My Desk Is Not In A Power Position And That Pisses Me Off

Ask anyone who has worked with me or heard me describe office arrangements, I take my desk position very seriously. I hate a desk position that requires my back to face the room, thus allowing others to observe what I am doing on my computer.

I covet the empty offices. I want one SO bad. I could even be happy in that "closet/office." But no, designers belong in cubes.

At my current office, we buy into that weird tech thing about working the dark is so much cooler. Yeah, let me send you my optometry bill. And the receipt for my migraine meds. I really dislike a dark office. It is not only hard on the eyes, but it makes me sleepy. I try lamps, but my desk/computer situation does not make for a happy marriage with the lamp. All the prime locations near the windows were already taken. So I am stuck in the back cube where it is the darkest. I was happy to discover that I was near the kitchen which always has a light burning. But, something worse than darkness occurs when next to the kitchen. People walk by your desk all the time. That is the way that we enter our office. So people are constantly walking by me. And this requires me to make eye contact. I mean, I am a friendly person overall, but all freaking day?!?! I am only one person. But I feel like an asshole if I just stare at my monitors and ignore the passing coworkers who are looking at me as they walk in the door. I put in ear buds so at least it will appear that I am completely engrossed in my work, but I fear this is deceiving no one.

Am I wrong to not want to have to exchange nods and smiles with people that are walking by my desk? My desk position was not of my choosing. I hate exchanging pleasantries with every single person that walks by. I would love to have an office where I could just close the door and avoid unwanted human interaction. I just want to be in my own little Weezer listening world and not interact. It's not like these people are purposefully going by my desk or are seeking me out to talk; they are just returning from the bathroom. Really, I don't want to smile at the guy that just got through peeing. Why should I?!??!?!

What do you think? Does anyone share a similar situation? Are you an ass, or do you submit to the pleasantries exchange?

5 Things You May or May Not Know About Me

YayCoffee said I had to post this, so here goes.

5 Things You May or May Not Know About Me

1. I hate Shirley Temple (though not Shirley Temples because those are tasty), cherries as part of a dessert but not as a flavor except in the case of cough syrup, Toby Keith, cream of wheat, Chris Farley, praying in public, running, my nose, whiskey, Little House on the Prairie, and the sound of the vacuum cleaner.

2. I really like Frito Pies, old Days of Our Lives, Wheat Thins, Willie Nelson, Patsy Cline, asparagus but few other green vegetables, blooming onions but not onion rings,

3. I have never seen the following movies: anything featuring Elvis, It's A Wonderful Life, Casablanca, Seven Year Itch, Goonies, Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure, or any Katherine Hepburn movies.

4. I think the following are overrated: Woody Allen movies, David Sedaris books and Cameron Diaz.

5. I had grits for the first time ever this past Tuesday.

What I Would Tell Me.

In my caffiene induced sleeplessness last night, I start thinking about things I wish I could change. If I could speak to the younger MAV, what would I tell her to do differently.

Here are some little things I decided on that would make my future life better without necessarily changing my life completely.

• Take gymnastics. Not just because I really wish I knew how to do back flips cause they would be really entertaining at parties, but because that might have set me on a good fitness plan for life and maybe I wouldn't be struggling so much ten years later.
  
• Make better boyfriend choices/be more honest with boyfriends. Yeah, this could be applied to any point in my life. Maybe if I had started that honesty thing sooner, things would be different now.
  
• Major in fine arts. You would have saved yourself a lot of time and heart ache.
  
• Put off buying a car until you absolutely must.
  
• Don't pierce your navel.
  
• Don't "date" guys you meet at bars. Especially bouncers.
  
• Ditch band, join yearbook. Only because I would have gotten involved in photography earlier in life and rarely play the oboe in the present.
  
• Check for back hair before dating.

These are just a few. I could probably add more if I would think about it longer. What would you tell your young self that would improve, but not completely change your life.

So, Then They Cut Me Out Of My Pants

During my time in Austin, I think the majority of the parties I attended were hosted by the Party Triad (Amanda, Priscilla and Z-Ho). They threw AWESOME parties. Many of which I ended up in some trouble at or after. Their Jell-O shots were dangerous and their antics legendary. There was a chair dubbed “Stripper Chair” due to all the lap dances that it hosted. Going away from one of these parties just slightly tipsy wasn’t possible. Most people just crashed there.

