fresh mincemeat

Though You Treat Me Like A Dancing Bear

2011-07-31T13:11:00.003-05:00

Twelve years ago girl moves to new country. Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Girl is oblivious to his advances but happy to have a friend. Girl gets to know boy and goes to the movies with him (as friends). Boy is happy. Girl is happy, but in denial. Soon boy and girl start dating.

Skip to the end.

Girl and boy get married one year ago.

In New York (because we're trendy like that).

Two of the hardest things about marriage that no one warned me about? Creating and using a new signature and calling the boy husband. The most common question I get? (It's not what you think.) Everyone asks me "How's married life?" I feel their agreement when I tell them it's the same.

I may be one of the few people who went into marriage knowing nothing does (or should) change. Except for my name. But that was my choice.

Ah marriage, I avoided you for as long as I could, but in the end you are like the smoke monster. All show and no action. You're not as scary as I imagined you to be.

<3

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Because Jamaican Me Crazy

2011-07-18T03:22:00.007-05:00

Relax.

It sounds easy, doesn't it?

Just relax.

What if relaxing makes me anxious?

(I'm normal, I swear.)

Later this week I'll be traveling to Jamaica. An all inclusive. This worries me.

I wonder about the accommodations. The weather. How strong the sun will be. What I'll feel like doing. That I won't use my time wisely. Maybe I'll drink too much (or not enough). If I'll sleep well or have enough sunblock. Maybe I'll get addicted to being lazy. Will I find any metal chickens? I might have to drink Jamaica rum. Frick.

I know, tough life, right? We're going with a large group. Everyone is excited for different reasons. The main reason I'm going, and what I'm most excited about, is our friends' wedding. On the beach. If nothing else goes the way I imagine, I know this will be awesome. Why? Because I remember seeing the spark in the first few minutes they met. And while I never imagined they would be getting married 4 years later, I can't say that I haven't been waiting for this day.

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And I Will Try To Fix You

2011-07-15T12:36:00.002-05:00

Come December, I will have been a receptionist for seven years. A job I was told would be a "stepping stone" after graduation. A job I never expected to love. A job I never expected would change me. A job that, after all these years, still surprises me daily. Oh, and frustrates me daily. (These are both good things.)

I love meeting new people and making friends with my regular visitors. I love having something that keeps me busy all.day.long. I love when people realise the indirect power I have. I love being able to passive aggressively mess with jerks.

People can be absolutely nasty to people in a service related job. Whether it be a waiter, cashier, or receptionist. I'll never understand the need to be rude to another person. Especially someone who is trying to help you.

I'm not saying it's right to spit in someone's food. To put your bread on the bottom of the bag, or to send your calls directly to voicemail. I'm not even admitting these things happen on purpose.

But they might.

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I'll Be Better When I'm Older

2011-07-13T21:21:00.000-05:00

At what point can you call yourself an adult? Is it a matter of age? Career? Wisdom? The concept of being an adult never appealed to me. I realise you can't escape it, I just wonder where that feeling of maturity comes from.

I used to think working full-time would make me feel older. Instead it has made me cynical (er, more so). Then I imagined getting married would do the trick. Go figure, nothing changed then either. If anything, I now wonder if I suck at being a grown up.

I don't clean. I stay up too late and sleep too little. Sometimes I eat cookie dough (with raw eggs for the double whammy) for dinner. I am sarcastic in nature and use naughty language.

On the other hand, I am employed full-time. I exercise regularly. I always pay my taxes and vote. I eat my vegetables and take my vitamins.

Maybe being adult means finding a balance rather than playing the comparison game. I hope that dirty jokes and staying up late always appeal to me. Whether it's "adult" or not is irrelevant.

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So Beautiful To Me Your Mystery

2011-06-10T21:04:00.006-05:00

When I was 15 I moved from Canada to the United States. While my accent is a strange Wisconsin-Alberta blend, my thoughts are less of a melting pot. Things that I know from Canada, I don't expect to see in the U.S and vice versa. When something forces me to blend my memories, I get confused.

Like the Stanley Cup Final. The fact it's on my TV right now is awesome. I love hockey. However, Hockey=Canada. Fine, so I process this fact and adjust. I get to watch hockey on an American broadcasting channel. As the puck flies around I notice advertisements around the rink and I see companies like Tim Hortons, Rogers, and Canadian Tire. These are companies I know, but never see anymore. This does not compute.

I often tell people that the two countries are more similar than anyone will admit. Even though this is true, it's not until you look at the small details that you see what makes each countries special and unique. Are there similarities? Are there differences? Of course, just look closer.

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Put Me In A Room, Distraction Less

2011-06-08T11:50:00.000-05:00

Procrastination is contagious. Here’s a list of 25 things I should be doing (in no particular order):

Cleaning my house.
Going to bed at a normal time.
Changing my name on my credit cards (last thing!).
Updating this blog.
Writing back to a foreign exchange friend (from October).
Spending the last of my gift cards.
Writing my cousin back (from May).
Designing a poster for my work.
Dying my hair (priorities).
Cleaning my car (to sell it).
Planning a game night (it was never promised).
Visiting my family in Canada (that was promised).
Learning Norwegian (seriously).
Clothing shopping for a trip next month (see #6, hmmm).
Going strawberry picking (missed it last year).
Emptying my e-mail inbox (is 300 unread too many?).
Getting to work on time (see #2).
Watching the end of Prison Break (that show ended?).
Reading my book (from 6 months ago).
Baking cookies (per request).
Finishing this list.

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Get On The Plane, It's Fine. It's Fine.

2011-06-06T21:07:00.001-05:00

I love gore. Every good movie should have a touch of it. I know I should like movies with happy endings, but those are the movies I can't stomach (or believe). Horror movies have a familiar pace and tone I enjoy. I've often said that all good movies have at least one proper decapitation. It may be surprising that there's three on-screen events I can't stand to watch.

People getting injected with needles. (Why do they always need to show close-ups of it?)
Teeth falling out. (The thought of this seriously keeps me up at night. Especially after one of my teeth broke and needed to be repaired.)
Vomiting. (Enough said.)

Serial killers who take you while you sleep? Psychopaths who enjoy torturing you? Ghosts who want to seek revenge? Sounds like a good time. Just don't touch my teeth.

PS: The horror movie that stuck with me the longest? The one I refuse to watch again? Final Destination. The movie wasn't scary to watch, but the idea that death would hunt me down still scares me.

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I Have Shoes Older Than You

2010-04-14T04:12:00.000-05:00

I notoriously hate birthdays. Not because it makes me a year older, but because the day is usually a disappointment. You know that song, I’ll cry if I want to? That’s me. I put too much pressure on the day to be perfect and enviably something goes wrong.

This year I decided to shake things up. I took the day off work. Then I took successful elements from other birthdays. Throw in the mom and throw out the schedule. Golden. We started the day off at my favourite diner (25th), where I had an amazing mimosa with cinnamon swirl French toast. Then we drove down to Illinois for ice skating (10th) and shopping. I skipped cake and had a giant bag of bulk candy (6th). Then I had dinner at Applebee’s (16th).

Even though I was sleep deprived, ate candy until I felt sick, and failed at shopping, it was an amazing birthday. Why? No expectations. I went with the flow, did things I enjoyed, and rocked out as a grownup and a little kid. After 27 years, I learned that birthdays can be fun. Wacky.

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Toonies, Tuques, And Turks

2010-04-09T14:08:00.011-05:00

I’ve lived in the United States for over ten years. Even when I first moved here, it didn’t seem foreign. Not to my 15-year old brain. It did feel a bit like a mirror universe; things were slightly askew. Gone was the French, in with the Spanish. Obviously, the flags were different (and plentiful). The houses were shorter and older. It wasn’t acceptable to say pop, cutlery, or tuque. School started an hour earlier, ran in quarters, and had seven classes a day.

There are things I miss about Canada, but they’re not what you'd expect. I liked picking up change off the ground and having it be worth money. I adore Big Turks and proper hot tea. I miss seeing and reading bilingual anything. Chinooks and the Northern Lights are amazing. I miss hockey, curling, and the frozen ice pond we used as a skating rink.

Home is where you live. People wonder why I haven’t moved back. I loved living there but it’s not home. You can never move back to what you had. You can only move to someplace new.

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Why You Throw Chip?

2010-04-07T10:21:00.000-05:00

The charm is wearing off. My visitors are now creepier and less surprising. We have a two-fer!

There were a ton of cold calls today. A visitor wanted to leave information for the IT Manager. As he stapled his business card to a brochure, he asked me if I was “sure that I could manage doing this.” Buddy, you’re dropping off paper, I think I can manage. After I reassured him I was capable of taking care of this task, he asked to use the bathroom. After he finished, he thanked me for saving a life. I’m glad he appreciated peeing so much. This would constitute as a first impression fail.

The second was on the phone. He started chatting with me. First he wanted to know what I was doing (answering the phones), if I was working late (no), and if I received the cable he dropped off (uh). It was strange. When I admitted I knew nothing of the cable, it finally dawned on him that he had no idea who he was talking to. I suppose I could have told him that but then what would I complain about?

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Twenty-Four Hour Notice Appreciated

2010-04-05T11:43:00.002-05:00

Saturday night the (glorified) SO and I hosted our first game night. It was something we had wanted to do for a while. Months ago we made plans with two couples. We planned games to try (no monopoly!) and food to serve (nacho bar!). Last week I confirmed the time and date with both couples. We were ready.

I woke up early Saturday to get all my errands finished. I splurged on new wine glasses and fresh blueberries. Everything was coming together. The first couple called to say they would be late. No problem. The second couple (the one I planned the whole party for) called 15 minutes before they were supposed to arrive. I assumed they needed directions. Wrong. They were calling to cancel. She decided she wasn’t feeling well. They wanted to reschedule.

Are. You. Kidding. Me.

We still held our game night. We had a blast. Part of me is upset that they blew us off like that. You didn't know any earlier than that? If I were a doctor’s office, she would be charged for the appointment.

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Once You Grow, You Can't Stop

2010-04-01T04:10:00.001-05:00

If you’ve ever gone out to eat with me, you know that I’m not an experimental eater. I tell people that I’m not picky; I’m specific. I know what I like and don’t like to be surprised when it comes to food. My sister likes to tease me; I can go to any restaurant and find a chicken or steak dish (a good restaurant is one that has multiple chicken options).

I’m not sure when the change happened. In the last few months I’ve tried everything from ahi tuna to zucchini. What’s crazier is I’ve been cooking at home. I’ve never liked cooking; it pales in comparison to baking.

The funny thing is, once you start branching out in one place, you start branching out in other places. I’m doing something different for my birthday this year. This week we’re hosting our first game night. I have good intentions on trying yoga in the near future. I even decided it was time to give marriage a try. Heck, at this rate, I might even get on a roller coaster.

Two thousand and ten, you're one crazy year.

