I'm in Mourning...Of My Life

For the past few weeks I've been clothing myself in an all-black attire.

At first, I joked I must secretly be a New Yorker, or at least I would fit in well in the Big Apple that week. Week two came along and the Texas weather was still in the 70s and 80s; yet every morning I was draping myself in a pair of black pants or leggings, or a black skirt and a top, or better yet a dress, (the look always completed with a loose fitting sweater), like it was the most logical thing in the world. A co-worker even told me that all I needed was a pillbox hat and I would have the 1950s WWII widow look down-packed.

It wasn't until week 3 trudged along, that I started to sincerely question my compulsory use of the color black in my wardrobe. And in case you are wondering, yes, week 4/today/Monday I woke up at 7:53 AM (7 minutes till I am supposed to be at work) and saw no other option but a black dress, heels and sweater. Even my underwear which I tried, and failed (a couple of times), to step into, while wearing said heels, is black.

There is either a deep-seeded issue or a mixture of factors that is causing my vestment malfunction. Surely.

One: Black is slimming. I must just feel fat...Too simple. I'll dismiss it for now.

Two: Over the past few months I have been grappling with the decision of staying in Texas. My full-time cubicle job footing my bill to travel home or go out and get drunk, both of which I increasingly live for.

Speaking of "living for" things. The aphorism "I live for the weekend" has been ringing a little too true in my life. In fact, I haven't written anything since June and when I started writing a blog at the end of August, I got this far:

"I got laid last night.

Or at least I thought I did when I woke up. Then I realized I just had the most detailed, realistic sex dream of my life."

OK. So worse yet, I'm living for my dreams, which frankly, since that one, haven't been so great. They have been more of a nightmare. Yes, I know I'm channeling Beyonce a little bit right now. And, no. I don't like it.

Saturday night I stayed in and had a dream that I- get this- "blacked-out" a year of my life. As in, I just came to all of a sudden and I was sitting in my cubicle and a year had passed and I had blacked-out the whole thing. It was like Well Ferrell in "Old School" and I even used this simile in my dream as a means of explaining my condition. Except instead of blacking-out several well-formed sentences in a debate against James Carville, I blacked out 12 months of my mundane life and came to thinking "what happened?" Thematic right?

Let me try and do a better job of explaining my situation. I have a decent-paying, health-insurance-covering "job" in a terrible economy and that's where the pro side of the argument ends. Cons- My college degree is going to waste completely, if it wasn't a total waste to begin with, as I find myself getting more stupid by the day. Case in point: I'm using scenes from "Old School" to describe things IN MY DREAMS. Also, under cons, a monkey could do my job, i hate my life, etc.

It is evident I have become esurient for some sort of passion in my life.

Oh, and I just went to thesarus.com, entered in the word "squelch," since it is what my job is doing to my will to live, and I shit you not synonyms are listed as: "black out, censure, crush, extinguish, kill, muffle, oppress, quelch, quench, repress, settle, shush, sit on, smother, squash, stifle, strangle" and, last but not least, "thwart".

OK so all this bitching about my wearing black and blacking-out has a point. I refuse to live my life in mourning. Since I'm going hungry mentally, barely living in a cubicle, getting by on scraps alone, I have to make a change.

Ladies and gentleman, I'm over it.

"You Look Tired"

Thanks. Thanks a lot.

In this past week, the week of June 15th, 2009, the longest week I can remember in a very long time, I have received numerous comments on my appearance.

Monday

A chipper co-worker asked me: "Did you get some sun this weekend?" Well, yes. I did "get" a little bit of sun. A couple days ago I went for a 8 mile run in sweltering 100 degree weather. The sun was beating down on me and consequently, I achieved a sports bra tan and, technically, a sunburn. A sunburn that had subsided substantially. Or, so I thought. I responded that yes, I was out in the sun for a couple of hours this weekend. To which another co-worker chimed in, "You ARE burned!"

Thanks.

Tuesday

Drinks with a brigade of dorkish characters. Allow me to paint a picture: At one point I was sitting bitch in a PT Cruiser wedged between the driver's recently dry-cleaned suits and a cat-loving, French-speaking, briefcase-toting law student named "Herschel," while Sisquo's The Thong Song blared from an iPod shuffle as we tore down North Central Expressway. The table conversation at the bar was dominated by Tyler Florence/Applebee's jokes, ("I have made perhaps my greatest creation!") and at one point someone said "motor-boarding" by mistake in place of "motor-boating", which brings up a whole host of issues, and possible terrorist affiliations.

