Tuesday, February 28, 2006
I had the usual at 2:00pm CST today, 2/28/06.
Wasn't feeling so hot this morning, so I didn't eat much for breakfast (just a bag of Special K vanilla Snack Bites) and didn't have any lunch. Apparently, that is the formula for me to be able to eat a whole burrito. As I rarely skip meals, I don't see this happening too often. Which is just fine by me! If I don't eat the whole burrito, I usually have the remainder later in the day for dinner or something.
Maybe I'll write a jingle for Chipotle... stay tuned. I might be on to something here.
Monday, February 27, 2006
I would say that he and I are a pretty normal married couple. We have our arguments, but we always make up later. He is actually the one that takes the high ground MOST often. I'm inclined to go off and sulk somewhere, and he doesn't allow for any of that. After we finish arguing (or yelling or screaming), he's always the one to walk over and "end the fight." That means, he comes up to me and hugs me until we both say we're sorry. Then a nice discussion follows, and life is good again. If it were left up to me, we'd both stay angry longer than necessary, and then where would we be? So, he's the good guy.
My favorite thing about us is when we just play around. We'll "mock fight" with each other... just for shits and giggles. We have one favorite saying whenever we do that, and it stems from a Target visit. Ah... Target. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. $100, $200... but I digress.
About a year ago, we're strolling through Target, as we are often apt to do, looking for MORE stuff to throw into the cart (we probably only stopped for dish detergent and a pack of gum. How do you end up spending $250 on dish detergent and gum??). As we stepped into the beer aisle, we noticed a guy who looked sorta like he was hiding. Just looking around at different six-packs... obviously, this guy wasn't on a shopping mission. He was carrying a magazine and a bag of pretzels. Pretty soon, a woman with two toddlers walks around the corner, pushing a cart. She is NOT happy.
Woman: WHERE have you BEEN?
Guy: Uh... well, I was looking for...
Woman: Did you get the diapers?
Guy: Uh... ummm... I wasn't sure what kind you wanted.
Woman: *extremely pissed, trying not to yell, but doing that stern-yet-held-back-nasty voice* WHAT?!?! We always buy the same diapers. Every single time. And if you ever paid attention to ANYTHING around you, you would know that by now. I asked you to go buy ONE thing... ONE! And you can't even get that right! So tell me, since when do they put diapers in the BEER AISLE!?!?
Guy: Uh.... (he likes this word a lot) *dopey grin* Sorry.
Woman: *grabbing him by the shirt* THIS is why we aren't going to be married for much longer!
Farm Boy and I just stood there, trying not to stare, reading ingredients on beer labels.
Me: "Gee honey, did you know they used barley and hops to make beer?"
Farm Boy: "Why, NO, dear. I did not know that. How fascinating!"
Hello? Awkward party? Your table is ready!
The sad thing is that, as soon as they walked away, we both started LAUGHING OUR ASSES OFF! And we performed that "show" for everyone who would listen to us for the rest of the night.
So, now... anytime one of us says anything that perturbs the other, we always break the ice with "THIS is why we aren't going to be married for much longer!" We bust up and then forget why we were getting annoyed in the first place. Ahhhhh..... other people's pain. SO amusing. We've never run into that couple again, but I wish we could. I want to thank them for the hours of merriment we've had at their expense.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
*disclaimer-- there is NO pressure to participate in this contest. I will still visit your blogs and welcome you to mine if you decide not to participate. There will be no "I'm taking my ball and going home" here. Nope. Not gonna do it. Even if it makes me feel like have NO friends whatsoever, I will not be a big baby if you don't join my contest. Not a tear. Not a sniffle. *sniffle* Okay, well, maybe ONE sniffle. ;-)
UPDATE: Red is now tied with Jaek. Both have 11 out of 15 correct. And no... I'm not telling which ones are correct. Yet.
Friday, February 24, 2006
The usual. Only ate half, though. Tummy still isn't feeling very ambitious. :-(
Yummmmmmmmyyyyy! Oh, dear, sweet Chipotle! I revel in your burrito-tasty-goodness. Your salty lime chips give me such happiness... I fear I am becoming dependent upon you to bring me some source of satisfaction in my life. But basically, what I'm feeling right now is this: if loving you is wrong, I don't wanna be right!
