A really long post in which I either prove my sanity or convince you all that I'm insane. But hopefully amusing.

Ask the iPod was right! My future love IS in New York.

From “Overheard in New York”

Suit: Do you have any headache medication?
Production assistant pulling random stuff out of pockets: Yeah, sure. Do you have a headache?
Suit: No, but I might later... Oooh! Band-Aids!

How can you not love a man like this? I think I may have found my future husband. He’s planning ahead which means that he is probably logical (and let’s face it, if I am ever going to marry, it should be a logical person) BUT he also appreciates the fun that is Band-Aids and would understand my ability to be distracted by all that is bright and/or shiny (or, you know, plastic with some gauze). This indicates that he would probably be fun enough so I wouldn’t end up killing him, which I’m sure you all realize is the foundation of a successful marriage.

****

Do not panic. I’m okay. Really.

I’ve been forgetting to take my Effexor lately. I don’t know why. I put it in the medicine cabinet. It’s right next to the Seraquel. It’s not invisible. But I don’t remember to take it. I don’t forget the Seraquel, of course, if I don’t take that I can’t sleep for hours and then I have these horrible images that flash through my head (oh, such as faces melting and blood and random torn off limbs and evil witch like creatures that cackle at me (Yes, I’m a ton of fun at parties). You would think I would look and say “Oh. Look. Here is my Effexor. I should probably take it.” But I don’t. You would think that I would realize how important it is because I can tell when I’m starting to mess up my dosage. I’m sad. I’m angry. I’m exhausted all the time. I don’t want to do anything except sleep and read and eat (because no, I can’t be one of those people that doesn’t eat when they’re depressed (although I do a pretty good job of not eating when I’m depressed, I am not so good at saying “Hey, Dana. You have just devoured a full portion of food. STOP eating now!”). I know everything will be okay; I just have to get into the habit of taking my pills again. Oh, and my iron pills. Because maybe one of the reasons I’ve been feeling so dizzy and weak lately is because I’m somewhat anemic and I’m supposed to take the damn pills. And I should take vitamins. I have vitamins. Somewhere. It’s kind of like the ginkgo bilboa I bought to help with my memory. I just forgot to take them.

Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I know what the problem is and I know how to solve it. I’m not finding myself staring out windows and wanting to jump which is a good thing, considering I’m on the 27th floor.

****

Okay. Back to the funny portion of my post (aka: where I ramble about signs and commercials and never actually make a point (and quite possibly scare you all)).

Today on the ride in, I was listening to the radio. Part of my lovable charm is my irritation with certain signs or commercials. I’m not sure exactly what it is but there are some things that just set me off. For example, Beth has been witness to my irrational hatred of a business next to her apartment. For some reason, the idea of a graphic arts business named “Let’s Get Graphic!” just irritates the heck out of me. Beth has asked me why. I don’t know what it is. It’s just wrong. That’s all I know (she was telling her Dad about this and his response was “I think she may be the weirdest person you know. Oh, wait, you hung out at that pool hall for awhile”). I know it doesn’t make any sense. I know that the name tells you what they do. But still it makes me so irritated.

DM: Let’s get graphic. I’ll get graphic! I hate your stupid name!
B: Why? Why do you hate them so much?
DM (after struggling to formulate the perfect answer that will reveal all and cause the sky to open and a group of angels sing “Hallelujah” while the world suddenly corrects all of its problems): Because!

Yes. Because. That’s a great reason, isn’t it?

Last Sunday or the Sunday before, John observed me drawing on a piece of paper. When I am bored (or, in this case, not bored but annoyed with both him and Craig because Beth and I have so much fun at karaoke by either scrapbooking (well, drawing layouts, actually) or playing Trivial Pursuit (not easy to do when they are there because they act as if they know everything and can get pretty condescending and not understand that half of the fun of Trivial Pursuit is the incredibly wrong answers. Rat bastards) and can’t think of anything to write (or, in this case, can’t write what I want to write which is something along the lines of “Oh for the love of God, can you please go away? Please? Craig. Under no circumstances is Beth ever going to find you attractive. You repulse her. And you wear too much cologne. And your accent is so very fake and not at all sexy. Desmond from LOST has a sexy Scottish accent. You do not. Also, Desmond doesn’t just have a sexy Scottish accent. He is also tall and pretty to look at. You are not. And John, while you are less annoying than Craig because we can talk about boys with you, you are one of the most cynical people I know. And yes, I can be pretty cynical myself (we discovered that we share the same favorite poster from Despair.com) but damn it, there is only so much I can take of your constant bitching about how the world is out to get you and yet another person called you racist because you wouldn’t sell them beer on Sunday (which, hello, stupid people, against the law!) and whatever your complaint du Jour is)…you know, I’m going to start this sentence over.

