Say What?

Every office has one. The crazy co-worker. We have one, and she is considered my "superior", in title only of course. Over the years she has gotten crazier, and never ceases to amaze myself and a few of my friends with the odd things she comments on, usually completely out of the blue.
For example, yesterday I was wearing a skirt, a rarity to be sure, but the thing came down to my ankles, nothing flashy about it. She stops the conversation she is having with another co-worker in the hallway to comment:

"Well well well, look at her. Whatcha doin' lookin all sexy today? Where ya goin looking that sexy???"

"Uh, to my cube?"

"Does your MAN know you're out lookin like that?"

"Uh, yeah, since I wore this to CHURCH yesterday, he does." The fact that the outfit was Church worthy seemed to throw a wrench in the works. However that didn't stop her today from commenting:

"Is your hair shorter? Did you get it cut?" (Normal enough question, yes, but just wait.)

"Yeah, about a month ago." For most people this is where the conversation would have ended, but she continues.......

"Hmmm, Maybe it's because you styled it differently?"

Nope."

"It's more flippy." (notice, not a question, a statement.)

"Nope."

"No, it's more puffy."(again, statement.)

"Nope."

"Well hmmm, it's something!"

"Not really, no."

"Well fine, I give up then. But it still looks shorter!"

Past conversations have included telling me I'm getting too thin, while she grabs the leg of my pants and tugs. Which also sometimes leads to telling me that if I keep it up I'll "lose my caboose." Telling me my "girls" look really good in my shirt. Or as I've come to think of it as my own Bridget Jones' moment: Your Tits look good in that Top. Insisting an item of clothing is new, and that I've never worn it before, when in fact I've been wearing it for the last 3 yrs. Her comments extend beyond myself. She feels free to give commentary on what people are having for lunch, " Just tomatoes? With pepper? I wouldn't get anywhere near that without some cheese and bread! Hmph."
"Look at you! You dress like a teenager!" To a 30 something co-worker who in fact does NOT dress like a teenager. Backhanded compliment anyone?
She's able to completely confuse our programmer by rattling on about how she would program this and that and our programmer should try this and that. The programmer's eyes completely glaze over the minute Crazy Co-worker approaches her. Being able to confuse the programmer, to me, speaks volumes to her Craziness.

Make mine a Cranberry and Purell

I just read an article stating that a 2 oz thing of hand sanitizer has the same amount of alcohol as several shots of vodka. Some grade schools are pulling the sanitizers because of this. Now really, what kid would have thought to down a hand sanitizer before the big spelling bee to calm his/her nerves? They will now though, won't they? Thank you hard hitting investigative news, thank you.

I'll be trolling the grocery sale ads for a buy one get one sale on Purell, so much cheaper than Vodka.

Wedding Planner Lessons

BF and I went back East to attend the wedding of one of his dear friends. The setting was fabulous, the food was divine and the booze were free flowing. That my dear readers, was the first mistake made by the couple who wanted nothing more than their friends and family to co-mingle and have a wonderful time.

Things I learned attending a wedding

1) Free booze +empty stomach=Trouble(for me especially).

2)Those that arrive with "Sex hair", have had sex before the wedding, have sex at the dinner table, and have sex at the top of the stairs for all to see.

3)Booze + pretty girls=inappropriate touching by various groomsmen.

4)Sibling rivalry = partner swapping.

5)Booze = the expression of latten lesbian feelings( not by me, but maybe for me).

6)Making friends with the foreign bartender is the way to happiness.

7)Being a "Cast-off", or the date of a bridal party member, is a lonely night made better by #6, but worse by #8.

8)Having your BF mention how great every other guy thought your boobs look is NOT a confidence booster.

Deep Thoughts...........

A day in the life of me and Instant Messaging........

Adult:(......) and uh, guys scratch their balls 24/7, be they droolers or not. just a heads up

Adult: or as BF says, "I'm ADJUSTING, ok!?!?!"

CBF: Men are really quite disgusting. Yet, I like sex. Go figure.

Adult: isn't it just the oddest? really, do you think if God is a man, he's a scratcher as well?

CBF: Sure, because he's probably got a huge set of stones.

