"Shunotes"

While I'm unemployed, I'm living with my boyfriend. I say funny things.

Me: OMG! 'Obese and Pregnant;' If she were a teenager, it would be the trifecta of awesome.

Me: Do you want to take a shower with me?
JD: No, you can go.
Me: Why? You never let me shower alone that fast.
JD: Well, I have to fart. And if you leave, I can fart.
Me: You can stand up and fart and take a shower with me.
JD: I don't want to get up.
Me: You would rather be able to fart alone on the couch than take a shower with me?
JD: I really have to fart!

JD: Are your bits on strike?
Me: No. Why?
JD: I saw strike papers in the garbage.
Me: You were snooping in the garbage?
JD: I keep track of things like the water in the coffee maker and stuff in the garbage.

JD: What are you angry about?
Me: I'm not angry at you.
JD: But you're angry.
Me: I'm angry at my horoscope.
JD: Why?
Me: It hurt my feelings. JD: What did it say?
Me: It said things that hurt my feelings.
JD: Like what?
Me: I can't explain it; it's not reasonable! My horoscope hurt my feelings! This is what happens when I'm falling to the communists!

For real, though, it was super mean. This is the first sentence: "Your plate is full at work, but you seem eager to dig in. Good!" I don't have a job! How rude! It might as well have told me I'm a complete failure at life. And then it added the good just to dig in the fact that I'm not earning any money.

I went to a baby shower this weekend, and the girl sitting next to me was telling a story in which she revealed that she was 29. The ladies at the table all fawned over that telling her she looked 20. We played the baby shower game where you read the little poem and pass the card to the person described in the poem. Well one of them was "pass this to the youngest person" so everyone was like "It's Kimmie! Kim's the youngest!" I politely raised my hand and announced that I was 25.

THESE WOMEN THOUGHT I WAS 30!!!!

After Kim left, maybe 2 or 3 hours later, the women were saying goodbye to her and then turned to me saying she looks 20, ".... but you look 18!" Which is Woman for "I'm sorry we thought you were 30. I know we made you cry on the inside." On the inside and on the outside.

The only redeeming factor is that Kim had adult acne.

Today is supposed to be a lucky day for me. I found a penny. JD found $5.

All I want to do is curl up with ice cream and watch 16 and pregnant.

I already looked for jobs this morning, I swear!

I told JD I was going to lay in bed all day and watch TV on the Internet. I got up and made french fries, instead.

The View is talking about if you can be gay for one person. This is my kind of argument! My answer is, YES I think you cane be gay for one person. I was raised with a complete acceptance of homosexuals. I don't know why everyone gets so upset. I was lucky to be raised that way. Because I don't see being gay as some sort of cancer, I don't think one can be born gay. Everyone wants to argue that, but no one wants to argue being born straight. I don't think we're genetically decided to be attracted to a specific gender. I will believe that temperament is something we are born with. And I believe that it can be changed and molded through our experiences. That's the same way I feel about sexuality.

One of the main purposes of life is to continue it. This is innate and I don't think people will disagree. Why would some peoples genes make them gay then? Why would there be one homosexual in 4 generations of a heterosexual family? Probably because it's not genetic.

I will agree that there may be an abundance or a lack of certain hormones that could be present in gay people. But I don't think of being homosexual like being a hermaphrodite.

Now, time to buy my lottery ticket for tonight and brush my teeth. OMGIWANTSOMEICECREAM. Don't judge. You don't know me!

Modern lovings

me: mmm pandora just hooked me up with a sweet version of freshman
Deep: nice work shu
Are you using the ipod dock?
me: no
i didn't feel like getting up
i put tagen down for a nap so i only have to deal with 1 dog and i haven't left the couch except to retreive the newspaper from the couch
Deep: oh my shu
I'm going to come home and find you sleeping with the dogs laying all over the couch and a little bit of drool on your face.
lol
me: maybe
it could be worse
you could come home and i'ld be sleeping with one of the lesbains next door on your couch
a little drool and self-loathing doesn't sound so bad anymore does it?>
Deep: lol
no

Are you a Jewish single looking to mingle?

