The Hanukkah Nerd Strikes

On Wednesday, the last night of Hanukkah, my mom got me the all time nerdiest present that I have actually been longingly coveting for quite some time. A book weight. Yes, it sounds simple, but let us discuss this further.

It’s a beautiful leather oblong shaped item (my boss asked me if my mother had purchased me an S&M tool… the answer is no you sick freak – my mother and I have very different taste in S&M tools) with weights on either end and my initials embossed in the center. It holds your book open perfectly, leaving your hands to do a variety of important tasks while you read. Such as:

• Eat
• Pick your nose
• Play with your hair
• Text someone without losing your place in your book
• Eat

It is actually my favorite gift I can remember receiving in quite some time. So I say Chag Sameach to you Hanukkah Nerd!

Things That Are Embarrassing That You Didn’t Even Know You Should Be Worrying About

When you sit down too fast, and you are wearing a skirt, and your thighs literally slap together and make a loud “Clap!”, and everybody looks around and what you really want to say is “Oh, never you mind that, that was just my thighs applauding themselves for being so large and phonic” but what you actually do is look around frantically for a tiny clapping gnome.

When It's Okay to Look for Another Job at Work

1. When your entire department is at a meeting.
2. When your entire department is in the bathroom (trickier to determine and doesn’t happen very often).
3. On your iPhone during lunch.

4. When the rest of your department gets to travel and you are ordered to stay behind and man (even though you are a Woman) the office.
5. When your boss is in a really bad mood, taking it out on you, and sitting only feet away in her own office and you decide to tempt fate because “you HOPE you get caught and fired”.
6. Actually, probably never, I’m sure any computer person worth their salt could easily sneak a peek at absolutely everything you’re doing every day…

A Shout Out to Swaziland

Hey! If you are the person who keeps reading my blog every week from Swaziland, I just wanted to say “Hey!”

I think it’s just about the neatest thing about me that Swazilians (Swazimanians? Swazilites?) have read my words from their Land of Swaz.

Keep up the great reading.

Blarghhhh

I resolved to write at least 2 blog posts today, since I haven’t written in awhile, because I keep having too much goddamn work at work. And Lord knows I’m not blogging from home, I have better things to do people. Jeez.

Unfortunately, I have just ingested a ginormous fajita bowl, eaten entirely with chips (no fork necessary) in under 4 minutes and am now staring longingly at a foil tube of tortillas trying to figure out how to fit them into my bulging food receptacle. So to be frank, I am now far too full and sleepy to blog.

You’ll all just have to freaking deal.

Kanye's Peen

Lay

: i don't know i can't tell if its you know
: at attention or not
: it doesn't frighten me

Me

: hmmm
: were you expecting to be frightened?

Lay

: well it's kanye's penis

Me

: is amber there?

Lay

: apparently he sent a picture text to a lady friend
: i don't think they're together anymore?

Me

: oh
: well i feel like
: once you bone kanye
: when he feels like boning again
: whether you are "together" or not
: you just do that

Lay

: yeah i guess

Why Pumpkin Carving is the Business

1. You get to use your hands and touch creepy, gooey, gut-like substances which makes you feel for a few moments like you are not a grown-up
2. You get to saw at things that have a satisfying, hollow, reverberating sound to them
3. You get to put fire inside a vegetable to make art (who thought of this??)
4. Pumpkin seeds
5. Pumpkin pie
6. Standing in your driveway at 9:00 pm admiring your own creative prowess
7. Fun shit like ghosts and bats
8. Pumpkin seeds.

**Actual Ghost-Pumpkin 2010 pictured above. Booyah.

My Secret Skill

I am an athlete. Maybe not in the conventional sense, but my athleticism is derived from an innate skill, a true gift. The arena for my talent is limited, but each time I get to use it, I get a sense of true accomplishment and serenity.

From the toilet, I can sink my tampon wrapper into the trashcan EVERY time. Nothing. But. Net.

This skill is not celebrated as it should be. In fact, were I to bring this up in polite company, I would no doubt be ostracized. I want my day in the sun. But for now, I will just have to be content that I know my own secret. And now so do you 7. And anyone ingenious enough to search crap on the internet.

