Archive for November, 2006

I’m just writing this in case I die

I think it’s about 45 degrees in my office. I’m pretty much sweating to death over here.

15 more minutes….


I don’t know why my area of the building has suddenly gained the same climate as Aruba, but it’s still -16 outside. I’m even wearing a light shirt but I’m rockin’ pit stains from the damn heat!

The worst part is that the other side of the building is a lovely, cool temperature!

1 LMizzle
Salt and pepper to taste

Put LMizzle in unreasonably hot office at 300 degrees for 8 hours. Turn over after first four hours to ensure both sides are crisp and golden.

Serves eight.

No, YOU’RE a jerk!

It has happened. I have hit a point with “Anne” where I am so disenchanted about being treated like I’m eleven, that I think I’m turning into an eleven year old. I just read a snooty email from her explaining that I have such and such to complete today, and that it should keep me going for a while (*BIG FAKE SMILE*). I caught myself making a stink-face at my monitor!!!

Has it come down to this?! Am I stooping to the sub-idiot level with my stink-faces and fake “YIPPEEEEE” when she gives me something new to do? Next thing you know, I’ll be wearing diapers and shitting on the binders in my office. I won’t even be able to reach the damn lock on my door!

I can’t help but feel extreme aversion to this woman. Day after day now I am being talked to like I am fucking stuff up left and right, when really it is SHE who is forgetting to input things and losing faxes and just being generally shitty.

She’s emailing me on the hour to harass me to answer the generic phone lines and take messages, when the damn phone is in HER AREA.


Agh. I kind of hate myself for turning into a snotty kid when I am near her, but I just can’t seem to help myself. I’d like to be someone who doesn’t take things like this personally, but when I’m sitting through it for eight hours a day, I either do what I’m doing now, or I jump off the building into the street!

Maybe I should just bring a dog to work to leave a poop surprise….and by surprise, I just mean take a dump on her chair or something.

Tee hee!

Zelda Movie Time!

Poor Little Pug

So today was the ill-fated day my little buddy Winston had to lose his balls. He was so scared!

I’m like one of those moms who worries all day when their kid is sick.

“Is he okay? I wonder what he’s doing? I hope they’re treating him nice!”

Yes indeed my little man, we have taken your manhood forever more. Now your ball sac looks like two deflated balloons. Awww, nonboy wants that!

He’s kind of moping around and chewing his bone and being grumpy, but I think he’ll be okay.

I was curious at the vet, so I asked, “So what exactly do you do with the balls after you take them? Like it’s not that I think you keep them, but do you just throw them out?”

“Uhhh, yeah, pretty much.”

Well geez, I thought I was going to get some kind of wonderous and amazing answer like, “well actually we use them for blah blah testing, which is really good for the dogs.”


Natalie Dee says it best:

Memories Monday

I like this photo a lot because it looks like my niece is all like, “What the hell?! What am I doing out in the world?!”

When my niece was born I couldn’t even hold her because I was crying so hard. I pretty much knew I was going to cry though because any time I see “A Baby Story” on TLC, or anything like that I pretty much am always bawling. I get all, “LIFE IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND SPECIAL!!!!! WAAAAAAAH!”

This is also a gem because Sidney looks like, “Eyyyyyy, I’ma baby!”

Now here she is today with Uncle Steve!

Super model posing! SO ATTRACTIVE!

Why is a good collar so hard to find?!

I don’t know if anyone else thinks this is ridiculous, but I cannot find a hot pink dog collar anywhere! What the hell?!
Yes, the world has bigger problems, but hey, we’re talking about an awesome little pug who needs to look like a lady! I would never have thought I’d have such a pain in the arse time finding a DOG COLLAR.
I also realize that Zelda will grow out of the collar in a few months, but I just want a pretty little girly collar for my girly puppy!
The collars I keep finding either are NOT pink, or have some kind of tacky decal ribbon sewn on the outside of the collar, thus hiding all of the hot pink awesomeness.
I’m also on the fence about whether I should bother buying a dog collar that has a buckle, or a clip fastener. There’s just something about a clip fastener (like the pretty one above) that makes me feel safer for the dogs. Is that too nutsy?
I went to a few Petlands over the weekend and I’ve been to Petsmart and to Petcetera and the collars that they have that ARE pink are either baby pink (meh) or are really nice but they don’t have any that will fit Zelda because she’s too little.
You’d think pink would be popular for girlie dogs…I dunno!
Anyhow, that is my post-weekend rant. I called La Pawsh boutique to see what they had, and they have some, but with rhinestones, so I guess we’ll see. If anything else my trip there should be an entertaining one full of putting the dogs in ridiculous outfits!
Does anyone know where a gal can get a hot pink puppy collar?!