My identity was stolen! They bought flowers, music, and a hot broad on a Jewish Dating site. If you know of any single Jews in Ohio who are tech savvy (considering my CARD wasn't stolen), ummm punch them in the face... and then laugh because they stole the identity of someone who is unemployed. HAH! Jokes on you! I don't have a job! The money in my checking account wouldn't have lasted until the Sabbath!

I must give my props to the VISA fraud dept because they called me. I got scared THEY were trying to steal my identity so I hung up, but it forced me to check my account anyway.

Vegas, Continued...

So I woke up day 1 at 6am and made JD get up around 7am which is 10am Michigan time so all the complaining wasn't justified as far as I'm concerned.

We ate at MGM Buffet and it was GOOD. I got 3 plates and a donut. Well, 2 donuts but the first one didn't have any filling so I ate the frosting off and got one with filling. With full tummies we walked around Vegas and the casinos/hotels for about 3 hours. I was pooped and JD's feet hurt. We stopped at this food court thing and got Del Taco for lunch. Del Taco is like Taco Bell except there's less tacos and it has hamburgers and fries. Plus, in a city where everything costs $7, it was the cheapest place. Del Taco became our home base.

JD got a beer at the bar in MGM and took it back to the room to take a nap. The beer came in a really nice pint glass and he was convinced he could steal a set of 4 and take them home on the plane. He actually managed one. The bar tender was Asian, but not regular Asian. He was a parody of an Asian man.

We found a place that had $1 Margaritas and beers so we stopped there a few times. I spent a total of $2 on drinks and $3 gambling. I also won $10 so, aside from food, my Vegas cost was +$5.

Side note: I made all these notes in bed and they are not in order sooo I have no idea if any of this will be chronological.

At some point we stopped at Walgreens and they were SO cheap compared to 1.) hotel or casino prices 2.) actual Walgreens prices. I got sunscreen for $3! I couldn't find it that cheap here!

Umm... after JD napped, we went to get the Zumanity tickets and walked around a bit of New York, New York.

Zumanity.... it's The Seductive Side of Cirque Du Soleil. When I bought the tickets JD and I decided if we were going to see boobs, we might as well be in the front. I had forgotten what seats we actually had and was surprised to find us in the 2nd row. The first row of real seats behind the "VIP" section couches. We were on the side of the stage. This was considered an upgrade. When I say we were in the second row of a Cirque Du Soleil show, it's like saying we were seated behind the stage at a magic show. We were too close. So close, in fact that I viewed the following things:
Bikini line razor burn
C-Section scar
The fake nipples (lame! if you're going to promote the show as "nude" I want to see nipples)
The flesh colored body suits (which were the most accurate I have ever seen)
The fake pubic hair poking out of the flesh colored body suits
Upon being directed to our seats, we were told not to move during an act or else we might get hurt

Never. Again.

Things I was a little surprised about: They didn't all have 6 packs. One chick even had some cushion for the pushin. Their storylines didn't exactly fit the acts going on which was a bit disappointing. I didn't really like the characters except for the MC and the 2 fat ladies. Everyone else kind of scared me. There was a sign posted outside that said if you didn't want to participate to kindly tell the performers. Well, people kindly told them, and they still forced. I don't like being forced to do something so I was worried with how close we were sitting that they might make us do something. I put on my best "back the fuck off, bitch" face and hoped for the best.

The good acts were the hula hoop school girl, the contortionists in the fish bowl, the dominatrix(er? ee?) with the steel ring, and the chains guy. The chains guy looked exactly like Mohawk Mike except 50 pounds lighter and more fit with an extra side of homosexual. The entire time, that's all I could think of. Also, I could see all of the safety features in his act so that made it a little sad. I liked the lap dance act too, although it wasn't very exciting. Just entertaining.

