Overheard

And I just turned to him and said "Screw that! I'm not going to any dry boyscout camp where you can't drink any beer!"

Guerilla campaign in the ladies' room

There's one of these on each stall door. 

I hasten to remind you that I (allegedly) work with adults, not children.

Brutal in its desperation and honesty

When I walked in the office this morning, I saw this on the bulletin board by the door. :)

New business lingo

I like to share things like this with you so you can be in the know and impress your friends at parties.

Here goes:

My frustration is...
translates to
This is the reason I, personally, think you suck at your job.

If you slip this into a looooong, repetitive, whiny voicemail (similar to one I got this afternoon), it'll sound businesslike and uberbitchy all at once!

Go forth and use this with abandon!

I am here to help you.

Would it kill you to smile?

I work in a friendly (sometimes overly friendly, but that's another story for another day) office. People say hello to each other. We all try to know a little about each others' lives. It's a creative, team-based environment, so we all try to help each other out.

And folks usually smile at each other when they pass in the halls.

Except for four.

These are the most sour-faced, dour people on the face of this earth. They are never friendly and they give the impression that they are much too good to smile back at you or even return a hello.

Who raised them? How did they get their jobs?

The rudeness of it drives me crazy.

I lament the death of common courtesy!!!

Today is my anniversary

Not with Beau.

With my job.

Nine years ago today I joined The Firm. Which is kind of funny, because I thought this would just be a temporary pit stop on the road to editorial greatness. But then I realized that I like it here. I like the people (I've met great friends here; hell, I met Beau here). I like the atmosphere. I'm good at my job.

Nine years. That's longer than any relationship (friendship notwithstanding) I've had. Longer than I spent in college. Longer than I've lived in any one house.

It's a long time in my book.

There's no real fanfare for nine years here. At ten years, you get a plaque (I almost typed plague--yikes!), fanfare, your photo taken, and two extra weeks off. For nine, you get thumbs up and a keep up the good work vibe, which is fine. I'm really happy to be employed in times like these.

Nine years. Wow.

Today is ALSO my oldest friend's birthday. (We're the same age; she's not the oldest friend, she's the friend I've had for the longest amount of time--since third grade.)

So if you're reading this, Q:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I LOVE YOUR GUTS! HUGS AND KISSES! YOU'RE THE BEST!

New fake word

One of my coworkers just invented this one.

Delighter: (noun) something that delights.

The Sunday brunch was a significant delighter to Mom.

I give up.

Superserious vinyl collection, part deux

Came in to another surprise this morning. 

Because I work with grownups

As I type, the men in the office are in a frenzy.

Apparently, there's a turd on the floor of the men's room.

And they're all crowding in to get a look at it, daring someone to poke it and see if it's real.

Sigh.

Yikes

One of my coworkers has a son going into college in the next week or two. We were chatting about it when one phrase stopped me:

"He's going into physical therapy, we've decided."

Whuck?!?

The kid doesn't get to pick his own major? 

That's the way to ensure that he'll be an "artist" who lives in their garage and sculpts items out of cockroaches and rat feces.

Superserious vinyl collection

At my desk, I have a collection of awesome record albums (and if you're too young to know what a record album is, you break my heart). Eddie Murphy's Party All the Time, Burt Reynolds' Ask Me What I Am (which has a kick-ass fold-out poster of Burt in a baby blue polyester leisure suit and white patent boots!), John Travolta's album, you get the gist. I think Beau's given me pretty much all of them.

The latest cracks me up (and brings me back to my pre-teen heartthrob days--Bo was by far my favorite Duke).

YEEEEE-HAWWWWWWW!

I walked in to a coworker's office today

And I noticed that he has a big Ziplock bag affixed to the wall.

It houses his private collection.

It's a collection of his own hair.

No. Sudden. Movements.

Thank God, reason still exists

I got the Intern Project back today. I convinced them to get rid of the fork in the secret sauce line.

