Coffee Table Declarations
Wednesday, April 30, 2003
Meetings are not my thing. Not by any means. In fact, the idea of sitting in a room listening to someone talk for an indefinate amount of time can actually start to make me feel a bit panicky and claustrophobic. However, an hour and a half meeting was just what I had to endure this morning. I was "invited" to this meeting under the guise of it being a "breakfast" given by the CEO so coworkers could "get to know each other". In actuality it was a forum for the CEO to talk about herself for a good long time while we all listened politely. To be fair, what she was saying was somewhat interesting and the food was good. However, it soon became apparent to me that my chair was broken. It was your standard office chair with a lever to adjust the seat height. Well, as it turns out, every so often I started to slide ever so slightly downward, much to my surprise. So, by the end of the meeting I was sitting about 3 feet lower than I was at the beginning. I'm glad the meeting ended when it did because I was afraid I was going to end up sitting on the floor.
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
Right now there is a party going on in my midst. In actuality it is a reception for a particular project team here that handles one of our biggest accounts. I saw a cheese platter go by. I can hear voices and laughter down the hall. And I think they're even having beer and wine. That's o.k., I didn't really want to be invited. But that cheese platter just looked so appetizing.

* * * * *

On my walk today I saw a couple of notable things. I didn't plan to be strolling past the local middle school at the exact time that school gets out, but somehow, that's the kind of timing I have. I saw a kid with a mohawk of dramatic proportions, the likes of which I haven't seen since the late 80's. This thing was shellacked into green and purple spikes. I didn't know whether to applaud his expression of individuality or to wonder about the judgement of which ever parent or guardian approved of this hairdo. I mean not to sound like such an adult, but the kid's in middle school for goodness sake.

The other thing I found slightly amusing was a large full color map of Iraq plastered in a shop window. I didn't notice what kind of shop it was as I walked by. Hopefully not a travel agency.
Monday, April 28, 2003
I'm really big on walking to places lately. I don't know why it seems like the coolest thing to have places to walk to from my apartment. I feel like I live in the big city! (But really, I so do not live in the big city.) This weekend I walked to a carnival down the street and all the while I was there I kept thinking, "how cool is it that I walked here?!"

I grew up in a residential neighborhood with nothing good to walk to. But I had this friend in my early high school years who lived around the corner from a movie theater. It was one of those old theaters where the movies are cheaper and they serve ice cream in the lobby. The funnest thing in those days would be sleeping over her house and walking to the theater for a movie and ice cream and then walking back all by ourselves. Sometimes we even met boys for "dates". Those were innocent times.

Anyway, I went for a walk today and a couple of strange things occured. The first was a teenage boy walking toward me holding a bag of the type I guess you would call a "potato sack" over his shoulder. He was grinning wildly to himself - I know he wasn't grinning wildly at me because he was looking off to the side as if sharing an inside joke with an imaginary friend. Before our paths crossed he ducked into a building and I noticed that written on his bag were the words "Property of Columbia".

I continued on my way and struck up a conversation with a police woman at an intersection where I needed to cross. All of a sudden, as she was in mid sentence, she yelled at some guy driving the wrong way down a one way road. It was funny because she's like "yes the weather really is gorgeous... WRONG WAY!!!... especially after the winter we've had." That cracked me up.
Saturday, April 26, 2003
I hate feeling uncomfortable in my own space. I'd like to think I'm a better person than that. I'd like to think I don't worry the way I do or personalize everything. I'd like to think I can top off a rainy, confrontational day with an evening of indifference. Really, all I wanted to do tonight was lounge around in my pj's and watch a movie. (Yes that's my idea of a relaxing Saturday night and yes I feel old when Saturday nights have become time to relax instead of party.) Right now, I want nothing more than that and maybe a rasberry turnover - found in your grocer's freezer, these delicious delicacies (is that repetative? delicious delicacies??) are well worth the almost hour it takes to make them (20 minutes preheating the oven, 20 - 25 for baking, and at least 15 minutes for cooling unless you enjoy getting third degree burns on your tounge from the flaming hot filling). I don't want to waste this precious evening alone by listening to the same music, thinking the same thoughts, and going around and around the same circles. Why does every weekend lately seem so full of drama?
The colors on my work computer are way off. I notice when I go on the same websites at home that they are completely different colors than I thought they were. I wonder what colors everyone sees when they read my blog? Anyway, I got a new computer at work yesterday finally. I say "new" but don't get excited. It's not like my computer at home that has like, a thousand different possible desktop backgrounds and spider solitaire. I love spider solitaire but I hate how games - anything from board games to video games - are so addictive. I find a new game I like and suddenly that's all I can think about for days.