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Digital Idiots Or This Is Why I Hate

2010-03-29T14:39:00.000-05:00

I think my snark has gone up. I’m not sure if it’s from being in the work market, getting older, or a combination of the two, but I’m more argumentative. It’s possible I’m looking for the balance between being a pushover and a bully. Whatever the case, I think my callers are in trouble.

The last few weeks I’ve been cutting off the idiots mid-sentence, hanging up on the ramblers, and calling out the liars. My boss not only approves of this but it brings him glee. What’s good for the career is good for the soul, right?

Today I got in an argument with a caller over an employee. He asked me if he was back at work. I wanted to know why he thought he was gone. Certainly if you knew him well enough to call him at work, you'd know if he was actually HERE. I don’t think I was asking for much. I explained that I didn’t know all 300 employees personally but would page the shop if he was confident his friend was here.

I looked up the employee later. He hasn’t worked here since last April.

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Love My Gagh Or Go DIAF

2010-03-26T14:40:00.000-05:00

The reason I created a blog was because twitter didn’t offer enough characters to properly vent. Normally the two don’t crossover. This update is an exception.

I mentioned earlier that my coworker confused my breakfast with a bowl of mealworms. When I told him he was crazy, he countered that people around here eat strange things or maybe I was going fishing later. As ridiculous as his assumptions were, it got me thinking: Why do people feel the need to comment on other people’s food? Even if I were eating mealworms (and not delicious pear cobbler oatmeal), what would it matter? Obviously it’s something I want to be eating. No feedback needed.

Many of my coworkers like to comment. My favourites are the ones who tell me that my food disgusts them. I never know if I should apologise when they make those comments. If you go to someone’s house for dinner, you don’t tell say you hate the food. You’re polite. You deal. I expect the same courtesy when they’re not expected to eat my food.

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I Find Your Underwear Offensive

2010-03-22T14:25:00.004-05:00

I need feedback. A few weeks ago, I was at a bar. It used to be my favourite but with management changes, it's gone downhill. We were there for early St Patrick’s Day festivities. Within 20 minutes of being there I was upset. First I couldn’t get served, and then when I did my beer was stale. Then a homeless lady interrupted me in the washroom and shoved her way in (before letting me out). All of this I could ignore.

What put me over the edge was what I saw the bartender do. For St. Patrick’s Day, both of the bartenders were wearing kilts (adorable). The younger of the two was absentmindedly leaning over the bar. In slow motion, I watched her flip her kilt up, stick both hands into her underwear, and yank out a wedgie. Arg! It’s not socially acceptable to put your hands down your pants, why can she put them up her skirt in front of the whole bar? No one else seemed to care, but I’m still bothered. If nothing else, the fact she had underwear on with a kilt should be offensive. Right?

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I Judge Book Covers Too

2010-03-11T10:36:00.002-06:00

I often wonder how much people pay attention to me. My office area is directly across from the conference room. Whenever they have large meetings people sit near the door, giving them a clear shot into my office. Do they see me fix my hair? Adjust my shirt? Overhear me talking to visitors? It stresses me. Or, on days when I’m falling asleep at my desk, makes me paranoid.

Regardless, 15 of our company’s best and brightest are listening to a software presentation today. It may sound dull, but I’m enjoying it. Not because the information is useful, but because the visitors giving the presentation are fascinating. From their clothing to their mannerisms, they're straight out of a mafia movie. In a crazy-Ally-McBeal-like imagination scene, I envision them breaking out machine guns if we turn them down, or maybe thugs will come in to twist our arm.

It’s terrible to judge someone without knowing them, but that’s what first impressions are about. I wonder if they realise how they appear?

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The Carnie And The Convict

2010-03-04T10:32:00.003-06:00

A new week brings new visitors. We're still getting a steady stream of job applicants. My favourite so far was from a former carnie. For six years he traveled with a carnival. I liked his attitude; sadly he had no qualifications to work here. Many of the walk-ins have no idea what our company does; nor do they care. They apply to qualify for their unemployment checks. I get why they require job searches, but blinding applying at random companies isn't productive. Regardless, I don’t mind signing the forms providing you seem to care.

One gentleman doesn't even try. He throws his unemployment form down and demands I sign it. Last week he brought in two! Out of fear I signed, but deep down it bothers me. It's blatant abuse of a system designed to help people.

On a brighter note, a different gentleman applied yesterday. He made sure to tell me that the president knew of his qualifications and that he was recently released from prison. With honesty like that, how can you not love him?

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Take A Look And Really Weigh That

2010-03-01T11:55:00.001-06:00

I found a new way to geek out! People assume that geeks speak the same language. They group us as a generic subclass to be envied or ignored. I like many geeky things; conventions, super hero movies, Star Trek, social networking. Other things, like math, programming, science, or comic books, I have no interest in. To make matters worse, my SO is an IT Manager. They try to bypass him and get me to solve their technical problems. Sure, I have a better grasp of computers than they do, but I can’t fix their computer because my SO can.

Regardless, I love to bake. I got a digital scale and made the move to baking by weight instead of by volume. There is a learning curve, but I’m hooked. My biggest problem is many recipes don’t offer weight measurements. My stupidest realisation is that a cup of flour weights less than a cup of sugar. It makes sense, but it never occurred to me. I love not having to use different measuring cups and the precision I get. It pleases my inner cynic and my OCD.

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Want Me Outta My Head

2010-02-19T13:06:00.004-06:00

I’ve been spending a lot of time in my head lately. Earlier this week I was thinking of things I liked starting with the same letter. This led me to find three things I liked for each letter of the alphabet.

Afternoons, Airports, Aprons
Baking, Bed, Breakfast
Chauffeurs, Chicken, Conventions
Disneyworld, Ducks, Dull Days
Easter, Eating Out, Estates Sales
Farscape, Foreigners, Frosting
Game Shows, Google, Grumpy Men
Hockey, Horror Movies, Hot Tea
Indian Food, International Influences, (Teh) Intraweb
Japanese Culture, Journals, Jury Duty
Kilties, Klingons, Knights
Laziness, Lemons, Lotion
Microbrews, Midnight, Multi-Tasking
Naps, Necklaces, Nut-Free
Oatmeal, Overcast, Oxen
Pajamas, Pigeons, Pumpkins
Questions, Quinoa, Quips
Rabbits, Receptionists, Road Trips
Sci-Fi, Scrabble, Showers
Tomorrow, Topperstix, Tourists
Understatements, Umbrellas, Uniforms
Vacations, Volunteering, Voting
X-Rated, Xenophoes, Xmas
Yetis, Yo Gabba Gabba, Yoopers
Zombies, Zoos, Zucchini

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For The Love of Scrabble

2010-02-01T10:48:00.004-06:00

I am a horrible speller. Back in the day of weekly spelling tests and book reports, mine looked like a battlefield. Phonetics never ring true with me and my aptitude for memorization is lousy. Like many things, spelling is a knack. Someone who is a natural can spell words they have never seen before. I struggle with everyday words like restaurant and embarrass.

It would seem ironic that I enjoy writing (and got a degree that focused on it). I am also addicted to Scrabble. I could play it for hours and if I don’t play it in a few days I miss it. I have started playing it over breakfast in diners. Sometimes it's a travel version; yesterday it was the full version at McDonald’s. I have played it so much in the last 6 months; I might even credit it to helping my English vocabulary. (When you are desperately trying to get rid of a J, Q, or Z you tend to learn new words.) Luckily my mom and I play a friendly game otherwise I might have started drinking something stronger than tea to play.

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This One's For You Mike Or A Man, A Plan

2010-01-29T13:41:00.001-06:00

This week marked the anniversary of a friend’s death. His story was a sad one and sufficient to say it's still weighs heavily. The SO and I celebrated his life the best way we knew how: By mocking him. Cleverly. Respectfully. It was genius (despite the fact it came out of a night of drinking).

Mike was a strange, cranky, and stubborn guy. He worked hard and would call your bullshit out with colourful language. He was funny and fiercely loyal. He died three years ago from complications of untreated diabetes. It was a senseless, slow, and painful death. He slipped into a coma a day before his 50th birthday and never woke up.

For reasons unknown, he wore the same thing everyday; long sleeve white shirt and navy Dockers. He literally owned 50 of each. It was quirky. We decided to emulate him to remember him. Dressed in Mike’s finest, we came to work. Since he worked at our company for 25 years, many people got it. A few are thinking of doing the same thing next year. This pleases me.

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PSA: Get diagnosed. Learn more about the disease. Support the cause. At: http://www.diabetes.org

Vacationing At My Desk

2010-01-27T12:51:00.002-06:00

A few years ago I was offered a promotion at work. Well, that’s how they phrased it. I would have been moved off reception and into a cubicle to do various and sundry clerical tasks. What they failed to realise is I love being a receptionist and to move me would have been a punishment. It’s a sweet gig; I have the largest desk in the office, it’s next to the president's, and everyone knows my name. I like to tell people I get paid to talk.

Except for this week. Saturday I went to a friend’s birthday party at a bar. The combination of a sore throat, bar talk, and smoky air, caused me to lose my voice. Completely. You don’t realise how dependent you are on it. I feel like Ariel without the sexy flipper.

Since I’m not on my deathbed, I refuse to take unpaid leave. So I sit here, helplessly watching the phone ring. As much as I miss my callers, this has been relaxing. The office has been fantastic at picking up the slack, but they’re frustrated (I may or may not feel bad about that).

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Don't Shoot The Follower

2010-01-18T14:53:00.001-06:00

The line between bullies and pushovers is tiny. If there was any doubt, I lean heavily towards the latter. I’ve never liked to be a leader and before I was receptionist, I was quieter and shyer than I am now. Part of me wishes I could work the system better. Unfortunately, the battle is decided by who is the most argumentative.

Imagine you’re at a crowded restaurant. Two people have the same problem; they need a table. The pushover would accept the server's apology and wait patiently. The bully, on the other hand, would yell and argue. You know how this ends, right? The bully would get a table, free meal, and an apology because they didn’t want to put up with him. The pushover would eventually get one (maybe with nicer service).

It doesn’t seem right that people get rewarded for being rude. At Disney, the more you complain, the more they pacify you. Part of me is envious of them for speaking up and getting what they want. The other part would rather sleep with a clear conscience.

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Common Sense Is So Passé

2010-01-14T13:48:00.001-06:00

People never cease to amaze me. I know this is an on-going theme. I should expect people to be crazy and stupid but I don’t. I live in a bubble and people shock me.

With it being the season of resolutions, a common one is to lose weight. It’s a constant topic at my office. Recently, Sparkpeople released a book, outlining their diet plan. My friend went to skim the book at B&N. She seemed angry that there were no gimmicks attached to their (quote, unquote) weight loss secrets. “They want me to eat healthy and set personal goals. That’s not original. I'm disappointed. Have you seen it?” Feeling the need to placate her I apologized and told her I hadn't. I didn’t have the heart to tell her what I was thinking ("well, duh"). Even if there were a gimmick that, say, cured male pattern balding, it wouldn’t work for everyone. Everyone is different.

