabbing or manipulation, I get whisked up into another tide of the whirlwind and have to acclamate to the new suroundings before they make me nutty.
And with nothing solid to hang onto besides a fantasy of what could maybe someday be... it gets easy to get swept away.
I'm gonna curl up in bed with Steinbeck and My Gorgeous Girl and hunker down with my jammies and a blanket and remember, with a faint smile, all the blessings I indeed have. The fantasies and the drama and the pretending not to see the truth are old habits I'd learned when I was shielded and protected from the storm BY the storm... and when I return to that peaceful place I'll surely fall back into those comfortable old ways... but for now I need to clear my mind and find something to focus on before all this gets to me (worse than it has), and that includes saving your hours from the scroll bar and giving your something a tad bit more interesting to avoid your daily duties with. =)
Next time... Tempura is back, the toilet seat mystery, and a cat fight over Girl Scout Cookies.
You still came back, didn't you??
Well then, I guess it wasn't THAT awful to hear of the woes of getting life yanked around on someone else for however many paragraphs I could spew between phone calls.
For the record, I actually was on a roll of about one call every 10 seconds... this was noted by the caller on my cell phone who waited patiently for two minutes for me to tell them I was at work and couldn't talk - you all are SO lucky I needed to vent so shit last week or you'd have had to find, like, 12 other blogs to take up your reading time.
Its now late late late on a Sunday and I should have been in bed hours ago but somehow talking my sister off a ledge this evening got me all philosophical.
She doesn't have a working phone of her own, so I am at her mercy of when I talk to her.
I REAMED her for a good four straight minutes about her leaving me desperate crying messages as the first communication in a month and not giving me a way to get a hold of her and then trying to trump my woes with hers.
We're sisters, we can do that.
My best friend hasn't called in three weeks, and she'll be getting an earful too.
The reason I tell you this instead of the rest of the hour of conversation while I bonded with the cat who lives in the garage because the kitten (whos actual name is Monster Under the Bed) was too terrorizing and she'd rather have dreads than live with this beast, is because its been a hard few weeks in SassyLand and by golly if I didn't sum it up into a 90 second sshmear of highlights for Lil Sis.
Then I called the psycho epitomy of LA women known as the aunt who saved my sorry ass and let me crash with her when I had REAL drama last year to tell her that Lil Sis will be calling looking for a new life starting at her house in about a week if she can't straighten her shit out where shes at.
And again I knew that the lingering dramatic thoughts wouldn't be appreciated and rounded up the highlights for the baked in the head.
This made me understand what is the possible root of my malfunction of late.
Its all changing.
And I used to puss out on life and let it change around me while I hid in the eye of the storm... I knew I was in it, but there was no telling by looking around.
Today I am right in there flying around in the dark clouds of whatever the tornado swept up to knock me around with.
And every time I get used to the beat up truck or the wheezing heefer or the tiny stings of backstabbing or manipulation, I get whisked up into another tide of the whirlwind and have to acclamate to the new suroundings before they make me nutty.
And with nothing solid to hang onto besides a fantasy of what could maybe someday be... it gets easy to get swept away.
I'm gonna curl up in bed with Steinbeck and My Gorgeous Girl and hunker down with my jammies and a blanket and remember, with a faint smile, all the blessings I indeed have. The fantasies and the drama and the pretending not to see the truth are old habits I'd learned when I was shielded and protected from the storm BY the storm... and when I return to that peaceful place I'll surely fall back into those comfortable old ways... but for now I need to clear my mind and find something to focus on before all this gets to me (worse than it has), and that includes saving your hours from the scroll bar and giving your something a tad bit more interesting to avoid your daily duties with. =)
Next time... Tempura is back, the toilet seat mystery, and a cat fight over Girl Scout Cookies.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Not.Doing.Well.
Its Wednesday.
I've been at work for an hour.
I have my music going, the phones ringing off the hook, and the staff behind me rowdy as always trying to make the deal that will set them up for the rest of the week.
I spent the morning crying for the first Him I felt love for.
He conducted basically the entire cerimony. The priest did the first and last prayer, but He had 10 pages of kind words and funny stories and truely telling tales about the man he is the Junior to.
He held his sister close in the pew. He read her speech for her. He acknowledged the coffin often.
I sat in the back. I cried when he walked in. I laughed at his jokes and dropped tears when he lost it at the end.
I waited for the standing room only crowd to file out the already opened back doors. I stood and contemplated and then put my purse down and walked right up to Him.
He put out his arms like I'd seen him do to everyone, acknowledged me by name as he leaned in for the hug. I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything. Where a part should be, a kiss on the neck I recieved, and a lean back in. I held him tighter, heard the staggered breath in my ear and felt his chest quake. I wanted to be the one to support him, make it ok to cry, to be the one he could crack his shell with... but I leaned back a bit and told Him he was a good man. The space between our bodies filled to eighteen inches and he asked if his speech was ok. He told me he tried to make sure it wasn't all gut wrenching sadness and needed assurance that he was funny and not that they were laughing just as a break from the crying. I told him it was very well put together and that he did a great job standing up there and delivering all the kind thoughts.
I knew there was someone behind me trying to get to him so I stepped to the side. When the path cleared I asked for his address to send a card to.
He told me to call him.
He then told everyone in hearing range how to get to the reception.
Then looked me straight in the face and nodded.
I sat in my car parked across the street as he hugged the women and shook hands with the men and listened and held his sister tight. I watched him over do the cool guy gig with the pretty girls and wondered how many of them were his fucks, like me.
When the crowd cleared a bit and I wipped my tears and straightened out my hair, I turned the motor over and headed toward the freeway.
I got off to cut through town to the next freeway.
The street where the reception was commencing was second on the left.
I called a friend from the parking lot. Told her of how I wanted to go in but didn't know why. She allowed me to talk out my reasoning, but ultimately be both knew that I could go in under the guise that I needed to pee and it was lunchtime and there was a sandwich I could munch while figuring out what I was doing there.