When I am bored or can’t think of anything to write, I will find myself doodling. My doodling pretty much consists of drawing a box. I then divide the box into sections and then fill in the sections in an alternating manner. Nothing major. I just like it. It relaxes me and keeps me from stabbing people with forks (not that I’ve ever actually stabbed someone with a fork. I just make vague stabbing motions and then Beth or Keem take the fork away from me). Anyway, John was somewhat fascinated with my need to make sure that there was a proper balance of filled in and blank sections. Apparently this makes me somewhat OCD. Since John doesn’t know me that well, he has no clue that I am quite possibly the most extreme opposite of OCD – I would be, as I mentioned earlier, an example of someone who suffers from bright, shiny object syndrome. In other words, I get distracted easily; I’m somewhat hyper & have the attention span of a gnat.

John: Oh my God. You should marry James and have neurotic babies.

Later, when Beth was driving me home, we had the following conversation (of course, I also don’t remember things well so who knows if this is even close).

DM: I’d think that if James and I had babies, we’d have a chance of having a somewhat normal baby. I’m not neurotic.
B (she may have laughed hysterically at this point): If you and James had babies, you’d end up with a kid who feared all condiments or was obsessed with mustard*, lettuce & would yell at random business signs (there was probably more. I so need to start recording our conversations).
DM: But “Let’s Get Graphic” is so stupid!

*Just because I refuse to live in a mustard free household & think the Mustard Museum in Mount Horeb is quite possibly the coolest place ever & suddenly I’m obsessed? Sheesh (although Beth may not have been the one that said I was obsessed. It might have been me. Who knows? Again, reason why I need to start taping conversations).

There was also the series of commercials perpetrated on society by a local grocery store. Not only did they have these really annoying radio commercials where they did this sort of beatnik jazzy number about all the things you can get at Rainbow (including a freaking headache from their commercials) but they also decided “Hey, let’s take a bunch of different foods and dress them up like little people. That will be fun.” No. No, stupid ad people, this is not fun. It is stupid and wrong. Because not only does it cause me to go into a five minute tirade about the French Bread wearing little berets and then looking very phallic, it also means that you’re going to present us with a carrot wearing a little dress and earrings and a necklace made out of peas. Peas. So not only is Rainbow saying “Hey, it’s really cool to dress up food like people, it’s also okay to cannibalize other vegetables for jewelry.” This would be like me saying “Hey, I really like so-and-so’s face. Maybe I’ll make a necklace out of it.” Which would result in me being arrested, rightfully so. Shouldn’t the carrot lady be arrested?

Okay, anyway, the whole point to this was that I was listening to this commercial on the radio today which consists of some loud, obnoxious guy trying to say the tagline but failing miserably. And the guy who is supposedly the man in the sound booth keeps saying “Oh, just say this in a relaxed tone.” So you hear, over and over and over, “Corona Light. It’s the only light beer that’s also a Corona.”

DM: That is so stupid. Obviously it’s the only light beer that’s a Corona because the name is Corona Light!
Keem: Can you think of a better tagline for Corona Light?
DM: Yes. Beer sucks. Don’t drink it.
Keem: And again I ask, can you think of a better tagline for Corona Light?
DM: Yeah, I’m blogging this.

****

Next to come? A post in which I write about how I, as a non-driver, do not need to worry about being overcome by road rage. However, I apparently suffer from karaoke rage. Or, you know, I should just take my damn pills already.

****

Apparently my blog is rated G. There are no bad words on it. Anywhere. Obviously I'm not as hardcore as I thought.

Mingle² - Online Dating

Shake it up

So yesterday I was approached by Cheryl S. (my boss is Cheryl) who is a manager here at NABABNA Stock Transfer. Apparently there has been some rearranging of the teams and I am no longer going to report to Cheryl, I'm going to report to Cheryl S. (because that's not confusing AT ALL) and she wanted to let me know before the reorganization memo went out.

New Boss Cheryl (NBC): I think this will be great but if you have any problem with this, you should let Sue know (Sue is Cheryl and NBC's manager).
DM: Oh, I know there will be a problem already.
NBC: Oh?
DM: Yes. How can I possibly work with you? You like Mr. Winkle.
NBC: Starts laughing.
DM: I mean, how can I respect someone that likes that thing?

In case you're not aware of the horridness that is Mr. Winkle, it is this small dog like creature that some woman rescued and now spends all of her time dressing him up in costumes and taking his pictures. Like that woman who takes pictures of babies dressed as flowers and fruit. Frightening! NBC loves this dog and has his calendars hanging in her cube. Every time I go to talk to her about something I have to spend some time just shuddering. I don't know what it is but that dog freaks the heck out of me!