This is what I did on that fateful Saturday (or Sunday morning, depending on how you look at that). I had drank. A lot. The couch was looking very inviting so I passed out there. In the wee hours of Sunday morning, around 8, I was awakened by the urgent need to go to the bathroom. In my hangover haze, I quickly made my way there. I attempted to unzip my pants, but the zipper would only go down about an inch. The zipper was in the back of my pants, so I didn’t have a really good view. I gave it a good jerk. Nothing. I began doing the pee-pee dance while I tried to zip the pants back up, thinking that I had gotten a little fabric snagged. Nothing. I jerk the zipper up and down as best I can. It is of no use. The zipper is stuck. Things are getting quite desperate as the half a keg I drank the night before really wants to be released. I can’t see what the problem is, so I am going to have to wake one of the other hungover roommates up to release me from the clutches of my pants.

Who to awaken? Amanda and Mason will most likely choke me with my pants if I were to disturb them. I lightly knock on Z-Ho’s door, but she has her earplugs in and doesn’t hear me. Priscilla is my only choice. She and her boyfriend turned in relatively early, so they will probably be the least pissed. Tap, tap, tap.

MAV: *whispers* Priscilla.
Priscilla: Mffthgm
MAV: *taps again* Silly.
Priscilla: *grumpily* Whaaaaat???
MAV: I need help.
Silly: Mfffhhttggmmm Whaaaaatttt? I’m sleeeeepiiiiing.
MAV: I can’t get out of my pants, and I have to pee really bad.
Silly: Huh? What? *starts getting out of bed*
MAV: My zipper is stuck. I can’t get out. *continues pee pee dance while whispering to the door*
Silly: *opens door* What’s wrong????
MAV: *through gritted teeth* My zipper is stuck. I can’t get out of my pants, and I REALLY have to pee.
Silly: Let me look. Hmmmm, there is a bunch of fabric bunched up in the zipper. Why did you do that?
MAV: *grits teeth, pee pee dances* I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t see what was happening. Can you just jerk it over the bunch?
Silly: *jerks the zipper with all the force her 90 pound body can exert* No, sweetie, it isn’t going anywhere. Let me get Dusty.
Silly: *goes into bedroom, attempts to awaken drunk/hungover boyfriend* Dusty, wake up, we need your help.
Dusty: Mmmmfff**##!!!ggmmm
Silly: MAV is stuck in her pants. You need to help us get her out.
Dusty: *confused* What? MAV what? What? Mmmmfff**###!!??ffmmm
Silly: She is going to pee on the floor if you don’t help us.
MAV: *dies a little*
Dusty: Just a sec…… *comes out, looks at the desperate, dancing MAV, smiles* How do you get stuck in your pants?
MAV: *mentally flips him off* I don’t know. Just get me out, please.
Dusty: *tugs at zipper* It’s really stuck.
Silly: It looks like some of the teeth are all bent up.
MAV: Dusty, you are a big, strong man, jerk it down.
Dusty: *jerks so hard that MAV almost falls over* Nope, it’s really stuck.
MAV: *panics* Rip it. Do something!
Silly: I guess we can cut the zipper.
MAV: *barely able to breathe anymore* Do it. Through the teeth. I will fix the zipper later.
Dusty: *grabs a large knife* Here.
MAV: Or scissors, maybe?
Silly: Oh, good idea. Let me look for some.
MAV: *pee, pee dances, turns a little more purple*
Silly: Found ‘em. *cuts MAV’s favorite black skinny pants that make her ass look so HAWT* There.
MAV: *holds pants together, runs to bathroom* Thank you. Don’t tell everyone, please?
Silly, Dusty: *lie*

Later that day at lunch:

MAV: Pardon me, I have to go to the ladies room.
Mason: Are you going to be able to handle that on your own, or do you need to take a knife with you.
Amanda: I might have scissors in my car.
MAV: *flips them off, dies a little inside*
And no, I was not able to save the pants.

