Not Everyone Can Be An Astronaut

In pursuit of my latest addiction, Aquafina lip balm, (SHUT UP, addiction is a serious matter and is not something to be ridiculed!) I went to DrugMart, by my house.  I call it MethMart and trust me when I tell you that in order for me to willingly go there, I was DESPERATE for my balm fix.  I found my presssshhhus (and maybe some blueberry cheesecake ice cream, again, stfu, thankyouverymuch) and headed to the checkout line.  The girl behind the register was about 19 or 20 and was a big fan of glittery eyeshadow and lip piercings that maybe looked a tidge infected.  This was our conversation.

Me:  Hi, how are you?
Her:  What?
Me:  How are you?
Her:  Oh.
Me: . . .
Her:  I've never seen this before.  I didn't know Aquafina made lip balm.
Me:  It's great - it's my new favorite.
Her:  What does it taste like?  Does it taste like water?
Me:  . . . Pardon?
Her:  The lip balm, does it taste like water?
Me: Um... no.  It tastes kind of minty.
Her:  Oh.  I don't think I would like that. 
Me:  Pardon?
Her:  I don't think I would like that.  Huh, it's weird.
Me:  Oh... um, well, I have a lot of lip balms that are mint-flavored, so I guess I'm used to it.
Her:  No, I meant mint-flavored water.  I didn't know they had that.  I don't think I'd like it.
Me:  . . . *blink*  Ummmm?  What?
Her:  Aquafina.  I didn't know they made mint-flavored water.
Me:  Oh... I don't think they do.  I think just the lip balm is mint-flavored.
Her:  Oh.  I wonder if there's lemon-flavored water.  That would be good.
Me:  Hmmm, ok, have a good night!

Aaaaaand scene.

I hope she enjoys working at MethMart and more importantly, I hope MethMart enjoys her, because she's probably not going to be receiving multiple offers of employment on a regular basis...

Conversations with My Father - Pt. 7

Now I think he's messing with me.

Dad:  Hey, will you make me a Facebook?

Me:  What?  Why?  You don't have a computer.

Dad:  I know, but you could give me updates from people and then tell them what I'm up to.

Me:  . . .
Dad:  Everyone keeps asking me if I have a Facebook and I tell them I don't, but that you do, so they said you could make me one.
Me:  Well, that's true, I COULD make you one, but you wouldn't be able to use it because you don't have a computer.

Dad:  I KNOW, LAINEY, but YOU have a computer.

Me:  I don't understand.  Do you want me to bring my computer over?

Dad:  *sigh*  No.  I want you to make me a Facebook.

Me: . . .

Dad:  Just make me a Facebook and then tell me what people say.

Me:  WHAT PEOPLE?  I can't just MAKE you a Facebook and people will magically appear!

Dad:  Yes, they will.  They'll see that I have a Facebook and then they'll friend me.

Me:  Do you even know what "friend me" means?

Dad:  Yes, Lainey, I'm not retarded.  They'll be on my friends list and I can see what they're doing.

Me:  But YOU won't be able to see what they're doing, because you don't have a computer!

Dad:  But YOU do!

Me: I swear to god, I'm gonna' punch whoever told you to get on Facebook.  Just CALL people if you want to know what they're up to.
Dad:  That's SO 2005

Oh, Dad...*sigh*

So, look what Denny bought me:

He said it's "festive" (he LOVES that word) and I could put it on my desk at work.  OH, by the way, you can't really see it, but the witch's skirt thinger has sparkly crystals dangling from it, BECAUSE OF COURSE IT DOES.

So, I just chalked it up to another case of "Huh, Denny really doesn't know me, does he?"  But THEN, he gave me another gift and *sigh*, no, he knows me.

So, Happy HallowLaborWeen Day from Denny BoBainey, y'all!

Conversations with My Father - Pt. 5

Dad:  I bought you some eggs.

Me:  Oh, um, thanks?
Dad:  From the bar.
Me:  You bought me eggs at a bar?  What?  Are they pickled or something?

Dad:  No.  God.  From the Farley's farm.  They have chickens.

Me:  Oh, ok, well now that you've cleared that up...

Dad:  And I got you some of that pepper cheese you like.

Me:  Do they have cows, too?

Dad:  What?  Who said anything about cows?  *Chickens*.

Me:  I know, chickens make eggs, but cows make cheese.  Well, they don't MAKE cheese, but, you know.

Dad:  What the hell are you talking about?  

Me:  Right.  I'm the crazy one.

Dad:  Oh, no, the cheese is from Sam the Amish Cheese guy.

Me:  There's an Amish guy who sells cheese in the bar?  Does he drive his buggy into the city?

Dad:  Dammit, Lainey!  No, Sam's not Amish, he sells Amish cheese.

Me:  Ok, well that was unclear.  You said "Sam, the AMISH cheese guy", not "Sam, the Amish CHEESE guy".

Dad:  What?

Me:  The emphasis would be different.

Dad:  I didn't emphasize anything - YOU did.

Me:  I know, I just... never mind.  Thank you.