He came in. Shook more hands, hugged his sister more, and the woman carrying His child was barely stopped to touch his arm as she pointed to the back corner where she would be.
I got a sandwich, found a place to sit, and was soon joined by a sweet pair of old ladies that used to be my neighbors when I lived with Him.
We ate and chatted and I watched His grandpa at the next table spread his sandwich into the mustard on his plate. I saw Him past the half wall taking care of everyone and smiling whenever possible.
I was ready to leave. I saw Him convincing His sister to eat a sandwich as he neglected His own. I thought how I could just tap Him on the shoulder and say goodbye and walk out the door and leave Him behind.
He got up. He started greeting and shaking hands and thanking people for coming. And the sweet old ladies were talking up a storm. And it was nice to be treated like a person for a minute, so I drank my water and nodded and watched him make His way to my table.
His approach in included "well, look at all the lovely ladies we have at THIS table!" He grew up down the street and around the corner from these women and they laughed about the basketball in driveway story He'd shared.
He turned His attention to me, bent over, and hugged me where I sat. Two arms, bent way over, and didn't stop to see if he could peek down my shirt. He thanked me for coming over, lingered a second when I looked back at Him, then turned to greet His grandpa, gave a little jest to the man who would bury his son in a few hours.
I stood. I was glad He could remind grandpa of who I was so I could address him directly and tell him how glad I was I could come pay my respects to a family I hold in such high regard. I looked up and saw Him tuck in His lips and look me in the eye and appreciate me. He backed up a bit when grandpa went back to dipping his sandwich; I asked him what he was doing the rest of this week. He said He might get back to work just to get His head straight again.
I told Him I actually have to get back to work this afternoon, that I never had to stand up in front of a crowd and talk about my mother and I thought He did an amazing job.
He leaned in for a hug goodbye. He kissed my cheek again. He again gave 18 inches between us. I looked Him in the eye, and he looked back, and I watched Him transfer his focus from one eye to the other and he just kept looking at me, into me, through me, and His cheeks lifted ever so very slightly and I nearly lost my composure right there in the middle of a Moose lodge.
I told Him he would have a beautiful baby.
A new man stood before me in an instant - this one fidgety and shifty and looking in Her direction but not trying to see Her.
"Oh, ... yeah... so you saw... you saw my other... "
I am stuck for words. I look at Him not being able to look at me and I say "your other what? No, I say Your Girl. You will have a beautiful baby." I fixed his collar and picked the random blonde hair off his shoulder and looked up to meet his gaze again. So I looked right back into the eyes that will forever haunt me and said "I can tell you are very proud."
He looked down again and raised His head only to tell me "thanks again for coming, get yourself to work; someone has to pay those bills!" and got tugged away to meet some more people who are sharing the loss of a Man among working men.
I thanked the ladies for a lovely conversation and excused myself. Tossed the garbage, grabbed another water bottle, and didn't fidget with my purse or jacket as I made my exit.
There were picture boards at the doorway and no one blocking the view.
I remember telling Him in Vegas that I would just love to see baby pics of Him.
Today I did.
I remember the stories He told me in Vegas and wondered if I would ever see Him cry.
Today I did.
I watched my dad a few weeks back and thought of how much love He had with His father and was so jealous in the middle of Disneyland and so grateful that I had seen a father and his Junior son be best friends.
I wondered last week what I would be upset about leaving as a loose end if I died. He was all I could think of that wouldn't resolve itself satisfatoraly.
I'm not making this up.
The priest actually started his 5 minute intro saying "we are here to honor the life and memory of Mr. Him Jr..." I blurted from the second to back row "SENIOR", and a few murmurs were heard.
When He came to the podium minutes later, He introduced Himself as Him Jr., and said He was alive and well and He would be speaking on the life of Him SENIOR. A big laugh rolled through the crowd, and I was able to look at Him and see someone who would be fine without me.
I've been at work for an hour.
I have my music going, the phones ringing off the hook, and the staff behind me rowdy as always trying to make the deal that will set them up for the rest of the week.
I spent the morning crying for the first Him I felt love for.
He conducted basically the entire cerimony. The priest did the first and last prayer, but He had 10 pages of kind words and funny stories and truely telling tales about the man he is the Junior to.
He held his sister close in the pew. He read her speech for her. He acknowledged the coffin often.
I sat in the back. I cried when he walked in. I laughed at his jokes and dropped tears when he lost it at the end.
I waited for the standing room only crowd to file out the already opened back doors. I stood and contemplated and then put my purse down and walked right up to Him.
He put out his arms like I'd seen him do to everyone, acknowledged me by name as he leaned in for the hug. I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything. Where a part should be, a kiss on the neck I recieved, and a lean back in. I held him tighter, heard the staggered breath in my ear and felt his chest quake. I wanted to be the one to support him, make it ok to cry, to be the one he could crack his shell with... but I leaned back a bit and told Him he was a good man. The space between our bodies filled to eighteen inches and he asked if his speech was ok. He told me he tried to make sure it wasn't all gut wrenching sadness and needed assurance that he was funny and not that they were laughing just as a break from the crying. I told him it was very well put together and that he did a great job standing up there and delivering all the kind thoughts.
I knew there was someone behind me trying to get to him so I stepped to the side. When the path cleared I asked for his address to send a card to.
He told me to call him.
He then told everyone in hearing range how to get to the reception.
Then looked me straight in the face and nodded.
I sat in my car parked across the street as he hugged the women and shook hands with the men and listened and held his sister tight. I watched him over do the cool guy gig with the pretty girls and wondered how many of them were his fucks, like me.
When the crowd cleared a bit and I wipped my tears and straightened out my hair, I turned the motor over and headed toward the freeway.
I got off to cut through town to the next freeway.
The street where the reception was commencing was second on the left.
I called a friend from the parking lot. Told her of how I wanted to go in but didn't know why. She allowed me to talk out my reasoning, but ultimately be both knew that I could go in under the guise that I needed to pee and it was lunchtime and there was a sandwich I could munch while figuring out what I was doing there.