Serving Sizes Make Me Sad

Is there anything sadder than counting out one serving of Reduced Fat Wheat Thins?

Look, I don't want to hear some crap about starving children in Bangladesh. My diet is sucking my will to live. I am getting very diminished returns on great sacrifice. I have quit drinking. Not just alcohol. No Dr. Peppers, no tea, no juice, no Kool-aid. Just water.

That previous drinking related statement is making some people question if they are on the correct blog. No, you are. I was doing sit ups on an exercise ball and fell off. I landed on my ass, and the big green ball shot across the gym. Some things never change.

Top 5 Accidents in Chronological Order

1. Fell into a space heater
2. Stuck to the drain of a pool
3. Fell off a 4-wheeler and was run over when they came back to check on me
4. Attacked by a monkey
5. Clotheslined by a barbed wire fence while drunkily stumbling through the woods

UPN Buffy

So, my new phrase for anything that is disappointing or just plain bad is that it is "no better than UPN Buffy." Just to clarify, and let me warn you, this is going to be quite the controversial comment, I equate UPN Buffy as being no better than early Shannon Doherty episodes of Charmed. I liked early episodes of Charmed. They were no where near as awesome as Buffy. But if Charmed had premiered at the same time that Buffy moved to UPN or if Buffy had started at the UPN level of crap, then I think that most people would think Charmed was better. Now, I do think current Charmed is pretty awful. That is what happens when you let your actresses have too much control over the show. They work for you, dammit!

So, some things that are no better than UPN Buffy:

• My first iPod Mini. I dubbed her Kennedy for her level of disappointment. But my wonderful Apple Genius got me the hookup and restored my faith in the Apple corporation. Stella is Season 2 Buffy!
• Bikini waxes. They are painful and you question why you are participating.
• Flash MX 2004. Yeah, I am a nerd. But really, they made all of these changes that didn't need to be made. I am very displeased.
• Dimly lit offices. I understand what they are trying to do, but the result just gives me a headache and makes my eyes want to bleed.
• Plain Broccoli. Sure, it has some things you need, but in other forms, it would be better. Like covered in cheese.
• Sunburns. They are painful and make you question why you subjected yourself to such a thing.

Some things that are worse than UPN Buffy. Yes, it is possible.

• 7th Heaven. No matter how much Buffy sucked, it was still better than 7th Heaven.
• Head lice. Actually, lice in any form is definitely worse than UPN Buffy. Just wanting to put things in perspective. Now, in a head to head competition between crabs and 7th Heaven, I don't know which would win.
• Horatio Sands. He just plain sucks. More than UPN Buffy. But probably not more than 7th Heaven.
• The photo testimonials on ColonBlow.com. Really, they are just awful.
• Tomatoes. Nuff said.
• Our President's speaking skills.
• Radio stations in East Texas.
• Post-Puffy J Lo movies. Shut up, I liked The Wedding Planner and Out of Site. But everything after The Wedding Planner blew chunks.
• Coding. HTML, PHP, C++, XML, I hate it all.
• Britney and Kevin: Chaotic
• Post Chicago Real Worlds
• Counting the pixels on mobile phone screens
• Cramps
• Joey

Things that are surprisingly better than UPN Buffy.

• Adam Sandler movies
• Eye brow waxing
• Going into work early
• The OC
• Senior Year Felicity
• Alternative radio on Clear Channel stations. Yeah, it kinda blows, but it is better than static.
• Flossing
• America's Next Top Model
• Chicago Real World
• Web design. I always thought I would hate it.
• Asparagus
• Cardio workouts
• Preparing your income taxes (but only if there will be a refund)
• Health insurance
• Christina Aguilara's Stripped cd
• Christina on SNL
• Pacey on Dawson's Creek
• Revenge of the Sith

I am sure there are many more things that I could add to this list, but sadly I must get to work. Paychecks? Better than UPN Buffy.

Shakira

Okay, I really dislike blonde Shakira. In her new video, she has this ultra cool dance move where she moves her small, humble breasts in a circular motion that doesn't look so much sexy as it looks like she has the dry heaves. She does this like it is the sexiest thing ever, but it looks so STUPID!

