Doling Out the Punishments - Passive Agressive Style

People have gotten really dumb this week - have you noticed? I mean good lord, it's only Tuesday, but I've already received record volumes of frantic voice mails and moronic emails chock full of flaming envelope symbols and red exclamation points and the word URGENT! in the subject line from project team mates and co-workers who are normally quite lovely and reasonable.

These people are making demands, kicking ass and taking names and I feel like I have spent my entire day talking them down from ledges and reminding them of existing procedures that have been in place for 1000 years and asking them to revisit their old friend Common Sense and I've had about all I can take.

Calm down crazy face.

We are not performing neurosurgery here and nobody's life or job is on the line. Think about it for a minute - why would I need to request graphics for a vat of goo? That's right genius. You just sent out an angry gram, flaming envelope style email, copied to twelve million people including my boss and yours, demanding that I put graphics on a vat of chemicals.*

Re-fucking-lax dumb people.

Take yourself down to whatever is your gender appropriate restroom and splash some cold water on your face (get a coolpapertowel). Calm down and prepare for your punishment for bugging me all day fucking day with this ridiculous bullshit.

Your punishment? I will hit "Reply All" and publicly humiliate you by pointing out your blunder and reveal to the world that you have cotton candy between your ears in the form an email designed to appear informative and friendly, reminding you in a joking fashion that we cannot put graphics on goo (you silly!) copied to 12 million people including my boss and yours.

Take that jackhole.

I've also been experiencing a very high volume of asshats who are trying to work around the normal rules and procedures that have been in place for 1000 years, sending purposely wonky stuff my way and think that I won't catch on.

Well they are wrong.

The punishment is the same. Public humiliation in the form of an email designed to look like an innocent question and request for clarification about the wonky bullshit thing you sent me, copied to your boss and mine, that will make it perfectly clear to all parties involved that you are trying to get away with something sneaky and that I am on to you, you weasel.

URGENT! ? My ass.

*Not a real scenario, but similar and equally stupid.

Other News

So I just finished writing the post below (kinda boring, but what-ev) and I called my best friend Amy who tells me about a huge drug bust back home. I went to a website of a local Columbus news station to read about it and got distracted because I saw this first:

I really miss living in Central Ohio just for bizarre headlines and news bips. People in Michigan just aren't weird enough.

Old News

We have an excellent NPR station in Michigan. It's one that actually seems to have enough funding to broadcast all day, unlike the one that we used to have back home in Columbus that only broadcast from 6am until around noon and then after that they played really shitty classical music. The kind that sounds like the muzak you'd hear in hell's waiting room. The NPR station in Columbus was so terrible that I didn't even bother to program it on my car radio.

Now that I have a good resource I listen to NPR all day long while I'm at work. Mostly live streaming, but sometimes, if there's a story or show I'm particularly interested in I'll wait and listen to the archive so that I can pause and/or rewind if I get interrupted. Those pesky co-workers of mine are always up in my grill while I'm trying to learn about the post traumatic stress disorder in Tibetan monks and shit.

Lately I started listening to archived episodes of Wait, Wait... Don't Tell Me! For those of you who don't listen, Wait, Wait... Don't Tell Me! is a weekly news quiz show that is freakin' hilarious. It's usually on on Saturdays, but I'm far too busy watching TV and playing video games on Saturdays so I like to catch up with the show while I'm at work. On Mondays I listen to the previous Saturday's show and then every other day of the week I choose a show from the archive. Yes. I am that big of a dork.

Anyhoo... sometimes while listening to a back episode of Wait, Wait... I hear stuff that is so outlandish that I look up the news story myself to make sure it's really true and today I've decided to share one of them with you. Maybe you already heard about it back in October, but this lovely tid-bit made me honk out loud with laughter.

Traffic Cops in Germany Foiled Repeatedly by Red-Light Running Muppet

How do you like your eggs? Oh dear, clumsy me...

