Oh, a fun day in the office.

My office is amazing. I have to tell you this as a preface. For my first "real job" I couldn't have asked for anything better. Can I tell you my employment up until this point? Wait, that'll be another post. No, I'll tell you now. No. I'm not going to. Alright, apparently I'm schizophrenic - wonderful. But, really. This job. Prime location. I get PAID to write semi-creative stuff. Everyone is friendly and fun, and if they're not, they make up for it in these quirky little things that they do. I may complain, but it's better to have something to complain about than nothing at all? Does that work? Sure. We'll say, YES!

Okay, so I use gmail, and I have other friends in offices that use gmail as well, thus resulting in daily mass email chains. Topics range from weekend plans to stupid area sports debates (which I usually delete because I don't really care about who has a better batting average or RBIs or who can hit the most field goals or whatever - I kid about the hitting field goals, I'm not that stupid!), but today I called on them for a little un-biased office advice, supplying them with this*:

FYI - this gets ranty.

I've got a dilemma in my office, folks.

So, there's this douche bag named *Captain Crunch. (Nicknames include: MP3 [cause he thinks he's the end all, be all when it comes to tunes] and then we settled on Tucker or Tuck [cause he's a bit of a fucker.) Complete douche. Total a-hole, thinks he's God's gift to the world, pretentious fuck. Just a total dick bag. I really, kind of, hate him - a lot. I like most people, if not tolerate them, but not this guy. Not this guy. Something about him just sets my blood aboil.

Anyway, this jerk wad is CONSTANTLY on the phone - taking personal calls at least, and I kid you not, 5 times a day. Y'know, I know this is a temp job and it's a "relaxed" atmosphere but he's always talking. (Note: others occasionally take calls and this doesn't bother me, because they speak so soft I can barely even tell they're talking to another person on the tele and assume they're just talking to themselves like I occasionally do.) He never turns his cell phone on vibrate, and it's this stupid ascending ring tone that he just lets ring and ring and ring, and then he answers it and talks and talks and talks. It's usually his girlfriend who he lovingly refers to as "homegirl" and they usually talk about her asthma attacks or paying rent or how he's not going to pay for his parking tickets because he's from the South.

Or one time, and this was good, I'll admit, he had to deal with a friend who was arrested for leaving her baby on a porch one morning back in Hickland. Yeah, it doesn't only happen in movies! It took a couple of days to figure this situation out as he was speaking in spy code, but kept mentioning class D felony, and then my buddy did some investigating, he's trained as a journalist, and found the truth.

This guy has absolutely no shame in discussing personal issues on company time, he doesn't even quiet his voice. It's not as if the cubicle "walls" are sound-proof - and it's incessant. Incessant!!

Everyone around him always sighs when he gets on the phone. Managers don't seem to mind or take notice, and... well, here's where you come in, would it be totally out of line for me to say something to him? Like, "take your fucking personal shit out in the hall!", or "leave your life at home", or "go to fuckin' hell I hate you and your stupid face!!!!!" Would this be wrong? How would you deal, I mean, really? It's distracting and I think rude and unprofessional. Has this boy no manners?!?!? Apparently not.

I'm thinking I should probably say something before I go absolutely insane and just start shake-shake-shaking him.

Is this bad? Is this bad?

You've got a dart in your neck.

I feel like I'm taking crazy pills!!

I DON'T WANT TO WORK IN AN OFFICE!!!

I like all my other co-workers.

I've officially lost my mind.

PS - don't be afraid of me?


[And that's what I sent to my friends, and I'm so thankful that my keyboard is still working. I promise, I'm not usually an angry person - it's something I've been trying to work on. Yikes, bikes!]


Then, I got some fun responses! Including, but not limited to:

--I'd probably stab him with something nasty.

--As you might have noticed, I do not tend to shy away from telling people my mind. Yes this has gotten me in trouble in the past, but I sleep very well at night. I would approach the situation head on, yet polite in the beginning. Say something like "I can't work with you douching all over the phone all day." Maybe even be that person who rats him out to the boss. Moral of the story, if this is really pissing you off, tell him. It's not going to get better by keeping your mouth shut.