Regardless, Hershel made an offhand comment that, surely, I would have a deeper understanding about whatever he was saying, because I was a swimmer.

Am I? Did I tell you that? Or did you just say that because...

"Aren't you? You have broad shoulders. Sorry I'm honest when I'm drunk," said Hershel.

THANKS.

Wednesday

I call a co-worker to ask a work question. Instead of the usual "Hello?" I am met with resounding laughter. Upon inquiry, I was informed that this person overheard me yesterday talking on the phone in the bathroom. "I recognized your voice and I thought to myself, she can be quiet!"

Apparently my hushed tones when conversing with someone in the bathroom were quite astounding to this person who, (indirectly), called me loud. (This particular accusation is a pet peeve of mine).

I am loud. DEAL with it.

At this point, I have been called loud, sunburned, and broad-shouldered, so bring it.

Thursday (Today)

"You look tired. Like you're not quite here yet."

"Yeah. How about you have your coffee before you come get coffee? You are a hazard on the roads."

Ok people...I know I'm not a morning person, but I did the unusual today! I actually showered, dried my hair and put on makeup. Guess that's not fooling anyone.

Thanks again.

So, I'm a loud, sun-burned, broad-shouldered, admittedly morning impaired individual. I realize I actually am these things. But, obviously I'm developing a bit of a complex here...Thinking back on this week, an additional commentary is created in my mind. I could swear someone on my run called out "LEFT!" and added "pudgy" under his breath. I hope I made that part up. If not, let's add it to the list.

To those who have contributed to my self-confidence this week: What is it about not really knowing me that has allowed you to make blunt remarks about my appearance and demeanor?

I hope I'm not guilty of calling other people out to this extent.

If not a complex, at the very least, I have developed some level of social anxiety. The older I get, the more I will go out of my way to avoid strangers. I become visibly disraught when I have to make small talk. I avoid crowds like the plague. Taking the elevator? Not if I don't know you. I'll take the stairs.

If there is a moral to this story - or modern-day fable - if I may, it is that as much as I am developing an aversion to strangers, I am gaining a futher appreciation of my friends.

Case in point, one who just said: "Well, I told you the other day how hot you looked. So make sure to mention those of us who think you're a babe."

Thank you. And this time, I mean it.

Out of Office

Today is Monday, May 18th 2009. I will be out of the office today, due to the impending Apocalypse. At this time I will be unavailable to return any phone calls, emails, texts, gchats, facebook or myspace messages and wall posts, instant messages of any kind, or make any updates to my twitter. At this juncture I will also not be able to offer advice or feedback on any of the following: members of the opposite sex, relationships, marriage, divorce, separation, unprotected sex or sexual encounters of any kind, infidelities, physical or mental illness, religion, murder or treason. I will also be unable to perform my editing duties to text messages, wall posts, emails, voicemails or anything requiring structuring sentences of any kind. In my absence please contact a voice of reason, a parent, a counselor or best yet, God. If I am able to detain the Apocalypse, I will return at an undetermined time when I have regained my soul and my sanity. Have a nice day!

Hedone

High Maintenance Specialist
Serving DFW & ATL

Office Phrases that Should Be Eliminated: 2009 Edition

(Please see my original post for a little background.)

In these tough economic times, there has been a sudden and unexplained increase in ridiculous office phrases. I have changed jobs, career paths and moved to a new city; yet still, I am haunted daily by catch-phrases that people insist on incorporating into their workplace vernacular.

1)"Per"

The two part sentence, "Per name of a supervisor or boss." can apparently answer any question.

When asking a co-worker why he organized a spontaneous happy hour. He responded to me in an email:

"Per Mary."

This doesn't answer my question at all whatsoever.

The closest imaginable definition of "per" in this context is:

By means of; through.
adv. Informal

So, "By means of Mary you organized a happy hour?" WHAT? PER-haps you should have said, "Because Mary wanted to foster the team attitude of our department by getting everyone drunk." That is an acceptable answer, albeit bullshit.

It also can get you out of almost anything in the work place:

Q: "Why has this advertiser been getting free ads for the past 5 years?"

A: Per the former manager and contract.

Q: "Why didn't you come to work yesterday?"

A: Per my cold.

Q: "Why did you set fire to your cubicle?"

A: Per the declivity of my computer's ability to function.

It can also get you unwarranted things:

Per my friend Bob I will need to take off the next 3 months no questions asked.

Approved.

2)"Offline"

As in: "Lets take that offline."

I'm sorry are we online? Is this dial-up? Where is that awesome sound we used to endure in the 90s? Oh here it is.

