Monthly Archives: July 2008

Like the zoo, but beiger

Just announced over the corporate intercom:

“Sarah Smith, please go back to your cubicle.  Sarah Smith, please go back to your cubicle.”

We know you want to escape Sarah, we all do, but remember – YOU ONLY GET TO COME OUT AT FEEDING TIME. 

And at night, but sometimes not even then.

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Moo.

I am 23.  The coworker next in age to me is 33.  The average age of the rest of my depart is approximately 47.

I’m starting to realize that, because I am so much younger than they are, my coworkers view with me with an interesting mixture of contempt, curiosity, vicarious longing, mockery, delight, envy and good ol’ fashioned voyeurism. 

They envy my shoes, towering heels that only the young and spry can wear (and run in, if necessary) to work.  They are always up for a good story about my weekend hijinks and how many boys I’ve made out with recently (especially when in Slovenia…), one coworker in particular is a touch contemptful, especially when the boss lady chooses my ideas over his (sorry, dude) and they generally spend lots of time teasing me for calling people “dudes” or “peeps” and saying “fo’shizzle, I can get that project managed for you!”  It’s all in good fun – I would never fo’ shizzle a client, at least, not on purpose – and I actually feel like it’s my duty to be a socially responsible 23-year old coworker by teaching my department all about bling, staycations, and how it is, truly physically possible to make out with four Italian men in one night in Slovenia.

But as of today, none of this matters because one of my co-workers (one of the 47+ year old variety) not only said, “like, totally!” in response to a question from the boss, but when asked for the status on a current project, she also said “Um, the client totally had a cow about that, so we’re not even doing it now.”

Um, I like, totally have so much leverage over you now!  And, like, you can’t mock me anymore the next time I tell you to check your grillz after lunch.  Especially if you’ve eaten cow of any sort.  Fo’ shizzle.

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I wish someone would send ME to a better place

If you wanted to live vicariously through me today (c’mon, I know you do!) then I have a hilariously sad and awkward story for you.

The Players:

Man Coworker – my unfortunate coworker who not only wears a terrible, completely non-matching ALL green outfit (twice now – twice!) but he’s also the one who stutters and repeats himself and gets really offended all the time.

Woman Coworker – my lovely coworker who has had the shittiest month known to man: father-in-law passed away, father is in hospice, high school friend died in a freak car accident, and her beloved gray hound rescue dog, DOG*, that is like a surrogate child (they don’t have kids) had to be put down last week because he was really old and in horrible nerve pain.  And everyone knows all of this because she just tears up randomly in meetings (which no one blames her for AT ALL) so we’re all trying to be extra sensitive.

Here is what transpired:

Man Coworker and Woman Coworker** and I arrived to the staff meeting a minute before everyone else.  Woman has a picture of DOG in her planner, and Man leaned over to look at it and says to Woman (in a BABY VOICE that totally freaked me out and I hope I never EVER hear again) “Oh, is that a picture of DOG!  Oh how cute!  How is that lil’ sweetie these days?”

(Yes, he actually said lil’ sweetie – sick sick sick)

To which Woman had to respond, “Um, he’s, well, he’s gone actually.  We put him down last week.”

Um, way to pay attention to WTF goes on around here, MAN.  Really, thumbs up for you.

And then he tried to backpedal and compare it to how people would ask after his wife and he would have to admit they’d gotten a divorce.

Death of a dog that was a surrogate child…your divorce, in which both parties are still living = not in any way the same.  Except maybe to compare DOG and your ex-wife, because they’re both in a better place now.

This was even worse than the most awkward meeting ever with Man from last week, which I couldn’t even blog about, because I was too busy cleaning out my verbal filter.  It becomes clogged after meetings with Man, on account of there is so much to say and no appropriate time or place to say them.

He’s just lobbing them right out of the park these days OH. MY. GOD.

So there’s your little office tidbit for the day.  If I don’t get a book or at least a few humorous essays out of this place, I don’t deserve to call myself a writer in any capacity. 

*Not his real name.

**Also not their real names.  Surprise!

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Double check yourself before…well, you know what happens

If you are, generally speaking, quite a lovely person, there are still some things you cannot get away with.  These things include, but are not limited to:

– Talking with your mouth full.

– Eating and talking in a large room full of people, or while on the phone.

– Chewing so loudly that I can HEAR you.

– Other food-related atrocities.