And then I said,

Alright you guys, I'm going to do it! I'm going to grab the bull by the balls and squeeze til they pop. (Ew. That was graphic.)

I can't wait for this phone to ring. Oooh, my heart just started racing slightly with the thought of confrontation - oh man. Politeness is key, I will keep that in mind - and a switchblade in my pocket.

Someone also suggested that I be realistic and take it to a manager, and I was going to, but then another co-worker did - so we'll see what happens with that. Then, someone else said that people in their office were arguing intensely and had been at it for a good 5 minutes. Office fights abound!

I then suggested that TLC needs to come up with a new program, "The Fighting Office" (spin-off of "The Singing Office") it's Ultimate Fighting + Office Space =ing ENTERTAINMENT!! Wouldn't that be fun!? Don't steal my idea, or I'll fight you! Co-hosts would be fight master Chuck Liddell and everyone's favorite blue-haired grandma Bea Arthur.





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And then, there was this:

--I suggest you approach this situation like a cat or dog would. When he answers his phone, enter his cube and swat his phone out of his hand. Once the phone is on the ground, proceed to drop you pants or lift your skirt and urinate all over the phone. The important thing to remember is that you want to stare directly into his eyes, without blinking or smiling while you do this. Once done urinating all over his phone, you say "You're phone is ringing." Then walk back into your cube and start working like nothing happened.

So, like I said, a fun day in the office. Good times, good times. I'm going to strum the shit out of my guitar tonight! And hopefully run before that, without tearing apart my knee!

PS - I might get fired for this. Oh God, I hope not! I have so many bills to pay! Soooo many! Stupid, stupid, stupid student loans. They make me want to cry, and throw away my phone. If I run away and live in the woods... come back in 7 years with an epic book and a changed name, could they get me then? Hmmm.

*Names have been changed to protect the guilty [of office disruption].

--This post was written in the (sing it like the song) Heat of the moment - anger was coursing through my veins. The heat of the moment, I didn't mean any paaaaaaaaaaaaaain. In all honesty, folks, as annoying as it is (and it is!) it's kind of nice to have a silly, "Wait. What'd he just say?!" moment with co-workers, but then it just doesn't stop. You'd think you wouldn't have to tell someone that they aren't behaving appropriately/professionally, especially a twentysomething... at least that's what I thought... but as I've seen with my roommate, twentysomething boys are gross and rude. Great!

The Homeless

I love it when they're honest. I hate lying liars. Oh, you're hungry? For what? Booze? Crack? Heroin? Yeah. That's what I thought, ya dirty bum!

The best bum story (ps - don't search "bum" in Google images at work, because a bum's what you get - and not the homeless kind! Oops!) happened in Portland, Maine. It was summer 2005. I was walking through the historic streets with my pals Brett and Dustin (co-counselors, our first day off after training, before the first session started) and we walked past an old homeless man. He called out for change, and Brett said, "Why should we give you our money, old man?" And the homeless man replied, "I'm not gonna lie. I wanna get drunk. I wanna get high." We gave him dollars for his honesty. After all, it is the best policy.

Now the homeless. I understand they've obviously gone through some tough times to get where they are today - on the side of the street - but come on! You most likely brought this upon yourself. I feel bad, but there's a lot of you and I can't go giving quarters to every bum I meet, especially on a daily basis - despite the common misconception, I am not made of money. And, homeless shelters, I'm pretty sure these are around - especially in big cities - to help you get back on your feet and out of the street. I know the economy is bad right now, but that's no excuse not to get yourself a job. Be honest. You're addicted to crack and you don't like paying the tax man.

Also, I don't like feeling bad, so put away your pity signs. You're more likely to shake a few coins from my pockets if I'm laughing. Another good example is the last picture in this post.

Or entertain me! Work for the money. Play me a song, or sing it, or do both! Harmonicas seem easy to play, and I don't believe they're too expensive. A kazoo even. Spoons. Clap your hands, shake your coin cup to a cool beat. Get creative! You have nothing else to do. All the time in the world. Get some friends together and choreograph a dance routine - maybe you'll even get your own television show out of it, knowing the way America loves their exploited persons television shows nowadays.