My favorite was probably the guy with the steel ring. He looked so happy! Me and JD were thinking that he got in the show because he had a marketable Cirque skill, but maybe wasn't good enough to be in an awesome show. Or maybe he was roped in by the prospect of boobs and signed the contract before he realized the boobs were all an illusion.

The lame acts were the audience participation with the 2 main entertainers. I don't like seeing people be embarrassed! It hurts my little heart! The cowboy. I would have kicked if he had made me participate. The bathtub (because we couldn't see it from the side), the ballet dancers on the ribbons. There was this cage fight where the 2 guys were fighting over a woman and then made out with each other at the end. I liked when they made out, but they could have utilized the cage better. It was meh from that close up. There were a couple of other random ones that I don't remember.

All in all, I don't recommend going. No offense to the show, it's entertaining, but if you're going to spend that much money, put in a bit more and go see an "official" Cirque show.

After the show, we went to Del Taco again except I got hot dogs for the 2nd time on the trip and was disappointed.

Our little feets hurt so we went back to the room for foot rubs and sleep.

Semi Homemade Peanut Butter Swirl Brownies

I was watching Barefoot Contessa today and she made said peanut butter swirl brownies. I watched her make them thinking, though I’m pretty sure we have all the ingredients, it’s too much. Too much butter, too much chocolate, instant coffee? BAH! So I went into chef mode (which I developed over time and college to make regular meals cheaper, vegetarian, or with stuff I already had around) and changed the recipe to fit JD’s pantry. However, I wasn’t fully satisfied at that so I went into Sandra Lee mode and decided my base would be a box of brownie mix. Here’s Ina’s recipe:
Ingredients
1 pound unsalted butter
1 pound plus 12 ounces semisweet chocolate chips, divided
6 ounces unsweetened chocolate
6 extra-large eggs
3 tablespoons instant coffee granules
2 tablespoons pure vanilla extract
2 1/4 cups sugar
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour, divided
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
3/4 cup smooth peanut butter
Mix in a complicated intricate matter that involves a double boiler.

That’s a lot of chocolate! And chocolate is expensive! Pfft. We’re in a recession, here, people (and by People, I mean Ina Garden whose husband, I believe, is one of the most intelligent people IRL or one of the richest? He’s a fucking political genius is what I’m saying.) So here is my half assed oops I mean Semi homemade recipe:
Ingredients
1 box of brownie mix. Any kind, and whatever ingredients are on the box
2 tablespoons strong coffee
½-1 cup semi sweet chocolate chips
1 teaspoon vanilla
¾ cup smooth peanut butter
Mix in a bowl!

Live Blogging a Recession

Here’s the problem with looking for jobs online: when you check every day, there are only 1-3 new jobs that apply to your skills, experience, training, or interests. Not 1-3 new jobs on each site. 1-3 total in a days search of 2 zip codes and 4 sites. It gets depressing. One day you might find 7 new jobs with 3 to be excited about and the next day you find 2 and one is too far away and the other requires that you have experience in a program you’ve never heard of. But you apply for both anyway because you’re afraid the unemployment police will find you, call you lazy and worthless, and take away your $170 weekly deposit.

Aside from that, it's sunny today and I wish it was 70 degrees so I could get a tan while I have all this free time.

Next week: *get tax information to fill out the FAFSA to apply for school. It'll take 7 months, but I could get a job. I see at least 3 postings for Paralegals each day.
*Pick up JD's birthday present from house, wrap it.