Well I can tell you that it doesn't really matter how you like your eggs because if you come to my house and I make you breakfast (brunch more likely) you are going to get your eggs cooked over easy in a little smidge of real unsalted butter and laid lovingly to rest upon slices of toasted 9 grain bread. If you play your cards right Buster I will sprinkle your eggs with imported fancy-schmancy French sea salt and fresh ground pepper.

I have perfected eggs on toast and maybe it's gone to my head a bit.

You know I was ready to leave this post - just like this. Don't the eggs I cooked today look great and there you go. A simple post about my cooking. But as I added the photo above I realized that although my eggs on toast are indeed perfect and splendid to behold, the hideous dish they are laid upon is one of my least favorite things in the entire world.

There aren't that many left in the set, but man do I hate those dishes and not only because they are so very ugly - Look at ME! screams the pattern - I'm a confetti filled fiesta! OLE! - but also a wee amount because they were a wedding gift from MDH's previous marriage. He got the dishes in the divorce.

Sometimes people who have known MDH and me for years are shocked to learn that he was married before me. He has always been very low-key about it.

I could almost forget about it too were it not for having to look at that butt ugly set of dishes glaring at me from the cupboard every day alongside some equally repugnant chrystal goblets and assorted gravy boat gew-gaws selected from the bridal registry at a swanky department store in 1992.

Once, a few years ago before our big move to Michigan, I suggested that we downsize and pack these things up and give them to charity and he had a fit. He lived with these sparkling gems for many years during his life as "divorced guy" and to him they are sentimental. Not because they were wedding gifts, but because they represent the only time in his life that he ever really lived on his own.

The morning after the first night we spent together at his apartment he served me orange juice in a brass-rimmed chrystal champagne flute with an etched stem. I thought - either this guy is divorced or I have just had sex with Christopher Lowell.

Anyhoo... I put up with these ugly ass dishes and the ridiculously ostentatious stemware because I love the big mug (so to speak). I never want to be one of those wives that makes her husband throw away of all of his stuff just because it doesn't suit her tastes, like Carrie Fisher and Bruno Kirby in that scene with the wagon wheel coffee table in When Harry Met Sally. I never want to be like that.

S'alls I'm saying is that sometimes my hands are slippery and accidents do happen.

It's Crazy

I'm thrilled to bits to have been listed as one of Coaster Punchman's Crazy 8's, but disgraced and ashamed that I am only just now getting around to acknowledging being bestowed with this high honor.

In my defense I have been so busy at work the past 2 weeks that my eyes have barely been able to even graze the pages of my Google Reader.

What have I been up to, you might ask?

Remember last week when I told you that my contract was going to end forever in August? Well, I've been busily campaigning to get that new job (things are going really great so far although I have not yet been asked to interview) and at the same time I've been training my replacement - Norman Newguy.

Norm has practically been attached to my hip for a fortnight, which has been terribly uncomfortable as we are both married and he is freakishly tall.

I would like nothing better than to read your blogs, but Norm is always right there by my side. Even when I have safely tucked him in all snug and cozy in his own cubicle I still have no privacy because he is so monstrously tall that he can see right over the cube wall and I feel like he's always looking over my shoulder. It's maddening.

Anyhoo... Coaster Punchman named little ole me as one of his Crazy 8's and I should probably explain just what in the hell that means - so I'm going to paste the explanation:

“These bloggers are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.”

Nice eh?

Like I said, I'm honored.

Now comes the hard part - I have to choose only 8 bloggers to spread the Crazy 8 blog love. Difficult. I love you all so very much. If I've named you below won't you please accept a copy the pretty little graphic at the top of this post and name your own Crazy 8?

Here are my Crazy 8's:

Gwen - I love her. We are foul mouthed kindred spirits. If we lived closer to each other it could get scary.

CDP - One of the few bloggers out there that knows my secret real identity. She's a phenomenal writer - funny, honest, touching.