What? Are you offended? You shouldn't be. They can't ever read this, they don't have homes, let alone computers, unless they're like Drillbit Taylor and they use laptops at Starbucks when the owner gets up to get their mocha java. They don't even know that we're all laughing at them. That we think the misfortunate are hilarious. Sleeping in cardboard boxes, we joke about bum fights. Fight til the death for this sandwich! Never say that in a subway, someone's going to lose an eye, and quiet possibly a life as you hear the switchblades click out. Go ahead and laugh, you should.

And I know the homeless are staples of the city for tourists, but c'mon! We already do so much for tourists. We dress fashionably and blow our cigarette smokes in their children's faces. We're mean, pushy, huffy when we walk behind their slow, fat asses, and we curse loudly on our cell phones when we have important calls. All to impress them. All so they can go home and tell their friends and family in the country of the fast-paced life of the glitzy, glamorous, dirty city.

But in all honesty, have compassion for these people, even if they aren't entertaining you or don't have funny signs. We need them. Our society needs the homeless, because we can always look at them and say, "Thank God I'm not you. Thank God I have a home, even if it's filled with people I hate. At least I have a roof and I contribute to society." I guess they contribute, too, in their own way.... So, don't kick 'em when they're already down, don't say mean things (unless they do first), and please, c'mon, don't kill 'em. No one likes a bum killer. Especially Jesus, he'll be so mad at you.

Dr. Funkenstein, King of the Funk, yeah!

We love to funk you, Funkenstein. Your funk is the best!

YEEEEEEAAAAAAHH!!! I got to see George Clinton and the Parliament Funkadelic (for FREE!!!) Saturday night with my buddy Ty! YAY! Oh my gosh, it was incredible! Let me tell you a little bit about the amount of funk that went down. Oh yeah! And it went down, down, down. Mmmm! It was great!

So, Saturday was a pretty great day in general. Woke up, 8 miles, Cheerios, reading, guitar, nap, wine, Wicker Park Fest, vodka-filled Slurpees with Mariko and gang, then line to George Clinton. Oh boy! So, the doors were supposed to open at 9, they opened at 10. Then the show was supposed to start at 10, but it started at 11:15, and no real complaints here except that my buzz had worn off by the show's start and my feet were a tad tired. I was still ready to get down and funk-funk-funky!!

The crowd was outrageous!! There are some dedicated funksters out there! And I loved it! Everyone was funked out and geared up to dance the night away (and that we did as the show didn't end until 2:30ish - whoa!). My two favorite people was this gay pirate couple. They weren't really pirates, but they totally could've been! Two graying men with bald-ish heads. One was wearing some black Funkadelic shirt, had some scruff to his face, and wore circular wire-rimmed glasses. The other was a Mr. Clean-type with a graying goatee, and he wore a loose-fitting striped collared button-down shirt. Pirate #1, the scruffy one, chatted with me and Ty and inquired as to if we'd ever been to a GC and P-Funk show before, we both hadn't and he said we were in for a good time. He told us that we wouldn't be able to help but dance. We told him we planned on getting really funky, and he said good. Within 5 minutes of the show starting, the black shirt was off and the buttons were undone and the funkin' commenced. It was pretty great, especially since Pirate 1 kept dancing by with a huge smile on his face to make sure we were still dancing and having fun. It didn't so much matter that he was the sweatiest person there and he kept slickin' up against us; he had such a great personality! Around 1:45 when he spun around again his shirt was tied around his head like a turban. I wanted to take him home and make him my best friend!

Then there was this drunk lady that kept trying to dance with Ty, but he really didn't want to dance with her. So while I was laughing at him and her failed attempts, he kept smacking her away, but she would keep stumbling back. Eventually she moved through the crowd and found herself a couple boyfriends for the night. It was ridiculous, and slightly disgusting!


