Words from the Contra-dictator

Words from the Contra-dictator
Bush Quote regarding stem cell research:
"I've made it very clear to the Congress that the use of federal money, taxpayers' money, to promote science which destroys life in order to save life- I'm against that."
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Cost of Iraq War ("War on Terror") to date: $179 billion plus
for current total see: www.costofwar.com
Casualties to-date:
American 1728/ Iraq 22,434 - 25,426 / Other troops: 187
current: http://www.antiwar.com/casualties/

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Office Needs Nanny Jo

I can’t tell you the number of times in working in corporate America that I have been instantly transported back to memories of being on the playground where there are bullies, and sissies, and brats, mingling among those of us who are just there to have fun and play nice. An episode yesterday left me laughing so I hard I was nearly crying.

A grown woman (we’re talking late 40s here), who had taken it upon herself to decorate our office (mostly my area) with Fourth of July holiday bows of obnoxious proportions was finally asked to take them down. The office President has had enough of them. They have been up since two weeks before Memorial Day, staring us all in the face with enough red, white, and blue enthusiasm to leave a person nauseous. So, yesterday, the President decided to take the liberty of saving us from another second of in-your-face fanatical, patriotism by taking down the bows. He left the flags, mind you- the small flags that have been placed in our plant pots in the reception area- but he said the bows had to go. I knew this would cause mucho panty bunching with the office ‘decorator’ who resides in accounting, but what could I do? It was an ‘executive’ decision, after all.

A little history here: this woman decorates for every holiday and does so as if she is Martha Stewart on crack. For example: in our office, Halloween begins in September and there are animated characters that sing, talk and play the organ, enough orange and black decor to decorate an entire elementary school and even a taxidermied black crow. Needless to say, we've all secretly harbored resentment about it, but nothing was done until this moment.

Anyhow, back to the story: It didn’t take long for her to notice. From behind, the high-pitched nasal voice inquired, “Oh, did my bows fall down?” She picked them up ready to re-affix to their prior locations with haste.

Oh God, I pleaded, please save me from what is about to transpire.

“Um…no” I replied very calmly, “Actually (president’s name) took them down. He said he thought they’d been up long enough and decided to take them down. He doesn’t think we need to have this stuff up except maybe on the Fourth.” Shit. I probably shouldn’t have said it that way. The Pres had mentioned that as a joke because we’re closed on the Fourth.

The woman’s face turned red. Had she been a cartoon, her ears might have emitted steam. Red-faced, teary-eyed, nostrils flaring, she swiped up the bows and jumped to collect the flags. In an attempt to ease some of the blow I told her, “Oh, he didn’t say anything about the flags. I think it’s fine to leave those.”

She continued. “It doesn’t matter,” she snorted, “It’s a package deal.” And then she frantically went around collecting every decorating contribution she had made to the reception area and naming them as she confiscated them. “I’m taking my flags and I’m taking my spring orbs and I’m taking my basket and I’m taking my suckers!”

“Wow. You’re really gonna show him.” I responded, restraining any response other than a calm, collected manner.

By suckers, she meant the dum dums that she had so generously donated to the office that people have been grabbing every time they pass my desk. They have been very popular in the past few weeks, people fighting for their favorite flavors and talking with white sticks hanging out of their mouths. Yes, by taking away the suckers, she was showing us all that those who don’t appreciate her efforts were not deserving of a candy treat.

She then went back to her desk and collected her stuff for the night. She darted past my desk with large flags waving from behind her back pack.

I shot an email to the President “Just so ya know, the dum dums have been withdrawn in protest.”

“What?” he responded. (We use email here as if it’s an IM service)

Soon he emerged from his office and came over to my desk to assess the situation. I explained what happened and he cracked up and I cracked up and not too long after, we discovered that all of the dum dums had been thrown in the trash. Yes. Better they go to the garbage than to undeserving wretches such as ourselves.

BTW- You bet we fished those suckers out! Hey, it’s not as gross as it sounds. They were still in their protective wrappers.

Super Nanny Jo Frost, we need you!!!

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Make People Smile With Just ONE Word

One of the best discoveries I made in college was that of a magical word. A word that, when spoken, is so magical that it can work like a pill to rid the atmosphere of all that is serious in nature and context and to bring smiles (perhaps even laughter) to everyone within earshot. I believe it to even possess healing properties.

The revelation came to me in a moment of desperation. I was trying to console a sad girl, Audrey, in my Male/Female Relationships J-Term class when we realized that we were the only two people not attached to anyone, as most people took the class as couples. We both had to take a J-term class for credit. For me, it was my very last graduating credit (and third required J-term course) and I had a very limited choice on which J-term classes I could take and might want to take. My preference was a class that got to travel somewhere for January, which many people did, however, I didn’t have the extra funds necessary for such an educational excursion at the time. I had only a few classes to choose from, and of those, this one seemed the most…palatable. It was an interesting class, though I don’t think I learned anything (but hey, at least passing a class on Male/Female Relationships with an ‘A’ looks good on my dating resume, eh?)
Anyhow, I was trying to console Audrey and we decided to brainstorm on funny things that would cheer her up. It was then that I turned to her and with one word made everything alright again. It was during this brainstorm that I discovered the magic of the word “Menudo.” Since then, I’ve found that no matter where you are or who you are talking with (as long as they are old enough to be familiar with the reference), you can use this word to make people smile. After all, there’s nothing like the name of a 1980s latin, boy band to lighten the mood.

