Anyone ever beat Mike? I made it to him but never beat him.
February 27, 2009
February 23, 2009
A quick (and cute update) - PSB landed in Sydney a few days ago. She got some crazy international cell phone there, and she’s been calling give me updates. She loves the city and did a bunch of sightseeing yesterday, and she got to go to a wildlife preserve and PET A KOALA!!!! I will admit that I am very jealous. No offense, Hamilton. I wouldn’t trade you for a koala, but I would like to pet one.
February 20, 2009
I just found out Fountains of Wayne will be at Joe’s Pub next week. I had no idea. Not surprisingly, it’s sold out.
If anyone has an extra ticket for Feb. 25th, I’m very interested in buying it. I would greatly prefer not to be price gouged.
UPDATE: I just won an eBay auction for two tickets! A little pricey but not completely outrageous. Since PSB is gone, I need a date. Olya might come but she’s pretty booked, and could end up with a job that night anyway. Anyone interested in going with me?
SECOND UPDATE: I got a date. Yay!
February 19, 2009
I couldn’t get him to snuggle with my feet, though he’s done it before.
February 17, 2009
February 8, 2009
February 5, 2009
So I’m in a new position now, as of this past Monday, where I am supporting the VP of our area, the Group Leaders of two other areas, and one of those group leader’s two managers. It’s a step up, kind of. I haven’t gotten the raise that’s supposed to come with it yet. As I understand, I’m going to get a merit raise in a few months, and then a rolling promotion to a higher administrative level a few months after that. (That would be two promotions within a year, just for the record. I was actually owed that first promotion for a long freaking time, however, so it should not actually look as “impressive” as it does. And does it really look impressive? I’m a freaking ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT. “Oh, congratulations, C, now you’re an even bigger office bitch!” “Oh, why thank you, would you like your cup of coffee now, or would you rather shove your stapler up my ass again?”)
What’s been really annoying me is the way that it all transpired. The VP sent out an e-mail announcing the new admin positions. Who was listed first? Not me. His old assistant (who is generally nice, but is dumb, has trouble with the English language, and can be at times disrespectful to other managers, and at other times a royal bitch). Here’s how it read:
Ms. PoorEnglish McRoyalBitch, Administrative Lead – Supporting
my old manager (who very sweetly threw a huge temper tantrum when she heard that I would not be supporting her, as so I heard through the grapevine, as she also thinks PoorEnglish is a dolt)
three other managers
In addition to her direct support responsibilities, PoorEnglish will serve as Administrative Lead for the group. In that capacity PoorEnglish will be responsible for Administrative Partner staffing, training and engagement of the administrative professionals in the group. PoorEnglish will also be our liaison for facilities and office space related issues.
Mr. Twin C, Administrative Coordinator – Supporting:
the freaking VP of the entire area
two other managers
In addition to his direct support responsibilities, C will serve as program coordinator for the group. C will be a resource for meeting planning and preparation including the production of needed PowerPoint presentations and Excel spreadsheets.
So although I’m supporting the guy who sent out this e-mail to the division, I don’t get top billing, nor am I the “administrative lead” for the group. When you read that, who sounds like they are more important to the VP and to the group, me or her? My question is, why even bother having me support you? Just carry on with the dolt and leave me to my surfing. Not only that, but because we are theoretically moving to another floor within a few months, I don’t get to switch cubes with her - her cube is separate, away from everyone else, and I don’t think I’d hear the fucking vapid bitch on the other side of my cube from where her cube is, which would be a dream come true. I mean, I could probably throw a fit and make her switch cubes with me, but the animosity it would create would not be worth it. We’re going to be working together now for a while, and I don’t need her royal bitchiness pointed at me.
Ultimately, I think I am most annoyed by the fact that I CARE that I wasn’t given top billing or made administrative lead. I hate my job, I hate it here, and if I had any fucking clue what else to do with myself besides lay on the couch and watch movies and play poker and feed Hamilton assorted fruits I would do it. . . so I continue to suck it up, since it pays the bills. And yes, I know I’m lucky to have a job, especially with the economy in the toilet. I actually ran into a friend of mine who I haven’t seen in a little while, and he unfortunately got laid off from his position (if you’re reading this, you know who you are, send me your resume and I’ll get you into the system here). I just wish it weren’t always so soul sucking and disappointing, and I wish I didn’t give a crap about any of it, but when you spend 40+ hours a week somewhere, no matter how it sucks, I think it’s impossible to not care at all.
So congratulations, me! Thanks. Here’s your coffee.
February 2, 2009
Funny stories about the PolenMom in the comments please. Later today I will update this post with the infamous “cancer” story. Yes, I know cancer is not funny. But this story is. . .
UPDATE: One Thanksgiving years a number of years ago, after gorging on turkey and stuffing and pie, and after watching football and playing Scrabble, I was sitting on the stairs for a minute, getting ready to say goodbye to relatives who were leaving, when Twin B walked up to me, and with no warning gave me a purple nurple and said “Whistle and I’ll stop!”
I obviously couldn’t whistle, because you can’t whistle when someone is nurpling you, because it freaking hurts. I start laughing and yelling “OW OW OW I can’t whistle because you’re hurting me stop it OW OW OW!!!’ Then I realize there is only one way to escape. So I start to give B a nurple and say “FINE! You whistle and I’ll stop!”
There we are, at an impasse of nurpling. The PolenMom steps out of the kitchen and into the hall to see what the commotion is. When she sees the two of us locked in battle, she says. . .
“STOP IT! You’ll give him cancer.”
There is a moment of silence, and then uproarious laughter from B and me. Mom realizes the absurdity of her statement and starts laughing as well. And the moment now lives on in eternity as one of our funniest family moments.