Vegas notes Travel day

Well, I had been updating until we went to Vegas. Here are my notes and commentary:

I've never been on a plane. I've never even been inside an airport. So I was pretty much a 4 year old following JD around looking confused and scared. Of course the TSA can smell fear on you and yelled at me. More than once. I cried before we even got to the gate. (I later learned, there is no reason to yell at someone going through security at the airport. Thankfully, there is a Santa and he is an Asian man living in Vegas. Also, a lanky white man with a metal detector.)
Walking around the airport and drinking Starbucks green tea made me feel better. On our walk, we saw a man who looked like a French Pervert. Or a regular Pervert who waits at the Air France gate in airports. Later, he followed us onto our plane, and I was pretty much convinced that if I left my seat at all, he would molest me. I didn't leave my seat, but it wasn't too bad. I sat in the middle next to a woman who had never been on a plane before, and let me tell you, if I had been flying alone, I would not have been as calm as she was.

JD and I shared the snack box which contained beef jerky, cheese, crackers, "cookies", dried fruit and maybe another thing or two. It was only $5 and it was well worth it. JD chased it with a $5 beer. I played Bananagrams and listened to old NPR episodes that made me feel like a genius because I knew the actual answers to things. I was unimpressed with first class. It was just coach with 1 less row buddy. Not worth $1,000. They do, however, get drinks and snacks whenever they want. Minor plus when you consider the airplane potty.

As we were exiting the plan, the woman who had been sitting in front of us turned around and said, "are you guys getting married? You look young, you should get married." I'm polite to strangers for 2 questions. After the 2nd, I'm done. I've been polite to you long enough and now it is your time to be polite to me by leaving me alone. JD and I both told the woman we were not getting married at which point she began giggling about all the things a girl (I assume gender based on her list which didn't include blow jobs and home cooking) needs before getting married like "a BIG RING!" These things do not amuse me. I'm not the person who is going to elbow you knowingly (eh? heh??) about large diamonds, being good in bed, nice cars, or fat paychecks. I'm not actually shallow and I don't think those things are funny. So I was pretty much done with the lady and refused to look at her for fear of encouraging her to the point where she would hand us brochures for chapels and china patterns. JD continued to respond to her kindly.

We got off the plan safely, and got to the hotel safely, and thankfully JD is better at managing people than I am because I was tired and almost allowed MGM Grand to take $200 from me for no reason. They upgraded our room (because of JD, again) for free so we could have a king size bed. The room was in the West Wing and it was TINY. It was at the end of a mile long tunnel that became darker and more scary once you entered the West or Wing part. You walk into the room and you see the bathroom sink. No other room, or door just walk in: mirror above sink. To the left was the toilet and the shower behind their own glass walls. Which is saying a lot. It was really like walking into a public restroom and peeing in a stall. I was very discombobulated that there was no separate "room" nor a vent for the potty. I don't like people listening to me pee. When I go to the bathroom with someone I know, I left them pick the stall first and I go as far away from them as I can.

Don't even get me started on pooping.

Lucky I love my boyfriend in an open and honest bodily function kind of way because if I had been with someone else, I may have left the room to pee. As it was, I turned on the TV in the vanity mirror every time I peed. I'm sure that's what it was there for.

Las Vegas is 3 hours behind Michigan. I refused to change my iTouch time to "Vegas time" and my body committed to the cause by waking up at 6am-Vegas every morning. Which gave me 3 hours to be quiet in a dark room waiting to wake JD up. And wake him up I did.

To be continued...

(I know I'm laid off, what better things do I have to do that I can't update this blog in a timely and complete mannor? Three words: Obese Teen Pregnancy. You can combine them in many ways and TV has.)

