I got a message on my flickr account that is so odd I thought I would share it with you, internet.
The photo it is referring to is of my niece, crawling around, practicing her new trick - "kissing". I was sitting on the ground, and she had crawled past my foot, and kissed it. I took a photo of her laughing just afterwards. My foot is in the foreground. And it is not bare; in fact I am wearing an athletic sock, you can actually see the words "DRI-FIT" written across it. Not exactly an attractive look.
Here it is, a message sent to me from a stranger:
:: At your feet
Hello let me say you that you have the most beautiful feet
that i have see in my life. Thank you for your Photos.
You say in a Photo "my feet makes baby happy" , I say that
your feet could have to many people happy. The are very
beautiful feet.
it is dream fot me if any day I could be at you feet.
Slave Alex
It's about time somebody noticed.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
I find my holiday cheer at K-mart
Right now I was supposed to be out finishing my last holiday errands, but instead I am sitting at home waiting for someone to please come give us the gift of hot water. Not that I am complaining - I am actually amazed that (hopefully) someone is coming today, and that a week from now I'm not emailing (we don't get a phone number) our landlord saying, "hey, um, remember how I said that we don't have any warm water? And you said that thanks for letting you know and that you'd call someone? um, well, is that going to happen? You know, anytime soon? If it's not too much trouble?"
Cause that's how it usually goes.
So, instead of using this time to wrap gifts, or clean my house, or think about one of the myriad ways I could make myself a better person this year, I'm going to share some photos with you! Isn't that great news?
And here is why: A few weeks ago a good friend of mine opened an account on a popular networking site - we'll just call it facebook. And because she doesn't have a computer, or digital photos, I offered to put up a photo of her for her account. And she said sure, and so I did. About a week later, I get an email with this subject:
"TAKE THAT PICTURE OFF RIGHT NOW!!!!!!"
It had been followed with another email that said, "Never mind, I don't need you. I replaced it myself and changed my password so that you can't ruin my life anymore."
Now, this person has known me for a long, long time, and frankly, I was surprised that she didn't see this coming. Especially since I told her what I had in mind. Sure, she did mention something about a "normal picture" - but she should know me better than that. I think that it's unfortunate that she's denying the rest of the world this photo, and since I am cut off from her account, I'll just put it here instead. Everybody wins.
A little background story now:
Several years ago, this friend and I were roommates, and one Christmas we realized that for the first time, all of our cards contained photos! Of couples. Couples in cute poses. Sometimes hugging each other and their dogs at the same time. There were no babies yet at this time in our lives, but she did get one card with a copy of a sonogram photo.
When another friend of ours heard that we were going to be living together, she said something like, "You and Jennifer? You guys are going to move in together and never leave." This was my friend's worst nightmare, but we decided to play on our Laverne & Shirley reputation and go to K-mart for a Christmas photo together! We tried to wear matching shirts (red and dark purple-red seems to be the best we could do, for some reason), and we tied matching bows around our head, and off we went.
Now, this seemed like a funny idea until we walked into K-mart and had to face the people that take their jobs very seriously, as well as the people who were waiting to get their child's photo taken (they all stared at us - all of them), and realized we couldn't say anything like, "We know we look stupid, that's the point! Your fake photo studio is ridiculous and so are we!" So we tried to be as respectful as we could, and sucked in the embarrassment.
Our turn in line came and we requested the backdrop of the living room with the Christmas tree and roaring fireplace, and Santa looking through the snowy window with his finger pressed to his lips, giving the viewer a wink, and a "shh! don't tell!" sign. But it seems that was meant for one small child, and not two large adults. They only had one Christmas background that was "family sized", so we had to go with that. Although we still seem to take up the whole thing. And they had props! We were delighted! Although they looked even more confused when we requested them. Here is the final product:
Does the fact that my head is twice as big as hers jump out at you like it does at me every time I see this? She says that she just has a small head, but I'm not so sure.
We were happy with our photo, and ready to pay up and leave, when suddenly they turned the game around on us.