Tara - She is prolific, I can barely keep up, but she is so lovely and charming, I keep trying.

The Vegetable Assassin - I'm a new reader to her blog, but already a big fan. Not only does her handle have the word "ass" in it twice, but she is also hilarious and so relatable.

Chris Radloff - He writes what is on his mind and it is often insightful and lovely and causes me to walk away from the computer for a minute, find my husband and give him a big hug.

Sparsely Kate - A single mom on the other side of the planet from me who opens up and bravely shares her innermost, darkest thoughts and funniest insights. I'm always rooting for her.

Some Guy - It was his blog and his blogroll that started it all for me. I added his blog to my blog roll and mistakenly called it a "tag". So naive.

Pistols at Dawn - He makes me laugh out loud with nearly every post. That being said, I also want to hug him and shake him violently at the same time, but it would probably either cause him to get an erection or puke (or both) so I'll just shut up and keep laughing.

Update 10:23pm 3/22/09 -

After I hit the publish button yesterday morning I was unable to log back in long enough (due to spotty Internet service for which I blame the fucking college basketball tournament that everyone seems to be streaming online) to read any blogs or let any of the nice people in the list above know that they have been tagged. I was also unable to run a spell check and remove the word "erection".

Not having Internet service is a terrible pain in the ass, so to get my mind off of it I started doing laundry and making Kale and Chourico soup and forgot all about it until this very moment. I have since performed a spell check and decided to leave the word "erection" because it's 10:30 and I am too tired to worry about it anymore.

The News Roundup

Pardon me won't you while I cram about 15 days worth of blog posts into one. I'm all economical and shit like that these days.

1. I don't want to intrude on Some Guy's blog topic turf because, of all of the people in my particular section of blogland, he is the resident expert on documentary films, but I'm piping in with my 2 cents because in the past 10 days or so I've seen 2 terrific documentaries. I haven't noticed that he has mentioned them, so I feel compelled to step up. I figure since he didn't mention them that perhaps he hasn't seen them and they are both worth watching.

Joe Strummer: The Future is Unwritten (2006) - An intensive biography of Joe Strummer, narrated by Joe Strummer himself via old interviews and recordings from his radio show. Even if you are a only a marginal fan of Joe Strummer and/or The Clash it's a must see.

I Like Killing Flies (2004) - An unfortunately titled little film about a tiny hole-in-the-wall Greenwich Village diner called Shopsins. The diner, it's quirky owner and his family are a neighborhood institution. The title really turned me off and I almost didn't watch it (except I have that weird obsession with all things New York, so I decided to give it a shot), but I'm glad I did because the film is delightful. I loved this film, but I will never set foot in that restaurant man, no way. Kenny Shopsin can be one scary motherfucker. I'm from Ohio and far too delicate for that big city bullshit.

Both films are available on Netflix.

2. My contract has been extended until the end of July, after which time it can be extended no further and I shall be let go due to a corporate policy limiting contracts to a year and a half.

If I don't find permanent work soon come July I will be cast out like a bad penny. Wait, that sounds wrong. I've got some phrases mixed up. Cast out like a bad apple? No. I'm definitely a good apple, but I'll be cast out like... um...oh whatever - it sucks donkey dongs because I really like my job. So put that in your hat and smoke it.

3. I have applied for another position that has recently opened in my department. I know more about the competition this time so although I'm going to pull out all the stops I'm not going to get my hopes up quite so much as I did last time. It is very early in the process and I don't know yet if I will even be asked to interview, but I have begun campaigning. Hard. I need a new suit and all the trimmings (yeah shoes!).

4. I have informed the co-worker friend who bugged me every day and drove me so crazy when I applied for the other position a few months ago that I referred to her on this blog as a "nosy twat", that if she so much as lifts an eyebrow in my direction that seems remotely as though she wants to ask me if I've heard anything about the job that I will punch her right in the throat and never speak to her again.

OK. Not really.

