Agony
I hate my birthday.
12.26.2005
Addendum to the Christmas Report
I forgot to say that I did get one amazing Christmas present this year.
I got a love letter. An illustrated love letter.
They were nice pictures. Stick figures. Get your mind out of the gutter.
I got a love letter. An illustrated love letter.
They were nice pictures. Stick figures. Get your mind out of the gutter.
The Christmas Report
Too boring to report on this year. No scandals. No fights. No nothin. Like we're a normal family or something.
Well, a normal family who give pith helmets as Christmas presents. But otherwise...
Well, a normal family who give pith helmets as Christmas presents. But otherwise...
12.23.2005
News of the Weird
Normally, I might just think this was a quirky story, but it's made even funnier by liberal use of the word jackass.
12.22.2005
The Holiday Spirit
Catching my usual train home after work today, I heard the conductor announce that his immediate follower was the Christmas train. Now, I've seen ads for this train, and I've seen it from a distance, but I've never actually been a passenger. It was too tempting. I got off at Belmont and waited for the grand arrival. I expected Santa and the reindeer pulling the whole thing, sparkling with lights and full of jolly carollers.
How wrong I was. Admittedly, it was decorated in the over-the-top fashion you would want from a government holiday celebration: garland, lights, bows, etc. And there was holiday music of a poppy sort, such that you could barely tell that it was holiday music at all. But it was pretty much miserable. There were CTA employees dressed up in elf suits who looked about as happy as David Sedaris toward the end of the Santaland Diaries. One was pushing the candy canes like they were crack: "C'mon, honey, don't you want another?" Most of the people on the train were just commuters, staring blankly in front of them or chattering on their cell phones. The one family I saw who looked like they might have sought out the Santa Express (as it is officially known) had a boy of 2 doubling himself over and almost squirming to the floor with bawling. It was everything that I should have expected if I remembered that it was two days until the end of the unbearably drawn-out Christmas season.
How wrong I was. Admittedly, it was decorated in the over-the-top fashion you would want from a government holiday celebration: garland, lights, bows, etc. And there was holiday music of a poppy sort, such that you could barely tell that it was holiday music at all. But it was pretty much miserable. There were CTA employees dressed up in elf suits who looked about as happy as David Sedaris toward the end of the Santaland Diaries. One was pushing the candy canes like they were crack: "C'mon, honey, don't you want another?" Most of the people on the train were just commuters, staring blankly in front of them or chattering on their cell phones. The one family I saw who looked like they might have sought out the Santa Express (as it is officially known) had a boy of 2 doubling himself over and almost squirming to the floor with bawling. It was everything that I should have expected if I remembered that it was two days until the end of the unbearably drawn-out Christmas season.
12.20.2005
Corporate Meeting Notes 12/16/05
Answer Fairy -- does not exist
Ta Ta?
good pain / bitter pill
by gum?
closet = haystack? mixed metaphors!
shirking responsibility
NO reassurances
Ta Ta?
good pain / bitter pill
by gum?
closet = haystack? mixed metaphors!
shirking responsibility
NO reassurances
12.13.2005
Office Party Part 2
OK, the back story: I used to work at a detective agency. I quit back in the summer to take an editorial job. The boss at the agency was not pleased with me for leaving, and whenever we talk now, he either begs me to come back or curses me for abandoning him.
Now, the boy I'm currently attached to is still working at that agency. So I got to/had to go to the office holiday party this year, not as an employee, but as a date. Todd and I were a little worried that it was going to be a big scandal, "ooh, look at them," the old boss making lots of inappropriate comments, etc. Fortunately, though, we were saved by the theatrically outrageous behavior of one of his co-workers.
I shall refer to this woman as The Goat, because that's what I called her for most of the time we worked together. I have to say, first, that she has an obnoxious personality and is monumentally stupid and lazy, which makes it OK for me to say other awful things about her. She's about five feet tall and five feet wide, and she has a patchy beard and hairy chest (which I guess don't bother her much, because she never shaves and likes to wear low-cut shirts). She made her grand entrance to the upscale-ish Greektown joint in a floor-length leopard-print coat, huge boots, and enough makeup for all the drag queens at Berlin. She teetered in, clearly already under some influence, with an underage boy as an escort. For the next three hours, she managed to swear, screech, insult, bray, and then fall off her chair with such an immense crash that the entire restaurant fell silent and stared. Everyone else was trying to be politely quiet, I think, and just get her to calm down, but I wanted her to cause an even bigger scene. I was laughing so hard at one point I almost cried. She's the most ridiculous person I've ever encountered, and I wish she had a reality show, because I'd love to watch the continuing adventures of The Goat. The Goat goes to the grocery store. The Goat goes to church. The Goat visits Grandma at the home.
It got less funny, later, when she insisted on driving home, completely blasted and still drinking. As far as I know, she made it home OK, but that doesn't make me feel much better.
Now, the boy I'm currently attached to is still working at that agency. So I got to/had to go to the office holiday party this year, not as an employee, but as a date. Todd and I were a little worried that it was going to be a big scandal, "ooh, look at them," the old boss making lots of inappropriate comments, etc. Fortunately, though, we were saved by the theatrically outrageous behavior of one of his co-workers.