I repeated the conversation to Sue this morning. She found it amusing as well. Sigh. I am surrounded by Mr. Winkle groupies.

Just because

I'm feeling better, got a lot of sleep last night due to a huge dose of Seroquel. Only woke up once during the night because of the back pain. Yay! Stupid weather. An occurrence, by the way, is just part of our attendance policy. Too many of them are bad and can lead to public flogging (no, not really, just termination). Unfortunately, I don't know where I am at so I'm trying not to get into trouble with my attendance again.

Anyway, I just came across some things in my combination Blogging/Karaoke notebook from a few weeks ago, when Beth, Keem and I were over at Beth's mom's playing Trivial Pursuit.

One of the questions involved Michael Jackson forming a friendship with the Rabbi who wrote the book "Kosher Sex."

DM: "Kosher Sex?" What? Don't mix your milk and flesh products?

Keem had a question she couldn't figure out the answer to - about a large tenor who went on a diet and gained 25 pounds instead of losing the 25 pounds.

Keem: I know it! It's P! P! Why is only the P coming out? All I can see is P! Tenor - P - weighs a lot! I'm not going to get it on just P!
DM: STOP IT!

The answer, of course, is Luciano Pavarotti. She finally did get the answer, I believe, but I had to rush to the bathroom*.

Several years ago, while watching Last Comic Standing, I learned that it is very important to go to the bathroom before you start watching stand up comedy. Apparently this rule also needs to apply to playing Trivial Pursuit with your friends.

*I emailed her the other day and wrote the following - "I am currently doing the dance to the letter P."

Laurie (Beth's mom) started discussing what she would do if she learned that she had only a short time to live. She had quit smoking awhile ago.

Laurie: I want Camels. I don't need to save money. I'll try crack.

Bulletpoint Dana

• Hi. I'm cranky.
• Why am I cranky? That's a good question.
• I withdrew my name from the QP/Training job. As much as I love Quality, I hate training and know it is not for me. One of the best trainers I know is Keem. And she would be really good at Quality as well. She also applied for a management position.
• She didn't get either job. But she was told to keep applying. Because she has such great skills.
• Yeah. She's told that every time she applies for job. "Oh, Keem, you're so great. But we're giving the job to So and So..."
• She's not overly happy about this, as you can guess. Neither am I because I not thrilled about the person who got the QP/Training position. We both understand why the other person got the management position, she's been doing the job without the title for about 2 years or so.
• I'm also cranky because I have woken up the last two days with incredibly horrible back pain.
• The type of back pain where you start weeping to yourself because it hurts so much. No matter what position you switch to, it still hurts.
• The type of back pain where you get up through the night and try to sleep in a chair, hoping that will work. And take ibuprofen. And then go back to bed because the chair isn't working either.
• When the alarm finally goes off, you glare at it, daring it to make you get up.
• The alarm clock just beeps at you. It doesn't care if you go to work or not.
• Keem does, however. She won't let you get another occurrence. She is a caring Keem. The bitch (joking, just joking).
• The back pain lets up a little at 9:30 last night when the thunderstorm starts.
• Of course! Have you forgotten that your back likes to help you predict the weather by reacting to barometric pressure? Yes, you have.
• So Keem drops you off at work today because she has to go to a client's office and help stock owners there.
• You walk into the office and start having an asthma attack.
• WTF? You haven't had an asthma attack in months. What the hell is going on?
• Oh, wait, you had to use the inhaler a few weeks ago.
• You bring out the inhaler. Puff. Puff. Blech.
• Asthma medicine, just so you know, takes like crap. Or misty crap, I guess.
• Asthma attack has been averted. Yay.
• What has not been averted? Throwing up in my waste basket.
• Not sure where that came from. Blech.
• I am now trying to talk my boss into letting me go home without it being an occurrence. Since all vacation time has been frozen, somehow I don't see that happening.
• Sorry, Beth. I'm not going to karaoke tonight. I know I am lame.

Pictures. And other things.

Last Thursday, Beth, James and I are exchanging cell phone numbers (because, oops, forgot to share. I am a bad friend).

James: Ready?
DM: No. Give me a second. Okay.
James: (612)
DM: Yeah.
James: 867
DM: Uh-huh.
James: 5309.
DM: That is NOT your phone number. Asshole.
James: Dissolves into hysterical laughter.

Am I a bad person because the advertisement for the magazine Positive Thinking in my mail box made me roll my eyes and say "Oh, please"? I have come to the decision that I might be a tad cynical. And it is very hard to explain to Beth and Keem that, while I don't like people, it doesn't mean that I don't like them (Beth's response to "you're not people" was "Oh, great. I'm an alien"). I think it is that I don't like people in groups. Such as the bar. If it was up to me, only select people would be allowed. Scottish Craig is not one of them. I ask you, if you have a sunken chest, why do you try to show it off by wearing tight t-shirts? And who the hell shows up wearing a flak jacket and a tan bandana? Is he Rambo? Is he the Scottish Army (of one)? Is he just an annoying, annoying man who I want to dress up in a deer costume and dump him in the woods on the first day of deer hunting?* Or am I a bitch? It could be both, I guess.

