I have been officially dubbed with a new nickname at work.
You see, my job requires that I dress nicely. That's not too uncommon for someone my age who works in an office. However, in my mind, part of dressing nicely means wearing heels. Not skanky super high ones, but at least an inch and maybe two. I don't think that's a crazy assumption to make either.
Here's where I get myself in trouble... Problem 1: I walk everywhere quickly. Problem 2: The floors in our office are partly linoleum and partly carpet. Everyone knows the sound that heels make on linoleum and other such materials. You'd think I'd be safe on carpet, though. Not the case. The carpet is just as bad! It isn't well padded, so I just go pounding down the hall like a bull elephant on a rampage.
Thusly, the reception desk has decided to call me Thumper because of the noise I make when I travel down the halls. I think I'm more upset about this than when I found out that Bambi's mother died.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
The Doctor Is Out
I am so depressed right now. I just read an article online that stated that Neil Patrick Harris, star of such classics as Doogie Howser, M.D. and Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog (now that I'm writing this, I'm realizing he's played a lot of characters with high degrees...), may be leaving show business for good.
I mourned my loss when I first found out he was gay, because that means I'll never get a chance with him. On the other hand, I'm sure some of the world's most heterosexual men threw their hats in the air in celebration. He's got a pretty decent following in the hetero man crush arena. However, this is all beside the point.
The latest news, which I read today, states that NPH and his partner are having twins by surrogate. I would ordinarily celebrate with them, but the problem is that Neil Patrick is considering leaving acting to be a full-time dad! I'm getting teary-eyed just thinking about it!
Why, oh why didn't Tom Cruise make this decision instead??
I mourned my loss when I first found out he was gay, because that means I'll never get a chance with him. On the other hand, I'm sure some of the world's most heterosexual men threw their hats in the air in celebration. He's got a pretty decent following in the hetero man crush arena. However, this is all beside the point.
The latest news, which I read today, states that NPH and his partner are having twins by surrogate. I would ordinarily celebrate with them, but the problem is that Neil Patrick is considering leaving acting to be a full-time dad! I'm getting teary-eyed just thinking about it!
Why, oh why didn't Tom Cruise make this decision instead??
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Tech Talk
You know, I used to be one of those people that felt pretty tech savvy. Alas, I now long for those days.
I decided that I needed a Skype account to keep in touch with family and friends who are far away. I've actually wanted to do it for quite a while. There was just always something holding me back. I learned last week that it was a fear that I seem to have developed of new technology.
The whole concept just bamboozled me. If my sister hadn't called and basically forced me to sign up for it while I was on the phone with her, I might still be living in my low-tech bubble. But she's mean. So here I am.
The worst part is that the only person that I've actually Skyped with since I've had it is.... drumroll please... my sister. As a test of the system. Go me.
I decided that I needed a Skype account to keep in touch with family and friends who are far away. I've actually wanted to do it for quite a while. There was just always something holding me back. I learned last week that it was a fear that I seem to have developed of new technology.
The whole concept just bamboozled me. If my sister hadn't called and basically forced me to sign up for it while I was on the phone with her, I might still be living in my low-tech bubble. But she's mean. So here I am.
The worst part is that the only person that I've actually Skyped with since I've had it is.... drumroll please... my sister. As a test of the system. Go me.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Star Light, Star Bright
I am wicked tired right now.
I completely blame my roommate for that. There was a big meteor shower last night, and she insisted on waking me up to go watch it. In all honesty, I really couldn't care less. I mean, what am I supposed to say, really? "Ooooh! Look at that! It's a big chunk of space junk heated by friction, causing it to glow! That shining trail of gases and melted matter following behind it is AWESOME!" All in all, the meteor shower was an absolute bust. We only saw one really good one. I guess the rest of the evening surrounding it was kind of amusing, though.
I woke up to one of our neighbors jumping up and down on my bed to get me to come out to watch the blessed event with them. When I finally dragged my sorry butt up, they made me walk up this big friggen hill to the car. I fell asleep on the way to the field where we were going to watch the meteor shower. They woke me up again when we got there and made me walk MORE. I tell you what... I may have said yes to the meteor shower in all its poor timing, but I definitely did NOT sign up for a hike. So we finally get to this stupid field, lay out some blankets and relax while we wait to see some meteor action. We're there for like 10 or 15 minutes before some silly Rent-A-Cop comes and kicks us out. I learned in that moment that all the public parks in the area close at dusk. I had not known that. My roommate did, but she bucked the rules for the sake of the space junk. Also, she said she'd done it plenty of times before and had never been busted. She'd even had a slice of pizza with one of the guys who did patrolling in that area. Well, the fellow we encountered was certainly not interested in sharing any snacks with us. He. was. ticked. We started packing up our stuff right away, but Carley, in what I can only assume was a strange attempt at an apology, told him how she'd never had this problem before and how she spent time in that particular park after dark all the time. BIG mistake. Captain Letter-of-the-Law totally chewed us out for that one. "You guys see that sign over there? The one that says that the park closes at dusk? Well, it may just be me, but I like to follow the LAW." Verbatim.
