First off, I hate talking or writing about work. Work is boring. No one wants to hear about someone else's work. Why should I presume to think that MY work is any more interesting or valid than anyone else's? That said, I'm about to launch into a story/rant about work. So, you've been warned and can now choose your own adventure: quit now and go do something else or keep reading knowing that I'm babbling about work. Oh, and it's not a funny story. I feel like I should also say that upfront. It's not sad or anything, but it's not something you're going to think, "Oh, that Lainey! What a character!" That's probably not gonna' happen. If it does, please feel free to let me know.
I spent over an hour in a meeting today to discuss what to do about an under-performing employee. This is the third such meeting I've been in over the past 2 weeks. All about different employees. The focus of today's meeting was a middle-aged woman with some type of illness (maybe Parkinson's?) that she's not really willing to discuss with us and that she INSISTS is not affecting her productivity in any way. It should be noted that this employee has either had this affliction since she started with us 5 years ago or she's just always been an under-performing employee. Her problem is that she's slow. Like sllllooooooowwwww slow. Also, she doesn't really seem to grasp simple concepts and does not take any responsibility at all for her poor performance and insists that we are just out to get her. By way of comparison, other employees enter/bill 100 trips a day; she enters/bills 30. Her supervisor and manager have spent many, many, many hours coaching her and training her and trying to get her up to speed. They've taken away extra tasks and assigned them to other employees and when she still wasn't able to hit the minimum requirement, they took another chunk of responsibility away from her and sent her through training again. During all of this she has maintained that there's not a problem and that they're just picking on her.
The supervisor and manager don't want to fire her, my boss doesn't want to fire her, no one wants to get rid of her, but there's nowhere else for her to go within the organization. I guess the reason I'm writing this is because I get SO tired of hearing people say things like, "HR is out to screw people", "Corporations only care about the bottom line", "Employees are just numbers", blah, blah, blah. You know what? SHUT THE FUCK UP. Of course companies are concerned with the bottom line! If you work for a company that isn't, I suggest you start looking for a new place of employment, because yours isn't going to be around for long. HR is NOT out to screw people. Holy crap, do you even know how much fucking paperwork is involved to write-up and/or fire someone? How much extra documentation has to be done? It's ridiculous. HR doesn't want to screw you. HR doesn't even want to deal with you, so there's no way in hell they're TRYING to get you in trouble. As far as employees being "just numbers", that's just dumb. It's a symbiotic relationship. The company exists to make money. That's its function. In order to make money, the company must have employees and in order to pay the employees the company must make money, so the employees must perform in a satisfactory and productive manner in order for the company to make the money to pay the employee for the satisfactory and productive work. SEE? It's a cycle. They depend on each other.
Are there incompetent, jackassy, unethical, supervisors, managers, and directors in companies? Absolutely. Does management sometimes hate one of their employees? FOR sure. But, overall, supervisors, managers, and HR are all there, the same as you, trying to do a good job. Trying to balance the needs of the company with the needs of the many employees. They're trying to get their work done, while they review yours and they don't want to discipline or fire people. They will hold many meetings (and sometimes sweep things under the rug) and review policies and lose sleep over the decision to terminate someone's employment. The COMPANY may be an entity, but the people making the decisions and doing the hard task of writing someone up or eventually firing them are PEOPLE. These people really aren't rubbing their hands together and twirling their mustaches and cackling with glee over the prospect of screwing you over, they're trying to find ways to help you, so that you are a productive and satisfactory part of the work cycle. Please stop believing that Corporate America is out to GET YOU. That seriously doesn't even make sense if you really stop to think about it and every time you repeat that little motto, it helps to create an environment of distrust and resentment and takes away YOUR ownership of your own life and your own destiny. It makes you a victim. Stop it.
Unless you're an asshole. Then maybe your HR department is out to get you. (I'm kidding. Mostly.)
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Feelings Are STUPID.