"We have to do 6 more poses," they told us. No, no you don't - we only want the Christmas ones. "We have to do 6 more. It's part of the package."
It went back and forth like this for some time - basically, the point was that we got this good price on our cards if we let them show us all the other non-Christmasy photos they could take for us. They told us that we would get two of each of them with their package! They didn't seem to get that this did not matter to us.
As the discussion went on, my friend got more and more anxious. This was not part of the plan. This was not fun and funny. To her, this was just humiliating. She does not get angry easily, but that day my friends, the day she was told she would have to pose like all the toddlers there, well, let's just say she was fired up. She got angrier and angrier as she kept insisting, "But we're not going to buy any of them!" and no one cared. She ended up striking a deal with the poor people of K-mart - they would give us two 8*10's instead of 1, and she gave this a triumphant, "We get 2? Ok!" Before marching off. Moments later she realized what I had been wondering the whole time, "What are we going to do with 2 8*10's? We don't want any 8*10's!"
But we went through with it, and guess what? I have the results for you! They are very fair over there - we did 2 together, and 2 each by ourselves.
First, the brought out the carpeted block - the thing I associate with children's pictures from the '70's. I am laughing in my pic, but my friend has a steely smile. See, if you look closely enough, you can tell that she is really angry.
This is what I put in her account profile! Do you see how she could not like it? Me neither.
For our second backgrounds, they chose a "starry night" theme for us. What I find interesting looking back at these now is that we no longer have on our ribbons. Did we take them off thinking, "Hey, maybe this will be a good photo! One I want to frame and hang somewhere." I don't know.
Poor thing is still fighting it.
Then came our photos together:
Sexy, no?
And for the last photo, something strange happened - my friend turned around and really got into it! First she requested the white background with the bright paint splattered all over it - remember that look? My sister had some jeans like that in 1984. I don't know remember why, but we didn't get it. And then do you know what she did? When we got there a small girl was being photographed looking into a mirror. The photo was done so that you could see part of her face, and her entire reflection. My friend requested the mirror shot. The thing was, the mirror was not large enough to incorporate our big heads (our my big head, plus her small head), so they searched the store looking for a larger mirror. The line of waiting parents and children was held up because they wanted to make us happy with a mirror shot (way to go, K-mart employees!). In the end they couldn't find one, and we tried ours anyway.
And that is the story of my couples Christmas card. We found out that the people who we thought may not get it really did, and the people who we thought for sure would know it was a joke would leave us messages saying, "um, that was a cute card you sent out..." Ah, well.
You may - or may not have - noticed that I only put in one by myself. I'm not doing it on purpose - I really am laughing in it - I just don't have it scanned in like the rest. I will tell you that it came in handy though. Say, one day, you ask someone what they would like for a gift, and they suggest a photo of yourself. Naturally you think, "What I am going to do? Go pose and then wrap up a large image of my head in a frame? I don't think so." And then you remember that you already have a professional photo! And you have a bow on your head and everything! And then you make a frame yourself to pretty it up and add a personal touch. And you get something like this:
Now, who wouldn't be proud to own that? I know.
Hot water man is now 50 minutes past latest expected arrival time. I sure hope he's not going to make me do something productive.
Merry Christmas, all.
Cause that's how it usually goes.
So, instead of using this time to wrap gifts, or clean my house, or think about one of the myriad ways I could make myself a better person this year, I'm going to share some photos with you! Isn't that great news?
And here is why: A few weeks ago a good friend of mine opened an account on a popular networking site - we'll just call it facebook. And because she doesn't have a computer, or digital photos, I offered to put up a photo of her for her account. And she said sure, and so I did. About a week later, I get an email with this subject:
"TAKE THAT PICTURE OFF RIGHT NOW!!!!!!"
It had been followed with another email that said, "Never mind, I don't need you. I replaced it myself and changed my password so that you can't ruin my life anymore."
