If only I had known about this guy before I voted!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rykcxc5dIts
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
This might be the funniest thing ever
http://jezebel.com/5582562/clueless-secretary-makes-for-hilarious-office-email-thread
Check it out. Blogger has been weird about posting links lately, but if you click on the blog title, it will direct you.
Check it out. Blogger has been weird about posting links lately, but if you click on the blog title, it will direct you.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Greatest Hits
A lot has happened in the last couple of days, but most of it I've blogged about already. Weeks ago.
You may recall me devoting a couple of posts after the flood to explaining the wonders of the FEMA's operational methods, which include many well-thought out ideas such as refusing to tell disaster victims which losses are eligible for reimbursement and which ones aren't as well as a dogmatic insistence on communicating with me in Spanish.
Last week, I got an unsolicited actual phone call from a FEMA agent, who very nicely let me know (in English, surprisingly) that my appeal had been denied. The very polite woman even went so far as to agree with me that the agency should probably itemize their award letters to inform victims as to how they arrive at their award numbers, so people aren't forced to appeal just to get an explanation of their benefits. She apologized profusely that the agency couldn't do anything to help and wished me good luck in our recovery. Two days later we got an electronic deposit from FEMA for $700.
We got a letter in the mail yesterday stating (in both English and Spanish) that our appeal was granted in the amount of $692.94, with no further explanation. Sadly, this will conclude our FEMA experience.
You might also recall my posting about the bizarre characters at my local gym. I forgot to include Old Guy With Whooping Cough as one the recurring characters in that story. I would explain him in detail, but the title pretty much tells it all, except for the fact that he absolutely refuses to cover his mouth and generally manages to find a treadmill right next to mine.
Anyway, I really wish I would have waited on that post, because more stuff keeps happening. Last night, the only two people there were me and Mohawk Trainer Guy, who was wearing his trademark flip-flops. Perhaps not coincidentally, we were working out on polar opposite ends of the gym. But he was nice enough to leave, for the duration of his workout, a full water bottle on a machine next to me that I would have otherwise used. I guess he wanted to me to have it nearby just in case I got lonely. Or thirsty. And that wasn't nearly as bad as Air Guitar Guy, who last week stored his iphone on a piece of equipment he wasn't using and then used the phone to check his email after every single set of his 45-minute workout.
I'm assuming he was waiting to hear back from FEMA.
You may recall me devoting a couple of posts after the flood to explaining the wonders of the FEMA's operational methods, which include many well-thought out ideas such as refusing to tell disaster victims which losses are eligible for reimbursement and which ones aren't as well as a dogmatic insistence on communicating with me in Spanish.
Last week, I got an unsolicited actual phone call from a FEMA agent, who very nicely let me know (in English, surprisingly) that my appeal had been denied. The very polite woman even went so far as to agree with me that the agency should probably itemize their award letters to inform victims as to how they arrive at their award numbers, so people aren't forced to appeal just to get an explanation of their benefits. She apologized profusely that the agency couldn't do anything to help and wished me good luck in our recovery. Two days later we got an electronic deposit from FEMA for $700.
We got a letter in the mail yesterday stating (in both English and Spanish) that our appeal was granted in the amount of $692.94, with no further explanation. Sadly, this will conclude our FEMA experience.
You might also recall my posting about the bizarre characters at my local gym. I forgot to include Old Guy With Whooping Cough as one the recurring characters in that story. I would explain him in detail, but the title pretty much tells it all, except for the fact that he absolutely refuses to cover his mouth and generally manages to find a treadmill right next to mine.
Anyway, I really wish I would have waited on that post, because more stuff keeps happening. Last night, the only two people there were me and Mohawk Trainer Guy, who was wearing his trademark flip-flops. Perhaps not coincidentally, we were working out on polar opposite ends of the gym. But he was nice enough to leave, for the duration of his workout, a full water bottle on a machine next to me that I would have otherwise used. I guess he wanted to me to have it nearby just in case I got lonely. Or thirsty. And that wasn't nearly as bad as Air Guitar Guy, who last week stored his iphone on a piece of equipment he wasn't using and then used the phone to check his email after every single set of his 45-minute workout.