(Plus, you know, looking for a job and trying to go back to school for free)

Live Blogging a Recession

I don't suppose there's any good coming from blogging at 9am. I've only been up an hour and a half. I've managed the dogs, had a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee, and applied for jobs. So here's my open letter to the universe:

Dear Universe,
I know you thought I was getting cocky, and I was. I admit it. I took advantage of your hospitality and I apologize for that. I hope we can move forward with good feelings instead of negative ones.
If you'll notice, I've gone back to saying "when I get a new job" to let you know I am planning on being employed soon. I have also started following the techniques I saw on MTV of tapping my forehead and wrists while repeating a mantra of "I will get a good job; I will win the lottery." I hope you will take those things into consideration as you look over my resume.
Again, I apologize for the way I behaved at my last job. Complaining about doing work I was paid for, while spending 75% of my day reading blogs and the news, I agree that that is not how an appreciative employee should act. At my next job, I will work on not being so bitter. Although, I would like to mention that I complained about RAW 100% more than this most recent employment and you kept me there for 2 years being paid minimum wage. I'm not saying you owe me or anything, but I would like that and how often I was asked to plagiarize things to be noted.
I know you're busy, but I just want to leave you this: I'm a hard worker, and you know it. Thanks for the Super Bowl win.
Sincerely,
Me

PS As you already know, I'll be in Vegas next week so if you could keep the planes were on safe and in the air that would be great. If you have some more time after that to let JD win some money gambling, even better. No pressure.

Live Blogging a Recession

Today I woke up at my old work time and did my old getting ready for work routine. Except, I had more time and less pressure. I went to the Michigan Works place--which was empty--and filled out 2 pieces of paper, went over how to use the website with a nice lady who was otherwise useless. Got pressured into getting a teaching degree, and left.
So far, it's 11am. I have eaten 2 breakfasts, done P90X Plyo workout, and played with Radar for a few minutes.

I made a list of things I have to do to make me feel useful and busy. If I feel useless with nothing to do, I'm pretty sure I would just sit and cry, eat some chocolate, and feel sorry for myself. Maybe I can work that into my list next week-the list for today and tomorrow is too long. Today: baking chocolate cupcakes! Picking up dog poop! Vacuuming the couch! Cleaning the bathroom!

I can catch up on my infomercials

I woke up a little before 6 and wasn't able to fall back asleep. My head hurts (possibly from the wine?) and my eyes burn (definitely from the crying.)

My point: Yudu. Ok so I can't find the infomercial on YouTube. And, really, my only complaint is that it's clear you can only screen print on flat surfaces. And yet this creepy lady screen printed "Diva" on her dogs bowl. Which is super lame because you can just buy bowls like that. Also, she screen printed "Diva" on the dogs (travel?) bag. Although little towels were hanging out like the dog would be taking that bag to the gym, and it didn't have any vent holes, I hope that's just the bag she carries the dog around in because why does your tiny tiny dog have a gym bag?

Live Blogging the Recession

4:05pm Laid off
4:16pm Crying in the street outside work waiting to be picked up because boyfriend and I car pooled to work together for the first time.
5:15pm Signed up for unemployment.
6:30pm Boyfriend makes me eat guacamole he got pulled over to get for me to make me stop crying.
6:57pm Thought I stopped crying, but was just a wine high.
7:00pm Got angry about a girl I forgot I was "friends" with on Facebook. Got so loud, I made myself poop.
8:39pm Checked horoscope to see if it would tell me I was getting laid off. No warnings, although suspicious mention of "freelance" projects.
8:53pm Checked boyfriends horoscope. Said he was having best year ever and has never been so lucky. Cry some more about unfortunate life and birthdate.
9:07pm Thought Project Runway was on. New episode isn't until 10pm. Still drinking.
9:11pm Watching old episode of Biggest Loser I fell asleep during in its initial air.
5:00pm--present Make constant comments about how I can neither do nor aford things because I no longer have a job. Also, things I can do: watch The View, watch Oprah, exercise, manage the dogs, clean the house, not take boyfriends 2 week old clothes out of the laundry.
9:15pm Boyfriend is shining blind-inducing flashlight INTO HIS EYES. His horoscope is gifting without consideration for common sense.
9:16pm Not impressed with fat people's ability to run for 5 minutes.Ok. Mildly impressed.
9:18pm This is fun.
9:18pm Boyfriend adds to log, makes himself giggle.
9:20pm Boyfriend feeds me the good bits out of the ice cream. I remind myself I am dating the right man.
9:23pm Getting more wine.
9:27pm Boyfriend tried to ferventally fan away fart. I now have a Smirnoff Ice - Green Apple... Better than the
wine!
9:33pm Realize boyfriend is the one putting my razor face down instead of face up on the ledge in the shower. He has been using it to shave the hairs off his hands. (side note: 3rd man card loss)

After this, I finished my Smirnoff and fell asleep on the couch, but woke up to see the models walk the runway.

