Friday, August 31, 2007
So it was written, so it was put on the free table
Thinking about that last incident, I was pining a bit for cake, but all I had was apples and peanut butter. I went to wash my apple, and my coworker was just dropping a chocolate cake off on the free table. I had a slice and it was delicious - whipped cream, strawberries. Delightful! Score that one to Team Positivity. Now, maybe next week I will write about the man of my dreams and see if this trend continues.
A Reward for your Patience
For those of you who have been patiently awaiting my next post, provided that there are any of you, I am sorry. Pre-vacation prep and vacation has kept me away. Here is a brief update of what went on while I was away from the keyboard.
I have a lovely coworker named Camille, who all the boys love. Not joking. Henry loved her, Renaldo loves her, and various and sundry other pathetic fellows have prostrated themselves at her feet in the hopes she will pay them some attention. To date, that I know of, she has only dated Henry. She has repeated fended off advances from Renaldo, who has an obnoxious tendency to pout in an obvious manner afterwards and general then endeavors to makes everyone around him feel acutely embarrassed for his complete inability to take the none-too-subtle hint.
One day, many moons ago (think May-ish) I agreed to go out one evening and give Renaldo a few tips about the situation. It was a moment of weakness on my part, but motivated by the excellent intention to give him the tip of 'IT'S NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN' and have done with the whole slightly silly saga. It had been going on since last September. Anyway, you know what they say about intentions.
So the evening rolled around and I was already feeling grave misgivings about the whole scheme. Renaldo was just so happy. He was also ridiculously stealthy as he collected me from my cell and we left to the sports bar he had chosen for what would be my torture. I don't drink, but for a fleeting moment I wished I did so I would have something to blunt the agony that loomed. No, just a diet coke and glimpses out of the corner of my eye of a Detroit-Chicago playoff game (that was a tragic series, I rather like the Bulls, but they do have some room for improvement).
Even P.J. Brown felt better than I did that night (and less violated). (Reuters)
Renaldo got himself a beer and what he perceived as license to wax poetical about the virtues of Camille. The best/worst was when he said "She is one in a million, no, one in several million girls." News Flash - That same could be said of me, but it is certainly not high praise, now, is it?
He continued for TWO hours, and every time I tried to reacquaint him with reality, he would reject it out of hand. Add to that overly loud really bad music (pretty much things I would only ever hear if I was being tortured, like being forced to go to a baseball game, or back in time to the 80s ((and not the good bit of the 80s, but the really cringe-worthy parts))) and the fact that I hadn't eaten yet that day, and you will understand, surely. I tried melting into the wooden table top or just disappearing completely, but that is the one time Radiohead actually didn't help. Nothing could prevail against this pernicious crush. It was a new kind of evil.
Finally, I demanded that I be let go. Renaldo relented, in that he took me to the Bart station, but the entire ride was absorbed with his descriptions of his "feelings" for Camille. That's right, he used the f-word. And it wasn't as funny as the clip I just linked and it was more painful than this one (partially redeemed by the Spanish intro). Anyway, feelings are things that should either be able to be explicated - example, I am attracted to Damon, I loathe Styrofoam - or not mentioned. I tried explaining this to him, but something was lost in the English as a second language area.
** DISCLAIMER** Please don't assume this means I am xenophobic or anti-Hispanic or anti-ESL. Not that it matters, but Renaldo is not in fact Hispanic. That's not his real name. It is a simple fact, however, that when going between any two languages there are certain nuances and cultural factors that are frequently misunderstood. That is all I am saying.***
I was in this purgatory of a car ride when by divine intervention, my brother called me to discuss basketball. You can bet our last dollar that I was all over that. Who cares about cell-phone courtesy when their are being granted a reprieve from torture? So I leapt from the car when it came to the station and ran.
I was shell-shocked by the time I arrived home. Shell-shocked and ravenous. All I could think of was, 'must have chocolate.' Indeed, chocolate seemed the only thing that could possible make it bearable. So I proceeded to walk a mile to the store and a mile back (uphill, in the snow, both ways! okay, it's a little cliché, but it is the truth), purchased a fine chocolate cake and ate a healthy slice. By healthy, I refer to my mental health, as it did much to restore my mental health.
Ever since that fateful day, things have never been the same between Renaldo and me. Being around him makes me crave chocolate, even though he has not repeated his version of the Inquisition. It's simply not the way things used to be. He asked, as have his coworkers, what happened that has cause this rift. I don't say anything, because I have realized, it doesn't matter what you say to Renaldo, he has very selective hearing powers. He perceives that which is pleasing to him, and this isn't it.
And to cap this tale, I have made a timeline. Enjoy!