I don't trust people very easily. I'm very trusting, but I don't put my actual trust in many people. Does that make sense? I believe people when they tell me shit (almost too much, I'm super gullible), but I don't really tell a lot of people my shit...especially about my feelings. I'll fill out all the stupid Facebook memes you want and update my status 9 times a day, I'll give vague answers to questions via email, or empathize with an employee by using personal anecdotes, but I won't really talk about anything important or how I feel. I'll tell you what I did or what I said, but rarely how I feel. Hell, this here fancy blog is the closest I've ever come to talking about stuff that really matters to me and even then I mostly dance around it, because now I'm all self-conscious since I "know" a bunch of you. There are only a handful of people that I've really opened up to in my life...a handful in MY LIFE and I'm 40, so, you do the math. I've been deeply hurt by almost all of them. Sometimes it's something egregious and unforgivable and sometimes it's just the realization that they're not the person I thought they were. Both scenarios hurt like a sonofabitch and send me to bed with stomach aches and a giant lump in my throat.
I have a stomach ache and a lump in my throat.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Time to Put on My Big Girl Panties
No, this isn't about how I'm gaining weight (although, if I keep buying caramel apples and banana cake & pretending they count as a fruit, then my ballooning weight might be the next entry), it's about me needing to "man up" and get through tomorrow morning and the next few weeks.
My office crush resigned. Yesterday, you'll remember, was No Whining Wednesday, so even though this happened at 10:00, I kept my mouth shut (except for a couple of strongly worded emails to Sarina) about it. It would be sad if he was just my crush, but he's more. In the last year, he's become my friend. He's one of the VERY few people I can talk to and in whom I can confide at work. I can be myself around him and not some robotic HR version of myself. And, I think, he can be himself around me. We camp out in each others offices when shit's going down and we've had it with the staff. On Friday afternoons, we eat chocolate and surf the internet shopping for Movado watches, (which, OMG, do I want one SOOOOO badly [wait, for real, is it 'badly' or 'bad'? Why can I never remember the rules for adverbs?] but yeah, I can't drop $800 on a watch, but ohhh, so shiny!) and bitch about the retarded decisions the senior executives are making. I can call him anytime and say, "Got a minute?" and if he's not in a meeting or on a conference call, he says, "Sure, come on up. Bring chocolate." Or he'll get finished with a particularly aggravating meeting and he'll come to my office, quietly close the door, sit down in the visitor chair and exclaim (in a loud whisper), "FUCKING IDIOT COCKSUCKERS" and then stand up, nod at me, smile and leave the room. We get each other. That's not easy in my position or in his because we always have to be on our best behavior and you never really know who you can trust & a lot of people in upper management are arrogant jerks. I've trusted him since the "Peanu(t)s" incident, I guess, and he's trusted me since the first time he lost his temper about an employee and dropped the F-Bomb and instead of looking shocked or admonishing him, I laughed.
So anyway, I've known about it since yesterday, but wasn't allowed to discuss it with anyone until today and that blew! So when the supervisor called me this morning at 9:03, crying , I started crying and it was just a big ol' crying thing, off and on, for most of the day. Because, in addition to being all kinds of adorable, he's good at his job and replacing him is going to SUH-HUCK and his supervisor is going to have to pick up the slack until a new director is hired and is up to speed. It's a lot of work.
The staff will be told tomorrow morning and I have to go sit there, stoicly, and be the "HR Presence" when it's announced and I can't cry or even register any emotion. My stupid, little, asshole heart is being ripped out right now because I will miss him so much. With him and Jackie both gone, I have no one at work that I can really talk to. No one I can be my obnoxious, snarky, sarcastic self with. I can't talk to anyone when my boss declares that she can't decide who she loves more: Nickelback or Creed...I mean COME ON, I need to be able to laugh with someone about that shit, right?
This was pretty long and rambling and it really boils down to me being a big, whiny, baby, but I needed to get it out. It's been eating at my insides and I thought maybe if I got it out, it would be easier to sit impassively at the meeting tomorrow. If you've read this far and haven't made the "L" for loser sign with your thumb and forefinger, you're a peach. Thanks for that!
So, in conclusion, do any of you know a cute guy with a Master's Degree in Finance who's looking for a job?
