- I hung out with Bro a few weeks ago; a couple of us went over to his place after going out. It was there that I realized maybe he isn’t actually my type. He has over 1,000 porn movies in his collection. Now I have no issue with guys having some porn: magazines, a few DVDs, whatever. When you have two ginormous CD cases full of every porn imaginable, you might have a problem. And I might get an inferiority complex…NEXT!
- Remember when I burnt my arm? I have this scar on my arm that I wish I could get rid of. Does anyone know the best way to get rid of a scar? I’ve head of using Vitamin E among other things, any success stories?
- I met a new dude that I’ve been on a couple dates with. He’s cute though ten years older then me, he has a good job and actually calls when he says he will. I’m not going to say too much since I always jinx things like this!
- I helped my dad pack and move a bunch of stuff this morning. My parents have lived there since I was a baby so it was strange to be pulling out all his stuff from the crawl-space and taking down the paintings that are his. It’ll be a weird week.
- I had an interview last week that I thought went really well, but the girl I’d be working closely with is actually my friend PartyGirl. Maybe the interviewer thought it was a negative that we’re friends? I’m not sure what went wrong.
That pretty much sums up my last two weeks, hopefully as soon as all this snow melts I’ll be in better spirits and writing more!
See, I’ve been sent a very special personal invitation to join Donald Trump himself at a very exciting seminar held right here in Calgary. Not only was I personally invited but I received 2 complimentary VIP tickets. That’s right bitches, Don and I are tight like that.
Apparently I’m going to learn about property investment and how to be a Real Estate mogul. It’ll even teach me how to be my own boss Forever.
Now, the card only had a small sample of all the great things I’ll be learning but it does put emphasis on the fact that (and I quote): “This is what I have learned the hard way, in the streets, fighting to grow my empire and fighting to stay on top“
I’m not really sure what kinds of things you learn on the streets of Park Avenue but I’m sure it’ll be very eye-opening.
I’m pretty sure the signature is authentic and the card is hand-signed, after all what better things could he possibly be keeping busy with?
Don’t worry, I won’t forget about you while I’m off living my lavish lifestyle and making millions simply by looking at buildings.
I’m sort of freaking out right now. My boss gets back from vacation tomorrow and I need to have two weeks worth of stuff to tell him that I did, when in reality my days went something like this:
8 am – Get coffee
8:14 – Check email, facebook and sign into MSN
8:49 – Read some blogs
11:10 – Refill coffee
11:13 – chat with sister on MSN
11:54 – Write blog entry
12:23 – Lunch
1:09 – Check mail, sign invoices
1:27 – Read some blogs
1:58 – Check on New Girl, make sure she’s working and understands stuff
2:14 – Type letter for Land department, fax and send hard copy
3:27 – Check dating website for daily laugh
4:01 – Move papers around on desk to look like progress is being made
4:06 – Chat with sister some more
5:00 – Home time
I have our company golf tournament in three weeks. I have yet to send out the invitations although I’m thinking this might work:
Sure, they have some strict deadlines and I’m sure some jackass somewhere asking them to get a package from New York to Antarctica in nine and a half minutes, but really, the rest of the time they sit out in the sun, watching women in business suits walk by, smoking cigarettes and possibly some doobs.
That’s why I get utterly mystified when my courier packages go inexplicably missing, and the courier I call to ask about it sounds like the world is caving in underneath him so he has no time to look for it now but he’ll call me back. Which he obviously never does.
If there were a horror movie based around missing packages, I would be the star – especially if said packages were actually legal letters involving millions of dollars potentially incoming to The Company. The plot would go something like this:
A hard-working girl trying to make it big within The Company always takes the necessary precautions to send deliveries promptly – even marking a big red RUSH on each important envelope. A crazed letter-hungry thief stalks each courier that has the girl’s letters and takes out vengeance upon them. Crazed guy turns out to be her boss’s old assistant, fired for stealing paperclips and toilet paper; now out for revenge. There would be some sort of secondary plotline involving a love story or possibly a plan to take over the world.
So this morning, I hand-delivered a Very Important Letter to avoid any risk of it being lost. Somehow a package was delivered to this same address last week, signed for and everything. However, no one at that company recognizes the signature. Nor can the letter be found. My plotline isn’t too far off I tell you.
Anyhow, walking over there, through the Plus 15*, I discovered one of the greatest joys of having long hair ever: a wind tunnel. Obviously I had to stop and make Marilyn-esque poses. For half an hour.
Don’t you worry; the package did eventually get there and yet again the heroine** saved the day. Now excuse me while I go fix my hair.
[Update: I just got to walk through the wind tunnel again in search of a garbage can (I’m an integral part of the team). The average price of garbage cans at The Bay is $147.99. Seriously for $147.99 my garbage can had better compact my garbage, take it to the dumpster and give me a massage when it gets back. Who the hell pays $147.99 for a garbage can? No wonder they sold the company.]
*Equivalent to a Skywalk. Otherwise known as a gerbil-tunnel that connects one building to another in the downtown core, 15 feet above the ground
** Not to be confused with the drug heroine – which I’m sure has not saved many a day, rather made many a day much, much worse. But I digress.