So in less than an hour, we left the apartment, drove to some field, trekked to the perfect meteor-watching location, got busted by a very angry middle-aged man, trekked back and went home. Probably not worth it for space junk.
I completely blame my roommate for that. There was a big meteor shower last night, and she insisted on waking me up to go watch it. In all honesty, I really couldn't care less. I mean, what am I supposed to say, really? "Ooooh! Look at that! It's a big chunk of space junk heated by friction, causing it to glow! That shining trail of gases and melted matter following behind it is AWESOME!" All in all, the meteor shower was an absolute bust. We only saw one really good one. I guess the rest of the evening surrounding it was kind of amusing, though.
I woke up to one of our neighbors jumping up and down on my bed to get me to come out to watch the blessed event with them. When I finally dragged my sorry butt up, they made me walk up this big friggen hill to the car. I fell asleep on the way to the field where we were going to watch the meteor shower. They woke me up again when we got there and made me walk MORE. I tell you what... I may have said yes to the meteor shower in all its poor timing, but I definitely did NOT sign up for a hike. So we finally get to this stupid field, lay out some blankets and relax while we wait to see some meteor action. We're there for like 10 or 15 minutes before some silly Rent-A-Cop comes and kicks us out. I learned in that moment that all the public parks in the area close at dusk. I had not known that. My roommate did, but she bucked the rules for the sake of the space junk. Also, she said she'd done it plenty of times before and had never been busted. She'd even had a slice of pizza with one of the guys who did patrolling in that area. Well, the fellow we encountered was certainly not interested in sharing any snacks with us. He. was. ticked. We started packing up our stuff right away, but Carley, in what I can only assume was a strange attempt at an apology, told him how she'd never had this problem before and how she spent time in that particular park after dark all the time. BIG mistake. Captain Letter-of-the-Law totally chewed us out for that one. "You guys see that sign over there? The one that says that the park closes at dusk? Well, it may just be me, but I like to follow the LAW." Verbatim.
So in less than an hour, we left the apartment, drove to some field, trekked to the perfect meteor-watching location, got busted by a very angry middle-aged man, trekked back and went home. Probably not worth it for space junk.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Brain Freeze
It's pretty incredible to me that people can be so friggen stupid.
I work with this guy who makes Forrest Gump look like a rocket scientist. We share an office and I swear that my IQ is slowly dropping from being in such close contact with him. He's constantly asking me the most inane questions. I've even had to redo his work multiple times because he's totally incapable. But here's the worst part... the guy can't use Wite-Out! WITE-OUT. It's so simple! It's even the tape kind that you just spread across the page. It doesn't have to dry or anything! He can't do it! I watched him struggle for about half an hour before I finally just took it away from him and did it myself.
The worst part of the whole thing, though, is that while we're still on the same level of the work ladder for the time being, my boss likes him more. She's actually offered him a promotion for a job that I wanted. He turned it down because it would have required that he move out of the Seattle area. Pretentious snob. I would have taken it in a heartbeat! Bah. Alas, I was rejected. I wasn't even good enough to get the job after he turned it down! The WOI (Wite-Out Idiot) not only beat me, but he beat me at a game that our boss didn't even want to consider me for. It certainly makes a girl wonder how others see her.
Soon after this work drama, the power at my apartment went out. Thusly, I was forced to reset my alarm clock. It seemed simple enough. I've done it before. The next morning I was awakened by a coworker who called to ask me where I was. It was 9 am. I should have been at work by 8:30. Yikes. I chalked it up to a late night and kind of forgot about it. That was a Friday. The following Monday, the same thing happened. The same coworker called. Only then did I realize that the time for the alarm was set correctly, but the actual time on the clock was wrong. What a fool. The WOI must be affecting my brain waves more than I realized...
I work with this guy who makes Forrest Gump look like a rocket scientist. We share an office and I swear that my IQ is slowly dropping from being in such close contact with him. He's constantly asking me the most inane questions. I've even had to redo his work multiple times because he's totally incapable. But here's the worst part... the guy can't use Wite-Out! WITE-OUT. It's so simple! It's even the tape kind that you just spread across the page. It doesn't have to dry or anything! He can't do it! I watched him struggle for about half an hour before I finally just took it away from him and did it myself.
