I had a conversation today with a coworker about installing a sense of humor in your kids. He and his wife have taught their twin one and a half year olds to fart on them. Yes, they walk up to their parents, sit on them, and fart. It both reminded me of this story and made me feel better about it.
Once when my niece was younger and in diapers, before she could talk, so maybe she was one and something – she had this dirty diaper that reeked and she was avoiding being changed. So my mom, my sister, and I were indicating that she smelled, by saying “eeew!” and waving our hands in front of our noses, and the kid stopped and started taking it all in. She looked at me, sitting on the kitchen floor, she looked back at my mom, and back at me again. And she toddled over to me, went around to my back, toddled around so we were back to back, and proceeded to rub her poopy-lumped pants up and down on my back. Now, she was all covered up, so it wasn’t like I was getting dirty, but I was so grossed out by the feel of the poop, that my reflexes kicked in (and I’m not proud of this) but I elbowed her away – right into the kitchen cabinets. I immediately felt horrible and kind of caught her, and stood her back up again, and started apologizing and asking if she was ok, but she already had her eyes back on her target – my back – and toddled back around behind me and did it again.
To me, this was hilarious – plus, I knew that even though she couldn’t talk, she was going to have a sense of humor! One like mine! My sister and my mother, on the other hand, were so horrified that they won’t let me talk about it, even to this day.
But the best part was, you know how sometimes you torture your siblings just for fun? My sister and I have always been pretty different - what I find funny, she finds "weird". It's almost like a game - as in, “Oh yeah? Well, I’m going to make your kid more like ME! So take that!”
Score 1 for me.
But this is a work in progress. I've never been to visit them since they moved away over a year ago. So this week I decided to pick up and go, and paid too much for a last minute ticket. There is work to be done people, and sick senses of humor to be cultivated. She may be a mom, but she'll always be my little sister. And if I can't be there to annoy her, then at least I can give her daughter some pointers.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Conversing
Mona: He’s cute. I’d go out with him.
Me: He’s married. They have 2 kids.
Mona: I know he’s married. Pretty much everyone is married but us. Think about it - everyone’s done it. Hermes has. Everyone but us. I know what my problem is, I don’t know about yours.
Me: Soo… do you think there could be a guy out there that’s perfect for me that hasn’t gotten married yet?
Mona: No. (without hesitation, and maybe a hint of disgust.)
Me: (laughing hard. Because you gotta love the honesty.)
Me: He’s married. They have 2 kids.
Mona: I know he’s married. Pretty much everyone is married but us. Think about it - everyone’s done it. Hermes has. Everyone but us. I know what my problem is, I don’t know about yours.
Me: Soo… do you think there could be a guy out there that’s perfect for me that hasn’t gotten married yet?
Mona: No. (without hesitation, and maybe a hint of disgust.)
Me: (laughing hard. Because you gotta love the honesty.)
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Speaking of aging...
In light of my last post, I would like to find out what anti-aging pills this guy is taking, and get my hands on a whole bunch of those.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
I always knew this day would come
For many years - many, many years - I have, to the eyes of outside observers, looked younger than my actual age. For a long time, I didn't see this as a good thing. Take these examples:
- I'm 16, and my mom takes me and my 13-year-old sister for haircuts. The lady at the desks asks my mom for our names and ages, and when she says "16 and 13" the lady looks up, back and forth between my sister and myself, sneers, and says with disbelief, "Which one is 16?" My sister looks delighted, I feel humiliated.
- I'm 17, a junior in high school, and my friend Lob is dating a senior. She asks him if he knows who I am, and his answer is, "Yeah, the one that looks like a freshman." I never liked that guy.
- numerous times in college while trying to get into any 21 and over event
- I'm 22 and starting my first job. I've introduced myself to a co-worker my age, and am chatting until I stop to ask her a question. Her response? Smiles, shakes her head, and says, "It's like you just stepped out of high school and landed in my office!"
- A year later at the same job, I'm asked to go out for a night with a client. One younger woman, and one well-seasoned man. The man asks me exactly what my relevant experience is, and while I try to sound like I know what I'm talking about, he stares at me. When I'm finished, hoping I wait for his response, hoping I succeeded in not sounding like an idiot. His response is to continue to stare while saying, "Did you know you have dimples and freckles? How old are you?"
Sometime soon after this - as we get into my mid-twenties there, I don't mind this so much anymore, so the stories stop. But while it was still a bad thing, do you know what people would tell me? "One day you'll be greatful for this. You'll be 50, and people will think you're 30."
And do you know what I would say to this?? "Uh, no. No, no that will not happen. One day, when it becomes convenient for me to look younger, I will wake up and I will look 15 years older than my actual age. This is how my luck works."
And do you know where I'm going with this next, my people? That's right, that day has come.
The proof:
- This week my niece refers to herself as "a big girl." I ask if I'm a big girl, too. She laughs and says, "Nooo!" Well what am I, then? "You're a grown-up!" Ok, maybe that one's a little obvious, but it depressed me all the same.
- This week at my soccer game, a man on an over 40 team came up to my team - not exactly my whole team - more like just a small group of us that included me - and said he would keep his ears out for us for any over 40 leagues that may be starting up. I then witnessed our captain look each one of us in the face, trying to figure out which one of us looked so old that we were averaging the whole team out into the over 40 category. I prefer to think it wasn't me, but I was among the oldest there.
- Just tonight, I was out for a run, and may have stopped at a new Mexican restaurant to breathe in the sweet sweet aroma while looking over the menue and dreaming of margaritas - and a couple (a couple who is obviously older than me)stops on their way in and the man says, "Excuse m'am, but is that a Virginia shirt your wearing?" When I tell him it is, his wife (again, older) asks what year I graduated. Usually when I reply to this with "98", I'm used to getting "Oh! You were way before me! You look so young!" But this time it was a very surprised, "Ooh! Well. Good for you then. We were '87." Really? I mean it has been over 10 years, how much older than that do I look?
But the worst, the absolute worst of all was this one:
- I'm at the lake with friends of mine who are married, and just happen to be 1 and 2 years younger than me. Also at the lake, is our other friend's 5-year-old niece. She asks my married friends if they are brother and sister. Nooo... no we're not brother and sister, they tell her. "Well if you're not brother and sister, how come you look just alike?" (What every couple wants to hear, right?) And then she pulls this out: "I thought you were brother and sister, and she was your mother." And with that, she points across the deck to your truly. And many heads turn to stare. And there's nothing I can do but sit there and look matronly. That's right people, I have birthed a 31-year-old woman and a 32-year-old man. Would you not agree that I have taken the age leap that I have for so long predicted?
My only consolation on this last point is that the same kid thought my friends looked just alike. And I think I can disagree with her there. What do you think?
- I'm 16, and my mom takes me and my 13-year-old sister for haircuts. The lady at the desks asks my mom for our names and ages, and when she says "16 and 13" the lady looks up, back and forth between my sister and myself, sneers, and says with disbelief, "Which one is 16?" My sister looks delighted, I feel humiliated.
- I'm 17, a junior in high school, and my friend Lob is dating a senior. She asks him if he knows who I am, and his answer is, "Yeah, the one that looks like a freshman." I never liked that guy.
- numerous times in college while trying to get into any 21 and over event
- I'm 22 and starting my first job. I've introduced myself to a co-worker my age, and am chatting until I stop to ask her a question. Her response? Smiles, shakes her head, and says, "It's like you just stepped out of high school and landed in my office!"
- A year later at the same job, I'm asked to go out for a night with a client. One younger woman, and one well-seasoned man. The man asks me exactly what my relevant experience is, and while I try to sound like I know what I'm talking about, he stares at me. When I'm finished, hoping I wait for his response, hoping I succeeded in not sounding like an idiot. His response is to continue to stare while saying, "Did you know you have dimples and freckles? How old are you?"
Sometime soon after this - as we get into my mid-twenties there, I don't mind this so much anymore, so the stories stop. But while it was still a bad thing, do you know what people would tell me? "One day you'll be greatful for this. You'll be 50, and people will think you're 30."
And do you know what I would say to this?? "Uh, no. No, no that will not happen. One day, when it becomes convenient for me to look younger, I will wake up and I will look 15 years older than my actual age. This is how my luck works."
And do you know where I'm going with this next, my people? That's right, that day has come.
The proof:
- This week my niece refers to herself as "a big girl." I ask if I'm a big girl, too. She laughs and says, "Nooo!" Well what am I, then? "You're a grown-up!" Ok, maybe that one's a little obvious, but it depressed me all the same.
- This week at my soccer game, a man on an over 40 team came up to my team - not exactly my whole team - more like just a small group of us that included me - and said he would keep his ears out for us for any over 40 leagues that may be starting up. I then witnessed our captain look each one of us in the face, trying to figure out which one of us looked so old that we were averaging the whole team out into the over 40 category. I prefer to think it wasn't me, but I was among the oldest there.
