When work stinks

caveman: can you call 212-584-6587
can you tell doug to stop farting
Sent at 2:10 PM on Friday
me: ok look you can't ask me to do this stuff during business hours
i sit around too many people
last time it was like, 7:30, so it was ok.
caveman: ok
me: but that guy does have some issues.
caveman: yeah
he needs digestive aids
me: is it the same guy?
caveman: yeah
me: does he know it?
caveman: i took him to eat fried chicken for lunch so it's partly my fault i guess
me: hmmm
well are you dropping stink bombs all over the place?
caveman: no
my farts never stink anyway
me: what are you, a girl?
caveman: nope
actually, they smell really bad. i eat a shitload of red meat.
me: man, you're in the wrong era.

Facebook Follies #1: Drunk posting

fishyeyelid: oh man, I woke up this morning and I was like, holy shit I wrote something drunken and bad on artemis' wall

so I deleted it

me: hahaha

fishyeyelid: before I even showered

me: you can delete it?

hmmm

what did u write?

fishyeyelid:I didn't mean to write "douchebag" on your wall

me: oh

fishyeyelid:that's bad

me: why?

oh because you're calling youself one?

fishyeyelid: I dunno, it's not a nice word

me: oh

fishyeyelid: and what if people don't notice it's me

(it is me, right?)

me: i am the last person in the world you should check your propriety with.

oh people know

horsey pointed u out.

fishyeyelid:but walls are public

me: hmmm

i never realized you are so selectively sensitive

fishyeyelid: yes

yes I am

I am ecofriendly

I've accumulated a huge stack of wedding invitations; they come via mail willy nilly in different shapes and sizes, each beautiful in their own special way. White, off-white, pink, hand-crafted, hand-cut, laser-cut, lacy, script font, wedding font, courier font, we'll be divorced in 5 years font, embossed writing, flat writing, whimsical writing, bejeweled, floral, casual, with the thin tissuey-paper insert, without the tissuey-paper insert, and all on gorgeous, lovely to the touch, very high quality, very thick, very durable card stock. Perfect to use as coasters.

The brass ring

This year, everyone got promoted.

purplevenus98: so I'm sitting in my new office now
I gotta take advantage
and IM or something
Sent at 9:40 AM on Monday
me: hahaha
how is your new office?
purplevenus98: not bad
a little storage closet-y
we need to decorate it
me: is there no window?
purplevenus98: there are windows
me: hm ok
and you are in there all week?
purplevenus98: but they face a wall
we have 2 offices
because one has a view and one does not
we will rotate them, as well
it's really a bit silly
but I can do whatever I want in here
I guess
yeah
me: wait so are you always going to be in an office from now on?
purplevenus98: nope
that's what's weird
me: ok
purplevenus98: I will be in one half of the time
and out of that half
me: so it's like this
purplevenus98: half in this one
me: week one: desk
purplevenus98: half in the other ones
me: week two: office with window
week three: desk
week four: office with no window
purplevenus98: repeat
me: welcome to VPness!!
purplevenus98: thanks
you know what I've been doing all morning
me: no
purplevenus98: and have at least another half an hour before I can finish?
putting everyone's tasks for the next 2 weeks into a spreadsheet
with percentages
and affected groups
me: wow
management SUCKS!!!
purplevenus98: hahaha
me: you know this is going on blog right
purplevenus98: I hope so
(including this part)

Word of the Day

Philoprogenitiveness

phil·o·pro·gen·i·tive·ness

n.[Philo- + L. progenies offspring.]
(Phren.) The love of offspring; fondness for children.

The mother's philoprogenitiveness was apparent in the beaming family photo.

This word is longer than both of its definitions (just take the spaces out of the second one). Thanks a lot captivate.com - you just made my brain fire off 14 million synapses I'll never get back again on a word I'll fall asleep on before I finish spelling.

Butt they're so clever!

Cottonelle's recent ad campaign in the Shuttle threw me for a loop. On one nondescript morning I, along with my crosstown transferer buddies (47.7% of NYC), shuffled towards our beloved shuttle. I was momentarily blinded by the brightness everywhere when I realized that the Shuttle had done it again. Pimping her lovely self out to Madison Avenue once more rendered her wrapped in swaths upon swaths of toilet paper.

Let me back up for a sec. For anyone who doesn't know about the advertising on the Shuttle, it goes like this: a huge ad made out of some sort of elastic plastic material with sticky backing is created literally the size of a subway car. Said ad is then stuck onto the inside of the subway car, covering every inch of wall there is to cover, including the rims of windows, those frames that ads used to be constrained to, the No Se Apoye Contra La Puerta warning signs, the rims of the doorways, and the unfortunate homeless guy who has fallen asleep against the door. Ads the size of whole rows of the subway seats may also be created, so that whereas once you may have been sitting on yellow, orange and red seats you are now sitting on Journeyman's face. The richest companies also create ads the shape of a) subway car ceilings and vents so as to hock their goods to the exasperated commuter who looks up to the heavens crying "God save me!" as well as b) in the shape of the floor for when said commuter then looks down yelling "Fucking hell!"