Phone rings 20 seconds later...

Dad:  They also have goats.

Me:  WHAT?

Dad:  The Farleys.  Chickens and goats, but they don't have goat cheese.  Do you want me to ask Sam, the Amish CHEESE guy if they have goat cheese?

Me:  No, I don't like goat cheese, but thanks.

Dad:  Then why did you ask about goats?

Me:  WHAT?  I didn't say anything about goats - YOU did.

Dad:  I don't think that's true, but if you say so.  Why would you lie about goats?

Me:  I ... do you TRY to make my head hurt?

PS:  I was trying to find an appropriate photo to accompany this post, but INSTEAD I found Pygmy goats and OHMYGOD, now I want a Pygmy goat more than anything!  Look how cute they are.

Things That Are Bothering Me TODAY

• Having to clean ALL of the things when I feel like I JUST cleaned ALL of the things when I MOVED ALL of the things.  There should be a free pass for 90 days after that.
• Dropping my toast on my new couch - butter-side down.
• Anyone who says I shouldn't be eating toast on my new couch.
• Emails from people telling me they miss me, but those same people never being particularly engaged in talking to me when I'm around.
• Blogger REFUSING to go to the next line when I hit "enter" and making me MANUALLY drop to the next line.  
• Lying down too quickly and smooshing my boobs.
• Cat hair.
• Guys who send me emails from the personals thing that just say, "Hey - how you doing?"  I'm fine.  REALLY, that's what you came up with as an opening?  Go sit down.  Oh and part two of this?  You don't have to be a good speller anymore, that's why Al Gore invented Spellchecker.  Use it for fuck's sake.
• The cat who REFUSES to sit on the window perch that I bought and installed for her and instead lays on the bathroom floor.  Jerk.
• Amazing sex dreams in the morning that won't get out of your head for the rest of the day.
• Humidity making my hair look like Roseanne Rosannadanna.
• Having to look up how to spell Roseanne Rosannadanna.
• People who are too young to know who Roseanne Rosannadanna is.
• Hot guys who are too young for me.
• Hot guys who are too married for me.
• Hot weather that is too hot for me.
• LeBron James.

*AWKward*!

Ok, real quick - so this is NOT part two of the other post - I'll get to that later.  This is just a little exchange I had with my father.  Oh, backstory, um, my sexyfuntime friend will be here tomorrow night and we will be, um, getting together. 

Dad:  Lainey, can you take me up to drop off my car at the shop tomorrow when you get off work?
Me:  Um, can I take you up there tonight?  I have plans tomorrow night.

Dad:  Right after work?  What are you doing?

Me:  Um, a friend is in town.

Dad:  Ok, well, I was going to make dinner and wanted to see if you wanted to join me.

Me:  Oh, thanks.  Um, can we do it another night?
Dad:  Well, why don't you just bring your friend by?
Me:  We have plans already.
Dad:  What are you going to do?
Me:  What's with all the questions?  I don't know.  Probably watch a movie and catch up.  We haven't seen each other in awhile.

Dad:  Ok, well if you get bored, you and your friend can come by for dessert.

Me:  OKGREATTHANKSBYE.

Awkward. 

What a Weird Day

Hi!  I think it's only fair to warn you that this will not be interesting or entertaining, but hey, that's just how life goes sometimes, ya' know?

So, last night I did not sleep well at all.  I suck at sleeping normally, but last night I was extra bad at it and got a total of maybe 3 hours and yet still woke up in a fairly decent mood.  I bopped out to my car this morning and grabbed my sunglasses from their spot, put the key in the ignition, all the lights lit up, and then nothing.  Car no go.  I called my friend, the race car driver, because he knows a bit about engines and also because WHO WOULDN'T want to talk to me first thing on a Monday morning?  He asked a couple of questions and told me it was the battery (which, I totally thought he was full of shit because the lights and stuff worked, but I went with it anyway, because, well, he's a guy and he knows about cars and because I didn't feel like arguing with him) and that a jump would probably get it started and I should get a new battery.  I called my boss and said I'd be late (oh and I had Thursday afternoon and Friday off, so I'm SURE my boss was all, "Really?  Seriously, you're going to call in late on a Monday after a long weekend?  Really?") and then called my dad and woke him up.  I asked him if he would jump my car (even though I still really didn't think it would be that simple) and he, because he's a very nice guy, said sure and then showed up in his boxers.  He at least had the decency to put on a shirt, but evidently it was too difficult to pull on a pair of jeans over those boxers...  Anyway, he told me my jumper cables were "girl cables" (No, they were not pink.  I don't know what the hell "girl cables" are, but whatever) and would use his instead.  Hooked it up and voila' - started right up.  Dammit, I hate it when that boy is right! (Thank you!)  Oh and then my dad taught me how to use the jumper cables - twice, because I am apparently not bright enough to understand red to red and positive to positive and the directions written on the tag attached to the cables...