The reason people make self-help books? It’s to make money. The reason people buy them? It’s to have something to blame when they don’t work.

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Movie Violence... In Real Life?

2010-01-07T16:12:00.000-06:00

A coworker missed work today. She sits in the back office so we didn’t think much of it. As it turns out, her entire house was ransacked and vandalized. It happened yesterday while she was working. Not only is this upsetting, but it blows my mind. We don’t have a lot of detail, but it sounds like a plot from a movie. I imagine this large, organized gang of thugs ripping through her house. Unless this is more commonplace then I realise. Sure, your car stereo gets swiped or a window gets broken, but for everything in your house to be stolen?

To make the story sadder, she bought the house less than six months ago and spent hours putting in new flooring, windows, etc. I’m hoping the chatter I’ve heard is worse than what actually happened, but the best-case scenario is still a home burglary.

I’m not sure how I would react. A lot of things don’t bother me, but I love my stuff. I’m not ashamed to admit I’m materialistic. Plus I sleep in my house. People can mess with me when I’m asleep.

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Samuel Peeples' Evolution

2010-01-01T12:56:00.003-06:00

I’m not a fan of New Year’s resolutions. It annoys me that they are all the rage in January. Accomplishments shouldn’t depend on a calendar. I've never made one but I would consider it if they were as great as everyone thinks. My exercise facility sees a frenzy of new faces (similar to churches at Christmas or Easter time). Until February they’ll be in my way. Obviously, as far as a motivational catalyst, they aren’t effective.

I prefer to look at the year as a whole. I may try a few new things or travel somewhere new. You know, explore strange new worlds; seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go...What? I have to keep it simple; otherwise a new year will only mean more work and I’m lazy.

The closest thing I have to a resolution this month is to relax. My stress level was so high in December; it’s hard to come down cold turkey. I think it fueled me through the whole month and now I can’t function without it. People, a receptionist doped up on stress? It’s not pretty.

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Adrian's Revenge

2009-12-01T16:30:00.002-06:00

For years I was able to pride myself on a Perfect Driving Record^TM. I had never been pulled over or given a warning. Not even a parking ticket was on my record. Last October, after 12 years, I fixed that. Speeding through a speed trap on the way to work is never recommended. Twenty minutes later, with my first ticket in hand, I was on my way.

There’s no interesting story to go with the ticket. The cop didn’t lecture me and I didn’t argue. It was cut and dry. What was interesting was people's reaction. Most of them were surprise I didn’t cry or use my “womanly assets” to get out of the ticket. I’m not an advocate of same sex rights, but I found this offensive. I sucked it up and took the ticket like a man. The speed trap was lousy, but the ticket was deserved.

Others told me to plead no contest to reduce my points. Pleading no contest is worse than weaseling out of a ticket. If I had gone to court, I would have pleaded guilty. For the record? I paid my ticket in full the next day.

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Pigeon Power

2009-11-01T15:56:00.000-06:00

I might be crazy, but how can you beat a story about money, pigeons, and a magical bush?

I need to admit that I Love Pigeons. I love them like Bert loved them. They excite me and I always take pictures of them. Even my brother takes pictures for me. Last year in California we went to see La Jolla Seal Beach. We parked in the wrong area and walked through the parking lot (even this is amazing in California). Can you tell where this is going?

I find a pigeon and follow it (the seals could wait!). I couldn’t convince the pigeon that it wanted a picture taken. It finally stops under a large bush. I look up, disappointed that I lost my photo opportunity, and see money! Granted it was $1 but still. On closer inspection it seemed purposeful that it was there. Unfolding it, I noticed an inscription “May the Goddess bring you health, wealth, and happiness in abundance”. Hippie blessed money! Hidden in a magical money bush! Discovered by following a sassy California pigeon! It made my day.

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Kids Are Trading Cards, Right?

2009-10-19T14:43:00.004-05:00

For most people, the decision to move is a major one. It requires thought, planning, and money. It means leaving everything behind and starting a new life. There are good reasons to move. It could be for a new job, health concerns, or because a fortune cookie dared you. People move all the time. But don't fool yourself. While it doesn’t change who you are, it does change you.

Someone who shall remain nameless, let’s call him “Dad”, had the bright idea to move this weekend. What was his reasoning? Three out of four of his kids don’t live here. He didn’t see the sense of staying in Racine for one kid. No other considerations crossed his mind. Apparently you can snap your fingers and be in another city. (If only it were that simple.) It’s possible I’m jealous; his whole life would move with him. How's that possible? Hint: it’s his television.

I should be happy he considered me at all. Traditionally he hasn’t. Sorry Dad, I’m too horrified that you pitted your kids against each other.

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it's a small world

2009-10-12T16:11:00.001-05:00

This week we have a foreign exchange student job shadowing at our company. Since she is studying for Administrative Assistant, she has been working with us in the front office. Whenever you’re showing someone your job, you realise how dreadfully boring everything is. Yes, it keeps me occupied, but no one cares to hear about it. When people ask about your day, they don’t care about the tasks you completed, they’re interested in the drama or human interactions you had. “How was your day at the office honey?” “Great! I collated paper!”

She plays along nicely though and I shouldn’t be embarrassed. She works in her office herself and can relate to boring work. The biggest different she pointed out was the amount of meetings. She said her company only had meeting when they "had something new to talk about". Clever!

We bounced her around the company and hopefully the day wasn't too long for her. If nothing else, I imagine the language barrier and culture differences kept her interested.

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Your Dog Freaks Me Out

2009-10-05T12:13:00.003-05:00

I don’t believe in luck. Sure people or happenstances can seem lucky, but so what? It comes down to odds. It's why I don’t like gambling; they're against you. On Monday, they were working overtime.

While flying back from Florida, we were in a giant line to get through security. Thousands of people were trying to get through to hundreds of airport terminals. The only thing we had in common? The fact we were trying to leave Florida that morning. We could be traveling to anywhere in the world. The couple behind us was returning home to Japan. Directly in front of us, a girl had a carry-on with a puppy inside. This fascinated me. You can take live pets on a plane? Does it go through the metal detector? Where does it go on the plane? I took pictures.

We board our flight and I’m still talking about the crazy dog. At this time, it’s pointed out to me: She’s sitting in the seat directly behind me. How is that even possible? If beating the odds equals being lucky, I want a lottery ticket.

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The Eighty Dollar Nap

2009-09-21T11:50:00.001-05:00

Last weekend was Racine’s Brewfest. It’s a fundraiser for the Kilties and my favourite event of the year. If you’ve never gone, you walk around, sample amazing microbeers, and see the Kilties perform. We go every year and drool over the VIP perks (early admission, t-shirts, beer stein, etc). This year we decided to pay extra to be VIP. (It seemed like a good idea when we bought the tickets in May.)

The first hour of Brewfest was perfect. The VIP crowd was manageable, lines were nonexistent, and the beer tasted amazing. After they opened the gates for general admission I decided I needed to slow down. I had another four hours to drink tasty beers. Long story short, after mixing as many samples as I did, slowing down didn’t help. I was done drinking after the first two hours. Not waiting to miss the Kilties perform, I decided to sit and wait for them. As brilliant as this was, it backfired. I slept through the entire performance. In a crowd of 1500 drunks, I took a nap. How cool am I?

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Horror Drama

2009-09-09T16:30:00.004-05:00

I have contempt for the Final Destination movies. I saw the first one and it still strikes fear into me. I know it’s a horror movie and it’s supposed to have that effect. Unlike other horror flicks, Final Destination has two major differences for me: 1) Horror movies don’t normally scare me. I love gore and believe every film needs a proper decapitation. 2) The fear should dissipate after the movie ends. Final Destination created new idiosyncrasies for me. On every flight, I check my tray table to make sure the latch isn’t broken. One day, it will break and it will be extremely difficult to stay on the plane.

Good movies should shock you and make you question what you know. I admit that I have a strange sense of humour and a twisted definition of morality. My tastes in movies reflect that. It’s possible Final Destination struck too close to my pre-existing fear of flying. I hear the other two movies don't involve a fatal plane crash. I could watch them, but I doubt it’s worth my time.

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I Need To Know

2009-09-01T15:08:00.003-05:00

Our company is located in a... decent area. I don’t recommend walking down the street but it’s fine to drive down. With an emphasis on manufacturing, rather than retail or residential, there’s little reason for foot traffic. Yet this doesn’t seem to stop people. They appear out of nowhere with strange requests. I’ve had people want water, a phone book, or directions on how to get across the street (the building is literally as large as a city block, yet somehow invisible).

I try to accommodate most of the requests. I’ve looked up phone numbers or let some visitors take my entire candy jar. I figure if they’re desperate enough to ask, I don’t mind helping them out. Today a lady pushing a baby stroller came in. I guess she was out for a lovely stroll in the (neighbour)hood. I was more fascinated that she was around 7 months pregnant and desperate for a bathroom. I obliged (what other bathroom was she going to find?) but I’m left wondering; where the heck was she going, on a scenic tour?

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The Little Blue Can

2009-08-31T09:12:00.003-05:00

There comes a point when being tired isn’t solved by caffeine. On our marathon road trip we drove 28 hours straight. My driving was minimal but there’s something about being in a car for that long. After hour 20, I decided to drink a Red Bull. (I adore that little blue can. So much so that it’s a special treat.) It didn't help. I was still seeing the back of my eyelids more than I care to admit.

Here’s where I get a bright idea. I stopped at the nearest gas station and picked up a 5-Hour Energy Shot. It guaranteed no crash and sounded like a good idea. Obviously there were two flaws with this idea. The first was I had never had one before and didn’t know how I would react. The second was I had forgotten about the Red Bull. All I knew was the bottle was tiny and I was tired. What I didn’t know is instead of being awake and productive, I would be jittery and suffering chest pain. The next few hours were interesting if nothing else. I’m happy I only spent $3 to simulate a heart attack.

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Sandman, I'm So Alone

2009-08-26T14:37:00.002-05:00

This last month has been exhausting. I find myself starring at my monitor and seeing nothing. Last night I tried to repay my debt to the Sandman, but he’s not an easy man to please. I treated myself to a two-hour nap and it turned into a nap of the dead. I call it that because you wake up with no cognitive skills. I only knew that I had been asleep. The time, day, location, and month were a blurry question mark. While the nap was amazing, it terrifies me to wake up so disorientated. (On the positive side I was 100 percent sober and in my own bed. I wonder how I would cope waking up in a stranger’s bed. It was hard enough to reassure myself that it was Tuesday night.)

With my nap plus seven additional hours of sleep, I started today with my fingers crossed. Too often I’ve been waking up tired, drifting off all morning, and napping during lunch. It gets old. It turns out my debt was not repaid. I spent the morning sipping coffee and pacing. Plan B is to learn how to work while asleep.

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Volunteering; The Emo Edition

2009-08-20T11:16:00.006-05:00

Last night I spent five hours standing in the rain serving beer. Voluntarily. It was miserable. I should have been at home sleeping or watching season 7 of Voyager. Instead I was standing in the rain with numb fingers and a drenched hoody. Halfway through the concert (that played late despite the weather), I was questioning why I was there.