My office crush resigned. Yesterday, you'll remember, was No Whining Wednesday, so even though this happened at 10:00, I kept my mouth shut (except for a couple of strongly worded emails to Sarina) about it. It would be sad if he was just my crush, but he's more. In the last year, he's become my friend. He's one of the VERY few people I can talk to and in whom I can confide at work. I can be myself around him and not some robotic HR version of myself. And, I think, he can be himself around me. We camp out in each others offices when shit's going down and we've had it with the staff. On Friday afternoons, we eat chocolate and surf the internet shopping for Movado watches, (which, OMG, do I want one SOOOOO badly [wait, for real, is it 'badly' or 'bad'? Why can I never remember the rules for adverbs?] but yeah, I can't drop $800 on a watch, but ohhh, so shiny!) and bitch about the retarded decisions the senior executives are making. I can call him anytime and say, "Got a minute?" and if he's not in a meeting or on a conference call, he says, "Sure, come on up. Bring chocolate." Or he'll get finished with a particularly aggravating meeting and he'll come to my office, quietly close the door, sit down in the visitor chair and exclaim (in a loud whisper), "FUCKING IDIOT COCKSUCKERS" and then stand up, nod at me, smile and leave the room. We get each other. That's not easy in my position or in his because we always have to be on our best behavior and you never really know who you can trust & a lot of people in upper management are arrogant jerks. I've trusted him since the "Peanu(t)s" incident, I guess, and he's trusted me since the first time he lost his temper about an employee and dropped the F-Bomb and instead of looking shocked or admonishing him, I laughed.
So anyway, I've known about it since yesterday, but wasn't allowed to discuss it with anyone until today and that blew! So when the supervisor called me this morning at 9:03, crying , I started crying and it was just a big ol' crying thing, off and on, for most of the day. Because, in addition to being all kinds of adorable, he's good at his job and replacing him is going to SUH-HUCK and his supervisor is going to have to pick up the slack until a new director is hired and is up to speed. It's a lot of work.
The staff will be told tomorrow morning and I have to go sit there, stoicly, and be the "HR Presence" when it's announced and I can't cry or even register any emotion. My stupid, little, asshole heart is being ripped out right now because I will miss him so much. With him and Jackie both gone, I have no one at work that I can really talk to. No one I can be my obnoxious, snarky, sarcastic self with. I can't talk to anyone when my boss declares that she can't decide who she loves more: Nickelback or Creed...I mean COME ON, I need to be able to laugh with someone about that shit, right?
This was pretty long and rambling and it really boils down to me being a big, whiny, baby, but I needed to get it out. It's been eating at my insides and I thought maybe if I got it out, it would be easier to sit impassively at the meeting tomorrow. If you've read this far and haven't made the "L" for loser sign with your thumb and forefinger, you're a peach. Thanks for that!
So, in conclusion, do any of you know a cute guy with a Master's Degree in Finance who's looking for a job?
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
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!
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!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
I Guess It Was Inevitable...
It appears that I have finally reached the age where I've become invisible to men. I knew it would happen eventually 'cause I've totally seen it happen to other women. I've watched a group of guys crane their necks like prairie dogs when any butterface under 28 walks into the room, but not even turn their heads slightly when an average looking 40ish woman walks up to the bar next to them. I just didn't expect it to happen to me so soon! I've always been tiny, moderately cute, with big boobs and a big smile. I've never been "hot", but I've always been kind of cute. It's not like I ever had guys swarming around me or fighting to buy me a drink, but I've grown accustomed to being overtly and covertly checked out. Yeah, so, not anymore, I guess.
Yesterday was Jackie's last day. As if that wasn't sucktacular enough, last night I had to go for drinks & dinner with the obnoxious VP, two of the Directors (yes, one of them is this guy and no, THANKFULLY, one of them *wasn't* this one), the head of HR, my boss and Jackie. The word excruciating is too mild. Christ on a cracker! Do you think executive-types have any idea how preposterously self-important they sound? Do you think they listen to each other and think "Oh man, I can totally top your self-involved, self-congratulatory boring-ass story!"?
::Tangent::
A couple months ago the VP held a "Come to Jesus" meeting with the staff and reminded them of the economy and how important it is to make the office more efficient and blah, blah, blah. He cut the shit out of the supply order budget and eliminated non-essential things like raises (ok, so technically Corporate put the kibosh on raises, but it makes my rant sound better if it came from him directly, so, deal with it) and employee relations stuff like parties and the summer picnic. Everyone was fairly supportive because no one wants to lose their job because we were buying too many highlighters and scotch tape, so the belt-tightening didn't elicit much complaint or whining from the normally whiny staff. Last night, the VP & his gang of ass-kissers are talking about redecorating the Executive Conference Room. "You know, really making it the centerpiece of the office. When execs and management from other offices come to town, we should be able to represent ourselves with a Grade A conference room that reflects our professionalism." Really, dude? How do you think that's gonna' go over with the $11/hour employees who can't order fucking paperclips? Do you think they're not going to notice that the summer picnic isn't being held in the shiny new Executive Conference Room? Whatever. Shit like this is why everyone hates you, jerkface.
