The other day, I moved to a new office. Why is that so exciting? I felt like a kid in grade school on those last couple of days before summer vacay when we didn't have to do any classroom work. Instead we were sent to school with a 4-pack of S.O.S. steel wool cleaning pads to clean our desks. Thinking back now, is that just a Catholic school thing? Really? We washed our own desks? But anyway, afterwards, your desk was like new again - sparkly and empty. It was a clean slate and almost made you excited for the next school year.
So I moved offices down the hall and I got all "new" furniture. OK, let's say "different" furniture. Furniture that, hopefully, had nine inches of dust on it because nobody had used it in years. I would hate to think a colleague of mine could actually work at a desk that dirty. Seriously, no need for a notepad as you could write notes with your fingers in the accumulated dust.
I got my computer and everything moved over and I started to get all set up. First thing was to clean off the disgusting desk. I started to wipe it down when I realized it was actually difficult for me to reach across the entire depth of the desk. I was on my tip toes stretching across to cover the whole surface. I stepped back and realized that I was given the most enormous desk I had ever seen. It took me, like, an hour and a half to wipe down the whole thing. Like this desk is FREAKISHLY huge. I put all my stuff on it and each piece - computer, keyboard, phone, etc. - looked like a tiny dot on the massive square footage of my desk. So, I spread the stuff out of bit to try and disguise its vastness. I sat down to take a test drive and couldn't reach my keyboard or see my computer screen. After pulling those closer to me, the phone rang. I had to stand up in order to reach it!
A few people - those people who can't stay at their desks during any sort of commotion in the office; they have to be involved in everything - even made comments about my desk and how odd it looks because it's so big. I'm kind of embarrassed. Why did I get this desk? Is it some sort of statement about my work habits? Are they thinking a bigger desk = more work? Is it a nod to the sloppiness of my former desktop? Are they giving me more space to pile crap? Because quite frankly, the large empty surface is distracting to me, as it is apparently to others in the office who keep stopping by to check out the giant monstrosity that is my work space. This desk is like the biggest spectacle in the office since we got the fancy new coffee machine.
Come on, is it really THAT big?
So, you already know how jacked up I get when people leave leftovers in the company kitchen. It's really gross and stinky food that only the weirdos from accounts payable actually eat. And then, in the end, it becomes the misfortune of the housekeeping staff to scrape all that crap in the garbage. Yet, every day, there are new "community treats."
Case in point. Look what someone left in the lunch room today. An afternoon snack up for grabs for some lucky ...
CRACKER EATER! Really? Is the economy so bad now that we need to pass off saltines as real food? Don't get me wrong, I love saltines with soup, but once the soup is gone, nobody just eats the plain cracker, thus why it's left over. Saltines are like a condiment. What's next? Is someone going to leave a half-eaten pouch of ketchup on the table and pass it off as leftover spaghetti?
"When was the last time you were at a wedding that had a death defying hike, rogue waves, a luau, ultimate fighting, a presidential candidate and a budding bromance?" asks Papi Chulo. For most of us, the answer is never, but luckily, Papi Chulo and Secret Agent Scotch took the time to Vox all the amazing moments during their unforgettable Hawaiian wedding on 08.08.08 so we could all take part in the festivities.
The story began last February, when Papi Chulo popped the question and Secret Agent Scotch said yes! Since then, they've kept us in the loop about all the details, from the bride's veil to the wedding song to the final To-Do List. And throughout it all, they inspired us with their love for each other. (I'm pretty sure it doesn't get any better than knowing your future husband thinks you are The Perfect Girl.)
It's an amazing love story and we are thrilled they shared it with us. Watch the video of the ceremony and please join us in wishing Papi Chulo and Secret Agent Scotch the fairytale ending they deserve.
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Can't get enough of the wedding? A few lucky Voxers - Krissy, djchall, and Beau Smith - made the trip to Hawaii to take part in the celebration. Check out their Vox blogs for more pictures and stories.
Congratulations again to Secret Agent Scotch and Papi Chulo! Enjoy the Honeymoon!
Well, it's a good day for me New York City! My boy has followed me! I knew he wouldn't leave me!
After many, many, many decades of my life, this might be the first year I'm NOT going to be a Green Bay Packers fan. GB CAN SUCK IT!!
Go Jets!
OMG! I kid! I take it back! Of course I still love my Packers, but now I have a local team to root for, too.
I think standing on NYC public transportation should be banned and here's why ...
Take a look at my view as I rode to work today on the bus. I was fortunate enough to get a seat, although it was one of those weird ones that faces the ailse so you're pretty much riding sideways. I do like riding the bus (much more than the subway) because there are those giant windows to look out of, unless something (like a giant ass) is blocking your view.