Adult: that being the case, don't you think he'd of made us more accepting of said ball scratching?

CBF: This is the guy who gave us periods.

Adult: as punishment for the whole apple thing. maybe the ball scratching “ew” factor was an add on to the whole punishment thing

CBF: I totally want my money back.

Adult: I didn't offer anyone a stupid apple. hell, I’m allergic!

CBF: It sucks being a woman, but it's better than being a man any day-- because they never wash after they scratch, and who the heck wants hands that smell like sweaty balls?

Adult: ew, so totally

Adult: and they don't wipe after they pee

Adult: and i'm sorry, but the whole "shake it dry" thing, really just flings the pee to other places.

CBF: That's like blowing your nose without a Kleenex!

Adult: So totally! You know, they don't even give them the option of TP at the urinals! So you HAVE to fling.

CBF: Or tap-- tapping is better, but still. It leaves pee droplets in the underwear-- don't men understand that women don't mind being around the twig and berries, as long as pee is not involved or in the vicinity, or stained to the tighty whities???!!!!!

Adult: they do not. mothers can not intervene and teach their boys because that kind of peeing is a man thing. So they teach each other, hence passing on the bad habit.

CBF: No wonder grown men still have skid marks.

Adult: EW!

Adult: and wear holey undies

CBF: Yeah-- what is the deal with that, or should I not get you started?

Adult: even my brother who was properly raised by women, wears it that way. when my mom was living there, she'd steal it, take it home and throw it out.

CBF: That's whack.

Adult: totally.

Somebody........farted

Yes, I'll admit it, I was the Farter, BF was the Fartee. It isn't just that I farted in his presence. Oh, no, no cute Carrie Bradshaw moment here. We were, hmm, let's say, the BF and I were engaged in some foreplay, and he was doing his best to rev my engine manually(with his hands) when suddenly I farted. This is the exchange that followed:

"OMG! You just farted!"

"I'm so sorry! Oh God, I'm sorry!" I managed to choke out between laughs.

"You really know how to kill the moment, don't you?" he asked laughing.

More laughing from me.

"God, I felt that on my hand."

"Here, smell my hand, it stinks!"

"Oh stop! It does not!"

"I can't believe you. I have to go wash my hand. Here smell it!"

"You are such a dork!"

We both die laughing. Thank god BF isn't an uptight guy.





But I must pose this question, What is it with guys insisting that you smell something that smells nasty? The nastier the better?


And yet, he refuses to smell the spoiled milk.











P.S. I found this handy device while searching for a pic. Are we REALLY suppose to believe that stainless steel makes you not be smelly anymore? Couldn't you just rub the good sliver under your arm? I'm just sayin.

Home Again Home Again, Jiggity Jig

BF and I made it home from his parents, in one piece and are still dating. We agreed that our families are completely different from each other and that we need to just deal with that fact.

Difference 1) BF's family believes that the "rounds" to all family members need to be made immediately upon arrival. Never mind you've been in the car for 10hrs and are working on 2 hrs of dozing, not proper sleep, just dozing.

My Family hosts a large party where all are invited, and viewing of the far flung relative can be done in one easy pass with beer in hand. If you are unable to attend the viewing, so sad, too bad, your loss.

Difference 2) Present opening is a free for all. Wrapping paper begins to fly once the children hit the door and are able to decipher their names on the tag.



(Granted not kids, but this is the best I could find.)

My Family dictates that the children can look, but not touch, their presents until the appointed time where everyone sits down nicely and presents are passed out and opened one at a time. Perhaps a bit confining, but much easier on the senses of everyone involved.

Difference 3) No matter what physical state you are currently in(the stomach flu for yours truly), you WILL attend the family meal and help mind the children.

My Family(ok, not the entire extended family follows this one, but my immediate family does) adhere to the fact that germs are easily spread, and hence please keep yours AT HOME.

Difference 4) Family feuds are to be heard, and participated in by all. With the climaxing shout of, "It's Christmas for Christ's sake!" with various family members scattering to different parts of the house to sulk.

My Family, that I can ever recall, has NEVER had such an outburst during a family function. Perhaps because the women are well known silent fummers and only explode out of eye/ear shot and are masters of the passive-aggressive tactics of evil eyes, heavy sighs and Catholic Guilt.

