Month: April 2005 (Page 4 of 4)

You can shop, you can buuuuuy, having the time of your life (oooo oooo oooo)
Techno-girl, has everything, Jen is the gadget queen…….

But I don’t have everything, I DON’T! I want an Oompa Loompa NOOOOOW. I am going to have to start stomping my foot. It fits my personality far too well, and I do often put my hands on my hips.

I love gadgets. Technology. Gizmos. Jump Drives. Digital anythings. Plasma TVs. iPods. I do not OWN a plamsa tv, iPod, high-end digital camera, or even a phone that takes pictures. I will be upgrading from my Clie’ organizer because my software will not integrate with the newer Office at my job, and I CAN’T give up my Clie’ lifestyle, plus I can justify upgrading anything after two years. Let me tell you, I can still drive better than everyone else, even when I’m looking up a number in my Clie’ to dial on my cell phone, all on the highway. Mmmhmmm. Fear me now or slap me lay-tah. (Seriously, I only do that like, twice a year. Honest.) But if I could, I would have every single high-end technological advancement known to humankind. A roombah would vacuum our floors, while the mowbah or whatever it’s mowing equivalent is called, would mow our lawn. Everything would have Bluetooth technology, despite my only vague understanding of it, however, it seems important to wireless things, and of course, everything would be wireless. We’d have laptops downstairs, and I’d also have that damned under-counter radio/cd player/television screen gizmo that costs $400. Because I NEEDS to watch TV while I prepare a meal. MMhhmm! And we’d have more DVR boxes around the house, for convenience & ability to tape, tape, tape – more, more, more. And a tempurpedic adjustable mattress. And a MiniCooper, even though I really doubt I’ve even fit into one. They’re just so damned CUTE.

I love my jump drive. I feel very spy-like with it, because it’s tiny & plugs in to any computer and can hold volumes of documents. Of course, I only have the 128 meg, and there’s one that’s all 564 or something, like more than some computers, so much memory. There’s just always another level of inspiration out there. JWo thinks it’s unnecessary and borderline insane, but I come by it fair & square – after all, my father loves the gadgets as much as the next bloke, and he always insisted on the best gadgets for himself.

MMMMM. gadgets. technology. oompa loompas. my friends.

We like to say “Dammit James” and “Dammit Jen” around our house, usually about ourselves, but often to chime in as support (really!) when something’s fouled up or gone awry. Though sometimes, a true “Dammit JAMES!” is warranted.

The other night, the same James in question insisted on going to a certain website with a whole little soundtrack, and his speakers were on FULL BLAST. I, being a very busy person this week, was trying to finish a project for a friend of mine and was WORKING diligently and did not welcome the extremely annoying interruption. This is behavior I deem “Fifth Grade Mode”, when he not only does it once, and gets a negative reaction, but then continues to do it to get my goat.

What really blows is that the sound on this little cartoon film is an EARWORM from hell. You can check it out here if you have speakers and a brave spirit. Because two nights ago, I found myself going BACK to the website just to get my earworm fix. It’s insane. I don’t understand it, it makes no sense, and yet – yet – yet? It’s kinda funny. If you’re not trying to do real work. And that’s what Fridays are ALL ABOUT. So Dammit Jen, I just gave y’all distraction and mayhem. Enjoy.

When I went to college, I had many, many campus jobs. The first one was foodservice, and I still remember that first day. I still remember what was served, too: chili, grilled cheese & french fries. My best friend, Rebs, and I worked TBD. Tray Break Down. The nittiest-grittiest job, because it meant taking all the dishes, emptying them & stacking them for the dishwasher. Rebs & I had never done anything like this before, and so we emptied and emptied and emptied and then at the end of our shift, the supervisor told us to empty the garbage can. Uh. Hm. OK. It’s like, 50 gallons? and it’s FULL? We had to do it. I still remember her face. Trying not to laugh, shaking her head, as we wrestled this enormous bag of chili and french fries and napkins out of the trash can and out to the garbage. Good god. It was a bitch. Apparently you’re supposed to empty it when it’s only a THIRD full. Ah! Yes! Grasshopper learn quickly! I have so many funny work stories, I could do ten entries just on food service. Like how I was raised in a house that never, ever saw a frozen waffle, so on Sunday brunch when they told me it was my job to make the waffles, I completely flipped out, on the inside, and bravely said, “Ok. Where’s the waffle iron?” Because I’d only ever had batter-made, waffle-iron toasted waffles in my entire life. So feeding half the campus – 600 students – waffles I was gonna have to make by hand – well, you can see why I got a little stressed. Lo and behold, they had this giant rotating toaster and you could load that sucker with 15 waffles faster than you could make one at home. Whew!
So there’s a whole mother lode of funny stories, just in my college jobs. But I was reading Bekah’s blog, and she was referencing smart-alecky kids and how to deal with them, and I remembered one of my MOST favorite college job stories.