This is by far the most offensive office phrase I have ever encountered. During meetings, directors and managers alike make use of this sentence to shut you up or avoid answering a question they don't have the answer to.

This is apparently an acceptable response to a question or concern brought up in a forum designed for questions and concerns, a meeting.

I have determined this offensive phrase to mean: "Lets talk about that later. I do not want to have this conversation in front of everyone because I will look like an ass since I don't have a legitimate answer to your question."

Why didn't you just say so?

3)"Integrity"- While a lovely word meaning:

1. adherence to moral and ethical principles; soundness of moral character; honesty.
2. the state of being whole, entire, or undiminished
3. a sound, unimpaired, or perfect condition,

The word completely loses it's connotation when used as an excuse to make someone adhere to something you are trying to sell.

"No you can't offer your client any sort of concession, we have to stick with the integrity of the program." [designed to rip people off].

Just so we're all clear.

4)"Flexible" and/or "Open Minded"

"We have to be flexible!" and/or "We have to be open-minded!"

These terms also actually exist within fully-functioning sentences. However, it's the context that is disturbing.

My client wants to sell me into the sex trade in South America.

Well, you have to be flexible and open-minded!

5)"Let put on the full court press for Q4."

Let's kill two birds with one stone. There are two office phrases that should be eliminated IMMEDIATELY in this one.

#1 Full Court Press

Really? Where's your whistle? If you insist on making frequent the use of this phrase, go back to the small northern town from whence you came and coach girl's high school basketball.

Q4.

Anyone who uses any of the Q's in an actual conversation should be shot. It doesn't make you sound cool or smart.

6)"Happy Selling"

Who are you kidding? This doesn't deserve an explanation.

7)"World Class"

As in: "Thank you for your world class customer service."

You're welcome. I didn't realize that mere decency in the work place qualified me as the highest caliber of customer service on this planet. Thanks though!

The Office

I've decided to make an addition to my cubicle: a Velcro wall complete with felt versions of inclement weather I can put up to reflect my increasingly bad moods.

Also, I've decided to install a vault at home where I will keep my jack in the box on a pedestal with a spotlight.

That will only be funny to one of the three people who read my blog.

Ok on to the actual point of this blog....What does upper management do????

1) Come up with ridiculous projects such as "vision boarding". Don't mistake our 2 o'clock meeting for an overgrown Pre-K class ready for their nap...Outlook calendar requests have actually been sent out and plans were made in advance to cut pictures out of magazines and put them on poster boards to represent personal and "professional" goals.

Aside: I walked in an hour late to work since I am potentially dying of a sinus infection...or a disease where mucus overtakes my body...is that cystic fibrosis? Great. Can you tell I'm a hypochondriac?

Anyways, I walk in and my superior is carrying a multitude of poster board for this glorious project we have been hearing about for a week now. It's actually happening.

2) Ridiculous things like this: My boss's boss is a woman who sends out a couple of hard-hitting business-minded emails sporadically throughout the month. One such email is birthdays and anniversaries in the office! It includes some sad formatting to let us know that Gerald is 52 and there are no anniversaries of anyone working here because everyone quits or gets fired. Secondly, I receive a semi-weekly document on Leadership. Last week was "Week #17". This week is "Week #9". Regardless each week there is some document in my inbox on "leadership" this person has dedicated themselves to trolling the Internet for.

What a waste of time.

The Real World

Last night I started a sentence with "In the real world..." ("As opposed to the fake world?" I thought to myself as I said it.) Apparently.

        "In the real world your nose itches when someone's talking about you!" I exclaimed.

        "In the real world??? Oh and it's actually your ear." A grumpy dinner associate rebuttled.

        "Yes the real world. And it's both your ear AND your nose" I said.

This sort of statement is akin to a guy exclaiming, "If I were a guy...!" Or perhaps something an individual with access to an alternate universe would say. Access which I, unfortuntely, do not have.

Lets talk about the "real world." The fact that I have a parallel universe in my mind is lost on the rest of those in the real world. In my parallel universe things are ideal. I sometimes escape into it with exceptional moments in time. Waking up at the beach for instance...looking out over the ocean...totally tranquil. A good friend once told me I have two personas, the beach me and the real world me. Just guess which one is more fun to be around.

The real world I spend most of my time is quite a drastic change from the world I wish to permanently reside in.

The real world is running late wherever you go. Spilling the entire contents of your wallet into the crevices of your car. Realizing several grapes and pieces of honeydew from a day-old fruit cup have been dispersed throughout your giant purse, complete with a small hairball from your brush.