Anyway, my old work computer, seemingly from years and years of people saving everything they ever did on it, had absolutely no free space in the memory. If I got an email with an attachment, I literally had to delete documents people had saved years ago in order to open the attachment. So I got a new computer that I can fill up all by myself with whatever I want. No more carrying around other people's baggage for me. What's weird is that I didn't realize it was actually possible to fill up an entire computer. Sort of like it's not possible to visit every website because the internet is so vast. Although I once saw a commercial where a guy did just that. What the commercial was for, I don't remember. That's effective advertising for you.

As for the color, I knew for quite some time that my work computer's colors were too dark. But somehow I just got used to it. Now suddenly my monitor has been reset and I feel like I need sunglasses to look at it. It's funny how a little thing like that can cause such disruption in one's life.
Friday, April 25, 2003
Ouch! My arm hurts. I've been sealing envelopes for some gigantic mailing. I have to pause here however, to comment on a wonderful little tool known as an envelope moistener pen. For those who don't know, it's a clear tube you can fill with water that has a little sponge on the end. It sure is one of the more logical inventions of the twentieth century. I know I would not be about to lick 200 plus envelopes.

Another modern wonder that I'm real excited about lately are the kitchen shears. I have recently become aware of all the various uses for kitchen shears such as cutting raw chicken. Can you imagine how much sillier it was back in the old days when a person would have to hold onto a piece of raw chicken and saw through it with a regular knife? How time consuming! How messy! This was actually the reason I avoided cooking with chicken for the last three years! Now, with a quick snip of the kitchen shears you can have instant chopped chicken and very minimal mess. Then you can drop your favorite utensil into the dishwasher.

I knew about kitchen shears in the past. I even had a pair. Except that I thought they were just, conveniently enough, a special pair of scissors for use in the kitchen. So I used my kitchen shears for such things as cutting open the frozen dinner packaging. To think I could have been eating neatly chopped chicken all along!
Thursday, April 24, 2003
Can I vent for a second? I just answered a call from a really nasty woman. She has some stock of ours and wanted to ask a question. I transferred her to our investor relations person, she got her voicemail, came back to me, and demanded to know why I'd transfer her to someone who wasn't there. I felt like saying I did it on purpose just to make her life difficult. Boy, people like that make me angry!

Wednesday, April 23, 2003
I'd like to speak for a moment about CVS. I think it's very convenient that CVS is a perfectly legitimate place to get prescriptions filled, but also an ideal place for purchasing say, a magazine, a beauty product, or a last minute gift. They even have groceries there, although I can't imagine that anyone does their entire weekly grocery shopping at CVS. Unless of course they subsist on canned soup, sugery fruit juice, and Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

I was browsing through the wide selection of cards at CVS one day last week and noticed that they most certainly do have a card for every occasion. Never before had I seen a card that read, "I was sorry to hear about your unfortunate accident. Hope your recovery is smooth" or something like that. Personally, I found that card to be a little grim and rather specific. I was just waiting to find one that said "I was sorry to hear about your troublesome mishap involving an electric razor."

O.K. so, last night I was right in the middle of making one of my fabulous gourmet recipes when I realized I was lacking two key ingredients. (You can't very well make macaroni & cheese without milk and butter.) Fortunately, I live within walking distance of a CVS. So, seeing as it was about 35 degrees outside and raining, I bundled up and headed out into the night. Much to my dismay, I arrived at CVS only to find them already closed at the early hour of 8:15! Since I was already cold and wet and by this time, quite hungry, I headed back past my apartment and got into the car for the short drive to Store 24, a place I can count on to always be open when I need it to be.