I'm assuming he was waiting to hear back from FEMA.
Overheard on 5th Avenue downtown...
First Woman: It's just stupid. It's just plain stupid.
Second Woman: It is duummmmmmmmmmbbbbbb.
FW: It's just plain stupid. (pause) I don't know what they doing, but it's stupid. Why do they wanna be so stupid?
SW: Well, I think it's stupid.
FW: It's just stupid. (long pause) Stupid. Stupid.
SW: I agree. Stupid.
I wish I knew what they were talking about. But it was probably something stupid.
Second Woman: It is duummmmmmmmmmbbbbbb.
FW: It's just plain stupid. (pause) I don't know what they doing, but it's stupid. Why do they wanna be so stupid?
SW: Well, I think it's stupid.
FW: It's just stupid. (long pause) Stupid. Stupid.
SW: I agree. Stupid.
I wish I knew what they were talking about. But it was probably something stupid.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
The Return of the Pool...
Life often develops into patterns that keep repeating. It's happening again now.
In the worst possible way.
My first real blog post was about how my evil neighbor had an above ground pool they never cleaned, the ear-splittingly loud frogs that it attracted, and the desperate lengths to which I had to resort to rid myself of the problem. Finally.
Until this week.
You see, the Health Department might have made my neighbor get rid of their old disgustingly brown pool, but they didn't tell her she couldn't get a new, slightly larger one to replace it! So that is exactly what she did while I was out of town last week (hardly a coincidence, I'm sure).
I came home to a new above-ground pool in my neighbor's back yard that's of such high quality that it's not only been patched once already in its 3 days of existence, the patch itself has subsequently been patched with duct tape. At this rate, it's only a matter of time until she ends up patching the duct tape with bubble gum.
Yes, for some reason, after failing to take care of her pool for the past 2 years, to the point where the Health Department, on its fourth visit, made her take action, my neighbor decided it would be a good idea to get a new one almost immediately thereafter.
There is no possible explanation for this other than that she is just trying to spite me. She can't possibly think this pool experiment is going to work out better than the last one. This is like watching your friend leave an abusive relationship only to immediately start dating a guy named "Ox." It's just not going to end well, every else in the world knows it, but there's just nothing you can do.
Oh well. I enjoyed those three months of sleep.
There is one silver lining, though: in an apparent effort to "class up" the pool, she has this time installed a tiki torch at each corner. So at least this summer, when the pool inevitably turns brown and the frogs come back, I can creatively use those same torches to solve the problem.
Wait, did I say that out loud?
In the worst possible way.
My first real blog post was about how my evil neighbor had an above ground pool they never cleaned, the ear-splittingly loud frogs that it attracted, and the desperate lengths to which I had to resort to rid myself of the problem. Finally.
Until this week.
You see, the Health Department might have made my neighbor get rid of their old disgustingly brown pool, but they didn't tell her she couldn't get a new, slightly larger one to replace it! So that is exactly what she did while I was out of town last week (hardly a coincidence, I'm sure).
I came home to a new above-ground pool in my neighbor's back yard that's of such high quality that it's not only been patched once already in its 3 days of existence, the patch itself has subsequently been patched with duct tape. At this rate, it's only a matter of time until she ends up patching the duct tape with bubble gum.
Yes, for some reason, after failing to take care of her pool for the past 2 years, to the point where the Health Department, on its fourth visit, made her take action, my neighbor decided it would be a good idea to get a new one almost immediately thereafter.
There is no possible explanation for this other than that she is just trying to spite me. She can't possibly think this pool experiment is going to work out better than the last one. This is like watching your friend leave an abusive relationship only to immediately start dating a guy named "Ox." It's just not going to end well, every else in the world knows it, but there's just nothing you can do.
Oh well. I enjoyed those three months of sleep.