::End Tangent::
Sorry, sorry, sorry - got off track a bit. Anyway, the restaurant we went to for drinks is a swanky little place near our office downtown. It was early when we got there, 4:00ish. By 5:15 or so, the place was full of people. Predominantly men people. Business men. Button down shirts, ties, polished shoes. I'm going to guess mostly between the ages of 26 - 36. They stood in groups of 4 or 5 and all had some sort of product in their hair. In the days of yore, this would be exactly my crowd of mens. I do not like scruffy. I do not like sloppy. I do not like shaggy. I enjoy a man in a pressed shirt & tie, wearing dress slacks with a cuff. I make pretty good money and frankly, I prefer being with a guy who does too and doesn't need me to pay for the whole pizza because he "doesn't get paid until next Thursday and I gotta' get my car out of the shop, so I only have $3.67 in change until then. You don't mind, do ya' babe? I promise I'll pay you back next week and by the way, can you loan me a few bucks for smokes?" No...just, no.
Most days after work, I look busted. BUH-STED. I'm not even gonna' try to deny it. However, because I knew I had to attend this shindig from Hell, instead of tennis shoes & an "I give up and don't care anymore" baggy, non-cleavagy top, I wore a fitted, summery blouse with my jeans & heels. I even put on colored lip gloss, which I rarely wear and added an extra dab of concealer to my woefully dark under eye circles. I looked cute, but not at all whoreish. (YES, I'm getting to the point. Shut-up!) During the pre-dinner drinks, I probably went to the ladies' room 4 times (A. As previously mentioned, my bladder is the size of a walnut and B. Sometimes I just needed to get the fuck away from their incessant blathering for a few minutes). On my way to and from the powder room, I came into contact with approximately 23 men. Not one looked at me. Not ONE. Not a single guy smiled at me or nodded "hello" or even bothered to get the hell out of my way. I had to squeeze past 2 who wouldn't even acknowledge my existence enough to move a half-step to their side to let me pass them.
I'm not sure how I feel about this. Again, please understand, it's not like men were crawling all over me when I was younger, I don't mean to give that impression, but to be practically invisible is a brand-spanking new phenomenon to me. It makes me sad that this is the rest of my life from now on. I have officially become an old broad. The kind that "still looks pretty good for her age" or the one that "was probably smokin' when she was young". And unless I dress like a slutty Cougar or start hanging out where they serve an Early Bird Special, I don't think there's really much I can do about it. Blerg.
Do any of you have a grandpa you want to hook me up with?
Yesterday was Jackie's last day. As if that wasn't sucktacular enough, last night I had to go for drinks & dinner with the obnoxious VP, two of the Directors (yes, one of them is this guy and no, THANKFULLY, one of them *wasn't* this one), the head of HR, my boss and Jackie. The word excruciating is too mild. Christ on a cracker! Do you think executive-types have any idea how preposterously self-important they sound? Do you think they listen to each other and think "Oh man, I can totally top your self-involved, self-congratulatory boring-ass story!"?
::Tangent::
A couple months ago the VP held a "Come to Jesus" meeting with the staff and reminded them of the economy and how important it is to make the office more efficient and blah, blah, blah. He cut the shit out of the supply order budget and eliminated non-essential things like raises (ok, so technically Corporate put the kibosh on raises, but it makes my rant sound better if it came from him directly, so, deal with it) and employee relations stuff like parties and the summer picnic. Everyone was fairly supportive because no one wants to lose their job because we were buying too many highlighters and scotch tape, so the belt-tightening didn't elicit much complaint or whining from the normally whiny staff. Last night, the VP & his gang of ass-kissers are talking about redecorating the Executive Conference Room. "You know, really making it the centerpiece of the office. When execs and management from other offices come to town, we should be able to represent ourselves with a Grade A conference room that reflects our professionalism." Really, dude? How do you think that's gonna' go over with the $11/hour employees who can't order fucking paperclips? Do you think they're not going to notice that the summer picnic isn't being held in the shiny new Executive Conference Room? Whatever. Shit like this is why everyone hates you, jerkface.