Death by Stupid or: How the Food Network Led to the Fall of Man

I recently enrolled in a baking class, and have come to witness yet another way in which TV (my first love) is causing society to degenerate. Goddamn cooking shows.

Look people, we all paid a lot of money to be here, there is no reason to be rushing around shoving each other, watering counters in vanilla extract and behaving as though eggs are New Year’s Eve poppers. And just because running with knives is super dangerous and tricky, does not mean it will be extra rewarding if you make it. It just makes you extra dumb.

Also I make a damn fine streusel muffin. Did I mention I’m getting fat?

The Undie Approximation

I just went to Austin, TX on business and it reminded me that I have an important packing tip to share with ya’ll (some Texan vernacular I picked up while in the region):

You can never pack too much underwear.

I don’t want to even get into the amount of crazy nonsense that can go wrong, requiring you to change your undies, but let’s just say when you get home after a trip where you had too much BBQ and sweet tea, got into a cab in the middle of nowhere, took said cab down a dark, winding road for 40 minutes while your cab driver spouts political ideology in a Borat-esque accent causing you to laugh so hard you pee your pants a little… you aren’t going to go to unpack and say to yourself “Ef. I packed too much underwear”.

Here’s why I don’t care about your boyfriend

1. He’s your boyfriend

2. He’s not my boyfriend

3. You get to have sex on a regular basis

4. Whatever it is, it’s probably your fault (quit harassing the poor guy)

5. Unless he’s actually beating you, anything he does is worth an automatic date to work functions/family functions/casual acquaintances’ birthdays/religious events

6. At some point, because of him, I will have to watch/hear/be exposed to sports

7. You make nauseating faces when you check your text messages

8. Please see 3.

Evolving Elevators

Other people at work may wonder - why does she park directly next to the elevator on the first floor of the parking structure? Convenience mainly, but also something more. People get all ambitious taking the stairs at work, choosing stairs at the mall, purposefully parking farther away than necessary to ensure they get the maximum amount of “exercise” in their day.

Really though, this is akin to slapping evolution in the face. Millions of years ago an amoeba emerged from the primordial ooze, then there were chimps, then us (dinosaurs and mammoths were in there somewhere as well). And then one day, one of us invented the goddamn elevator. A tiny room that transports you where you want to go, while you just stand there. And you are going to purposefully avoid it?? I hope a chimp spanks you with a tree branch. I’m a better human than you.

Childhood

Things that didn’t make sense when I was a kid (and to be honest still kind of don’t) –

1. The significance of numbers on sports jerseys
2. Why, if there is an incredibly long line at a store, you can’t just pick up what you want, throw more than that amount of cash onto the register, and walk out
3. How sea cucumbers vomit up all of their internal organs as a decoy and survive to make more
4. Rap music
5. Why you can’t use your textbook during a test
6. Spam (the canned meat)
7. How do several thousand/million ton metal objects stay in the sky (airplanes) or above water (boats)
8. Belly buttons

The Customer Is Always An Idiot

Why is stellar customer service so incredibly effective? It is almost as if I forget the person is being so nice to me because I have already paid them or they are hoping to make some/a little/a lot of money off of me. It is almost as if I forget what it was like to be a personal shopper myself.

Suddenly I think:

Yes! I DO look amazing in this dress!
Yes! I CAN afford to buy 9 colors of nail polish right now!
How have I lived this long WITHOUT this insanely sophisticated cell phone??

Thank you for convincing me to spend what little money I have on completely useless shit. Really, thank you.

Why I Deserve to Be Fat

Last night I went to the gym. It was my first time at a new gym, so I didn't really have a routine yet. I got into the locker room (which was a little skuzzy), and began to change into comfy workout clothes. It then occurred to me that I did not have a padlock for one of the many lockers. Obviously I was not about to leave my purse inside the locker of a skuzzy locker room, that is just asking for trouble. So I resolved to continue changing and bring my stuff back to my car when I was done.

Then I realized I had no socks. I had no lock and no socks. So I finished changing, put my bare feet into running shoes – ick – and began the walk back to my car.