Most of the day went by as usual - catching up on emails and FMLA paperwork and reading the EMPHATIC opinions of the LOST finale, when my boss called me in to her office.  So check this out, we have an employee who is sabotaging another employee.  There's this guy who runs reports and saves them to a shared drive and then this saboteur (is that a real word?) is going in and changing his reports or deleting portions of them and this guy keeps getting blamed for having fucked up work!  I KNOW, RIGHT?  Like for months, he's been getting in trouble for errors on his reports and for missing & incorrect information and he's been going crazy telling his supervisor that he did the report correctly and everyone just thinks he's a dumbass or a lying dumbass and come to find out, his co-worker is totally SCREWING him over!  He started taking screen caps of his reports and emailing them to another co-worker, so he can prove that he did it correctly and blah, blah, blah, the IT guys did something and figured out that this co-worker of his was logging in as him, but from her computer, I don't know it's all computery... all I know is this chick is a fucking piece of work and I'm curious to see how this plays out.  AND THEN zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz sorry, I launched into a totally different REALLY boring story and decided that even I didn't care enough to finish it, so you probably wouldn't care enough either.   I'll just leave you with this - I spent $25 on a bottle of shampoo.  Because I have zero impulse control and because that damn Meg told me I should, so now I'm off to wash my hair and it better be A-FREAKIN'-MAZING.

Oh sorry, how rude of me - how are YOU?  Anything you'd like to share with the other kids?

Conversations with My Father - Pt. 4

*sigh*

You guys?  I'm almost starting to suspect that some of you are messing with me.  My dad called. *sigh*

Dad:  Hi, I know you're at work and can't really talk, but I bought a UPS and I need you to help me with it.
Me:  What?
Dad:  You know, one of those UPS things.
Me:  *sigh*  ... Umm?
Dad:  For driving.  A CPU.
Me:  Wait, you just bought this?  What does the box say it is?
Dad:  Dammit, Lainey, it's just one of those CPS map things!  Jesus, sorry I don't know the EXACT name of it!
Me:  A GPS?  You bought a GPS?  WHY?  I have one, you can have mine.
Dad:  I don't want yours, I have my own now.  Can you come by after work and teach me how to use it?
Me:  Dad, you drive cars for a living, I'm pretty sure you know every single road in this city, why do you need a GPS?
Dad:  Because I just DO.  Can you stop by or not?
Me:  Sure.  I haven't had a headache in 3 whole days, so yeah, I'm about due...

Phone rings 20 seconds later:
Dad:  Will this plug into my phone or does it get wired in through the odometer?  (True story!)

Here's a bonus conversation for you.  This took place a couple of years ago.

Dad:  What's that one movie?
Me:  Which one movie?
Dad:  The one with that guy I like.
Me:  ....Umm?
Dad:  *sigh*  You KNOW.  The one with the Other Ben.
Me:  You mean Matt Damon?
Dad:  YES, what's that movie?
Me:  I have no idea...he's in a lot of movies.
Dad:  Dammit, Lainey, you know the one!  The one with that girl who was like a crazy, teenager, stripper with the girl from Clueless.
Me:  ... ....
Me:  Armageddon?
Dad:  YEP, that's it!
Me:  That was actually Ben Affleck, not the Other Ben.
Dad:  Oh, ok then, well what's that one movie with the Other Ben?
Me:  I'm done with this conversation... I have a headache.

Cost Effective AND Good for the Environment!

You guys, this week?  Holy balls.  This week has kicked me in the teeth and almost reduced me to tears a couple of times.  It's INSANE the amount of crap that's going on at work and people have done lost their damn minds!  Ohmylord.  But anyway, this isn't about that.  This entry is not a "woe is me, my job is *hard*" post.  This entry is all about the GEM I found today when emptying the Suggestion Box (Which seriously, really needs a new name. Rarely, if ever, have I had a legitimate and cost-effective/helpful suggestion come from it. In fact, truth be told, I fucking hate the Suggestion Box and think it's worthless and encourages stupidity.  One of the first "Suggestions" [Yes, it needs quotes] was for the company to pump pure oxygen in through the air vents, so the employees would be more alert and productive.  Hand to God.  Actual "Suggestion".). 

However, I want to find this person and ask them to be my new BFF.

Haa, A-MEN, my red pen-loving friend.  A-fucking-men!

Conversations with My Father Pt. 3

This is a true story and JUST happened like 5 minutes ago.

Dad: Did you take $200 out of my checking account?

Me: Yeah, like 2 or 3 weeks ago.

Dad: Why would you do that?

Me: Um, remember that $200 check I asked you to deposit for me and you accidentally deposited it in *your* account and I said, "No big deal, I'll just transfer it to my account". Remember that?

Dad: Well I DO NOW, but I didn't remember it earlier when I got my bank statement and it said "$200 withdrawal - internet transfer" and I marched down to the bank demanding to know who the fuck was stealing money from me on the internet! And the girl said, "Oh no! Let me see what's going on...oh, Mr. Bobainey, a Miss Lainey Bobainey transferred $200 from your account, on which she has signature ability (that you made her take time off of work to go fucking get so that she could access your whopping $1100 checking account in case you die in your sleep and she needs money to have someone haul out the 400 fucking jars of pickles that you keep buying because they're only $.88 apiece even though you never eat them, but by all means, keep buying them because hey, why not... she might not have actually said any of this part...), to her account on March 27th."