Although Cottonelle is very witty with such slogans as "We shine where the sun don’t" and "Be kind to your behind" I presume it is not very rich, because they only had ads all over the walls and none on the ceiling or floor or seats. Amid my recoiling disgust for another attack of advertising on my sensitive and highly impressionable person, the capitalist in me piped up. You know, they should have covered the seats in rolls of toilet paper. What?! Shut up little capitalist! But don't you think that makes more sense? Little capitalist, stop trying to help the dark side. But think about it. TP is for your butt. Therefore you should be sitting on it. Plus it would make the seats look nicer. Look I don't need to be advertised to more, little capitalist. You know I'm right. I'm ignoring you now. Yeah you know it. I can't hear you I can't hear you I can't hear you. I so own you.

The Greatest American Hero

My brother won at Guitar Hero at a local bar last night. I was 50/50 on going, because perhaps the best thing I could do for myself the day of the worst hangover experience in my life is stay up late in a noisy smelly bar and inhale beer-burp infused air all night long. But I opted out. I DID dream about it though. He is retardedly awesome at GH so I thought his mad skillz would melt everyones' faces off and then he'd automatically win since no one else would be able to see what they're supposed to play seeing as their eyeballs would be lying in a pool of goo by their feet. But instead in my dream, the other contestants there were like him and his friend Al - all freaky showing off, playing with their teeth, playing behind their heads, playing blindfolded, playing upside down, etc etc etc and I was like whoa, Dude, I thought you would smoke everyone here easily but it seems like you've got your game cut out for you.

He won in real life though and I'm glad he did. I'm all second-hand competitive like that.

Someone else's blog

omg. are you for real? you are for real. THIS is the reason why I couldn't get the blogname I first thought of.

http://32andsingle.blogspot.com

It's probably better this way. There are many things I do and say which seem like a good idea at the time but are in fact not. Should I really be harping on both my old old age and my sorry sorry status all over the internet? On the one hand, it's really hilarious in this sort of funny but sad but not really sad cuz I'm actually quite awesome and some lucky/smart guy will realize it one day way!! On the other hand, it's pathetic. Period. And I do it enough in real life. Thank you, lovelatina.

Why do dogs get stuck with being called "sick"?

I am sick as a dog. Well, I was, earlier. Now I'm at home recuperating. People who know me know that I don't really get sick and they all hate me for it. Well I'm sorry, I just don't. My mom throws a fit every time I have the gall to declare that and will get very serious faced and say ok, now you must chant to Buddha because you should not be tempting the heavens to teach you a lesson in retribution for your arrogance, god forbid. Now chant! I used to be wary of saying that as well in my younger years, because who really wants a lesson about their arrogance from the heavens above? At this point though, at the ripe old age of 32 and a quarter, I figure I'm safe enough. I've lived roughly half my life, and so, if I start getting sick for the rest of my 30s, who cares? Your body falls apart on you when you hit 40 anyway, and everyone's sick in their 50s, and hell if you don't at least have a mild case of dyspeptia or some sort of hernia to complain about when you're in your 60s you're conversationally impotent. But I digress.

I am sick today because I had 3 too many Tokyotinis last night, and even a delicious bacon egg & cheese sandwich couldn't save me from turning today into one of the dingiest lowpoints in my life. First, I had to run to the bathroom at work to expunge the contents of my stomach. That was extremely pleasant. After 30 minutes of slouching at my desk and not at all feeling better, I decided f- it, I'm going home. We have email, phone, blackberries, citrix, and in the last 7 months, I have taken just 3 days off. I can afford to be sick and go home. I'll still declare that "I never call in sick!" because I'm telling everyone that I will be working from home. I'm cagey like that!

I can't stand the idea of having to wait for the trains and then the whole starting and stopping nonsense given that I almost threw up on the subway on my way in, so I flag down a cab and after giving my address I promptly semi-lie down. It was the longest cab ride ever. When we were a block away, I got up to get ready to pay but got hit with that immediate feeling of oh shit I am about to spew. I tried to hold it in, I really did. But hey it's springtime in NYC, and the maelstrom in my stomach wanted to bust out and party so bust out indeed it did. In my attempt to spare any kind of dignity there was left (none), and honor a taxi driver's simple, humble request (Please do not vomit in my cab), I covered my mouth as it was happening. This, of course, backfired. Vomitous Maelstrom was all HAHAHA you have underestimated my very force and I shall now teach you a lesson about your arrogance! and the yak went everywhere. On my coat, on my pants, and on my face, hair and all over the floor. The cabbie LOVED it. He gave me some paper towels, I gave him an extra twenty and we parted ways blowing kisses and promising to do this again "real soon!" I ran into my building warning Rich the Doorman to stay away from me, and then felt really bad for the two suckers I had to share the elevator with (one of whom was carrying lunch) all the way up to my apartment.