Punching her in the throat is Plan B, but I did inform her of the new situation (figuring she'd hear about it from someone else and turns out she already knew that I applied. How? How?), reminded her of how much she upset me previously, told her that I did not wish to discuss it with her ever and asked her (nicely) not to attempt to bring up the subject with me. Ever.

5. MDH is in Indianapolis for the weekend for the college basketball thingy. I'm naturally beside myself with glee to have the house to myself for a few days. Here's a quick rundown of how I've spent my weekend so far.

Friday Night - total TV fest. I watched all the vagina shows that MDH hates so very much including a new series called Running In Heels, and a French subtitled movie called Toi et Moi (2006) about two sisters living in Paris and the all trials and tribulations of their vaginas. I had cold cereal for dinner. It was fabulous.

Saturday - Awoke at the crack of dawn, showered and tarted myself up for a successful day of serious suit shopping. The last mall of the day has a little take out Thai place that cooks the food from scratch while you wait. There are no heat lamps or sweating metal trays filled with simmering goop. No. They cook that shit right in front of you on a big Vulcan stove top with real pots and pans and utensils and everything.

I ordered a Green Chicken Curry and it was fantastique! Mwah! (Imagine I have just gathered all of the fingers on my right hand together into a point, brought them to my lips and blew a big kiss, a la cartoon chef.)

In the evening I talked to my best friend Amy on the phone for a very long time and afterwards blissfully played the Sims 2 without interruption until the wee hours of the morning. It was the kind of day that my dreams are made of.

Sunday - It's still happening so I really can't say for certain, but I envision something similiar to Friday except interspersed with laundry, bathroom cleaning activities and a Lindt chocolate bunny. Good times.

and then I'm 'appy for the rest of the day...

My iPod is truly the gift that keeps on giving.

How could anybody on earth possibly have a bad day when your morning drive to the office includes the following 3 songs?

Parklife - Blur

Sexy Motherfucker - Prince

Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen

In exact order.

Hey, I just noticed as I'm typing this that all 3 artists have a one word, one syllable moniker. What's the significance? Ordinarily I would have said "uh, none", with disdain while I rolled my eyes, except that the fourth song, the one that I didn't even include in the list because technically I didn't get to listen to the whole thing, only like the first couple of seconds, was by Ween.

Chew on that until tomorrow when I will post some numbered points to get you caught up with what is going on in Ladyland lately. Get ready for lies and exaggerations.

Dishes Best Served Cold

When I started getting hungry at work this afternoon at around 3:30 or so all I could think about was eating a fork full of the leftover chicken and noodles I made this weekend - cold from the fridge.

Not that my chicken and noodles aren't dandy tasting when they are hot and fresh the day that I make them, but there is something quite satisfying to me about eating them cold from the fridge.

There are many other foods that are meant to be served hot but I don't always heat up the leftovers because I enjoy them so much cold. Some people (like ones that I'm married to) are grossed out by this so I usually keep this type of information to myself and reserve my cold food dining for moments when some people aren't around.

Like tonight for instance.

Some people have fancy important jobs and occasionally have to wine and dine certain big-wigs from out of town at fancy-schmancy restaurants on their expense accounts. While others of us are left home alone and don't mind a bit because they have looked forward for weeks to having an evening alone so a big dish full of cold chicken and noodles can be happily consumed in peace while guiltlessly watching last weeks episode of What Not to Wear on the DVR.

Tonight it's just the chicken and noodles, but here are some of my other favorite cold foods:

• Pepperoni (but not sausage) pizza
  
• Fried chicken
  
• Dressing (like the kind made from breadcrumbs left over from Thanksgiving) in a sandwich (wheat bread) with cold turkey gravy


• Mac and cheese (but only homemade because cold Kraft mac & cheese tastes like ass (not that I would know))


• Tuna noodle casserole


• Cherry pie

Hungry yet?

Please make me feel less freakish and tell me about your favorite cold foods.