*This is because he has a tattoo that is a deer through a gun sight. I think it would be a fitting punishment. As Beth said "It could be Bambi's Dad. Or Bambi. Thumper couldn't save him." Do not get me started on Disney movies which make me cry. Poor Bambi's Dad. Poor Tod's Mom. Stupid Disney. Nobody's family could actually stay together, could they? No, we have to have everyone die. There's a reason Sleeping Beauty is my favorite Disney movie. Her parents don't die, they just go to sleep. And yeah, there's this really scary dragon but Maleficent is my favorite Disney villian so I'm okay with that.

You will be happy to know that Co-Worker Eric asked his girlfriend Crystal to marry him and she said yes. Co-Worker Eric is actually quite bouncy and chirpy (Which may be my way of saying chipper and perky) today and it is quite pleasant to see. See! I can be positive! I'm not always negative.

I decided to apply for another job today at NABABNA. It is working more directly with different stock companies and helping them and the people they refer to us. I think I would enjoy it, there is admin work involved and I love stuff like that. I don't know if I'll get the position but it would certainly solve the problem of Keem and I applying for the same job. Wish me luck.

Anyway, Beth, Keem and I went to the Como Park Conservatory on Friday and then Beth and I went to Minnehaha Falls on Sunday. Here are some of my favorite pictures. And yes, I am a big fan of the saturate button. What's your point?



These are lillies. I like them.



I don't know why I like taking pictures of benches when they are empty. I think it is because they look like they are waiting for someone to come spend time with them. I think one of my favorite scenes in Notting Hill is Hugh Grant reading with a pregnant Julia Roberts lying with her head in his lap on the bench. I think the bench was happy to have them there. Is that weird? That's probably weird.



There were no actual poisonous frogs at the zoo. I was disappointed.



Look. The miniature killer is Japanese.



Flamingo flowers. I like flamingos. They are pink.



This is a completely awesome picture. I love, love, love Zoe and her ability to capture a moment like this (Zoe is my camera's name. I do believe I already said I was weird, right?), where the water is frozen in time.



Flamingos. They are walking. Birds do that. AND! They are pink.



When taking pictures inside, it is important to switch the camera mode from landscape to portrait. Or the picture of your former cat will look somewhat yellowish. Bet you wish you had a cat that plays Trivial Pursuit, don't you?



On our way to Minnehaha Falls, we drove by an owl in the road. Coolness.



I love water. I especially love waterfalls. And lakes. And oceans. And, well, rivers. Um, yeah, I love water. Anyway, this is at Minnehaha Falls.

Things that amuse me

So last night (Thursday, actually. I'm a bit behind), these two girls get up to sing "American Pie" by Don McLean and they get to the chorus and sing "The day the music died" in this horrible screeching "Please, God, make me deaf so I never have to hear this again" sort of way. Joe Funko (Thursday night regular) yells out "Is that today?" Yeah, I lost it.

This post by NancyPearlWannabe (or NPW as we in the know fondly refer to her as). She is full of the funny, that one. And this one (which is traumatic but also hilarious) and also reminds me of the time my friend Becky and I were attacked by a dead deer.

Get Fuzzy today.

Showing John pictures from Como Park and Minnehaha Falls taken this weekend.

DM: This is a fish.
John: Yes. It is a fish.
DM: This is a bench. It is very lonely.
John: Yes. It is a bench (this may have been accompanied with the "are you for real, woman?" look that John occasionally casts in my direction. He's not quite used to me yet).
DM: This is my former cat (Mac who now lives with Beth's mom). He is playing Trivial Pursuit with us.
John: Your former cat? Did you fire him?


I had a list of things that annoyed me but you know, life's too short to be annoyed by other people and their (lack of) fashion sense.

Overheard at work

Man: What? They can't do that.
Woman: I know. It's stupid and wrong.
Man: Well, it's not like they couldn't bring him back.
Woman: Hello? The space ship blew up. He'd be in little itty pieces. But maybe...they did have his head. I guess they could bring him back.
Puzzled 2nd Woman: Dana? What ARE you talking about? I heard was "they have his head. I guess they could bring him back."
Woman: Oh! Star Trek: Next Gen. They killed Data.

I've recently discovered a site that amuses me - Overheard in New York. There's another one, I guess, called Overheard at Work. I'm thinking of submitting this conversation I had with Former Boss Matt the other day.