I’m working on the ol’ resume. No, I’m not planning on leaving my day job anytime soon, I have it pretty good here. It’s my part time job that is starting to drive me crazy (see the ridiculousness here). I love serving, don’t get me wrong – I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t because I don’t need to.
I just know it’s time to leave a place when I start dreading having to even enter the code at the back door to get in and start my shift. And I don’t just dread it because my memory friggin sucks and I can never remember the stupid code.
Anyway, while updating (read: embellishing) my resume I started thinking about resumes in general. If I was honest my resume would look something like this:
03/2007 – Present
The Oil Company I Work For
Exec Ass’t & Office Admin
– Delegating responsibility to my underling
– Writing Blog entries
– Dealing with whiney sarcastic jerks at phone/xerox/computer companies
– Trying to appease 5 bosses
– Writing letters, filing letters, signing letters, posting letters, assigning letter-writing to others, responding to letters, stacking letters, unstacking letters
10/2006 – Present
The Restaurant I Serve At
– Seeing how many wine glasses I can carry in one hand without dropping any (I’m up to 9)
– Chatting with hostesses in hopes they will seat my section when I am bored
– Making fun of guests in the service alley
– Telling new people to find something (like a bacon-stretcher) in the basement. There is no basement. There is no bacon-stretcher.
– Flirting with cute co-workers/managers/guests
10/2007 – Present: Chair of Oil Company Charity Committee (pick random charities, give them company money)
07/2006 – Present: Global Parent, Unicef (give them money)
1998-2006 – Bingo/Casino (was forced to do this for extracurricular activities)
2001 – Bilingual Debate Tournament Judge (received desperately needed bonus marks in Social Studies)
1995 – 1999: SPCA (got to play with dogs and skip church on occasion)
Summary of Qualifications
– Demonstrated excellent hand-eye coordination
– Prone to make others look superior
– Ability to deal with aforementioned whiney, sarcastic jerks
– Happily find ways to rid you of hard-earned money via charity organisations
– Superior winking, giggling & eyelash-batting skills
Each week, on Monday, I have a meeting with my boss. He is the Vice-President of the company so it can be slightly intimidating. I have to bring with me a report detailing what I completed the previous week as well as any outstanding projects, the details of what I am working on, and anything else that I may happen to be doing.
Most weeks I have a nice, long task list (thank you Outlook) all check-marks and “waiting on someone else”‘s filled in nicely. Some weeks the list is longer then others. For last week my list currently looks like this:
– Proposal for Golf Tournament (In Progress)
– Fix Mr. W’s Chair (Waiting on Someone Else)
– Confirm Wine Sponsorship (Complete)
– Vacation Request (New Girl) (Complete)
– Vacation Request (Me) (Complete)
I have to meet with him in T minus one hour. Must find busy work.
Every office has a few “stereotypical” charactors. At least all of the offices I’ve worked in do (that would be two offices total…yup, expert over here). One such person is the bitter, practically retired, single older woman (usually an AA or EA or secretary).
I was lucky enough to have this stereotype as my assistant in my first office job ever (I kid you not. Can we say awkward?) That lasted all of three months. And me thinking “wow is this what working in an office is like? No thanks”. She could complain about anything and everything and she DID. Things you wouldn’t even think made a difference in anyone’s life, she would complain about. For example there was a paperclip on the floor one time and she went on and on about how the cleaners must not be doing their jobs and I should write them a letter etc.
Then they fired her and all was good in the world.
Anyway, now at my job the Presidents assistant is this exact woman reincarnate. Only worse I think. She treats everyone in a “lower position” as if they are the dumbest person she’s ever been unfortunate enough to encounter. It’s not what she says it’s how she says it.
“Oh. Well it would have been REALLY great if you could have let me KNOW”
Look, just because you are unhappy with the way your life turned out; stuck in the same job you started in, only with a glorified title and extra “busy” work; never got married because you were above all that; can’t believe you never took that trip/bought that house/took that job/risk; just because you have to point out flaws in others to be able to ignore the flaws in yourself; just because you are going to be alone, miserable and bitter for the rest of your life; it does not make it okay to make everyone else’s lives miserable.
Thank you. I’m done.
So I went to a luncheon yesterday to see the Premier speak. Nevermind the fact that I stuck out like a sore thumb (read: young, blonde wearing a royal blue sweater dress amongst the dozens of grey-haired Suits and the odd (older) woman sprinkled in for effect), poor Eddie doesn’t have a clue. Um, Eddie is the Premier of Alberta – in case I lost you there. He honestly should have an ear piece feeding him what to say. Among his many gems during the Q & A :
- “We had many meetings in regards to that. I went to a lot of meetings, but I didn’t go to a lot of meetings” (translation: “those meetings are fucking boring, who actually pays attention?”)
- “Well if you can wait a couple months, ‘so-and-so’ is doing a talk on that coming up very soon” (translation: “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about. I think Pete may have mentioned that at some point in time”)
- When asked about which historical data he is using for planning the budget, pertaining to the oil sands, he somehow managed to talk for ten minutes about ring-roads, schooling and health care by the end of which everyone had just forgotten what the question was in the first place.
At least the steak was good.