I Like the Beeswax.

This weekend I lost every single Chapstick that I own even the emergency back ups.

(No thank you drunken nights.)

Already about to swipe my credit card at the grocery store today I remembered and grabbed the closest stick of anti-chapped lips in arms reach.

If you work in an office you know: lunchtime is crunchtime, no time to go gallavanting around the store -in heels, no less

It happened to be a 3 dollar stick of Burts Bees Beeswax Lip Balm. 3 dollars! For chapstick. My usual Cherry Chapstick is about a buck, maybe 2. We're in a recession! My hours are cut! I can get THREE Cherry Chapsticks for that!

All I could do was sigh, swipe and get back to work. (Chapped lips are not to be ignored.) (And Solitaire awaits me.)

The Beeswax of Burt lived up to it's hype. I'm a fan.

One sweep of the lips and my lips were cool and fresh and soft.

Good job Burt. Your Beeswax is good.

I just spent $40 in iTunes, $40 get my car wash/waxed but 3 dollar chapstick, I call an outrage!

I may need to rethink my priorities...or maybe I just need a drink.

A Mango Cadillac Margarita (slushy style cuz it's a hot day) from El Torito is what I was really wanting for lunch today. No chips 'n salsa for me. Just the drink please.

They really should have To Go cups.

Or I can pour the Marggey in a Big Gulp Cup, it would totally pass as a Slurpee.

Maintaining Sanity at the Workplace.

I got "randomly picked" to do receptionist duties at the end of the day today. I suddenly feel inadequate for the job. I do not wear red lipstick. My credit cards are not maxed out. Maybe I can make up for that by chewing gum loudly, twirling my hair and gossiping on the phone. (And it took me 3 tries to spell "maxed", oddly, there is no "k" or "c". I think I'm getting the [stereotypical] receptionist bug) And I'd have to make up the gossip since I'm listening to:

Biggie, Biggie can't you see sometimes your words just Hypnotize me....

What? I saw the movie last week. I can't help it. (BTW: Good movie.)

Movies inspire me. Kill Bill - Samurai Warrior. Marley & Me - I want a dog. Notorious - a Rapper. Gran Torino - for a week I aspired to be an old, grumpy, racist and super tough white guy. Madagascar....well, you get it. I digress.

So....Biggie is hypnotizing me, not the office gossip. (A girls gotta protect her sanity.) (Thank you iPhone and all your fantasmal apps) Well, not so much gossip as the idiotic/ridiculous conversations that happen. (Although, they are pretty amusing at times, I typically drown them out with music.)

Like any office we have some characters up in here.

Like the 24 year old who acts like he's 9 and goes around the office telling us about his DRAMATIC girlfriend seeking advice (that he never follows). The hyper (donut & cookie loving) Philipino man (I only say that cuz he has an accent) everyweek it seems he has a new thing (photography, a car, computer, biking....).

The dude obsessed with WhereWolves. No joke. Obsessed. 14 years (and counting) of dressing up as a wherewolve and haunting at Knott's Scary Farm, he uses ALL of his vacation time for this particular event. (To work for min. wage, no less.) He legally made his middle name Wolf. His Cubie-wherewolves everywhere. RingTone-Howling. Wherewolf T-shirt EVERYday (even if it's under a button up shirt). Obsessed.

Characters.

You can imagine the off the wall conversations that take place here at the workplace. But no juice. (You can only listen to biking stories and girlfriend drama for so long. That's bicycle BTW.)No interoffice romances, behind the scenes sexscapades or anything of that nature going on. No bickering/catfights like I hear about going on in other offices. This ain't no hen house. (Thank Gawd!) Just bullshit. Idiots here. Ridiculousness there. Drink, sleep, repeat.

Unemployment: Do It Right!

As far as I know, we are in a recession and gads of people are losing their jobs. In fact, I know quite a few people who have already lost their job and from what I hear there are more to come. (Make me proud, Obama, turn it around. My 401k is supposed to grow. GROW-as in get Bigger!)

So, riddle me this Batman.

Why is there so much traffic?

(Like how that has to do with Obama and 401k? Me too.)

Going to work: Traffic.

Lunchtime: Traffic.

After work: Traffic.

Traffic. Traffic. Traffic.