On a completely unrelated note, any comments about the contest?
- Not worthwhile?
- Too hard?
- Too easy?
- Who gives a flying... fig?
I want feedback, Internets! Do you hear me? I live to serve, and I just want everyone to have some fun.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
- Find your answers any way you can.
- Only emailed answers will be accepted (My email address is SOMEWHERE in this blog. You have to find that, too. HINT: it's in the template somewhere).
- First email with all the correct answers will win a choice of a $25 Target gift card or $25 in Chipotle gift cards (Yes, you have to send me your real address, so that I can mail it to you). If you live outside the US, we'll cut a deal for $25 in SOMETHING.
- Consolation prizes will only be awarded if no one guesses all questions correctly. The person with the most correct guesses will be awarded a consolation prize. Consolation prizes are "mystery bags." Ya get what ya get. (oh, and I didn't forget that I STILL owe MPB and Ludi their own songs. It will happen. I promise!)
- Contest starts as soon as I post. Contest ends at 11:59pm CST, March 10, 2006. Or until someone gets all the answers correct. Whichever comes first.
Those are all the rules... here are all the questions:
- How far away do I live from the meat packers that just won the biggest Powerball ever? (approximately, plus/minus 10 miles)
- How many kids do my husband and I have?
- How many total posts do I have in my picture blog (as of 2/23/06)?
- How old am I?
- What am I doing in the only picture I posted where you can see my face?
- What cartoon character did my Christmas cookies resemble?
- What is my favorite hockey team?
- What is my fish’s name?
- What is one of my biggest pet peeves (it’s actually in a post, stated exactly as such)?
- What is the main ingredient in my favorite drink?
- What rejected crayon am I?
- What was the date when I finished an entire Chipotle burrito for the first time ever?
- What was the first “Quote I Can’t Stop Using” in my sidebar, and whom was I quoting?
- Who is my favorite actor?
- Who was the first person to ever comment on my blog?
Okay, so I know this is shameless, but I'm interested to see if anyone will actually get them all right. This could be fun. Really. I'm not lying. Good, clean fun.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
In the trials, Lydia Ierodiaconou, one of the Australian freestyle skiers, had a pretty cool jump... until she landed. She came down on her left knee ... and it buckled. All I can say is that is just looked wrong. Then you could hear her screaming. She kept rolling down the hill. The skis were going in all different directions, and her left knee was turned yet again. More screaming. And the cameras kept rolling. Even the commentators stopped talking for a minute or two (except for an "Oh my God"). That should have been enough, right? NOPE. Not for NBC. They had to replay it. IN SLOW MO.
It's not bad enough that we saw it the first time. It's not bad enough that you know this woman will have to have a total knee reconstruction. Again (she had a previous knee injury in June). Let's show it again for all those poor, insomniac slobs who missed it the first time.
THIS is why I hate watching the Olympics. It's all cool when everyone is doing great, celebrating their medals and outstanding athletic feats. But I just cannot stomach watching the cameras document every single millisecond of someone getting seriously hurt. If I wanted to watch athletes getting hurt, I'd watch The Other Side of the Mountain, or Ice Castles, or some other sappy 70s movie.
For the love of Bob, NBC! Please don't show us the instant replay. Some of us feel other people's pain too deeply. No shit... my freaking knee hurt all day long. Gah!
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Next, select five people to tag.
Don't worry if you don't want to do it. I'll just make fun of you for the rest of the month. ha... just kidding
2. Master Peebody
*Remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom slot*
1. a girl named inky
3. The Movie Monkey
4. Paisley Propaganda
5. Grumpy Frump
What were you doing 10 years ago?
Teaching 7-12 vocal music and practically living at the school. Rarely saw my own children or (ex-)husband. Trying VERY hard to be happy, but not succeeding.
What were you doing one year ago?
