Fucking Valentines day. Fucking falling on a weekday, Fucking Tradeshow happening on the same day, Fucking pressure
I wont be hone till like 10pm on Valentines Day, and even then, I have to be BACK at the VCEC for 6:30am. And to even add the cherry on the top of THAT sundae... Aunt Flo (oh god, the sundae reference is totally fitting!) is in town hanging around and pissing me off. So this Valentines Day shall be just splendid.
I have been so fucking busy the past few weeks at work, as you can all tell by my lack of posting, and lack of posting anything remotely funny. So I have not been abe to put together my awesome present idea for my hot stuff boyfriend. And everyone I have told about it, seems to think that its ridiculous anyways, and will take me too much time. Romantic, yes. Time saving, no.
So it looks like hes getting a big fat blow job and an ice cream sundae for Valentines Day.
God, Im funny.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Giggle
We all have this little button on the top of our web browser that looks like a clock with a large green arrow. This is our HISTORY button. Once clicking it, A separate page appears to the left with the history of that days, previous days, and previous weeks, Internet browsing history. I FOUND this to be a helpful tool when determining what kind of 'sites' my significant other was browsing throughout the day. (found is in capitols only cause I don't find this to be true anymore, I am completely speaking in the past tense for a reason) Giggle
My mistake? Telling him.
Giggle
Because now, my history only contains THAT DAYS pages, and even then, always just the MSN home page. Interesting. Even the pages I viewed that day (ones I view on a regular basis) don't even show up.
Weird huh?
Wow, its like magic
Giggle
*three cheers for porn!*
On a side note: I AM blonde, only disguised with brown dye. But that doesn't make me stupid :)
Giggle
My mistake? Telling him.
Giggle
Because now, my history only contains THAT DAYS pages, and even then, always just the MSN home page. Interesting. Even the pages I viewed that day (ones I view on a regular basis) don't even show up.
Weird huh?
Wow, its like magic
Giggle
*three cheers for porn!*
On a side note: I AM blonde, only disguised with brown dye. But that doesn't make me stupid :)
Giggle
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Correction....
In my last post I said my life was SAD. I want to take it back. The Annonymous poster got me thinking... that it really is insulting to those people I love and care about if I actually do think my life is SAD. Because they are a BIG PART of my life. And quite possibly the reason behind my life being happy or sad.
In fact, MY LIFE ROCKS. I have never been happier. I may grumble, moan, protest, and bitch about shitty things that happen, but in all honesty.... I have it pretty good. I have a man I love, a daughter whom I adore and think is probably the most intelligent child in the world, a job that I can feel accomplished with at the end of the day, and a home that I can come to everyday with heat, water, electricity and a warm bed that's a rockin ;)
Plus, I have my bullet
What more could a 27 year old woman ask for?
Well...other than a hot affair with Brad Pitt. He IS on my Freebie 5 you know. Have your people call my people k?
In fact, MY LIFE ROCKS. I have never been happier. I may grumble, moan, protest, and bitch about shitty things that happen, but in all honesty.... I have it pretty good. I have a man I love, a daughter whom I adore and think is probably the most intelligent child in the world, a job that I can feel accomplished with at the end of the day, and a home that I can come to everyday with heat, water, electricity and a warm bed that's a rockin ;)
Plus, I have my bullet
What more could a 27 year old woman ask for?
Well...other than a hot affair with Brad Pitt. He IS on my Freebie 5 you know. Have your people call my people k?
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Overworked and underpaid?
6 months ago I would have told you that I get paid too much for what I do. Mindless filing, data-entry, answering phones, glorified recepetion work so to speak, all for the wage of an entry-level-with-experience Executive Assistant in downtown Vancouver. I get paid fairly decently, I think, for a 40 year old woman who didnt finish highschool. (umm.. I am not 40, and I graduated highschool... this is purely hypotheical)
Today, I will NOT agree with that statement. Every day for the past two weeks I have come home achy, bitchy, grumpy, and every other word that ends in 'y' that describes something unpleasant. I wouldnt go so far as say I am completely unhappy... but more like frustrated with the amount of things I am doing in a short period of time, the expectations that are being placed on me, as well as the amount of OTHER PEOPLES work I am doing to save THEM time. Really, I am not an assistant. I am not even a receptionist. I am NOT a slave girl to pile work on just because I smile at you and don't tell you to shove it everytime you walk by with something more for me to do. I actually have a title. A title that in no way contains the word ASSISTANT, or RECEPTIONIST.
Just this morning, I was interrupted TWELVE times (ya, I counted) while I was frantically trying to get something done, in order to do something for someone else.
Now usually, one can argue that it is really my responsibility to let said co-workers know that I have enough things on my plate that I cannot find any room for theres, or that I may be able to get to it later, but here...at this office.... I really can't do that. It seems as though, unbeknownst to me, that I signed a contract outlining my job description, that was so VAGUE that I am basically at everyones mercy. Fun stuff.
So now, at 4:00 pm on a Tuesday, I am sitting here at my desk admist a humming fax machine, and whirring photo copier and a buzzing printer.... all with an achy back.... all of which are forming MORE WORK for me to do before I get to leave at 5pm to sit in disgusting traffic to get home at 6pm with an even achier(sp?) back from sitting in my car. Fun stuff.
The life of a middle class suburban worker bee was just described above.