Are you reading ANOTHER BOOK?

I read in my spare public time a lot. In my spare private time, I prefer to snuggle and watch TV. I don’t read magazines much. I don’t read Dan Brown (though I have read 1 book). I don’t read Steven King (though I have read 1 book). I don’t read Eat Pray Love or The 5 People You Meet in Heaven. I read books no one has heard of by authors no one has heard of. I read a few classics now and then to see what the fuss is all about. I have rarely read a book in public someone has commented on because they, too, have read it. Maybe twice in my life (not counting sitting in Anspach hall). I have college degree opinions about books. I took classes strictly on analyzing. I PASSED A FINAL EXAM ON WAR AND PEACE. I'M NOT FUCKIN' AROUND HERE. Interrupting me while I'm reading is tantamount to interrupting a couple on a date. Asking me if I like a book is like asking Ebert (he’s the not dead one, right?) if he liked a movie: the answer isn’t yes or no. There are parts, there are moments, there are symbols and themes and story lines. It’s just too hard to explain.

At work, especially, I hear it a lot:
“You like to read?” Yes. Yes I do. This book in my nose is not just to give me reason to ignore you, although that is one of its skills.
“What do you like to read?” Now, I began answering this question with “books” several years ago. Mostly because “even if I told you, you’ve never heard of it” sounds rude and presumptuous even it is true. I try and name my favorite authors (Ayn Rand, Chuck Palahniuk, Jeffery Eugenides, Lorrie Moore) but people just stare blankly.
“Do you have a favorite genera?” Ugh. Is phenomenal a genera? Fiction. Always fiction.
“Do you read best sellers? Oprah books?” Sigh. “Sometimes.”
“You know Steven King/Dan Brown? I read one of his books. I like him.” That’s like having never seen a football game in your life and never watching one again and saying, “I like the Lions. I think they’re good.”
My little literary heart breaks.
The me who memorized the first act of Romeo and Juliet at age 12 cries.
The college me who refused to ever use feminism as a paper topic is ignoring you.
The college me who wrote a paper entitled “Horatio: I’m still standing” upon her 3rd reading of Hamlet, that described how the actual protagonist in the play is Horatio makes a frowny face.
The college me who wrote a paper trying to prove that that wretched Jane Eyre was a bitch and her and that guy she was with weren’t really in love, but actually in a codependent relationship huffs away angrily.
The college me who read Waterland twice in one semester (4 times total through the course of school) and cried for 3 days because she couldn’t narrow down a term paper topic because the book is Just. That. Damn. Good…. She wants to punch you in the face.
The 18 year old me who spent 3 years crooning over the quotes from The Fountainhead and then spent 4 weeks reading it religiously except for that 2 day break where she put the novel in the freezer because she was so emotionally involved with the characters, they were becoming a drain on her real emotions… that girl wants you to shove your made for TV books up your ass.

It’s like that time there was a nerd joke on a mouse pad and I asked JD what it meant. He essentially told me that to even explain the joke, I’d have to understand expert level computer functions. It’s like calling someone who is 450lbs. “big boned” Like calling a hoarder “messy” Like calling a drug addict a “stoner” or an alcoholic a “social drinker”

I like reading more than I like people. I prefer to have my eyes in a book then accidentally lock stare with a stranger and have to make conversation.