Mornings go a little differently as well. Blackberries start souding off with various alarming sounds to "WAKE UP" and join the masses in the Real. World. Your insane cat is jumping all over you, scratching your bed partner who starts bleeding on the pillow and sometimes you accidentally empty the entire contents of a drawer that hasn't been opened in a couple of years. You're hungover. You can't decide what to wear and you can't function without coffee. Which you would spill anyways.
(A theme perhaps?)

Spillage in the ideal world isn't as much of an issue. While lounging on the beach you spill a pina colada all over the sand and your tanned midsection. Laugh it off and run into the ocean to get off the sweet sticky drink with that large body of salty water. A spilled drink won't disrupt your day in any way. Things are peaceful and serene. You have no where to be. No time constraints and you aren't running late anywhere. You're never hungover because you're perpetually tipsy or sleeping it off.

I was once told that "time isn't for everyone." It certainly isn't for me.

But, despite that blasted time, exceptional moments still exist in the real world. It's getting presents from all your co-workers, going for a run in unseasonably warm weather right before dusk, getting an unexpected package and going home for Christmas. It's moments like those, glimpses from the ideal, that keep me going in this topsy turvy crazy beautiful real world.

Wednesday Morning Ponderings

First of all, any place of employment that includes a diner that will prepare you a breakfast taco in the morning is all right in my book.


Secondly, my stomach may not be rumbling, but the wheels are turning...
The main reason for this post is I have a fear I need to discuss. Why, you ask, might a 23-year-old, fun-loving girl such as myself have any fears? Oh I don't know maybe because, as a someecard so wonderfully sums up:



It's a nagging fear really. Like the drone of a mosquito or fly reverberating in my ear. It only comes into my mind when I hear about another break-up of one of my friend's or I start having arguments with guys I just started hanging out with or I realize I haven't had a boyfriend in forever. Sure I'm young, but I can't help but envision myself following in my crazy aunt's footsteps and never getting married.

This morning I had the following conversation with my friend:

me: so im not getting married till im 40
anonymous: whatev
me: im serious
anonymous:that's depressing
me: i know!!!
anonymous: so are you going to sperm bank for kiddos
me: hahaha
oh yeah
im worried im going to end up like my crazy aunt
who never got married
and i'll just have lots of pets and be everyone else's crazy aunt
that would suck
anonymous: hahahah
that won't happen!
me: i need not have a self-fulfilling prophecy
lets hope not

It was my way of counseling her on her break-up. But in the process it looks like I put my fear into words. I'm. Scared.

To combat the drone of this fear, I'll swat it away with some words of wisdom from my best friend's mom. You see I passed on the aforementioned sommecard in an email to my friend Bons. Subject: so true. She forwarded it to her Mom who responded with the following:

"So sad---and hopefully---not true!! You all simply have not found the right relationship. When you do that one will be successful the ones in the past are simply to get you in shape/ready for the real and right one. So you can identify and be appreciative. If it came easy you wouldn't know the right one! All in good time......Love, Mom"

I'll let this obnoxious mosquito of an idea get away...for now.

Sweaty Strawberry

1)I ate a strawerry this morning that I swear to you tasted like sweat. It was disgusting.
2)My brain is not functioning.
3)The guy that sits two cubicles down looks exactly like Dracula. Where is his cape with a collar? Seriously.
4)I have never been so bored. I think my mild internet addiction has been cured by days spent aimlessly roaming Facebook and gchat.

5) I work with a girl named Jenny and I have to fight the urge to say it like Forrest Gump. JENN-AY.
6) I should not drink knob creek on the rocks.
7) I officially broke one of my toes.

Pigeons v. Penguins

As I walked into work today I prepared myself to inevitably come across the dead pigeon thats been laying on the curb for the past 3 days. Yesterday I thought to myself, "When will someone dispose of that pigeon? It's sickening me!"

Today I was surprised to see the decomposing pigeon had vanished completely. Thank god. They must have swept it up in one of those street cleaning vehicles you see so rarely.

All this internal dialogue on pigeons got me thinking. I propose we replace pigeons with penguins. I would much rather see a brigade of penguins on my way to work than a cluster of pigeons. I mean, pigeons are really just rats with wings, in terms of the various diseases they carry. They are unappealing to the eye. They can fly...they just choose not to. They all seem to have a serious weight problem, no fear of humans and a scavenging demeanor that is very off-setting.

On the other hand, people love penguins. Penguins, although actually incapable of flight, really make their look work for them. As very appealing and interesting creatures, people have made various documentaries on penguins. People also frequently allude that penguins can sing. Penguins may even have "something up their sleeve," as exhibited in the film Madagascar.