- Henry had his last day and rode off into the sunset.
- My foot swelled up like a sausage and broke one of my favorite shoes.
- I was invited to a very la event at SFMOMA, and will go next week. Apparently the person who wangled the invitation for me said I was qualified to go based of my 'young and fascinating" status. I didn't know I was young and fascinating, but hey, I'm not going to argue with it.
- I went on a leisurely vacation far away from my cell/cubicle. Acquired a bit of color that has in the two days I've been back faded back to gray.
- Earnesto and the senior managers went on a retreat I planned for them, enjoyed it, talked me up there, and repaid me by de-authorizing my overtime. What a swell guy.
I have a lovely coworker named Camille, who all the boys love. Not joking. Henry loved her, Renaldo loves her, and various and sundry other pathetic fellows have prostrated themselves at her feet in the hopes she will pay them some attention. To date, that I know of, she has only dated Henry. She has repeated fended off advances from Renaldo, who has an obnoxious tendency to pout in an obvious manner afterwards and general then endeavors to makes everyone around him feel acutely embarrassed for his complete inability to take the none-too-subtle hint.
One day, many moons ago (think May-ish) I agreed to go out one evening and give Renaldo a few tips about the situation. It was a moment of weakness on my part, but motivated by the excellent intention to give him the tip of 'IT'S NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN' and have done with the whole slightly silly saga. It had been going on since last September. Anyway, you know what they say about intentions.
So the evening rolled around and I was already feeling grave misgivings about the whole scheme. Renaldo was just so happy. He was also ridiculously stealthy as he collected me from my cell and we left to the sports bar he had chosen for what would be my torture. I don't drink, but for a fleeting moment I wished I did so I would have something to blunt the agony that loomed. No, just a diet coke and glimpses out of the corner of my eye of a Detroit-Chicago playoff game (that was a tragic series, I rather like the Bulls, but they do have some room for improvement).
Even P.J. Brown felt better than I did that night (and less violated). (Reuters)Renaldo got himself a beer and what he perceived as license to wax poetical about the virtues of Camille. The best/worst was when he said "She is one in a million, no, one in several million girls." News Flash - That same could be said of me, but it is certainly not high praise, now, is it?
He continued for TWO hours, and every time I tried to reacquaint him with reality, he would reject it out of hand. Add to that overly loud really bad music (pretty much things I would only ever hear if I was being tortured, like being forced to go to a baseball game, or back in time to the 80s ((and not the good bit of the 80s, but the really cringe-worthy parts))) and the fact that I hadn't eaten yet that day, and you will understand, surely. I tried melting into the wooden table top or just disappearing completely, but that is the one time Radiohead actually didn't help. Nothing could prevail against this pernicious crush. It was a new kind of evil.
Finally, I demanded that I be let go. Renaldo relented, in that he took me to the Bart station, but the entire ride was absorbed with his descriptions of his "feelings" for Camille. That's right, he used the f-word. And it wasn't as funny as the clip I just linked and it was more painful than this one (partially redeemed by the Spanish intro). Anyway, feelings are things that should either be able to be explicated - example, I am attracted to Damon, I loathe Styrofoam - or not mentioned. I tried explaining this to him, but something was lost in the English as a second language area.
** DISCLAIMER** Please don't assume this means I am xenophobic or anti-Hispanic or anti-ESL. Not that it matters, but Renaldo is not in fact Hispanic. That's not his real name. It is a simple fact, however, that when going between any two languages there are certain nuances and cultural factors that are frequently misunderstood. That is all I am saying.***
I was in this purgatory of a car ride when by divine intervention, my brother called me to discuss basketball. You can bet our last dollar that I was all over that. Who cares about cell-phone courtesy when their are being granted a reprieve from torture? So I leapt from the car when it came to the station and ran.
I was shell-shocked by the time I arrived home. Shell-shocked and ravenous. All I could think of was, 'must have chocolate.' Indeed, chocolate seemed the only thing that could possible make it bearable. So I proceeded to walk a mile to the store and a mile back (uphill, in the snow, both ways! okay, it's a little cliché, but it is the truth), purchased a fine chocolate cake and ate a healthy slice. By healthy, I refer to my mental health, as it did much to restore my mental health.
Ever since that fateful day, things have never been the same between Renaldo and me. Being around him makes me crave chocolate, even though he has not repeated his version of the Inquisition. It's simply not the way things used to be. He asked, as have his coworkers, what happened that has cause this rift. I don't say anything, because I have realized, it doesn't matter what you say to Renaldo, he has very selective hearing powers. He perceives that which is pleasing to him, and this isn't it.
And to cap this tale, I have made a timeline. Enjoy!