He came in. Shook more hands, hugged his sister more, and the woman carrying His child was barely stopped to touch his arm as she pointed to the back corner where she would be.
I got a sandwich, found a place to sit, and was soon joined by a sweet pair of old ladies that used to be my neighbors when I lived with Him.
We ate and chatted and I watched His grandpa at the next table spread his sandwich into the mustard on his plate. I saw Him past the half wall taking care of everyone and smiling whenever possible.
I was ready to leave. I saw Him convincing His sister to eat a sandwich as he neglected His own. I thought how I could just tap Him on the shoulder and say goodbye and walk out the door and leave Him behind.
He got up. He started greeting and shaking hands and thanking people for coming. And the sweet old ladies were talking up a storm. And it was nice to be treated like a person for a minute, so I drank my water and nodded and watched him make His way to my table.
His approach in included "well, look at all the lovely ladies we have at THIS table!" He grew up down the street and around the corner from these women and they laughed about the basketball in driveway story He'd shared.
He turned His attention to me, bent over, and hugged me where I sat. Two arms, bent way over, and didn't stop to see if he could peek down my shirt. He thanked me for coming over, lingered a second when I looked back at Him, then turned to greet His grandpa, gave a little jest to the man who would bury his son in a few hours.
I stood. I was glad He could remind grandpa of who I was so I could address him directly and tell him how glad I was I could come pay my respects to a family I hold in such high regard. I looked up and saw Him tuck in His lips and look me in the eye and appreciate me. He backed up a bit when grandpa went back to dipping his sandwich; I asked him what he was doing the rest of this week. He said He might get back to work just to get His head straight again.
I told Him I actually have to get back to work this afternoon, that I never had to stand up in front of a crowd and talk about my mother and I thought He did an amazing job.
He leaned in for a hug goodbye. He kissed my cheek again. He again gave 18 inches between us. I looked Him in the eye, and he looked back, and I watched Him transfer his focus from one eye to the other and he just kept looking at me, into me, through me, and His cheeks lifted ever so very slightly and I nearly lost my composure right there in the middle of a Moose lodge.
I told Him he would have a beautiful baby.
A new man stood before me in an instant - this one fidgety and shifty and looking in Her direction but not trying to see Her.
"Oh, ... yeah... so you saw... you saw my other... "
I am stuck for words. I look at Him not being able to look at me and I say "your other what? No, I say Your Girl. You will have a beautiful baby." I fixed his collar and picked the random blonde hair off his shoulder and looked up to meet his gaze again. So I looked right back into the eyes that will forever haunt me and said "I can tell you are very proud."
He looked down again and raised His head only to tell me "thanks again for coming, get yourself to work; someone has to pay those bills!" and got tugged away to meet some more people who are sharing the loss of a Man among working men.
I thanked the ladies for a lovely conversation and excused myself. Tossed the garbage, grabbed another water bottle, and didn't fidget with my purse or jacket as I made my exit.
There were picture boards at the doorway and no one blocking the view.
I remember telling Him in Vegas that I would just love to see baby pics of Him.
Today I did.
I remember the stories He told me in Vegas and wondered if I would ever see Him cry.
Today I did.
I watched my dad a few weeks back and thought of how much love He had with His father and was so jealous in the middle of Disneyland and so grateful that I had seen a father and his Junior son be best friends.
I wondered last week what I would be upset about leaving as a loose end if I died. He was all I could think of that wouldn't resolve itself satisfatoraly.
I'm not making this up.
The priest actually started his 5 minute intro saying "we are here to honor the life and memory of Mr. Him Jr..." I blurted from the second to back row "SENIOR", and a few murmurs were heard.
When He came to the podium minutes later, He introduced Himself as Him Jr., and said He was alive and well and He would be speaking on the life of Him SENIOR. A big laugh rolled through the crowd, and I was able to look at Him and see someone who would be fine without me.
He has no idea how important this mornings funeral was in my life.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
The Slump Returns
So my new job is rockin right along... The computer halts when I type too fast and every screen I go into I have to save before exiting so I feel like a gimp because I have to leave work on my desk when I leave at night, but overall its only mildly aggravating to have three people checking over what I do all day every day.
So I sit at the front desk... Does that mean I don't exist?? That when you walk into the lobby and see three people scribbling on clipboards in the lobby right in front of my open window it is REQUIRED that you ask them if they've been helped?? You just got back from a three hour meeting and I've been waiting for your return to cover my desk so I can, um, EAT SOMETHING, but go ahead and ask if I've told them all to sit and wait for you instead of asking me if I'm going to pass out because you are two hours late.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, you smirky little wench.
Anyway, this is only exacerbated because I got the phone system set up (a full week later) and every time I get a call (about 3 a minute for the first 5 hrs of the day, then it crawls to one every other minute), this window pops up and covers whatever I'm working on. The trick is, I am Quick Draw and have already answered the call and am in the middle of transferring it before any call details show up on this stupid window. So I either learn how to suck more at my job, or don't use this fancy new system they put in a month ago - and keep transferring calls to people already on the phone because the actual phone doesn't tell you any of that because the computer is supposed to. In all fairness, it does, but only if you shrink all your other open windows (I use about 6 for every person who walks up to my desk) in order to leave the extension monitor up. Whats the big deal?? Well, every person needs all six screens to pop up seperately and to resize each of them as they come up is a Little.Time.Consuming.And.Pisses.Me.Off.
Just think... you walk into a temp agency and have an appointment and have all your documents in order and the wide eyed perkfest at the front desk takes 10 minutes to 'pull your file'. This WILL NOT be me. I won't file my nails, chew gum, twirl my hair, or talk on my cell phone at this desk either. My manager tells me its cool to eat lunch at my desk, but that chickedee has another thing coming if she thinks I'll eat while taking calls.
Yeah, so I'm a little on edge. But really, its not the job (I don't think... I hope not... pray to the beer gods with me!!!).