The worst part of the whole thing, though, is that while we're still on the same level of the work ladder for the time being, my boss likes him more. She's actually offered him a promotion for a job that I wanted. He turned it down because it would have required that he move out of the Seattle area. Pretentious snob. I would have taken it in a heartbeat! Bah. Alas, I was rejected. I wasn't even good enough to get the job after he turned it down! The WOI (Wite-Out Idiot) not only beat me, but he beat me at a game that our boss didn't even want to consider me for. It certainly makes a girl wonder how others see her.
Soon after this work drama, the power at my apartment went out. Thusly, I was forced to reset my alarm clock. It seemed simple enough. I've done it before. The next morning I was awakened by a coworker who called to ask me where I was. It was 9 am. I should have been at work by 8:30. Yikes. I chalked it up to a late night and kind of forgot about it. That was a Friday. The following Monday, the same thing happened. The same coworker called. Only then did I realize that the time for the alarm was set correctly, but the actual time on the clock was wrong. What a fool. The WOI must be affecting my brain waves more than I realized...
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
My Eternal Gratitude
I started receiving birthday mail yesterday. I got a fantastic card from my wonderful mother as well as one from my Nonno (my mother's father). Of course, the card from my mom was fabulous. The card from Nonno, on the other hand... terrible. Just awful. It's been about 5 years since my grandmother passed away and since then, my Nonno has been writing the cards by himself. He's an incredibly stubborn old Italian man who I just adore. He's not a great writer or much for emotion, so his cards only ever had the words "Love, Nonno" scrawled at the bottom. It might not be prose, but it was him. But NOW he's remarried and his new wife insists on writing something that's actually poetic. While I generally appreciate things like that, in this case, I just want what I already know. Bah.
I also don't like thank you cards. My family is insistent on them. It's practically a crime to get a gift and not respond with a thank you card. So yes... I admit... part of the problem is some sort of leftover teenage rebellion or something. I think that the bigger issue is that I have NO IDEA what to write in a thank you card. I want them all to be different, yet I don't want to spend too much time on them because I know that after a day or two, they'll just be thrown away. It all leaves me with very little to work with. So I think my thank you note to Nonno will go something like this:
Dear Nonno (and Diane... *sigh*),
Thank you so much for the beautiful card! I also really appreciate the $50 that you gave me. I wish I could tell you that I'm doing something fun with it, but I'll probably just do something boringly adult with it like get gas for my car or buy food.
Anyway, thanks for my possibly childish but likely adult gift.
Love,
Your favorite granddaughter (and step-granddaughter... *sigh*)
Ok. It might need a little work.
I also don't like thank you cards. My family is insistent on them. It's practically a crime to get a gift and not respond with a thank you card. So yes... I admit... part of the problem is some sort of leftover teenage rebellion or something. I think that the bigger issue is that I have NO IDEA what to write in a thank you card. I want them all to be different, yet I don't want to spend too much time on them because I know that after a day or two, they'll just be thrown away. It all leaves me with very little to work with. So I think my thank you note to Nonno will go something like this:
Dear Nonno (and Diane... *sigh*),
Thank you so much for the beautiful card! I also really appreciate the $50 that you gave me. I wish I could tell you that I'm doing something fun with it, but I'll probably just do something boringly adult with it like get gas for my car or buy food.
Anyway, thanks for my possibly childish but likely adult gift.
Love,
Your favorite granddaughter (and step-granddaughter... *sigh*)
Ok. It might need a little work.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
An Afterthought...
 |
Here's a picture of the flowers I got for my birthday. Here's the funny part... they're from a girl. That's right. A heterosexual female getting flowers for her birthday from another girl. My life is full of a depressing kind of irony. |
Sublime
After weeks (actually I think it's been more like months) of being without an iPod due to my incredible stupidity on how to work the darn thing, I'm finally back in the black, musically speaking. I forgot how much I love to listen to music! It makes any crap activity ten times easier. Any menial work job... any chores at home... some sort of third option that I can think of right now... it's all easier. My output both at work and at home has gone up dramatically.
Take, for instance, the other day. I'm one of those people who absolutely HATES to go through my mail. If there's a bill, I already have a way to take care of it (i.e. direct withdrawal, which I LOVE) so other than the occasional piece of fun mail from a friend or family member, mail is pretty much useless to me. I also hate shredding all the crap I get, so it just builds into little stacks around my apartment. My neat-freak roommate could not be more pleased about that! Ha. She eventually throws it into a box or a bag and tosses it into the depths of my bedroom where it is promptly forgotten and left to slowly decompose. That's where music comes in very handy. I'll crank up the volume and sing while I trash all the junk mail. It's definitely got a "Whistle While You Work" quality about it... who knew the 7 dwarves would be on to something??