The walk back to my car is long. At least 3 minutes long. So obviously I got to my car, said “fuck it” and drove home. And ate 4 scones in the car.

(Please see entry title)

Small Fish, Big Castle

I regretfully inform the milleniallity readership that Solomon (Sol) Jose passed in the early morning on Sunday, October 10, 2010.

He was a good betta fish, and he will be remembered. Whether he was sucking tiny fish food pellets into his mouth and then spitting them back out, playing with a laser pointer, or just hanging out, he was spreading joy with every little glub and bloop.

I would also recommend to all current and future betta owners, consider the size of your castle before you purchase. Apparently, it is possible for them to be too big.

My Very Own Nobel

I think one of my greatest skills is the ability to dramatically, accurately, and humorously (when appropriate) recount each and every episode of “Intervention” ever produced. I bring people together, engaging them in a dialogue about substance abuse and the inherent entertainment value of Christy, and her naked, satanic, geometry proofs or Allison and her huffing-induced vocal gymnastics.
I maintain a delicate balance between genuine compassion and giddy enthusiasm, and I take you along for the ride. Pretty sure I should’ve gotten the Nobel today. Well deserved self.

My So Called Talent

Thank god I am not a musician. Besides lacking the more obvious talents (ability to play an instrument, read music, sing on key), I am severely lacking in the department of heartbreak. Both giving and receiving. I feel fairly confident in saying my heart has never really been broken, and I would hazard a guess that I have not broken any hearts either.

Nobody with my life would ever write a song because they would be called things like:

“The Brown Spot On My Banana This Morning”

“I Bet You Can’t Do Data Entry This Fast”

“Holy Hell I Just Stubbed My Toe So Bad”

“If My Mom Drunk Dials Me One More Time, I Swear…”

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Annnnnd… we’re back!

Yes, all 5 of my blog-readers (and closest friends), I have not been writing as often as I should have (or at all). This is due mainly to my profound propensity for laziness. A laziness that is really unrivaled in all my experiences and travels. Of course as part of this laziness, there is a preoccupation with making excuses so I should also probably mention I had consumption.

Yup, you read that correctly – consumption. Consumption of the Jane Austen, John Keats, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, “get yourself off the cold, damp, coast of England to hotter, dryer climes” variety of consumption. My eyeballs nearly melted and dripped out of my skull from fever and so I didn’t really feel like sharing my thoughts (such as: ouch, ouch, cough, cough, holy shit I’m tired) with you lot.

And apparently writing in a blog is much like going to the gym or any other activity that is hard to do but ultimately rewarding, in that if you fall out of the habit, it is nearly impossible to take it up again. So in conclusion:

1. lazy

2. consumption

3. lazy

4. I missed you guys too.

Hair (the neck-kind)

I have a complex relationship with the thick black hair that grows out of the middle of my neck.

On the one hand, I admire its tenacity. Thicker and blacker than the rest of my hair, it has chosen a pore in the direct center of my neck to make its home. Were this hair on my head, people would complement me on the freakishly rapid growth of my thick, shiny locks. They would ask me what product I use and “tsk, tsk” when I told them my shampoo would whip their hair into shape, knowing I was just trying to ease the situation, believing my genes were just plain superior.

As it is, I am in a constant war with my tweezers; drawing blood on my quest to pull this hair out, root and all, pleading to a higher power this will be the last time I pluck the fertile jerk from the tender epidermal layer that softly covers my esophagus.

The battle is not over until I have purchased a turtle-neck. Scarves don’t count.

Tessellate

I am so glad that Subway recently mandated that all cheese slices in their establishment would be tessellated on each sandwich they made. Before the Great Tessellation you ran the risk of taking a bite completely devoid of cheese.

In a country where an average of 60% of our eligible citizens turn out to vote for President, it warms my heart that enough people spoke up about cheese-less bites to alter the policy of a 9 billion dollar sandwich franchise.

God Bless America. And cheese.