Me: *facepalm* Great, so now the bank thinks I'm embezzling from my father. Awse. Dad, why didn't you ask me first instead of going to the bank?

Dad: Because, LAINEY, I've seen this on the news. Internet people hijack (I think he meant "hack") into the accounts of rich old people and take a little bit at a time so no one becomes suspicious and since you put my account on the internet (not even going to bother trying to correct him on this one) when you got access to it, I was afraid it notified hijackers or something.

Me: Ok, first of all, you're only 62 and you're also not exactly rich. Secondly, you need to just stop watching the news.

Dad: Maybe the bank should have something in place where they send an email if someone tries to access your account?

Me: But, you don't have an email...

Dad: YES, I do!

Me: *sigh* Nope, you're right - I forgot. I'll call the bank on Monday and tell them to send you an email at dennybobainey at the internet dot com from now on.

Dad: Good. That's just common sense, you know?

Me: Yep...

Phone rings 20 seconds later...
Dad:  Will you check my email - maybe the bank already does this?

Conversations With My Father...

This happened today.

Dad:  Sorry to bother you at work; I know you're busy.

Me:   Not really.  Just dicking around on Facebook at the moment.

Dad:  What's a facebook?

Me:   You know what?  Doesn't matter.  What's up?

Dad:  Do I have an email?

Me:   Um, no.

Dad:  Why not?

Me:   You don't have a computer.

Dad:  You have to have a computer to have the email?

Me:   No, but you can't read the email without a computer or on your phone.

Dad:  If I had an email would it just be "Denny at the internet dot com"?

Me:   No.  No, it would not.

Dad:  Why not?

Me:   Dad, do you think you're the only Denny in the world?

Dad:  Well, no shit, obviously, it would be "Denny Bobainey* at the internet dot com".

Me:  Obviously.

Dad:  So, can you make me an email and if I tell someone to send me something, do I tell them "Denny Bobainey at the internet dot com"?

Me:   No.  Dad.... I can create an email address for you, but why don't you just have them send it to my email address and I'll print it for you?

Dad:  Because.  Just make me that email.

Me:   Ok, whatever.  Are you waiting for something, 'cause that's not a real email address.

Dad:  Well, it will be when you make it.

Me:   No, Dad...it doesn't really work that way. 

Dad:  Why not?  How many Denny Bobaineys can there be?

Me:   It's not a valid address - there is no such thing as "at the internet dot com", but even if there was, let's just say there was, I have no idea how many Denny Bobaineys there are in the world and also, your  name doesn't even have to actually be Denny Bobainey to use it.

Dad:  What?  You mean Dick McDickface, down the street, can use my name for his internet if he wants?

Me:  Well, yes, but if his name's Dick McDickface, I don't know why he'd want your name.  His name is AWESOME.

Dad:  No, seriously, anyone can use my name and pretend to be me?

Me:  Well, kind of. 

Dad: Well, that's some bullshit right there.

Me:  Maybe you should write to the president and tell him that.

Dad:  I CAN'T - I don't have an EMAIL and even if I did, how would the president really know it was me?

Me:   I don't know.  I'll have to think about that and get back to you.


20 seconds later the phone rings:

Dad:  Is Facebook that internet yearbook thing?

Me:   Kinda', yeah, it kind of is.

Dad:  Look on there and see if anyone's pretending to be me!

And scene!


*Not his real name.  Please don't try to impersonate him on the internets or try to steal his Social Security Checks.

Mid-Week

So this really has nothing to do with No Whining Wednesday, but I don't have anything else to write about. Well, I DO have other things to write about, but they'll take effort and thought and editing and I'm just not feeling super excited about any of those words, so you'll get this. And you'll LIKE it.

The grocery store by my house employs "special" folks as, I'm sure, lots of grocery stores do. One of the gentlemen who works there is named Dan and Dan falls somewhere on the Autism spectrum. He talks a mile a minute to you as soon as you get to the register and he does it with a completely flat tone with no rises or falls. He doesn't laugh, he says, "HA HA". I have no idea how, but half of the times I'm at the store, I wind up in Dan's line.

So, the other day I'm standing in line checking out and Dan's rambling on and on and saying, "HA HA" after every 3rd sentence. I saw my boss's 17-year-old daughter run in. I said, "Hey, Debi, whatcha' doing?"

She stopped and said, "Oh hey! I'm running in to get money and then I have to go meet my mom. She's REALLY mad at me. Like REALLY mad!" I asked why. She said because she was getting her nose pierced and her mom was not happy.

I laughed and said, "DEBI - you are not! I'm telling your mother!"

Obviously, I'm kidding.

Not to Dan. Dan stopped ringing up my groceries, lowered his eyebrows, looked at me scornfully and said, slowly and clearly, "You shouldn't tattle. It's NOT nice."

