Sprizee :: A simple girl replete with complications

My mind is going. Or it isn't. Or it is.

Either I'm crazy or all the people at my office are crazy.  I'm going with me because what's the likelihood of 40 unrelated people all working at the same place and going mad on the same day?  Oh, wait.  Maybe the 2 cell towers on the roof of our building change the odds on that one.  Well, whatever.

Today a coworker, who drives a VW Golf, told me her car is much bigger than mine.  Huh?  Her VW Golf is BIGGER than my VW Passat?  Please, InternetS, solve this dilemma for us. 

Today as I walked past the receptionist she stop me and asked if I'd gone to my office yet.  "Yes", I replied to which she responded, "Is the CEO in his?"  "Huh?  I don't know", I said to which she replied, "Oh, I thought you said you'd been to your office", to which I replied, "I have, but you asked me about the CEO and his office.  How would I know about that?", to which she replied, "Nevermind", like I was the person talking in tongues.  For the record in no way shape or form is my office on the way to the CEO's office.  In no way, people.

Today I sent an email to accounting telling them how much money we raised for NW Harvest and asking for a matching amount from the company.  Accounting replied back that they need an invoice to process this request.  Since I've made this request several times before in the past 2 plus years that I've work here I didn't know what she meant by an invoice.  I replied back saying I'd be happy to assist her but could she specifically tell me what she meant by an invoice.  Her response back was that she needed an email outlining what the check was for.  I replied with an email that included the original email message I had sent, adding no additional information.  Then she replied back with a huge THANKS!

Calgon Bailey's Irish Cream, take me away. 

WWWTD?

Today wasn't going so well and so, by lunch, I had decided to skip out on the farewell office party for someone at Chili's (where the Office Space references to FLAIR! are too ironic not to be pointed out here).  Instead I headed over to the gym to run off some steam.  I figured it was either that, or punch a few coworkers square in the jaw.  I think we can both agree option A is better when you prefer not to be fired. 

Before that I was trying to focus on work but I kept getting distracted thinking about a coworker that makes 72k a year (that's pre-commission mind you) and is always coming in late, leaving early, or taking personal calls on her speaker phone with her door open while using her outside voice.  So, generally feeling unmotivated to get any actual work done I started researching how I could escape.

Long story short, I could really use a vacation.  Luckily for me, in 2 months I'll be on a beach in Thailand. Unluckily for me, that's 2 more months until I'm actually on vacation.  And more unluckily for me, my bad day turned worse as I was leaving the gym.  Because, apparently, my car isn't through throwing me curve balls. 

Today after I unlocked the driver's side door, I couldn't get the damn thing shut again.  The latch was stuck and whatever I did, I couldn't get it to budge.  So, I ended up driving from the gym back to my office with the door ajar, holding the door semi-shut with one hand and steering with the other.  It was awesome.  I highly recommend it if you enjoy having strangers make contorted concerned faces in your general direction while using their free hands to honk, pointing out the obvious for no good reason.  Honk at me when I forgot to turn my lights on genius.  Not when I'm holding my door shut with my left hand. 

When I got back to the office and told a couple of my coworkers my sob story, they offered to help.  Thankfully one of them was able to jam the stupid lock back into place.  As I was recounting driving back from the gym, trying not to go crazy from the incessant interior warning system of "the door is ajar" dinging and describing the look on the faces of the people that were gawking at me, my coworker shook his head and said, "Yea, your gym has high end folks.  They don't know any better.  If some white trash person saw you driving around like that, they wouldn't honk or stare, they'd just feel bad for you, shake their head and say, 'Ooh, I'd been there before.'"  And I just had to laugh because he was totally right.

Spamosity

For those of you that use gmail on a regular basis, you know that text ads appear and sync up with whatever text is alreadly displaying on your screen.  So yesturday, I was in my SPAM folder deleting everything because that folder is always filled with crap when I noticed the following:

Spam Fajitas - Serves 8, add extra salsa if desired

Way to go Google.  Proof that taking things literally doesn't always work out for the best.  Don't tell me you would not have clicked the link.  It's impossible to resist the call of curiosity.