The reason I’m so snooty about literature is because I’m not intelligent enough to have an opinion on much else. I don’t know history. I can’t name a war or a person who fought it in or the president it was under. I couldn’t label China on a map, ok? I don’t know which way is East. I have to remind myself the difference between republican and democratic, and I don’t know which color belongs to which, and I don’t know who gets the donkey. But if you want to compare and contrast pedophilic tendencies in James Joyce’s collection of short stories entitled Dubliners, send me an e-mail because I don’t like to talk on the phone.

Listing annoying people is OK

It’s true: I’m getting to be an old crotchety lady. I like Tim Horton’s. I like Canada. I do not like the TH’s by my house. I like the guy who works Thursday mornings and make the good mochas. I do not like the tiny dark haired woman who acts like I’m ruining her day by walking into the store.

This morning, though, was the worst. I walked in to see 4 people standing around with their arms crossed over their chests. No one was in the drive thru; I was the only person in the store. When I got to the register, no one moved; they just looked at each other with a huffy “I’m too good for this” face (and believe me, I know the face, I make it all the time.) One of the girls said “you take her” and the other shuffled over unnecessarily slow, rolling her eyes the entire way. I placed my order; I said please and thank you. The gay guy with the goatee walked over as slowly as possible, made my coffee, tossed it onto the counter, and walked as slowly as possible back to his bitching post where he started. It’s like everyone who works there has pennies shoved up their ass and if they fall out, you’re fired. Their behavior was completely disrespectful. I just wanted to scream, “I CAN SEE YOU! I AM A CUSTOMER AND I CAN SEE YOU! DO YOU THINK THIS IS HOW CANADA WANTS TO BE REPRESENTED?!”

Listen, I get it. I worked at Dairy Queen. I worked for $6/hr. I worked at 7am. I don’t have high expectations. My expectations include you not defecating (or anything else) on my food, and you doing your job.
So, I made a formal complaint with TH’s. That’s right… I’m that person. I WILL NOT send food back in a restaurant or even order something else, but I will passive aggressively compose a witty complaint to your corporation.

One time, I got my hair cut by this robust angry lady, who didn’t cut part of my hair. I called the place the next day, asked to speak to the manager, told her the lady didn’t cut my bangs (and gave me a shitty hair cut, but that wasn’t a big deal because it’s hair and it will grow back. See what I do? I prove I’m a reasonable person. I relate and I say it’s ok, but you pushed it too far.) When she asked me who cut my hair, I told her I didn’t know her name because she never introduced herself. I heard the woman gasp on the other line. This wasn’t super cuts either. I pay $45 + $10 tip for the good chick. The crappy woman still works there, but the nice girl who cut my bangs became my new stylist. Except she’s too expensive for a trim so I don’t see her anymore.

I don’t like my job all the time either. Not just this current job, but many of my previous jobs. The trick is to be as unhappy as possible when people aren’t watching. Get all your whining out to your boyfriend, your best friend, your mom, your blog. And when people whose comments and observations of your behavior have the potential to directly affect your job, you smile so your mouth stays shut.
Unless that person is trying to get you to pump the hand sanitizer. You gotta stand for something, right?

Two guys came in for a Co-Worker who is notorious for making people wait for him. He is also notorious for talking on his blue tooth headset while peeing and then not washing his hands, but I digress. These 2 guys came in at 10:04am. I paged the Co-Worker at 10:05. I called him on his cell phone at 10:08. “Co-Worker, you have 2 men here for you.” “O RLY?” “Yes.” “I’ll be right up; thanks.” He came up to the front office at 10:18. He then went into someone’s office. One of the guys creeped around the window I have at 10:20 and at 10:22 asked if Co-Worker knew they were here. “Yes. He knows you’re here, he just stepped into an office.” At 10:25 he walked out and someone stopped him to chat. He said, “Oh it’s OK I’ve just got these guys.” Eventually, he lets these guys in. While they’re signing in, he walked away to check his email and was gone 5 minutes. Someone else set them up in a conference room.
Co-Worker is an asshole for treating these guys like they’re interrupting his time.
I’m an asshole who didn’t think to ask if they should go into a conference room.
Work Fail.