Friday, August 10, 2007
Chapter 3: In which I ponder why I go to drinks so often
For someone who doesn't drink alcohol, I sure do go to a lot of things that are planned around the consumption of it. and it means that I shell out $5 dollars for a diet coke and then watch the rest of the people impair their natural thinking abilities. Why?
Well last night and tonight again it is part of the mass exodus that has hit the workplace. Going to drinks for the farewell sort of like this: A soldier is about to bolt from one trench to another in WWI and so not to get mown down by the machine guns of the Ottoman empire (here chosen because of the word Empire, not because I hate Ottomans) calls to his buddies that will stay in the trench and latter get hit by mustard gas "cover me." I won't blame you if you don't get that.
But, as many 'oh, we'll miss yous' as are uttered at these anti-sobriety shindigs, you have to know that the people left in the trench are a tiny bit envious that the other people is getting out. Maybe it's the faintly impending sense of doom that Project Negative Value creates. Who knows? But that explains all the times we go out otherwise, to escape.
And Tonight, it is for Henry, who I will miss, along with his extensive vocabulary. But not his cigars.
Well last night and tonight again it is part of the mass exodus that has hit the workplace. Going to drinks for the farewell sort of like this: A soldier is about to bolt from one trench to another in WWI and so not to get mown down by the machine guns of the Ottoman empire (here chosen because of the word Empire, not because I hate Ottomans) calls to his buddies that will stay in the trench and latter get hit by mustard gas "cover me." I won't blame you if you don't get that.
But, as many 'oh, we'll miss yous' as are uttered at these anti-sobriety shindigs, you have to know that the people left in the trench are a tiny bit envious that the other people is getting out. Maybe it's the faintly impending sense of doom that Project Negative Value creates. Who knows? But that explains all the times we go out otherwise, to escape.
And Tonight, it is for Henry, who I will miss, along with his extensive vocabulary. But not his cigars.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Why I am not a nurse
In some people, empathy lives in never-ending stores, like bottomless wells of the stuff. And in me, I have a small bottle of the stuff.
Is that the mo0st fair way to say this? I don't know. I don't laugh at the sufferers. I just was raised in a bit of a bootstrap environment. As in, "pull yourself up by those bootstraps and stop whining and go kick some butt." And when it came to being sick, it was "stand up straight and smile and you'll feel better by lunchtime." Direct quote. Not joking.
So when Earnesto smashed his finger yesterday morning, and was convinced it was broken, I was "oh well, that sucks." It is broken. and he had to bin his carefully crafted schedule to go to the doctor twice to be told yes it is broken, no, we don't do anything about this kind of break.
It's like he is made of papier-mache. He did have a life-threatening illness within the past five years. That will make you take care of yourself better, be a little more cautious. But when he took more time off for a trifling cold than I did for mono, that's outside of enough. Stand up straight, I want to yell, and make yourself feel better. It's only a ring finger.
Maybe that's why, in the Pirate Quizzes, I always get such a good rating. Black spot on my soul (after the Sydney Olympics), and space in my heart, and the like.
Is that the mo0st fair way to say this? I don't know. I don't laugh at the sufferers. I just was raised in a bit of a bootstrap environment. As in, "pull yourself up by those bootstraps and stop whining and go kick some butt." And when it came to being sick, it was "stand up straight and smile and you'll feel better by lunchtime." Direct quote. Not joking.
So when Earnesto smashed his finger yesterday morning, and was convinced it was broken, I was "oh well, that sucks." It is broken. and he had to bin his carefully crafted schedule to go to the doctor twice to be told yes it is broken, no, we don't do anything about this kind of break.
It's like he is made of papier-mache. He did have a life-threatening illness within the past five years. That will make you take care of yourself better, be a little more cautious. But when he took more time off for a trifling cold than I did for mono, that's outside of enough. Stand up straight, I want to yell, and make yourself feel better. It's only a ring finger.
Maybe that's why, in the Pirate Quizzes, I always get such a good rating. Black spot on my soul (after the Sydney Olympics), and space in my heart, and the like.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
A Moment I've been waiting for
The NBA Schedule was released today!!! For those of you who know me, you know this is exciting beyond belief. It also means that I can buy tickets to when the Warriors play the Spurs. I miss my boys so. Will I be able to breathe before the day I buy those tickets to heaven? That I cannot say.
Let's hear it for a repeat!!!
UPDATE:
A Moment of genius insanity had me buy courtside seats to one of the games on Friday. My life is so good. My bank balance, not so good.
Let's hear it for a repeat!!!