Dealing with debilitating fatigue. I missed a lot of work, and people thought I was a flake because I slept all the time. After switching doctors (the first one was absolutely certain I was depressed, and she kept me on antidepressants that made me even sleepier), I learned that I had polyps in my sinus cavities. Apparently, this affects your breathing enough that you become oxygen-deprived. Lack of oxygen=fatigued. After sinus surgery, I was a new woman!
Five snacks you enjoy:
1. chips from Chipotle (sea salt and lime)
2. cherry Twizzlers
3. pita chips and hummus (me, too, Paisley!!)
4. wine and cheese
Five songs you know all the words to:
1. Don't Stop Me Now (Queen)
2. Santeria (Sublime)
3. The Muppet Show Theme song
4. O mio babbino caro from Puccini's Gianni Schicchi (I was a voice major, okay?)
5. I Let A Song Go Out of My Heart (Ella Fitzgerald)
Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:
1. Pay off all our debt.
2. Throw some of it into accounts for the four kids' college funds.
3. Buy an acreage. Not a farm. Just an acreage.
4. Take Farm Boy, Westley to Paris.
5. Take Farm Boy, Westley to Australia (okay, maybe the kids can come. MAYBE.)
Five bad habits:
1. Thinking I'm SuperMom who can do everything
3. Always having to be right
4. Sleeping in when I should get up and do something (work out, do laundry, etc.)
5. Crying when I get angry
Five things you enjoy doing:
1. Spending time with my family
3. Singing--actually anything that involves music
Five things you would never wear:
1. Leggings or lycra shorts (unless I'm working out at home when no one else can see me)
2. Any top that plays "peekaboo" with my bra
3. Anything that Bai Ling would wear
4. Neon colors
5. A scrunchie (unless I'm wearing it to bed)
Five favorite toys(/games):
3. NTN Trivia (I'm addicted)
5. Any quiz game where I can boastfully show you how intelligent I am... just kidding-- actually, I just like to gloat when I win. My brain effortlessly remembers absolutely useless facts, so I happen to excel at trivia and quiz games. Gee, it's sad that this is something that makes me feel good. I need a life.
2. I AM going to have a contest!! Details will be up Friday, 2/24.
3. Haven't even started my taxes yet. Since the Farm Boy, Westley, started his own company last year, it might be wise for us to do our taxes separately. So, what am I waiting for? Sheesh! I could have this huge refund just WAITING for me!
4. My Darren mug arrived over the weekend. Here's a picture of the mug at my office (note the Wee Little Garden Gnome... he snuck into the picture, I swear! What a ham!):
Saturday, February 18, 2006
1. Why didn't I get the chocolate gene? I'm not complaining... really. In fact, it's probably a blessing in disguise. My sister will do just about anything for chocolate. We actually beg her to eat a little each day. She's much nicer that way. ME? Nope. I have to be in the mood for chocolate. Now, wave some cherry Twizzlers at me, and I'm a goner.
2. Why do people's houses have a distinct SMELL? Like, you can be blindfolded, carried into a van, driven around in circles to become confused, have someone lead you into a house of someone you know... and you can SMELL where you are. "Yep. That's my mom's house." "Ah, we're at the Brother's house." And it's not pet odor, body odor, filthy garbage, or anything like that. It's just a SMELL. Some are pleasant. Some are not so pleasant. What the hell causes that SMELL??!?!?!?
3. My nephew and my husband (and his twin) had a birthday yesterday. Nephew's 1st birthday party was today. That kids has more toys than he could possibly play with. He got the coolest stuff... remote control car, a basketball hoop, a Little Tykes car... you name it, he got it. After he opened all his presents, he toddled out to the front door and played Open, Shut, Open, Shut. Screw the presents. All he wants to play with is a door. Oh, well. At least it wasn't a box.
4. I don't have to go to work on Monday. Ah, sweet Lincoln's mullet! I'm going to sleep in. I am going to get my hair cut. I'm even going to let some masochistic physical therapist bend me around like a pretzel. But I don't have to go to work. Yippee.
5. I'm thinking of holding a contest. I just have to make it up first. ;-) Stay tuned.
Friday, February 17, 2006
The Usual (veggie burrito- black beans, rice, sour cream, extra cheese, lettuce; chips, Diet Coke).