Dan had nothing else to say to me for the remainder of our checkout time together.

Yeah, so my recollection of this fascinating story probably isn't nearly as amusing as it was at the time, but you guys, it was really funny. Seriously. HA HA!

Happy No Whining Wednesday!  Anything make you laugh recently?  

I Am Not the Mom of You!

This has been a challenging week at work.  Well, hell, most weeks are challenging, this one has just been mildly more irritating in its challenges.  I was tasked by the VP and Directors to create & head a committee of employees to come up with ways to "fix" the office.  Fix morale, fix shitty attitudes, fix low productivity, fix high turnover.  Yeah, that shouldn't be too hard, right?  I mean, gee, "Here Lainey, in addition to all of your regular responsibilities, we are charging you with changing the attitudes of 370 people of varying personalities, ages, genders, socio-economic backgrounds, etc.  You need to make 370 people 'like each other and like their jobs'.  You're creative and we haven't been able to do it, so here ya' go.  Make it happen!"

So, I'll get on that this week, but I have to make sure I leave time for the following conversations that I have daily:  (I'm not making any of these up.)

Employee #1 - I don't know what to do anymore.  The co-worker in the next cube over eats chips and salsa every afternoon and the smell is killing me.  Can you make her stop or move my desk?

Employee #2 - My co-worker hums.  It's really annoying and I can't take it anymore.  Also, she chews gum pretty loud.  Can you please send out an email telling people to be respectful of the people around them?

Employee #3 - Someone is wearing really strong perfume or lotion and it's giving me a headache.  Can you please send out a reminder email that people shouldn't wear strong scents because some people are sensitive and have allergies?  (By the way, we send this out at least 5 times a year and we cover it EXTENSIVELY in New Hire Orientation.  It doesn't work.)

Employee #4 - My co-worker made fun of me today because I'd never heard of putting sour cream on jojos.  My grandmother is dying and I don't appreciate being made fun of.  Can you please move her to another department or tell her she can only talk to me about work-related things?

Employee #5 - Why do the heavier employees get to wear leggings/stretch pants if the rest of us can't?  I don't think it's fair.  They have stores for bigger people, why can't they get clothes that fit them when we're expected to adhere to the dress code?

Employee #6 - I need copies of my paystubs for the last 12 months.  (Me: did you save any of them?) I have most of them at home, but they're not in any kind of order and I'm missing some, but I don't know which ones and I need them today because I'm trying to get a loan.  Can you just print them all out?  (Without going into the system and individually opening 26 paystubs and reprinting them, no, I can't just print them all out.)

Employee #7 - (Anonymous note on my desk) Please make the supervisors stop calling employees "honey" or "sweetie".  It's insulting and demeaning.  It's unprofessional.  They should be written-up.

Employee #8 - My supervisor has cankles and someone needs to make her wear long pants instead of skirts because it makes me want to puke when I see her legs.  (Ok, I *might* have made this one up, but it's not that far-fetched.)

Employee #9 - Someone stole my Pepsi out of the refrigerator.  This is the 5th time this has happened.  Can we set up a security camera?  (Yes, we'll set up a camera for your $.60 soda.)

Employee #10 (my boss) - Ohmygod, did you watch "Two and a Half Men" last night?  It is HILARIOUS!  God, I love that show!

So, surely I'm not the only one with petty co-workers.  What's the most ridiculous/silly/whiny/petty thing you've heard from your co-irkers or supervisor?  Please help convince me that while my employees are "special", they aren't unique.

I Should Have Been a Pre-School Teacher...

An employee, in her late 20's/early 30's sent me an email this morning. It read, "I know you're very busy and there's a lot going on, but can I please come down and talk to you? It's not urgent, but it's pretty important." I told her to come down. This is what she said:

Employee: There's a girl in my department who calls me a nickname and *sniff*, I don't know what to dooooooo!

Me: What does she call you?

Emp: Queen Bee

Me: Ok, have you asked her to stop?

Emp: *crying* Nuuhh-uu-hh

Me: Ok. Have you thought about just asking her to not call you that?

Emp: *sniffle* Yes, but I didn't want her to be mad at me. *snuffle* I don't want to cause any problems or anything.

Me: Ok, hmm. Does she say it in a mean way? I mean, does she have an aggressive tone of voice or expression?

Emp: Nuh-uh.

Me: Hmm. Ok. Um, are you here because you'd like me to ask her to stop calling you that?

Emp: *snifflesnort* Whull, yeah. Um, I mean, I don't want to make a big deal out of it or anything because I don't want her to be mad at me.

Me: So, ok...Do you think she would be less upset by being called down to HR & being talked to? Do you think if you just maybe said, "Hey, um, I know you're just goofing around, but can you not call me that?"

Emp: *gulp* Yabbut, I'm afraid if I say something to her about it, she'll get upset & think I'm being a baby.

REALLY???? Why in the world would she ever think you're being a baby? *sigh* How do you function?