I don't know what is more stupid, her dance move, her videos or her lyrics. It is an impossible call.

And now let's discuss her hair. Shakira, you have the Heather Locklear hair. It's called a hot oil treatment. It's your friend. Or better yet, accept that you are not a blonde.

So, in conclusion: Shakira? Stupid.

Not Guilty

So Michael Jackson has evaded the long arm of the law once again. The juror just announced a Not Guilty verdict on all accounts.

I don't know about you, but I don't believe he is innocent. While he might behave childlike, he is a very, very smart man when it comes to choosing his fresh meat. His accusers have always come from shady backgrounds and are easily discredited on the stand. Michael won't ever choose a nice, 10-year old boy from Middle America who comes from a loving, hardworking, Christian family. No, he chooses boys that come from broken homes that have been involved in previous legal skirmishes. He knows those people will be easy to buy off or discredit. He may be crazy, but he is no idiot.

Michael is beyond creepy. While I used to love his music (now I just feel dirty when I listen to it), I would not ever be alone with him, much less leave my hypothetic child under his "watchful" gaze. He is weird! He is icky! He looks strange and acts stranger. Why do people still let their kids come near him? Why does anyone have any desire to be around him. Cree-py!

I would like to think that he has sufficiently destroyed what remained of his career, but seeing as how people still believe that Britney is a really talented singer and wrestling is unscripted, live entertainment, I am sure that Michael's career will still putter along.

Michael, the jury might believe you aren't guilty, but I think you are very guilty. And creepy. And I definitely think you have had more than 2 plastic surgeries.

Should I save Diana from prostitution?

Okay, so I am oddly fascinated by the Nigerian soliciation emails that end up in my Junk Mail. Today, I received one from Diana Williams. Poor Diana wants desperately to go to college, but her aunt is forcing her into prostitution. I am apparently her only hope.

However, I am hesitant to help. Not because I realize that this is almost certainly a scam, but because her grammar is so very, very bad. I understand that she is supposedly Nigerian and would not understand the finer points of English grammar. But, her writing is just awful. Not in a used the wrong word/conjugation/tense/etc way, but it is bad in a Faulkner can't find a period to save his life kind of way. Faulkner understood how to use punctuation correctly, so you couldn't really nail him for bad grammar. Diana, on the other hand, just keeps tossing in comma after comma resulting in on gigantic run-on sentence. Here, take a look.

With due respect, I was move to write you this letter when all hopes were lost about my going to school, I have been persuaded to go into prostitution by my Aunty and that I don,t want to, but resorted to contact you for your assistance, It is my sincere wish that this mail meet you in good health,pardon me writing you this way, but I have no other alternative than to write you.

My name is Diana and I am a 17 years old girl, I was a computer science student of the City Computer Technology, Lagos State, Nigeria before I recently lost both parents to a ghastly motor accident, My dad is a Nigerian and my mum was from United States, I was born in Nigeria,but after the death of my parents,I started staying with my dad sister, that was when my problems started, my Aunty is not all that too educated, I can say she does not know the value of education, she has been trying to persuade me into prostitution, 3 of her daughters are prostituting in Europe,but I told her that I want to continue my studies, she frowned at all my plead to get money from her to resume school.

I don't have any money to pay for my school fees which is N25,000 which is equilvanlent to $250, I have been begging her but to no avail,but she is still bent on persuading me to go into prostitution, I have been seeking for assistance here in Nigeria, but most people that I can reach are very poor, good education is what I need now and I just have to be begging to have it,
my late parents always told me that if I dedicate my time and become well educated that I will become great, but I can now see it as something that I might never achieve, please help me to realize the dream that my parents had for me, the only resort now for me is to beg and please don't look down on me for that reason,or think it is a SCAM,it is circumstance that lead me to this.