Let’s say it together, slowly: Men-u-do

Let it roll around on the tongue…one more time…and again...for me, it never gets old. In fact, try to not smile either while speaking it or for moments after saying it. It's hard isn't it? You can't help yourself!

There, now don’t you feel happier?

Use it as you will...my gift to you. :)

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Jesus of the Week

This site cracks me up everytime...Check it out:

http://www.jesusoftheweek.com

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Beyond Babies

So, my friends Julie and Adam have recently adopted a newborn son, the arrival of which has been anticipated for many years. I can’t help but be excited for a child that has been welcomed into such a loving home and has been so wanted for so many years before being brought into the world. It is very touching to have followed the whole process.

Anyhow, there is a shower for Julie this Saturday, and I last night I made a trek out to a store called Babies R Us to retrieve a registry item to bring for the shower. Now, I have been in these types of stores on a few occasions due to the birth of my sister’s son and my brother’s daughter all within the last two years. So, maybe I’ve been to this type of store two other times. And each time I go I am totally confused about everything. I think, “This should be easy. I mean, I even used to BE an infant at one time in my life, so I should be able to figure this stuff out.” But I can’t help but feel like I’ve walked into the gift store of a zoo of exotic pets. Babies are truly exotic to me. They are interesting, sometimes even fascinating, and I love ‘em, but I feel as if they are a little beyond my realm of comprehension, in spite of being the young of my own species.
Most of the items on the registry list were already purchased, which was fabulous; the list of foreign objects was narrowed down to a mere few. And the item I decided to buy was a clear swing gate to put in a doorway. (I can say what I bought this because Julie and Adam, like most of my real life friends, are beyond sites like Friendster in the same way that I feel beyond babies.) While checking out, I had to resist the urge not to say “You don’t look like a baby to me?” to the Babies R Us cashier. I’m sure she’d want to serve me up a good knuckle sandwich for that one, so like I said, I resisted.

Also, as I was checking out, I was thinking that perhaps I was drawn to the gate over all the Baby Einstein videos and DVDs because of my association of babies with exotic pets. In fact, the baby on the box was pressed up against the clear plexiglass of the gate, smiling blissfully at a beautiful woman on the other side peering in at him. It very much resembled a photo from some indoor zoo terrarium.

Son-of-a-bitch it was, to wrap that gate. They have a free do-it-yourself wrapping statio
n to go to after you’ve made your purchase. I made it a game to try and wrap my large box faster and neater than the couple next to me who was having difficulties wrapping some kind of a child seat that looked like it was for the bathtub…geez…I don’t know...It wasn’t like the car kind. Anyway, they have the tape dispenser bolted to the table and it doesn’t even have the sharp edge so I had to cut each tape piece with scissors while strategically holding my pastel-paper-large-box-origami in place. The paper wasn’t even wide enough to cover the front, so I worked swiftly to diminish seams from multiple sheets and tidy the corner folds.
I won the race and the man of the couple unit applauded and stood in awe of my professional wrapping skills of such a large box all by myself. I must say, my mother trained me well in the wrapping arts.

I went to put the box in my car, where Mars (my baby) was in the back seat sniffing out the window, excited to see me return, tail wagging. He was notably disappointed when I told him the box he was sniffing wasn’t for him. It was then that I decided to make a trip to pick something up for my own baby, some chew treats he likes: retriever rolls and a Budda bone. He can be very particular, my large, four-legged, domestic kid, though less maintenance than the exotic ones.

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Aloha

Good bye is a sentiment awkward for many people to express, including myself. I think it can be as uncomfortable as I love you because, when spoken aloud, it memorializes a moment whether you intend to or not. It is being too aware of the present, too aware of the possibility of a last time. And no one I know likes to have a last time of anything that has had any positive significance in their life, even on a small scale. No, the idea of a last time has too fair a resemblance to death. You can even want the change to take place, but it’s still tough, the finality of it. So, it seems easier to just let things hang in the air like a possible someday…again or a next time instead of a last time moment.

Switching gears for a sec…when I was doing voiceover workshops, one interesting thing that was suggested was to never dwell on how not to say something. For instance, if you are directed to end a phrase in an upward inflection think "upward at the end" when speaking it. Do not think "don’t bring the phrase down, down bring the phase down, down bring the…" Why? Because guess what you will do? Bring the phrase down. This was true almost every time in recording sessions. So, it was key to focus on what you want to happen and not on what you don’t want to happen.