- Just tonight, I was out for a run, and may have stopped at a new Mexican restaurant to breathe in the sweet sweet aroma while looking over the menue and dreaming of margaritas - and a couple (a couple who is obviously older than me)stops on their way in and the man says, "Excuse m'am, but is that a Virginia shirt your wearing?" When I tell him it is, his wife (again, older) asks what year I graduated. Usually when I reply to this with "98", I'm used to getting "Oh! You were way before me! You look so young!" But this time it was a very surprised, "Ooh! Well. Good for you then. We were '87." Really? I mean it has been over 10 years, how much older than that do I look?
But the worst, the absolute worst of all was this one:
- I'm at the lake with friends of mine who are married, and just happen to be 1 and 2 years younger than me. Also at the lake, is our other friend's 5-year-old niece. She asks my married friends if they are brother and sister. Nooo... no we're not brother and sister, they tell her. "Well if you're not brother and sister, how come you look just alike?" (What every couple wants to hear, right?) And then she pulls this out: "I thought you were brother and sister, and she was your mother." And with that, she points across the deck to your truly. And many heads turn to stare. And there's nothing I can do but sit there and look matronly. That's right people, I have birthed a 31-year-old woman and a 32-year-old man. Would you not agree that I have taken the age leap that I have for so long predicted?
My only consolation on this last point is that the same kid thought my friends looked just alike. And I think I can disagree with her there. What do you think?
Monday, May 4, 2009
Some things are hard to forget
Recent conversation I had with a boy I once knew:
Boy: "I guess I did call you a moose once (that's right people - a moose), but I think I meant it in an affectionate, friendly way."
Me: "mmhmm."
Boy: "I mean, you did ask me what kind of animal you look like, right?"
(Now, before I respond to this, let me make 2 points:
1) I am not so stupid as to ask that question. Especially of a boy who I am supposed to be interested in, and who I hope doesn't think I look like a large, ugly, clumsy animal. That has about a 99.9% chance of going wrong.
2) Even if I had asked that, is that really any kind of excuse? Besides the elephant and the whale (and maybe a possum), is there a worse answer?)
Lucky for him, I have an amazing memory only for things that other people wish I didn't remember, so I was able to respond to this with 100% certainty:
Me: "No, I did not ask you what kind of animal I looked like. I was asking you if you wanted one of my baby muppets (A gift from my friend Splann - they adorned my bookcase), and you pointed, and requested the moose."
What happened next here was that I got really confused - because do you remember a Moose Muppet? Neither did I. But what else could he possibly be talking about, right? So with my great look of confusion, I turned back to my bookcase, and searched for the moose. When I turned back around to say that I wasn't seeing the moose, he was still pointing. And as I looked at the excusing finger, and followed it's path with my eyes - a path that lead straight to myself - my question about the moose muppet kind of slowed and then got stuck in my mouth, and then I believe my expression probably changed to something like horrified indignation - because his changed from confident nonchalance (oddly enough), to one of "uh...wait... was that wrong? (wheels turning, wheels turning)".
Me: "And then you looked scared, and said, "...I was just trying to think of what animal you look like.""
(At this point, I'm pretty sure my expression got worse. And I was speechless.)
Him: "Well - a moose is a funny-looking animal - so it was funny, right?!"
Me: (sigh) "I just hope you've learned from this."
The truth is, it was funny. Because it was so shocking - shocking that a full grown man would not know that this may not be received as cute as it was intended to be.
The reason this all came up is that I was talking to a friend about dumb things men say - about insults when they are trying to be flattering. There were many, MANY examples (not just mine - but good ones from friends), but when this anecdote popped into my head, and I shared it, she found it the most shocking of all. It may have been my reenactment of my reaction - but she was laughing so hard that she was crying, having trouble breathing, and falling out of her chair. So when I told this boy that I had nearly killed a coworker by sharing this story, do you know what he thought? He focused on the first part of the sentence, and really believed I had nearly killed someone in my office. I mean, a moose, ok. I can see where you get that - but a rabid moose? Come on. Don't I deserve better than that?
(p.s. My dad's pet name for my sister when we were little? "SweetPea". And what did he call me? "Moose Breath".
(p.p.s. I had already started writing this down when I read this today. I like it better. So glad I'm not the only one!)
Boy: "I guess I did call you a moose once (that's right people - a moose), but I think I meant it in an affectionate, friendly way."
Me: "mmhmm."
Boy: "I mean, you did ask me what kind of animal you look like, right?"
(Now, before I respond to this, let me make 2 points:
1) I am not so stupid as to ask that question. Especially of a boy who I am supposed to be interested in, and who I hope doesn't think I look like a large, ugly, clumsy animal. That has about a 99.9% chance of going wrong.
2) Even if I had asked that, is that really any kind of excuse? Besides the elephant and the whale (and maybe a possum), is there a worse answer?)
Lucky for him, I have an amazing memory only for things that other people wish I didn't remember, so I was able to respond to this with 100% certainty:
Me: "No, I did not ask you what kind of animal I looked like. I was asking you if you wanted one of my baby muppets (A gift from my friend Splann - they adorned my bookcase), and you pointed, and requested the moose."
What happened next here was that I got really confused - because do you remember a Moose Muppet? Neither did I. But what else could he possibly be talking about, right? So with my great look of confusion, I turned back to my bookcase, and searched for the moose. When I turned back around to say that I wasn't seeing the moose, he was still pointing. And as I looked at the excusing finger, and followed it's path with my eyes - a path that lead straight to myself - my question about the moose muppet kind of slowed and then got stuck in my mouth, and then I believe my expression probably changed to something like horrified indignation - because his changed from confident nonchalance (oddly enough), to one of "uh...wait... was that wrong? (wheels turning, wheels turning)".
Me: "And then you looked scared, and said, "...I was just trying to think of what animal you look like.""
(At this point, I'm pretty sure my expression got worse. And I was speechless.)
Him: "Well - a moose is a funny-looking animal - so it was funny, right?!"
Me: (sigh) "I just hope you've learned from this."
The truth is, it was funny. Because it was so shocking - shocking that a full grown man would not know that this may not be received as cute as it was intended to be.
The reason this all came up is that I was talking to a friend about dumb things men say - about insults when they are trying to be flattering. There were many, MANY examples (not just mine - but good ones from friends), but when this anecdote popped into my head, and I shared it, she found it the most shocking of all. It may have been my reenactment of my reaction - but she was laughing so hard that she was crying, having trouble breathing, and falling out of her chair. So when I told this boy that I had nearly killed a coworker by sharing this story, do you know what he thought? He focused on the first part of the sentence, and really believed I had nearly killed someone in my office. I mean, a moose, ok. I can see where you get that - but a rabid moose? Come on. Don't I deserve better than that?
(p.s. My dad's pet name for my sister when we were little? "SweetPea". And what did he call me? "Moose Breath".
(p.p.s. I had already started writing this down when I read this today. I like it better. So glad I'm not the only one!)
Sunday, May 3, 2009
my brain talks to itself, but it doesn't listen very well
Example conversation of my brain talking to my brain:
Brain: "hmm. My lips feel chapped. My skin must be dry - the air must be dry in here, I'll get some lotion."
a few hours later:
Brain: "geez... I keep putting on the chapstick, but they still feel SO CHAPPED."
an hour later, while visiting the bathroom at work:
Brain: "What the hell??! Why are my lips all swollen and peeling looking? How did I not notice this before??"
Brain drifts back to some 4 days before... Discovering a bag that hadn't been used in quite some time:
Loud Voice in Brain: "Ah! I forget all about this chapstick! It's fancy Aveda chapstick, with built in SPF 15! Perfect for my day outdoors.
Small Voice in Brain: "wait... I almost remember something about this..."
Loud Voice in Brain: "Oh, and it feels so good! How did I forget about this!
Small Voice in Brain: "Was there a reason maybe I stopped using this..."
Loud Voice in Brain: "So creamy... and it smells so good! mmmm...."
Small Voice in Brain: "Like maybe an allergic reaction? Was I allergic to this?"
Loud Voice in Brain: "YUM! I will take you with me, and reapply you all day long!"
And back to the present while staring at swollen, pealing, freakish looking lips:
Brain: "Ah. Yes. Funny I didn't remember that earlier..."
I didn't throw it away. It's out there somewhere waiting to be rediscovered in a bag again... and I bet my brain will not remember it all over again, and again be delighted over the awesome discovery.
Brain: "hmm. My lips feel chapped. My skin must be dry - the air must be dry in here, I'll get some lotion."
a few hours later:
Brain: "geez... I keep putting on the chapstick, but they still feel SO CHAPPED."
an hour later, while visiting the bathroom at work:
Brain: "What the hell??! Why are my lips all swollen and peeling looking? How did I not notice this before??"
Brain drifts back to some 4 days before... Discovering a bag that hadn't been used in quite some time:
Loud Voice in Brain: "Ah! I forget all about this chapstick! It's fancy Aveda chapstick, with built in SPF 15! Perfect for my day outdoors.
Small Voice in Brain: "wait... I almost remember something about this..."
Loud Voice in Brain: "Oh, and it feels so good! How did I forget about this!
Small Voice in Brain: "Was there a reason maybe I stopped using this..."
Loud Voice in Brain: "So creamy... and it smells so good! mmmm...."
