Thursday, February 24, 2005


...Because you will probably hit the internet before any of us can call you.

...and you are like, totally mid-twenties now. Haha!

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

I Told You It Would Be Random

Rather than inflict a haiku upon you, I took a picture. Which required some ninja moves in order to not be noticed, if I do say so myself. I really didn't want to try to explain myself and my noisy digital camera to an office full of busy-bodies on this one.

It was a flower that Carl snuck into my lunchbox on V-Day. The paper clips on the bottom are probably all rusty now because I put some water in there.

This is my Pink Sweater

Behold, for it is pink!

Behold, for I look really pissed...

Micro-Elf, Plotting

Probably caught sight of some boobies...Notice the gleam of the light off his saliva-drenched knuckles...

Monday, February 21, 2005


Currently frustrated because the thingy I use to post pics (Hello) does not want to work. I can't sign in to it, because "UI failed to initialize." Do I care what Hello does with its UI?? NO! Sounds like a personal problem to me! What does some free software's UI have to do with me showing you all pictures of random crap?? NOTHING!! I WANT TO SHOW YOU RANDOM CRAP!!! WHAT'S A UI????

I updated, uninstalled, reinstalled, chanted a voodoo ritual; nothing works. And I am le sad about it. Because the crap I have to show you all...boy, it sure is random.


Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Work Crazies

*general office chatter, something about Real World*

Me: (ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring ignoring)

Crazy Co-Worker #1: (very interested) Wait! What show are you talking about??

Crazy Co-Worker #2: Real World. Did you see it last night?

Crazy Co-Worker #1: Oh. No, I don't have a TV. I don't get that luxury.

Me: (then why the fuck were you asking about a TV show you crazy freak you just like the way your mouth feels when it's talking freak freak freak)

Later, as we all sit and do our work quietly:

Crazy Co-Worker #1: Have all the districts been logged for yesterday?

Me: Sara's working on them. I don't know how far she's gotten. (*indicates Sara, who sits at the desk not six feet in front of me with a pile of logs in her lap*)

Crazy Co-Worker #1: Well, which ones are done?

Me: I don't know. Sara might know. (*indicates Sara again*)

Crazy Co-Worker #1: You know what we should do? (*pause*)

Me: What's that?

Crazy Co-Worker #1: We should make up some sort of check-off list so that everyone can tell which districts are logged for which days. That way we'd all know.

Me: Or, you could just ask Sara.

Crazy Co-Worker #1: (*finally glances in Sara's direction*) Hmm...Do we have Excel on these computers? I want to make a check-off list.

Me: (*ignoring you ignoring you ignoring you ignoring you ignoring you ignoring you*)

Crazy Co-Worker #1: (*wandering away*) That way we'd all know...

Monday, February 14, 2005


Unlike my usual can of whup-ass that I open around noon-thirty, I decided to try out one of those soup-at-hand jobbies that Campbells puts out. I have actually tried them before, and been underwhelmed, but I am running out of ideas for the lunches that I have been ever-so-industriously packing for myself every morning. As I contemplated these little microwaveable soup sippy-cups at the store, I recalled my last experience with said product. I remembered slurping down a big mouthfull of lumpy Cream of Broccoli during the ten minute break of a night class, and then almost hurling it back up on my professor's shoes, as it was the raunchiest thing I had ever swallowed.

(and I've swallowed some raunchy stuff har har shut up.)

Anyway, I contemplated this, and chose vegetable. I threw it in my lunch box today with a PB & J and a string cheese. A nice, wholesome, Anthony Michael Hall c. 1985 kind of lunch.

Which I splattered all over my computer and desk. You see, these sippy cups are opened by pull-tab. A very springy pull-tab, as I discovered, liable to fling greasy orange goo in a horror-show spray of horror across your entire work space. I had soup on my monitor, soup on all my very important sticky notes, soup dripping down in-between my keyboard keys; it was utter carnage.

I then tried to wipe the soup from my monitor, but the grease had mixed with the inevitable dust and formed a paste. I now report to you that this paste is IMPOSSIBLE to remove from anything without cleaning product, and that you will smear this paste around your desk indefinitely (much to the amusement of your co-workers) until you finally break down and go find some 409 in the bathroom, so you'd be better off if you never ate Soup-at-Hand anywhere near a computer or dust or really at all, ever.

The end.


I gave in. I ate the delicious donut. You only live once; I regret nothing.

I did not eat the delicious tech guy.

Tempted by the Donut of Another

Someone brought in donuts today. They say "12 Delicious Donuts" on the side of them. I will resist the donuts. I don't care how delicious they are. I have a delicious granola bar and delicious yogurt. Mmmmmmmmmmm yogurt.

Someone also brought in the hot tech guy. He keeps going into the boiler room, obviously begging for someone to go tackle him to the dirty, dirty ground and ravage him. guy.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Office Haiku #4

Tickle the keyboard
Not the hot office tech guy
He'll file a complaint.

And then I'd have to call my own office manager on me and let her know that a complaint was filed, and ask her what she plans on doing about it. Cause if she doesn't deal with this outrageousness, I'm going all the way to Region. Tickling is sexual harrassment, and hot office tech guys (even ones who dress well and don't break a sweat carrying big ass printers across the room all by themselves) do not have to take it.

I'd better stop staring at the new admin girl with the great hair, while I'm at it. (...but her hair...its just so great!)

Monday, February 07, 2005

All-Singing, All-Dancing

Sometimes I'm kind of glad that my job means nothing and affects no one. It makes me more inclined to care less, and less inclined to feel badly about that. Really takes the weight of right off your shoulders, you know?

Thursday, February 03, 2005


can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head
can't get this pressure point outta my head

Does anyone else get annoyed when people pronounce coupon "Q-pon?" I do. It sounds as if they are discussing advances in tampon technology. "Jane, have you tried the new X-pons? They are totally extreme!" "No, can't say that I have, Helen. But I just love the Q-pons they came out with this week. Smooth and absorbant, at home, work, or play, Q-pons are the 'pons for me!"

As you can see, work is just great today. Just. Great.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Update, Update, tra la la.

Okay, not so much an update. Nothing goes on with me. I am boring.

But I will tell you that I did something very very very uncharacteristic yesterday. I bought a sweater. I like to buy things, so the buying of a sweater in general is not exactly a big surprise. This particular purchase, however, is not in keeping with my character for three reasons:
  1. I bought it at full price, with no prior intent or plan, just because I wanted to.
  2. I bought it at the Gap.
  3. It is pink.

And, not only is it pink, my friends, but it is a reversible pink boatneck sweater that reverses to another shade of pink.

Look. "Business casual" does not just automatically occur. When you have to dress like this sort of monkey 4/7 days of your life, you start to get a sort of wandering eye for these things. You start to want your monkey suit to, I don't know, reflect you, as a person. I realized, as I tried the sweater on at THE GAP, PEOPLE, that the sweater would go just great with my new brown pants with the pink pinstripes, and that what would really reflect me as a person would be shoes that would go great with this whole outfit, and you know, I really really need better-cuter-hotter shoes in general and I must be stopped!

On Friday I will get paid and all of my bills for January have not yet come in and all I want to do is blow it all on hot shoes! Shoes to go with every skirt and pair of pants I own; shoes for every possible outfit and mood and occasion; shoes in every color, style, and heel height. I want FM boots, demure Mary Janes, FM Mary Janes....and of course, to end world hunger.

Remember when all I wore was boy's sneakers, all day, every day, everywhere? Well, I don't, damnit!! Apparantly, that girl took a hike some time ago. And if she were here, she'd want new shoes too!