It may be cold outside, but my mommy keeps me warm.

Smiles and love! What’s better?!

Let’s Talk About Boobs

Oh boobs. You have confused me for so long.

So Oprah does these shows where she talks about how women don’t know their breast size and I always mean to check up on my own bra size…then I forget.

Well lately the ladies have been hurtin’ up a storm, so I decided to make a grand quest across the internet to find my bra size.

Findin’ it ain’t easy!

I consulted a few websites about figuring out bra sizes and measured myself out a size. It certainly wasn’t the size of the bra I was wearing!

Oh boobs, what’s up with you?!

I had to go to buy some bras because it felt like I was suffocating in my shirt.

Weeeeell, the bra fitting at home didn’t give me quite the right size, but I just had to change the width, not the cup (which had also changed). VOILA! My boobs felt like they were home.

A Hard Days Work

Today was a rough-ass dat at work.

I had to stop by Steve’s work this morning to drop off his glasses, so I emailed a co-worker and told her I needed to change a morning meeting time. When I got to work, our male co-worker hadn’t even shown up yet for the meeting, so I stopped by another co-worker’s office to see if she had anything I could help out with. Let’s call her Anne. I am splitting a workload probably 75% to 25% with Anne. The project is a holiday adopt-a-family that my organization runs every year. It involves corporations, families, or individuals registering to adopt a family that would otherwise have no Christmas. We’re talking people with no homes who have to stay with friends, or people like single mom’s with 4 kids…stuff like that.
What better job to take on than getting to be Santa, right?

Hmmm, not so right.

Anne seems to think that I have nothing else to do other than run this campaign (though this adopt a family isn’t in my job description, they just think I will do well running it).

We get over THREE HUNDRED donors matched to families, and the exchange happens over two days. The donor drops off the supplies all wrapped up nice, and the family comes later to pick up their gifts. It should be really wonderful to see.

Well, I am also one of a very small number of people working at this particular place who is splitting the task of raising a million dollar amount of money to keep our organization running. Not easy.

Anne doesn’t seem to remember that I have to do this.

I had a meeting at 9:30am this morning, which I was heading to, when she said to me, “You’re not going to that. You have to do this and this. This is your #1 priority. You need to check the questions on the phone line blah blah so you’re not going to the meeting.”

I am rather frustrated at this point, but I tell her I’ll reschedule. She then proceeds to tell me how to run my day.

Obviously, I do not appreciate this, but I tolerate her advice.

Until she tells me I “can’t go” to my meeting, because this is more important.


You ain’t my mom, and you ain’t my boss, DO NOT tell me how to do my job.

She was even freaking out when I was in the bathroom because she couldn’t find me! WTF!

“I need to know where you are so that I can come see you.”

Okay, would you also like to wipe my ass?

I realize I am around 20 years younger than everyone in my office, but I have a degree on how to run the entire office, so I don’t take kindly to being told what to do like I’m at home listening to my mom. That’s why kids move out. So they gain more independence.

It’s like she was talking to me extra slow because I might not otherwise get it.

At least I knew we had a scanner at work.

This was especially hard to deal with because my boss wasn’t at work today, and I don’t like to sit around complaining to others, but I figure I need to be rather tactful since this woman has been here longer.

No one would dare tell anyone else how to do their job and what is a priority in a days work, but I’m “the young one”, so YAY FOR ME.

Rough times. I don’t know what exactly to do! Any suggestions?

November 2006
2627282930 collective fashion consciousness.