Monthly Archives: April 2013

Workin’ girl blues

Here we have another Sunday where I am working. Second weekend in a row that I’m essentially glued to my computer.  Last weekend, it was the flaming shitball from hell document that I was working on.  This weekend? A not-so-flaming-but-equally-annoying document.  

Mainly because the sponsor is being assy and not providing the writer with essential tools.  The poor writer is over it and, in the midst of all this, forgot to provide me with the password to unlock the document.

Poor guy. I really do feel for him. I know he’s not being lazy because I’ve worked with him in the past and he’s already provided me with several resources this go ’round.

Did I mention I STILL love my job, though?

Because I do.

My last job (same company, different department/business unit) was all chicks. And all drama.  My current core group is mainly chicks as far as our job titles/functions go, but they are all damn cool ladies.  There is lots of encouragement and people jumping in to help one another.  On top of that, there is a lot of appreciation expressed.

I count myself one lucky, lucky girl.

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Somebody has a birthday today!

Somebody has a birthday today!

Baby girl is 4 years old! <3!

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Oh my….

nothing like waiting all week to get some billable work, then finding out you won’t get it until Friday morning.

Then finding out it isn’t the draft you thought it was and it’s incomplete.

Then finding out the sponsor is being assy.

Then finding out the document is not the usual 60 – 150 pages you’re used to, but rather 281 pages of death.

Oy.

But, let’s look on the bright side: the writer is nice and very smart, my scheduling chick knows I’m working hard, and I STILL love my job.

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Words and stuff

I just told my friend that I’m proud of her. 

And it got me thinking of where the origins of that phrase lie, and how weird it actually sounds. Do people for whom English isn’t a first language think it’s weird? 

I am proud of you. I am proud of you. I am proud of you.

It keeps sounding weirder.

It’s like that time I kept repeating the word “cup” to myself until it sounded utterly alien and I was like “WTF?”

Can you tell I’m not busy today?

*sigh*

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cocoNUTS

Still nursing an uncomfortable belly, but it’s WORTH IT:

My parents are in town and took me for a steak dinner.  They promised this plus a tank of gas because I helped my mom set up her new printer via phone.  We probably would’ve gotten steak anyway, but I digress.

Once we were finished eating, we stopped by Home Depot for odds and ends, then I remembered that we were very close to a local frozen yogurt joint. The kind with like twelve flavors and a bangin’ toppings bar.

I inquired, but no one wanted yogurt but me.

So I drove up and went in.

And, much to my utter delight, Cake Batter was on the menu.

I got a small bowl of it, then topped it with mounds of coconut and some sprinkles.

It was like a dang coconut birthday cake party in my mouth.

I look like I’m pregnant with Longhorn and Fuzzy Peach’s lovechild and I don’t even care.

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You should listen to this

You should listen to this

“East Hastings” by Godspeed You! Black Emperor

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No no no nononononononono. no.

As I sit here with sore and swollen gums, I am pouting like Veruca Salt without the yelling. Although I feel like screaming.

I usually LOVE going to the dentist.

But not after today.

My usual hygienist, Melinda, was the most wonderful person on the planet.  Super nice, did her job well, and was always fun to talk to.

Today, I found out Melinda is gone from the practice.

And in her place they gave me the most bumbling, sloppy, verbose woman I have ever met.

She scraped me with the pick before she even got near my mouth. She couldn’t adjust her settings, light, chair, whatever else well enough so was shifting CONSTANTLY throughout my cleaning.

She jabbed my gums and muttered “plaque” repeatedly, while running her mouth, getting water all over me, almost in my eye, and constantly  having me shift my head and the degree to which my jaws were open.

Halfway through, I almost told her to GTFO of my mouth. Then, I thought “I’m totally going to tell her that I can’t schedule my next appointment today, then call and ask for Eryn instead.”

Eryn is another super pleasant hygienist who did my cleaning when Melinda was out on maternity leave.

By the end, the dentist (who I also love) informed me I have “a little infection” in my gums and I would need to come back in 4 months instead of the usual 6. NOTE: I have NEVER, EVER, EVER had anything like this happen. EVER. Good teeth, only the smallest cavities, and pretty nice gums.

So I made my appointment with new lady, trying to keep up my “give people the benefit of the doubt more often” thing, and taking into consideration that she’s only been with that office 3 days.

But, if next time is like this time, I am SO bluffing on the scheduling, then calling back and getting Eryn.

I have legit pouted since I left, and have been frantically searching the internet to see if I can find out where Melinda has gone.

She is honestly the very best of all health care providers I’ve ever had.

And now, I no longer delight in having my teeth cleaned.

BAH.

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You know you’re a official nerd about lawn care when…

the phrase “Oh, snap.  Is Round-Up on sale?” comes out of your mouth.

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And now, a tale from my past.

My sister’s reenactment of this is the exact reason I once puked pizza and salad out of my nose.

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My thoughts on gay marriage, in one sentence.

If you still say “It’s ‘Adam and Eve’ not ‘Adam and Steve'” you need to Adam and leave.

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