Sometimes I feel so sorry for myself, I can't stand it. I work with five twentysomething hot shots, whose massive sense of entitlement is rivaled in size only by the enormity of Paris Hilton's coke problem.
They're usually easy to ignore, and since they all look like they just stepped out of a Brooks Brothers add, I can't really tell them apart. I find this works to my advantage most of the time.
Generic White Boy #1:"Hi Red, can you get that file I sent you done by this afternoon?"
Red: "Which one are you?"
GWB#1: "Nevermind, I'll ask Erica."
Red: "Great. Thanks."
However, some are more persistant than others, and since Crazy Train has decided to go on vacation for THREE FUCKING WEEKS, I am the de facto ruler and subsequently, fixer of every little problem.
When one of the GWBs came to me with an issue concerning his laptop, I begrudgingly called our IT service to have them come pick it up and find out what was wrong.
GWB#2: So...can you call them about my laptop? They said it would be fixed this morning, and I still don't have it.
Red: Well, just like I told you when you asked me this question fifteen minutes ago, they are still working on it and will let me know when it is finished. Apparently the virus that you downloaded was pretty heinous, so it's taking them a while to fix it.
GWB#2: Okay. When you talk to them, can you let them know that I really need it as soon as possible?
Red: I will do my best. And in the meantime, you do your best to not open email attachments offering cheap Viagra. Does that sound like a plan?
The moral of this story? I need a new job.
July 1, 2009
June 26, 2009
Read This Shit
http://www.2birds1blog.com/
Fucking hilarious. You can thank me later. Or now. In the form of cash and/or cigarettes.
Fucking hilarious. You can thank me later. Or now. In the form of cash and/or cigarettes.
I've thought about writing a lot recently, but I just haven't actually done it. I've thought about writing about my dog, or my Boyfriend, or yardwork, or my Mother's insistence on calling me every Saturday at 9am.
The problem is, you don't want to hear about it. I don't even want to hear about it.
I bore myself to sleep just thinking of dreadful blog ideas, imagine the repurcussions if I actually got them on the screen. People would be keeling over at their desks and passing out on their keyboards. I can't have strangers' head injuries on my conscience - there is enough on there already from my junior year in college (alternately dubbed "The Year I Dated a Meth Dealer").
Since I'm still a raging narcissist and I enjoy all forms of mental torture, I will continue to rack my tired, overworked brain for nuggets of genius for you all to feast on. Until then, you'll have to make do with this picture of my dog, who, judging by the look he's giving me, thinks he's smarter than me.
The problem is, he may be right.
The problem is, you don't want to hear about it. I don't even want to hear about it.
I bore myself to sleep just thinking of dreadful blog ideas, imagine the repurcussions if I actually got them on the screen. People would be keeling over at their desks and passing out on their keyboards. I can't have strangers' head injuries on my conscience - there is enough on there already from my junior year in college (alternately dubbed "The Year I Dated a Meth Dealer").
Since I'm still a raging narcissist and I enjoy all forms of mental torture, I will continue to rack my tired, overworked brain for nuggets of genius for you all to feast on. Until then, you'll have to make do with this picture of my dog, who, judging by the look he's giving me, thinks he's smarter than me.
The problem is, he may be right.
June 12, 2009
The Twilight Effect
If you have a daughter, ever plan on having a daughter, or know a person who has a daughter, do not let them get their hands on the Twilight books. The highly unrealistic expectations the male characters set in these books will surely make for some interesting relationship issues in the future.
As if Disney movies weren't bad enough, girls now have Edward, Jacob, and a whole herd of able-bodied men who are kind, funny, smart and willing to risk their lives repeatedly to protect the Bella, the female character. Not only are they willing, they seem to enjoy rescuing this clumsy girl from the disasters that constantly erupt around her.
Real life men cannot contend with these fictional creatures who are apparently as beautiful (the author's word, not mine) as they are chivalrous. Does anyone else see this as a recipe for disaster? What happens when the young girls who read these books grow up to realize that not all eighteen year old boys are willing to lay down in traffic just to prove their love?
Also, at no point does Bella have any type of commitment issues with the twenty or so guys who are all in love with her. Somehow, they're all completely fine with openly pining after her even though she constantly rejects them. This is just hilarious in its simplicity, especially considering the labyrinth of high school social cues that are nearly impossible to navigate. When I was a teenager, the best way for a guy to show a girl he cared about her was to ignore her until she developed an eating disorder.
I guess the times have changed.
As if Disney movies weren't bad enough, girls now have Edward, Jacob, and a whole herd of able-bodied men who are kind, funny, smart and willing to risk their lives repeatedly to protect the Bella, the female character. Not only are they willing, they seem to enjoy rescuing this clumsy girl from the disasters that constantly erupt around her.
Real life men cannot contend with these fictional creatures who are apparently as beautiful (the author's word, not mine) as they are chivalrous. Does anyone else see this as a recipe for disaster? What happens when the young girls who read these books grow up to realize that not all eighteen year old boys are willing to lay down in traffic just to prove their love?
Also, at no point does Bella have any type of commitment issues with the twenty or so guys who are all in love with her. Somehow, they're all completely fine with openly pining after her even though she constantly rejects them. This is just hilarious in its simplicity, especially considering the labyrinth of high school social cues that are nearly impossible to navigate. When I was a teenager, the best way for a guy to show a girl he cared about her was to ignore her until she developed an eating disorder.
I guess the times have changed.
June 9, 2009
Chats From the Edge
It's time for your weekly installment of "Chats From the Edge" (basically, excerpts from conversations my old roommate and I have about the most random shit).
Ex-Roommate: I keep telling my parents that I will elope and that they had their fun wedding when my brother got married and that I'm not dealing with all that shit.
Me: I'm pretty much my family's only shot, so i've got all the wedding pressure.
Me: My brothers will never get married, and if they do, it will be through one of those "Meet an Inmate" programs at the prison.
Ex-Roommate: I keep telling my parents that I will elope and that they had their fun wedding when my brother got married and that I'm not dealing with all that shit.
Me: I'm pretty much my family's only shot, so i've got all the wedding pressure.
Me: My brothers will never get married, and if they do, it will be through one of those "Meet an Inmate" programs at the prison.
June 8, 2009
On Friday night, the Boyfriend and I came thisclose to getting another dog. Our hopes were dashed when someone else snapped him up because it took forever for me to convince him it was a good idea. Boyfriend took this to mean that the dog wasn't meant to be ours. I took it to mean that the Boyfriend took too damn long to make up his mind and consequently thwarted my chance at happiness.
I let him make it up to me by taking me out to dinner on Sunday night. Except his idea of "dinner" was apparently much different from mine, and we found ourselves at Subway. Over my six-inch turkey on wheat, I told him that if he ever got between me and another dog again, I'd have to make some decisions of my own and the odds weren't in his favor. I think he understood because next weekend we're going to look at puppies.
That, my friends, is the lost art of negotiation.
I let him make it up to me by taking me out to dinner on Sunday night. Except his idea of "dinner" was apparently much different from mine, and we found ourselves at Subway. Over my six-inch turkey on wheat, I told him that if he ever got between me and another dog again, I'd have to make some decisions of my own and the odds weren't in his favor. I think he understood because next weekend we're going to look at puppies.
That, my friends, is the lost art of negotiation.
June 2, 2009
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