I shall refer to this woman as The Goat, because that's what I called her for most of the time we worked together. I have to say, first, that she has an obnoxious personality and is monumentally stupid and lazy, which makes it OK for me to say other awful things about her. She's about five feet tall and five feet wide, and she has a patchy beard and hairy chest (which I guess don't bother her much, because she never shaves and likes to wear low-cut shirts). She made her grand entrance to the upscale-ish Greektown joint in a floor-length leopard-print coat, huge boots, and enough makeup for all the drag queens at Berlin. She teetered in, clearly already under some influence, with an underage boy as an escort. For the next three hours, she managed to swear, screech, insult, bray, and then fall off her chair with such an immense crash that the entire restaurant fell silent and stared. Everyone else was trying to be politely quiet, I think, and just get her to calm down, but I wanted her to cause an even bigger scene. I was laughing so hard at one point I almost cried. She's the most ridiculous person I've ever encountered, and I wish she had a reality show, because I'd love to watch the continuing adventures of The Goat. The Goat goes to the grocery store. The Goat goes to church. The Goat visits Grandma at the home.
It got less funny, later, when she insisted on driving home, completely blasted and still drinking. As far as I know, she made it home OK, but that doesn't make me feel much better.
Office Party Part 1
My office had a "holiday lunch" last Friday, which was basically an excuse to leave work half a day early and get our drunk on in the middle of the afternoon on the company tab. They piled us all into a nearby hotel, gave us two drink tickets each, and then made us stew around with only unidentifiable appetizers to keep us going for an hour.
Then the VP (see previous entry re: his invasion of my space) made a long and unfunny speech that I only made it through thanks to my careful seating between my two most hilarious (and sodden) co-workers. He kept pointing out that it was late and we were probably all hungry, but then he'd just launch into a new topic. I didn't think he'd ever get to the bit where he said, "Thanks, folks. Now let's eat!" But finally... three courses of lunch, half of which was unnecessary, and then I cut out early.
I got the report later that there was an entire evening of mobile drunkenness that I missed, but it's just as well. I spend too much time with these people already. I don't know if I could handle a pub crawl with them. Just hearing the story was a little exhausting. And anyway, I had to save my energy for Office Party Part 2 on Saturday.
Then the VP (see previous entry re: his invasion of my space) made a long and unfunny speech that I only made it through thanks to my careful seating between my two most hilarious (and sodden) co-workers. He kept pointing out that it was late and we were probably all hungry, but then he'd just launch into a new topic. I didn't think he'd ever get to the bit where he said, "Thanks, folks. Now let's eat!" But finally... three courses of lunch, half of which was unnecessary, and then I cut out early.
I got the report later that there was an entire evening of mobile drunkenness that I missed, but it's just as well. I spend too much time with these people already. I don't know if I could handle a pub crawl with them. Just hearing the story was a little exhausting. And anyway, I had to save my energy for Office Party Part 2 on Saturday.
12.08.2005
12.07.2005
Chicago In The News
Two news stories coming out of my hometown today:
First one being, hooray, the aldermen finally got some sense kicked into their fat heads and passed the (eventual...) smoking ban.
Second being the biggest ado over the most no-thing ever.
First one being, hooray, the aldermen finally got some sense kicked into their fat heads and passed the (eventual...) smoking ban.
Second being the biggest ado over the most no-thing ever.
12.04.2005
On Love
When I was younger, the best description I'd ever read of Love was "Punk Rock Love Is..." by Aaron Cometbus. (I can't find it online anywhere except as part of some girl's profile, so just go look it up. It's in the 30th issue of Cometbus, apparently, and also appears in the collection The Book of Zines edited by Chip Rowe.) But now that I'm older, this has taken its place.
Invasion of the Vice President
The Vice-President in Charge of Ignoring His Employees and Not Responding to Casual Pleasantries has his office approximately two yards from my cubicle. I see him many times a day around the office. He has never once said a word to me, not even good morning, let alone introduced himself, although he has repeated many times at Corporate Events that he wants to know everyone's face and shake everyone's hand. On a particular morning last week, I was sitting at my desk around 8:30, taking care of the important early morning business of reading Slate and drinking coffee. I realized that I could hear the Vice President and someone who I believe works in Product Development, who I will call Ms. Sycophant, having a conversation, very clearly. I looked around and saw that they were standing right outside my cube. Well, Ms. Sycophant was standing right outside my cube. Mr. Vice President was actually standing inside my cube, with his legs crossed, leaning against the wall on his elbow. Making himself very comfortable. I immediately freaked out, partially because I was very clearly wasting his company's time and thus his money, but mostly because I was now trapped inside my cubicle until they finished their discussion of a new product line. I immediately grabbed a stack of schedules and a pen and stood up in what I hoped was an important-business-to-attend-to kind of way, and said (with a quick throat-clearing), "Pardon me." (I've taken to saying Pardon me instead of Excuse me because it seems more sophisticated.) Mr. V-P looked startled, as though he had not noticed that he was encroaching on someone's personal space, and moved to the side. Ms. Syc made some joke about this being the new conference room. But the VP did not say one word to me. Not even eye contact and an apologetic smile. Just moved aside and looked at the floor. It's bizarre. I can't tell if he thinks I, as a mere contracted peon, am not worth speaking to, or if he's got some kind of phobia.