Now, this person has known me for a long, long time, and frankly, I was surprised that she didn't see this coming. Especially since I told her what I had in mind. Sure, she did mention something about a "normal picture" - but she should know me better than that. I think that it's unfortunate that she's denying the rest of the world this photo, and since I am cut off from her account, I'll just put it here instead. Everybody wins.
A little background story now:
Several years ago, this friend and I were roommates, and one Christmas we realized that for the first time, all of our cards contained photos! Of couples. Couples in cute poses. Sometimes hugging each other and their dogs at the same time. There were no babies yet at this time in our lives, but she did get one card with a copy of a sonogram photo.
When another friend of ours heard that we were going to be living together, she said something like, "You and Jennifer? You guys are going to move in together and never leave." This was my friend's worst nightmare, but we decided to play on our Laverne & Shirley reputation and go to K-mart for a Christmas photo together! We tried to wear matching shirts (red and dark purple-red seems to be the best we could do, for some reason), and we tied matching bows around our head, and off we went.
Now, this seemed like a funny idea until we walked into K-mart and had to face the people that take their jobs very seriously, as well as the people who were waiting to get their child's photo taken (they all stared at us - all of them), and realized we couldn't say anything like, "We know we look stupid, that's the point! Your fake photo studio is ridiculous and so are we!" So we tried to be as respectful as we could, and sucked in the embarrassment.
Our turn in line came and we requested the backdrop of the living room with the Christmas tree and roaring fireplace, and Santa looking through the snowy window with his finger pressed to his lips, giving the viewer a wink, and a "shh! don't tell!" sign. But it seems that was meant for one small child, and not two large adults. They only had one Christmas background that was "family sized", so we had to go with that. Although we still seem to take up the whole thing. And they had props! We were delighted! Although they looked even more confused when we requested them. Here is the final product:
Does the fact that my head is twice as big as hers jump out at you like it does at me every time I see this? She says that she just has a small head, but I'm not so sure.
We were happy with our photo, and ready to pay up and leave, when suddenly they turned the game around on us.
"We have to do 6 more poses," they told us. No, no you don't - we only want the Christmas ones. "We have to do 6 more. It's part of the package."
It went back and forth like this for some time - basically, the point was that we got this good price on our cards if we let them show us all the other non-Christmasy photos they could take for us. They told us that we would get two of each of them with their package! They didn't seem to get that this did not matter to us.
As the discussion went on, my friend got more and more anxious. This was not part of the plan. This was not fun and funny. To her, this was just humiliating. She does not get angry easily, but that day my friends, the day she was told she would have to pose like all the toddlers there, well, let's just say she was fired up. She got angrier and angrier as she kept insisting, "But we're not going to buy any of them!" and no one cared. She ended up striking a deal with the poor people of K-mart - they would give us two 8*10's instead of 1, and she gave this a triumphant, "We get 2? Ok!" Before marching off. Moments later she realized what I had been wondering the whole time, "What are we going to do with 2 8*10's? We don't want any 8*10's!"
But we went through with it, and guess what? I have the results for you! They are very fair over there - we did 2 together, and 2 each by ourselves.
First, the brought out the carpeted block - the thing I associate with children's pictures from the '70's. I am laughing in my pic, but my friend has a steely smile. See, if you look closely enough, you can tell that she is really angry.
This is what I put in her account profile! Do you see how she could not like it? Me neither.
For our second backgrounds, they chose a "starry night" theme for us. What I find interesting looking back at these now is that we no longer have on our ribbons. Did we take them off thinking, "Hey, maybe this will be a good photo! One I want to frame and hang somewhere." I don't know.
Poor thing is still fighting it.
Then came our photos together:
Sexy, no?
And for the last photo, something strange happened - my friend turned around and really got into it! First she requested the white background with the bright paint splattered all over it - remember that look? My sister had some jeans like that in 1984. I don't know remember why, but we didn't get it. And then do you know what she did? When we got there a small girl was being photographed looking into a mirror. The photo was done so that you could see part of her face, and her entire reflection. My friend requested the mirror shot. The thing was, the mirror was not large enough to incorporate our big heads (our my big head, plus her small head), so they searched the store looking for a larger mirror. The line of waiting parents and children was held up because they wanted to make us happy with a mirror shot (way to go, K-mart employees!). In the end they couldn't find one, and we tried ours anyway.