I didn't have lunch yesterday, so I was starving. I almost ate the whole thing. We'll call this one a 75%-er. Mmmmmmmm!
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Math Teacher: "If you're carrying a backpack of rocks weighing 20kg, how much additional weight can you carry in the backpack before there is a noticeable difference?" *
Stoner behind me in class: "Dude, why would I be carrying a backpack of rocks?!?! I would rather carry snacks... like graham crackers, vanilla frosting, and chocolate. 'Cause you never know when you're gonna want s'mores!"
Math Teacher, going with the flow: "Okay. So, you're carrying 20g of snacks. How much additional SNACKAGE can you carry in the backpack before there is a noticeable difference?"
It was actually one of the coolest lessons in math. I was a brainiac in school, so I always paid attention. But this lesson got EVERYONE involved. Yep, even the stoners. I think they were trying to figure out how much weed they could keep in their lockers before the administrators caught on to them.
So... I got to thinking today about noticeable difference again. 'Cause I'm really hating my hair right now. Huh? I know. This is a huge stretch... but stick with me for a wee little bit.
Right after I get my hair cut, I usually hate it for about a week. Then I can live with it. About two weeks after the hair cut, I absolutely love it. It's perfect. Another week later... meh. It's okay. Then all of a sudden... WHAMMO! It doesn't work at all, and my bangs are hanging in my eyes. (And if anyone suggests that I grow out my bangs so I don't have to worry about this... just stop. Stop right there. I have that FOREHEAD thing. As in big forehead. A boyfriend in high school once told me that I could hang a billboard on my forehead. Yeah... he was an ass. But I never forgot it! Bangs are a must on this chick. End of argument.)
So, how can my bangs be just fine one day, and then the next... I look like Sam Sheepdog trying to keep Ralph Wolf away from the lambs??
What is the noticeable difference when it comes to the length of bangs? Lest anyone think I'm aiming for humor here (sorry Aussies... "humour"), let me assure you: I'm not. I really want to know!
*Technically, the noticeable difference for this example is 1kg.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Monday, February 13, 2006
Guy working at said counter: "May I help you?"
Woman with 4 kids under the age of 10 who has been standing in line in front of me for 10 minutes waiting for the people in front of her to finish their orders: "Hi. This is going to be a takeout order." [NO! Really? There are no seats here. You can only get takeout, you blithering idiot.]
Counter guy, now with furrowed brow: "What would you like?"
Woman, turning to 4 year old daughter: "What would you like, honey?" [Really? You're just asking her now? After we've been in line for 10 minutes?]
4 year old: "Chicken."
Woman: "What kind of chicken, sweetie?"
4 year old: "Semasamesee chicken!"
Woman: "Sesame chicken? You don't like Sesame chicken, honey!"
4 year old: "Yes I do."
Woman: "No, honey. You don't. You should get Sweet and Sour chicken."
4 year old: "No, I want Semasamesee Chicken!!!"
Woman: "No. You don't like that kind. You're going to get Sweet and Sour chicken."
[This actually continues back and forth a few more times, but you get the picture.]
Woman [FINALLY]: "She'll have the Sweet and Sour chicken." [If you weren't going to let her get what she wanted in the first place, why did you even ask her?!?!?]
Woman, turning to 7 year old boy: "What would YOU like, baby?" [Audible groan from everyone behind me]
7 year old boy: "General Chicken."
Woman: "No, that's too spicy for you. Why don't you get Almond Chicken?"
7 year old boy: "No, I LIKE General Chicken!" [Here we go again. Everyone behind me is muttering threats. I begin to think maybe I should get out of their way or something.]
College-age guy behind me: "Hey, lady! Just order what YOU want them to have and get the hell outta the way!"
Woman: "Well, the NERVE of some people! I have a family to feed, and I think you should respect the fact that I'm a working mom and this is all the time we have..." [I tuned her out somewhere around here.]
[Counter guy grins maniacally as he starts handing cleavers and other sharp objects to impatient, waiting crowd.] (just kidding)
Finally, she gets all her kids ordered. Then she can't decide what SHE wants to eat. After all this, she screws up the poor girl working the cash register. She gives her one bill. The girl punches everything into the register and starts to hand her change back...