The Wikipedia article on the film says "The Madagascar Penguins...are a group of four penguins who believe they are either spies and/or gangsters. Though they all have different abilities, they are all skilled in gymnastics and martial arts. They also starred in The Madagascar Penguins in a Christmas Caper, a short film directed by Gary Trousdale and written by Michael Lachance."

Penguins also frequently make the news. CNN had a video and lengthy article on a recent rescue mission for some penguins that were lost.

In conclusion, it would put everyone in a good mood to deal with penguins in the morning.

Relationship Woes

Due to popular demand, I need to cover another subject today.

In fact, one random thought I was going to cram into my blog from 20 minutes ago was LDRs. You may be wondering, "What on Earth is a LDR?" A LDR is the dreadful "Long Distance Relationship". A LDR, like a STD, should be avoided at all costs. And that is me speaking from experience. Didn't think I should throw these words of wisdom on top of my ramblings on pigs, rashes and my morning ineptitude.

One of my 35 cousins told me this morning how much she hated it when her boyfriend leaves on Monday. She is currently suffering from a LDR. Some keynote symptoms include: emotional loss, heartache, disorientation and a general disdain for the real world. If you have 2 or more of these symptoms you may be suffering from Stage 3 of a LDR.

A Briefing on Stages of an LDR:

• Stage 1: You like someone, talk to someone frequently even though you are aware they do not live near you. Against common sense you ignore this fact. Stage 1 is "risky behavior" and leaves you with a high chance for developing a Stage 2 LDR.


• Stage 2: Delirium. This can work. Sure it can! This Stage is one of the hardest stages to go through or witness someone else go through. Physical symptoms can be traumatizing. Symptoms include: perma-grin, weight loss, manic episodes, nervousness and delusional thoughts.


• Stage 3: Doubt. I went over the symptoms of Stage 3 a moment ago.


• Stage 4*: A Stage 4 LDR is very serious and should not be taken lightly. It can be ruinous to the central nervous system and leave a wake of depression in its midst even if cured. Treatment can be long and painful.

*Women are much more severely impacted by a Stage 4 LDR. The reasons for this remain a medical mystery.

OK. After covering LDRs I would like to move on to a somewhat lighter topic, but it is still a problematic condition that deserves to be noted.

It is a male condition. For short we will call it TTGFG. (Taking the Girlfriend for Granted). Men are very strange beings. When a man is first interested in a woman he pursues her vigorously. After winning her over with his charm, wit, dedication, loyalty and affection, he then enters the dreaded comfort zone and stops trying to impress his mate. This can lead to a UBU (Ugly Break Up), which are very unpleasant and can affect both men and women. I am taking suggestions on how to avoid TTGFG syndrome or a resulting UBU.

Be careful folks. It's a dangerous world we live in.

Random Thoughts

My friend looks exactly like Sarah Palin. I'm just saying.

My cousin is having a baby at the end of November. This excites me greatly. Except for the fact that she will technically be my second cousin. That is boring and not nearly exciting as having a niece, which is what I will consider her.

I CANNOT get ready in the morning/get to work on time. Seriously. I have to be here at 8 am and I woke up at 6:30 am, showered, dressed, made coffee and my lunch and it was 7:50 am. You may wonder, was I moving in slow motion? I myself am curious. As soon as I left my apartment, I successfully spilled coffee everywhere. But it was an especially talented moment, as I pulled off a sloshing-while-turning maneuver causing me to try and stand up while driving to avoid sitting in a pool of wasted caffeine. At least I'm wearing brown pants. I then missed my exit and in the process found a way to avoid traffic lights completely during my 2 mile commute. So I guess it worked out. Except for the fact that my hair was still wet and un-brushed, I was wearing no make up and I cannot compete with the perfect girl who has a different designer suit every day. My supervisor even made some comment under her breath about a hairdryer. Guess I will have to start getting up at 6 am to get to work by 8 am. Ridiculous.

I don't really have anything to do at my new reasonably paying job. But surely that will change. I have to remember this isn't like my past "work." As an intern(society's excuse for indentured servitude), Day 1 they throw work at you. Piles and piles of work. They can't wait for you start they have so much work for you. Day 1 of my last torture session, I mean, internship, I was there until 8 pm. Are you joking? I should have quit right then. Lucky for you I now have the time to tell you all about my life as it is today: A fly is buzzing around the office, I keep having loud sneezing outbursts and I accidentally just printed all my personal conversations to the community printer. Amazing. Good thing I noticed.