At any given time there were 7-15 people on this small stage, all funkin'. It was great. Grooving and jamming on their instruments. George Clinton looked like a teddy bear grandpa, conducting his legion of funky-wunky groovers with a li'l more here, a li'l softer there motions. Then Sir Nose came out, and things got real crazy. His pants were down reeeeeeeeeeal low, it was exciting but also a little worrisome that he might expose himself, and I just didn't know what was going to happen next for a lot of the show. But this! Sir Nose brought some ladies up on stage and grinded them into the ground. Whoa. It was - yeah, whoa a little too much on that for me because you couldn't help but watch even though you didn't want to. It's like when your friends have you over for Thanksgiving dinner at the neighbor's house and you're all in the basement drinking wine and putting sweaters on the dogs and then you stumble up the stairs to leave and people are in the living room watching some German porn with naked people sitting in sugar, drinking tea with mice running around. Yeah.... so, the concert. The costumes the lights. The music - well, duh! The music! It was sooooooo funky!!! Truly a phenomenal show and I'm really glad that I was able to experience it. I've always wanted to see George and his Allstars since the movie PCU came out. Outrageous, incredible and super funkadelic. I can see why they have such a strong following. And! The fact that this man is well into his 60s and still funkin' night after night. I was very impressed. I don't have any of their albums but I do enjoy everything I've heard as I'm a fan of the funk, and the shout outs to the king of funk, Mr. James Brown happened through the night; it was good, real good.

It was hard to keep the dancing steady into the 2nd hour. I wanted to stop. I wanted to leave because I was so tired, but at the same time I didn't want to miss a thing. Like that Aerosmith song. So I stayed. And I flailed my tired bones this way and that. And it was excellent!!

I said, shit! Goddamn! Get off your ass and jam!

Shit! Goddamn! Get off your ass and jam!

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HOW FUN! HOW FUN!! What a great Saturday!! Funkin', jammin', rockin', jazzin', groovin', movin'. POWERFUL STUFF!!! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!!

SWOOSH! The year of Michael Jordan!

I never blogged about my birthday, which was last Wednesday. I'm 23 - hooray, hoorah! Twenty Something, yes I am! Exciting times. At first I was a little worried about my celebration, it looked like I wouldn't be able to celebrate with friends because people were either working, or out of town, and I let everyone know a little late that I wanted to celebrate. All turned out well - amazing, actually, and we had a grand ole time!!

Let me start out with a little story. This happened Tuesday night, fading into Wednesday morning. I wanted to go to bed kind of early, because I knew I would be raging on Wednesday night (and I did, oh boy. And I did.). Here's what I sent in an email to my little 15-year-old brother:

**I had a rude awakening last night. The smoke detector was going off, obnoxiously. Ya see, I have this roommate who is less than pleasant to live with, and he has very bizarre habits and sleeping patterns, and he was burning something in the oven 'round midnight (HAPPY BIRTHDAY. BEEP BEEP BEEP!). He didn't know it was my birthday because I try to avoid conversations with him at all cost, as they usually turn into how crazy he is and I get frustrated that he never cleans up after himself. Anyway, so it's beeping, and I hear him muttering obscenities to himself and fanning the smoke away. Then he bangs on my door and says, "Kate! Kate!" And I say, "What?! Filthy!" really exasperated, y'know cause he just woke me up. "I think the carbon monoxide detector is going off, and I think we should go outside." And I said, "What?" and proceeded to get out of bed to talk to him in the hall. The kitchen was filled with smoke, and I said, "I'm pretty sure it's just the smoke detector, Filthy. Maybe you should open some windows, and turn a fan on. I think we'll be okay." He didn't seem very satisfied with that answer, but took it. Then, I got back in bed, and the alarm went off another 3 times. I looked at my clock and it read 12:03. I thought, "Happy Birthday to me." And then I hoped it really wasn't the carbon monoxide and that I would live to see my 23rd year completed. **

I was really too tired to worry about it, but then I wished that I had a canary or some small bird to test the air to make sure it was safe. I can't believe he thought it was the carbon monoxide. I mean, this kid is daft.

Okay. So I woke up and got ready for work, just like any other day. Oh, but I'm 23 now. I think I just need to write that sentence a few times to let it sink in. But I won't do it here, it's something that I need to write, with a pen or a pencil. You know, like when you had to write sentences in elementary school for getting in a fight with Nicole behind the music room in fifth grade, on the playground, by the chain link fence. Actually, that was really hush, hush and we never got in trouble. Awesome!