Monday

Ways to improve my boss’ mood on a Monday morning:

1. Make sure there is a ripe (but not too ripe) banana waiting on her desk when she gets in; an hour after I do.
2. Tell her that her hair looks good.
3. Tell her something this weekend reminded me of her, make sure that something is young and hip, prompting her to smile in an “I feel so included in your generation”-kind-of-way.
4. Tell her I like her blouse.
5. Ask her if she wants anything to eat (the more often I ask, the more likely she is to say “no” a few times, this makes her feel skinny).
6. Ask if I already told her that her hair looks good?
7. Remind her that it’s almost time for her to leave.
8. Get her out the door and promise there is nothing to worry about (3 hours before I leave).

Ouch

Can something be so cute it kills?

I am watching baby sloths play:
http://tv.gawker.com/5608524/a-closer-look-at-the-sloth-sanctuary-too-much-cuteness-to-handle

And I don’t understand how I can love a little creature, that I have never met, so much it makes my womb ache.

If I write them a really nice letter, will they FedEx me a baby sloth?

Since 9:00 am

Things that I have done today since 9:00 am and am already bored:

Got to work.
Checked my email.
Checked my voicemail.
Checked Facebook.
Checked Jezebel.com.
Checked Gilt.com.
Checked my email.
Checked Swirl.com.
YouTubed “Gary Busey endocrine system”.
YouTubed “Christian Bale vs. Mel Gibson”.
Googled “endocrine system”.
Checked my email.
Googled “murder rate Mexico”.
Googled “where does all the trash go”.
Googled “Lindsay Lohan rehab”.
Checked my email.

My boy Ernest

Me 2:39 pm
what do you think Hemingway and I would talk about if we were drunk in Paris together?

Lay 2:40 pm
hmm
i don't know

Me 2:40 pm
hopefully we'd just bone cause he was fiiiiine
our children would have CRAZY eyebrows though

Lay 2:50 pm
well thank god you've worked it out

Apocalypse soon

You know how the sun is constantly expanding and will turn into a red giant and burn out, but long before that happens it will singe the Earth back to an almost molten form?

While I realize estimates put that at about 5 million years from now, it kind of makes me not want to come to work in the morning.

Is that depression? Or just laziness?

I wish

I wish...

That Obama would invite me over to his house (the white one) for his birthday.

I would say things like “Fuckin A, Prop 8!” and he would say “Word”, and then we would clinkitty clink our glasses of chardonnay, and then Michelle would come to clear away the second empty bottle and just shake her head and smile and say “Oh you two...”

Sense of impending doom

Lay 1:46 PM

Whenever I feel desperate or dismal, I think its because there's a dementor passing by me and I just can't see.

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Me 2:26 PM

There probably is...

- Show quoted text -

Orchid woes

I wish my boss would stop yelling at me because the orchid I got her for her birthday in May is dying. I don’t know how much water, sunlight, music and warmth this photosynthesizing retard needs, I thought that was going to be her problem.

Next time I will take into account the behavior and fertility of my gift before purchasing it.

I was definitely striving to spend my own money on additional responsibilities at the office.

Congrats self.

My contacts

Turned on me today. After 12 years of faithful, dedicated use the right one got ahold of a contact sized shank and shanked me in the iris. Every time I blinked. So of course, I started blinking at warp speed. And rubbing my eyelid. Which is smart because if blinking hurts it seems obvious that pushing would feel even better. All I wanted to do was take the stupid plastic asshole out, but I am legally blind and if I were to do that, I would not be able to get home again.

So then I started walking around to various people’s cubes and telling them about my issue, because that seemed like the logical next step. Eventually I switched to real problem solving mode: begging my sister to drive to my office and bring me my glasses. After a vow to allow her to torment me re:blindness she relented.

Me 10:29 am
you are super duper amazing

Lay 10:30 am
ok

Me 10:30 am
for realz
thi_____________________________________________________________________________________________________s amazing

Lay 10:31 am
ok

Me 10:31 am
i am taking out the menacing contact now in anticipation of your arrival

Lay 10:31 am
ok but it won't be for a while

Me 10:32 am
but i can't take it

Lay 10:33 am
you owe me for the rest of your life you blind bitch


That’s real love.