The upside to the whole adventure was the trip into the City where I got to see the sun set over skyscrapers and the additional trip to an Outlet mall where my fabulous leather coat and matching handbag were purchased. Merry Christmas!!!!!!

Road Trip

BF and I leave this week to head East to spend the Holiday with his parents and family. I am decidedly concerned about interaction with his father, who is openly racist, even though he is somewhat of a "minority" himself. And his mother, who is openly hot to have her son(BF) marry, ANYONE, so she can have more Grandsons. Note grandSONS, not grandKIDS, hoping for anything as long as it's healthy; no, it's specifically Boys. BF was informed that the New Priest in their Church wants an audience with him; even though he isn't a parishioner because he lives in a different state, but because he's "heard about" BF. Flashbacks from earlier this year shook me from head to toe.

Small recap: Priest visiting from The Homeland requests audience with BF and his new Ladyfriend(me). Conversation is conducted in The Homeland language leaving Ladyfriend(me)completely out of the equation. Ladyfriend(me) finds out later that BF completely exposed the affairs of the bedroom, hence reserving 2 handbaskets to hell. Visiting Priest pushes to have BF announce his engagement to Ladyfriend(me) after four long months of dating. Ladyfriend(me), who is a modern independent woman, is further disgusted and horrified when Visiting Priest inquires via translator (BF's father), "Can you COOK???"
Flash to present where I forcefully inform BF that our personal life is a restricted topic and he is to inform New Priest that he needs to M.Y.O.B.
Which I'm sure won't happen and I'll once again be blamed for BF's decent into a morally corrupt life.
"Damn American girl!!!"


P.S. Props to [redacted] who inspired me to learn to add pics and just now, how to add a link!

Not Good

I've officially maxed out a credit card. Target. Yes, I can no longer be assured of fabulous deals on laundry detergent and shampoo because stepping foot through the electronically opened doors can no longer occur.

To top that off, our fabulously spineless boss has committed the faux pau of promising us our raises before the Christmas break and then reneged by telling us that really might not actually happen.

I'm going to have to prostitute myself in order to buy eggs.

Which in my case, means I'll starve.

Tell Me Again?

Someone please tell me again why, WHY, it is considered a right of passage as an adult to be a homeowner? I don't do anything differently in my home that I couldn't have done in a maintenance free apartment, other than paint the walls and tear up the carpet. But I'm speaking more on a daily basis type of thing. I'm certain walking about the home in my panties would have been just as easily accomplished in an apartment. And when the rains of the last few days started running down the walls in the basement, I would have simply called the apartment manager to get someone out to fix it, instead of wailing to my mother at 7am that " I don't want to do this anymore!!!" i.e. be an adult and "own" a home. I am poorer than I have ever been in my life. I've actually almost maxed out a credit card, another first, albeit it's a clothing store card, I tend to spend when I'm at my wits' end(good shirt slogan!), and I've gone over on my miles on my lease for this year, and I still have the rest of the month to go. I blame the mileage issue squarely on BF's shoulders since driving to and fro from his place adds an extra 8 miles each round trip. This may seem trite, except when you do the math. 8x6=48 extra miles a week. 48x4=192 extra miles a month. That of course doesn't add in the trips to the grocery store or out to dinner because I'm the last one in driveway, so we might as well take my car. Then there's the added expense of trips. Home for the holidays to mom and dad’s (I'm still trying to get out of that one) and the best friend's wedding that just HAD TO BE held at a tropical destination during high season. Trying finding reasonable airfare for THAT!
Stress and I do not compliment each other.
Adulthood Sucks.

Hot Cheese!

Today at work I was reheating a PMS related snack, Cheese Bread(a leftover), when a small drop of the melted gold fell onto the pan. I took my fork and speared the cheese glob, or at least thought I did, when moments from my watering lips the glob fell from the fork onto my slightly exposed breast(read low cut top). It took mere seconds to register that the glob was burning my breast. So while standing the in the highest traffic area of the office, the kitchen, I'm fishing around my in my top for a burning glob of cheese. Just around the corner I hear two male co-workers chatting. Myself feel-up becomes more frantic. Convinced that the burning glob is not lodged between the underwire and my skin I do the "shake it lose dance" and am immediately gladdened when said glob falls to the floor, now a cold lump of artery clogging fat. I am left with a small amount of dignity because I was not discovered feeling myself up, however that was slightly tarnished by the grease stains left on my blouse, right over my breast, by the heartless melted gold.