Small Voice in Brain: "Like maybe an allergic reaction? Was I allergic to this?"
Loud Voice in Brain: "YUM! I will take you with me, and reapply you all day long!"
And back to the present while staring at swollen, pealing, freakish looking lips:
Brain: "Ah. Yes. Funny I didn't remember that earlier..."
I didn't throw it away. It's out there somewhere waiting to be rediscovered in a bag again... and I bet my brain will not remember it all over again, and again be delighted over the awesome discovery.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
communications - 1 more
I knew I was forgetting something in the 2-year-old section of the last post, but I couldn't remember what it was, so I babbled about chocolate cake instead (always a good idea).
This was it:
me - "Good night! I'll see you in a few days at your birthday party!!!"
tot - "I tee-teed in your room."
My sister failed to mention that.
This was it:
me - "Good night! I'll see you in a few days at your birthday party!!!"
tot - "I tee-teed in your room."
My sister failed to mention that.
Monday, April 6, 2009
communications
recent work communications (in my own words):
work - Unfortunately, everyone (who's not being laid-off) will be receiving a pay-cut, and because of this percent decrease, you will be required to take 2 days off every 4 weeks.
me - WOOHOO!!! (immediately begin planning weekend road trips in head.)
work - you won't be able to choose your 2 days.
me - oh. and your chosen days don't help me out with my trips at all - oh well.
work - actually, now it's going to be the same percentage cut, but one day a month instead of 2 days every 4 weeks.
me - hmm. But I have 2 long weekends I need every month? hmm.
work - Ok, now you are still going have your paycut, and those days off, but now the days off will be unpaid time in addition to your paycut.
me - say what? (grab scrap paper, do some quick calculating, and become worried for the first time.) oh well.
recent 2-almost-3-year old communciations:
tot - Ju-Ju, your hair looks (sounds like "wiggely").
me - oh! (thinking: I have wiggely hair... sounds sassy! I like having wiggely hair! Watch out for me and my wiggely hair! ha!) Wiggely.
tot - no, not wiggely, WRINKELY.
me - oh. wrinkely. (thinking: yeah, not so hot.)
tot - Ju-Ju, you're too heavy!
does this really need any more explanation?
Bill Cosby once talked about his 6-year-old being able to magically see through his body to a chocolate cake behind him. I also witnessed this. So the next bit of conversation would go like this: "Can I have some of that chocolate cake!"
"Not till everyone finishes eating their dinner."
"Now can I have some of that chocolate cake? Now? NOW? NOW? Daddy are you done with your dinner? NOW can I have the chocolate cake? NOW is it time? (repeat for next 15 minutes.)
At the same dinner, she was able to take a look around the room, and point out the one thing my mom hadn't gotten cleaned out: her last bit of Christmas decor. In late March. "Look - BLUEBERRIES!" Or holly. Whatever. It was tucked way up in a corner on top of a china cabinet, but kids know how to spot exactly what you don't want them to.
We had an early birthday party for her (my niece) while she was here. Despite my best efforts to mold her into my image, she somehow got it into her head that she wanted a "ballerina birthday party." My mom signed me up for ballet when I was about 4. I remember being told to dance around in a circle pretending to be a flower or something, and even at 4, I thought this was stupid. I stuck it out to my recital but that was the end of my ballet career. (Which is unfortunate, considering my ballerina-like physique.) Anyway, she also wanted rollerskates for her birthday. And the result was quite entertaining. I was going to put some video here, but I'm having some computer machine difficulties, so I'll just refer you to flickr, if you wish to see a large 3-year-old rollerskating ballerina.
and a Sunday night conversation with Comcast customer service guy:
me - I ordered a movie, it stopped working, not it's asking me to buy it again, blahdy-blah-blah. I called an hour ago, they said they fixed it, it may take a few minutes, or it may take an hour, blah, blah.
guy - Well, they shouldn't have had you wait at all! Let's fix that right now.
At this point I feel much better, loosen up, and exchange a few jokes with guy.
guy - Now, what's the name of the movie you were watching?
me - uh. uh... (You see, I had intended to watch "Australia." Yeah, I know it's supposed to be bad, whatever. But then I saw that it was looong. And I was tired. So I looked over my options. I watched some previews. I considered some independent films. Some foreign ones. And somehow, I don't know how it happened, I ended up being forced to give this answer:)
me - it was called... um... "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. um. Part 2."
I mean, I could have ordered "Twilight", and while being just as juvenile, it would have felt so much less ridiculous to say out loud. But such is my life.
Hey - speaking of Hollywood, my friend Dolly is making her debut tomorrow night! If you happen to see The Mentalist, look for her in the background as "Officer Jenkins." Dolly was having fun in LA working as an extra while looking for a job. She's afraid people will find this out and think she has intentions of becoming a model/actress, so I of course would like to perpetuate this rumor. She loved her first job on this show (she ate donuts while all else networked), and soon had a second job as an extra on 90210 as a paparazzi. Which meant that I got a voicemail expressing how her feelings were hurt when they ran out of prom-goers, and some one suggested she could fill in, and some one else replied, "Nah! She's too old!"
I love you, Dolly! Although I would have loved you more had I been able to see you dancing in the 90210 prom.
work - Unfortunately, everyone (who's not being laid-off) will be receiving a pay-cut, and because of this percent decrease, you will be required to take 2 days off every 4 weeks.
me - WOOHOO!!! (immediately begin planning weekend road trips in head.)
work - you won't be able to choose your 2 days.
me - oh. and your chosen days don't help me out with my trips at all - oh well.
work - actually, now it's going to be the same percentage cut, but one day a month instead of 2 days every 4 weeks.
me - hmm. But I have 2 long weekends I need every month? hmm.
work - Ok, now you are still going have your paycut, and those days off, but now the days off will be unpaid time in addition to your paycut.
me - say what? (grab scrap paper, do some quick calculating, and become worried for the first time.) oh well.
recent 2-almost-3-year old communciations:
tot - Ju-Ju, your hair looks (sounds like "wiggely").
me - oh! (thinking: I have wiggely hair... sounds sassy! I like having wiggely hair! Watch out for me and my wiggely hair! ha!) Wiggely.
tot - no, not wiggely, WRINKELY.
me - oh. wrinkely. (thinking: yeah, not so hot.)
tot - Ju-Ju, you're too heavy!
does this really need any more explanation?
Bill Cosby once talked about his 6-year-old being able to magically see through his body to a chocolate cake behind him. I also witnessed this. So the next bit of conversation would go like this: "Can I have some of that chocolate cake!"
"Not till everyone finishes eating their dinner."
"Now can I have some of that chocolate cake? Now? NOW? NOW? Daddy are you done with your dinner? NOW can I have the chocolate cake? NOW is it time? (repeat for next 15 minutes.)
At the same dinner, she was able to take a look around the room, and point out the one thing my mom hadn't gotten cleaned out: her last bit of Christmas decor. In late March. "Look - BLUEBERRIES!" Or holly. Whatever. It was tucked way up in a corner on top of a china cabinet, but kids know how to spot exactly what you don't want them to.
We had an early birthday party for her (my niece) while she was here. Despite my best efforts to mold her into my image, she somehow got it into her head that she wanted a "ballerina birthday party." My mom signed me up for ballet when I was about 4. I remember being told to dance around in a circle pretending to be a flower or something, and even at 4, I thought this was stupid. I stuck it out to my recital but that was the end of my ballet career. (Which is unfortunate, considering my ballerina-like physique.) Anyway, she also wanted rollerskates for her birthday. And the result was quite entertaining. I was going to put some video here, but I'm having some computer machine difficulties, so I'll just refer you to flickr, if you wish to see a large 3-year-old rollerskating ballerina.
and a Sunday night conversation with Comcast customer service guy:
me - I ordered a movie, it stopped working, not it's asking me to buy it again, blahdy-blah-blah. I called an hour ago, they said they fixed it, it may take a few minutes, or it may take an hour, blah, blah.
guy - Well, they shouldn't have had you wait at all! Let's fix that right now.
At this point I feel much better, loosen up, and exchange a few jokes with guy.
guy - Now, what's the name of the movie you were watching?
me - uh. uh... (You see, I had intended to watch "Australia." Yeah, I know it's supposed to be bad, whatever. But then I saw that it was looong. And I was tired. So I looked over my options. I watched some previews. I considered some independent films. Some foreign ones. And somehow, I don't know how it happened, I ended up being forced to give this answer:)
me - it was called... um... "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. um. Part 2."
I mean, I could have ordered "Twilight", and while being just as juvenile, it would have felt so much less ridiculous to say out loud. But such is my life.
Hey - speaking of Hollywood, my friend Dolly is making her debut tomorrow night! If you happen to see The Mentalist, look for her in the background as "Officer Jenkins." Dolly was having fun in LA working as an extra while looking for a job. She's afraid people will find this out and think she has intentions of becoming a model/actress, so I of course would like to perpetuate this rumor. She loved her first job on this show (she ate donuts while all else networked), and soon had a second job as an extra on 90210 as a paparazzi. Which meant that I got a voicemail expressing how her feelings were hurt when they ran out of prom-goers, and some one suggested she could fill in, and some one else replied, "Nah! She's too old!"