I called Him last Friday.
No idea why. Apparently I was starting to enjoy my life and needed a swift kick in the junk to curl me into a heap again.
It worked.
He ANSWERED my call in the middle of the first ring. I didn't recognize His voice. We stammered around that a bit before I got out "hows it goin? whats up with you?" His reply: "My dad died two days ago, so I've been dealing with that. How are you these days?"
I was sitting in my car, all proud of myself for not crying on the way home, and suddenly I actually felt the wind knocked out of me.
We got around to the part where I find out He Sr. went to work digging trenches for new pipes to be lain in Malibu Wednesday morning and moved live power lines and didn't come home. That it was quick and painless. That his family just walked in from making the arrangements at the mortuary and I can check the Sunday paper for the details if I'd like to attend the services.
He asked about me, so I told him my new job had me thanking him for fixing up my car so my max horsepower could have me duckin and jivin around the asswipes that can't drive in the rain, and that on Wednesday I found a new onramp that had me sitting under the freeway at a red light and thinking that if an earthquake hit and I died that minute that the only thing I could think of that wouldn't be resolved would be how He and I parted ways.
He took that in for a moment, I tried to grasp at the fleeting thoughts of normal conversation while fighting tears, and we ended the conversation after he said "Thank You so much for calling but my family is all waiting for me now so I really have to go."
Or it could be that my coworkers are covering me like I don't exist and refuse to acknowledge any teaching style besides "throw them in the water and they will learn to swim".
But I'm pretty sure its the later... and its killin my mojo with the suited up, slicked back, cologne soaked Mr.s that have been trollen by my desk all day.
I can't wait until this job isn't catching up for how lame my predecessor was and starts to run the way I want it too... so I can cry to you all about how in love I am with a guy who may or may not have told me when tragedy strikes if fate hadn't de-chickened me in time AND get all my work done AND check in and comment on your fabulously distracting blogs!!
So I sit at the front desk... Does that mean I don't exist?? That when you walk into the lobby and see three people scribbling on clipboards in the lobby right in front of my open window it is REQUIRED that you ask them if they've been helped?? You just got back from a three hour meeting and I've been waiting for your return to cover my desk so I can, um, EAT SOMETHING, but go ahead and ask if I've told them all to sit and wait for you instead of asking me if I'm going to pass out because you are two hours late.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, you smirky little wench.
Anyway, this is only exacerbated because I got the phone system set up (a full week later) and every time I get a call (about 3 a minute for the first 5 hrs of the day, then it crawls to one every other minute), this window pops up and covers whatever I'm working on. The trick is, I am Quick Draw and have already answered the call and am in the middle of transferring it before any call details show up on this stupid window. So I either learn how to suck more at my job, or don't use this fancy new system they put in a month ago - and keep transferring calls to people already on the phone because the actual phone doesn't tell you any of that because the computer is supposed to. In all fairness, it does, but only if you shrink all your other open windows (I use about 6 for every person who walks up to my desk) in order to leave the extension monitor up. Whats the big deal?? Well, every person needs all six screens to pop up seperately and to resize each of them as they come up is a Little.Time.Consuming.And.Pisses.Me.Off.
Just think... you walk into a temp agency and have an appointment and have all your documents in order and the wide eyed perkfest at the front desk takes 10 minutes to 'pull your file'. This WILL NOT be me. I won't file my nails, chew gum, twirl my hair, or talk on my cell phone at this desk either. My manager tells me its cool to eat lunch at my desk, but that chickedee has another thing coming if she thinks I'll eat while taking calls.
Yeah, so I'm a little on edge. But really, its not the job (I don't think... I hope not... pray to the beer gods with me!!!).
I called Him last Friday.
No idea why. Apparently I was starting to enjoy my life and needed a swift kick in the junk to curl me into a heap again.
It worked.
He ANSWERED my call in the middle of the first ring. I didn't recognize His voice. We stammered around that a bit before I got out "hows it goin? whats up with you?" His reply: "My dad died two days ago, so I've been dealing with that. How are you these days?"
I was sitting in my car, all proud of myself for not crying on the way home, and suddenly I actually felt the wind knocked out of me.
We got around to the part where I find out He Sr. went to work digging trenches for new pipes to be lain in Malibu Wednesday morning and moved live power lines and didn't come home. That it was quick and painless. That his family just walked in from making the arrangements at the mortuary and I can check the Sunday paper for the details if I'd like to attend the services.
He asked about me, so I told him my new job had me thanking him for fixing up my car so my max horsepower could have me duckin and jivin around the asswipes that can't drive in the rain, and that on Wednesday I found a new onramp that had me sitting under the freeway at a red light and thinking that if an earthquake hit and I died that minute that the only thing I could think of that wouldn't be resolved would be how He and I parted ways.
He took that in for a moment, I tried to grasp at the fleeting thoughts of normal conversation while fighting tears, and we ended the conversation after he said "Thank You so much for calling but my family is all waiting for me now so I really have to go."
Or it could be that my coworkers are covering me like I don't exist and refuse to acknowledge any teaching style besides "throw them in the water and they will learn to swim".
But I'm pretty sure its the later... and its killin my mojo with the suited up, slicked back, cologne soaked Mr.s that have been trollen by my desk all day.
I can't wait until this job isn't catching up for how lame my predecessor was and starts to run the way I want it too... so I can cry to you all about how in love I am with a guy who may or may not have told me when tragedy strikes if fate hadn't de-chickened me in time AND get all my work done AND check in and comment on your fabulously distracting blogs!!
Friday, March 03, 2006
Fuck Its Friday
Hi ya'll.
Yeah, I'm a California girl hooked on the word "ya'll" like its crack.
Deal with it.
