Archive for August, 2008
-image-My 2 Cents: Men Who Try to Flirt While Driving
Thank you to the trucker who blew me a kiss today. Gee, I feel so sexy.
I’m not 16. I’m not cruising main street as my evening’s social activities. I’m in a minivan, the anti-sexy, at morning rush hour. And considering I returned your gesture by quickly turning away and speeding up, that wasn’t an invitation to continue flirting by HONKING your big ol’ horn.
It’s probably the reaction you hoped for, right? You just wanted a reaction. You didn’t expect me to change course and follow you to the nearest lot, right? Good. Cuz you looked rather scuztacular.
But really? Is it just the attention they seek? Just to spice up their otherwise boring day of cackling on their radios to one another? Do men who drive up beside you with no intention to pass and keep slightly varying their speeds so you eventually HAVE to look over at them because MAYBE they’re a concerned motorists trying to let you know that your tire looks flat or your muffler just exited the underside but then instead give you the “hey sexy laaaaddyyy” really think they have a chance?
I mean, ick. Go away. We’re propelling veritable fiery death traps at high rates of speed, jackelope. Eyes on the road! Hands at 10 and 2. I don’t want to flirt with you.
To the sicko who to this DAY gives me the heebie jeebies because of when I finally looked over to the right at him while traveling north on US 131: I definitely didn’t need to see you jerking off. Seatbelts? Not optional, so zip it, strap in and save your whack session for when you’re home alone.
Honestly, how would he have explained THAT crash scene to his momma?
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
10:54 am |
-image-One Week Down…
About 25 more years of work to go! That’s something uplifting my retired and oh so hilarious father says when we chat about work. But I did it. I went back to work, albeit for 2.5 days.
As I mentioned, our office is preparing to move off campus next week, so to come back this particular week didn’t allow for a seamless re-entry; and, I don’t say that JUST because of the Tape Dispenser Incident (see previously linked post for a most ranteriffic rant.).
AND speaking of the tape dispenser incident, my friend Sticks Magee, who shared the office with me last semester said the crappy tape dispenser on MY desk sounds like the tape dispenser that she was given, meaning I’m the victim of the Ol’ Switcheroo. I hate the Ol’ Switcheroo! Unless, of course, I’ve pulled the Ol’ Switcheroo, but obviously NOT THIS TIME. Snap!
Does anyone know where I can get some invisible ink pen which, upon special lighting, will elicit the secret message which I will write on all future office supplies…something like “if this isn’t sitting on Stacy’s desk, you can kiss your Hot Pocket goodbye?”
Also… remember when I was sprayed in the head with a hose while sitting on the toilet? Well, that definitely didn’t happen to me at work, but I wished I had a video recording of my facial expression (and facial expression ONLY, sickos), because what my face registered was pure shock.
Well, I think an even funnier video could have existed of me on Tuesday when I stepped into the work elevator ONLY to remember as the doors were closing that HOLY SHIT DIDN’T THIS THING CATCH FIRE WHEN I WAS OUT ON MATERNITY LEAVE?
Oh yes, it did. The elevator caught fire and THEN a couple of people have been trapped in it since then (not while on fire, thankfully). So as the doors were closing, I suddenly came out of my post-lunch walking coma and herky-jerked wavy-armed leapt towards the doors to force them back open all while trying to keep from screeching obscenities.
I made it out alive and took the stairs to the vending machine.
Yes, I almost died trying to get post-(big)-lunch PopTarts.
On Thursday, in an attempt to avoid the vending machine (and accidental fiery elevator/death trap), save money, and eat healthier, I brought snacks and actually ate them! Go me! But my true feelings of not visiting the vending area showed loudly and passionately when I was informed that (deep breath) the vending machine was GONE. GONE. Had been removed. NO LONGER. See ya. No PopTarts. No Doritos. No chocolate.
Gasp.
The pop machine? Still there. Ohhh good. The pop machine that only takes coins because the dollar bill taker works every fourth Monday in months ending in “g.” And only if the moon is in its fourth phase.