Got to work. My friend, Mike, brought me a piece of cake and a funny card, and some weird gummy bacon - strawberry flavored. Thanks? No, no. It was really nice and I wasn't expecting it. So that was fun. Then I proceeded to get a lot of calls/texts/emails throughout the day and I felt sooooo special.

After work, I went to H&M and bought an outfit for the evening. Talked to my mom on the phone, on the bus. Went for a run. Got ready. Met a few friends at The Parthenon, this restaurant that my family's gone to since I was a little bitty baby. We got saganaki, OOPA! and wine, and delicious, DELICIOUS everything. Then, I got a song and a piece of baklava with a candle. Fun times!

Post-dinner we went to see Flosstradamus play at the Abbey Pub (my friends Ali and Libby work there and were able to get us in), and it was INCREDIBLE!!! Wow. He was spinnin' tunes from back in the day, making me feel like a teenager, without all the feelings of a real life emotional teenager, and mixin' it up with new funk. I've never sweated so much outside of a gym, or maybe even in a gym. It was pretty disgusting, but I was having too much fun to care. He rocked, we rocked. Afterwards I shook his hand - and he's going to be at ROTHBURY!! That'll be fun.

Then we danced in the street and went back to the house I lived in this past summer, that my friends still reside in, and played Taboo. I got home 'round 3:30 - 4, and it felt real nice.

I slept in the next day. Read, played my guitar, drank lots of water, wrote my profiles from a coffee shop up the street, went for a run, and relaxed. A great way to spend the day if I say so myself.

23 - MICHAEL JORDAN - BEST YEAR OF MY LIFE, THUS FAR! AMAAAAAAAZING!!!

Seriously, Scion?

Yeah, okay, number one I got home a while ago and I was thinking about going to my computer, and I thought I needed to twirl my long hair to one side so it wouldn't get in way of the computer. But then, wait. I cut all my hair off. And it's gone. And it'll take me a million and three years to grow out again, and by the time it does I'll probably be sick of long hair again, but it might be nice to brush it and french braid it. Y'know, I'm listening to Party Favs on the Music Channel, and the first song was RHCP "Give It Away," and I was so happy I was listening to my own music, and now it's "Blinded Me W/Science" by... hold on, it's poetry in motion, Thomas Dolby, and in 1982 he played keyboards for Def Leoppard and shit -- Foreigner. Rock on, rocker!

I am in no state to be blogging right now. Only on to apparently solidify my creepy internet behavior, such as #1) opening and following through with my own blog, which the 1s and 0s of the cyber-abyss judge, and #2) paying for a profile on match.com... wow. Really? The last ridiculous drunken purchase was seasons 1-3 of Taxi (not even the whole series) one of my first nights out in Chicago this past summer, my cabbie had never heard of the sitcom, what since he was from an eastern African country and all. I have to admit, I was disappointed that I couldn't recollect and enjoy the comedic stylings of Andy Kauf(f)man(n) and Danny Devito with someone else... so I got home and click-ee-dee-clacked on amazon.com Used&More Used and zipp-ity-zap, I'm watching Tony Danza's tight ass (as Tony Banta) in some bell-bottoms... and Jeff Conway, man. That guy's had it rough. To think he and Travolta used to be the best of buds, and now Dr. Drew's telling him "No" J.C.... whoa. He's J.C. Where was this all going?

Yes. "Funky town." Speaking of. Has anyone ever heard of this, putting sneakers in the freezer? Seriously?! Seriously. Craigslist, what did you get me into in my roommate situation? I almost hate my house... action will be taken tomorrow? I was going to give him a day, I thought it was getting better. His mother came. And then the sneakers, the donut he ate, the beers he drank, the joy he stole out of my glorious apartment... I just don't want it to be the straw, breaking the back of the craziest, most aggrevating camel, ever, most flithy, and destructive was the word I was looking for.

Inappropriate. My apologies. This more than enough and then some. You keep it real. 10010 01011 01011010 101001001111100!!! 01010! 010111000! 11000?!? 10100011!!!

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