While I’m at it, you know who else I don’t like? Guy At Work Who Takes 30 Seconds To Respond To Everything You Say. You know that guy or gal. They ask you something, you immediately answer, they stare at you or off into the distance for 30 seconds before responding. It’s annoying because you’re not sure if you should be waiting for them to say something else or if they’re just coming to you via satellite.

Saved by my blog!

Dear Meijer Brand Dino Mac & Cheese,
You must think I am not a PMSy, fat kid at heart, person who has to eat immediately upon arriving home from work. I don’t know who told you this, but they were clearly pulling your leg. I noticed the lack of delicious misc. dino shaped pasta in your box. I noticed my unnecessary amount of butter (honestly, it surprised me and before I put it in the pot, I thought, oh god this is too much butter I need to put some back. I didn’t. That’s how I roll) added to my vanilla flavored soy milk and your packet of faux-cheese substance. Had I thought ahead, I would have made 2 boxes. So I wouldn’t have felt so disgusted with myself for WANTING desperately to eat the entire box. I had to add a can of peas and a VanDeKamp fish fillet to my meal to make me feel satisfied.
So if I can offer one humble suggestion for your box: please add more dino shaped pasta. I like to take some to work. I like to eat out of the Tupperware of food I’m saving for work (those calories don’t count). I don’t like to share, but I also don’t like to feel as if I could eat the whole box and it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
-Me, your loyal customer

Just as I become easily influenced by food talk, I am easily confused by the time and the date. I was looking up a date in April on my Outlook calendar and forgot to change it back to February. I glanced over there for just a second and believed it was April. Thought bubble: April already?

Interesting story:
I wrote this whole complaint about an email I got regarding travel and how the person didn't give me dates when they copied and pasted the itinerary they wanted. In my bitch, I pasted the e-mail I was sent. Lo and behold, the dates were in the e-mail, but in white so they were invisible. Even when I pasted them into Word they didn't show. So good news bad news, you miss out on me complaining about my job and you also miss out on the AMAZING faux letter I wrote where I called myself socially and mentally handicapped.

Maybe next time.

All I have are work complaints and my 57 cats who NEED ME

True story:
(Last Friday)
Dear Travel Planner,
I need a flight from Detroit to LA leaving the evening of the 11 and returning the evening of the 12.
-Traveler

Dear Traveler,
Here are you options.
-Travel Planner.
...
(Monday afternoon…)
Dear Travel Planner,
Please look for a flight leaving LA around 5pm maybe stopping in Memphis.
-Traveler

(Inner thoughts: Stopping in Memphis? Are you talking about an actual flight you saw and are testing me to see if I’ll google some obscure airline that has a flight leaving exactly at 5pm and stops in Memphis with just enough time to pee and head to the gate without waiting? Or, are you that much of a douchebag that you think you control the flight schedules with your mind and saying it will make it become a reality and you’re working your airline telekinesis through me, your humble servant?)

Dear Traveler,
Listed below is every single flight option leaving LA on the 12 between 4pm and 6pm. (and to make it seem like I’m not trying to be an asshole) I hope this helps.
-Travel Planner.

I was complaining to JD one time about how I thought it was weird people speak to me like I’m a 12 year old and also ask me questions they should very much know the answer to. I wonder if it’s their way of feeling sorry for me. “Well, I basically called her an idiot because she couldn't get me on the booked 5pm flight, but then I asked her how to pick up “line 701” so it should have boosted her spirits a little.” I sit right next to the printers so I should know better when they’re broken not to print something, but I did it anyway today. A manager who has been here I dunno maybe 5+ years asked me where the paper is kept because it seemed the printer was out of paper.