The mac & cheese turned out fine but I'm a little disappointed in CVS. Maybe someone will get me a card that says "I was sorry to hear about your ill-fated trip through the rainy night to a prematurely closed CVS."
I've noticed that my outer world is a direct reflection of my inner world. Usually, I'm very relaxed at work and for the most part, enjoy being here. Today, I just want out. Time isn't moving quick enough and I feel somewhat compelled to jump up from my chair and run out the door. That certainly is a weird feeling, not to mention a very uncomfortable one considering I have to fight it off and just sit here, whiling away the hours until I can go home. But going home isn't the answer either because I have a feeling I would be just as jumpy if I were home right now.

This is all a macrocosm of how I feel inside. I have this image of myself getting through right now (whatever period of time "right now" encompasses) by ducking my head and running to get out the other side. Kind of like a scene from any number of popular action movies where people find themselves fleeing through a tunnel which all the while is collapsing behind them. I guess that's the point - I can't go back because behind me is a pile of whatever the collapsed tunnel was composed of. Rocks and dirt maybe? It doesn't matter. What matters is, I can't go forward either. Right now, all I can do is stand still and hope that the tunnel doesn't collapse on top of me.
Tuesday, April 22, 2003
At this very moment there is a young man sitting in the lobby waiting to be interviewed. This misguided gentleman is wearing some kind of cheap cologne. I can tell you this despite the fact that he is across the room from me. I should also mention that he arrived in a leather jacket atop a cheap suit and it's raining out.

I enjoy the interview process from my vantage point. I certainly know the discomfort of being on the interviewee side of the fence, but this is something new. In fact, I've offered my initail impressions to HR so often that they now ask me what I think of each candidate who comes in. I've seen it all. There was the older lady whose hair was an unnatural shade of maroon who filled out her application with a pink-inked pen, instead of the standard blue we provide for just that purpose. There was the individual of ambiguous gender known by the ambiguous name of "Sam". There was the guy who showed up two hours early, asked if he could use the bathroom, then left and came back on time. I'm not making this stuff up.

I think it would be really funny to have a candid-camera type show where people pretend to be interview candidates and do things like show up in sweats or show up dressed appropriately, but in the middle of the interview, start answering questions in a funny voice or give answers that are completely the opposite of what you should say during an interview such as, Interviewer: "so, why did you leave your last job?" Interviewee on candid camera show: "actually, I was fired because they caught me photocopying my butt." And the whole point of this show would be to trick the interviewer and then at the end tell them they are on camera and it's all staged and everyone would laugh.

Actually, I can't take complete credit for this idea. Someone really clever assisted me in coming up with the candid-camera interview show back when I was going through the dreaded interview process. And the credit for the being-fired-for-photocopying-their-butt idea goes to a temp I worked with for a couple of days at my last company who actually admitted to me that this was the very reason he was currently doing temp work. But at least he wasn't wearing cheap cologne.
Monday, April 21, 2003
When will this day ever end??? I just want to go home. The more I'm left alone with my thoughts, the darker my outlook becomes and the worse I feel. I just want my life back... or should I say, what I thought my life was. Nevermind, I don't know what I want anymore. Except sleep. Sleep would be great right now.
I can pinpoint the exact moment my weekend jumped the shark.
Yesterday I drove to Connecticut and back for Easter at my aunt's house. I'd like to point out that I love my car, I really do. But that being said, there are a couple of... well... issues.

For one thing, my cruise control has stopped working for some reason so I couldn't rest my leg for the entire two hour ride. Also, my tape player broke long ago and I don't have a cd player. I had a big tape player in the back seat which I used to make mix tapes for from all my cds, but the batteries died. I was doing o.k. for a while with my radio's scan button but it seems like I can never find a good radio station once I enter Connecticut. And for some reason it seems that every single time I'm driving there I end up hearing that Gladys Knight song, "Midnight Train to Georgia". Sometimes multiple times. I'm not sure what that's all about, but needless to say, I inevitably ended up turning the radio off and singing to myself for the last leg of the trip.