I love you, Dolly! Although I would have loved you more had I been able to see you dancing in the 90210 prom.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
small tales, or, "there's really not a lot going on over here"
How a coworker got to know a little more about me this week:
(most of the folks I work with are permanent travelers, and work from home when they aren’t on the road. Which means they don’t get the privilege of seeing me in the office everyday, and knowing, say… how I eat.)
The setting: my apartment, 4:55 p.m. I had an afternoon dentist’s appointment which meant I got to work the rest of the day on my soda (yay!):
My personal cell phone (which I have been forced to forward my work calls to): ring ring!
Me: “Hello?”
Guy: “I’m sending you a bunch of emails with a bunch of work, blah, blah, blah. I just wanted to warn you they were coming, but don’t worry about it tonight, just call me first thing in the morning. Your mouth is probably all swollen, take the rest of the night off!”
(how does he know my mouth could be swollen? Because he had called me not long before as I was walking into the dentist’s office to get 2 fillings – even though I had just told him that I was about to be out of reach for that reason.)
Me: “Well, I won’t be taking the night off” (because I have 15 more just like you to work for), “but I’ll look it over and call you tomorrow.”
Guy: “Ok, go back to eating your salad now.”
Me: (thinking: oh – but I thought I was being so sneaky with my eating!) blabbing out loud: “uh…. I’m eating icecream.” (What was I supposed to do when he called, let it melt?!)
Guy: “Icecream?! Well I was way off… So, you came back from getting fillings, and started eating icecream?”
Me:” …uh…. yeah.”
So, you know how when you’re struggling to be on time to work in the morning and little things keep coming up to keep you from it? I had a different one this morning: I got stuck in a dress. You see, it’s suddenly spring-time warm, so I brought out a worky dress to wear I hadn’t put on since the fall. And I became completely trapped in it while trying to get it over my head.
Now, I know winter is the time to put on your extra padding to keep you warm or whatever, but this was ridiculous. My arms were stuck up by my ears, my dress all around my shoulders and chest. I couldn’t pull it down, and I couldn’t pull it back up over my head. And this went on for about 10 minutes. I mean, long enough that I had to start to wonder if I could get out of this mess by myself. It wasn’t helping that my more flexible arm, my left (I’ve heard we lose mobility in our right from repeated mouse use! I know I used to reach both behind my back equally, and now my right arm is woefully pathetic in reaching. Boo, work!) – anyway, my left has a bum finger from a kickball accident this weekend. It is purple, and refuses to completely straighten or curl, much less grip anything. And unfortunately, when I use other fingers, it hurts this one (the pointer finger – which it turns out you use quite a lot.) But the situation was desperate, so I was pulling and tugging and ow-ing all at once. Not very pretty. I started to wonder if I would have to call in sick to work (I couldn’t tell them that I was imprisoned by a piece of fabric. And if so, what lucky friend would I turn to ask to come over and cut this dress off of me? And most importantly of all, would my little trapped-by-my-ears arms allow me to put on pants before they got there?
And what kind of drastic action was this suggesting I take? I mean, I’m already in my second consecutive month of boot camp, what else can I do? Stop comfort eating? (I know – too drastic.)
After many sounds of ripping lining, I got it down and went to work – with visions of myself getting stuck once again trying to change out of it – only this time that would occur in the bathroom at work, where I change before boot camp. (Yes, I did think about what coworker I would call for help in an emergency.)
Update: I got the dress off no problem. I’m pretty sure I only had it half way unzipped the first time. I swear, I tried more unzipping in the morning with my little gimpy fingers, but I couldn’t get it to budge and assumed it was already all the way down.
Good one, Jenn.
(most of the folks I work with are permanent travelers, and work from home when they aren’t on the road. Which means they don’t get the privilege of seeing me in the office everyday, and knowing, say… how I eat.)
The setting: my apartment, 4:55 p.m. I had an afternoon dentist’s appointment which meant I got to work the rest of the day on my soda (yay!):
My personal cell phone (which I have been forced to forward my work calls to): ring ring!
Me: “Hello?”
Guy: “I’m sending you a bunch of emails with a bunch of work, blah, blah, blah. I just wanted to warn you they were coming, but don’t worry about it tonight, just call me first thing in the morning. Your mouth is probably all swollen, take the rest of the night off!”
(how does he know my mouth could be swollen? Because he had called me not long before as I was walking into the dentist’s office to get 2 fillings – even though I had just told him that I was about to be out of reach for that reason.)
Me: “Well, I won’t be taking the night off” (because I have 15 more just like you to work for), “but I’ll look it over and call you tomorrow.”
Guy: “Ok, go back to eating your salad now.”
Me: (thinking: oh – but I thought I was being so sneaky with my eating!) blabbing out loud: “uh…. I’m eating icecream.” (What was I supposed to do when he called, let it melt?!)
Guy: “Icecream?! Well I was way off… So, you came back from getting fillings, and started eating icecream?”
Me:” …uh…. yeah.”
So, you know how when you’re struggling to be on time to work in the morning and little things keep coming up to keep you from it? I had a different one this morning: I got stuck in a dress. You see, it’s suddenly spring-time warm, so I brought out a worky dress to wear I hadn’t put on since the fall. And I became completely trapped in it while trying to get it over my head.
Now, I know winter is the time to put on your extra padding to keep you warm or whatever, but this was ridiculous. My arms were stuck up by my ears, my dress all around my shoulders and chest. I couldn’t pull it down, and I couldn’t pull it back up over my head. And this went on for about 10 minutes. I mean, long enough that I had to start to wonder if I could get out of this mess by myself. It wasn’t helping that my more flexible arm, my left (I’ve heard we lose mobility in our right from repeated mouse use! I know I used to reach both behind my back equally, and now my right arm is woefully pathetic in reaching. Boo, work!) – anyway, my left has a bum finger from a kickball accident this weekend. It is purple, and refuses to completely straighten or curl, much less grip anything. And unfortunately, when I use other fingers, it hurts this one (the pointer finger – which it turns out you use quite a lot.) But the situation was desperate, so I was pulling and tugging and ow-ing all at once. Not very pretty. I started to wonder if I would have to call in sick to work (I couldn’t tell them that I was imprisoned by a piece of fabric. And if so, what lucky friend would I turn to ask to come over and cut this dress off of me? And most importantly of all, would my little trapped-by-my-ears arms allow me to put on pants before they got there?
And what kind of drastic action was this suggesting I take? I mean, I’m already in my second consecutive month of boot camp, what else can I do? Stop comfort eating? (I know – too drastic.)
After many sounds of ripping lining, I got it down and went to work – with visions of myself getting stuck once again trying to change out of it – only this time that would occur in the bathroom at work, where I change before boot camp. (Yes, I did think about what coworker I would call for help in an emergency.)
Update: I got the dress off no problem. I’m pretty sure I only had it half way unzipped the first time. I swear, I tried more unzipping in the morning with my little gimpy fingers, but I couldn’t get it to budge and assumed it was already all the way down.
Good one, Jenn.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Little things I've done this week at work just to survive the endless tedium
1) Thrown Dove dark chocolate candy wrappers over a co-workers cubicle wall, because they have such inspiring messages. Like, "Sleep under the stars tonight" or "A gentle touch speaks volumes". How can I not share these pearls of wisdom??
2) The simultaneous wink and finger-shoot at coworkers when passing them in the hall.
3) When coming back from the bathroom, instead of taking my key card out of my pocket to let myself back into the office, I turn so that my side with the key is facing the door, and jump. See how many jumps it takes before I get enough air to unlock the door from my pocket.
4) Eaten a large bag of m&m's.
5) Taken to responding sarcastically to emails that are not seeking a response. For instance: my boss is a former salesperson, and loves LOVES some man who speaks and writes books on salesmanship. So she regularly emails out to our division (including to those of us - like myself - who are not in sales) little bits of advice from his books. They always go something like this:
"When a contact tells you that they do not have time to talk to you, do you:
A) Demand to speak to their supervisor
B) Sit down and say that you'll wait until they do have time - no matter how long it takes.
C) Tell them you'll call again, and before you follow up next time, research how you can meet their needs.
D) Go home early."
And then it goes into this long-ass explanation of why the wrong ones are wrong and the right ones are right. The weirdest thing about that part is, I swear, they don't make it that obvious in the explanation which one they want you to pick. They might talk about why each one is kind of right, but I guess one is better than the others (kinda SAT style). And really, shouldn't they just have "C" written very clearly somewhere? If they want to convey their ideas successfully? Maybe this sales guy needs some written communication help (I know all of mine do.) Anyway, a lot of times I don't read these, but sometimes I do, just because I want to prove that they are as ridiculous as they seem, and that the answers are just common sense.
So, I haven't said anything to her about these yet, because, as I said, she loves this guy. But recently two of her own superiors played a little joke on her. Called her into an office, asked her a question, and read her A-D multiple choice answers, and laughed and laughed at their own joke. Naturally, she didn't get what was so funny. But I did - straight away. She thought that was "so quick" of me - but really it just means that I've thought about making fun of this many times before, whereas she never has.
