Just love ’em.
Work is annoying in some ways but pretty sweet in others. My employer finally gave the pink collars our long overdue raises (this is a new record – they were 8 months late this time), so that was nice. And having Gwendolyn as my boss is just wonderful. Having her to back up whatever wacky concept I want to try (holding people to their job description, paying the employees minimum wage, etc) is just heartwarming. No BS from Gwen.
Finding out that one of our locations hasn’t been paying all employees minimum wage – SUCKS. (Seriously – I am so angry about this I want someone fired – preferably the GM)
Having to finally recognize that this may be a company wide problem – REALLY sucks.
The fix for this – if indeed it’s even fixable – is going to be unbearably tedious and annoying. And yet, it must be done. Of all the control freaks at my employer, I think I may be the biggest.
Surprising news – Stefania’s boss (previously known as New Boss’s Boss – I’m not giving him a soap opera pseudonym, but if I were to, I am leaning toward Blake, Darren or Lorenzo) has apparently had a meeting, phone conversation or something with the payroll outsourcer that Gwen and I met with a few months ago. Squeee! It’s fugging expensive but would be SO worth it! (Squee is the new Lurve, BTW). I would give up a lot to have payroll data that I trust.
So, another year, another Oscars has passed.
Why do all the headlines trumpet that all the acting trophies went to Europeans? It almost sounds like someone is trying to make it a controversy.
I just turned the TV on and AMC’s showing The Godfather. It just got to the scene where the movie producer is showing Tom (Robert Duvall) his “$600,000 on 4 hooves” new race horse and I had to turn it off. Eech. Knowing what happens to that horse makes me feel bad. Now that was a Best Picture!
So was “No Country for Old Men.” I never got around to seeing Atonement (I know, and isn’t that strange, that Atonement would be the Best Picture nominee I’d miss??) but “No Country” was the strongest of the 4 nominees that I did see. I liked “Juno” better, but “No Country” was a movie for the ages. Holy Cow, I hope “There Will Be Blood” is forgotten even quicker than, say, “Magnolia” (a previous movie by the same director).
Am I the only one who counted to see how many of the past Best Picture winners I’d seen? I’m up to 28 out of 80, I think. Or 23, maybe. I have another 4 of them on the DVR right now, but I can’t bring myself to watch any of them (“The Apartment,” “Citizen Kane”, “The Best Years of Our Lives” and “Hamlet”). Maybe I’ll get inspired later.
I just found a freaking hysterical new (to me) blog – “Stuff White People Like.” C’mon, you know you want to click on the link. Seriously. Just do it. At least read the guest column about “Top Ten Hip Hop Songs White People Like.”
And, a new time waster: Barack Obama is Your New Bicycle. (Good news: Barack Obama told me to tell you hello. Hello!)
So, at work, Stefania’s Toady always burns candles. Some of them smell good, like cookies, and some of them smell like Eau de French Whore. Funny enough, the Eau de French Whore-scented candle makes me cough and makes my throat sore, but the cookies-scented candles do not.
What I love is when the candle dies out or when the Toady leaves and blows out the candle. Then the room has that pleasant smell of birthday cake 30 seconds after the guest of honor blows out the candles. My gut kicks in and says “Hey, are we getting cake?”
This also happens when the candle burning is vanilla scented. I swear, it’s like every time I open my mouth I get a mouthfull of vanilla frosting.
So now I have a reputation at work for being able to “smell cake.” I hope someday I’ll learn to shut my yap. My Former Sister Accountants know entirely too much about me!
(Oh, and no matter what comes out of the microwave, I always am sure I smell french fries. What does THAT mean?)
(Yeah, guess who wants fries and cake? Preferably separately, but together if need be).
I am in a just awful mood. I have written two separate posts that I have had to just save as a draft because they are so very crabby that someone would probably send the authorities to my house to take me away.
Let’s just say that chocolate is my friend (well, chocolate and Lunesta). This too shall pass.
(Oh, on the bright side, my back is way better. I wish someone else had been in the chiro’s office with me when he cracked both of my hips. Marvelous).
So did I tell you that Gene and I stopped at an IKEA in Virginia on our way to MD?
While we waited for the cafe to change over to meatballs (seriously – who goes there to eat eggs?? Even if they are yummy, they are clearly not meatballs), we did the obvious thing and shopped. I swear, IKEA has more stuff that I don’t need per square foot than any store in Cheesecake City. We walked out of there with clothes hampers (1 for our bedroom that I put together by myself), lint rollers, baby doo-dads for the baaaaby, 2 bags of Daim candy and 2 giant IKEA chocolate bars.