And that is the story of my couples Christmas card. We found out that the people who we thought may not get it really did, and the people who we thought for sure would know it was a joke would leave us messages saying, "um, that was a cute card you sent out..." Ah, well.
You may - or may not have - noticed that I only put in one by myself. I'm not doing it on purpose - I really am laughing in it - I just don't have it scanned in like the rest. I will tell you that it came in handy though. Say, one day, you ask someone what they would like for a gift, and they suggest a photo of yourself. Naturally you think, "What I am going to do? Go pose and then wrap up a large image of my head in a frame? I don't think so." And then you remember that you already have a professional photo! And you have a bow on your head and everything! And then you make a frame yourself to pretty it up and add a personal touch. And you get something like this:
Now, who wouldn't be proud to own that? I know.
Hot water man is now 50 minutes past latest expected arrival time. I sure hope he's not going to make me do something productive.
Merry Christmas, all.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Oh, naive friend, allow me to enlighten you; Or, Where I gripe about work, part 537
#537) My friend Katherine emailed me last week and asked when our office Christmas party was, and what it was like. She said she liked to imagine how it might be different than the average office party. I chuckled out loud, and then told her I would answer her question here. Based on previous job experience, I think most people probably associate the work holiday party with cocktail attire, a night out somewhere glamorous- or at least nice, live entertainment, drinks, and yummy food. Her estimate of how ours would be different had something to do with people fighting over chicken wings. While it was a valiant effort, she was actually far from the truth. Because, here at lab land, there is no holiday party. Unless you count - and I guess you could - it is a holiday celebration of sorts... are you ready?; It's pretty exciting! The great news was first told to me with big smiles! We all go out to lunch together at a near-by cafeteria! yaaay!!! So, Kat, instead of visualizing the fighting over the wings, imagine about a dozen people dressed in their Christmas sweaters, giddily gobbling up an all you can eat buffet during a work day. Cheap Man may or may not have taken an enema the night before - either way, he can be heard saying,"less talking, more eating", because he must eat as fast as possible to get the most for the money. Most everyone will think this is a great treat. My friend Robin will be disgusted, and not eat anything, and pretend that she is not hungry. I'll nibble at a couple of things, take a look at all that gravy, and start to feel a little disgusted. I will then make up for my lack of real food by eating three desserts. Because we are government funded, any sort of perk like a party would be seen as a misuse of taxpayers money. So we get absolutely none of them - nothing monetary at least. Holidays we can do. The upside here is that you don't have to worry about what to wear and there's no strangely intense pressure to bring a date. yay?
**** speak of the devil - this posting was just interrupted by Vienna Sausage Lady. She rushed in in a state of alarm, because a spread sheet I had created had been given to her by her boss as an example - the formatting that is. But she had looked at all my results, and came rushing in to question them. I just had to remind her that we do completely different things and she shouldn't compare them (she does this a lot). And then she asked us if we'd be wearing holiday sweaters tomorrow (see! I told you!) because this year's glorious lunch happens to be taking place tomorrow. And she said she'd really like to swing by the mall and get our photo taken with Santa. And then she lingered longer to talk about cramps and menopause. Just go ahead and shoot me now, people.
#538) Ridiculous emails - they just keep getting worse.
This deserves its own post, judging by the indignation it brought out in me, but I'll just throw it in here while I am on the subject of whining about work. There is a whole email problem around here that I won't even get into right now because I don't have the time - it mostly has to do with people in places I have never heard of sending emails to people - like me - who don't need to know that an earring was found in their bathroom because we aren't even in the same city - but I digress... This email did apply to me. It makes so little sense, that in a way, it epitomizes the ironic way that time is wasted, all in the name of maximizing work time. I plan on framing it and hanging it up here. Here is how it's written (if you may work with me, please pretend you never saw this):
On Monday January 7 (Power Company) will have to turn the power to the building off. We will need to turn everything off that morning by 8:30. (Power Company) should be finished with the transformer repair by 12:30.