Ok, you'd think at a new job and left to the desk alone for the first time I'd be THRILLED its Friday... except I was told I'd have a shadow/mentor ALL WEEK and so I was DONE yesterday. And the gym dude who teaches my kick ass class with my Blonde Bombshell distraction upped me in the circuit last night so instead of little sissy pushups and squats and just standing on the Bosu ball I was adding tricep presses to my squats on the Bosu ball with a jump and solid land in between, no knees on the pushups to move straight into The Plank (like I did 12 times in yoga Wed. night), and enough crunches to make even the most advanced Mister Man in class (AKA Blonde Bombshell) taking the time to learn a new move as an opportunity to LAY.THE.FUCK.DOWN.
Thats right folks. The teacher has to come up with harder moves for this guy and HE was passing out!!!
And all this was after the dance class taught by the little Portugese woman who loves the chacha and mambo... but this week decided the chorus of the song wouldn't be a cha-se or hip swing but rather DOUBLE.HOPS.THREE.TIMES. followed immediatly by a little back and forth with the foot and then a TURN.COMPLETELY.AROUND. and then do it all in the other direction.
And She had a Red Bull before class.
And I had a 200 calorie shake for dinner in the car on the way to class.
And She was side stepping the hops and I was jumping my tatas into my chin the whole damn time.
So yeah, I'm a little upset that its FRIDAY.
Everything in my being says it should be a DAY.OFF.DAMMIT.
I'm not sore, just worn out. I'm not sucking at my job alone, just avoiding doing it. I'm not sorry I did all that work last night, just sad I forgot that my chicken salad for lunch was a waste of a to-go box labeled "nutrition". I'm not cranky, just SO unbelievably thrilled that our coffee machine here makes REAL mochas... making it that much easier to sit at a desk and blog my morning away =)
No pics from here yet - gotta figure out how to be on a remote computer and have 17 programs open without crashing the system...
Happy Friday to you all... may all your gym workouts be soothed by warm creamy french vanilla flavored caffeine...
Yeah, I'm a California girl hooked on the word "ya'll" like its crack.
Deal with it.
Ok, you'd think at a new job and left to the desk alone for the first time I'd be THRILLED its Friday... except I was told I'd have a shadow/mentor ALL WEEK and so I was DONE yesterday. And the gym dude who teaches my kick ass class with my Blonde Bombshell distraction upped me in the circuit last night so instead of little sissy pushups and squats and just standing on the Bosu ball I was adding tricep presses to my squats on the Bosu ball with a jump and solid land in between, no knees on the pushups to move straight into The Plank (like I did 12 times in yoga Wed. night), and enough crunches to make even the most advanced Mister Man in class (AKA Blonde Bombshell) taking the time to learn a new move as an opportunity to LAY.THE.FUCK.DOWN.
Thats right folks. The teacher has to come up with harder moves for this guy and HE was passing out!!!
And all this was after the dance class taught by the little Portugese woman who loves the chacha and mambo... but this week decided the chorus of the song wouldn't be a cha-se or hip swing but rather DOUBLE.HOPS.THREE.TIMES. followed immediatly by a little back and forth with the foot and then a TURN.COMPLETELY.AROUND. and then do it all in the other direction.
And She had a Red Bull before class.
And I had a 200 calorie shake for dinner in the car on the way to class.
And She was side stepping the hops and I was jumping my tatas into my chin the whole damn time.
So yeah, I'm a little upset that its FRIDAY.
Everything in my being says it should be a DAY.OFF.DAMMIT.
I'm not sore, just worn out. I'm not sucking at my job alone, just avoiding doing it. I'm not sorry I did all that work last night, just sad I forgot that my chicken salad for lunch was a waste of a to-go box labeled "nutrition". I'm not cranky, just SO unbelievably thrilled that our coffee machine here makes REAL mochas... making it that much easier to sit at a desk and blog my morning away =)
No pics from here yet - gotta figure out how to be on a remote computer and have 17 programs open without crashing the system...
Happy Friday to you all... may all your gym workouts be soothed by warm creamy french vanilla flavored caffeine...
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Who Rocks The Pawty?
Alrighty.
Got your seatbelts on?? I've got lots of updates and a whole Cardio Funk class of hyped up to burn off... I'm told I have an hour of rapid metabolism and for some reason telling you all about my last few days is better than Tivo.
TV Junkie speaking here. I have been trying to kick the TV habit for years and here I am in front of a computer screen talking about how I am so good for not watching TV.
Whatever.
Keep Up. Bent, take notes. MOT, watch me grow up. Curmudgeon, be proud. Laurie and Mona and April and LBB... hope you laugh your asses off, I'm trying to be as cool as you =)
First, an update.
No, I didn't biff it like a drunk at a sobriety check at the class Thursday night. I felt good when I got to the gym, danced like the little (yet surprisingly rounded) latina told me to for an hour, THEN oogled my new favorite gym rat while on the bouncy ball... I just stared at him in the mirror on the super skilled level and bounced to the beat of the music and thuroughly enjoyed my evening - in fact I totally forgot I was drunk!!! Hahahaha... must have been good if I can't remember the hour before by the end of the night!
Oh, and I got a call from a new friend on my drive home and didn't get to sleep until WAY past my bedtime. Don't get excited, she is just a cool chick who gets me and lives on the other side of the states... no hanky panky with my Blonde Bombshell after class.
I left my cube Friday totally satisfied with my karmic destiny.
And with my ability to leave all that crap for them to figure out since I have done quite a few desk clean ups in my day. I've been working front desks, reception areas, and file rooms my entire post college career... this is me telling karma to shove it. I don't mind being the bigger person, but I'm slimin out of my britches and kinda like it so I'm gonna keep on doin it.
Saturday Syndrome
Do you get this? Where you don't have any plans, its been a big week (remember, this is the SAME WEEK of Disneyland with the sacked out and psycho family, job interviews and job offers abounding, deciding where my career was going by responding to one call back over another, understanding that Corporate American politics is severely too high school to even acknowledge as a part of my 'real life', and getting a whole heap of resolution the same hour Aunt Flo packs up and bails), and there you are waking up on Saturday morning and there is just nothin. No desire to get up. No one tugging at you to take care of them. No ache to soothe, food to scarf, errands that can't wait, friends buggin, family callin, roomies mimicking a pack of elephants... really nothing to break the mood of "huh. sleep. cool. yeah, I'm gonna roll over and sleep."