I worked in the library. Yes, Zee Loudest Girl In Zee Vorld, spent two years workin’ in the library. We had some goooooood times at the ol’ library, I must say. Then there was the librarian who became obsessed with me and got rather stalker-ish, but hey, every rose has its thorns, hm? I digress. So I also stayed on campus and worked summers, the first summer being between sophomore & junior year, in the library. And because there weren’t many students around, the town kids would ride their bikes on all the sidewalks on campus, and they loved the big ramp up to the front entrance of the library. They also enjoyed opening the book drop, sticking their heads up next to it and SCREAMING, YODELING, and otherwise being a royal nuisance. I still remember my supervisor Sheri going out and yelling at them as they pedalled off on their bikes, whooping with their succesful escapade.

And then, one brilliant, bright summer day, it all came to a screeching halt.
Because, I was back by the book drop when they pedalled up, and they did their little schtick of opening the book drop, pushing their arms through (waving their little 10-year-old hands) and SCREAMING at the top of their lungs. That very same SCREAMING that came to a vacuum-esque halt as I reached down and GRABBED their little wrists, keeping them trapped up against the outside of the building. In my deepest, sternest voice, I BOOMED, “KNOCK IT OFF.” And then the air rushed back into their lungs, and they started a high-pitched, panicked squeal, sure that I stood there with a giant rusty machete, each about to lose an arm at the hands of the black-hooded executioner/librarian. I let go, but I’d had them trapped for about 45 seconds. When I walked around to the front door, I saw them tearing off, never to return.

Sheri & I had one of those makes-your-body-weak laughs. She was such a great boss. I suppose now, we couldn’t do something like that, for fear of a lawsuit or the outraged parent, berating us for the audacity to reprimand/touch a child that wasn’t your own. But at the time, I could freely scare the living bejeezus out of 10 year olds, much to my own amusement. And, hopefully, now yours!

Over the weekend, I was in a cold-induced stupor. Today is the first FIRST day I have not felt like I have a cold. (Let me tell you, starting a new job with a head cold is a challenging thing to do!)
So we use an e-collar on the dogs to reinforce good behavior. What that means is, if you are Polly, and I call you to come HERE, and you choose to ignore me, I press a button and you can make the discomfort stop by DOING WHAT I TOLD YOU TO DO. It’s a good thing these aren’t licensed for use in the workplace. Anyway. You have to take the remote and press its little sensor node to the recessed sensor spot on the collar to activate them. I usually then hit the “page” button, which doesn’t actually send a shock, it just vibrates it, like a pager buzzes. That way I know there’s enough juice to send a message – if I have to.
Like I said in a way-earlier blog, we usually have this thing set on “20” (out of 100) and James & I even put it on our hands to feel it so we knew what it was like. It reminds me of getting a very muted electrical shock, like from a lamp I had as a kid that the wiring was going out on – just enough to feel weird, not enough to make you go WHOA.
You see where this is going, don’t you, dear reader?

The e-collar was on the counter in the bathroom. I had just woken up from a dead-to-the-world-I’m-sick Four Hour Nap. I picked it up, activated it, and then tested it to see if was juiced. Uh yeah. Instead of hitting PAGE, I hit the SHOCK button, and immediately flung the collar across the counter. I am surprised I didn’t break the mirror. I exchanged a very shocked look with myself in the mirror. Loads of wide-eyed blinking. Astonishment, really. I didn’t understand what I’d done for a couple of seconds. It hit me, of course, I’d hit the wrong button, and then, I looked at the remote and saw that the level? It had gotten bumped to 40. My hand tingled for probably 10 minutes afterwards! The funny thing is, on “20”, Polly responds, but if she wants to race after a cat or a bunny, we have to move it up to “30-40”. Suzy, on the other hand, caterwauls at “20” as though she is slowly being killed with acupuncture needles and lemon juice. It’s only happened once, in a hunting situation, and I guess it was a sight to behold – especially since she is such a toughie and can be SO STUBBORN, like when I’m dragging her by the collar, which can’t be comfortable, and I’ve even swatted her butt – which I can tell you now, FROM EXPERIENCE, is nothing like the pain of the e-collar.

Especially on “40”.