I enjoy volunteering and do it often. Even if I receive no perks, I’m happy to do it as long as I’m enjoying myself. When I started working fulltime I made it a priority to continue volunteering. I work longer days or get up early to fit it in. Last night was the first time I regretted volunteering.

This particular gig is annual. I merged into it through my college internship years ago. In the beginning, I knew most of the people and we worked hard. Then they fired our coordinator and many of the other volunteers left. The working volunteers I knew were replaced with drunken strangers. It’s not the same and the rain felt like a twisting knife.

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Travelling Oldies Style

2009-08-17T13:39:00.005-05:00

Since I started working fulltime, the seasons aren’t as crucial. When you were in school, you had large breaks to enjoy. My years now have three seasons: Vacation, Waiting for Vacation, and Returning from Vacation. Obviously, vacation season is the best (but most brief). The longest (both figuratively and literally) is the waiting season. The returning season is painful.

I mention this because in the last month, I have gone through all three seasons twice. I hate readjusting. Eight (work) days after returning from our California trip, we packed up and headed out on our wedding/road trip extravaganza. In seven days, we went to two weddings, two rehearsal dinners, four drinking excursions, three states, and two provinces. Did I mention we drove? We covered 3,000+ miles in 61 hours and spent over $400 in gas.

It was different. Highlights include: the radioactive scan at the boarder, driving through Prince Albert and Drinkwater SK, the cheese humping mouse, and driving in kilometres.

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Mr. Excitement

2009-08-06T11:18:00.007-05:00

I found my soul mate. His name is Bert and he is a 40-year old puppet. Please don’t try to talk me out of it; I’ve already researched him on Wikipedia.

I should explain. The other day I was trying to remember what Bert collected. I remembered his proclivity towards pigeons, but not much else. It turns out he collects both bottle caps and paperclips. Since I went to all the work of loading up Wikipedia, I was curious what other information was known about him. Outside of being an enthusiast, he’s also an activist (for the National Association of W Lovers), and a scholar (he loves to read). Combine that with his patience he has for Ernie and I think he’s looking solid.

What sold me on Bert was a quote from his puppeteer Frank Oz: “I was never really happy with Bert's character until about a year in, when I realized...that he was a very boring character, and I'd use that weakness as a strength for him." Who says boring can't be good? If no one else, I know my cousin will support me.

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Faulty Wiring

2009-08-03T16:20:00.003-05:00

I often get into arguments about sleep. Morning and night people have no common ground. We'll never understand each other. I've been accused of being lazy and undisciplined (I’d like to see a morning person stay awake as late as I do). When I started working first shift, my mom thought I'd never last. Be awake and functional before noon? It was unheard of. I was told that the mornings would get easier (not true).

I know why I’m tired during the day (it’s because I don’t sleep at night), but I cherish the nighttime. It's the highlight of my day. I generally can make it to work close to my start time. It then takes a few hours before I’m fully awake. When I get home, I’m wide-awake.

Thursday night for one reason or another was a long one. I had a nap around dinnertime and was awake again until 3 a.m. On Friday morning I was woken up at 10 a.m. (AKA two hours after my shift at work starts). Oh hell. My alarms across the room were both set properly.

I'm glad things are easier now.

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Why So Scary?

2009-07-30T16:22:00.004-05:00

It’s a new week with a new interesting visitor. Unlike the man in yellow, this guy was bizarre. He looked and smelled like he had just left a bar fight. His eye twitched (or maybe he was winking) and he had visible bruises. He talked about how he was from Arizona and needed a job. After I explained to him that we would be slow through the summer, he asked to leave his resume. (This is normal.) I didn’t think he had one on his person, but he proved me wrong. He dug through scraps of paper in his wallet and produced a ripped, folded note. It was covered in a grayish powder. I decided to photocopy it for him.

He then proceeded to ask if he could get food from our cafeteria (we have no food and I’m not letting you wander around in our shop). He settled for water from the cooler. Fine. After reading his resume? All the jobs listed are from 2007 (or earlier) and located in Racine. He also listed taking “General Courses” at my high school. His address? It doesn’t exist. Colour me confused.

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It's All About The Beaver

2009-07-29T17:31:00.000-05:00

Today was my first day back at work. I looked forward to coming back for the simple fact that I get to relax. Initially I take a vacation because I need a break from work. Before it’s over, it occurs to me that work is less strenuous. I have a schedule and a routine that serve me well. While on vacation, my SO and I have a sick need to make the most of it. We get up early, keep long hours, and cram as much into the day as possible. It’s amazing fun and I never regret it but it leaves me in pain. I’m left wondering if I need a nap or a massage.

Last week we tore up California. We went to Comic-Con, Craig Ferguson, Conan O’Brien, and Disneyland. A twitter follower said this would make his head explode. I’m apt to agree with his statement. The highlight of my trip was seeing Jim Beaver in a Supernatural panel. Having just watched his tragic end in Deadwood, it was enjoyable to see him up on stage. Most actors I enjoy as a specific character. Jim Beaver? I enjoy him in all of his roles.

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What's In Your Cup?

2009-07-20T11:31:00.002-05:00

In our office, we have a three-pot coffee maker. Anyone who reads my twitter knows I have a love-hate relationship with coffee. I occasionally drink it at work out of desperation. The coffee is swill, but I cope because I don’t want to be a coffee drinker. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot to like about coffee. Besides the caffeine boost, it’s fresh, hot, and free (unlike many other beverages).

After working here for five years, I recently learned how to make the coffee. I rarely drink it but I enjoy making it. One thing bothers me. We normally have two pots of regular brewed. People are constantly drinking from the freshest pot, leaving the other pot half full. Maybe I’m irrationally annoyed, but wouldn’t the logical thing be to drink from the older pot? Finish it up before starting a new one? We would all like the freshest coffee but some of us are considerate enough to resist. Maybe I’ll start flipping the pots so they think they have the freshest one. Yeah, that’d make me happy.

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The Day The Car (Almost) Died

2009-07-15T14:24:00.004-05:00

I dislike pumping gas. It’s included in my disdain for cars. See also: driving, repairing, and paying for. Unfortunately, Racine has lousy public transportation. Contrary to popular belief, I can and do drive. I just don’t fill the car up with gas. I get other people to do it (don’t judge). I have a phobia about it and I choose to avoid it when possible.

Having said that, we have an older car I like to drive. The gas gauge doesn’t work spectacularly. I last drove it at 2 a.m. and didn’t want to get gas then. I vowed I would the next time. Before anyone gets uppity, I realise it’s important to the car's maintenance.

Problem: The car barely started. Insert expletives here. Once it did, gas was direly needed. I went to the station on Spring St. Let it be known, I was glad to be going downhill. The car died at the stoplights before the gas station and I had to coast to the gas pump (while sweet talking the car). This was the first time I was happy to be there. I think the car agreed.

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The One Where I Freak Out

2009-07-13T15:02:00.000-05:00

I’ll admit. I’m a decent traveler. I know how to behave on a plane. The problem is all the time before the trip. I don’t like surprises and rather have things planned out. Unfortunately I’m a lousy planner. Combine these two facts and you’re left with stress. Our trip we’ve been planning for 9 months is only 9 days away. This suddenly occurred to me today.

I am now in research, desperate planning mode. Don’t get me wrong; I’m excited beyond words for this trip. However, information assimilation is exhausting!

We have a lot planned, but nothing I have previous experience with. Trip highlights included going to Comic-Con (con-virgin here!) and live tapings of Craig Ferguson (a fellow foreigner/naturalized citizen!) and Conan O’Brien (ZOMG! Tonight Show). Somewhere in between these adventures will/may be Disneyland, Seaworld, or Universal Studios Tour. If I don’t come back dead, broken, or sun burnt, this trip will definitely be a success. I just need to chill out until I get there.

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Work Smart, Work S-Mart

2009-07-06T15:21:00.005-05:00

This week I’m covering for Order Processing. I was trained all last week on who to notify if a firm release was pushed up and how to check vendor’s websites. It’s easy work. I may obsess a bit about screwing up an order, but that’s normal. My biggest problem is everyone else. The lady who trained me told everyone she would be off this week, that I would be filling in for her, and to not to worry about a thing. Two department heads called me this morning confused. “So, uh, what exactly are you doing? We weren’t trained on this.”

I’m covering the mass majority of the order processing. Other than the odd balls, they don't have to do anything. Yet they’re confused. How do you reassure them without beating them over the heads? I wonder if a third e-mail would help them.

Regardless, I’m happy to report that the hardest day is over. Monday has a metric ton of new production releases to go through and verify. The next four days combined might be equal to today’s stack, but it’s unlikely.

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Can You Feel The Love Tonight

2009-07-02T08:30:00.000-05:00

A little known fact about me: I’ve always wanted to be a bartender. Even before I drank or went to a bar, I wanted to be one. Who could resist the glamour? You know, the drunken cliental, smoky air, and dim lights. Normal people have more ambitious career paths. I choose the one that makes me happiest. Bartenders are masters behind the bar. They’re multitasking geniuses of retail, mixology, and social interactions.

Tuesday night I had the opportunity to stand behind a bar. Everything looked and felt so different. I’m not sure why I jumped on the opportunity. It could have been the two beers (courage!), the four sodas I drank (energy!), or the genuine desire to help. Regardless, I now jones for more of it. I found out you learn the tricks as you go. I also found out the biggest different between answering the phone and taking a drink order: If you can’t understand the person, there’s no guessing. They will know if the drink is wrong and the fix isn’t as easy as retransferring a call.

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Red And White All Over?

2009-07-01T11:56:00.002-05:00

Oh Canada Day, you’re at the same time every year, aren’t you? I look forward to it, even if I have no way to recognise it. Patriotism is a strange thing. It’s even stranger when you have no one to celebrate with. (Maybe I feed off others like a pride vampire?) How do you celebrate a country? There are obviously no parades or fireworks here in America. I didn’t even wear Red and White like my mom. At best, I'll wish everyone a Happy Canada Day. It brings up questions but I generally enjoy fielding them. The biggest thing to remember is that it’s not a day of independence; think of it more like a birthday.

It also opens me up to the standard Canadian jokes. I think those wore thin in 2002. I was involved in a discussion today about pizza. I didn’t contribute because it was boring. Someone decided this must be because we didn’t have pizza in Canada. Surely I was confused. I didn't bother coming up with a witty response (if I had, imagine something witty about Canadian pizza toppings).

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Cars Suck; Home Edition

2009-06-30T11:05:00.004-05:00

It was bound to happen. I decided to drive the nice car yesterday. By nice I mean, nicer then our other car. Three blocks from my mom’s house the power steering cuts out. Or, as I look it, a reminder of how little upper arm strength I have. I managed to make it to my mom’s house, but that's it. All things considered, I was lucky. I didn’t get hurt, I could safety pull over, and I have free towing. Before you mention it, driving a car after the power steering goes out is bad.