No? OK, think Office Space when he was supposed to go to work that Saturday and he was in bed until sundown... minus the answering machine (which is awsome for the movie, but not for my Saturdays.)
THIS WAS ME!!!!! The last three months in a cube I refused to watch that movie because I had dreams of finding a guy to drop dead of a heart attack while helping me deal with Cubeville... and as I kiss that goodbye, I DO IT!!!
I rolled over at 8am. My roomie is doing a yard sale. The other ones aren't up yet. I roll over. Sometime around noon the DownStairs Girls take off for manis and pedis (I heard the WHOLE conversation, yes indeedie, Sqweeky and K might as well use bullhorns to talk to each other), I sneak down for the deli sandwich I thought would be free but my lame ass couldn't read the coupon and it was only a dollar off, and eat in bed. Yep, no radio or TV, just four sets of eyes staring me down for the morsels stuck to the paper. And my new magazine that got delivered that morning.
I passed out from laying and reading in the sun beating onto my pillows. The house was still quiet. I take advantage of myself. Three times. Then pass out.
This repeats itself three times. Yep, an afternoon of naps and repeatedly rubbing myself rigid.
Eventually the sun went down and I got in the shower, took off for the gym, and came back for a bit of my usual Saturday - Tivo.
It was awsome. I recommend it to absolutely anyone. Really clears your mind more than a walk or cleaning the space or talking it out. Just sleep and masturbate as much as possible for as long as possible and F E E L the clarity just settle around you. Like feathers falling after a pillow fight.
THEN. There. Was. This.
This one time, at band camp...
I actually had to hear my best friend screw his little (4'8") freshman girlfriend in this gym we were using as our accomodations on a trip to be in a parade and field show competition.
The movie wasn't joking folks. Band geeks aren't geeks at all... on buses and traveling and cooped up together as much as the sports teams and cheerleaders - can you remember a HS football game without us and our brass and bass??
Huh? Was that a Hell No Miss Sassy?? Thats. Right.
To say I had a flashback would be putting it mildly. I heard K come home. I heard someone go outside; then (as I cursed out loud) come back in. They decide her room is too far away and park it 10 feet from her bedroom door on the couch. It is still warm from my ass being there all night, but they don't notice because within FOUR MINUTES I hear a faint then distinct whining... I am trying to find the black dog in the shadows HOPING AND PRAYING TO ALL THE CRICKETS IN THE WORLD that I find a whimpering spasmatic pooch in the hallway.
No Dice.
My roomie decided to bring her date home and do whatever makes a girl go "uhhh uhhhh uhhhh uhhhh" to the tune of Julie Andrews on that damn hill (yes, I had that flashback to. UGH is Right, byotch).
Thought I would do a little bitch move huh? Nope. I figure shes done, they will go to the BED 10 FEET AWAY.
Would I tell you about it if that were it?? I hear him, in a very impressive 2 minutes, moaning "oh, my, gawd".
NOW I pull out the bitch you knew I loved to save just for you. I scream "You Have GOT To Be Kidding Me!" as I toss the blankets and the four magazines and three books I'm reading to the wall and in one fluid triple dance step over the two black dogs soundly sleeping through my tyrad, to the stairs. Taking a moment to plan my attack, I hear "mmmmm" out of him. Um, OK. There are SO Obviously people home and sleeping, and you can't even find a pillow to shove in your fat hole?
I decided to start easy. I flicked on the stairwell light, then right back off, turn on my heels saying "You Are Kidding Me" in a tone very akin to K's very favorite saying and intonation, then SLAM my bedroom door. I wait.
There is a bit of hussle, some racket in the kitchen and a spilled glass of water and whatever else they flung their leg into in the wild panic of being caught humping like monkeys in the living room.
Nothing was said the next day. Too much drama to even metion spluge on the couch.
But not my drama. Something that made T come home crying from her parents house. I guess their brother needs to distract from his life by pointing fingers and dragging up shit so old the Voodoo King wouldn't touch it with a caldron of bats feet and pigs blood.
Anyway, I am similarly lazy on Sunday. I don't get much done, and without the gym, phone calls, or house cleaning I am somehow whipped by the end of the day and conk out by 9:30pm.
"I'm training today, and this new girl here is cool as sh*t."
Direct quote from the girl whos desk I am taking over.
She is 20, plays the barbie game with glitter everywhere (eye liner, french tipped fingernails, lip gloss, and body lotion), refuses to not talk to her boyfriend and the guy she asked out to dinner, or let her cell phone got to VM with the office line ringing.
Yep, shes out and I will ROCK this desk!!
They are used to her not being able to get through this pile of work. It got backed up Friday. Fine. DO IT. Make ME do it!! I'm gonna do it myself in three days anyway - Pass. The. Puck. Phuck!!!
Whatever. She's cool, I dressed way better than her, and apparently there was such a buzz about my coming in that I didn't need to be introduced to the people who I transfer calls to all day... I was lead by the branch manager right to the regional manager to talk about the vice president's visit tomorrow.
Thats right. How do you like them apples?? I am the golden child to the New Boss and SAHWEET CHICKEN do I enjoy this warm and fuzzy in me!!
Last thing, I promise.
Not only is the hip hop dancing wearing off, but my ass is falling asleep and its insanely difficult to roll into the closet and onto lame legs when you haven't cleared a path in the laundry from unpacking or the week of gym and work and weekend PJs.
So whenever I go to the gym, I get an emotional release with my endorphine buzz. Its like the runners high, but with tears. It usually last the 10 minute drive home - some song will tip me over the edge or I am wanting to scream at someone for being a dill-hole or am stressed about something and the water here makes me cry like a spoiled 3 year old in the candy isle.