UPDATE:
A Moment of genius insanity had me buy courtside seats to one of the games on Friday. My life is so good. My bank balance, not so good.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
James Brown
I know the James Brown of my Industry. I didn't know I knew him, and have in fact been out with him. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Renaldo.
In honor of this discovery, let's add in this video clip that is educational. Yes, that is the real James Brown, not Renaldo.
In honor of this discovery, let's add in this video clip that is educational. Yes, that is the real James Brown, not Renaldo.
What is it about the Accounting Department that makes them want to drink?
Maybe it's the fact that they deal with the dirty cold facts that underlie this place, that we are poor, and will perpetually be poor. Maybe it's the way they all secretly seem to hate each other. Maybe they are all so overworked that they have no friends to go out with in real life. But our accountants here tend to be BIG fans of the happy hour, and beyond. And Monday night, we went out to celebrate 10 years of service from our resident groupie, Susie.
Susie is crazy. She is the type of obsessive energy type person I talked about earlier in the Harry Potter post, except for minus the anime. Instead, add in Buffy, anything Sci-Fi and Fantasy, and soooo much more. She gets 6 weeks of vacation for her time served, and I think that almost every second of it is spent at some convention. Unfortunately, she missed Comi-Con this year, and will also take a miss on Dragon Con as well. But she has at least three more planned for the year. But what really makes her crazy is the fact she has been here for 10 years.
Never mind the fact that we have treated her horribly as an institution, and shuffled her around like some sort of rummy cube tile. She's here for the vacation.
Monday we went to a bar that has table that they must have pillaged from a massive garage sale of round end tables. They are all about the size of a postage stamp. Not designed for group visits. It is also dark and noisy, but plays sports of three tvs, which redeems is slightly. Since I don't drink, I often get bored and watch the tvs, since they are slightly less embarrassing than watching coworkers work on drinking themselves into the ground.
Since Accounting/ Finance is one of the largest admin. departments, I thought for sure there would be more people showing up. Battleaxe's low turnout numbers from that department would have been due to the fact she was an absolute witch (although she did once buy me a scone). I mean, 10 years is something.
Something to ignore, apparently. From what I hear, a total of 8 people showed, including myself and Susie. Henry was there, and it was clear he still had a thing for my coworker, so maybe it is not so tragic that he is leaving. It was a modified open tab, where you had a settling up at the start of each round. Pre-pay tab. I left early, so I can't comment on the success of this strategy, but I don't think that we ended up $120 in the hole.
So where were the absentee accountants? One had a legit excuse: planning for a wedding. He would have never heard the end of it if he had not reported for duty. The rest? MIA. Can't they even come and fake it through a single round? Friends don't let friends celebrate in a dismally attended affair.
Susie is crazy. She is the type of obsessive energy type person I talked about earlier in the Harry Potter post, except for minus the anime. Instead, add in Buffy, anything Sci-Fi and Fantasy, and soooo much more. She gets 6 weeks of vacation for her time served, and I think that almost every second of it is spent at some convention. Unfortunately, she missed Comi-Con this year, and will also take a miss on Dragon Con as well. But she has at least three more planned for the year. But what really makes her crazy is the fact she has been here for 10 years.
Never mind the fact that we have treated her horribly as an institution, and shuffled her around like some sort of rummy cube tile. She's here for the vacation.
Monday we went to a bar that has table that they must have pillaged from a massive garage sale of round end tables. They are all about the size of a postage stamp. Not designed for group visits. It is also dark and noisy, but plays sports of three tvs, which redeems is slightly. Since I don't drink, I often get bored and watch the tvs, since they are slightly less embarrassing than watching coworkers work on drinking themselves into the ground.
Since Accounting/ Finance is one of the largest admin. departments, I thought for sure there would be more people showing up. Battleaxe's low turnout numbers from that department would have been due to the fact she was an absolute witch (although she did once buy me a scone). I mean, 10 years is something.
Something to ignore, apparently. From what I hear, a total of 8 people showed, including myself and Susie. Henry was there, and it was clear he still had a thing for my coworker, so maybe it is not so tragic that he is leaving. It was a modified open tab, where you had a settling up at the start of each round. Pre-pay tab. I left early, so I can't comment on the success of this strategy, but I don't think that we ended up $120 in the hole.
So where were the absentee accountants? One had a legit excuse: planning for a wedding. He would have never heard the end of it if he had not reported for duty. The rest? MIA. Can't they even come and fake it through a single round? Friends don't let friends celebrate in a dismally attended affair.
Pictures are not always Eyewash
Not for everyone, and don't assume I agree with his analysis, but good heck, these things are funny. I can't wait for him to get to the Spurs pick. I also wish these were actual Little People. Pay attention, Fisher Price.
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