The weather was beautiful and I had my window down. There was so much green everywhere I looked and the sky was blue. The way things have been going lately, I have to confess that a part of me wanted to just keep driving and never come back. But I was getting a little sick of Gladys Knight and my leg was getting tired.
I learned several important life lessons this weekend. Here are the happy ones: sangria is a wonderful thing and a Lord & Taylor 15% discount coupon given to you by a friendly coworker is a great reason to go shopping. I bought a very cute black sweater and two pairs of earrings. I passed up a pair of tan linen pants that looked really good on me (and really good with the cute black sweater) because even a 15% discount doesn't do much to justify $70 pants. But, while my restraint may have been admirable, I have to admit that I haven't been able to get those pants off my mind. I guess the right thing to do is not always the easiest - another important life lesson.
I did something I thought would be impossible. I managed to live without my cell phone for a whole week. You forget to pay one little bill and they go and shut your phone off - does that seem fair?? In any case, I couldn't afford to pay it off until my next paycheck so I had to wait a week.

Within 24 hours of having my phone back on the following strange things occured: The first was a call from a number I didn't recognize. They didn't leave a message so the mystery remains unsolved. The second thing was a text message. For some reason my phone can recieve text messages, but I am unable to send them. I was surprised to get a message that said, "Hey Colby, do you have your phone? Signed, the Group". Too bad I couldn't reply. Who knows what I (masquerading as Colby) would've said.

However, these two incidents made me a little suspicious that the cell phone company gave my number to someone else, as if I wasn't coming back. Or maybe, it's a case of crossed lines. This happens all the time with our 800 number at work. For whatever reason, the lines frequently get crossed with other lines. Once I answered the phone and it was a bunch of people stuck in an elevator in Miami. They said all they had done was hit the emergency button and they got me. Luckily, I was able to keep a cool head and figure out what had to be done. I found out their exact location and called the elevator company for them. I sure did feel like a hero.
I feel like I might have a lot to say today because I haven't written in ages. This was unintentional but due to circumstances much beyond my control, I have either been too busy or too much in-my-own-head to share my thoughts with the general public. Anyway, I'm going to have to write on the sly today because, even though it feels like the rest of the world has today off, here I am stuck at work with Monday morning mail waiting to be distributed, and projects waiting to be done. I'd rather be anywhere but here right now and I'm serious. That's cheerful, no?
Thursday, April 17, 2003
I read an interesting article today that referenced this story which I had read when I was younger and it really freaked me out (but in a good, thought provoking way).
Wednesday, April 16, 2003
I hate when I'm too busy at work to update my blog. Right now I'm supposed to be working on some sort of complicated project involving a mail merge and a heavy-duty stapler. The staples in this stapler are not staples, they are tiny pieces of industrial strength steel. If you want to affix documents with these staples, you should be forewarned that you would need the Jaws of Life to remove them.

* * * * *

This afternoon I went for a walk on my lunch break. In the mood to explore, I started down a small street that has mostly hair salons and strange random shops that look like they've been there since at least the 1950s, and I kid you not, there was a sign at the beginning of the street reading "No passing through, customers only". As I continued to walk down the street, knowing full well that I was in no way, shape or form a customer of anything, I felt a strange sense of guilt. I felt that at any moment some shop proprieter might burst out onto the street and demand to know exactly which business I was patronizing. This however, did not happen.
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
I just came in from outside a little while ago and it was blissful. I had to go to the post office to mail my taxes so I took the time for a short walk to get a smoothie. I love smoothies and I love nice weather. I was thinking how it feels truly unjust to be inside on a day like today. What's funny is, I always feel an intense pressure not to let beautiful weather go to waste, but if I go outside, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. It's also somewhat amusing how on the first few nice days of the year, people are always wearing summer clothes that seem ridiculously sudden.

Here's a bit of trivia, does anyone know what it means to be an expert in "eluviation"?? Anyone? I learned from reading the news today that this pleasant sounding word actually refers to someone who studies "the effect of water on corpses". What I want to know is, how does one get to be an eluviation expert? Is it a hobby? Or is there a college major for it somewhere? Can this actually be someone's full time job? I'm not asking because I'm interested in pursuing a career in this field, although it probably pays better than the job I have now.