In other news, BF won out in the bedding battle by complaining that my comforter, which I love dearly, is too heavy, "it chokes" him (which I couldn't help but picture oversized comforter hands wrapping around his throat attempting to choke him in great cartoon style) and too small for the bed. It was the size issue that won me over, and I have added to my credit card debt even more by purchasing a new "quilt" that is almost the exact color of my walls and therefore finding the bed has become a new fun challenge.

International Drunk Dialing

My very good friend with whom I got exceptionally drunk with in "When aspirin isn't Enough" drunk dialed me from across the pond. Needless to say, she was drunk, as was her husband whom encouraged her to do the dialing. We haven't had a full on conversation since they were here a few months ago, so I was surprised when she casually asked, "So, when's the wedding?" I said I didn't know, but does this mean you approve??? In her Britishized American accent she informed me, "Oh Adult, he's Lovely." The conversation of course went on to dresses and what-not that I'm already semi-planning to do. Thankfully BF was in the other room engrossed in Dateline or something and was unable to hear that her future dieting plans are dependent on his future(hopefully) proposal.

I've been ordered to inform her promptly when the event occurs so that she may book the appropriate flights and arrival time so that we may once again discover why aspirin isn't enough, and most likely, why you don't do the bachelorette party the night before the wedding.

Pluck that Again

The other day I discovered a very long dark hair on my chinny-chin-chin. I know that this wayward hair often sprouts it's manly head, but I usually catch it long before it's long enough to braid. For some reason( read: too busy with BF to do proper grooming) I completely blanked on it this time around and was horrified to find it waving back at me in the mirror one evening. I promptly plucked it, as a girl is wont to do, all the time wondering why none of my female friends or BF pointed it out to me. Surely, at least BF was close enough to notice it. And nothing was said.

My faith in the human race took a blow that day, it truly did.

Corporate Conehead

I have a co-worker. She took over my old position. A few years after we hired her, we hired someone else to 'help' her because of the 'massive amount of work.' It is common knowledge that my replacement does nothing much. To the point that her 'helper' now assigns the tasks that need to be done. My replacement ducks works to the point that she walks the office giving everyone a copy of the daily newspaper. I wish I had that kind of free time(ok yes I Blog instead. whatever.) Today, when she came around I got snippy with her, to which she replied, "meee-oow". She's 50.

Now, I can't help but point out that her bringing the paper around cuts out the possibility of ME wasting time by going and GETTING the paper myself. Who is she to deny me my own time wasting time? Who, I ask, Does she THINK SHE IS???!!!!!!????!!!! Only the evil use their time wasting time to deny others their own time wasting time.

EVIL.

Hearts and Flowers

Last night I confessed to my Mom that BF loves me. Oddly enough, she seemed happy to hear the news. Every time we have a conversation involving BF she gets defensive on my behalf. I always feel that I must defend him and clear up the misunderstanding that he is an evil foreigner (foreigner yes, evil no). I think she may becoming around to my side. This is good, because everyone who is not related to me (read co-workers) keeps asking if I expect a ring this year. Yes, Yes I do expect a ring this year, or at least soon.

I think he is stockpiling down payment money, but I'm not letting him know that I know.

Actions Speak Louder

Brace yourself, I'm going to get political.
In the past week I've heard and read much about the Pope's "comment" that was made whilst addressing the German populous. The Islamic Leaders are outraged and upset about a piece of text written a few centuries ago. You have to ask, or at least I do, If this "letter" was so damning to Islam, why was it never publicly denounced by them before now? They are demanding an apology from the Pope, and even THAT won't be enough they claim.
Now the Islam followers are all up in arms, burning churches. I can't help but notice, as should you, that burning a church, of any domination, pretty much makes you a bad person. Which, um, is exactly what the letter from the 1400 said to begin with, is it not?
Say it with me people, Actions Speaker Louder than words. So go ahead and SAY you are a peace loving religion as you launch a fire bomb at the local church, we'll all understand. And I'm sure a Public Apology will certainly be enough to cover the damage of the burned churches by your peace loving followers.