Though I noticed on this round that they still rave about Jeffco Pubic schools. :)

I weep for the future of this country

Remember the fabulous interns I wrote about earlier in the summer?

They're baaaaaaaack. At my desk. With their Final Project. I'm sooooo lucky I get to edit the whole thing! Not a waste of my time at all.

So far, I've learned that our company "pries itself on its people," and that "we believe an agency is only as good as the sum of its parts--its people." 

Whuck??

I've also learned that then and than are totally interchangeable, as are our and are! Knowing this cuts my workload in half, I tell ya!

But the cherry on the top of the shit sundae has to be this. They've created the term FORK (fun+work), and they call our company culture our secret sauce, culminating in this gem:

So send us your resume,
and get ready to dip your fork in our company sauce.

I. Give. Up.

Newbie nicknames

In this office, there are so many new faces that it's nearly impossible to keep up. I find myself giving these folks nicknames (in my head, of course, never out loud) instead of actually learning their names (which is lazy on my part, I'll admit).

So, as they parade by my desk on any given day, these are the names that go through my head:

• Girl who cut her hair (but shouldn't have)
• Girl who never smiles
• Girl who never washes her hands in the bathroom, yet is a maniacal toothbrusher
• Guy who couldn't possibly be old enough to work here
• Girl who might be pregnant, but who also might have just had a burrito
• Guy who wore a tie on his first day
• Guy who drives the wrong way in the parking garage during peak hours
• Snotty intern
• Deer-in-the headlights girl
• Guy who looks like The Dude
• Guy with the jingly pants
• Girl who wears stripper perfume

I'll never remember their actual names.

EVEN IF you're a new father...

who's talking to a new mother at work about the new and exciting world of parenting...

Your coworkers never want to hear you ask her the following out loud:

"Does your baby have nipple confusion and tear you apart?" 

(The new mother probably doesn't really want to hear that either.)

Overheard

My coworker down the hall has a daily trivia question. Today's question is: What's the only state with a one-syllable name*?

I shit you not, I just heard a coworker guess (wrongly) and say "Oh well, there are 52 states, so I'll just guess 51 more times."

Sigh.


*It's Maine.

Ah, the appreciation this job affords

I just plopped a large, copy-heavy, fully edited document on the desk of a coworker (writer of said large, copy-heavy document).

He looked down at it, said nothing, and went back to his computer as though nothing had happened.

Sigh.

Gentlemen, start your engines

It's Intern Season here at the office.

Every summer, there's one magical day that my male coworkers look forward to. Intern Day (ooooooh! aaaaaaah!) is the modern office monkey's new Christmas.

The new crop arrived this morning; early-20-something coeds. Long, lean, nubile, and bedecked in  skin-tight finery.

I thought it was just another ordinary Monday until I heard a bunch of male whispers in the kitchen; I could only make out one word: intern!

Today is the day that they take the hatchlings on a tour through our buildings. The interns get their bearings; the rest of us get a show. There's the one guy who wore a tie (he won't live that down for the rest of the summer) and a gaggle of coiffed young ladies in tight skirts, tighter sweaters, and sky-high stilettos.

I've been in this office so long that Intern Day makes me chuckle. In a nutshell, a bunch of 40- and 50-somethings surround these girls for a couple of weeks (or until that new-intern smell wears off) and make utter fools of themselves. They get giggly and animated. And the girls are oblivious. It's really kind of cute. A harmless way to relive one's youth.  

Last year, we watched the sharks circle and pondered possible pickup lines that were being thrown out.

The winner by a mile was:

"Hey, Little Lady! Ever see a beer belly up close?"

:)

Chuckleworthy

I got these green Keds wedges at a really good price awhile back (and for those of you who don't know, wedges are the slippers of heeled shoes--very comfortable).

They're so cheerful, I smile when I wear them.

Last time I wore them, I got a BIG smile out of what one of my coworkers said about them: I WOULD WEAR THE SHIT OUT OF THOSE SHOES!

It's my new favorite exclamation.