Folks, I gotta tell you. I am too old for this shit. And, it's disgusting. And I can't believe I want to publish this on the internet. The whole anonymous thing is irrelevant since the only person who reads this knows who I am. And is quite possibly the last friend I have left in this world. And that's before reading this. I guess I should go call that cabbie.

The thing I had to share with the world

me: you there?
iridetheJ: hey
me: ok you're probably busy seeing as you're a VP and all now so I'll just sit here and talk amongst myself because i HAVE to tell you what just happened
iridetheJ: i'm busy?
me: oh wait you're there
iridetheJ: you're busy!
me: i know, i know
ok.
so we got this new admin in MI, who everyone loves. well, my prop mgr loves her, and so does our HR lady. but she loves everyone. anyway, her first day was last thursday, which is when i was out there so when i came back everyone was all blah blah blah what'd you think?? and you know, i think she's nice and whatever, and she seems professional, but like, the things i care about only time will tell. you know, like if you make a lot of mistakes, and how big are the mistakes and how careful/careless you are, and IF YOU SHOW UP (our old admin called out sick or personal almost every week)
iridetheJ: sure. as long as you're cute.
me: (she's not)
so anyway, I called the office yesterday morning, and the new admin picks up. she goes "Skyline Re-la-ty Services"
!!!!!
I am floored.
iridetheJ: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
me: I told her "BTW, It's Skyline Realty Services, not RE-la-ty" and she's like, What? oh ok.
anyway, so I call the office later that afternoon, and again, new admin picks up. I swear to god I thought I heard "Skyline Re-la-ty Services!" again, but I am too shocked so I think maybe I was just hearing things.
So this morning I call again. New admin picks up. "Skyline Re-la-ty Services"
!!!!!!!! WTF!!!!
iridetheJ: HAHAHAHAHA
me: I go,"Tara! you said re-la-ty!!"
iridetheJ: HAHAHAHAHAHA
hahahahahahaha
wait you said that?
me: and she goes "Oh, I did? How do you say it?"
yeah I said it, but not all yelly like - just kind of surprised like
and I go "It's REAL-ty"
and she goes "RE-la-ty"
I go, "No, REAL-ty, REAL-ty!"
and she goes "Real-Real-RE-la-ty!"
!!!!!
iridetheJ: HAHAHAHAHAHA
hahahahaha
me: argh!!!
so i say, "ok, it’s REALTY, as in, 'hey that's REAL TEA, not FAKE TEA!'"
and she goes, "ok, Real Tea! that's good. I have to practice that."
iridetheJ: can I call her?
me: !!!!!!!!!!
yes, yes you can. but wait, you might get the old admin.
iridetheJ: what should I say?
how do I get the new one? forget it, it's too complicated.
me: I'll call and talk to the old one, so that the new one has to pick up. Ok ready?
iridetheJ: ok
me: just ask for me or something. and stall. play along.
ok call 313-227-1469*

(a smidgen amount of time elapses)

iridetheJ: RE
LA
TY!
me: !!!!!!
WTF!!!
what happened to the REAL TEA??
iridetheJ: it's fake!
wow. I thought maybe it would be a little vague, but no. it's clear as day. Re-la-ty.
can you maybe have her say something like Real Estate Services?
I know it's not the same but
me: I'll just have her say "Good morning, this is Skyline" or something like that
iridetheJ: her english sounds good
me: no, she's fine, she's normal. it's like nukiller. or li-berry
iridetheJ: haha li-berry
she's looking for your number...
me: forget it just hang up
iridetheJ: the thing about stuff like that is
me: she COMES FROM property management!
iridetheJ: if you can't say it chances are you don't need it
me: ?
iridetheJ: like, if you can't say library, you probably don't go that often
me: haha, ok
well
this lady is in real estate.
she needs to be able to say REAL TEA!

* You didn't think I'd put our real number in there, did you?

Seriously. Who the p needs this?

Hello? Are you there? Pick up, it's me! Hellllooooo??!!

Writing this post is seriously the last thing I have time for right now, but I feel I need to explain myself. I don't really hate the shuttle. But what I do hate is when I walk into the shuttle and there are floor-to-ceiling ads all over the place, telling me to watch some shitty show that's just a conduit for MORE shitty advertising. (This is anonymous right? Because I don't have the balls yet to curse on the internet or air all my issues and have my name attached to it all. Give me a few more posts.) I couldn't get the blog name I really wanted (32 and Single - more on that later), not that I really wanted it but I just needed a name fast because there's something I absolutely have to post, and if all this blog is is this post and that one, then I've made my internet contribution; and this is the best one I could think of that wasn't taken. (By the way, when I said floor-to-ceiling ads, I meant, including the ceiling. Yes, including the ceiling.) Ok that's it. I have to run to lunch now to gossip about my old boss.