::End Tangent::
Sorry, sorry, sorry - got off track a bit. Anyway, the restaurant we went to for drinks is a swanky little place near our office downtown. It was early when we got there, 4:00ish. By 5:15 or so, the place was full of people. Predominantly men people. Business men. Button down shirts, ties, polished shoes. I'm going to guess mostly between the ages of 26 - 36. They stood in groups of 4 or 5 and all had some sort of product in their hair. In the days of yore, this would be exactly my crowd of mens. I do not like scruffy. I do not like sloppy. I do not like shaggy. I enjoy a man in a pressed shirt & tie, wearing dress slacks with a cuff. I make pretty good money and frankly, I prefer being with a guy who does too and doesn't need me to pay for the whole pizza because he "doesn't get paid until next Thursday and I gotta' get my car out of the shop, so I only have $3.67 in change until then. You don't mind, do ya' babe? I promise I'll pay you back next week and by the way, can you loan me a few bucks for smokes?" No...just, no.
Most days after work, I look busted. BUH-STED. I'm not even gonna' try to deny it. However, because I knew I had to attend this shindig from Hell, instead of tennis shoes & an "I give up and don't care anymore" baggy, non-cleavagy top, I wore a fitted, summery blouse with my jeans & heels. I even put on colored lip gloss, which I rarely wear and added an extra dab of concealer to my woefully dark under eye circles. I looked cute, but not at all whoreish. (YES, I'm getting to the point. Shut-up!) During the pre-dinner drinks, I probably went to the ladies' room 4 times (A. As previously mentioned, my bladder is the size of a walnut and B. Sometimes I just needed to get the fuck away from their incessant blathering for a few minutes). On my way to and from the powder room, I came into contact with approximately 23 men. Not one looked at me. Not ONE. Not a single guy smiled at me or nodded "hello" or even bothered to get the hell out of my way. I had to squeeze past 2 who wouldn't even acknowledge my existence enough to move a half-step to their side to let me pass them.
I'm not sure how I feel about this. Again, please understand, it's not like men were crawling all over me when I was younger, I don't mean to give that impression, but to be practically invisible is a brand-spanking new phenomenon to me. It makes me sad that this is the rest of my life from now on. I have officially become an old broad. The kind that "still looks pretty good for her age" or the one that "was probably smokin' when she was young". And unless I dress like a slutty Cougar or start hanging out where they serve an Early Bird Special, I don't think there's really much I can do about it. Blerg.
Do any of you have a grandpa you want to hook me up with?
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Game, Set, Match.
The Biggest Douche Competition is over. It was a blowout.
Lainey - 1.5
Jackie - Eleventy Million
Jackie put in her 2 weeks notice today.
She accepted a job with the city. I can't blame her. It's a great job with awesome benefits, but it just breaks my heart into tiny pieces.
Lainey - 1.5
Jackie - Eleventy Million
Jackie put in her 2 weeks notice today.
She accepted a job with the city. I can't blame her. It's a great job with awesome benefits, but it just breaks my heart into tiny pieces.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Crabbypants McGee
So, I might be taking a break from Pajiba for a bit. It's just not that fun for me anymore. Ever since the April Fool's prank, I'm just not loving it. I'm still a bit bitter and kind of hurt, I guess. I feel like the little community that was created was destroyed. Not just destroyed by the staff, but also by the nameless "me too-ers" who were brave enough to chime in about feeling excluded, but not brave enough to ever post so they could be included. Logic like that confounds me. The timing of it was so crappy, too. We had all just come together to say goodbye to 'Manda and everyone was feeling all Kumbaya and shit and then, *splat*. Anything for a joke, right?
The regular old time crew, socalled, Sarina, Julie, PissBoy, jM, jamiepants and others I'm not remembering right now, appear to have stepped back into the shadows - oh, Shadows of Dakaron, that's who I forgot! - and it's a few new people and a few of us regulars and we're trying so hard to not let anything go off topic or offend anyone lurking that it's not really organic or entertaining to me anymore. Maybe I'm just cranky in general and need a nap.
Regardless, I miss the goofy. I miss the zombies. I miss SKITZ! And while it did irritate me on occasion, (and yes, I participated on occasion as well) I miss the sexual banter. The cheesy flirtations and the downright dirty flirty. I miss the silliness. I miss my friends.