We can’t get to the new building (with shiny new elevators!) soon enough. Actually, if I recall, we’re on the first floor, so I can avoid fiery deathtraps all together.
And that concludes my rambling and incomplete story of my first week back to work. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of the Tape Dispenser Chronicles…
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
9:02 pm |
-image-Team Cooper
As many of you know, I heart Anderson Cooper since his days wooing contestants and viewers as the host of my fave reality game show, The Mole.
This hottie (yes, I KNOW) has come under fire from Dina Lohan, and I’ll be making up my Team Cooper tshirts this weekend.
Don’t mess with The Coop, crazy stage mom. He just calls them like he sees them. And he sees trainwreck.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
11:06 am |
-image-Multi-Tasking to a Whole New Level
Yes, my posture may be bad. Yes, it’s not a pretty picture, but I’m coming at you LIVE! From the office! WHILE pumping. Look interweb — no hands!
Thank the stars for locked office doors.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
1:39 pm |
-image-Hello from the Office!
I’m back at work, and I couldn’t be more off my mark. I feel fuzzy and migrainey and confused.
I’m sure some of this general discombobulation can be attributed to the lack of sleep I’ve been getting thanks to the Nugget’s new nighttime routine of crying out every 15 minutes because he’s flipped himself over onto his tummy and cannot get back to his preferred position of left side fetal position. Seriously, kid, let’s work on that because OH MY GOD go back to sleep. I’m dying.
Then there’s the whole getting the kids together and ready for daycare without getting spit-up on me and making sure I remember all of the necessities (which today, I forgot my cellphone and more bags for pumping, so I had to run out and buy more). Not to mention, the massive Nugget (no longer a nugget. Now a ROCK.) requires a lot of upper body strength to heft him into daycare along with his diaper bag, the bag of pumped milk, Jojo and anything for Jojo I need to bring for that day.
I know many parents do this and with many more kids, even, but hey, it’s my blog and I can whine if I want to. Today, my sister-in-law was visiting, so she helped get Jojo in the car, so I still haven’t done the transfer on my own. I’m sure it will become routine in time, right? (This is where you nod your head and say “yes, of course! And my, your skin looks fantastic! Have you lost weight, too?)
Jojo has taken to crying fits upon hearing the word “daycare” or “school,” so I try to work in fun words like “FRIENDS” and “TOYS” and “PLAYGROUND” and “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” but they usually don’t cut through the tears like I pray they do. He does have fun though…I usually stay around to peek through the door and watch him. He’s fine. Adorable. Almost toooo adorable, as I want to just pull up a stool and watch him all day instead of getting back into the van to head to work.
And work. Work. The “new” building isn’t ready for us yet, so my crafty plan to avoid “the move” and arrive in a minty fresh office didn’t hatch as expected. Everyone’s offices are piled high with cardboard boxes and random items that are currently in use but will be boxed as soon as we move next week.
As if this wasn’t enough, something strange has happened to my tape dispenser. Oh yes, don’t mess with my tape dispenser. It’s all … taped up. Like the perp didn’t like some of the pieces and instead of throwing them away, just stuck them all over the tape dispenser and not in a “HA! Your tape dispenser has been PUNK’D!” More like a, I have zero respect for your tape dispenser and am tapin’ all over it because I’m lazy. So I spent a few minutes de-taping it, hunted down a new roll of tape (oh yes, the perp didn’t refill said defaced dispenser), and then TA-FRIGGING-DA, I realized that the little black roundish thing that holds the tape in the dispenser has been taken (I’m guessing thrown away with the empty roll?), so now what? It’s not like I work for some swanky office where shiny new tape dispensers line the overflowing shelves of coordinated office supplies. I’ll probably have to file a frigging purchase order, figure out which account to bill it to and then get yelled at by our office manager for not knowing that the account number changed in my absence.
It’s weird being here. Just weird. I’m off my game. That’s all I can tell you. We’ll see how long this all lasts.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
1:10 pm |