The phones and email will not be working during this four hour time frame.
The staff is expected to report to work as usual.
hmmm... where to begin here. I mentioned it to my boss's boss this way: "So... that email from (Everybody's boss) said that the power will be off on the 7th? And that email will not be working? (he nods.) Um, won't everything not be working?Like the computers that enable the email? And our instruments? (which we need to do any work) And lights and heat?" He leaned back in his chair and said, "Yup. The power will be off." He said that in the olden days, were something like this to happen, we just wouldn't come in till 12:30, but that Head Honcho would not hear of that.
I tried turning off the lights in hear the other morning. It is really dark, people. And you know something about January? It's cold then. And on a Monday morning? I am not going to be very happy. At all. I will be sitting here in the dark, cold, and bored to death. And I will surely be thinking of my warm bed at home. I asked him if I could bring board games and he didn't respond.
There is a tv station near us, and there seems to be a paranoia around here that if we were to say, all come in late one day, it would be all over the news that night, with the headline, "Government employees waste time!!" As my friend Liza said, "I'll tell you what's a waste of time, government employees sitting around for 4 hours in the dark. Amen sister.
Actually, I get into work at 7:30, so make that 5 hours. This is bullocks.
and gripe #539)"Uniforms?!"
There is a big communication problem around here. I won't get into the details of that, either. But here is the latest little surprise - something that was handed to me on Monday. It was a piece of paper that read, "Please pick your TWO favorite colors for the uniform we are working on developing." What?! Uniform? Are we not humiliated enough?
On the 2nd page there were little bars of color printed out from a color printer - a very bad color printer from the looks of it. I took this over to Vienna Sausage Lady to see what she knew about it, since she likes to be up in everybody's business, and boy did I get her worked up. I felt bad after I asked. Because we are supposedly currently broke, and may not have an office pretty soon, and maybe not even jobs, and because there are all sorts of problems that need to be addressed, she felt that this was a grave misuse of time and money. All valid points, however, even if this were not the case, and even if I knew I wouldn't have to pay for them out of my own pocket (VSL speculates on this), I'd still be vehemently opposed. See, I think I've seen a little preview of this "uniform". A few years back we were given shirts as a "thank-you gift". A new coworker who I will call, Poor New Girl, said that as long as they were cute that would be ok. Oh, Poor New Girl, you have a lot to learn. Robin called them "big burlap sacks with giant collars." Does that sound cute, miss young and stylish? Also, they were all - every one of them - men's sizes! And that made me angry - on principal.PYG asked if she could get an extra small - but you know what I mean, right? About men's sizes? An extra small is still going to be big in the waste, and probably not fit in the chest, and then it will still be long. But it will be long and narrow, for a snug around the hips fit that one desires in a polo shirt. And the sleeves will still come down just below your elbow. So where we were supposed to write in "black, navy, stone, yellow, or green", I wrote in "Freedom" by my name. Will this annoy Head Honcho? I'm not really too concerned. I think I may be getting slightly more cantankerous with age.
I welcome some dialogue about the uniforms. It may be the only way I get any information.
Ok, I think that may be enough griping for one day. If you have read this far, I will be very surprised.
**** speak of the devil - this posting was just interrupted by Vienna Sausage Lady. She rushed in in a state of alarm, because a spread sheet I had created had been given to her by her boss as an example - the formatting that is. But she had looked at all my results, and came rushing in to question them. I just had to remind her that we do completely different things and she shouldn't compare them (she does this a lot). And then she asked us if we'd be wearing holiday sweaters tomorrow (see! I told you!) because this year's glorious lunch happens to be taking place tomorrow. And she said she'd really like to swing by the mall and get our photo taken with Santa. And then she lingered longer to talk about cramps and menopause. Just go ahead and shoot me now, people.
#538) Ridiculous emails - they just keep getting worse.