There is one silver lining, though: in an apparent effort to "class up" the pool, she has this time installed a tiki torch at each corner. So at least this summer, when the pool inevitably turns brown and the frogs come back, I can creatively use those same torches to solve the problem.
Wait, did I say that out loud?
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
The day after...
I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. I like the 4th of July not purely out of patriotic spirit (the calendar date of July 4 is actually rather meaningless in our country's history anyway. Had we lost the Revolutionary War that followed, the signing of Declaration of Independence on that date wouldn't have mattered), but because unlike every other warm-weather holiday, more often that not, it doesn't fall on a Monday.
I don't understand America's fascination with Monday holidays. I enjoy three day weekends, but wouldn't it make much more sense if the holiday celebration was followed by two days off rather than saving the holiday for the last day of the weekend? Wouldn't Memorial Day cookouts be more festive if everyone didn't have to be at work the next morning?
I don't get it. If we are going to artificially move holidays around to make for 3-day weekends, it would make more sense to move the holidays to Fridays.
But no one asked me.
Anyway, I enjoy July 4 because generally one can enjoy the festivities without having a return to work in the morning lingering in the back of one's head. But now the holiday has come and gone and now everyone goes back to work and starts counting down the hot summer days until another 3-day weekend in 2 months (Who was it that decided it is acceptable to go 2 months in the summer without a holiday?).
I have a whole lot of stories to share from the past week or two, but I hope you'll forgive me, I just want to squeeze in one more lazy afternoon before I get to all that. So faced with the choice of serious blogging right now or going for ice cream, well, let's just say I'll see you tomorrow...
I don't understand America's fascination with Monday holidays. I enjoy three day weekends, but wouldn't it make much more sense if the holiday celebration was followed by two days off rather than saving the holiday for the last day of the weekend? Wouldn't Memorial Day cookouts be more festive if everyone didn't have to be at work the next morning?
I don't get it. If we are going to artificially move holidays around to make for 3-day weekends, it would make more sense to move the holidays to Fridays.
But no one asked me.
Anyway, I enjoy July 4 because generally one can enjoy the festivities without having a return to work in the morning lingering in the back of one's head. But now the holiday has come and gone and now everyone goes back to work and starts counting down the hot summer days until another 3-day weekend in 2 months (Who was it that decided it is acceptable to go 2 months in the summer without a holiday?).
I have a whole lot of stories to share from the past week or two, but I hope you'll forgive me, I just want to squeeze in one more lazy afternoon before I get to all that. So faced with the choice of serious blogging right now or going for ice cream, well, let's just say I'll see you tomorrow...
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
99 Degrees
Summer officially started yesterday, and I'm sick of it already.
The blog title above doubles as today's forecast. And yesterday's forecast. And tomorrow's and probably every day after that, unless we finally break the triple digit mark we've been lingering just under. It's hot outside. While I was sleeping one day last month, someone apparently moved Nashville to the surface of the sun.
I'm a wimp when it comes to any temperature lower than 61 or higher than 79, but by any measure, summer heat is a bigger nuisance than winter cold. Walking through the cold in the morning is miserable, but once you get to the office and turn the heater on, you can pretty much go about your day as normal. Ten minutes later, the fact that you were cold earlier in the day is long forgotten.
Not so in summer. Once you sweat through your clothes on the morning walk, you're stuck with that sticky feeling all day, counting the hours until the next available shower. And it gets progressively worse with each trip outside the office all day, until you actively fear the impact getting on an elevator containing anyone else might have on your professional reputation. Also, it's easy to dress for winter, as one can always add extra layers. But employers, and the general public, tend to look at you disapprovingly if you do the inverse in summer. You just can't go to work in your underpants.
Trust me. I've tried.
But I was definitely not working in my underpants yesterday. I only have to appear in court once every two or three months, but yesterday, on the hottest day of the year, I had to be at the federal courthouse at 1:20 in the afternoon. As fate would have it, the federal courthouse is located half a mile on the exact opposite side of downtown from my office, which happens to be half a mile in the opposite direction from my parking lot. So faced with the options of walking half a mile to drive to court, or just walking half a mile to court, I doused myself with water(in part to clear a stain from a morning iced coffee, and in part to avoid spontaneous combustion) and starting walking toward the courthouse, sporting a full sweat-covered suit.