Woman: "Oh, can we do that differently? I forgot that I wanted to save that bill for something else."
Cash register girl, with blank stare and open mouth: "Uhhhh...."
Manager who luckily appears because I have taken exactly 30 seconds to order my daughter's food and I need to leave NOW: "Ma'am, I can help you at this register."
Yay!!! I can go now!!! I'm not going to be late to get her food to her before her practice starts! YAY!!!!
Oh... SHIT. He called me MA'AM. Just as things were looking up... Pfffffffffffffffttttttttt.
Okay, so I didn't really keep track in January. Much. Except for January 9. But I digress. I'll start keeping track for February (except that I was sick for most of the start of February, so now I'm not off to a good start).
Here it is:
February 3 (only ate half)
February 10 (I remember distinctly that this was LUNCH-- only ate half)
February 13 (dinner--only ate half)
Yummo. I eat the same thing every time: Veggie burrito (black beans, rice, a little sour cream, cheese, and lettuce), Chips, Diet Coke.
Friday, February 10, 2006
I love messing with other people’s kids. Not in an evil, sinister (or illegal) way... just enough to get under the skin of their parents. It’s actually pretty easy, here are some ideas for starters:
- Provide semi-incorrect information that parents have to correct later—“Why, Joey, I thought you knew about the gnomes. They come into your bedroom every night looking for ONE sock. That’s why it seems like you can only ever find one sock at a time. The gnomes have your other one. I'm not really sure what they do with it, though.”
- “Accidentally” let harmless secrets out about their parents… nothing seriously damaging, but something that will really open their eyes. This really only works with older kids, but it can be fun. (Real life example after list)
- Call them by a name other than their own. Be sure it’s one they wouldn’t necessarily like much. When they ask why you keep calling them that, tell them that it’s their real name (“it’s even on your birth certificate!”). Say it’s a family name that their parents HAD to give them, and they use a nickname to save them the embarrassment at school. My sister has called my youngest daughter “Clyde” since she was a baby. My uncle always called my brother “Alice.”
When I was a kid, my uncles and my cousins tormented me. They didn’t just tease me. They TORMENTED me until I was in tears. Then they’d laugh and walk off. Oddly enough, if I could have just learned to roll with the punches, they probably would have given up. But NOOOO. I was a big baby. As I grew older (and a little wiser), I was one of the first grandchildren, as well as the first in my immediate family, to have children. So, where they all left off with me, they started right back up again with my kids. Luckily, my kids were a little tougher than I was, but they still got some of “the treatment.” So, now PAYBACK is sweet. I’m armed and dangerous with some pretty strong ammunition. (again, take this with a small grain of salt. I’m not entirely evil)
Here’s an example of a real-life situation… but you need just a bit of background info on me… my oldest daughter was born when I was 20 years old. She came exactly 7 months after her father and I were married, and she wasn’t premature. We were young, engaged, and not patient. Long story short, we both thought we’d wait until she was older to discuss the nature of her conception. After her father and I divorced, we disagreed upon when was the best time to talk to her. I felt she should know at age 12, and he felt we should wait until she was at least 15 or so. Well, it backfired on him. Because she found out… from a family friend… accidentally… DURING HIS WEDDING RECEPTION two years ago. As she did the math, her eyes grew large, and she marched up to the wedding table to confront him. Since then, my sister has encouraged my daughter to call me “SLUT” at every opportunity. She did it once. Once. She’s a smart kid. She learns from mistakes. Even if she has to have a mouth full of soap to learn something, she never makes the same mistake.
Fast forward a couple of months… we’re in Las Vegas at some stupid dance competition. The hotel room houses my cousin, my sister, her daughter, my oldest daughter, and me (WAY too many females for one room!). Again, my sister is reminding my daughter of how I am such a slut… blah, blah, blah… then my niece brings up the fact that she found condoms in my parents’ house. She knows this, because she and my sister were staying with my parents for a few months. Now, my parents are young (late 50s) and technically could still be using condoms. But I know that my dad has had a vasectomy. I also know that my single sister had a visitor one night when mom, dad, and niece were out of town. She and Mr. Booty Poodle were the condom users. So, I blurt out to my niece, “Well, why would Grandma and Grandpa need condoms? Grandpa had a vasectomy! They MUST belong to someone else.” She’s not a stupid kid. It took her all of 5 seconds to figure that one out. Ah… sweet revenge. She was so grossed out; she could hardly look at my sister for the rest of the night!