Please let me just ask this favor from you, I pray you willing be to help me, but I want to tell you that nothing is too small, if I am able to raise the money for my school fees then I will go and resume school and also I want to leave my Aunty, I want to be staying the school dormitory and avoid my Aunty, please just take me as your sister, if I had known any of my mums
relative, they would have been the ones to help me out,but I don't, please I will be very glad if you can help me out with my school fees, it is just N25,000 ($250) that I need, if I am able to pay for my fees the school promised to give me free accomodation in the dormitory,please just do this for me, let that which you want to give to me for my fees be a blessing to
me. you might be wondering how i got your mail but i searched for it, I will be expecting your mail to know how you can help me, my email address is williamdiana@msn.com

please I will be expecting your mail.

My regards to your family.

Sincerely Yours
Diana Williams

I really don't think Diana knows me at all, or she would realize that sending such an email would pretty much guarantee my refusal to help. Really, I don't think that Diana is a good investment of my $250 dollars. How could such a bad writer ever succeed in college? Now if the request were for money to take an Introduction to Grammar class, then I would be more inclined to help. But college for Diana doesn't seem like a sound financial decision. I am a huge advocate of higher education, but only once your primary education has been completed. I guess computer science majors don't have to have fabulous writing skills, but they do need to know when to use a comma and when to use a period. If they can't master that, how will they ever master the complex art of coding.

I really don't think Diana is a good investment, so I have decided not to give her $250. However, I will be returning her email with corrections so that she may learn from her mistakes. Perhaps prostitution will be a good thing for her since it will free up her days for in depth study of English grammar.

I don't believe we have met

So, reading a comment on M.O.L. Jr's blog made me realize that there are two types of people in this world. Those that remember names/faces and those that don't. I am of the former. I remember people. We could have met once two years ago, but I will remember you (depending on blood alcohol levels). Almost always the name, but always the face. I am sure there are a few exceptions, but I really blame that on the boring level of the other person more than a reflection of me.

Anyway, I remember people, but people tend not to remember me. I remember being introduced multiple times to NotGayChris' friends before they ever remembered my name. Seriously, we involved for a while. It took them at least two months to stop introducing themselves to me.

Am I not a memorable person? If I met me, I would definitely remember me. Despite some unique characteristics, I fear that perhaps I am not remarkable enough to pierce the memory of most people. What do I need to do? Should I wear more interesting t-shirts? Do I need some sort of piercing? Maybe I should adopt an accent. Perhaps I need to have a "thing." I could be the girl that wears the Lolita glasses. Or the girl with an eye patch. Or possibly the girl with the odd limp. But the I fear I would just be referred to as Lolita, PirateGirl or GimpGirl. My name would still not be remembered. Maybe I should wear a name tag. That might help.

Lesbian diss

Sue, my accidental lesbian date, has blown me off. She never called. Why? I'm cute. I'm funny. I have nice boobs. I have red hair. I know all the words to the theme song from WKRP: Cincinatti. But she never called!

I am hurt. Should I call her? I really want to know why I was dissed.

Sticky situation

There are people in this world that don't get sticky. I am not one of them. I am currently covered in the juice of a large Granny Smith. An apple seems easy enough to eat. It has a protective cover. You can hold it in your hand. But somehow, I get COVERED in stickiness. Why me? I attempted to slice it with an apple corer, but the apple was too large for the corer. So, then I had to cut it with a knife. But even with bite size pieces, I am still sticky. Only now, my keyboard is sticky, too.

If it is sticky, I will get it all over myself. The smallest amount of honey, and I end up a sticky mess. I have given up on pancakes, waffles and French toast all together. Despite the fork and knife combo, there is still no fending off the sticky from my hands. I thought a peanut butter, banana and honey whole wheat English muffin would be okay due to my very limited honey application. Nope, sticky again.

It's a curse. I feel people are judging me. Between my sticky fingers and food stained chest, I must look like the biggest glutton. Look at that poor, fat girl over there, they say. She is such a pig that she can't eat slow enough to prevent wearing her food. But I do eat slow! I try. I really do. But the stickiness is too powerful. I am no match!

The only thing worse than the stickiness is the aforementioned food stained chest. I try to eat properly. I place my napkin in its useless position in my lap. My big breasts catch the food before it even comes close to the napkin. At movies, I will find popcorn in my bra. I am constantly having to wash my shirts because they have salsa or soy sauce or something on them. My small chested friends don't understand my pain. My humiliation. How can they? Their napkins are actually useful. As if I need help calling attention to my boobs, my food often ends up drawing even more attention to them.