Someone just sent out an email to the company about a former employee who wrote a cookbook, the proceeds of which, in their entirety, are being donated to a program supporting our troops. The cookbook is only $5 and it includes a chapter of soups entitled, "No Soup for You". Anyone who can incorporate a Seinfeldism into a cookbook is o.k. by me. Perhaps I'll purchase one. Although it would be a little more clever if the chapter entitled "No Soup for You" were actually about filet mignon or some other very unsoup-like thing, therefore making the "no soup for you" statement not only an inside joke directed at Seinfeld fans, but a true statement as well.
Monday, April 14, 2003
I had been feeling really out of sorts with myself the past few days but I'm better now. The weekend was not long enough, as usual. Saturday was dedicated to taxes. An especially patient friend helped me to sort the whole thing out. Taxes are confusing when they're straightfoward. Imagine my cluelessness when you factor in that I didn't hold a real tax-deducting job for the entire year of 2002. I was collecting unemployment for part of the time, which I could've opted to have taxes taken out of, but I needed the money more than the government did at that time. Then again, I usually would be of the opinion that I need my hard-earned money more than the government does.

I spent the majority of the year working on a political campaign which considered me self-employed for their own greedy, lazy, selfish reasons that served only to screw over the hard working staff. But that's another story! Anyway, the reason this was to my detriment is because, if you are self-employed, you have to pay 15% of what you earn as a "self-employment tax" in addition to regular taxes. Again, I felt that at that time, I needed my money more than the government, and therefore I now owe in taxes a sizable percentage of my earnings last year. Funny how that works, isn't it?

* * * * *

Anyway, above mentioned helpful friend and I, after tackling the large and overwhelming job of doing my taxes, headed out for a very late dinner of Indian food. We love this particular restaurant for it's location and cuisine, but I must confess that I'm now a bit creeped out and considering never going back. I think in a period of maybe, the past year, we've been there for dinner 3 or 4 times at most. The first time we were slightly uncomfortable about the waiter's attention but hey, as charming and attractive young women, uninvited male attention is certainly not something we are unaccustomed to during a night out on the town. Unimpressed by, yes, but unaccustomed to, no. (Actually, I could probably write a whole additional entry about this and I could tie it all in to a commentary about sexism in today's society. Maybe I will.)

Things took a turn for the weird the next time we went. The waiter remembered us in detail - down to what we had ordered before. He had written down that I wanted the Chicken Tikka Masala before he arrived at our table to take the order. I know because he showed me that it was already written on his little waiter-order-writing pad. That was strange considering it had been at least a couple months since our last visit and surely they must have plenty of other customers, right? Anyway, I can't remember if we went anytime between then and this past weekend, but we certainly hadn't been there in a good long time. We were immediately greeted by the waiter with a "Nice to see you ladies again". Again, he remembered us. But this time he was a little more bold. As we were leaving he was pushing for phone numbers and we left in a big hurry. I don't know, he's probably harmless, but I'm sure there are a lot of conveniently located, good Indian restaurants around.

* * * * *

So here it is, Monday again, and I'm back at work already. Part of my complex and highly specialized job description is to distribute the mail. Monday morning mail is always the worst because it's usually two boxes filled to the top. Today, the woman who sits right near me is not here and she usually covers the phone for me during Monday morning mail. I was interrupted a total of 11 times to run back and answer the phone. At least I got some exercise.

* * * * *

I'm once again amazed at the small kindnesses bestowed upon me here at work. One guy was bringing a new guy around introducing him to people. He told him who I was and said "she's nice." That made me really happy. Hey, I'm getting paid to be here. If people think I'm nice, all the better. If I can make a positive difference in the lives of others, then it's all worthwhile.

The second nice person of the day was a guy who came over for some candy (there's a big bowl of it on my desk for people). He asked what was good and I pointed out that we have Butterfinger Eggs in honor of Easter. He found one caramel egg and exclaimed it was his favorite. I agreed that it was mine too, and he then gave it to me. What a considerate gesture. Little does he know that I keep a secret stash of all the good stuff in a mug on my desk. Hey, I tried to get him to take it back but he insisted.

* * * * *

All's well that ends well.
Thursday, April 10, 2003
This morning at work two people were really nice to me and if niceness isn't worth commenting on then what is? The first was this guy I barely speak to ever who, as I was sitting there, just trying to cope with the morning, approached my desk and handed me the day's paper. For no reason other than the fact that he thought I might like something to read. The second was a super friendly coworker who, in passing my desk, asked if she could get me a cup of coffee. That was a real life saver as I was on the verge of taking a nap.

Wednesday, April 09, 2003
Today has been altogether disappointing.