Here's giant ass number one. And mind you, I did not zoom in on any of these photographs, this is really how close someone's ass was to my face.
Finally, Hugh found a seat. It took the guy like 20 minutes of grunting and puffing for him to sit down as if it was the most excruciating thing he's ever done. Seriously, he was worn out from just sitting down!
Just as I thought I'd have a nice clear window view, more people boarded the bus ... and the ones with giant asses for some reason stood right in front of my face again! Really? It's 8:30 in the morning and this is what I have to look at?
Luckily, bold print lady got off within one stop. That's right, apparently she can't walk one block. And as if it was some sort of practical joke, another giant ass took her place! How can that be?! Three giant asses in my face one after the other during a single bus ride? Well, it's true. Or I could just be some sort of freak who randomly photographs people's butts.
Finally, all the giant asses got off the bus or at least out of my face, and I thought I was in the clear. Until this weird guy came up. Seriously, look at the angle of this picture taken from where I was sitting. Nobody should be standing so close and on top of you that you can see up their nose! I was never so uncomfortable! I tried kicking him with my feet thinking he'd get the hint and back off, but no, he continued to "hang" over me. (I hate when bus riders do the two-handed hanging hold on the ceiling bar. One hand only! Stop touching everything with all your hands, and back off!) He was so on top of me that his nostril breathing kept blowing up my bangs.
I need a car.
Speaking of Friday fish fry and dicks, what the hell is going on up in Wisconsin with the asshole Green Bay Packers' management? Welcome our boy back!! Is it because I live in NYC now that I'm one of the only GB fans who still wants Favre back?
What's wrong with all these idiots in Wisconsin? Have they finally eaten too much cheese? Have they finally realized that drinking four cases of Old Milwaukee PER PERSON in one sitting really isn't something to brag about? Have they finally cut their mullets and straightened their 80s hair? Has the world of Wisconsin as we know it disappeared?
If for no other reason, all you Wisconsin fuckers should be lobbying to get Favre back just so your wardrobe consisting solely of Brett Favre clothing won't become outdated. What are you going to do with all those ill-fitting Brett Favre jerseys that proudly display your giant beer guts? What will you wear to church? Admit it! Nothing else matches your pleated, high-waisted khakis with brown faux leather braided belt better!
Oh, it's a sad day in Wisconsin when Brett Favre isn't welcomed back!
Stopped by my favorite Irish pub Friday afternoon and ordered up their house special Fish 'n Chips. Um, never seen a fish shaped like this. Seriously, someone needs to tell me where I can swim with these penis shaped fish! It's about time I get out of my dry spell!
Remember that bitch who auctioned off a cornflake that she claimed looked like Illinois? How much would I get for this hunk of fish?!? Come on! I'm going to be rich again!
From Memorial Day to Labor Day, our office implements "summer Fridays" where we get to leave at 2 p.m. It often involves people leaving the office and going straight to the bar. A couple of times, though, I've gone with a colleague of mine to "the country" in New Jersey so she can get organic veggies. The pickup spot for the food is in a quaint neighborhood with older houses surrounded by grass and trees and rows of shaped bushes. I actually enjoy going along because next door to the organic veggie house, I can pet and play with Rocky.
Rocky is a horse who lives in a yard! It's true! No field. No stables. Nothing! It's like when I was little and I wanted a pony and I told my parents we could keep it in the backyard. How does a horse live in a yard?
Here's Rocky posing in front of the house.
Here Rocky is with the traffic at the intersection in the background.
I guess it's good at least that it's a corner lot. Am I crazy? Or is it really weird to have a horse in your backyard? Nevertheless, Rocky is awesome. He's super friendly and very outgoing. I suppose he has learned to be that way standing on display in the middle of the road!
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-daisy
You know my feelings about the bullshit corporate world. The posers spouting off meaningless jargon because they think it makes them sound smart. The pointless meetings during which nothing is ever accomplished. The endless discussions about subjects that really have no bearing on real life as we know it, yet after the mindnumbing debate, decisions are never made.
It just hit me as I walked down the street today ... there IS a job worse than mine!
The only thing I couldn't decide is which would be worse - being the humiliated, yet hidden, guy in the chicken suit OR the chump who has to stand next to him and shove fliers in people's faces. Look how flier guy tries to act like he's not with the chicken - "I don't know what this giant chicken is doing! I'm just minding my own business handing out these fliers for a chicken restaurant!"
Clearly, this sort of marketing tactic is lost on New Yorkers as they don't even seem to notice the 9-foot, blindingly yellow chicken and nobody EVER takes the fliers! Even from the most aggressive pushers. I've seen people run away from the flier guy. I'll actually cross the street to avoid him! Yeah, that's all l need is another thing to hold on to as I lug around my laptop, purse, Starbucks, phone, umbrella, etc.
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