Where are these people going? (Hint: Not to work.) Why are they driving on the freeway at the same time as me? They have no right! They are rightless!

Me. Employed. I have the right to drive during peak hours. (The Right!)

(Except on Mondays.)

Stores don’t even open until 9, so where are you going, anyway? In fact, you probably shouldn’t be shopping either. Unemployment only pays a maximum of 90 bucks a day (in California). Just go to Costco and stock up on Top Ramen (and booze). Stop making me all road ragey, you traffic inducers, you!

Get off the freeway! Get on the internet. Start submitting your resume on Monster or CareerBuilder so you can complain with me. Be on my team!

(Or send me funny e-mails, clearly you junk e-mailers are the laid off ones; as Forwards filling up my inbox to the point of annoyment has become a thing of the past.)

(Funny is key. I don't want to pray or cry at work, I do enough of that due to the fact that I'm here at work-nothing more, nothing less. Work is over-rated. But then there are paychecks and it all comes full circle. Point: Gimme a laugh. A good Hardey Har-Har.)

Whatever you do, don't get on the freeway.

Driving wastes gas.

Gas cost money.

Money grows on trees.

No wait, that's not right.

(I did have a dream though. I was a farmer. It was nice.)

So Money...oh, forget it.

If you are not employed, there is absolutely no reason (What. So. Ev-ar!) for you to be on the freeway. Your days should be like this: from 7am to 8am you should be sleeping. From 12pm to 1pm you should be in your PJ's watching daytime TV. By 5pm you should be drunk because this is how you cope with not having a job and daytime TV sucks. Shower. Sleep. Repeat.

(Drinking helps to cope with working too.) (Go figure.)

(Hey, I don't make the rules; I just--oh. I DO make the rules...but I can. I have a blog.)

Back to daydreaming...

\end rant.

2009 Trends stay the same...

A week and a half off work and now I'm back! No wait- who put that exclamation point there? Really, it's a sad face and a cry out for some drink! (Spike my Starbucks with Baileys please. Thanks.) (They really should sell shots of Baileys though, right!) Today is actually day 2 at work. I was here yesterday but I wasn't here yesterday, y'knowat am sayin'?

I was hoping (kinda-resolutions…) that I would come back to the office and a mountain of sweets to climb would await me upon my return to the IceCubey to help me cope. Sure enough it was Everest but with twice the cold and minus the sweet mountains. So I guess it is more Antarctica than Everest.

Clearly, the cold has affected my ability to think properly. But I can type with gloves like a Champ! Oh yeah and my floor heater died. I [repress bad memories and] forgot all about work [as soon as I walked out the door] (coulda been the copious amounts of wine too-either way.) and my dire need to buy a new floor heater.

IceCubey – 2, S. – -5 and [frozen] solid.

I'm considering changing the name of this blog to "The Little Eskimo" (nickname at home) or "Hell Froze Over, I'm in It" or "Typing With Gloves" or "Brrrrrrr!" or "Warm and Fuzzy Don't Live Here" or "FrostBitten and Bitching" or "Fighting the Frost. & Losing." or "Fu-fu-fu freezing" or "The Cold is My Kryptonite" or something….but maybe (please, Please, Pleeeeeeze!!!) things will change in the summertime? (I'm wishin. And hopin'. And prayin'.)

I did get my Christmas wish though! We've had the heater since Christmas Eve (at home)! Yay! AND I got a new blanket. So (at 74) I'm no longer wearing a beanie and gloves but I AM still wearing 2 pairs of pants plus knee high socks and a pullover a longsleeve shirt to bed. I'm pretty sure I'm cold blooded.

My New Years was awesome though. Hit up a couple of parties. Our designate [*cough* *cough* drunk] driver got lost. Maybe she was feeling lady luck on her side because we was headed toward the casino. Between us and the casino-(dark) desert; and after the casino-(dark) desert. (She caught on and found her way- no casino. More wine money for us!)

But then there was the spilling,

(I need to invest in a sippy cup.)

I did not fall.

I did not puke.

I spilled.

I even spilled (red wine) on my friends shirt. He now has a red nipple on his blue shirt. He wasn't drunk enough to go with my foresight that it would be the new trend of 2009. Nor was he for my idea to spill red wine

all over to make the rest of the shirt the same.