On another note...(and keeping with the spirit of Halloween)...

Part 2
I have a bone to pick with scientists.

I have a mysterious chest cramp and an equally mysterious rash. I realize this sounds bad, but my point is doctors don't understand A LOT of things. Suuure you can tell me about cellular respiration(or does that only happen in plants?) and you can make a cat glow in the dark, but you can't cure the common cold, or get rid of my sketchy rash. Figure it out.

If you need more unofficial proof on the subject, here you go: Regarding feet, you can't do anything for a broken toe or a sprained ankle and anyone I know who has had surgery on their feet ends up in worse pain than before. Also, I've had the beginnings of what appears to be an ingrown toenail for several years now and I can't help fearing it's going to get infected and I'm going to end up toeless. (That actually happened to someone I've met before and I saw the knub in all it's glory resting on a flip flop. [I feel additional paratheses are required to reenforce that yes, she was wearing flip flops.])

I kind of want a pet pig, preferably one with a heart shaped spot.(See video).



But I have some terms. I want it to stay a piglet. Can we pleaaase figure out how to stop aging or at least slow it down? But just in cute domesticated species. God knows we shouldn't open that can of worms in humanity, and what would that do to the cosmetic surgery industry? Please.

Truisms and Queries

As they come my way...I thought I might share. Expect frequent updates.

1) No one likes your dog except for you. Sorry.

2) Smart cars are overtaking Atlanta.



3) I am jobless.

4) Haunted. It's how you can feel about past relationships.

5) Speaking of relationships...Who comes up with the list of turn ons and turn offs on Match.com ? They are ridiculous.

When completing his or her profile, a member must denote on the expansive list below whether an item is a turn on, a turn off, or, of course, if he or she has no opinion on the matter:

• Body piercings


• Boldness / Assertiveness


• Brainiacs


• Candlelight


• Dancing


• Erotica


• Flirting


• Long hair


• Money


• Power


• Public displays of affection


• Sarcasm


• Skinny dipping


• Tattoos


• Thrills


• Thunderstorms

Personally I find brainiacs, long hair, tattoos, body piercings, sarcasm and thrills to be turn-ons.

While skinny dipping, dancing, money, and power are definite turn offs, I simply have no opinion on candelight, thunderstorms, flirting or public displays of affection.Or boldness/assertiveness. Or "erotica"...

Please. What a weird list. Who can properly assess such a questionaire? My personal favorite has to be thrills. What the hell does that mean? Also, I'm quite sure I haven't heard the term "brainiac" since the early 90s, if ever. And I quite like that it's plural. As if a pack of them is coming to get you. Which, if it turns you on, could be a good thing...or a bad thing...or you could have no opinion on the matter.

Also, money and power...who is going to put either one of these under turn-offs? Maybe a serial killer. Why put such obvious items on the list. Everyone likes money and power so we probably shouldn't have these on the list.

And erotica? While a lovely euphemism for porn, why is this included? Gross. Even if you are a 60-year-old man looking for love, please, please, refrain from putting erotica as one of your turn ons. No one needs that image.

Also, you have to love the boldness slash assertiveness. That really helps.

No. I'm not on Match.com . In case you were wondering. It's for my poor, sweet, widowed mother. I just feel sorry she's having to deal with such a list. On top of 65-year-old men who honestly think they can get away with letting the whole world know they are into skinny-dipping and erotica.

At least we have thrills.

Head

"The issues of the past seem to be getting under control in all areas, except Beer."

Yes I just read that sentence too. How I came to read it is much more amusing.

After being poured a Smithwicks beer in a stout glass, I performed my usual routine of removing the absurd amounts of foam from my beverage.

"You really don't like head do you?" The bartender asked in a laviscious tone.

"No. I don't." I smirked.

Of course he claimed not to mean it in that way and then demanded I believe him that he was required to pour beer with "two fingers" worth of foam.

"So you just said 'head' and 'you have to use two fingers'...dirty," I said.

At which point he busted out the restaurant manual and I read the sentence:
"The issues of the past seem to be getting under control in all areas except Beer, please be careful when pouring beer and do not pour off foam and please put a 2 finger head on all pints."

This is the point at which I tore this page out of the binder and said calmly:
"I'm taking this."

Office Phrases That Should Be Eliminated Immediately

"I just wanted to get this on your radar."
This is not Doppler. We are not predicting heavy rains. Nor are we directing flight traffic. This has got to stop.

"Do you have any interest in spearheading this project?"
No I do not. I do not have any interest in using a spear for anything. Except maybe to stab you in the eye. It's 2008. Haven't you heard we don't have to hunt for food anymore? And spears have no place in the office.