People, your Human Resources department is there to help you and make sure you're being treated fairly and everyone's following all the rules and crap, but we are NOT here to be your mom! In fact, if you act like this, your mom should be fucking smacked for failing to teach you to put on your big girl/boy panties and grow the hell up.

How NOT To Write A Cover Letter - Pt. 2

Remember this? Ok, this one isn't as fantastically awesome as that, but it's still pretty good. And it's Monday. This is the best I can do today. It's exactly as I received it. Oh and the open position is for a Medical Biller & Coder, not that it really matters.

Welcome to my life!


“There are those who look at life and see things as they are. Then, there are those who look at life and see how things could be and ask the question: Why not?”

Robert F. Kennedy


I first want to thank you for your time and hopefully your consideration in me becoming a candidate for the position. I believe it is important first to promulgate the foundation of who I am not only in respect of applying for the position, but also in respect of you gaining a 3 dimensional view of who I am. Starting this process without having that view may leave it in vain.

First and foremost I am an artist trained in music to be specific. I began at age eleven and started classical training. The families of instruments I cover are strings and percussion. I write for all styles of music and all capacities as well. In writing for all various situations I truly believe I have gained a firm grasp on what is needed and what is not needed from an organizational standpoint as well from a leadership role. Working in music teaches you the most important aspects of leadership and work ethic. Values such as quality, efficiency, communication, passion for the work, team work and the most important value of all: humility. The grace in knowing you are wrong and admitting it in order to better the work. The art of conducting and band leading enunciates the value of leading by example and in turn that phrase becomes obligatory for the ones you are leading.

The next dimension of who I am is one of community service. I am a Secular Franciscan and the aspects of Franciscan teaching envelopes helping the sick and poor. I participate in food drives and go in the community and collect food for the poor as well as volunteering at ‘Little sisters of the poor’ retirement hospital with performing music and assisting with what ever they need. These actions give me a greater understanding of helping those who have less or those who need the most help.

In a leadership setting it is essential that no one should be, or feel left out or having feelings that they are not an important member of the team. With these aspects I would like to coagulate this resume into two sections. First music. Second other works. I would like to thank you once again for this opportunity to emancipate the aspects of who I am as a person and as well as my skills. The ability to create or drive or increase profitability for a company is as much an art as writing for a symphony or bringing life to a canvas. I hope that this introductory letter gives you what I hope will be the foundation of who I am for not knowing the root of an employee or for that matter a person can ultimately I believe lead to not knowing what the character of your staff will be.

God, Grant Me the Serenity...

To not punch my dad in the head!

Yes, yes, I said all kinds of hippy dippy positive shit in my last entry and I totally meant it and plan to do it on Wednesday. This is Monday. I don't have to be positive and happy yet.


Backstory -
My dad believes that everyone you know and have ever met in your life, but especially family, can get you a deal on anything.

So far, the guy he knows who can do my brakes - fucked them up so badly that Honda had to special order a part to fix it.

The furniture that he was going to buy from the store where my cousin works - cousin was authorized to give him a whopping 3% discount. Regular furniture store gave him a 12% discount.

The friend who fixed the AC in his car - the car had to go back 3 times and finally on the third time, the guy admitted that they'd cracked something the 1st time they had it, so it was going to take a few extra days to get that sorted out.

The friend of his who was going to clean my apartment for WAY less than the woman who I usually have do it. She swept the floor, wiped out the sinks and took out the trash. Wow, all that for $45?

The friend he knows who can get me a deal on insurance - charges $22 a month more than my current insurance provider.

The uncle who can get me my glasses for way less money - it took me almost 2 months to get my glasses.

The uncle who could get me a discount on the really good Goodyear tires - I had to take a half of a day off of work to accompany him to the Goodyear store, so I could get my 20% off. I also had a coupon for 20% off. Yeah, I couldn't use the coupon AND the employee discount, so either way, I was getting no more than 20% and I could have saved 4 hours of my vacation time & not had to talk to my annoying uncle.

Is a pattern emerging?

Now, he knows a guy who works for Time Warner who can get me Road Runner, phone, cable, Showtime, HBO, Cinemax & Starz for $80 a month. I pay about $120 now. I told my dad "No, thanks, it's cool." It took me over a year to figure out what the hell was wrong with my cable to begin with (I wasn't able to use the OnDemand channels. I researched it, I fixed it. Yes, I'm a bad-ass.) and now that everything's working hunky dory, I'd rather not fuck with it. Now my dad's all mad at me and acting like a big 'ol jackass because "It must be nice to piss away an extra $40 a month..." and he's going to look bad in front of his friend (Why will he look bad? I don't know.)

So, here's my question - do I just shut the fuck up & let his friend do whatever Time Warner magic he claims he can do (ooh, which by the way, the ex used to work for TW. He was never able to lower my cable bill and I was blowing him. Why *this* guy can, I don't know.) and just cross my fingers that this doesn't end poorly. OR do I stand my ground and just say, "yeah, no, I'm filthy rich & I don't mind spending the extra $40 a month".

What say you?

I've Made a Huge Mistake...