True Confession. I am a child of the 80’s, and therefore, I DO love soft rock the way YOU love soft rock, just like the commercial said. Not enough to ever listen to for an hour, but when a good fist-clenchin’ ballad comes along (not Michael Bolton), like “Here and Now”, by Luther Vandross? I get all soft-serve inside.

I’m totally diggin’ the digital cable channel “VH1 Classic”, despite my resistance to being labeled “Classic”. I’m sure I’ll really enjoy labels when Duran Duran is played under the header “Music of Our Lives” ….. sheesh……

OK, and what’s up with Eric Roberts in both the Killer’s video & the new Mariah Carey video? I thought I was going crazy when I spied him in the second one…. Eric Roberts is IN my TV and stalking me. Alert the dogs! BURF!

New Job Update: Going well, the people are awesome, but of course it’s a bit overwhelming at first. There’s loads of stuff to do, and there’s a huge need to get some structure & systems going. I just need to remind myself I can’t do it all in one day. :) One day down, 364 to go, right? :) And I’m trying to actually be on time for this job so that means I should skedaddle & get dressed…….I need a chauffeur, so I can do stuff on my drive! I knew there was something I forgot to negotiate…..

There’s nothing like finishing a wool sweater as Spring/Summer approaches. Sigh. However, the sense of accomplishment is still HUGE. The pattern for this wonderful sweater is here at Knitty.com.

Retrospective notes about this sweater? I made it a little big, thinking I’d wear it more like a coat. I would have made the sleeves a little shorter, remembered to put in bust darts, and I would have experimented with the collar – perhaps instead of the shawl collar, a polo-esque collar that would have fallen a bit lower & spread out more across the sweater, but that’s just me thinkin’ after the fact. Not that it’s too late to re-do that part, if I decide to – but right now I’m content to be DONE.

Overall, it’s going to be a warm, cozy sweater that fits, has unmatched style, and is a major knitting accomplishment for me. A friend from the guild looked at my sweater & immediately said she’d never wear all those flowers around her neck, and of course I replied, “Good thing I didn’t make this for you, then!”

I’ve never lacked chutzpah, despite not being Jewish – and it’s probably why I wanted to make this sweater in the first place. So I present, the Folly Fotos:

Here I am, in front of the Yarn Shop, modeling my FINISHED FOLLY! I made it out of Peruvian Highland Wool, from elann.com. I finished this Saturday night & brought it over to model, despite the non-chilly weather. 

And I look so squinty and awkward because it is EIGHTY DEGREES and bright sunshine. Hello, Summer. Meet Folly! Folly, Say Goodbye! 

Closeup of sleeve ruffle & flower button; more flowers. 

Dogs do not understand TV. They hear a doorbell, a phone ring, or – god help us – a dog barking, and it’s all HERE AND NOW by Lionel Ritchie and we are in the MOMENT and we are REACTING and there is turf that needs defending. I had the misfortune of having the television on as background noise while I was on the computer last night, and “Cradle 2 the Grave” was on, high-quality stuff, folks. DMX, Jet Li & Tom Arnold, seriously – how could one go wrong? Anyway, I’m really not watching it because we tried to watch it before and couldn’t – and that makes it good background tv, I don’t even feel compelled to watch, really. But heaven help us all, there’s some scene with some pissed-off Dobermans, and that got Suzy & Polly ALL kinds of riled up. Heads up, ears up, alarm barking/burfing, respectively. I kept saying “TEE VEE” “IT’S OK” to them but they don’t know what the hell TEE VEE is, they just know they’re hearing dogs barking and it sounds like something we need to be worried about! We were on Orange Alert for half an hour as a result. Plus, when James is gone, I think Suzy gets more protective. Or else that’s wishful thinking on my part, but she does have that guard dog in her.

This morning, I thought I was getting up at the Crack of Dawn, only to be disillusioned by the cable box, which is smart enough to understand Daylight Savings Time. Anyway, I let the dogs out the back, they did their thang, and then we went back through the house to the front door & I let Polly out to get the paper. Polly, as a lab, loves to retrieve, almost more so than Suzy. She’s more competitive, I think. (Hm. Where’d she learn THAT?) She Love Love LOVES to get the paper in the morning. So off she went. Suddenly, Suzy broke & ran out to try to get the paper as well, because the Sunday paper is big, and it’s harder for li’l P to get it in her mouth. We had a Retriever Standoff over the paper, and it’s hard to command authority when you’re laughing as hard as I was. Suzy wouldn’t come, Polly was lookin’ all Rhodesian Ridgeback, with her ruff up from her neck to her butt, and then? Suzy trotted off! Polly won! I was amazed.