Islamic militants vow war after pope comments

“We shall break the cross and spill the wine ... God will (help) Muslims to conquer Rome ... (May) God enable us to slit their throats, and make their money and descendants the bounty of the mujahideen,” said the statement, posted on Sunday on an Internet site often used by al-Qaida and other militant groups.

Yes, Peaceful, so very peaceful.

Bedding Battles

BF and I have vastly different ideas about what type of bedding should be placed on the bed. Growing up poor, ok, semi-poor, my parents turned the heat WAY down at night in the winter, so in order not to wake-up an icilce, the blankets were piled high. To this day I love the house cold and the bed heavy with the warmth and comfort of many blankets. Plus, being a Mortgage Owner, keeping the house cold cuts down on the heating bill. BF, for whatever reason, I have yet to get a straight answer out of him, is anti-top sheet in the winter. He sleeps directly under the comforter, with the heat still up. Needless to say I don't sleep very well at his place being too hot and the blankets are not heavy enough. As the nights have gotten colder I went out and purchased a light blanket to place on his King Sized Bed in order to cut down on his complaints of "I'm freezing!!" How you can be freezing when the house is at 72 degrees is beyond me, but anyway. The other day he informs me that this winter we will have to have separate blankets because he likes to cocoon himself in the bedding. Yes, I discovered that everytime I got up to go the bathroom, and came back to find there were no blankets left to cover me because he had made himself into a boyfriend burrito. When spending the night at my house, he kicks off the top sheet, but complains of being cold, so I give him an extra blanket. I'm really stuck on the whole top sheet thing. Where in the world do you learn to sleep without a top sheet? If you get even slightly sweaty during the night the top sheet is a barrier between you and the "Dry Clean Only" comforter. Without said barrier you are constantly shelling out for the "Dry Clean Only" comforter to be cleaned because it, well, stinks after having 2 people sleep under it. I've gotten used to not having everything tucked in, but the sheet thing, I don't wanna have to do extra loads of laundry just because he has top sheet issues. This may seem trivial, but think back to the last time you got all hacked off because someone replaced the TP "upside down". Hmmmmm????

BF fessed up that Momma has been harking on the whole wedding issue.

"If she was from The Homeland, you'd be married by now." She informed him last week.

So I asked, "Does she really like me, or does she just want you to get married for the sake of being married??"

"For the sake of being married." Came his too quick reply. Ok, so I'm not getting the Daughter-in-law of the year award.

"Does she understand that we're not from some small village where your parents know my parents and we grew-up together and have known each other forever? We haven't known each other forever you know, not even a year yet."

"No, they don't get it."

"They need to get it."

"I know. I told her if she asks again I won't call her anymore, and if and when it does happen, I'll call her and tell her."

I'm telling you, the woman has my "Good China" picked out and the children named already, I swear.

Waiting for White

BF and I have reached and passed the 9 month mark. With this knowledge my Crazy Best friend has begun planning "The Wedding." She's addicted to "Whose Wedding is it Anyway?", and has a million ideas about how to save money. I caught her fever and we proceeded to pick the menu, the church, and the reception hall, only after of course, making the guest list, my side only. She wanted me to ax seven people whom are distant friends because, "Adult! $20 a plate times 7 equals $140!!!!" Probably good she lives so far away. All the venues I'm sure will change once I see them in person versus seeing a one dimensional view over the web. And of course, once BF has his say about what he'd like to see. CBF and I have not yet broached color scheme and dresses, but I'm sure that's not far behind. She claims that the more stress and planning we get out of the way now, the more I can focus on my "bling ring" once I actually get it. Which, BTW, BF continues to tease me with the horror of CZ in as many carts as my pudgy finger can hold without a wheelbarrow. At least he's teasing right? Not breaking down the door to run the other way. He gets a kick out of making me squirm when it comes to The Ring. I've a very specific idea about what I want. And shallow though it may seem, at my 30something years I feel that something that one would have been able to get(afford/been happy with) in their early 20s greatly changes in their 30s, where jobs and homes have most likely already been established.