For nine years, I’ve had AAA. I’ve used them four times. Once I picked up a giant bolt in my tire and needed it repaired. Another time I locked the keys in the car while it was running (this should not be possible!). The other two times? I needed a tow because my power steering cut out. What are the odds of that? I might be wrong, but I get the impression this isn’t common. It’s all timing and coincidence. I wish I knew what caused it, but I have a feeling both times it was a fluke. We all know I excel at those.

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Cane Shaking Strange

2009-06-25T16:43:00.000-05:00

Oh music. Next to current events and television it’s a popular topic to discuss. It tells you a lot about the person, yet remains comfortable and unintrusive. “What kind of music do you like?” they ask. “Aren’t you clever?” I think. Jokes on them because I don’t have an answer. I couldn’t tell you who my favourite band is, or why I like a certain song. I rarely listen to music and when I do it’s quickly forgotten.

In college, I used to work at my computer and listen to talk radio. I know I’m probably not old enough to admit this, but I like talk radio. I enjoy the banter, the stupid callers, and the format of the shows. I never understood all the people that sat in their rooms and listened to music for hours. I guess it was a fun way to pass the time? My sister used to tell me to do that, but I didn’t understand the stereotype.

I'll stick with my Alan Combs, Bill O'Reilly, and George Noory. In the meantime, keep listening to your music, don't worry about me, and stay off my lawn.

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Maybe It's Just Me

2009-06-24T10:00:00.000-05:00

Signs you’ve been a receptionist too long:

You make small talk with strangers even when not being paid.
You know how long it takes before a telemarketer will hang up after being put on hold.
You forget you don’t have real office walls. ("People can see through the glass?")
You answer every phone call with “good morning!” even when you’re not at work.
You end your sentences with “one moment please” without realizing it.
You get protective of lobbies and parking lots.
You forget your home phone doesn’t have a hold button or a direct to voicemail button.
You’re comfortable with old men flirting with you and come to expect it.
You associate numbers with people and vice versa.
You recognize telemarketers by their voice. ("Oh Tom, thanks for trying again today.")
You make up fictional people to make your job easier.
You know how to fake taking a phone message.
Your sentences all end with an upswing.
You consider salesmen friends.

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Deportation Unavailable At This Time

2009-06-22T14:46:00.001-05:00

Small talk. It’s a strange, yet fun thing. I rotate topics to minimize being repetitive but enjoy talking about my citizenship journey the most. In a few weeks, it will be 8 months since I was sworn in. Beyond that one day, it was a huge process. Interested in a summary?

I moved here January 24, 1999. I was sworn in October 30, 2008. Start to finish, that’s 3,567 days. I received my green card on June 23, 2003. That date is key. Before then, I had no permanent standing. It was the first step to becoming a citizen. Many people stop here. It gives them many of the same benefits as a citizen and lasts for 10 years. But where’s the fun in that? After the required 5-year waiting period, I formally applied for citizenship on July 16, 2008. That’s only 106 days from application to oath. When you consider it’s a government program, it was incredibly fast.

The cost, time, and commitment required was mind numbing, yet I knew I wanted to be a citizen. Even if I still don’t know exactly why.

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I Don't Speak No Stinking English

2009-06-18T13:44:00.001-05:00

Anyone trying to learn English will tell you the same thing: It’s a hard language. The rules are inconsistent, it can be phonetic but not always, and don’t forget slang. I come from an English speaking home but it trips me up. Certain words or pronunciations don’t flow. I have a few default lines to remedy this. My favourite is to tell people that it's my second language. This one confused my poor cousin. Heck, it confuses everyone, but it’s effective.

For here, I like to tell people I'm Canadian. Why that works, I honestly don’t know. I spoke strangely back home too. My made up or mispronounced words didn’t make any more sense. My accent is another story. I have something between a Midwest American and Western Canadian accent. It leaves me with neither.

In the end, as much as I hate English, I’m glad it’s my native language. If I learned anything from my citizenship class it's how easy I had it. My follow classmates struggled learning to read, write, and speak English as adults.

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By Whatever Means Necessary

2009-06-15T14:16:00.003-05:00

I feel relieved. I think. I got what I wanted, but took the coward’s route. My need was simple: Get my vacation request approved. Instead of getting up the nerve to bring my slips to my boss, I left them in her mailbox. My excuse, albeit pathetic, was true: I forgot that the slips were on my desk (I didn't mention it was intentional). Regardless the result's the same; I’m going on vacation!

I love going on trips, but I hate this panicked feeling. Part of it is because I can’t plan for everything. I also hate to spend money. The bigger part is now I have no vacation time left. I don’t have a buffer of extra time. Which brings me to another point, why do I feel guilty for going on vacation? I earned it. Leaving on vacation feels like a death sentence. I’ve seen it happen before. You train someone to do your job (feels like giving away trade secrets) and next thing you know they have your job.

Maybe I shouldn’t worry. As I find out every time I come back, no body else wants my job.

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You Did A Very Bad Thing

2009-06-11T15:40:00.003-05:00

Even though phones are obsolete, I expect you to know how to use them. Here are some examples of things that don’t work (at work).

Not paying attention. If the ringing stops, that’s your cue.
Yelling. Just because you can't hear, doesn’t mean I can't too.
Being rude. I’m sorry your husband cheated on you with your sister, but I'm not to blame.
Vague questions. I don’t know Mike who works in the shop. I need a last name or a department.
Vague ideas. If you don’t know why or whom you’re calling for, WHY did you?
Flirting with the receptionist. It’s creepy.
Calling for no reason. If you could have called him at home, you should have.
Assuming because you called, they have to answer the phone. They do have free will.
Rambling. Be clear, but not specific.
Guessing games. No, I don’t know who this is, don’t have caller ID, and don’t want to play this awkward game.

Most of these apply to work, but I’m sure someone, somewhere feels my pain. Right?

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Propa Lang Skilz R Crucial

2009-06-10T16:15:00.005-05:00

Like flocks of geese, large groups of people worry me. Ignoring the obvious crowd issues, the bigger problem is when they have too much in common. Every group needs some balance. You’ll end up with a more interesting and functional group.

I exercise at a female only facility. Yeah, there are benefits, but it's strange. I like to talk about twitter (they need to be exposed). Usually this leads to some old fashioned bigotry (regarding twitter, text messages, or online communication). Last time these concerns came up: Poor spelling, social dysfunction, and stupidity. I wondered if I should walk away? Argue (again) that phones and voicemail are an obsolete technology?

I tried to explain why twitter helped communication instead of hurt. I tried comparing text messages to voicemail. Their argument: think of the children. So an 8-year old who things text speak is proper grammar is why you abandon text messaging? A kid victim to cyber stalking is a reason to abandon the Internet? Please.

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No Pizza For You!

2009-06-08T14:50:00.005-05:00

It’s funny how when people don’t want to do something, they bring it to me. Today it’s ordering pizza for a supervisor. I’m no more capable of ordering pizza then he is. He doesn’t want to be bothered. I hate ordering food: for myself, for my family, and especially for other people. I don’t get any, yet I have to stress about getting the right amount, from the right place, at the right cost. I might get some of the cold leftovers but so will everybody else.

I never know how much to get. They like thin crust. I never order thin crust. It's for 53 people. I don’t know 53 people. One restaurant recommends that a 16” thin crust serves 3 people. Yikes! To make it worse, I have to order for two shifts. For someone who hates talking on the phone (see #8 from my profile), this is a murder of an order.

A lady retired a few years ago. She used to get stuck doing this, but for her it was simple. She didn’t care, worry, or over think it. I envy her, but not enough that I want to be like her.

People Suck; Home Edition

2009-06-07T00:33:00.002-05:00

We live in a condo. Our building has 10 units. There are 2 on each end and 4 on each side. There are common sense rules for living in a condo. The typical be kind to your neighbour and be courteous to your surroundings junk. Normally things are good, but they're never perfect. Currently someone’s blasting beep bop music as if they lived in a barn. It's impossible to tell who’s to blame. Worse is our condo association’s solution: Call them and let them handle it. Which is great except they only work 8-4 during the week.

I talk to our neighbours in passing and they complain about it too. Yet no one’s to blame. How does that work? The only neighbour I trust is the 86-year old in the unit below us. He told us he doesn’t like to be disturbed. He also sits at his window to make sure no one parks in his assigned spot. A few months after we moved in (and periodically since) he asked if we still lived here because he couldn't hear us. I wonder: Could the least likely suspect be the guilty one?

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On the Seventh Day...

2009-06-01T14:24:00.004-05:00

When I started working, they told me the hours would get easier. They lied. Every morning I wake up late and tired. Mondays are especially rough because I sleep in on Sundays. Once bedtime rolls around, I’m not aware how late it is. Last night was no exception. After buying my tickets to Brewfest, I went back to watching old episodes of House. Around 2 a.m. I call it a night. Five hours sleep is functional.

At 6 a.m., our lousy condo neighbours decided to ring our doorbell and bang on the door. Startled and confused, we thought we had imagined it. Half an hour later it happens again. We hear loud talking. Convinced something might be wrong, we answer the door. Their lower condo unit was flooding and could we be to blame? We don’t share a wall with their unit (they share 3 but not with us). They let us go back to sleep but continue to yell outside our window.

They amaze me. Personally, I would be inside trying to prevent further damage and calling the emergency number. Think much?

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I'm Not Listening, Not Anymore

2009-05-26T15:07:00.007-05:00

I sit outside of the president’s office. Let me be the first to tell you nothing interesting happens in there. Most of the time I forget he’s there. With so many noises in the office, you learn to hone in on specific ones while ignoring others. I do this because I don’t want to be burdened with what happens in there (ignorance is bliss). It’s also none of my business.

Some of his visitors are harder to ignore. Their unfamiliar voices carry well. I catch sound bites. My favourite are the ones who are aware of me. “I should probably be quiet.” (Or maybe you shouldn't be saying it at all or saying it somewhere else.) Regardless, I don’t care. There’s only been a few times where I left because I was uncomfortable.

Considering I had a lovely long Memorial weekend, I’m cranky today. The gossip and politics are bothering me more than normal. Not even my Brobee or twitter are cheering me up today. My new wallpaper helped the most. I enjoy my wallpaper collection even if no one else does.

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And Did It My Way

2009-05-19T15:28:00.004-05:00

Tech support calls are challenging. It's a call no one wants to make and a job no one wants to work. Today, it was unavoidable. I send the payroll for the company through ADP’s site. It requires a digital cert. Mine expired and I wasn't notified because they had issues.

The Princess is in charge of payroll and made the initial call. She passed the call to me and they sent an e-mail to follow. No problem. Except I hit an error before I could download the cert. Princess calls again and tells me to stay on the phone until it's resolved. The second tech was worthless. She didn’t listen and seemed annoyed when it didn’t work. I explained it again. She randomly reset my password. She had no clue. I got a case number and hung up. Half an hour with her was enough.