"We need to get the ball rolling."
(Probably the least offensive inane office phrase. I myself am guilty of using it. But flashbacks of kindergarten recess can't be good for morale.)

"Robust."
(As in: "This group made a really robust powerpoint.")
I am not making this up. Repeated use of the adjective "robust" to describe anything having anything to do with business of any kind is unacceptable and ridiculous.

"Happy Monday. Happy Tuesday. Happy Humpday. Happy Thursday. Happy Friday."

NO DAY IS A HAPPY DAY AT WORK. Please. Except maybe Friday, and that is the only obvious exception to the rule.
Just stop wishing people happy days altogether. It irritates everyone.

"Let's get back on track."
This is not a railroad. That is all.

More to come later.

Tornadoes and Tiny Cups

It's amazing how bad weather can change your entire outlook on life, even if it's for just a second. There is talk of tornadoes in Atlanta and merely the notion has the ability to send everyone into a state of excited panic The sunny blue skies I enjoyed on my drive home quickly have turned to a hot, muggy, ominous, foreboding situation. Complete with winds and dark clouds speeding across the sky.

Moments ago a flurry of phone calls were made and received on my part. The Captain told me tennis ball sized hail was spotted in Carrollton. Bons called me in a panic over what to do with her new car. I could hear the thunder in Freddy’s background in Duluth. I talked to my mom on her way home from work and told her not to go for a run outside, as the storm was sure to quickly make it’s way to Buckhead. As I write this, the weather seems to have cleared up.

A couple of hours ago I had an important topic to disclose. So here goes:

On my lunch break, which I finally allowed myself to take at 4:30 PM, I went to Panera. And let me just say: It was pissing me off. Namely, the cup situation. With my late lunch of a chicken and sun-dried tomato sandwich I asked for a glass of water. You know, that thing that sustains all life?

I was parched. Dy-ing of thirst. What did they give me to alleviate my dehydration? If you guessed that I was provided with a 2 oz receptacle, you guessed right.

I never thought I would be looking around frantically hoping a cup akin to one you get on an airplane might appear before my eyes. I was tempted to throw down the $1.25 a drink, (more like a cup...cause that's apparently what you are paying for people), just so I could have a reasonable cup with which to drink water. But the concept is too ridiculous.

Here comes the rain in Midtown. Everything outside my window looks extra green against a gray sky. Maybe I should be collecting it for my next lunch break.

It's the principle of the thing. For a possibly carcogenic, man-made, carbonated, sugar-filled fountain beverage you are supplied with an environmentally friendly, recycled, and glorious sized 12 oz cup. And for water, a minute plastic object. Oh the irony.

That was quick. I guess I can go to dinner. They sky is faintly pink and I need a margarita.

Analyzing Armpits and Strange Clerks

I knew it wouldn't be too long before I had some madness to report. If I hadn't killed so many brain cells I might even know where to begin. It commenced with the Braves game. After a long week at work I was exhausted and all I wanted to do was take a nap. And nap I did. An ineffective one I might add. It ended with both of my arms dead from the shoulder down and somehow this led me to hit myself in the face. So I decided it was time to wake up. Call my cousin, (aka Mate), and get myself to the game.

Things have a strange way of working out when it's just the two of us. (Any of my friends really...if it's just me and them). Two girls apparently is an approachable number and usually leads to unexpected gifts and favors.

Like the time me and BonBon walked to Landmark diner and ended up with free food, cab fare home and a scheduled rendezvous for a helicopter ride the next morning.

So, true to form, we arrive, run into a friend of a friend who works there. Get into the 755 club, get a free drink and lo and behold....run into friends. Namely this guy who is one of those people I can't help but see everywhere and I know from a past life (high school that is). He was part of a three week trip I took out West with 150 kids. When I see him I always think about his eyebrow piercing.

Side note Mate is feeding me fresh squeezed grapefruit/orange vodka drinks and a small baguette I was coerced into purchasing when I made my annual appearance in a grocery store an hour ago. Those places are amazing! I might begin to frequent them more often.

Back to the game. It was of course a downward spiral after we were forced to chug our ice cold beers before being admitted to said club. Braves games are infectious and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and we won! I, being a good luck charm. Afterwards fireworks.

So it wasn't too bad. Astounding that we couldn't find anyone to go with. But admirable that we were able to find our way to Turner Field without any and all guys (who we always seem to wind up dragging along with us). That’s what it feels like too. Mate and I always seem to drag our victim around in a flurry of...yes, social drama terrorism.