This deserves its own post, judging by the indignation it brought out in me, but I'll just throw it in here while I am on the subject of whining about work. There is a whole email problem around here that I won't even get into right now because I don't have the time - it mostly has to do with people in places I have never heard of sending emails to people - like me - who don't need to know that an earring was found in their bathroom because we aren't even in the same city - but I digress... This email did apply to me. It makes so little sense, that in a way, it epitomizes the ironic way that time is wasted, all in the name of maximizing work time. I plan on framing it and hanging it up here. Here is how it's written (if you may work with me, please pretend you never saw this):
On Monday January 7 (Power Company) will have to turn the power to the building off. We will need to turn everything off that morning by 8:30. (Power Company) should be finished with the transformer repair by 12:30.
The phones and email will not be working during this four hour time frame.
The staff is expected to report to work as usual.
hmmm... where to begin here. I mentioned it to my boss's boss this way: "So... that email from (Everybody's boss) said that the power will be off on the 7th? And that email will not be working? (he nods.) Um, won't everything not be working?Like the computers that enable the email? And our instruments? (which we need to do any work) And lights and heat?" He leaned back in his chair and said, "Yup. The power will be off." He said that in the olden days, were something like this to happen, we just wouldn't come in till 12:30, but that Head Honcho would not hear of that.
I tried turning off the lights in hear the other morning. It is really dark, people. And you know something about January? It's cold then. And on a Monday morning? I am not going to be very happy. At all. I will be sitting here in the dark, cold, and bored to death. And I will surely be thinking of my warm bed at home. I asked him if I could bring board games and he didn't respond.
There is a tv station near us, and there seems to be a paranoia around here that if we were to say, all come in late one day, it would be all over the news that night, with the headline, "Government employees waste time!!" As my friend Liza said, "I'll tell you what's a waste of time, government employees sitting around for 4 hours in the dark. Amen sister.
Actually, I get into work at 7:30, so make that 5 hours. This is bullocks.
and gripe #539)"Uniforms?!"
There is a big communication problem around here. I won't get into the details of that, either. But here is the latest little surprise - something that was handed to me on Monday. It was a piece of paper that read, "Please pick your TWO favorite colors for the uniform we are working on developing." What?! Uniform? Are we not humiliated enough?
On the 2nd page there were little bars of color printed out from a color printer - a very bad color printer from the looks of it. I took this over to Vienna Sausage Lady to see what she knew about it, since she likes to be up in everybody's business, and boy did I get her worked up. I felt bad after I asked. Because we are supposedly currently broke, and may not have an office pretty soon, and maybe not even jobs, and because there are all sorts of problems that need to be addressed, she felt that this was a grave misuse of time and money. All valid points, however, even if this were not the case, and even if I knew I wouldn't have to pay for them out of my own pocket (VSL speculates on this), I'd still be vehemently opposed. See, I think I've seen a little preview of this "uniform". A few years back we were given shirts as a "thank-you gift". A new coworker who I will call, Poor New Girl, said that as long as they were cute that would be ok. Oh, Poor New Girl, you have a lot to learn. Robin called them "big burlap sacks with giant collars." Does that sound cute, miss young and stylish? Also, they were all - every one of them - men's sizes! And that made me angry - on principal.PYG asked if she could get an extra small - but you know what I mean, right? About men's sizes? An extra small is still going to be big in the waste, and probably not fit in the chest, and then it will still be long. But it will be long and narrow, for a snug around the hips fit that one desires in a polo shirt. And the sleeves will still come down just below your elbow. So where we were supposed to write in "black, navy, stone, yellow, or green", I wrote in "Freedom" by my name. Will this annoy Head Honcho? I'm not really too concerned. I think I may be getting slightly more cantankerous with age.
I welcome some dialogue about the uniforms. It may be the only way I get any information.
Ok, I think that may be enough griping for one day. If you have read this far, I will be very surprised.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
raise your hand if you showed your boss a penis today
I tend to embarrass myself quite frequently. I mean, a day without a little humiliation is hardly complete. It's quite boring, really. And today, I embarrassed myself by accidentally making my boss look at a picture of a penis.