Princess was annoyed with me. Having to call a third time was a major inconvenience. Apparently I was supposed to be aggressive and demand someone else. Or not. I got the problem resolved with the third tech without being rude.

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Smeg, The Cat Has A Cousin!

2009-05-15T11:52:00.004-05:00

Five years. That’s how long I’ve been a receptionist. Each week I'm still surprised. It’s like the best reality show you’ve never watched.

Today it was a visitor. We've had a lot of job applicants. We’re not hiring but they still have to try. Each has a different story. Since we’re a machine shop, most are casually dressed. A few still wear a suit but nothing like this last guy.

He was well spoken and nicely dressed. He was informed about the company and made small talk. He was an ideal applicant. What made him special was his clothing. He had a long, fur trimmed brown coat, custom tailored pants, and a gold chain. Oh and his pants and shirt were florescent, day glow yellow. I kid you not.

The amount of time, money, and effort he put into his outfit was staggering. Oddly, I think he pulled it off. It worked in a horrifying, blinding kind of way. He could have gone overboard with a hat but he knew that was too much. I’m left wondering what kind of car would go with that outfit?

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What's In A Name?

2009-05-14T16:33:00.002-05:00

I’ve always liked my name. I’ve never wanted to change it. My family’s naming structure is strange but simple. All of our first names have three syllables (this was important to my dad, but who knows why). Our middle names are after family members. I was named after my Great Aunt Rose (anyone who pulls that name off has to be cool).

Today one of my visitors had the same name as me. I didn’t like it. I felt intimidated and scrutinized. Apparently a big selling point of my name is how few Katrinas I run into. I don't feel (or want) a connection to them and cringe at the thought of having a common name. My name plummeted after the Hurricane and that's a plus.

One night I was at the bar with two James. They liked having the same name. Guess what guys, that’s why you have nicknames and I don't. People try to give me nicknames because they're lazy, but it never sticks. When I started working, they wanted to call me Katie. It was simply to avoid learning a new name. It didn't last long.

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Et Tu, Facebook?

2009-05-12T08:46:00.003-05:00

Everyone knows I like twitter. I enjoy the random, semi-personal aspect of it. I don’t, however like Facebook. It fills me with regret, angst, and doubt. Facebook reminds me of school when you had to pick a group. I was plagued that they may not want to play with me. It brings back those memories; connects me with old friends, classmates, and bullies. Because of this, I wait for a friend request. I figure it means they want to play.

Today, I boldly sought someone out. While searching, I came across another name. A name that should be in blue, only it was black. I was removed! I spent most of junior high with this guy. We had a falling out, but later became Facebook friends. He has over 400 friends, yet singled me out. I’m not the most prolific user, but to burn me again?

It's proof I need to spend less time worrying about old friends. Being friends 15 years ago doesn’t mean we have anything in common now. Twitter is customized to my interests, not who I feel obligated to talk to.

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What's Worth Saying

2009-05-08T16:16:00.002-05:00

A coworker mentioned that half of the conversations we have at work would be grounds for termination elsewhere. People here often describe us as family. It feels like work, but we kid around and have a strange bond. This week I counted at least 5 completely inappropriate conversations (making it a slow week). Today I mocked our sales rep for being bald. Earlier our discussion involved heavy sexual innuendos. My favourite was the sales manager discussing what grass would be like if it were gay. Gay grass? The surrounding details were equally strange.

Beyond the conversations, they have inappropriate games. A popular one on the dock is: “Would you sleep with (insert name) for a million dollars?” To which, after much discussion, the answer is always yes.

To be fair, this is a manufacturing shop. Nudie pictures in toolboxes or a relaxed vernacular should be expected. Blue-collar jobs have some advantages. If those advantages happen to sneak into the office, I’m not going to complain.

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I Hate You Too, Adverbs

2009-05-06T15:51:00.001-05:00

Homework is a lot of work! A coworker’s grandchildren came in today and we tried to help them do their homework. I helped the older one with a poem, while he helped the younger one with her math. Then she needed help with her English. We both speak it, I like to proofread, no problem! The question that stumped both of us: What’s an adverb? He sent her to ask me, so I looked it up. I told her it modifies a verb. Her response: What’s modifies? It took 3 employees to help a 9-year old do her homework. Why do you need to know the parts of a sentence? This is why I’ll never be a good writer. I only care if the sentence is complete, not how.

School was a struggle for me. If I worked hard, I would do relativity well. Courses that bored me and confused me had no hope. Like social studies, I hated that class more than anything. It was full of boring facts and people I couldn’t remember.

Homework is what you put into it. I realise that now. I also realise I’m not smarter than a 5th grader.

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My Dog Is Better Than Your Dog

2009-05-05T10:30:00.006-05:00

Pet Owners. I find them fascinating. Over the weekend, I guess my boss’ neighbour’s dog was attacked and killed by another neighbour’s pit bull. Chaos ensued. As an outsider (AKA a non pet owner) it’s hard to have the same emotions. Two dogs mauling each other doesn’t seem weird to me. It sounds natural. I would imagine survival of the fittest also applies to dogs. Granted, it’s sad when anything innocent dies, but both dogs had equal opportunity. Others at work had a more...violent take. I overheard and I quote: “If that dog had attacked my dog, I would have killed it. I would have killed it and thrown it in the pond. Or burned it.”

I get that pets are like children for some people. What I don’t get is how this can turn into homicidal rage. Protecting a pet or a child is natural. Wanting to kill and burn something, anything, is disturbing. Maybe I won’t get it until I have a pet or child of my own. Until then, I’m going to hope like crazy that psychosis is not a normal side effect.

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Behave Or Your Pens Are Mine

2009-05-01T15:45:00.004-05:00

One of my responsibilities is buying office supplies. As many know, this is obnoxious and often difficult. People are stupid and irrational when it comes to their crap. I’m not sure who’s worse: the paranoid user who needs 20 in stock to be safe, or the inflexible user who needs brand names. I can forget I’m dealing with grown adults. I especially love finding messy ink cartridges on my desk when a note would suffice.

These days I need permission for everything I buy. It is stressful. I need to price it out, keep it reasonable, get it approved, and keep everything in stock. I get zero love or help when I run out. Trust me, it is sad.

This week our paper ran out. Normally we buy it on sale and order enough for 6 months. Unfortunately, 6 months in this economy could mean zero to hero and back. Never mind getting $700 approved. I revised my normal order, cut it in half, and made my plea. Today, May 1, I rejoice. For today I ordered paper. It seems dramatic, but I’m honestly excited.

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Another One?

2009-04-28T14:30:00.002-05:00

There comes a point in time when everyone around you is seemingly having babies. Obviously, the whole event is exciting. The news, details, and pictures are shared. Which brings me to my point. Are most newborns strange looking? It could be me. Maybe my fear comes to the surface. Strange new creature! Dependant on you! Run away! Or maybe, it’s the availability of pictures.

Facebook has allowed far too many pictures to be posted. I'm used to perfectly lit and posed baby pictures. Instead I’m seeing every day pictures full of snarling, drooling, crying babies. The easiest solution is to not look. However my Facebook feed taunts me like a car wreck. I think why not. Then, as I’m clicking through, I’m assaulted with baby spit up and parental nudity (I’m not old enough!). Suddenly I’m scarred for life.

I’m hoping when (and it is when) I have my own, I’m hit over the head with the SQUEES! You know, everything the baby does is delightful and amazing? If so, I hope I keep it unpublished.

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What's In Your Mystery Hole?

2009-04-26T14:26:00.000-05:00

I’m easily amused especially by everyday things. Because of this I tend to wander around and take pictures. It could be a spelling mistake, a funny drawing, or my lunch. Need proof? Pictures from the past week include: lady’s shoes at the grocery store, Admirals’ mascot, pancakes, salad, Brobee, hand soap, tree, giant cookie, and metallic wolf. Ever since I got the SO’s discarded iPhone, I have been unstoppable. This unactivated iPhone is well loved. It’s fairly well known that I have a picture ready for everything.

I guess I like the ability to go back and have a visual history, even if the most exciting part of my day was a trip to Home Depot. (Where the featured picture is from, I saved it for this very update.)

My most criticized pictures are of food. Food is a mini work of art. Don’t forget delicious. Why would I not take a picture? I have many pictures that will probably never be shared online. Not because I wouldn't like to, but because I can’t release all my craziness to you.

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What Was Your Name Again?

2009-04-22T16:33:00.002-05:00

Most days I can’t decide which is better: Caller ID or no Caller ID. At home, it’s amazing. We might pick up every tenth call (if we feel like it). Work is another story. Assuming can get me into trouble. With that in mind, some stuff is Need To Know (like the owner or an important customer).

After 5 years, I still question myself occasionally. Today was one of those days. I received a very friendly call and I'm not positive from who. I should know. I think I knew. Which leaves me with a dilemma: Ask and look like a jerk. Guess and screen the wrong person to my boss. I went with the latter, but I walked down and warned her. Caller ID would have eliminated the need to guess. I can’t be on my A-game everyday. I never found out if I was right.

I like to think that not having it makes me a better receptionist. I have to answer every call the same. It keeps me on my toes. I can’t be nicer when I know it’s the owner calling. At least this is what I tell myself as I slowly lose my mind.

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Crack Me Not

2009-04-20T10:16:00.000-05:00

I went to a chiropractor for three months. I loved them very much. In the beginning, I saw results. As the treatments diminished, so did my progress. I ended up with no new friends and little success. (I had high hopes for both.) At best, I can claim the pain is different. At worse, I can recognize the pain is still there. Unfortunately the cure is more treatment.

As much as I like my chiropractor, I don’t want to put his kids through college. I can’t afford the monthly maintenance and honestly don’t think I should need it. I’m not old. I’m not even old enough to be bothered by old jokes. I try to sleep, sit, and stand correctly. (At lot can be blamed on work. I sit at a desk, starring at a monitor, answering phones all day. I get it.)

For now, I’m going to ignore his calls. The monthly maintenance isn't covered by insurance. I’ve also stopped cradling my phone and put my monitor in line with my keyboard. These steps should help. I just wish there was a better (cheaper) solution.

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Sucking Machines

2009-04-16T11:22:00.001-05:00

Why do vending machines suck? After a decade, we got new machines in the shop (I miss the “Hot Foods!” machine). Excited, I convince myself to try them out. First item I try is labeled $0.70. Other items agree with this pricing scheme. Error; machine says this item should be $0.85. Nothing is $0.85! Frustrated, since I only have $0.80, I pick something else. Success! This one is programmed correctly. It starts to vend and gets snagged. Really? This still happens?

The machines are in the shop. Complete with a walk and safety glasses. I go back to search for money. (I don’t understand why people abandon their stuck items. I always find a way to buy it; I hate feeling like the machine has won. Even if it means two trips for an item I didn’t want.)