After thinking about all of this… I’m usually not one for huge doses of revenge. The worst payback I’ll give my brother is teaching his son how to play a song on the piano… a song my brother hates. That’s not mean, just slightly mischievous. I guess the only truly heinous retaliation was the story above. But she totally deserved it. Totally.
1. For those enquiring minds... My New Fave Drink-- Diet Sierra Mist (or 7-Up or any other lemony-lime soda), Skyy Berry vodka, grenadine, a splash of orange juice, and a splash of cranberry juice. The girl who makes it calls it the "Krazy Kat." Tasty. And nutritious, too! I have no idea how much of what, but I'm pretty sure half of it is the lemony-lime soda.
2. Being sick REALLY sucks. Just when I think I'm getting better, WHAMMO. Nope. Still sick. I'm fine, if I don't eat. But I'm hypoglycemic... so if I don't eat, I get sick. If I eat, I still get sick. Grrr. Thanks for all the well wishes, though!
3. I missed reading all my Cool Kids! I feel like I have been away for so long. (is this the talk of an addict... or a really crazy person?)
4. I finished Adriane on the Edge. Man, that really sucked. Not just the beginning, nor the middle, nor the end... but the WHOLE THING. I kept thinking, "No one would actually do that. No one is THAT mental. Seriously." It was just a bad read. Oh, well... moving on to next book.
5. I was GOING to post this late on Thursday night. Nope. ANOTHER outage. Are we getting some really cool new features for all the recent outages, or are they just adding more servers, etc.?
6. When is my Darren mug going to arrive?!?!?
7. In my next post, I'm going to recount some funny stories about how to screw up other people's kids... not in the seriously harmful way, but in the light-hearted, slightly twisted way that is payback for what they did to YOU when you were a kid, or what they did to your kids. Stay tuned. (Okay, so this isn't really so much a teaser as it is a reminder for me. Just smile knowingly at me, since you know my memory is slowly drifting out of my spindly grasp)
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Monday, February 06, 2006
To achieve this goal, I have to read about 3 or 4 books per month. Again, not a difficult thing to do. I love to read, and I'm pretty quick about it. The only time I take a break from this is when I'm taking 6 or more hours per semester of grad classes. I'll usually be happy with about 25-30 books per year during that time.
So... here it is... February 6. And I've only read THREE BOOKS this year. Technically, I haven't even finished the third one. This sucks. The first one was a really short one, so that was easy. The last two, though, have been incredibly slow reads.
The first was Not In Kansas Anymore by Christine Wicker. It wasn't horrible... just not what I expected. The book is a study on magic in America. The author interviews Wiccans, hoodoo practitioners, voodoo priests, vampyres (yes, they spell it that way), elves, and other people who believe they are magical beings. My review? EH. It was a slow read. I like Wicker's other stuff, but I really think she needs to learn how to use commas (if you've read her at all, you know what I mean).
The other book I'm currently trying to finish is Adriane On The Edge by Paul Mandelbaum. First, there are very few men who can write from a woman's perspective (even if it's third person omniscient) and truly capture the way a woman thinks and feels. I don't think Mandelbaum is one of them (before anyone labels me sexist, know that I wouldn't write a novel from a man's perspective either. I wouldn't be able to capture a man's mind). Sometimes, I think Mandelbaum misses the boat entirely. Other times, his transitions from chapter to chapter are so abrupt, I think, "Wait! What just happened?!? Anyway, this is another very slow read, and I'm frustrated trying to get through it. I REALLY have to hate a book to not finish it. I don't hate this one, but I don't like it either.