The funniest thing we’ve had Polly retrieve have been the plastic pots that blew away from the side of the garage all over the front yard. They’re easy to pick up – but they obstruct her vision once they’re in her mouth. So she does this drunken-weave dance as she comes back to you, trying to see where she’s going, bobbing her head all over the place and from side to side. It doesn’t quite make sense in her brain, that as long as she has it firmly in her mouth, no matter where she moves her head, she still will have a big round blind spot – but the desire to bring it back is far stronger than the disconnect, and she does it with such enthusiasm, it’s touching and hilarious all at once.

On the non-dog front: My cold’s getting a little better – god, I would love to have this week off as well, but I’m also really charged up about starting my new job. A little knitting tease – there’s a finished sweater in the House o’ Jen! I’m so glad it’s done. I can’t say I love it to the moon at this point, but it’s still pretty fun & it will probably look better if I put it on over real clothes, and not pajamas. Yes, I’m talking about the FOLLY. I will get a picture up in the next day or two – because I think I might be the first person in the universe besides the designer, to actually finish this sweater. I’m gonna act like I am, anyway. This calls for a tiara! And I’m still planning on wearing this sweater, even if it’s just in Abbey’s basement with the a/c on full blast – Kim’s gonna wear her wool sweater, and Abbey will wear her wool Einstein, and we’ll pretend it’s December and snowing outside. Delusions and grandeur go together like pie & ice cream! Mmmmm. pie.

Take care, I-peeps. :)

AFTER all – and didn’t you want THAT particular earworm to haunt you, all weekend long? Don’t worry. Just whistle that song from the Scorpions and you’ll be ok.

I went in to my new employer yesterday, and apparently they wouldn’t let anyone have a beer before I got there. So my arrival was extremely welcomed, through bribery & alcohol. No problem there! And everyone was SO CHEERFUL. People came streaming up and saying how excited they were and welcoming me, I almost caught myself looking over my shoulder. Surely you are confusing me with someone far more interesting just behind me? And are these people really happy? Really? Fo’ Real? It hit me after I left, what I’ve stumbled away from and while it wasn’t healthy or productive or positive, it felt SAFE. Sort of like learning to sleep on a bed of nails, I guess, you feel strange if you’re not being steadily prodded by sharp points, once you’re used to it. Anyway. When I first got there, and rounded the corner – there was my friend Sean. SEAN! Hey! (Not to be confused with BatKiller Shawn. He’s out of state & out of touch.) Sean used to work with me, and right at the time I was going through my shake up/fall from grace, Sean started a group that met at lunch and worked on drawing your life/basically exploring your own goals and realizing your dreams, whether they are personal or professional. You can see his self-published book here. If you live in KC, I can save you shipping. :) Because Sean works with me, again! It was just great to see a familiar face, and took some of my own nervousness away, meeting all sorts of new people & knowing I’d never remember their names. I also have a wicked head cold, which made evvvvvverything a little muffled, like wrapping a drum in a towel. Because of course, as I have a few days off & I start to relax, that means the bugs & nasties aren’t held at bay anymore & they have seized the opportunity to pounce.

I’m grateful and excited and a smidge nervous. (“Coffee makes me a might nervous when I drink it, mmmhmmmmm.”) I used to move, and change jobs, what felt like all the time. I got out of the habit, and now I have to go through the learning process again, re-mold, adapt, remember that some of it is new again & my new job will have loads more “goin’ on”. Hell, I never completely mastered the phones at my last job! (They were straight out of 1984. Orwell himself wouldn’t have bothered, either.) So here’s to a new chapter in the Book O’ Jen. I have no idea how many pages there will be, or how dramatically it will read, but I’m looking forward to living it.

First, a happy b’day shout to Becky in Hawaii, and my knittin’ bud Carol in St.Louis, even though I don’t think she reads my blog. Just in case. What an awesome day to have as a birthday! Also, I installed haloscan for commenting. For now. I still threaten to go to typepad & if I figure out how to transfer all my blogger files, I still may do it. Blasted Blogger. Again, I digress.

I love jokes and pranks, especially the elaborate ones. However, having concocted a number of them myself, I’ll admit: it makes you paranoid. For instance, I’m going in to my new place of employment today for a meet-n-greet (they’re apparently gonna be drinking beer, so it’s not exactly formal), and I have this teensy-weensy-back-of-the-brain fear that the entire job offer is gonna be one big prank. Probably because that whole process happened so fast – I’ve never sent in a resume, been called to interview immediately, interviewed, and had an offer from start to finish in 10 days. And probably because I’m F-ING PARANOID. My last job did a number on me, with the feeling of having to cover one’s ass CONSTANTLY to justify any minor twitch or bump. So not how to live, but it also evolved over time, because I was a “star” when I started, one of the golden children – but I had no clue! I just thought everything was awesome blossom, and I had come from the job with the crazy pantyhose lady. Hell, at that time, Leona Helmsley woulda seemed like a sharp, astute, somewhat demanding, yes, but a great boss, comparatively. But as I would learn, every star has its fall, sadly, and when I fell, another rose, and I couldn’t believe it was true, but in time, her star also fell. Sigh. No sense in belaboring that cycle – I’m out!