Let me go back here for a moment to my recent trip to Spain. Our second night there we took a history and tapas tour in Madrid, where an old, drunk Englishman walked us around, spun us some murderous tall tales, and took us into some of his favorite tapas bars while he shot back glasses of wine. Oh, and he insisted that we call him "The Chairman" - I think he enjoys his work.
Our last stop was a little place called La Torre del Oro. The back wall of this place was covered in framed photos of bull fights. Specifically, people being injured in bull fights. Sometimes the surgery after bull fights. The wall grossed me out.
Now, I've been putting my photos up on flickr, where they are easily accessible at work, but even still, I haven't been showing them around. But today someone asked, and so I pulled up my flickr site, and because she is that kind of person that can take it, I showed her this particular photo. It's a photo of a photo at La Torre del Oro. And I took the photo of the photo because I found it simply amazing that this moment was captured on film. There were many bull fighting photos, but this one jumped out at me because I was told by the old drunk Englishman not to look at it. He asked me and the two other women to turn around and not to listen while he explained it to the one man in our group. So naturally, I listened very carefully. And this is what he said (in his English accent, words slightly slurred): "See that one? See the tear in his pants? Now see that thing in the air over his head? That's his pecker."
And so then I took a photo of the photo. And then I showed it to my coworker. And then, our boss walked in. And he was going to walk by, not even taking a second glance at us (even though he has strictly forbidden use of the internet at work, because it will bring down the whole company with a virus - yeah, that's right), so just as he's walking by, she has to yell, "Oh, gross!" even though she doesn't know what she's looking at - she just says it's gross because a person seems to have been hit by a bull! So he stops, comes back, stands over my shoulder, and leans in to carefully study the photo. And this is where I become very embarrassed. Because it is quiet, and I have obviously pulled up a photo to show-off, and he is about to slowly come to the conclusion that he is looking at a flying penis.
It was especially hard not to switch the screen view (my hand was on the mouse buttons, and my fingers were itching) when he slowly pronounced what I had titled this photo: "dis-mem-bered..." and then you could tell he was thinking it all over.
So, did anyone else use the forbidden internet to show x-rated material to their bosses today? Extra credit if later on they caught you playing scrabulous on your computer. Seriously, that man has the quietest footsteps around. It's like he floats. He's a big, bearded, scowling, no-nonsense, floating man. And sometimes we like to look at pseudo-porn together.
I like to keep it all professional like that.
Let me go back here for a moment to my recent trip to Spain. Our second night there we took a history and tapas tour in Madrid, where an old, drunk Englishman walked us around, spun us some murderous tall tales, and took us into some of his favorite tapas bars while he shot back glasses of wine. Oh, and he insisted that we call him "The Chairman" - I think he enjoys his work.
Our last stop was a little place called La Torre del Oro. The back wall of this place was covered in framed photos of bull fights. Specifically, people being injured in bull fights. Sometimes the surgery after bull fights. The wall grossed me out.
Now, I've been putting my photos up on flickr, where they are easily accessible at work, but even still, I haven't been showing them around. But today someone asked, and so I pulled up my flickr site, and because she is that kind of person that can take it, I showed her this particular photo. It's a photo of a photo at La Torre del Oro. And I took the photo of the photo because I found it simply amazing that this moment was captured on film. There were many bull fighting photos, but this one jumped out at me because I was told by the old drunk Englishman not to look at it. He asked me and the two other women to turn around and not to listen while he explained it to the one man in our group. So naturally, I listened very carefully. And this is what he said (in his English accent, words slightly slurred): "See that one? See the tear in his pants? Now see that thing in the air over his head? That's his pecker."