I have quite a few books queuing up that I really want to read, including a "re-read" of To Kill A Mockingbird. Haven't read that since I was 12. I guess I'll just have to tough these two out and then get cooking. Taking a break from blogging and reading blogs might help, too... but how could I ever do that? :-)
Friday, February 03, 2006
I probably shouldn’t go to the hockey game tonight. But I’m going to.
I really shouldn’t have my new favorite drink at the game tonight. But I will.
In fact, I might have two... or ten.
Happy Friday, Internets.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
So, as I'm freaking out about the possibility of this being a repetitive motion "injury," I thought to myself... I don't really even use my thumb when I type. Hardly ever.
Then I realized... I use my thumb when I ALT-TAB. As in, reading blogs... oops. Someone's coming. AlT-TAB. Working on a spreadsheet. Onion boy passes by the cube and keeps on walking. ALT-TAB. Back to reading Jurgen. Oops. Here comes Scary Old Guy. ALT-TAB. Working on a staff e-survey. He stops in for another question (somebody shoot me if I have to answer one more question about how to save to the server). ALT-TAB. On to reading Nabbalicious. On and on like this all day (I have to read all The Cool Kids everyday. I just have to... ).
So, I have a few choices:
1. Stop reading blogs/blogging while at work. (I'm such a good multi-tasker, though!)
2. Reconfigure my keyboard, so that another key combination switches windows on the desktop.
3. Tough it out and stop acting like such a wuss.
Right now, #2 looks like the best option.
*wondering if ALT-TAB injuries qualify for paid disability leave*
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Today, we received notice of the upcoming workshops for the next few months. One is titled How to Deal With People Who Drive You Crazy. It’s a one-hour workshop that helps you learn why some people do things to annoy others, and it also provides some “tried and true” strategies to help you deal with these people.
ONE HOUR? Yeah. Good luck. I can think of 10 people just off the top of my head that drive me crazy in my workplace. One hour wouldn’t even get through the first guy’s many levels of psychosis. Or the need for one woman to embarrass or berate anyone she encounters. Or the cubie neighbor’s insatiable need to consume as many raw onions as he can in one sitting. Or the perpetual blank stare on Old Guy’s face when you ask him anything of a technical nature. Or the two 40ish women who can't stop whispering about everyone in the meeting. What? Is this 7th grade?
So, I guess the bigger question is: If more than a few people drive you crazy, is it really THEM? Or... is it THEE? THOU? Who, ME???? I’m generally a pretty tolerant person. Mostly. Well, okay, sorta. Is it me? Let's look at a few things.
Here are 3 things I can’t tolerate in the workplace:
Ignorance is one thing. That’s why I became a teacher many moons ago. I wanted to teach people things they didn’t know. I don’t fault people for general ignorance. So, no... it's not about ignorance.
I define Stupidity, though, as the state of knowing better but being too lazy to do anything about it. It’s 2006, and you STILL don’t know how to turn on a computer?!? That’s stupid. No, the mouse does not work if you move it around on the monitor screen. Well, okay… technically, it does, but you can’t see what you’re doing. Arrrgggh! Get out of here before I kill you now.
2. Resistance to CHANGE
Things change. That’s life. Get over it. Get over yourself. Move on. If everything stayed the same, well… I’d still have big 80s hair, purple eyeshadow, and would be dressing like a character in Flashdance or Fame. FOR THIS REASON ALONE… I relish change. Thank GOD.
3. Other people stepping into my “bubble.”
I know, I know! I’m cute, and I look friendly. I know you just want to come up and hug me or rub my shoulders or put your arm around me. But don’t. Just. Don’t. Otherwise, you will be pulling back a bloody stump. NO TOUCHY! Yes, that means YOU. Now, if I have given you permission to do any of the above… go right ahead. You are in the circle of trust. Everyone else... stay the hell away.
That's pretty much it. If you're a hard worker, nice to other people, willing to learn new things, and keep your freaking hands off me... you will not drive me crazy. So, maybe they should offer a class called How To Be NORMAL And Not Drive Everyone Else Crazy. Yeah, why should I have to go to class because they're all a bunch of looneys?
Random terms for today: Jon Heder, ballerina, 35mm, red fish blue fish