So, to get back to it... I've started responding to her with my own answers. Like today, the question was on why networking is so important, and the answer was something about lasting relationships. But I wrote back and put "E) Because sometimes you get free drinks." Which isn't so much meant to be funny, as it is just true. For me at least. That would be my #1 reason. Because just the word "networking" gives me the heebie-jeebies. (I'm not really sure what a heebie-jeebie is, but if it exists, that's what hearing "networking" gives me.)
hm. That's all I can think of for now. I know this makes it sound like I have nothing better to do at work, but I swear, I'm overwhelmed to the point of frozenness. Sometimes a girl's gotta take a step back and share some candy wrappers, you know?
On a completely different note:
I think I shared last time about how undedicated I am to boot camp. We're supposed to write down everything we eat, follow their plan of eating 6 small healthy meals a day, and get that little food log checked every day. If you say, have a soft drink or a cookie - MORE BOOT CAMP FOR YOU!! You stay an extra 5 minutes for extra work at the end of the session. Well, I haven't brought in my book since week 1. Which means I get the extra work - which is fine, because if I had my book, I would be getting extra work plus diassproving looks and lectures on balancing your cabrs and proteins and not eating peanut butter, and blah, blah. Well, today it started raining at the end of camp, so I high-tailed it out of their to my car and skipped the extra stuff. And then who did I run into coming out of a Mellow Mushroom 10 minutes later, carrying a big box of pizza?? My boot camp instructor! How lucky am I?
And ok, so the box looked big, but there was only one slice in there! It wasn't like I was bring an entire pizza home to eat by myself (not that there's anything wrong with that, Gorilla.) And I had a salad, too! Which, uh... makes the pizza ok?
Oh, they're really going to use this tomorrow. (sigh.)
(Down at the bottom here you'll notice my "labels" for posts. One is called "odd people I work with". I created it when I worked at the lab, and since I wrote about work, I figure I should use it, since it's my only work label and all, right? But now the only odd person I work with is myself! The "odd people" is just me. I think I'm ok with that.)
2) The simultaneous wink and finger-shoot at coworkers when passing them in the hall.
3) When coming back from the bathroom, instead of taking my key card out of my pocket to let myself back into the office, I turn so that my side with the key is facing the door, and jump. See how many jumps it takes before I get enough air to unlock the door from my pocket.
4) Eaten a large bag of m&m's.
5) Taken to responding sarcastically to emails that are not seeking a response. For instance: my boss is a former salesperson, and loves LOVES some man who speaks and writes books on salesmanship. So she regularly emails out to our division (including to those of us - like myself - who are not in sales) little bits of advice from his books. They always go something like this:
"When a contact tells you that they do not have time to talk to you, do you:
A) Demand to speak to their supervisor
B) Sit down and say that you'll wait until they do have time - no matter how long it takes.
C) Tell them you'll call again, and before you follow up next time, research how you can meet their needs.
D) Go home early."
And then it goes into this long-ass explanation of why the wrong ones are wrong and the right ones are right. The weirdest thing about that part is, I swear, they don't make it that obvious in the explanation which one they want you to pick. They might talk about why each one is kind of right, but I guess one is better than the others (kinda SAT style). And really, shouldn't they just have "C" written very clearly somewhere? If they want to convey their ideas successfully? Maybe this sales guy needs some written communication help (I know all of mine do.) Anyway, a lot of times I don't read these, but sometimes I do, just because I want to prove that they are as ridiculous as they seem, and that the answers are just common sense.
So, I haven't said anything to her about these yet, because, as I said, she loves this guy. But recently two of her own superiors played a little joke on her. Called her into an office, asked her a question, and read her A-D multiple choice answers, and laughed and laughed at their own joke. Naturally, she didn't get what was so funny. But I did - straight away. She thought that was "so quick" of me - but really it just means that I've thought about making fun of this many times before, whereas she never has.
So, to get back to it... I've started responding to her with my own answers. Like today, the question was on why networking is so important, and the answer was something about lasting relationships. But I wrote back and put "E) Because sometimes you get free drinks." Which isn't so much meant to be funny, as it is just true. For me at least. That would be my #1 reason. Because just the word "networking" gives me the heebie-jeebies. (I'm not really sure what a heebie-jeebie is, but if it exists, that's what hearing "networking" gives me.)
hm. That's all I can think of for now. I know this makes it sound like I have nothing better to do at work, but I swear, I'm overwhelmed to the point of frozenness. Sometimes a girl's gotta take a step back and share some candy wrappers, you know?
On a completely different note:
I think I shared last time about how undedicated I am to boot camp. We're supposed to write down everything we eat, follow their plan of eating 6 small healthy meals a day, and get that little food log checked every day. If you say, have a soft drink or a cookie - MORE BOOT CAMP FOR YOU!! You stay an extra 5 minutes for extra work at the end of the session. Well, I haven't brought in my book since week 1. Which means I get the extra work - which is fine, because if I had my book, I would be getting extra work plus diassproving looks and lectures on balancing your cabrs and proteins and not eating peanut butter, and blah, blah. Well, today it started raining at the end of camp, so I high-tailed it out of their to my car and skipped the extra stuff. And then who did I run into coming out of a Mellow Mushroom 10 minutes later, carrying a big box of pizza?? My boot camp instructor! How lucky am I?
And ok, so the box looked big, but there was only one slice in there! It wasn't like I was bring an entire pizza home to eat by myself (not that there's anything wrong with that, Gorilla.) And I had a salad, too! Which, uh... makes the pizza ok?
Oh, they're really going to use this tomorrow. (sigh.)
(Down at the bottom here you'll notice my "labels" for posts. One is called "odd people I work with". I created it when I worked at the lab, and since I wrote about work, I figure I should use it, since it's my only work label and all, right? But now the only odd person I work with is myself! The "odd people" is just me. I think I'm ok with that.)
Sunday, February 22, 2009
I'm still alive
Just thought I'd drop in and say that I haven't given up on this blog yet, despite the sparse writing habits. I still have the same old excuses, work takes up too much time and makes my typing limbs hurt, blah, blah. Not to mention gives me less time to come up with other things to write about, blahdidy-blah.
In fact, tonight I'm supposed to be working. Right now. Like, for the last 3 hours into the wee hours was the plan. But I haven't started! And I'm just going to get more tired and rebellious. And then tomorrow I'll look at it all and get overwhelmed and start planning what I'll do that night, which also won't happen. It's my own happy work cycle!
Anyway, so I have the Oscars on right now. These are my thoughts thus far:
1) Marisa Tomei + Ryan Seacrest = very awkward combination. Maybe Marisa doesn't think too highly of Ryan. I can't imagine why.
2) When Jennifer Anniston and Jack Black came out to present together, the camera only flashed to the audience twice. Can you guess to whom? hmm? Right in the front row were Brad and Angelina. So once, straight from Jennifer to close up of Angelina Jolie. Was she talking about anything at all that might have to do with Miss Jolie? Animated films - I don't think so. And then once again at the end to the couple, showing them smiling up at the stage. Really, media? Is that necessary? Could you pretend to have a little more class? No, no I guess you can't.
And since we are on the subject of Oscars, I saw all 5 of the best picture nominees this year - that may be a first ever. (And you can see this over on the side there! No, I don't have time to write, but I do have time to see movies and then list them. It's very important.) For the past 2 years I've gotten all geared up come Oscar time. I don't know what started this, but one of the objects of the Oscar frenzy is to see the short films. I did this a few years ago for the first time, and really enjoyed it. Right before the Oscars one theater here plays all the animated on one ticket, and all the live action shorts on another. For some reason, I have a hard time finding anyone else that wants to see them. And for the animated this year I kind of understood why - but the live action I really enjoyed. So, I guess the point is, uh, you should do that, too. yeah. (My pick for animated didn't win. hmph.)
Anyway, last year I had an excuse for this. I had an Oscar party. And I wanted to win my own "pick the most winners right" contest (and I believe I did). But this year I really have no excuse for my time spent watching movies. No party, thank you work. (Ok, really I wouldn't have it anyway because I am still getting settled in my new apartment. As I said recently to a friend when I asked what I was doing: "Unpacking." "Why are you unpacking?!" "you know, my apartment." "You mean the one you moved into 2 months ago." Shut up, productive people. You get on my nerves.
Speaking of procrastination: I worked on 2 of my Christmas presents today. It's a bad sign of aging that I fear technology so much that I put this off till now. I: 1) setting up the wii. (Still haven't finished that one - had a movie to get to. But I'm sure as soon as I do that Wii Fit will whip me into shape! yea.) 2) I now have a working web cam. I was peering at it wondering how to get it to work, when suddenly it told me I had taken a quick shot of myself, and there I was, with a view down my shirt. Excellent. But I video chatted with my sister and niece, and my niece showed me her ballet shoes and put her arms over her head and spun around and lost her balance and fell down and it was totally worth it.