Hey kids, remember when I said Thirteen was sucking my will to live? Yeah, I wasn't lying. She's seriously making me hate my job. This is so not cool, because as much as I bitch about it, I basically love my job.

It's like working with an OCD Chihuahua. She's nervous, yappy, repetitive and annoying as hell and I need to like her, but I can't figure out how. My boss called me into her office the other day. She said, "Do you have any idea how funny it is for me to listen to you talk to her all day long and by about 3:00, you're just done. You've had it with being polite. You've had it with being helpful. You're just done."

I was a bit concerned and I honestly felt bad! I said, "Do you think she can tell?"

My boss, who is SO going to Hell, said,"Oh nooooooo, that's the HILARIOUS part! She has no idea how close you are to ripping her face off! I'm pretty sure she thinks you guys are buds!"

Super.

I have to go to a job fair with her all day on Wednesday. Now, if you remember from my earlier post, job fairs are painful, exhausting and an exercise in patience & acting. With Jackie, we could help each other out and keep the mood light, so the day didn't seem quite so heinous. Yeah, I don't really see this happening with Thirteen.

Here are some reasons that she makes me want to punch her in the head:

* She asks the same question OVER AND OVER and never refers to her notes. When I remind her that we've gone over this and it's probably in her notes, the first thing she says is, "I don't think so." After I make her look at her notes, she says, "Oh yeah, that's right." So, wouldn't logic dictate that she should look at her notes first and then ask me?

* She shakes. She's told me that she's on several different medications for anxiety, OCD and who knows what else. That's fine. People have nervous issues, I'm cool with that. I take anti-anxiety medication when I fly. (And sometimes just for fun!) But, then with all of those different drugs in you, why are you still a quivering mass of vibrating nerves? You make ME nervous. Stop it. Plus, she twirls her hair when she's nervous, so that pretty much means *constantly*. She twirls and twirls and then her eyes glaze over when you're having a conversation and I think this explains why she doesn't retain any information. She's drugged out & zoning. Hey, if I have to be sober at work, so should she!

* She set up a webcam to watch her cat. I don't think this needs further comment.

* She's OBSESSED with all things Twilight, Edward Cullen and Robert Pattinson. First she said she didn't like RPatz, but turns out that was kind of a lie. She LOOOOOOOVES him and sends me text messages to tell me that according to the Facebook quiz she took, Robert "I need a bath" Pattinson is her celebrity dream boyfriend.

* She can't seem to read body language or facial cues. She does ok with applicants, I guess, but she can't seem to tell when I'm getting annoyed or impatient. This is bad, because I'm pretty obvious about it. If she can't read me, then it concerns me that she'll not be able to read our boss's or other upper management's tone and body language & will annoy them, which let's face it, this will come back to bite me because they'll just refuse to deal with her and will come to me instead.

* The other day, we were talking about how an employee was not going to be eligible for a referral bonus because the applicant didn't list the referring employee's name anywhere on their application or new hire paperwork. Thirteen said, "Will the employee think we 'Jewed' them out of their bonus?" Wait, WHAT??? Did you just actually fucking SAY that? I didn't even respond at the time, because I was so taken aback by the comment. Is that something the kids say nowadays? I'll have to talk to her about it sometime (soon!), but I keep waiting to hear what other completely inappropriate bon mots she's going to drop.

* I'm pretty sure she's bulimic. The girl weighs all of 100 pounds, and I see the crap she eats! She's not a nibbler. She either works out for 3 hours a day or she pukes. Also, because she's so freakin' skinny, she's cold all the time. It's JULY and she wears a sweater or coat every day. It's JULY!

* She doesn't seem to grasp the subtleties of sarcasm. She thinks I'm serious when I say something that is obviously sarcastic or facetious. When she tries to be sarcastic, it comes off as caustic & mean sounding. She tries to emulate my conversational style with the management staff, but they know me. They're used to me & I know who I can be sarcastic with and, more importantly, who I can't. She doesn't & they don't know if she's kidding or not & several have already decided she's a snotty halfwit. I've tried explaining to her that she needs to know her audience and she just glazes over and says, "Oh, right, I know. She knew I was playing." Um, nuh-uh!

Ok, I'm finished. Sorry, I just had to get that out, because, you guys, I need help! I need to like her. I need to be able to work with her & I need to be able to mentor her and I don't know what to do. I'm not saying I need to be friends with her, but I have to be able to spend 8 - 10 hours a day with her and NOT dream of ways to catch her hair in the shredder. Talking to my boss about fixing it is not an option. She's tasked me with this. Ideas? Suggestions? I'll take anything you're offering except ways to kill her or get her fired. I have enough of those...

A Hodgepodge of Blah

Few things going on. Nothing really worthy of its own entry, so I'm just going to cram 'em all into one.