* * * * *

I'd also like to point out that daylight savings is really messing with my head.

* * * * *

Some words to consider:

"And I think about Pompeii when I feel the end is near,
Just before the rain and every time you disappear
- Dar Williams

"And I'm yelling when I should be whispering
I'm pushing when I should be carrying
And I don't understand anything I've heard
I should be yelling I love you
But I'm hardly speaking a word
- Lori McKenna

Get it?
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
Blue ketchup! I know it's a marketing ploy, but somehow I feel I have to fight the irrational urge to collect all the colors. Do I want to eat "Passion Pink" or "Funky Purple" or "Totally Teal" ketchup? (All legitimate kinds of ketchup you can actually buy.) Do I really want to eat ketchup at all for that matter? The answer is no. I couldn't care less about ketchup. But somehow I really want a bottle of each color. If nothing else, just to look at, or offer to guests. Is that strange?
Bagel Day!!! Today is bagel day at work. I wish every day was bagel day.
Monday, April 07, 2003
Here is a cool website I found.
This never-ending winter makes me kind of understand why Jack Nicholson went crazy in The Shining. Of course, I'm not isolated in a creepy, haunted, desolate hotel for months on end, but it sure feels that way.
Friday, April 04, 2003
Because of where I work, I find that I am sometimes playing a part time psychologist. That was the case today because I had lunch with a woman who wanted to talk about "the incident" as it's called around here. I was more than happy to listen. I guess my curiousity stems from the fact that I can't reconcile in my mind this friendly, laid-back place and what happened here. It seems so unreal to me. I guess the more details I learn, the more I can try to piece things together in my head. Except that the perspective she gave me today perplexed me even more.

She had worked closely with the guy and painted a very different picture than that of the media. He had been sociable and friendly to her, making her feel good about herself and encouraging her at her job. He would joke around, and even emceed a company Christmas party.

Then she told me about the panic and confusion and people escaping alive only because they hid under their desks and didn't make a sound, or having to step over the bodies of coworkers while running to get out of the building. This is all the more utterly hard to believe because these are not nameless faceless people, but people I know. People who have been nothing but nice to me since day one.

There are two things I keep going back to that I can't quite seem to process. One is how it could be possible for someone to do what he did. The other is the resilience of the human spirit to survive.
Pay day would be a lot more special of an occasion if, by the end of it, after rent, bills, etc., there were anything left over.
Thursday, April 03, 2003
Here's a bit of nostalgia from my childhood that is forever ruined...
If there's one thing I hate about my job, it's pushy callers. I feel really suspicious when I answer and someone says, "Hi, how are you today?" I just know that I'm in for more than a routine "Could I speak to whoever please". (That by the way, is my favorite type of caller - know who you want to speak to, state it clearly and concisely so I can move you along and get back to surfing the web, or reading my book, or whatever you had the audacity to interupt with your call. Do I look like the receptionist to you?? Oh... wait...)

Anyway, these pushy people always start off by asking how I am. Yeah right, like you care? Then they start asking all these pushy questions... "Who is your assistant executive vice president of business software development?" First of all, I have no idea, secondly, if I did know, why should I tell you? You haven't told me who you are or why you want to know. I question your motives because I'm onto you - you're trying to sell something. So I give my best guess, "Um, well, I'm not sure, maybe... Amy?" Then they pounce: "What's Amy's last name? Could you spell that please? What is her email address? Does she have a direct line? Cell phone number? And what is her exact title?" I told you I don't know. Do you think if you keep asking, I'll finally break down and tell you? I really don't know. Me: "Well, you know, if you'd like to speak to Amy, I'm sure she can help you..." Them: "Um, no! No, that's o.k. I just wanted to send her some information..." Uh-huh, I thought so.
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
So now that I've told everyone to come and check out my blog, I feel a tremedous pressure and responsibility to write something insightful. Let me get one thing straight - this is all new to me. I didn't realize that a "blog" (short for "web log" for those as clueless as I was) is really just online journal entries. Apparently my brother and all his cool young friends have been doing this for ages. They make me feel so old. Anyway, now that I have nothing better to do all day than go online, I hope to update a lot.
This is where you will find my thoughts. Coming soon is my website, Then that will be where you find my thoughts. Stay tuned!
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