Now back to goodbyes… I feel I’ve met some people in life who are so emotionally distraught about trying to not have a bad goodbye, that they create the worst goodbye scenario ever.
Example 1: Romantic relationships: The guy (or girl, but for this example I’ll use a guy) wants out, but doesn’t want to be viewed as the bad guy who does the breaking up, so he becomes distant hoping it will become the girl’s idea and she will take the initiative. This doesn’t really work as well in practice, as may appear in theory. Yeah, the breakup will happen, but it will be longest, most drawn- out, emotional rollercoaster and the guy will end up appearing as el asshole notorious. Never fails.

Example 2: Friendships/Family. Someone is moving away, going to college, getting married, starting a new career, whatever… and the known relationship is starting to dissolve a bit for all practical purposes. One may think the best way to do this and not become emotionally affected by it is to find as many annoying things about the friend as possible, so the transition is an easy one. It’s always easier to leave someone you can’t stand to be with, eh? Suddenly every little thing becomes seed for drama that will make you feel good about the goodbye. Because drama is exactly what you were focused on avoiding.

I am trying to be better at goodbyes. I am trying to focus on the good of the change and not the things I will miss. I feel I am getting better, though I’m far from a master. And I think how lousy life is for those who never learn to say goodbye at all.

Change doesn’t have to be a bad thing. I hate saying goodbye and I hate unnecessary drama. However, I do like saying hello. So, my new word is Aloha, which means both and I’m letting the chips fall where they may.

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Which Seasame Muppet?

Okay. I took the quiz and I am most like Big Bird, for whatever it's worth. Apparently, I'm helpful and friendly.

http://powersugoi.net/quiz/ssm.php

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Road Rage

Road Rage. I don't have it, except perhaps for people that have it.

It's almost NEVER justified in my opinion. And is usually about losing between .5 seconds and 3 seconds of time off the drive to your destination. Which really is life or death isn't it? I mean, these moments of people cutting you off really could add up to being five minutes late for a job you hate anyways. You will probably get fired for it and not be able to pay your mortgage not to mention there goes your fivebucks latte fund. The stress of not knowing where your next paycheck will come from will give you the mother of all ulcers that keeps you home crying on weekends. Eventually your significant-other will become bored of your incessant rantings about the ulcer and inability to secure another job and will leave you for someone younger, better-looking, who also happens to be so much better in bed than you ever were and all of your friends are talking it up behind your back. In fact, they are no longer inviting you to their parties because they can't find any encouraging word to offer you and the awkward silences might cause people to leave before they are drunk enough to have any serious fun.

Alone, you will take up addictions to substances you only heard rumors of people putting in their bodies for recreational purposes. You will become addicted to these substances and your addictions will drive you to steal and perhaps even murder to get your next fix. You will be found guilty for theft and murder and after a long excruciating trial that drags your family's name so far through the mud that your poor mother's heart can't handle it. You are unable to attend your own mother's funeral because of your conviction and subsequent incarceration. Within a few days your body will be found in your cell, having been beaten to a bloody pulp by a 300-pound guy known among fellow inmates as 'Junior' who is in for killing a cop. He didn't like the way you looked at him last night before lights-out and now it's lights-out for you. Yes, it IS life or death. And all this, because of that bastard who cut you off.

So go ahead and honk. Honk really fucking loud and long so everybody in a three mile radius knows that you're the boss and nobody fucks with you.

Really, people...

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The Game of LIFE

I played LIFE, the boardgame, this Saturday. Hadn't done that in a long time, so I had kinda forgotten the rules. It was "The Simsons" edition, which as you can imagine, was so much like...life. I can't tell you how many times in my own life I have been invited to Itchy and Scratchy Land or my car is ruined by a runaway pig mascot or stolen by a snake or someone gets $20,000 for inventing the 'The Flaming Moe' or raising tomacco.

I decided I have a few problems with the game of Life. Apparently it is a rule that everyone has to get married early on in the game before you can proceed any further. It is unavoidable. I can understand the occasional 'accidental child' space, because I know that could actually happen to someone, but I do think there is a bias against single/unmarried people that every player has to add the spouse peg to the car and so early in the game. And the monetary compensation for jobs is outrageous. I was a cop and I was making $30,000 every payday and charging $10,000 for every speeding ticket (whenever another player spins a 10). And mine was the lowest salary of all the players. Now, I don't know about you, but in my real life I get paid every other Wednesday and if this were the kinda dough I was bringing in, I think I'd work for one month and then call it a year. Either that, Or I'd work a whole two years or so and then retire to academia or travel and write books.

In any case, I think this game will be misleading children for generations to come. Something should be done. Therapy and support groups may be necessary, except perhaps in Springfield.

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SPAM

I hate email spam, even if I don't have to see it because it is screened to a spam folder. I hate just knowing it's there. I can empty the spam folder and in one day accumulate upwards of 130 emails. ONE DAY!
Can you imagine how much faster computer online connections would be if these weren't clogging up the works? Better yet, if I actually bought all the pills people were spamming me about, can you imagine just HOW BIG my penis would be?
And don't get me started on pop-ups...

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My Kharma

My free Kharma reading (Astrology.com) revealed that I was really wealthy in my "prior lives."
What the hell good does that do me in this life...to know that? ...Sheesh.

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