This probably didn't warrant an announcement, but I'm really rather bummed about it, so I figured I'd share. Maybe this is all a bunch of word vomit and I'll change my mind tomorrow. Who knows? I may still read a bit when I'm supposed to be working, because seriously, how much work can they expect me to actually do? But, I don't think I'll be hanging out there as much. If anything super fun pops up, let me know, 'k? I'm still on the Facespace and visiting all of your blogs and I still love you all to pieces, but for now anyway, I'm gonna' find something else to do with my screwing around on the internet time.
The regular old time crew, socalled, Sarina, Julie, PissBoy, jM, jamiepants and others I'm not remembering right now, appear to have stepped back into the shadows - oh, Shadows of Dakaron, that's who I forgot! - and it's a few new people and a few of us regulars and we're trying so hard to not let anything go off topic or offend anyone lurking that it's not really organic or entertaining to me anymore. Maybe I'm just cranky in general and need a nap.
Regardless, I miss the goofy. I miss the zombies. I miss SKITZ! And while it did irritate me on occasion, (and yes, I participated on occasion as well) I miss the sexual banter. The cheesy flirtations and the downright dirty flirty. I miss the silliness. I miss my friends.
This probably didn't warrant an announcement, but I'm really rather bummed about it, so I figured I'd share. Maybe this is all a bunch of word vomit and I'll change my mind tomorrow. Who knows? I may still read a bit when I'm supposed to be working, because seriously, how much work can they expect me to actually do? But, I don't think I'll be hanging out there as much. If anything super fun pops up, let me know, 'k? I'm still on the Facespace and visiting all of your blogs and I still love you all to pieces, but for now anyway, I'm gonna' find something else to do with my screwing around on the internet time.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
And Yet Somehow the World Keeps on Spinning
I attended a funeral on the Internet today. For a woman I never met. For a woman who touched my life and the lives of hundreds (thousands?) of other people who never met her. She wasn’t a celebrity. She wasn’t famous. She was just a funny, smart, sassmouthed woman who was trying her best to raise her son, love her husband, be a good person and beat a deadly disease. She was an inspiration. I’m sorry that she’s gone and I’m sorry that her son will grow up without her there. I’m grateful that I got to “know” her for a short time.
I tried explaining this to my boss and to one of my friends. Neither got it. It should be said that neither judged me, but they didn’t understand. I probably wouldn’t have either if I didn’t “know” these wonderful, wonderful people. You, wonderful, wonderful people.
I’ve never been to a funeral/memorial service on the Internet before. It was cathartic. It was different and new, yet very familiar and intimate and sad all the same. The only difference was that I could cry openly and not have to put on my brave face. I felt like I was surrounded by friends and people who loved her and wanted to celebrate her life.
I didn’t know Amanda very well and won’t cheapen her memory by trying to pretend that we were friends. We weren’t. We were Facebook friends, for whatever that’s worth and I read her blog, but we didn’t exchange correspondence. However, her life and her passing affected me deeply. I’ve been grieving for her and her family all week. Knowing what lies ahead for her little boy. Knowing what it’s like to grow up without a mother and empathizing with how hard it must have been for her knowing that she had to leave him. She made a huge mark on this world. I hope her husband and son and parents are able to get some comfort from that someday. I hope her son will always know just how cool his mama was.
See ya' later, ‘Manda. You’re so cool. You’re so cool. You’re so cool.
I tried explaining this to my boss and to one of my friends. Neither got it. It should be said that neither judged me, but they didn’t understand. I probably wouldn’t have either if I didn’t “know” these wonderful, wonderful people. You, wonderful, wonderful people.
I’ve never been to a funeral/memorial service on the Internet before. It was cathartic. It was different and new, yet very familiar and intimate and sad all the same. The only difference was that I could cry openly and not have to put on my brave face. I felt like I was surrounded by friends and people who loved her and wanted to celebrate her life.
I didn’t know Amanda very well and won’t cheapen her memory by trying to pretend that we were friends. We weren’t. We were Facebook friends, for whatever that’s worth and I read her blog, but we didn’t exchange correspondence. However, her life and her passing affected me deeply. I’ve been grieving for her and her family all week. Knowing what lies ahead for her little boy. Knowing what it’s like to grow up without a mother and empathizing with how hard it must have been for her knowing that she had to leave him. She made a huge mark on this world. I hope her husband and son and parents are able to get some comfort from that someday. I hope her son will always know just how cool his mama was.