I base potential suitors on their performance with me and mate. If you can handle us. You can handle anything. She was not kidding about this drink being strong.

After the game it was the great debate of Buckhead or Virginia Highlands of course. Buckhead, being the winner. We started at Fados then it was on to Park Bench. (Eyebrow piercing is in tow of course). Live music, a dust of adderall and one strong shot later I was very very very drunk.

So where do you go when you're drunk and want to see everyone you know?
PoolHall.

It was at Pool Hall that I got into several altercations. One being with the bartender...when he so rudely shined a flashlight at me when I didn’t whip out my credit card at the first appearance of our drinks. And I jokingly commented that next time I needed something from him I would be sure to shine a flashlight in his eye. At which point he threw my credit card on the ground and reneged our drinks. What an asshole. Take it easy buddy. So we get drinks at the other end of the bar from a not quite as ridiculous person.

At one point I was walking to the bathroom and the Street performer’s girlfriend pretended to run into me. Got to love this move as it reeks of quiet desperation.
I said,"Are you joking?"

To which she responded "I was trying to go this way" and I said "ok..." and continued walking to the bathroom at which point she started loudly saying my name coupled with nonsense and I just ignored her.

(The street performer was a three week fling I had last summer and the whole time he continued to talk to this girl. In front of me, even. Which I expected would result in them getting back together. Well apparently she cannot handle it.)

He was also there and of course one of the numerous people I called to go to the Braves game. No answer or response on his part which was the smallest altercation of the night when I said to him "I called you earlier." And he said "Oh you did?" like he really didn't know which came off as what it was...a bad lie.

So the night ended with her coming up to me and loudly and sarcastically saying "It was so nice to meet you HEDONE" And I was like "I'm sorry were we just formally introduced by you pretending to run into me?" That is what is what I wish I said. But in actuality I just said the truth...I've never met you. I know who you are. But we have never been introduced. To which she loudly assaulted me with "I met you one time before and you were acting like my best friend." Which I assume she was referring to a night I was in a jovial mood and was laughing and talking with friends (namely the street performer) and she glared at me from a corner. But I had never actually met her. As I am trying to explain to her that: yes I know who you are. But No we've never met. Mate is standing by saying "What? I don't understand! Who is this person!?" Which I am trying to quiet so I can continue my calm bitchy resolve.

But the conversation ended when her older brother's girlfriend, who happens to be a friend of mine tackled her away. (Seeing the conversation from across the bar and realizing it was going nowhere fast and gaining in tension.)

Next, her older brother (a friend on mine from middle school) walked by and I told him:"Your sister's a real sweetheart."

In his British accent he responded:"She's actually kind of a bitch, really."

I much appreciate the fact that those who know her best are on my side.

Next step? A group hug and a cab ride back to Mates house in Sandy Springs. (Eyebrow piercing still in tow.) Strange, that I have decided to call him this as he doesn't even have it anymore. But anyways, we were up till probably 4am drinking St Pauli's Girl and blasting music in the computer room which I am now writing this in.

Other fun facts include the sexy nightgowns we apparently decided to put on. And I had a mild make out session with eyebrow piercing.

Maybe I actually got sun today. My face feels hot.

Yes, I didn't know where I was when I woke up.

My mom came to get us. Since we so brilliantly went back to Mate's place instead of mine and her car was in Buckhead.

Did I mention we slept until 12:40? Absurd.

Finally, we make it to the pool, where beforehand I accidentally befriended the leasing agent who later turns out to have several tattoos, an affinity for wife beaters and bears a strong resemblance to a pedophile.

So it was at the pool that Mate and I were laying on towels analyzing our armpits. After the pool we went to the grocery store and the liquor store (I realize I paint the picture of a raging alcoholic) where there was a strange life-size cardboard cut out of a robot in a thong with the statement "The Future of Adult Entertainment." To which I exclaimed. "What?"

The clerk then asked me what was wrong with a robot? Yikes.

As we quickly walked out we realized mate was straight out of Mario Cart and had literally run over a banana.

At our next stop Mate and I were disgusted by Twinkies, determined that Evian had a weird taste and Smartwater is better. I then nearly fell on the carpet and realized that I probably have no money in my account.

I'm going to wrap this up because I'm getting a buzz and have grand plans for the evening.

It Has to Start Somewhere

Let me lay it out for you. Currently I am listening to Sean Kingston in a cubicle that I share with 5 people. Just got rejected from two jobs. Am a little jacked up on Mountain Dew. And undecided on who I will be attending the Braves game with.