Oh! My other non-interesting thing that happened this week has to do with boot camp. I think I wrote about this last year. I signed up for boot camp, and it was good. There was a bring a friend day that gave you a second month free, and I recruited, and I got 7 friends there, and I won that thing. And we went out and celebrated with cheese dip and margaritas, just like we weren't supposed to do. Well, I tried it again this year. It was a real good pick me up for my days last year, but I haven't quite taken to it so well this time. I don't know if it's the change in the instructors, or a change in myself, but I don't feel that I'm getting much out of it. And because I live and work much further away from it than I used to, it seems to take up a lot of time. Also, I don't even try to follow the diet plan. Maybe that's why I don't feel better. No balanced nutritious eating habits. I don't even bring my food log. And they say, in their cheer-leader voices, "Ok, but that means you have punishment at the end of class!" And I say, "that's fine. I would have had it anyway." And I do the extra work, and then I drive myself out for pizza. Because I'm drained from work and it's too late to cook. And so I guess I continue to get fatter, but also more muscly at the same time! yay?
So, this Thursday was bring a friend day and something awful happened! I won!!! And I so SO wasn't trying to. But suddenly that afternoon I realized I had 4 friends coming (that I had NOT tried to recruit) and for the first time I had the thought, "My gosh. I hope I don't win." Next thing I know the instructors are clapping for me and congratulating me on my great prize. What do I do?? Say, "no thank you. I choose fat and lazy." What do you think?
Ok, work needed. Sorry to bore you with the details of my week. Now you see why I haven't written more!
Embarrassing story from the vaults will have to come soon to make up for all this tedium.
In fact, tonight I'm supposed to be working. Right now. Like, for the last 3 hours into the wee hours was the plan. But I haven't started! And I'm just going to get more tired and rebellious. And then tomorrow I'll look at it all and get overwhelmed and start planning what I'll do that night, which also won't happen. It's my own happy work cycle!
Anyway, so I have the Oscars on right now. These are my thoughts thus far:
1) Marisa Tomei + Ryan Seacrest = very awkward combination. Maybe Marisa doesn't think too highly of Ryan. I can't imagine why.
2) When Jennifer Anniston and Jack Black came out to present together, the camera only flashed to the audience twice. Can you guess to whom? hmm? Right in the front row were Brad and Angelina. So once, straight from Jennifer to close up of Angelina Jolie. Was she talking about anything at all that might have to do with Miss Jolie? Animated films - I don't think so. And then once again at the end to the couple, showing them smiling up at the stage. Really, media? Is that necessary? Could you pretend to have a little more class? No, no I guess you can't.
And since we are on the subject of Oscars, I saw all 5 of the best picture nominees this year - that may be a first ever. (And you can see this over on the side there! No, I don't have time to write, but I do have time to see movies and then list them. It's very important.) For the past 2 years I've gotten all geared up come Oscar time. I don't know what started this, but one of the objects of the Oscar frenzy is to see the short films. I did this a few years ago for the first time, and really enjoyed it. Right before the Oscars one theater here plays all the animated on one ticket, and all the live action shorts on another. For some reason, I have a hard time finding anyone else that wants to see them. And for the animated this year I kind of understood why - but the live action I really enjoyed. So, I guess the point is, uh, you should do that, too. yeah. (My pick for animated didn't win. hmph.)
Anyway, last year I had an excuse for this. I had an Oscar party. And I wanted to win my own "pick the most winners right" contest (and I believe I did). But this year I really have no excuse for my time spent watching movies. No party, thank you work. (Ok, really I wouldn't have it anyway because I am still getting settled in my new apartment. As I said recently to a friend when I asked what I was doing: "Unpacking." "Why are you unpacking?!" "you know, my apartment." "You mean the one you moved into 2 months ago." Shut up, productive people. You get on my nerves.
Speaking of procrastination: I worked on 2 of my Christmas presents today. It's a bad sign of aging that I fear technology so much that I put this off till now. I: 1) setting up the wii. (Still haven't finished that one - had a movie to get to. But I'm sure as soon as I do that Wii Fit will whip me into shape! yea.) 2) I now have a working web cam. I was peering at it wondering how to get it to work, when suddenly it told me I had taken a quick shot of myself, and there I was, with a view down my shirt. Excellent. But I video chatted with my sister and niece, and my niece showed me her ballet shoes and put her arms over her head and spun around and lost her balance and fell down and it was totally worth it.
Oh! My other non-interesting thing that happened this week has to do with boot camp. I think I wrote about this last year. I signed up for boot camp, and it was good. There was a bring a friend day that gave you a second month free, and I recruited, and I got 7 friends there, and I won that thing. And we went out and celebrated with cheese dip and margaritas, just like we weren't supposed to do. Well, I tried it again this year. It was a real good pick me up for my days last year, but I haven't quite taken to it so well this time. I don't know if it's the change in the instructors, or a change in myself, but I don't feel that I'm getting much out of it. And because I live and work much further away from it than I used to, it seems to take up a lot of time. Also, I don't even try to follow the diet plan. Maybe that's why I don't feel better. No balanced nutritious eating habits. I don't even bring my food log. And they say, in their cheer-leader voices, "Ok, but that means you have punishment at the end of class!" And I say, "that's fine. I would have had it anyway." And I do the extra work, and then I drive myself out for pizza. Because I'm drained from work and it's too late to cook. And so I guess I continue to get fatter, but also more muscly at the same time! yay?
So, this Thursday was bring a friend day and something awful happened! I won!!! And I so SO wasn't trying to. But suddenly that afternoon I realized I had 4 friends coming (that I had NOT tried to recruit) and for the first time I had the thought, "My gosh. I hope I don't win." Next thing I know the instructors are clapping for me and congratulating me on my great prize. What do I do?? Say, "no thank you. I choose fat and lazy." What do you think?
Ok, work needed. Sorry to bore you with the details of my week. Now you see why I haven't written more!
Embarrassing story from the vaults will have to come soon to make up for all this tedium.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
25 Things - a first time ever participation
I got tagged to write "25 Things About Myself" the other day on Facebook by two of my friends (at the same time when everyone else on facebook was also tagged with this.) I told one of them that I would write mine for her, but that I would not put it on Facebook (see #7), but send it to her in an email instead. And I did. And then I thought, as long as I have this, I'll use it as a blog entry. Because I'm tired and it's already done. And a lot less people see my blog than see Facebook. (A lot.)
So here you go - 25 Random Things About Myself. Prepare to be thrilled. (And I don't know how to tag people with this - but hey Blay! I tag you!)
1. I have a lot of nicknames. Sometimes when I’m asked my name, I have to think about it before I answer. The answer might differ based on who I’m with.
2. I’m a great sleeper. I can sleep hard just about anywhere.
3. I didn’t kiss a boy until I was in college.
4. I can’t wear the color yellow.
5. I was fiercely attached to a security blanket as a kid. I still have it.
6. I have a blog. I don’t like to admit it.
7. I value my privacy. (Which is somewhat at odds with #7.)
8. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.
9. Someone who’s known me for a long time recently told her grandchild that I was really a kid in a big person’s body. I guess she’s kind of right.
10. I love photos. Always have.
11. I have an intense fear of aging. Since I was about 17.
12. I’m still close to most of my friends from middle and high school. They are some of the smartest and most creative people I’ve ever known.
13. I remember being thrilled when, at age 6 or 7, my freckles started coming in, because I wanted to be just like the older girl across the street. Freckles and pigtails and all.
14. I have eyeglasses that I seldom wear. When I got them in college and looked in a mirror, I was shocked by all my freckles. I had thought that they had faded, and that I had a slight tan.
15. I fall down a lot. “Hey Jenn, watch out for banana peels” was a common joke on my adult soccer team.
16. I’m beautiful. And modest. (Read: I have a hard time talking/writing seriously about myself.)
17. There are a lot of really horrible pictures out there of me. One of my closest friends hoards them in a file, just in case she ever feels like blackmailing me. More than once I’ve been told that I’m photogenic. Those people have obviously only seen a small selection of photos.
18. I shake when I’m really nervous.
19. Sometime over the last 3 years, I went from being a nearly-never crier to a way-too-easy-crier.
20. Drivers who don’t signal when they turn or change lanes are a pet-peeve.
21. People who say they don’t like quiet people, or use, “but he/she’s kind of quiet” in a sentence to denote definite negativity get me all riled up. I like the quiet ones (you attention-seeking loud-mouths).
22. I have to turn out all the lights when I leave.
23. I’m way too good at sucking up large amounts of time while accomplishing very little.
24. I will always stop at a lemonade stand. Not for any super love of lemonade.
25. If I could grant myself one natural talent, it would be to be able to sing. Really really well.
So here you go - 25 Random Things About Myself. Prepare to be thrilled. (And I don't know how to tag people with this - but hey Blay! I tag you!)
1. I have a lot of nicknames. Sometimes when I’m asked my name, I have to think about it before I answer. The answer might differ based on who I’m with.
2. I’m a great sleeper. I can sleep hard just about anywhere.
3. I didn’t kiss a boy until I was in college.
4. I can’t wear the color yellow.
5. I was fiercely attached to a security blanket as a kid. I still have it.
6. I have a blog. I don’t like to admit it.
7. I value my privacy. (Which is somewhat at odds with #7.)
8. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.