Such a sad, hard life. I am considering getting a reduction and avoiding all hand held fruit and sticky topping forever.

By the way, besides sharing my food related pain, I also wanted to add a few key phrases to my blog so it would rise in the Google rankings. While I am the top choice for monkey attacks, I feel I need to expand my exposure. So, repeated use of the words breast, lap, boob and sticky should do the job.

Another side note, Blogger's spell check does not recognize the word blog. Interesting.

I'm not dead yet.

The Zimbabwe president denies news reports that he died last week. Apparently, the President was not aware that he died of heart failure. He wishes that he had been informed that he died as he could have been sleeping in all week.

It's not perfect.

I was under the impression that my laptop was perfect. I love it. Flat, wide screen. Pretty fast. Nice load speed. DVD player and SUPER fast burner. Thin. Silver. Near silent keys. Perfect.

I love my Dell laptop. We are such good friends. Sure, he is getting a little heavy but who isn't?

Today, as I am sitting at the coffee shop working on some websites, I have found a flaw.

I can't see the screen in the sun. Well, I can somewhat seeing that I am typing this, but I can't see well. Not at the level that design would require. Remember in elementary school when the teacher would show movies on the projector, but they were very dark and hard to see? That is what I am working with. I need some sort of screen back lighting I am guessing.

So, anyone with some advice on increasing my direct sunlight visibility, could you pass that info along? I hate the thought that my formerly perfect laptop is flawed.

Warrant

Judge Issues Warrant for Bobby Brown

I saw this link on MSN this morning. As though it were news. I just assumed that there was some sort of perpetual warrant for Bobby Brown. Perhaps he should just rent a room at the courthouse. It would really cut down on commute time.

VH1 Video Observances

While watching videos (yes, actual music videos) on VH1 this morning, I have made some observances.

• I think it is really funny that Tom Morello of Audioslave appeared to be wearing a Kevlar vest during the concert in Cuba. I find it even funnier that Chris Cornell was not. Lead singers can be replaced, but Tom cannot. Hee.
  
• It's really nice that Kelly Clarkson has a song for all the hazel eyed girls out there. Poor hazel eyed girls being forced to listen to songs about blue, brown and green eyes with nothing speaking to them. Way to represent Ms. Clarkson!
  
• Poor Joss Stone. Major US album promotion, British stardom, Gap commercials. She obviously doesn't even have time to sleep, poor thing. I mean, look at her. She can barely keep her eyes open. Get that poor girl some coffee. Or perhaps that eye opening device from A Clockwork Orange.
  
• Why does Bono dress in Unabomber chic?
  
• Do friends get to drop the "The" from The Edge? Or must they always include the article?
  
• Did my friends get to pick the video lineup this morning? Kelly Clarkson, Joss Stone, Coldplay, U2. Throw in some Bon Jovi, Justin and Madonna, and my suspicions will be confirmed. Oh wait, Rob Thomas has come on. But I still take that as an ironic shout-out to Dinah.
  
• Now why exactly do these boys want to be Jerry Hall's boy toy?

Non-VH1 related observances

• Janice Dickinson has left America's Next Top Model. This makes me supremely sad. She made that show. Without the possibility of seeing Tyra jump over the table to strangle Janice while screaming "This is my show, you crazy silicone bitch," why bother tuning in?
  
• Did you know that they have these new things called con-taks? A con-tak is a small, sliver of plastic that you put into your eye (yes, your eye!) to allow you to see. I know! Crazy! --No. You don't have to wear glasses.
  -No. After the 8 hour con-tak application seminar, they are quite easy to use.
  -No. I don't think they are an alien invention, but they are so advanced that they might be. -Yes. In your eye.
  -No. It's quite easy.
  -No, you will not need A Clockwork Orange torture device, just your finger.
  -No. You don't need a license or any prior training.
  -Yes. They are quite comfortable, well as far as pieces of plastic in your eyes go.
  -Con-taks. They are new. All you poor, glasses wear people just must run out and get them.
  Con-taks. Eye sight invention of the future. They even come in colors! No, really!