See ya' later, ‘Manda. You’re so cool. You’re so cool. You’re so cool.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Fear
My dad had a massive heart attack Friday night. He had the type they call the Widow Maker. Complete blockage of the left ventricle or something. I don’t know. Despite my near religious viewing of “House”, I’m not actually a doctor. Evidently, people usually die from this type of heart attack (or Miocardial Infarction if you’re feeling fancy) before they can receive medical attention. Luckily, this wasn’t the case with my dad. He probably had a heart attack last week as well. He was out in the cold, walking briskly and felt extreme pain and tension in his chest. He attributed it to the really cold weather, sat down for a few minutes and caught his breath. He blew it off as nothing. But, this one happened while he was sitting on the couch in his 74-degree apartment. He knew this one wasn’t nothing. He’ll be having a quadruple bypass in the morning.
My mom died when I was 6. I don’t usually advertise this, but if someone asks, I’ll tell them. My greatest fear has always been my dad dying, too. I know he’ll die someday. I’m probably more aware of that fact than most people are about their parents, because I grew up knowing that it was always not just a possibility, but an actuality. I almost certainly have an unnatural preoccupation with loved ones dying. When I don’t hear from someone, I automatically assume the worst. The more I love them, the greater that fear becomes. I’ve driven people mad with this. I’m sure it’s about to get worse. So, for all of you out there who are supposed to call me at appointed times, please do it so I won’t assume that you’re dead in a ditch, ok? Thanks.
I don’t have siblings. I didn’t grow up with my family, so I don’t know my cousins and aunts and uncles. My dad is all I have. He’s it. He’s my family. He’s my friend. He’s the one person in my life who has always been there. Always had my back. Always told me when I was being a fuckheaded ‘tard and always brings me Diet Coke with Splenda. He’s my go-to person. He came to California to drive my car and me to Ohio because I asked him to. Who does that? Yes, he gets on my nerves (and I’m fairly certain I get on his just as often). Yes, he’s technologically challenged. Yes, he’s sarcastic and kind of a dick sometimes. BUT, he’s also extremely thoughtful. Extremely funny. Extremely generous and would give anyone in need the shirt off his back. Literally. He’s LITERALLY given someone his coat. Twice. In the middle of winter.
I’m not ready for him to be gone. I’m just not. I’m not equipped to be all alone. I like being alone, but not that alone. The fear is overwhelming at times and the thought of him not being there is more than I can take right now. I just can’t. I can’t conceive of what that type of aloneness must be like. I’m afraid. Down to my toes, deep in my soul, afraid. The dread is heavy. I try to joke and play online and bullshit my way though this, but I am terrified. And sad. And feeling very, very alone.
My mom died when I was 6. I don’t usually advertise this, but if someone asks, I’ll tell them. My greatest fear has always been my dad dying, too. I know he’ll die someday. I’m probably more aware of that fact than most people are about their parents, because I grew up knowing that it was always not just a possibility, but an actuality. I almost certainly have an unnatural preoccupation with loved ones dying. When I don’t hear from someone, I automatically assume the worst. The more I love them, the greater that fear becomes. I’ve driven people mad with this. I’m sure it’s about to get worse. So, for all of you out there who are supposed to call me at appointed times, please do it so I won’t assume that you’re dead in a ditch, ok? Thanks.
I don’t have siblings. I didn’t grow up with my family, so I don’t know my cousins and aunts and uncles. My dad is all I have. He’s it. He’s my family. He’s my friend. He’s the one person in my life who has always been there. Always had my back. Always told me when I was being a fuckheaded ‘tard and always brings me Diet Coke with Splenda. He’s my go-to person. He came to California to drive my car and me to Ohio because I asked him to. Who does that? Yes, he gets on my nerves (and I’m fairly certain I get on his just as often). Yes, he’s technologically challenged. Yes, he’s sarcastic and kind of a dick sometimes. BUT, he’s also extremely thoughtful. Extremely funny. Extremely generous and would give anyone in need the shirt off his back. Literally. He’s LITERALLY given someone his coat. Twice. In the middle of winter.