Alrighty. I have been used to this. Its been happening since I started going, and is pretty consistently controlable by the time my sobbin ass pulls into the driveway.
Yoga. Wednesdays. My newest nemesis. Meditate = let the dredger Run MuthaPhuka!!! I will be tearing up IN CLASS. This last week - heaving and tears flowing before I get to the car. I sit in the car for an HOUR in front of my house. Workin some Shit.Out.Yo.
And when I got the giggles at how lame I was for barking orders of respect to my stearing wheel, I let the laughs come like the tears did and went to bed with a SMILE ON.
Check it out. I come out of the middle of the Week Of Hell 2006 ver. 3A grinnin like I just won gold in the special olympics. (They smile bigger than these professonal athletes, you GOTTA give me that.)
Then it happened... Thursday was my spiked water and dance class and Non-Incidental Core class followed by a phone call before the ick settled in... Friday was cathartic in so many ways, Saturday was simply Orgasmic (yeah baby!), and Sunday was so calm I can't even remember it.
So its Monday, right? I had a first day at work, trained on a whole new system, met 30 new people, wore heels and hose and a matching suit, came home for a brief moment to collect my thoughts and tennies, and blazed a frothy trail (its raining here) to try a new class.
And when the hour of hip hoppin around a room of strangers to steps I've never seen was over... well, NO MORE TEARS.
Johnson and Johnson would be proud.
I was soaked in sweat and rain and full of energy and driving in a town that hasn't repainted lane markers since the Regan administration and when I rounded the corner and looked out over the mountain I felt it.
The glow.
That heat.
The pride.
My Self.
Coming around in a way that is all to familiar to be just a phase.
Like when you walk into your space and you feel its YOURS. Like being home. Its just right to be there. And here, with a bit of a tug at my cheeks, and a bit of twinkle in my eye, I know the ME is waking up.
And you know what?? (MOT, work with me on this one) I started the gym the same week He and I had our third first date... and haven't talked to Him in weeks now.
::heavy breathe::
::grin::
Got your seatbelts on?? I've got lots of updates and a whole Cardio Funk class of hyped up to burn off... I'm told I have an hour of rapid metabolism and for some reason telling you all about my last few days is better than Tivo.
TV Junkie speaking here. I have been trying to kick the TV habit for years and here I am in front of a computer screen talking about how I am so good for not watching TV.
Whatever.
Keep Up. Bent, take notes. MOT, watch me grow up. Curmudgeon, be proud. Laurie and Mona and April and LBB... hope you laugh your asses off, I'm trying to be as cool as you =)
First, an update.
No, I didn't biff it like a drunk at a sobriety check at the class Thursday night. I felt good when I got to the gym, danced like the little (yet surprisingly rounded) latina told me to for an hour, THEN oogled my new favorite gym rat while on the bouncy ball... I just stared at him in the mirror on the super skilled level and bounced to the beat of the music and thuroughly enjoyed my evening - in fact I totally forgot I was drunk!!! Hahahaha... must have been good if I can't remember the hour before by the end of the night!
Oh, and I got a call from a new friend on my drive home and didn't get to sleep until WAY past my bedtime. Don't get excited, she is just a cool chick who gets me and lives on the other side of the states... no hanky panky with my Blonde Bombshell after class.
I left my cube Friday totally satisfied with my karmic destiny.
And with my ability to leave all that crap for them to figure out since I have done quite a few desk clean ups in my day. I've been working front desks, reception areas, and file rooms my entire post college career... this is me telling karma to shove it. I don't mind being the bigger person, but I'm slimin out of my britches and kinda like it so I'm gonna keep on doin it.
Saturday Syndrome
Do you get this? Where you don't have any plans, its been a big week (remember, this is the SAME WEEK of Disneyland with the sacked out and psycho family, job interviews and job offers abounding, deciding where my career was going by responding to one call back over another, understanding that Corporate American politics is severely too high school to even acknowledge as a part of my 'real life', and getting a whole heap of resolution the same hour Aunt Flo packs up and bails), and there you are waking up on Saturday morning and there is just nothin. No desire to get up. No one tugging at you to take care of them. No ache to soothe, food to scarf, errands that can't wait, friends buggin, family callin, roomies mimicking a pack of elephants... really nothing to break the mood of "huh. sleep. cool. yeah, I'm gonna roll over and sleep."
No? OK, think Office Space when he was supposed to go to work that Saturday and he was in bed until sundown... minus the answering machine (which is awsome for the movie, but not for my Saturdays.)
THIS WAS ME!!!!! The last three months in a cube I refused to watch that movie because I had dreams of finding a guy to drop dead of a heart attack while helping me deal with Cubeville... and as I kiss that goodbye, I DO IT!!!
I rolled over at 8am. My roomie is doing a yard sale. The other ones aren't up yet. I roll over. Sometime around noon the DownStairs Girls take off for manis and pedis (I heard the WHOLE conversation, yes indeedie, Sqweeky and K might as well use bullhorns to talk to each other), I sneak down for the deli sandwich I thought would be free but my lame ass couldn't read the coupon and it was only a dollar off, and eat in bed. Yep, no radio or TV, just four sets of eyes staring me down for the morsels stuck to the paper. And my new magazine that got delivered that morning.
I passed out from laying and reading in the sun beating onto my pillows. The house was still quiet. I take advantage of myself. Three times. Then pass out.
This repeats itself three times. Yep, an afternoon of naps and repeatedly rubbing myself rigid.
Eventually the sun went down and I got in the shower, took off for the gym, and came back for a bit of my usual Saturday - Tivo.
It was awsome. I recommend it to absolutely anyone. Really clears your mind more than a walk or cleaning the space or talking it out. Just sleep and masturbate as much as possible for as long as possible and F E E L the clarity just settle around you. Like feathers falling after a pillow fight.
THEN. There. Was. This.
This one time, at band camp...
I actually had to hear my best friend screw his little (4'8") freshman girlfriend in this gym we were using as our accomodations on a trip to be in a parade and field show competition.