So, if you think you are a lovely person, generally speaking, you should double check yourself before you wreck yourself and make 100% sure that you don’t do any of these things.  Or else people will write about you on their blogs.

I’m always here for you, Internet.

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A Poo-Related Monday Query

I know, I know.  You don’t like to talk about poo.  It makes you feel uncomfortable and squirmy inside (no disgusting free association intended here, but it might happen anyway) and a little bit hot in the face.

I used to be afraid to talk about poo, too.  Until one rainy day, in the back of LP’s car, (not that it matters that I identify that it was her car – LP stopped reading this post about nine words in) she and JB and I had a long and serious poo-related conversation that made me realize not only was it unhealthy to keep my feelings about poo inside (constipated, if you will?) but in my reluctance to talk about poo in any way, I was missing out on the opportunity to exploit and mock a universal truth: everybody poos.

Yessiree, it’s just like the children’s book says. Jennifer Aniston poos, the president poos, your mom poos, you poo.  Nothing to be ashamed of here.

However, to expand upon this further, it must also be realized that one’s coworkers poo. 

Enter the Poo-Related Monday Query:  Why, oh why, dear coworkers, must you poo in the upstairs bathroom? The one where everybody goes to do less time-intensive bathroom activities? 

Yes, I know, we have established that everyone poos.  HOWEVER – when I walk in and a mystery mid-pooing coworker is indeed mid-poo, things get very uncomfortable when she (whoever she is) tries to deny this fact by gingerly perching atop her porcelain seat, carefully lifting up her feet and breathing quietly until I walk back out.  Like a snow rabbit who has found the last carrot on the tundra and so stays stock still until the threat has passed, I often catch a mid-pooing coworker while brushing my teeth after lunch, and boy howdy is it awkward for me to be standing there, taking my time to polish my pearlies, while I know this coworker is trying to quietly conceal the state of affairs that is occuring in the last stall.

I say, either get on with your bad self no matter who hears you, OR go downstairs to the lesser used bathroom that was made, clearly, for situations such as this.

But for the love, do not perch mid-poo.  Not only does it seem like it would be annoying, but also incredibly dangerous.  After all, the only thing worse than being interrupted while doing the do, would be losing balance while doing the do.

Because that’s awkward.  And potentially messy.  And sooooooooo not the way Jennifer Aniston would do it.

 

PS – Hi LP!  Did you make it all the way to the end of this post?  Did you?  Are you freaking out right now, because I said poo so many times (17 times, be precise) ?  Call me!

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I’m wearing my excited pants right now – are you?

Exciting things are happening, Internet! 

Exciting Thing #1: I am helping my lovely friend Allison with some wedding planning – her wedding is in three weeks (yes, we know, but fear not.  Who’s not stressed?  She’s not stressed!  I’m a little stressed, but I’m not the bride, so that’s something we can deal with…I think…) and we came up with THE most fabulous idea ever involving centerpieces and favors for the reception.  If you are not attending the impending nuptials of Allison and Bern, hoo boy are you missing out.

These centerpiece situations are quirky, unique, completely custom, and eco- and human-friendly to boot, which is perfect for their wedding.  I’ll be posting pictures post-wedding, if anyone cares.

Exciting Thing #2: I am pondering two rather drastic life changes – a move to either San Francisco, or Washington, DC – in the form of potential job opportunities.  This may be a little preemptive, because I have no idea if anything will come of applying, but I have some inside peeps involved for both potential opportunities, so I think that may help.  More later, when I can firmly say that’s something is actually happening, but I could not even focus on my sleeping last night, that’s how excited I am about the idea of making a big change.  Terrifed, but excited.  And when I start to get too terrified about leaving the CO, I think about spending another year in A-Town, living with my current “roommates”, still working at my current place of employment.  And that is more terrifying than anything else.  Fear is a powerful motivator people.

Exciting Thing #3: My “roommates” went to Hawaii this week (I think it’s getting serious between them!) so I have the house all to myself.  Naturally, I have been jumping on my bed and running around without pants on, but I’m starting to get tired of that.  SO, in lieu of going Diablo Cody on everybody and just taking it all off, I have decided to stay clothed and have a little fiesta instead.  Does Friday work for everyone?  Friday, around Happy Hour O’Clock?  Great.  I know that you’ll be there with bells – and pants – on.  Because if I have to wear them, so do you.

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