9. Someone who’s known me for a long time recently told her grandchild that I was really a kid in a big person’s body. I guess she’s kind of right.
10. I love photos. Always have.
11. I have an intense fear of aging. Since I was about 17.
12. I’m still close to most of my friends from middle and high school. They are some of the smartest and most creative people I’ve ever known.
13. I remember being thrilled when, at age 6 or 7, my freckles started coming in, because I wanted to be just like the older girl across the street. Freckles and pigtails and all.
14. I have eyeglasses that I seldom wear. When I got them in college and looked in a mirror, I was shocked by all my freckles. I had thought that they had faded, and that I had a slight tan.
15. I fall down a lot. “Hey Jenn, watch out for banana peels” was a common joke on my adult soccer team.
16. I’m beautiful. And modest. (Read: I have a hard time talking/writing seriously about myself.)
17. There are a lot of really horrible pictures out there of me. One of my closest friends hoards them in a file, just in case she ever feels like blackmailing me. More than once I’ve been told that I’m photogenic. Those people have obviously only seen a small selection of photos.
18. I shake when I’m really nervous.
19. Sometime over the last 3 years, I went from being a nearly-never crier to a way-too-easy-crier.
20. Drivers who don’t signal when they turn or change lanes are a pet-peeve.
21. People who say they don’t like quiet people, or use, “but he/she’s kind of quiet” in a sentence to denote definite negativity get me all riled up. I like the quiet ones (you attention-seeking loud-mouths).
22. I have to turn out all the lights when I leave.
23. I’m way too good at sucking up large amounts of time while accomplishing very little.
24. I will always stop at a lemonade stand. Not for any super love of lemonade.
25. If I could grant myself one natural talent, it would be to be able to sing. Really really well.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Wherein I give them a reason to fire me just for the sake of conveying two totally random meaningless thoughts
I broke a rule of mine and wrote what's below while at work today. Because that's the best time to vent/procrastinate/ramble - when one is at work. And not afterwards when one is weary/trying to have a life. But instead of emailing it into blogger, I emailed it to myself - because they may be able to see that I'm emailing, but at least they won't have my blog address. (Because as I've complained about before, all email is blocked!! It leaves me feeling very isolated. And I am no longer near friends that I can lunch with, either! Not that I ever leave my little beige corner for lunch anyway... see how I need to reach the outside world?) Anyway, they seem to be very against emailing, my company. But hey, it's not like we're in the middle of lay-offs or anything! oh wait...
The most satisfying thing I've said at work so far today (to someone way above me):
Dragon Lady: "What's wrong? You're not rockin' and rollin' on this one?"
Me: "No. And I'm not living in the '80s either."
Because there are only so many times I can hear the phrase "rockin' & rollin'" in a serious sense during a business meeting, before I bubble up and overflow, you know? Wouldn't you?
And in the last post, I left out one of my memorable Mona moments from New Year's.
Mona has spent three years living in a small Alaskan village. With like, 300 people maybe? Where the only adult single men there are in their early twenties (we are now in the early thirties phase – but I try not to think about that), and most of them are clients of hers (she's a social worker), and well, they just weren't real ideal candidates for a man-lover for Mona, you know? I mean, a pompous alcoholic woman-abusing 22 year old may be ok for a rainy day, but – or actually, not ok for a rainy day. That's what I keep telling Mona. And not a lot of new blood wonders into her town, so one of my jobs as her friend was to let her feast her eyes on some men-folk. That's right, we've lowered our standards – we were just asking to see some boys.
Oh, and I should also mention that Mona likes boys. She really likes them. A lot. And she has been very deprived. 3 years deprived. Sometime I might tell you about how she stalked a pizza man when we were in high school, just to give you an idea of her longing for boys.
So I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised to find her so willing to go watch me playing in a co-rec indoor soccer game. And this is where I had my other favorite memorable Mona moment:
Seeing her walk up to me after the game, and with eyes wide, and face full of excitement say:
"When you pinned that guy up against the wall??! That was AWESOME."
And I could tell she really meant it, too.
And in my defense, I'd like to say that I never push in soccer. I am a lady! Unless you push me first, and then watch out bitch, because I will come after you. I have some weight that I am not afraid to throw around. This indoor league had some pretty feisty ladies – ladies with elbows of steel they liked to throw in my face/chest/ribs, and this does not make me happy. Actually, it makes me play better. Because then I get a little fired up. But I digress… the men will push a girl, too. Especially if you've taken the ball away from them before, heaven forbid. After that, they'll pretty much hold you at arm's length and not let you get near them (stupid boys). But in the case with the pinning against the wall, I broke my own rule. This poor guy did nothing to me. But there were no subs, and I was SO TIRED. And he looked quick. And I knew my only way to win the ball was to cheat. And you know what? The poor guy didn't even push back. He seemed too stunned.
At least Mona enjoyed it. I'm glad I could do this for you as your friend, Mona.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Oh Mitch, it's been so long, so very very long!
It's been so long since I've updated that it feels unnatural to be doing so. And I have a feeling the longer I go the harder it will get, so I'm going to force something out before I fall asleep here. (Attention-grabbing intro, no?)
I blame this on a combination of factors - the holidays, in-town guests (related to the holidays), and just being really tired. And not just generally tired, but also tired of the computer by the time I get home from work. My eyes, fingers, and wrists hurt from it. This week it's just been an intense desire to be asleep. There were a couple of nights I was about to update, and then I was seduced by sleep - sleep is a smoothie, that one. In fact, it's hard for me to believe I'm up right now.
So I'll have something I'm going to write about, and then I'm too tired, or busy, and then tired again, and before you know it I've forgotten it. Or remember a little but not enough to know why I wanted to write it down.
So let's see what I do remember, ok?
Last time I wrote I was whining about how I might be getting sick, and you know what, I was right! I had some kind of throat infection and a nice high fever, which made me oh so pleasant to be around when my brother and sister-in-law arrived for Christmas. Just when I was turning the corner, my sister came in with her germ-carrying daughter - the one that gives me a stomach virus with almost every holiday. And guess what? She walked in the door that night, that night when my fever finally broke, covered in vomit. But praises be, we all survived without spending 24 to 48 hours puking! Yay! It was a Christmas miracle.
Here's what I remember about my niece over Christmas:
She's getting older. She looked bigger, as always, but what struck me the most was that she gave bigger looks. I mean, she had more facial expressions. Not just the simple baby ones anymore: sad, happy, surprised, angry, staring blankly - those are old hand. Now she had: devious, sweet, bossy (ok, bossy came early to her), annoyed, exasperated, crafty, sassy, flirtatious. Crazy. And her vocabulary - that had grown, too. Oh, and her imagination!
Let me give you a little example: My niece is not big on sharing. She thinks everything is hers. So I imagine she has been getting some talks on the importance of the sharing. Well, I go over to see the family one night, and she's playing on the kitchen floor, and my mom says, "Sara Beth, tell Ju-Ju (that would be me) what you did with her stocking today."
(We each had a Christmas stocking. Mine had a some hershey kisses, a chapstick, and a shoe-shine kit in it. Can you guess which one my dad picked out?)
And this kid, this kid who is not even 3 years old, she knew she had to answer this carefully! And this is how she did so: She smiled at me and did a little fluttery laugh, looked down, looked back up again, cocked her head to one side, and I swear, she batted her eyelashes, and then she said in the sweetest voice possible: "I sharing."
In other words, the kid had been nabbing my candy. And had already figured out how to put a spin on it, and look cute while doing so.
As you can see from the photo, she was no candy-nabbing novice. Here she's using a knife (what? 2 year olds can totally be trusted with a knife) to pry m&m's off of some chocolate frosting.)
As far as an example on the imagination... One night out of no where she started trying to prevent people from walking by her. She would spread out her feet and arms and stick her little body in front of the big ones, and declare "no no no no!" and as we tried to move aside, she would scuffle her little self back into position to head you off again (she was surprising quick.) After being around this for several minutes, and brushing her aside and not really even glancing at her like everyone else was doing, I knelt down and said, "What's wrong? Do you not want us to go upstairs?" And she shook her head very seriously. So I asked why not, and she turned around and took a look back toward the stairs, looked back at me, and with huge eyes, pointed toward the stairs and whispered, "A LION!" Yes, there was a lion at my parents house. So I explained to her that I had a lion catching net, and that we could creep very quietly upstairs together, and you know what? It worked. No more yelling no and trying to impede my progress. And I got to pretend I was on a lion hunt. Definitely more fun.
As for what I remember about New Year's: Mona came!!!! And that was great! Mona lives in Alaska, so when she called me on the 30th, and said she'd like to fly in the next day and stay for a week, I considered that quite a treat. In fact, I am trying to figure out how to get her to move here. You know those friends you've known long and well enough that you know they'll always tell it to you like it is? Mona's one of those. Take for instance this conversation we had New Year's Eve:
me, trying on clothes (which were Veronica's - because she TRICKED us into going to a party that was dressier than we had been led to believe!!): "How does this look?"
Mona: "You look like a whore who found some nice shoes."
me, in different dress: "What about this?"