BLING BABY!

Ahem, sorry, I lost my composure for a moment. Is it really all about the meaning or "symbolism" of the ring? Yes, I'm sure it is. But "the meaning" can be interpreted in several different ways, don't you think? Just think of the last ugly gift you got. How did that make you feel? Like the person giving the gift either A)Doesn't know you all that well and hence the ugly, or B) They don't care and hence the ugly, or C) They didn't want to get you anything anyway and hence the ugly. I hope this proves my point. Maybe not, maybe I've just dug my own hole even deeper with the world at large. But I know what makes me happy:

BLING BABY!

Seriously, I love him, and I'm sure it'll all work out the way it's suppose to.

And here I was just last month complaining of the Momma Push down the aisle. Oh how times have changed.

When Aspirin isn't Enough

A long time friend visited this weekend. And we drank, and we chatted, and we drank, a lot.


Lesson learned: Drinking the entire contents of your "liquor cabinet" not only makes you horribly, horribly ill, but it also leaves you nothing to drink when you return to work on Monday, and realize that everyone is a complete dolt and hence you will need a drink when the day ends, but you have nothing, because you drank it all, and are too "house poor" to replenish your supply.

How Stupid ARE You?

People in this world are overtly stupid. People in this world lack basic, common sense, or, in the words of my mother, "You don't use the good sense God gave ya." And yes, it was directed at me, but I've since stood in the "Common Sense" line and had my card re-stamped. So it is with my stamp that I make the list of just how stupid people are.

1. During an unprecedented heat wave in my area recently, the kind where they tell you on the News to drink tons of water and then tell you the tally of those that are deceased because of said heat wave, You, oh stupid one, are out Jogging, in a Sweatshirt.
2. We are currently headed towards a "Gas Crisis", which means there are long lines at the Stations whom have gas 5cents cheaper then everyone else. You, oh stupid one, pull into line in such away that you trap those of us already at the pump, at the pump. Hence preventing you and 4 other people from getting gas and creating a massive tie-up.
3. I have ordered pizza for everyone for lunch, I've sent out the e-mail stating that I am ordering pizza for everyone for lunch, I have walked the office announcing that the pizza I ordered for everyone for lunch has now arrived. You, oh stupid one, come and tell me that the pizza has arrived.
4. I have created a list comprising over 2,000 names of "important" people. You, oh stupid one, having looked at the list of 2,000 plus names, demand to know why 2 random people are missing, and I should know this off the top of my head.
5. You are currently entrenched in a huge project with an ever looming deadline. You snap at people who ask for your help, when it's your job to help, saying you haven't the time to help. You constantly complain that you have too much to do and not enough time to do it. You can be spotted throughout the workday leaning in doorways, chatting gaily. You purposely work part-time, instead of full-time. You, oh stupid one, take an entire week off, mid-deadline.

And this is my other Cousin Darryl......

BF met the extended family this weekend; and Yes, we are still together. He's met them before, but it was a whirlwind of just a few hours. This was a day and a half. He apparently dislikes the same family members as I do, but for a few different reasons. He hasn't even met EVERYONE yet. Half the family was missing. It will be a joy and a true pleasure when he meets the Other Side of the family, the racist bigoted side, what with him being a minority and a foreigner? Ah yes, it shall be a love fest for all, I'm sure.
Interestingly enough, I think BF may have proposed twice this weekend. How, you ask, could I not possibly know if it was an actual proposal or not? One was uttered in the post coital cuddle,

"Will you be mine forever?"

I responded simply in the words of Prince, the midget man of music and sexuality, "Forever's a mighty long time."

But my mind was racing: Was that a proposal? Should I say Yes? Do I want to say Yes? Should I ask him if it was a proposal? Could this be any more like Will and Grace when Woody Harrison asked Grace to marry him during sex?

The second, in response to my quiet rant about not having kids and a husband,

"You could have both those things quite easily."

I called him out on this last one:

"Is that a proposal BF?"

"No, I'm just sayin."

Emhm, and I'm just not buyin it.