Third try was successful. I got both my items. It feels a bit like a failure, worse than the wheel of death (those sandwiches tempt fate). The true winner here is my SO. He got the spoils of my “war”. He didn’t even know he wanted Peanut M&Ms.

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Rick Deckard VS The Telemarketers

2009-04-14T13:42:00.002-05:00

Inside jokes are obnoxious. On rare occasion, they're useful. So begins the story of Rick Deckard. Telemarketers are slimy, sneaky, and persistent. Just like the Queen, they want Rumpelstilskin’s name to gain power. To cope, I came up with a plan. Give them a fake name. Simple right? It only works if it's believable.

My boss asked today who Rick was. I told him he was our god (as far as employees go). He’s anything telemarketers ask for: IT, Marketing, Owner... I have a fake voicemail with no name. It has an extension associated, but no phone. It rings silently before going to voicemail. This amused him (ironically not my other boss).

When I get a call for Rick, I can check the voicemail, see if it's important, and deal with it. It works beautifully. My other boss thought I should say we weren’t interested. Really? Have you tried that? It’s their job to get a name. I’m busy. Either I can be rude, hang up, or debate. Two out of three will cause certain death. The other wastes my time.

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The More You Know

2009-04-13T11:58:00.004-05:00

Things I learned this weekend: I still enjoy a good hockey game. You can force people to come out, but you can’t force them to stay out. When taking shots, it’s best to spread them out over time. Free wifi at bars is dangerous. No matter what excuse you have, you'll feel guilty for skipping family functions. MechWarriors is not a 15-minute thing. Motion sickness sucks, especially when there's no motion. Ice cream cone cupcakes baffle people. Walgreens sells eggs (but keeps them hidden). You can take on the Easter bunny and win. People are genuinely happy when you mention it’s your birthday. Gifts are nice but phone calls are nicer. Sometimes all you need is your best friend.

This weekend was my birthday (and something called Easter). I broke from tradition and mixed it up. It was simple but truly enjoyable. Maybe next year, to quote my sister-in-law, I won't "drink my face off". Honestly, it's something you could never plan. Thanks to everyone who made it a success (or bared witness)!

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Why So Serious?

2009-04-08T16:29:00.004-05:00

Just when I start to think that I've heard everything, something new comes along. Today a walk-in surprised me. He comes in and causally chitchats. It turns out he was representing a cleaning service. What made him strange was his approach. He was so sad. Actual conversation:

Him: Who does your cleaning?
Me: We do that in house.
Him: Really? Why would you do that to me? I have no business because of people like you.
Me: ...

When I spoke with him further, he reveled that he didn’t like his job. He then asked for a card to show that he "did his job”. I'm not convinced he'll follow up on anything.

The pity pitch was such a backwards approach. I told him he was the saddest salesman I've ever seen in my 4 years. He countered that he could have been even more pathetic. I hope he was serious about leaving his job. He has no business being a salesman. It would be a win-win for everyone.

I think I might recommend the “I'm a pathetic puppy dog” sales pitch to the president.

It's new anyway.

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Why Fake It?

2009-04-07T13:53:00.009-05:00

Election day! I never knew there were so many wonderful things to vote on. Today there's voting for a superintendent, clerk, trustee, and Supreme Court justice (not counting unchallenged positions). I’m dragging the SO to the voting poll after work. (Ironically it’s my sister’s church. Apparently separation of church/state was lost on somebody.)

My brother commented about how new citizens seem to appreciate voting. I worked hard for this. Of all the rights granted to me through naturalization, voting was the most significant. I also have the right to carry a U.S. passport, work in a federal capacity, serve on a jury, or petition for family members.

Voting has always been something I wanted to do. For years, my citizenship was the obstacle. After I was sworn in, it was easy to register. Unlike age or residency, they didn’t require proof. After all the hoops, money, and forms I had to fill out, I half expected something.

I guess the proof is that I was never charged with voting fraud.

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Please Don't Tease

2009-04-06T11:56:00.001-05:00

I wish I could be a tourist everyday. I enjoy it more than I should. I go on any tours or behind the scenes event I can find. A few years ago Racine ran a program where you could get an adult, behind the scenes tour. Awesome! It was of the library, art museum, and public museum but I still went. It was more interesting then you'd think. Bonus: wine was provided.

There's news that the Wolverine movie was leaked. I admit I’m not overly jazzed to see the movie. Having said that, there’s something about seeing an imperfect movie. I’m one of those freaks. I watch for images that have been reversed or scene continuity. My SO learned never to watch a subtitled French movie with me (I wish I remembered enough to listen to the French dialog! It’d be so nice.)

People speculate it’s a marketing stunt. Are we seeing something exciting? Or what they want us to see? Talk has been favourable towards the movie, but part of me that hopes this isn’t a ploy. I’m tired of Hollywood deciding what I view.

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Psychotically Early

2009-04-06T08:00:00.000-05:00

I got to work early today. It was a rare morning where everything clicked into place. Is this how it is for other people? I got up, got ready (without rushing), and it was still early. Normally this isn’t possible even if I wake up early and rush. Somehow those extra 20 minutes melt away and I get to work at the same late time. It’s frustrating.

I can only conclude that I suck at the mornings. I can’t remember a time where I didn’t suck at mornings. I was late to kindergarten and it’s been a thing ever since. I don’t enjoy being late, nor do I try to be. It just happens. Someone might psychobabble it’s my passive aggressive way of asserting myself. If that’s the case I’m doing it unconsciously. If you tell me how, I’ll try to change.

I have a theory. For the person who is always on time, I’m their counter-balance. There are two sides to everything. Night and day, summer and winter. That aside, I truly believe that there is no good reason to be late. Not that this helps me be on time.

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Llama Sit!

2009-04-03T14:12:00.004-05:00

The drama llama strikes again. To be fair I set myself up for this. I made a rookie mistake. A visitor came in for a scheduled appointment. I recognized him and asked for a refresher on his name (I’m terrible with names). He asked for llama and I went to get him. Problem? Llama’s name is rather common. So common we have 8 with the same first name. Three of those are involve with purchasing. Rookie mistake: I assumed I knew which employee to get.

Fine. I made a mistake. Had this been a non-drama coworker, I could have apologized and returned to my visitor for clarification. Unfortunately llama wanted to come tease him. It was all too tempting. I begged llama to stay at his desk (I honestly did) but he said he wanted to have some fun. Fun at other people’s expense is not cool. I really need to remember Mr. Generic next time. Since I remember why I can’t assume.

As a side note: The more common your name, the less likely I’ll remember it. The name that gives me the most grief...is Mike.

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Bribery Is Your Friend

2009-04-02T11:07:00.002-05:00

When do aging people start becoming rude? Do all aging people become rude? I sure hope not. Lately, I’ve noticed a disturbing trend. Some sales reps or salesmen I’ve known for years are becoming ornery. They’re using our good business relationship to demand crap from me.

I deal with a lot of people. All day. Everyday. When dealing with them my goal is to keep them in the same mood or better. As a receptionist, people are my top priority. Treat them first and with respect. This often works. The real jerks are few and far between.

For the record, I’ve been here long enough to know how I should be treated (and have more confidence to boot). I will admit I play favourites. If I know and like you I will go out of my way to help you. There is no reason to start demanding. Bribery is much smarter. You bring me chocolate? I will find who or what you're looking for. Please think twice before using a patronizing tone. A quick hello and who you’re looking for is a win-win for everyone. Promise.

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This One's For You

2009-04-01T20:11:00.004-05:00

Oh sneezing. It brings out the strangest behaviour in people. You have social, health, and religious ramifications associated with it. Plus the fact you can’t sneeze with your eyes open? Annoying.

I sneeze a lot, usually in threes. Allergies are funny like that. I have learned that "cute" sneezes are impossible for me, or that I shouldn’t sneeze directly into my hands (ugh). I can keep my car steady while sneezing and sometimes can will a sneeze away. What I haven’t figured out is how to be ignored.

The thing I hate most about sneezing is the attention it attracts. People comments, stare, and/or move away. I wish they could also ignore. I've brought enough attention to the fact I have to sneeze; you don’t need to acknowledge it.

I know the polite thing is to bless me. I appreciate the thought. There’s always one in the crowd. They don’t have to be anywhere nearby but they have to say it. Have to bring yet more attention to me. I guess there are worse things then being over-blessed.

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The Period Has It

2009-03-31T20:02:00.001-05:00

I think I’ve found a new way for my mild Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) to shine through. The idea of this blog was to keep the update short and easy to read. I randomly decided at 1,000 characters. I considered doing 1,400 (10 X the amount of twitter), but felt that wasn’t necessary. Besides, 1,000 is a nice, even number. Monk would approve.

As I write and edit to fit my updates to my self-imposed restrictions, I find myself pushing for exactly 1,000. It annoys me. It pleases me. Beyond my own personal preferences, I don’t know if it matters.

Unlike Monk, I’m not plagued by OCD, although it’s appeal is strong. I like things even, straight, or matching. Perfection is appealing, but the work to achieve it is not. Luckily, I’m not plagued with the anxiety of someone who truly suffers. OCD has strangely become part of everyday language. Maybe it’s because we’re sensitive to reoccurring patterns?

Whatever the case, I’m going prove I’m not a slave to it. This update? Won’t be 1,000

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You Will Not Win

2009-03-30T19:48:00.002-05:00

We have a few guys in the office. One is nicknamed Drama Llama, for good reason. One Friday afternoon I left my receptionist post to visit (it gets lonely).

This annoyed him. We have no caller ID so each call is new and potentially important. He decided to call the office from his cell. Several times. Hanging up each time. This happens occasionally so I didn’t think much of it. When it kept happening, it was obvious it was intentional. See also freaky.

Finally he burst out laughing and fessed up. He said I was talking too much and I should get back to work. Oh. Clever llama. Prank calls stopped being cool in 6th grade. I wanted to report him for misuse of the company phone. I could have missed an important call while dealing him. Plus it was upsetting.

I didn’t report him but my revenge has been passively sweet. I don’t screen his calls anymore, nor do I page him. He gets any telemarketer, cold call, or salesmen I can justify. Don’t mess with the receptionist; I’ll win in the end.

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OMG! PICTAR! Plz?

2009-03-25T16:34:00.000-05:00

Today someone in the shop collapsed. Emergencies services were called and rendered. As terrible as it sounds, it was the most exciting part of my day. I was disappointed the ambulance went to the CORRECT door. Had they came in the door near me, I could have taken pictures. Probably would have too. The fact this crossed my mind? Terrible. My dad says I should get a new job that “challenges and excites me”. My job isn’t the problem. It’s the fact we have no work. When we had work, I was entertained. This is hardly the time to jump ship for more excitement.

Regardless, it sounds like our dedicated employee will be fine. He’s being kept overnight for observation. Ironically, he moved to 1st shift today (originally on 2nd) after his 3-week layoff. The poor guy lasted through lunch before having a seizure. Everyone here is concerned about trauma to his head. Lately people with head injuries have not fared well. My new motto is don’t touch my head! (It used to be hair; I extended the area.)