Mona, considering, "...it's fine..."
me: "Do I look like I'm going to work?"
Mona: "If you're one of those slutty people at work you do."
See how I need her? And who else would agree that we must go rent The Big Easy at midnight on a Tuesday night with me? (margaritas) And not care that I fall asleep within the first 2 minutes? (margaritas)
As for more recent happenings, here's one:
Last Friday was a bad, bad day. It started with many many lay-offs at work. And I found out that more would be coming in 90 days, and that my job would likely be one of them, and that there will be no severance pay, and that insurance ends that day. yay. And have I mentioned that I just moved into a more expensive apartment? yay again. And really, seeing that many people lose their jobs was just emotionally and physically draining. At least I felt completely drained by the time I got home. Which is how I explain what happened next: I was starting down some hardwood stairs in my trusty old Strawberry Shortcake slippers (what?) when I guess I slipped (I've worn those things out - who could blame me?) and I fell all the way down the stairs. I remember trying really hard to stop myself, and I couldn't. Shouldn't that not be that hard? I also remember wondering if I was going to die alone at the bottom of these stairs, out of clumsiness. Did anyone see the 30 Rock where Liz agrees to go out on a blind date after Jack tells her that he though her worst fear would be choking to death alone at home? And then she almost does and has to Heimlich herself against her kitchen counter? Kind of like that. Except I wasn't even close to dieing. But that shit hurt. A lot.
So, the next morning I fly out to meet my most wonderful friends who sponsored a birthday trip for me (yay, friends!) and by the time I got there, I realized I had a pretty impressive bruise coming in. So what did I do? I made sure that everyone there that weekend got a good look at my ass. Because if I have to fall down stairs out of pure clumsiness, at least I should get to show off my wounds. (Which reminds me, my sister-in-law, who's in medical school, thinks that I need a check-up and some vitamin level tests, because such bruising did not seem normal to her. I think that it's more likely that I just weigh a whole, whole lot, and therefore the force of my fall was more than she could imagine. That's always good to find out.)
So, that's all well and good, but here's where I messed up: A couple of nights ago I went for a run, and quickly discovered that that really hurts a large butt bruise. So after getting it all stirred up, I thought it would be a good idea to take a hot bath. Just let it soak in that hot water for a while.
Know what this did? This created swelling. That was 2 nights ago, and the swelling was still continuing today. What I now have is a butt that is sticking out more on the left side than the right side. As if being pear-shaped weren't bad enough, I am now a lopsided pear. Seriously, I even had someone at work notice it.
The moral is, I am clumsy and dumb. Learn from my mistakes. Don't grow a huge left butt.
I blame this on a combination of factors - the holidays, in-town guests (related to the holidays), and just being really tired. And not just generally tired, but also tired of the computer by the time I get home from work. My eyes, fingers, and wrists hurt from it. This week it's just been an intense desire to be asleep. There were a couple of nights I was about to update, and then I was seduced by sleep - sleep is a smoothie, that one. In fact, it's hard for me to believe I'm up right now.
So I'll have something I'm going to write about, and then I'm too tired, or busy, and then tired again, and before you know it I've forgotten it. Or remember a little but not enough to know why I wanted to write it down.
So let's see what I do remember, ok?
Last time I wrote I was whining about how I might be getting sick, and you know what, I was right! I had some kind of throat infection and a nice high fever, which made me oh so pleasant to be around when my brother and sister-in-law arrived for Christmas. Just when I was turning the corner, my sister came in with her germ-carrying daughter - the one that gives me a stomach virus with almost every holiday. And guess what? She walked in the door that night, that night when my fever finally broke, covered in vomit. But praises be, we all survived without spending 24 to 48 hours puking! Yay! It was a Christmas miracle.
Here's what I remember about my niece over Christmas:
She's getting older. She looked bigger, as always, but what struck me the most was that she gave bigger looks. I mean, she had more facial expressions. Not just the simple baby ones anymore: sad, happy, surprised, angry, staring blankly - those are old hand. Now she had: devious, sweet, bossy (ok, bossy came early to her), annoyed, exasperated, crafty, sassy, flirtatious. Crazy. And her vocabulary - that had grown, too. Oh, and her imagination!
Let me give you a little example: My niece is not big on sharing. She thinks everything is hers. So I imagine she has been getting some talks on the importance of the sharing. Well, I go over to see the family one night, and she's playing on the kitchen floor, and my mom says, "Sara Beth, tell Ju-Ju (that would be me) what you did with her stocking today."
(We each had a Christmas stocking. Mine had a some hershey kisses, a chapstick, and a shoe-shine kit in it. Can you guess which one my dad picked out?)
And this kid, this kid who is not even 3 years old, she knew she had to answer this carefully! And this is how she did so: She smiled at me and did a little fluttery laugh, looked down, looked back up again, cocked her head to one side, and I swear, she batted her eyelashes, and then she said in the sweetest voice possible: "I sharing."
In other words, the kid had been nabbing my candy. And had already figured out how to put a spin on it, and look cute while doing so.
As you can see from the photo, she was no candy-nabbing novice. Here she's using a knife (what? 2 year olds can totally be trusted with a knife) to pry m&m's off of some chocolate frosting.)
As far as an example on the imagination... One night out of no where she started trying to prevent people from walking by her. She would spread out her feet and arms and stick her little body in front of the big ones, and declare "no no no no!" and as we tried to move aside, she would scuffle her little self back into position to head you off again (she was surprising quick.) After being around this for several minutes, and brushing her aside and not really even glancing at her like everyone else was doing, I knelt down and said, "What's wrong? Do you not want us to go upstairs?" And she shook her head very seriously. So I asked why not, and she turned around and took a look back toward the stairs, looked back at me, and with huge eyes, pointed toward the stairs and whispered, "A LION!" Yes, there was a lion at my parents house. So I explained to her that I had a lion catching net, and that we could creep very quietly upstairs together, and you know what? It worked. No more yelling no and trying to impede my progress. And I got to pretend I was on a lion hunt. Definitely more fun.
As for what I remember about New Year's: Mona came!!!! And that was great! Mona lives in Alaska, so when she called me on the 30th, and said she'd like to fly in the next day and stay for a week, I considered that quite a treat. In fact, I am trying to figure out how to get her to move here. You know those friends you've known long and well enough that you know they'll always tell it to you like it is? Mona's one of those. Take for instance this conversation we had New Year's Eve:
me, trying on clothes (which were Veronica's - because she TRICKED us into going to a party that was dressier than we had been led to believe!!): "How does this look?"
Mona: "You look like a whore who found some nice shoes."
me, in different dress: "What about this?"
Mona, considering, "...it's fine..."
me: "Do I look like I'm going to work?"
Mona: "If you're one of those slutty people at work you do."
See how I need her? And who else would agree that we must go rent The Big Easy at midnight on a Tuesday night with me? (margaritas) And not care that I fall asleep within the first 2 minutes? (margaritas)
As for more recent happenings, here's one:
Last Friday was a bad, bad day. It started with many many lay-offs at work. And I found out that more would be coming in 90 days, and that my job would likely be one of them, and that there will be no severance pay, and that insurance ends that day. yay. And have I mentioned that I just moved into a more expensive apartment? yay again. And really, seeing that many people lose their jobs was just emotionally and physically draining. At least I felt completely drained by the time I got home. Which is how I explain what happened next: I was starting down some hardwood stairs in my trusty old Strawberry Shortcake slippers (what?) when I guess I slipped (I've worn those things out - who could blame me?) and I fell all the way down the stairs. I remember trying really hard to stop myself, and I couldn't. Shouldn't that not be that hard? I also remember wondering if I was going to die alone at the bottom of these stairs, out of clumsiness. Did anyone see the 30 Rock where Liz agrees to go out on a blind date after Jack tells her that he though her worst fear would be choking to death alone at home? And then she almost does and has to Heimlich herself against her kitchen counter? Kind of like that. Except I wasn't even close to dieing. But that shit hurt. A lot.
So, the next morning I fly out to meet my most wonderful friends who sponsored a birthday trip for me (yay, friends!) and by the time I got there, I realized I had a pretty impressive bruise coming in. So what did I do? I made sure that everyone there that weekend got a good look at my ass. Because if I have to fall down stairs out of pure clumsiness, at least I should get to show off my wounds. (Which reminds me, my sister-in-law, who's in medical school, thinks that I need a check-up and some vitamin level tests, because such bruising did not seem normal to her. I think that it's more likely that I just weigh a whole, whole lot, and therefore the force of my fall was more than she could imagine. That's always good to find out.)
So, that's all well and good, but here's where I messed up: A couple of nights ago I went for a run, and quickly discovered that that really hurts a large butt bruise. So after getting it all stirred up, I thought it would be a good idea to take a hot bath. Just let it soak in that hot water for a while.
Know what this did? This created swelling. That was 2 nights ago, and the swelling was still continuing today. What I now have is a butt that is sticking out more on the left side than the right side. As if being pear-shaped weren't bad enough, I am now a lopsided pear. Seriously, I even had someone at work notice it.
The moral is, I am clumsy and dumb. Learn from my mistakes. Don't grow a huge left butt.
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