Anyway, yeah we had meatballs again and yeah they were awesome. Yum!
So now I’m trying to put together the other laundry hamper. I searched all the hell over IKEA’s website so I could link to it, all to no avail. No matter how hard I hit it with the mallet (the instructions TOLD me I could – I wasn’t just abusing it!) it wasn’t going anywhere.
Well, I avoided posting this earlier in the day but then some good luck came to me. Gene had to get on a problem call for work and while he did that (on mute of course) he put it together. (He managed to accidentally punch a hole in the carpet, but that’s neither here nor there).
Ha ha! You can ignore the title of this post because WE win. Yippee!
(It’s a cute little hamper too, meant to hold dirty dishtowels. There are two baskets on the side that I’m using to hold clean dishtowels).
Gene and I watched a movie today. It’s called “The Ten” and it’s all humorous sketches about the Ten Commandments.
(Yes this really is Elaine’s blog and yes, I’m still an atheist).
Anyway – the reason I wanted to watch it was because it starred many of the people from the 1990s sketch comedy show The State and I totally adored The State.
There’s a fair bit of cursing and a few shots where you can see a man’s rear end, but other than that, it’s pure comedy.
You should see it. (Probably on HBO or similar, but I put it on our Blockbuster.com queue).
…just in case you wondered how my leg/hip/ass-area injury was faring. (Oh, and my trainer said the injury is in my “oblique” area, which I guess is a French term for leg/hip/ass-area).
(oh, and BTW, I just realized that the title of this post makes almost no sense. I’m trying to say that it feels like someone is trying to rip my effing leg off).
Chiropractor tomorrow @ 9 AM. Can’t wait. If he can’t do anything, I’m just going to play in traffic. Owww.
Seriously – D had dental work done today (and won’t SHE be glad I just told the Internet??) and I emailed her at home to beg for narcotics. Apparently, dental work no longer rates strong drugs. Jerks.
Since coming home 27 hours ago, I have both injured myself (somewhere between my hip and my ass – my trainer tried to show me where it was but I can’t remember the technical term) and caught a cold. (Holy crap if I gave that baby a cold I will leap into traffic – possibly at the request of the happy parents).
I need to fold laundry.
And order all manner of computer crap for Gene’s whizbang new computer (monitor and other doo-dads).
But I am lazy. And sick. Gene is on a business trip. And the credit card is, I am pretty sure, in the car. Believe it or not, I am not in my car right now.
I am thinking the stuff may not get ordered tonight.
And the laundry? Ha ha. This is payroll week, kids. Whatever life I have in me is not going to be devoted to hanging up stuff or unloading the dishwasher (oh crap, forgot about that).
This weekend, we told our friends that what we really needed was a wife. I hope she shows up soon.
I give up. I’m going to fold a little laundry and knock back an Ambien with my Diet Dr. Pepper. I am nothing if not classy.
So we’re home from our longish weekend in Maryland to visit with the baaaaaaby (and his parents). The baby is something like 4 weeks old and weighing in at 8 lbs, something ounces. I spent a lot of time on Saturday talking alone with the mother. I really feel like she’s someone I can really ask for advice when/if my time comes. She told me about all the stuff no one tells you (well, I’ve read about some of it on various Mommy-type blogs) – and showed me EVIDENCE, too.
Seriously. Someone should show 15 year old girls the enormous ice pack moms get to use post partum. That would work wonders for teen pregnancy rates.
The new parents were amazingly kind. I got to hold the baby on a few occasions. That went well except for the inevitable “holy crap my elbow hurts but if I move it the kid could end up hurt”. I got to feed him once. And with that, I have never felt more inadequate. (The good news is that the Mom said to herself “ha ha! now she’ll know how *I* feel!” so I guess it’s typical). I was explicitly told “Try to avoid air bubbles – you’ll have to burp them out of him later!” and wasn’t THAT terrifying.
This is why I usually have a “I won’t hold your baby, I won’t drive your car” rule. If I burp Plan B wrong, it’s my kid I’m giving stomach upset to. If I burp YOUR kid wrong, I’m setting you up for a night from hell. And possible eternal hatred from you.
The interesting thing about the baby mama is that her job is to listen very carefully to everything you say. So, when you talk to her, she listens very carefully and God help you if you turn on Conversational Auto-Pilot because you might accidentally suggest she hasn’t lost all of the baby weight. If this happens, quickly ask where the baby is. She’s sleep deprived and it might save your life.
(Not that that happened to me or anything).
More about the visit later.
PS to my reader in MD – holy cow. The TRAFFIC.