I’m not ready for him to be gone. I’m just not. I’m not equipped to be all alone. I like being alone, but not that alone. The fear is overwhelming at times and the thought of him not being there is more than I can take right now. I just can’t. I can’t conceive of what that type of aloneness must be like. I’m afraid. Down to my toes, deep in my soul, afraid. The dread is heavy. I try to joke and play online and bullshit my way though this, but I am terrified. And sad. And feeling very, very alone.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Melancholy Moment
This isn't my normal kind of post, not that I really have a regular type of post. Shit, I haven't even updated this thing in 2 months, but it's screaming in my head to come out. I'll probably delete it later, but I thought I'd get it out for now. The holidays suck for me normally, but this year, they seem to suck a tidge more. I'm really hoping this malaise doesn't last until January.
I don’t know why I still love him. He’s a shit person. He never really loved me and he subtly (and sometimes, not so subtly), never let me forget it. He made me feel bad about myself without ever saying a word. He was killing time with me and I knew it. I wanted it to be different, but it wasn’t and it never would be. And yet, I still love him. I still miss him. I still want him back. What the fuck is wrong with me that I would want that? What is wrong with me that I miss someone I never had? 4 years together, but I never really had him.
He didn’t abuse me. He wasn't mean. He didn't yell. He didn’t mistreat me. He just kept me at arms length. He just didn't love me.
I still dream about him. In fact, more now than I did when we were together and more now than I did when he first left. The dreams are usually the same. I can smell him; his shampoo and deodorant and soap, the slight hint of cigarette smoke. Usually, he apologizes to me. Usually, I forgive him. I always touch his hair. Doesn’t matter if it even fits in the dream, I always manage to touch his hair. One time, he wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in the back of my neck, fingers laced with mine and he said he was sorry. He told me he missed me. He said all the things I wanted to hear for so long. I woke up crying and I could still smell him. And feel his breath on my neck. And I missed him. GOD, I missed him.
Most days I’m fine. It’s been 8 months; I should hope I’d mostly be fine by now! But some days, especially this time of year, are harder than others. I miss cooking for us. I miss buying frilly lingerie to entice him. I miss him fixing my car or taking out the trash or just changing a light bulb for me and then teasing me about being so short. I miss him burning CDs for me and I miss buying him his favorite movies and eating 4 different kinds of ice cream, because we couldn't pick just one, while we watched them together. I miss his sarcastic and hilarious texts. I miss feeling his hand on my hip.
There’s so much I don’t miss. SOOO much. But sometimes, like tonight, I just miss his presence.
I don’t know why I still love him. He’s a shit person. He never really loved me and he subtly (and sometimes, not so subtly), never let me forget it. He made me feel bad about myself without ever saying a word. He was killing time with me and I knew it. I wanted it to be different, but it wasn’t and it never would be. And yet, I still love him. I still miss him. I still want him back. What the fuck is wrong with me that I would want that? What is wrong with me that I miss someone I never had? 4 years together, but I never really had him.
He didn’t abuse me. He wasn't mean. He didn't yell. He didn’t mistreat me. He just kept me at arms length. He just didn't love me.
I still dream about him. In fact, more now than I did when we were together and more now than I did when he first left. The dreams are usually the same. I can smell him; his shampoo and deodorant and soap, the slight hint of cigarette smoke. Usually, he apologizes to me. Usually, I forgive him. I always touch his hair. Doesn’t matter if it even fits in the dream, I always manage to touch his hair. One time, he wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in the back of my neck, fingers laced with mine and he said he was sorry. He told me he missed me. He said all the things I wanted to hear for so long. I woke up crying and I could still smell him. And feel his breath on my neck. And I missed him. GOD, I missed him.
Most days I’m fine. It’s been 8 months; I should hope I’d mostly be fine by now! But some days, especially this time of year, are harder than others. I miss cooking for us. I miss buying frilly lingerie to entice him. I miss him fixing my car or taking out the trash or just changing a light bulb for me and then teasing me about being so short. I miss him burning CDs for me and I miss buying him his favorite movies and eating 4 different kinds of ice cream, because we couldn't pick just one, while we watched them together. I miss his sarcastic and hilarious texts. I miss feeling his hand on my hip.
There’s so much I don’t miss. SOOO much. But sometimes, like tonight, I just miss his presence.
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