The movie wasn't joking folks. Band geeks aren't geeks at all... on buses and traveling and cooped up together as much as the sports teams and cheerleaders - can you remember a HS football game without us and our brass and bass??
Huh? Was that a Hell No Miss Sassy?? Thats. Right.
To say I had a flashback would be putting it mildly. I heard K come home. I heard someone go outside; then (as I cursed out loud) come back in. They decide her room is too far away and park it 10 feet from her bedroom door on the couch. It is still warm from my ass being there all night, but they don't notice because within FOUR MINUTES I hear a faint then distinct whining... I am trying to find the black dog in the shadows HOPING AND PRAYING TO ALL THE CRICKETS IN THE WORLD that I find a whimpering spasmatic pooch in the hallway.
No Dice.
My roomie decided to bring her date home and do whatever makes a girl go "uhhh uhhhh uhhhh uhhhh" to the tune of Julie Andrews on that damn hill (yes, I had that flashback to. UGH is Right, byotch).
Thought I would do a little bitch move huh? Nope. I figure shes done, they will go to the BED 10 FEET AWAY.
Would I tell you about it if that were it?? I hear him, in a very impressive 2 minutes, moaning "oh, my, gawd".
NOW I pull out the bitch you knew I loved to save just for you. I scream "You Have GOT To Be Kidding Me!" as I toss the blankets and the four magazines and three books I'm reading to the wall and in one fluid triple dance step over the two black dogs soundly sleeping through my tyrad, to the stairs. Taking a moment to plan my attack, I hear "mmmmm" out of him. Um, OK. There are SO Obviously people home and sleeping, and you can't even find a pillow to shove in your fat hole?
I decided to start easy. I flicked on the stairwell light, then right back off, turn on my heels saying "You Are Kidding Me" in a tone very akin to K's very favorite saying and intonation, then SLAM my bedroom door. I wait.
There is a bit of hussle, some racket in the kitchen and a spilled glass of water and whatever else they flung their leg into in the wild panic of being caught humping like monkeys in the living room.
Nothing was said the next day. Too much drama to even metion spluge on the couch.
But not my drama. Something that made T come home crying from her parents house. I guess their brother needs to distract from his life by pointing fingers and dragging up shit so old the Voodoo King wouldn't touch it with a caldron of bats feet and pigs blood.
Anyway, I am similarly lazy on Sunday. I don't get much done, and without the gym, phone calls, or house cleaning I am somehow whipped by the end of the day and conk out by 9:30pm.
"I'm training today, and this new girl here is cool as sh*t."
Direct quote from the girl whos desk I am taking over.
She is 20, plays the barbie game with glitter everywhere (eye liner, french tipped fingernails, lip gloss, and body lotion), refuses to not talk to her boyfriend and the guy she asked out to dinner, or let her cell phone got to VM with the office line ringing.
Yep, shes out and I will ROCK this desk!!
They are used to her not being able to get through this pile of work. It got backed up Friday. Fine. DO IT. Make ME do it!! I'm gonna do it myself in three days anyway - Pass. The. Puck. Phuck!!!
Whatever. She's cool, I dressed way better than her, and apparently there was such a buzz about my coming in that I didn't need to be introduced to the people who I transfer calls to all day... I was lead by the branch manager right to the regional manager to talk about the vice president's visit tomorrow.
Thats right. How do you like them apples?? I am the golden child to the New Boss and SAHWEET CHICKEN do I enjoy this warm and fuzzy in me!!
Last thing, I promise.
Not only is the hip hop dancing wearing off, but my ass is falling asleep and its insanely difficult to roll into the closet and onto lame legs when you haven't cleared a path in the laundry from unpacking or the week of gym and work and weekend PJs.
So whenever I go to the gym, I get an emotional release with my endorphine buzz. Its like the runners high, but with tears. It usually last the 10 minute drive home - some song will tip me over the edge or I am wanting to scream at someone for being a dill-hole or am stressed about something and the water here makes me cry like a spoiled 3 year old in the candy isle.
Alrighty. I have been used to this. Its been happening since I started going, and is pretty consistently controlable by the time my sobbin ass pulls into the driveway.
Yoga. Wednesdays. My newest nemesis. Meditate = let the dredger Run MuthaPhuka!!! I will be tearing up IN CLASS. This last week - heaving and tears flowing before I get to the car. I sit in the car for an HOUR in front of my house. Workin some Shit.Out.Yo.
And when I got the giggles at how lame I was for barking orders of respect to my stearing wheel, I let the laughs come like the tears did and went to bed with a SMILE ON.
Check it out. I come out of the middle of the Week Of Hell 2006 ver. 3A grinnin like I just won gold in the special olympics. (They smile bigger than these professonal athletes, you GOTTA give me that.)
Then it happened... Thursday was my spiked water and dance class and Non-Incidental Core class followed by a phone call before the ick settled in... Friday was cathartic in so many ways, Saturday was simply Orgasmic (yeah baby!), and Sunday was so calm I can't even remember it.
So its Monday, right? I had a first day at work, trained on a whole new system, met 30 new people, wore heels and hose and a matching suit, came home for a brief moment to collect my thoughts and tennies, and blazed a frothy trail (its raining here) to try a new class.
And when the hour of hip hoppin around a room of strangers to steps I've never seen was over... well, NO MORE TEARS.
Johnson and Johnson would be proud.
I was soaked in sweat and rain and full of energy and driving in a town that hasn't repainted lane markers since the Regan administration and when I rounded the corner and looked out over the mountain I felt it.
The glow.
That heat.
The pride.
My Self.
Coming around in a way that is all to familiar to be just a phase.
Like when you walk into your space and you feel its YOURS. Like being home. Its just right to be there. And here, with a bit of a tug at my cheeks, and a bit of twinkle in my eye, I know the ME is waking up.
And you know what?? (MOT, work with me on this one) I started the gym the same week He and I had our third first date... and haven't talked to Him in weeks now.
::heavy breathe::
::grin::
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