There is a downside though... I also listen to my iPod in the car. You know those people that you laugh at while you're driving because they look so entirely ridiculous while they rock out hardcore in their cars and think no one can see them? Yeah... that's me. I take it to a whole new level though. When people in other cars see me and start to laugh (and I actually pause from my tunes long enough to notice them...), I start singing to them. I normally sing to the world as a whole or whoever is in the car with me, but I don't know... when I see those people laugh, the little girl who used to dream of being a comedian leaps forward and takes complete control. I'm just lucky I haven't been in a car accident while that little girl is in charge! Good Lord, sometimes I wonder how the state of Washington was dumb enough to give me a driver's license...
Take, for instance, the other day. I'm one of those people who absolutely HATES to go through my mail. If there's a bill, I already have a way to take care of it (i.e. direct withdrawal, which I LOVE) so other than the occasional piece of fun mail from a friend or family member, mail is pretty much useless to me. I also hate shredding all the crap I get, so it just builds into little stacks around my apartment. My neat-freak roommate could not be more pleased about that! Ha. She eventually throws it into a box or a bag and tosses it into the depths of my bedroom where it is promptly forgotten and left to slowly decompose. That's where music comes in very handy. I'll crank up the volume and sing while I trash all the junk mail. It's definitely got a "Whistle While You Work" quality about it... who knew the 7 dwarves would be on to something??
There is a downside though... I also listen to my iPod in the car. You know those people that you laugh at while you're driving because they look so entirely ridiculous while they rock out hardcore in their cars and think no one can see them? Yeah... that's me. I take it to a whole new level though. When people in other cars see me and start to laugh (and I actually pause from my tunes long enough to notice them...), I start singing to them. I normally sing to the world as a whole or whoever is in the car with me, but I don't know... when I see those people laugh, the little girl who used to dream of being a comedian leaps forward and takes complete control. I'm just lucky I haven't been in a car accident while that little girl is in charge! Good Lord, sometimes I wonder how the state of Washington was dumb enough to give me a driver's license...
Monday, August 9, 2010
Baby's First Blog
I was welcomed to the Quarter-Of-A-Century Club today. How appalling. I mean, I guess in the real scheme of things it's not a big deal to turn 25, but it seemed like a terribly morbid way to wish me a happy birthday. I can't say I'm thrilled about turning 25, though. I'm sort of feeling as though I haven't accomplished much in all the time I've had. Birthdays are such a downer.
I suspect that there are quite a few people out there who are saying "Gosh, you're SUCH a pessimist. You've got years and years to go, little missy!" True, but that doesn't mean that 25 isn't a milestone birthday. If I was really that insane than our society would be quite a bit different than the one I know and love. How often do we see 40-something men going out and buying sports cars to celebrate their midlife crises? Well, if they can do that, then I can do this. If you don't approve, I have just two words for you... SUCK IT.
With the start of a new year of my life, it seemed like an appropriate time to begin a new blog. I haven't written on a blog in like 3 years. My inspiration actually came from an old blog I used to have in college. I found it last night and read some of the entries. I used to write such clever prose. I guess my body isn't the only thing aging... the ol' brain is going, too. Ha. Anyway, I discovered that I actually missed writing to an audience of people whom I neither know nor see.
I just hope that enough interesting things happen to me to keep writing. All I've done lately is update my Facebook status and that requires a whole lot less effort. There's a character limit. This gives me the option to talk endlessly about nothing. Oh dear readers, how I pity you!
I suspect that there are quite a few people out there who are saying "Gosh, you're SUCH a pessimist. You've got years and years to go, little missy!" True, but that doesn't mean that 25 isn't a milestone birthday. If I was really that insane than our society would be quite a bit different than the one I know and love. How often do we see 40-something men going out and buying sports cars to celebrate their midlife crises? Well, if they can do that, then I can do this. If you don't approve, I have just two words for you... SUCK IT.
With the start of a new year of my life, it seemed like an appropriate time to begin a new blog. I haven't written on a blog in like 3 years. My inspiration actually came from an old blog I used to have in college. I found it last night and read some of the entries. I used to write such clever prose. I guess my body isn't the only thing aging... the ol' brain is going, too. Ha. Anyway, I discovered that I actually missed writing to an audience of people whom I neither know nor see.
I just hope that enough interesting things happen to me to keep writing. All I've done lately is update my Facebook status and that requires a whole lot less effort. There's a character limit. This gives me the option to talk endlessly about nothing. Oh dear readers, how I pity you!
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