My life is SAD.
I SUCK
Today, I will NOT agree with that statement. Every day for the past two weeks I have come home achy, bitchy, grumpy, and every other word that ends in 'y' that describes something unpleasant. I wouldnt go so far as say I am completely unhappy... but more like frustrated with the amount of things I am doing in a short period of time, the expectations that are being placed on me, as well as the amount of OTHER PEOPLES work I am doing to save THEM time. Really, I am not an assistant. I am not even a receptionist. I am NOT a slave girl to pile work on just because I smile at you and don't tell you to shove it everytime you walk by with something more for me to do. I actually have a title. A title that in no way contains the word ASSISTANT, or RECEPTIONIST.
Just this morning, I was interrupted TWELVE times (ya, I counted) while I was frantically trying to get something done, in order to do something for someone else.
Now usually, one can argue that it is really my responsibility to let said co-workers know that I have enough things on my plate that I cannot find any room for theres, or that I may be able to get to it later, but here...at this office.... I really can't do that. It seems as though, unbeknownst to me, that I signed a contract outlining my job description, that was so VAGUE that I am basically at everyones mercy. Fun stuff.
So now, at 4:00 pm on a Tuesday, I am sitting here at my desk admist a humming fax machine, and whirring photo copier and a buzzing printer.... all with an achy back.... all of which are forming MORE WORK for me to do before I get to leave at 5pm to sit in disgusting traffic to get home at 6pm with an even achier(sp?) back from sitting in my car. Fun stuff.
The life of a middle class suburban worker bee was just described above.
My life is SAD.
I SUCK
Monday, February 5, 2007
One Down.... How many more to go?
Saturday night we put a back up offer on a townhouse. It gave the original offer 24 hours to secure their financing. ON A SUNDAY. We thought we had it in the bag. Fortunately for them, they came through with financing and we lost the house.
Fuckers.
This Place was perfect. 1400 sq ft, 3 bedrooms, 2 1/2 bathrooms, a fucking soaker tub and walk in closet in the ensuite. Seriously, a DREAM KITCHEN, and an End-Unit. To even sweeten the pot, H lives just around the corner and she is to be my carpooler when we move to MR.
So back to drawing board
This bites.
*Colts rock*
Fuckers.
This Place was perfect. 1400 sq ft, 3 bedrooms, 2 1/2 bathrooms, a fucking soaker tub and walk in closet in the ensuite. Seriously, a DREAM KITCHEN, and an End-Unit. To even sweeten the pot, H lives just around the corner and she is to be my carpooler when we move to MR.
So back to drawing board
This bites.
*Colts rock*
Friday, February 2, 2007
...From the mouth of a babe...
...or fingers... or whatever. A little snippet from my anonymous friend JM *wink*.
**************************************************************
Now this is love. What is most amazing about this story is not that a 65 year old woman saved her 70 year old husband from being eaten by a mountain lion (!), but that the couple will celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary next month. By my numbers, that means they got married when he was 20 and she was 15. It could be argued that, presuming they dated before they were married, they’ve spent their entire emotionally and psychologically developed lives together. Holy fucking crap. My question: And she still wanted to save him from a mountain lion? I could see if they were on their honeymoon and still full of love, but after 50 years, I wouldn’t blame if she just watched the mountain lion going to town and said, "Eh, we had a good run." Hell, I can only date a girl for about two months before I stop opening doors for her or buying her surprise presents or kissing her before commencing intercourse. And she’s beating away a mountain lion with a four inch log (which, as any of my ex’s can tell you, is not very long)? I guess true love does exist. (And four inches is fine. Just fine. Have another drink and you won’t feel anything anyway, you judger, you.)
**********************************************************
I can easily argue that this man is probably the funniest 'writer' (I say that because I have not met him and dont want to say he is funny in PERSON without any evidence. You know, protecting myself and shit). We talked back and forth on myspace a few times, then he got all weird and asked me to remove his monthly newspaper from my blog ( it WAS funny! hmmmph) and I never responded cause I am a chicken shit. But I Digress.... every so often I will probably post some snippets from his blog because it keeps me entertained, and I want to share that with YOU!
All in my head?
Heres a tip for all you men out there in a serious relationship (not marriage...yet).... DO NOT, and I repleat DO NOT in the middle of a 'disagreement' say 'Its all in your head'. Really, there isnt much more I can say on that... I am sure what I just wrote speaks volumes about the lack of sensitivity most men have when it comes to these 'disagreements' . You want to win? DON'T say that. Think it. Do not let the thought pass your lips. If we are to respect your feelings, you must do the same.
Done.
There are days when I think I should write a book about relationships, dating, how to cope, and how to survive. Then, I read THIS and realize that I am not really that creative and everything I can think of has been done already :) So who hands out the creativity bone when we are born? Cause I think we need to have a heart to heart.
To Trevor: I am sorry that I have bored you with my lack of posting. Unfortunately, my world does not revlove around you.
*Nadine is hot*
Done.
There are days when I think I should write a book about relationships, dating, how to cope, and how to survive. Then, I read THIS and realize that I am not really that creative and everything I can think of has been done already :) So who hands out the creativity bone when we are born? Cause I think we need to have a heart to heart.
To Trevor: I am sorry that I have bored you with my lack of posting. Unfortunately, my world does not revlove around you.
*Nadine is hot*
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