So, my friends, I will give you one of the greatest pranks I’ve ever pulled. It was at the former employer, and my god, did it blow up in my face, and everyone else who helped pull it off. But DAMN it was funny. And to his credit, the president/owner of the company thought it was HILA-rious & later said that if people didn’t like the joke, then fuck ’em. Direct quote.

The Elaborate Parking Space Prank.
Background: Corporate office building, 16 stories tall. Parking garage (free parking), three stories underground, three stories above ground. Spaces are not universally painted, so some are narrow, some are wide. People tend to park in the same spots, perhaps it’s the territorial-nature of human beings, perhaps it’s just habit. Multiple businesses in building, our company was the largest single entity.

I was on a committee that worked primarily on public relations/events. We also wanted to liven up things around the joint. One afternoon, we brainstormed & came up with the April Fool’s joke, to convince everyone that we were moving to assigned parking spaces, and to make everyone go through some silly ritual to get their space. At first, we were going to hire a guy to come in with a clipboard, and have people park in the space they wanted with their blinkers on, to wait for the clipboard guy to note their license plate. What we finally arrived at, was to have people park in the space they wanted, put their business card under their wiper blade, and it would be collected & noted by 10 a.m.

We went for convincing. Really, it’s my specialty. Make it so real, employ others with authority, and all you have to do is sit back and wait for the bite. We had the building manager & our director of operations in on it. A voicemail and email went out to the agency, telling people that the spaces were going to be repainted over the upcoming weekend, and spaces would be numbered. As the largest tenant in the building, we were given first shot at choosing the space we wanted. You had to have your car parked in the spot you wanted by 9:15 the next morning (April 1). This announcement went out around 2 in the afternoon, March 31.

One hour later, the joint was ON FIRE. The creative department had started a petition against this new policy, stating that assigned parking restricted them too much, they wanted their GOD GIVEN FREEDOM to park wherever they wanted given the weather and how they felt. (Let’s be honest: that department never got to work on time, and they were pissed about having to get in that early.) People were moving their cars that afternoon, to leave them overnight – getting rides home with other people. People who’d worked there a long time were pissed because they had always wanted reserved spots & now it was a free-for-all and some pipsqueak who hadn’t put in their time might end up with a better spot than them. HR and Operations were getting deluged, and thankfully, our operations person had left for the day. It was melee. Over a PARKING SPACE. Shortly before 5 that same day, we pulled the plug – but it was too late for some people, having left early, etc., so they arrived the next day, put their cards on their windshields & came in to discover that it was all a big hoax. One manager made a huge deal about how one of her employees came in early that day, leaving her DYING MOTHER’S BEDSIDE so she could get the parking spot. Some people are STILL mad about it, 3 years later.

I can only say this. If a parking spot takes priority over your dying mother? Then things are seriously wrong. Bewildered by the abject anger and fury that boiled out over this, I was talking to a girlfriend who used to work with me. She pointed out that, in an environment that is run by so much favoritism, we’d given people the opportunity to compete on a level playing field. Everyone had an equal shot at getting the parking space they wanted, and it hit nerves like crazy. I just kept shaking my head & saying, “But – But – it’s just a f-ing PARKING space!” She countered, “It doesn’t matter. They saw a chance to jockey for position and they had to take it.”

Double sigh. I have no pranks planned for the day, partly because I’ve got a cold & feel dragged down. Partly because I’ve played so many in my life, and some really got people wound up, beyond my wildest predictions (case in point!) My husband already got me this morning, by installing some sorta “mouse droppings” thing so every time I moved my cursor I got a black rectangle that appeared on my screen. Honestly, I thought I needed to re-boot, that my memory was getting low & the computer was acting up. He called an hour ago and told me how to fix it – it was harmless, I laughed, he laughed – nobody got hurt. The point is to laugh. Laughing is good for you. If you have so much anger and fear inside of you, that you can’t laugh? Then I suggest a good therapist or a job change, or something significant to get rid of that negativity. I’d love to know about other people’s pranks, too. Give me some ideas for next year…… :)