His loss. You just wait. It's gonna be a trend. I'm convinced. (I convinced myself.)

Beds Got a Hold On Me Now

MISSION: Sleep In My Own Bed, last night seemed an Impossible feat last night and now it is 6 in the morning and time to get up for work and I able to sleep now. Probably until a good and healthy 10 o'clock. ('good and healthy' only because I would be getting more than 4 hours sleep)

I don't wanna go to work. (wah!)

The snooze at this point is even scary, I'm pretty sure if I close my eyes again I will sleep through EVERYTHING, a marching band can march their marchety marching asses through my room and I would sleep like a baby, all snug as a bug in a rug.

*le sigh*

Okay, 'nuff o the stalling. Paychecks.

There is money that needs to be made and bills to be paid.

S.

Sent from my [naked] iPhone

Wait-Is this BAD news? You're sure?

The company is cutting back. In a meeting yesterday we were informed that wages will be cut and yada-yada there will be cutbacks (just short of bringing your own TP to work).

WAIT! Hold the phones! WAGE CUTBACKS?! GTFO. The room is closing in on me.

Lucy! You got som splaining to do!!!

The company will be closing down for the holidays (From noon on Christmas Eve to the 5th of January) we will only be getting paid for the 2 holidays and can use our PTO time if we choose to do so.

Bad news? Sure my paycheck will not see 44 hours of pay. But it's all sunshine, sleeping in and silverlining from my starry eyed perspective. VACATION!!!! Yes. Pleze. Totally worth it.

He continues...workshare program. This is where our work week is cut to 32 hours a week. That's one day off everyweek. 3. DAY. WEEKEND!!! Woot! Woot!! Hello Peepole, this should have been done long ago! Really though. 5 days of work and 2 measley days off. Who's the stupid who came up with that Bad Idea? In yo face sucka! 4 days now. 3 days to play!

But that's not all. On that one day of the week that we are off. We get to collect unemployment. Sure, 8 hours of unemployment is less than 8 hours of work. But TOTALLY worth it! Did I mention that we'll be getting 3 days off a week? Just checking.

So after that terrible news I was smiling and skipping back to my desk from the meeting while the rest of my coworkers carried confused faces. I'm the math genius of the bunch. Clearly.

3 days off 32 and then a little hours of pay > 40 hours of cubey time.

No contest.

Closet Blogging

Everyday I go to work. I have an [un]exciting job. My daily highlights are e-mailing KOAM (self proclaimed King of all Mexicans--he nicknamed himself) & Dodger Drinks-a-ton and reading blogs. They're not men of many words. They e-mail me like a sentence or so and I reply back with a full (colorful) paragraph of purely random ridiculousness (complete with my own crazy-creation background). This (and Tapatio) is what spices up my day. I'm exciting.

KOAM started a blog in which he will blog his journey "from fat to fit" and going for his dream of fighting in the MMA. I'm the encourager. He asked me to write his About Me section and he also wants me to post 2-3 blogs a month on his blog. Done and done. I'm honored.

I ask him his progress on the blogging all the time. I recommend blogs to him. We talk blog. I encourage. Except now he has this crazy idea that I should start a blog.

No, crazy boy.

I'm a closet blogger. I'm keeping it that way!

Granted, should he stumble upon my blog, it's not so anonymous. But I still refuse to TELL him about it. I'm embarrassed or something. I don't really have good reason. He has this crazy idea that "it would be so interesting to read through your everyday life". He's trying to have me believe that I'm a good writer and I'm interesting. Sadly, Notsomuch. But he's a good friend.

That's what good friends do, they encourage (and lie to you to pump you up).

I didn't even start this blog with the intention of it being public. I started it because I just like to write and this way if I have internet access then I've got a place to lay down some thoughts (or rants & raves) so all I need is my trusty iPhone and I don't have to carry around a journal and pen. The public thing happened by accident. I set the availability to private and somehow it publicized itself. Leading me to believe that there is a ghost in my computer. Or maybe it's an omen or (dare I say it) a user error? (NO!) I'm going ghost. A cute one, like Casper.

I don't like lying but I really am very self conscious about my bloggy (I like using the word blog. Bloggy. Bloggish. Bloggity.) ways. So until he stumbles upon this piece of work and calls me out. I'm a closet blogger.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

(I just like saying that)