And so then I took a photo of the photo. And then I showed it to my coworker. And then, our boss walked in. And he was going to walk by, not even taking a second glance at us (even though he has strictly forbidden use of the internet at work, because it will bring down the whole company with a virus - yeah, that's right), so just as he's walking by, she has to yell, "Oh, gross!" even though she doesn't know what she's looking at - she just says it's gross because a person seems to have been hit by a bull! So he stops, comes back, stands over my shoulder, and leans in to carefully study the photo. And this is where I become very embarrassed. Because it is quiet, and I have obviously pulled up a photo to show-off, and he is about to slowly come to the conclusion that he is looking at a flying penis.
It was especially hard not to switch the screen view (my hand was on the mouse buttons, and my fingers were itching) when he slowly pronounced what I had titled this photo: "dis-mem-bered..." and then you could tell he was thinking it all over.
So, did anyone else use the forbidden internet to show x-rated material to their bosses today? Extra credit if later on they caught you playing scrabulous on your computer. Seriously, that man has the quietest footsteps around. It's like he floats. He's a big, bearded, scowling, no-nonsense, floating man. And sometimes we like to look at pseudo-porn together.
I like to keep it all professional like that.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
because laughing at someone else is better than being annoyed by someone else
This morning at work we had a great big pot-luck breakfast. What could possibly go wrong? That's what you think, right? That's what we all thought, too, but we were mistaken... you see, CheapMan was 5 minutes late!!!
Where could he have gone? Why was he walking out the door when the breakfast was about to start in a few minutes? And he left his keys! He never leaves his keys! I'm really worried!
These are ridiculous and annoying questions/statements, yes? I think so, too. But they were quite dire to Vienna Sausage Lady.
However, the problem of him not staying in clear sight did not compare to when he came back (all in one piece) with not milk, as he said he would be bringing, but a PLATE! OF CHEESE! And GRAPES!
Now, if you've ever wondered how much time a person can spend talking out loud about why a person would have brought cheese when they said they were going to bring milk, let me tell you - It's a lot longer than you might think. I mean, a person is capable of going on and on about this. Not just for a few minutes, but for a few dozen. So, while you are sitting there at your desk hearing the words "cheese", "milk", and "5 minutes" over and over again, you can either get annoyed, or you can pretend to listen and let your mind wander.
I took the latter route, and let me mind wander to a little anecdote my friend Mona told me while we were in Spain. It took place a long time ago, when we were in middle school, and this is just one of the great things about having friends you've known for a long time. Something funny can happen to them, and you get much enjoyment out of it, and then years go by, and you forget all about it, and then you hear the story again and it's like hearing it for the first time! You get to laugh at them with the same genuine mirth you did all those years ago. It's wonderful.
You must remember that she was 13 or 14 at the time, which multiplies the magnitude of embarrassment of any situation. One day at school, young Mona went to lunch, dressed up and looking good in a cute top, skirt, and pantyhose. Now, in the cafeteria, you walk through one set of doors, and then you must walk by and through all the tables, which are seating the entire middle school - 6th, 7th, and 8th graders. At the very top, you get to the teachers tables. And then just past the teachers tables, there is the salad bar. Mona was at the salad bar, helping herself, when a high school teacher she didn't know came up to her.
"You're a little hiked up there," unknown teacher woman said.
Mona replied intelligently (and really, what would anyone think that meant?): "What?"
"You're a little hiked up there."
"What?"
"You're a little hiked up there."
"What?"
"Your skirt is tucked into your pantyhose."
And that afternoon in class, her then big boy crush made this oh so mature and well scripted point to her in front of all their peers: "At least I didn't show my butt to the whole school!"
Ah yes, at least I didn't show my butt to the whole school. Those words still haunt her today.
She says this is her most embarrassing moment... so I hope she doesn't mind me writing it down here... hmmm... but it's not like it's shameful and pitiful like my most embarrassing moment. I don't have the courage to write mine down yet, maybe one day, when my brother stops reading this site for example. But I was thinking, perhaps we could get a theme going here. I'll tell Mona's, and then you guys could tell yours, and if you do, I'll tell you mine. So that means you Blay and Lob. Kevin and Splann. Brock. There aren't many more of you out there. Leigh, you said you would guest write, right? Come on, it can't be as bad as mine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)