First up - Thirteen is sucking my will to live. Here's a tip, never hire someone based primarily on the tv shows they watch. (Turns out you can love both "The Office" AND be obsessed with "Twilight" & Edward Cullen. Who knew?) Ok, that's not really fair. *Anyone* in this position would annoy me, while they're training, because I'm terribly impatient and not good at hiding it. BUT, when I tell someone repeatedly to take notes about something I'm teaching them and then I tell them repeatedly to use said notes for future reference, I get peeved when they completely ignore this & continue to repeatedly ask me the same question. Also, I took a vacation day today. Our boss and other co-workers are still in the office. I didn't leave her completely on her own. I told Thirteen that she could call me if she had questions. Evidently, she thinks far more literally than I do, because she's called me for every question that has popped into her head today and also to tell me her aunt's dog died last night & she's sad. She called to ask me why her computer screen is turning green when she tries to quit a program. She called to ask me if she should have an applicant take a test. She called to ask me what she should do with an application I put on her desk last night. (I put a note on the application; it said, "Give to Deb W. Ask her to call the applicant to do a phone interview".) Then she called me back to ask me where Deb sits. Dude, that's not exactly what I meant when I said call if you have questions. Whatever, I'll eat that mistake. Live and learn.

Next - I got my hair straightened last night and it went, to put it mildly, horribly wrong. I get my hair straightened every 3 or 4 months and it normally comes out just dandy. For the record and at the risk of sounding terribly conceited, I have great hair. However, it's neither curly nor straight and it's not technically wavy either. It's more bumpy. It holds curl beautifully and it straightens nicely as well. It was damn near perfect in the '80's when big hair was all the rage. In the summer, the humidity makes it frizzy and knotted underneath and it takes entirely too much effort to maintain it for work, so I get it chemically straightened. For whatever reason, the lady I've been going to for 10 years decided to do it differently than she normally does and now...well, now it's just wretched. It looks like Hat Head. Like I've been wearing a knit cap pulled tightly over my crown for approximately 37 days and now I've taken it off. My hair is FAH-LAT smooshed against my skull at the top and then hangs straight and full at the bottom, so to say it looks rather like a pyramid would not be untrue. I paid $112 for this look that I could have achieved by wearing a do rag & using a flat iron.

And finally - something's wrong with my brain. I don't talk about this, to anyone, but I'm going through a really rough patch lately because I can't get this jerk out of my head. I hate myself for loving him and I hate myself for missing him and I hate myself for being a douchey, crybaby girl, but the fact of the matter is, he was my best friend and I miss him. Every day. It doesn't go away. It doesn't hurt less. It's not getting better. My heart aches & I get a lump in my throat every single day because every single day I want to talk to him. He has a starring role in most of my dreams and I hate that I wake up every morning and the first thing I think of is him. I want him to make me laugh and I want to know how he is and I want to be able to have a friendship with him and it makes me SO angry & sad that I can't. Balls.

Since I hate ending things on a total downer, I'm sharing this little tidbit with you. I recently installed a Stat Counter because I was curious as to how people wind up here. Not surprisingly, most of you are from Pajiba or Facebook (and since the only people I have on Facebook are from Pajiba, basically you're all pretty much here from Pajiba). However, sometimes folks get here by way of Google and the shit they're searching for is HI-larious! Below are some actual search phrases that led them to this here fancy blog. Please to enjoy!

"opposite of exciting" - Okay, 3 different people searched for that and wound up here. C'mon that's just funny!

But these just baffle me:
"mom jerking daddy off"
"moms and me or two guys"
"Bang My Step Mom"
"mom told me that it is good for girly boy to suck cock"
"Mom busted boys in jerking contest on the stairs"

Welcome visitors with sexual mommy issues! Pull up a chair and stay for a while. We love new people!

Oh, It 's Already Been Broughten!

I I scheduled an interview for Friday. An interview with a most unsuitable candidate. (Not this unsuitable, because I'm not a monster!) Then I took Friday off. Jackie has to do the interview.

And to up the douche factor? I yelled BOO-YA after I told her.

Lainey - 1 (maybe 1.5)
Jackie - 1

On a related note - jamiepants was attending a fair at a community college and may have the opportunity to snag her very own Go Army FREEDOM Mug. I am tickled pink at the prospect of multiple FREEDOM Mugs circulating throughout the blogonets. Tickled pink!

FREEDOM TASTES LIKE AMERICA!! And a little like gin.

First of all - I freakin' love all of you nutty nuts!

Second - I stole the title of this entry from Anna von Beaverplatz. Thank you, AvB for being awesome and kind of a drunk.

Third - it is ON, bitches!

Jackie and I are fighting over the FREEDOM MUG now, so we decided we should have some type of competition and the winner would get the cup. Our boss suggested we write an essay on "What Freedom Means To Me" because she is LAME and a nerd and apparently thinks we're 9 and she's our teacher. After Jackie and I both crushed her spirit with our withering looks, we decided that whoever is the biggest douche (without being a truly rotten person) wins the coveted cup.

Jackie made the first move. On her way out, while I was stuck on a conference call, she stopped in my office & sang the "B is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S" song, thereby infecting me with a most heinous earworm. Evil!

Jackie - 1
Lainey - 0

Help me, evil geniuses - I need ideas for pummeling her. I WANT THAT CUP!