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American Phone

2009-03-20T16:26:00.003-05:00

Before becoming a receptionist I hated phones. I hated everything about them. They’re a clumsy way to communication, also inconvenient. After being a receptionist for 4 years, I would like to tell you this opinion has changed.

It hasn’t.

Phones are obsolete. They may give me job security, but I want them replaced. By replace, I mean by something other than an automated system (the worse thing that happened to phones). I get making phones smaller and with easy to use buttons. I’ll never understand automated phone systems.

Over the years, I’ve come to view phones as an art form. I mastered a consistent rhythm and tone. Put procedures and escape plans in place. Something I still haven’t mastered? Placing phone calls. I may answer phones all day long. Deal with customers, wives, and telemarketers. Calling on behave of a company (or yourself)? It’s much different. One day, I’ll tackle this phone thing. Then move on to leaving voice mails.

With my luck that’ll be the day the phones die.

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Passive-Aggressive This!

2009-03-19T16:07:00.000-05:00

I wanted to write a post about how as a receptionist, lying now comes easy to me. I started to research a trait I’m often accused of: passive aggression. Even with Wikipedia’s questionable research, I can see why I’m accused of it. However, it seems difficult to diagnose or to recognize in oneself. Plus, depending on how you define it, it can apply to practically everyone or no one. Maybe it's the disorder of the day.

If nothing else, it should be considered a coping technique. In which case, can you fault someone for it? Sometimes we need to cope. It's better than the alternative. (So says the self-coined, passive-aggressive middle child.) My favourite opinion I read was we should consider calling an ass an ass. It’s more to the point and likely more accurate.

I’m also a passive driver. Hate on me for that if you must, but I have a perfect driving record. No accidents, no parking tickets, and never been pulled over. However... it proves to be the slower way to get from point A to B.

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The Princess vs The Dinosaur

2009-03-18T16:00:00.005-05:00

Office wars are common. Two in particular are constantly going at it. Swears, insults, and petty actions are common. This week it’s over the fax machine area. One lady (Princess) has been assigned to 5S it. The other (Dinosaur) likes it the way it is. One afternoon everything was suddenly pretty and standardized.

Princess warned me hell would break loose when she left. Dinosaur patiently waited until she left. Then approached me. I’ve been lucky, staying neutral when possible. She wants to know where the binder clips are. I mentioned Princess moved them. Wrong. Thing. To. Say. After some colourful language, slamming of office products, and a classic rant I sneak away.

Today everything was put back to 5S compliance. It’s quiet until Princess leaves. Dinosaur goes into action. A rant ensues over the defenseless stapler. Then the comment that sums it up: If she wants to take my stuff away she can but every morning it’ll be back where I want it. See if she can stop me.

Duly noted.

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Short, Fresh, & Sometimes Meaty

2009-03-17T15:56:00.002-05:00

Colour me inspired. For a while I’ve been interested in starting a blog. Problem: Most of what I say isn’t interesting. I also tend to be long-winded (I get excited!). Ironically I graduated in Technical Communications. Our motto: Write only what’s important and in as few words as possible. I did well in the program, but outside of its confines, old habits emerged. Enter twitter, 140 characters or less. I was challenged. I was hooked. Alas a blog twitter does not make. Unless...I modified it.

Solution: All the cool kids seem to use twitter as an extension of their blog. I want to use it as twitter enhanced. Keep it random, familiar, and brief. I think I'll aim for 1,000 characters or LESS. Unlike in school, where you had a minimum to write, I'm bringing back my program's rule of a maximum. If I need more than 1,000 characters, it's just proof I need to be more concise. Topics are the same as my twitter: Anything related to my immigration, work as a receptionist, or sleeping desires.

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Profile Me

1983-04-12T15:29:00.001-06:00

I’ve never had a blog before and hate the word.
I became an U.S. citizen on October 30, 2008 after much stressful waiting.
I love to vote. It doesn’t matter if it’s for an election, survey, or sleazy poll.
My middle name is Rose and I love it. I also love using middle names to honour your family (leaving your first name to be “unique”).
I love taking pictures of my food, your food, and stranger’s food. It makes me happy. Deal with it.
Fashion has always been a mystery to me. I keep my clothing simple to avoid any potential faux pas.
I have a total of three piercing. All in my ears. I feel balanced with three and don’t plan to get any more. Having four (matching) never appealed to me.
Having said that I love things even, balanced, and matching. I also love contradictions.
I believe it’s colder in Wisconsin then in Northern Alberta. That’s my opinion, not a fact.
I adore twitter and all it’s randomness.
People who don’t get twitter sadden me.
I’ve been a receptionist for over 4 years and love it. After my first week, I decided I would be happy working as a receptionist until I retired.
I hate “life-goals” and “career-planning”. Where’s the fun in that? Save money. Go with the flow. Live life.
When I took my job they told me it was a “stepping stone” and that I was over qualified. Now I’m not qualified for a raise.
When I started working as a receptionist, I hated talking on the phone. This hasn’t changed.
People like to forget I have a college degree. It’s an Associates Degree. I worked hard for it. It counts.
I have no desire to go back for further education. I rather get me some street education.
She’ll never know, but her blog inspired me: http://captainhambone.typepad.com/ (see also her about section).
A twitter follower and blogger motivated me to blog: http://beautifulfunnysadandtrue.com He may find out.
I believe imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
I never claim to be original or creative. Just friendly.
I do most of my writing at work. Reason number 156 why I love my job.
I despise moving but dream of living in a foreign country one day. You know, other than the current one.
I dislike people taking my picture without permission.
I avoid putting any pictures of myself up on the Internet because I’m paranoid.
I have a real picture of me on my twitter account. (It’s rather dated.)
As a kid, I swore I would never leave home.
I purchased a condo with my SO in October 2005 and have never regretted it.
I like to bake. I don’t bake as often now that I have to wash my own dishes.
I recently started cooking dinner. I like things that are simple and don’t involve handling raw meat.
Curry night is my favourite night of the week. Even if it’s not every week.
It involves chicken, but I buy it frozen and pretend it’s not raw.
To my sister’s disappointment, I order chicken at practically every meal.
I think I’m funny, even if no body else does.
If something I said sounds mean, it wasn’t. It’s likely you misunderstood me.
The more you harass me to do something, the less likely I am to do it.
I despise peer pressure. Unless its used as encouragement to finish your beer.
I’m a classic middle child. Deal with it. It’s likely your fault.
There are actually four of us kids so I’m not a true middle child.
I refused to do Facebook’s 25 things about you! It annoyed me and I didn’t want to share with my friends on Facebook.
I don’t know why since I love doing stupid surveys like that.
Sisko is my favourite Star Trek captain. I know this is controversial.
I truly believe Star Trek has all the best TV couples.
I enjoy buying fun t-shirts. I adore every single one of them.
Layering t-shirts is the only fashion tread I’ve liked and adopted.
My condo is pet-free. This gladdens me.
Sometimes I wish I had a rabbit. They make the best pets ever.
My SO’s uncle believes rabbits are afraid of everything and incapable of loving. We’re argued about this more than once.
I get into some strange arguments. None of which include politics or religion.
If Zombies ever attacked, I believe they would win in the end. Even if it’s the slow kind.
Just in case, we have a Zombie defense plan. (I wish I were kidding.)
Even though the entire process is frightening, I want to have kids. If I have a middle child? This will be my favourite child.
Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever feel like a grown up. Most days I don’t care.
I want a Scottish accent. More than you’ll ever know.
I love wearing my hair tied back. I don’t care if you like it better down.
I’ve had some form of bangs my entire life. I briefly tried growing them out. I did not enjoy this process.
My hair is naturally a shade of dirty blond. My eyebrows don’t match.
Coincidentally? They match right now because I dyed my hair “ebony-brown”. I like it even if no one noticed it was different.
I’m a notoriously bad speller. Sometimes even the spelling check can’t guess what I was trying to write. Please forgive me in advance.
I went to college for Technical Writing. Loved the program. Hated the field.
I got the second highest grade in our proofreading class. Don’t ask me how.
I sat next to the person who had the highest grade in proofreading. This is a strange coincidence.
I was the youngest in my program in college. Most of my classmates had children older than me.
We still hang out. I love our annual dinner. I call it my night out with the old folks.
I have a hard time making friends with people the same age as me.
Most of my friends are the older than me. This doesn’t change the fact that they are awesome.
I miss our friends from the SO’s college. They are amazing, but live too far away. (This doubly applies to my old high school friends who are further away.)
My mom and hang out regularly. Whether for a beer or a show, we have a good time. This is how we roll.
I still giggle at the number 69. It’s not that funny. (See number 53.)
I watch a lot of TV. It makes me happy.
Sleep also makes me happy. I’m working on finding a way to get paid for it.
I’m not a fan of trying new things. Especially when it comes to food. I’m fine with missing out.
I spent most of the afternoon working on this. The old me would have felt guilty. The new me doesn’t care.
I like to play both sides of a debate. The reason is because I don’t believe a debate can even be won.
This is probably why I suck at debates and sports. I think it’s because I don’t enjoy competition.
The only sports team I was truly a member of was floor hockey. It rocked.
They don’t play enough hockey here. Or curling for that matter.
I was once in a family-curling league. We lost every match. I still enjoyed it.
I hate public speaking. I avoid it at all costs.
People used to think I was quiet. Being a receptionist has helped change that. Twitter has probably made it worse.
I love talking to my visitors at work. Even the sales people.
I dubbed last year (2008) as a year of firsts. I tried and did many new things. I know this contradicts number 72, but I never said I enjoyed it.
I look young for my age. It seems to run in the family. I will appreciate this fact when I’m older.
I worry people won’t enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
With that in mind, I remind myself that only my opinion matters. It makes me feel better.
I don’t believe in tanning. In fact, I’m very against tanning. Proud to be pasty! Join me!
I hate wearing sun block, but I do it anyways. I own three different kinds.
We go on an annual trip to Florida. Because of all the sun block I come back whiter. It happens.
Time is not my friend. There is no good excuse to be late, yet it’s a bad habit of mine.
In two years, I haven’t had a work review. When I do, they will mention the fact that I’m always late. I rationalize it because my boss is always late too.
I found my dream job. It’s not here, but it involves being a receptionist. I’m keeping it on the back burners.
I got my current job because of my SO. Everyone here has some kind of connection.
I’ve dated my SO for almost ten years. Without any breaks. I’m proud of that. < 3
Don’t ask when we’re getting married. I won’t answer.
When I’m rich? I will never drive again. Driving bores me.
My driving record is perfect. I give them no excuse to pull me over. So far this has worked to my advantage.
Despite the fact I hate traveling, I want to do more. I enjoy being a tourist entirely too much.
Most people struggle to reach 100. I think twitter has rotted my brain in such a way that random facts or statements are easy. This could be problematic.
Easter is my favourite holiday: Spring, chocolate, bunnies, and ducks. It has success written all over it.
I believe in the underdog.