As I walked, snappily dressed, through the shadeless, heat-absorbing asphalt valley that is downtown Nashville, more than one homeless fellow approached me with the initial aim of requesting financial assistance, only to turn away when they got close enough to get a whiff of me and decide that whatever might be in my wallet wasn't worth having to stand close enough to me to ask for it. And truthfully, I can't say that I blame them.
I finally made it there and made a somewhat futile attempt to refresh myself. After 2hours of court (which tends to leave me tired, sweaty and thirsty by itself), I had to walk back. Since I was excused from the office for the day because of court anyway, my plan was to walk to the car and go home directly after court.
I couldn't make it. I changed plans midstream and actually chose to voluntarily go back to work for 2 hours just to get a break from the heat and finish that diet coke I had started earlier in the day that sat in the refrigerator. Drenched, I managed to make it back to the office and then come up with a clever excuse to wait on the next elevator to my office rather than step into the crowded one waiting as I entered the building.
I survived. But when it's so hot I'd rather be working than walking towards the car that will take me home, it's just too hot.
And it isn't getting better anytime soon.
The blog title above doubles as today's forecast. And yesterday's forecast. And tomorrow's and probably every day after that, unless we finally break the triple digit mark we've been lingering just under. It's hot outside. While I was sleeping one day last month, someone apparently moved Nashville to the surface of the sun.
I'm a wimp when it comes to any temperature lower than 61 or higher than 79, but by any measure, summer heat is a bigger nuisance than winter cold. Walking through the cold in the morning is miserable, but once you get to the office and turn the heater on, you can pretty much go about your day as normal. Ten minutes later, the fact that you were cold earlier in the day is long forgotten.
Not so in summer. Once you sweat through your clothes on the morning walk, you're stuck with that sticky feeling all day, counting the hours until the next available shower. And it gets progressively worse with each trip outside the office all day, until you actively fear the impact getting on an elevator containing anyone else might have on your professional reputation. Also, it's easy to dress for winter, as one can always add extra layers. But employers, and the general public, tend to look at you disapprovingly if you do the inverse in summer. You just can't go to work in your underpants.
Trust me. I've tried.
But I was definitely not working in my underpants yesterday. I only have to appear in court once every two or three months, but yesterday, on the hottest day of the year, I had to be at the federal courthouse at 1:20 in the afternoon. As fate would have it, the federal courthouse is located half a mile on the exact opposite side of downtown from my office, which happens to be half a mile in the opposite direction from my parking lot. So faced with the options of walking half a mile to drive to court, or just walking half a mile to court, I doused myself with water(in part to clear a stain from a morning iced coffee, and in part to avoid spontaneous combustion) and starting walking toward the courthouse, sporting a full sweat-covered suit.
As I walked, snappily dressed, through the shadeless, heat-absorbing asphalt valley that is downtown Nashville, more than one homeless fellow approached me with the initial aim of requesting financial assistance, only to turn away when they got close enough to get a whiff of me and decide that whatever might be in my wallet wasn't worth having to stand close enough to me to ask for it. And truthfully, I can't say that I blame them.
I finally made it there and made a somewhat futile attempt to refresh myself. After 2hours of court (which tends to leave me tired, sweaty and thirsty by itself), I had to walk back. Since I was excused from the office for the day because of court anyway, my plan was to walk to the car and go home directly after court.
I couldn't make it. I changed plans midstream and actually chose to voluntarily go back to work for 2 hours just to get a break from the heat and finish that diet coke I had started earlier in the day that sat in the refrigerator. Drenched, I managed to make it back to the office and then come up with a clever excuse to wait on the next elevator to my office rather than step into the crowded one waiting as I entered the building.
I survived. But when it's so hot I'd rather be working than walking towards the car that will take me home, it's just too hot.
And it isn't getting better anytime soon.
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