My robot eats dirt and likes it.

The Dude's mom gave us a Roomba for Christmas.  Now, I may be way off base here, but I think I have major issues because I WAS TOTALLY EXCITED ABOUT SOMEONE GIVING US A VACUUM CLEANER AS A GIFT!  Yes, issues, my friends. After arriving home we plugged Buster in to charge him up.  (Yes, I named the vacuum cleaner we received as a gift this Christmas.  Scroll up.  I didn't say I have an issue.  I said issueS.)  Then we spent the better part of yesterday watching him vacuum the floor.  After about 40 minutes, when I awoke from my geek induced robot stalking coma, I realized I was actually entertaining myself by watching a vacuum cleaner vacuum and I quickly got bored. 

Then we threw in some episodes of Lost: Season One we hadn't seen yet (a Christmas present I bought for me The Dude) and turned up the sound so we could hear the freaky Lost sound effects over Buster's sucking roar.  But what's really pathetic is I'm totally excited to go home so I can figure out how to program Buster to clean once a day while I'm at work.  It's like I'm Judy Jetson without that silly ponytail sticking out of the top of my head.  Minus the jet pack.  Minus the jet car.  Minus the brother.  Minus the date with a pop star named Jet Screamer that ends up being chaperoned by my father while Jet sings his latest smash hit "EEP APP ORK AH-AH and that means I love you".  Hey, it could be worse. 

iBudget

Say you're still doing some last minute shopping?  Say you can't afford a $400 gift for your loved ones?  Say your credit card is still smoking from all that Veteran's Day shopping?  Have no fear.   iBudget to the rescue.  Some assembly (and a good pair of scissors) required.

Yes I'm working today because I am that dedicated my company doesn't believe Christmas Eve is a holiday (and hates baby Jesus).  Merry Christmas!

Stella! STELLLLAAAAAAHHHH!

I've had this huge knot in my back since Monday that will not go away NO MATTER WHAT I DO.  I've tried heat packs, changing positions every 3 minutes, staying up until 3AM, Extra Strength Tylenol, IBProferen, massages from The Dude, crying.  Nada.  This knot won't reason with anyone or anything.  (I'm starting to think it's not human.  What?  It's not human.  C'mon!) 

So today I finally broke down and made an appointment with my doctor. This is the same doctor who last time I went in for an exam, and then proceed to explain how every few weeks I get these horrible knots in my neck, and that once it was so bad I was forced to visit the ER, this very same doctor, told me I should try yoga or heat packs.  If she pulls that yoga crap on me today,  I'm breaking up with her. 

True that! Double true!

People that know me know that I rarely send or forward emails with video clips, or jokes, or recipes, or what have you.  But when The Dude IM'd me this video clip yesterday I couldn't resist.  He had missed the original airing on Saturday night since he was at the office overseeing a launch and my rendition of it at 1 something AM when he finally got home really didn't do it justice.  Yes, you heard that correctly.  The Man was making The Dude work between 11:00PM-1:00AM ON A SATURDAY THE DAY AFTER THE COMPANY PARTY but that's a story for another post. 

The first person to respond to my email was Egan.  Egan made me cry when his response was, and I'm summarizing, "I haven't seen that movie yet and I think I'm too old for SNL.  I think I was too old for SNL 10 years ago."  I feel him on the SNL isn't what it used to be point but after I saw this short on SNL Saturday my sides hurt so much from all the laughing, and yet, I WANTED MORE.   I don't think actually seeing the movie would enhance the joke.  White guys rapping about going to see a Disney flick and macking on some cupcakes, funny enough.

The second person to mention the video was Kirk, though I don't think I sent him the clip but only because he's so totally on top of everything the InternetS has to offer, so it's not worth my time unless my goal in life is to fill up his inbox with duplications.  Kirk's response included the following quote, "You can call us Aaron Burr from the way we're dropping Hamiltons!".  Well said Kirk, well said.

The third person to respond to my email was Wheelson.  Wheelson's response included the lyrics and the equivalent of a VH1 Behind The Music.  Yet another reason why I love the InternetS.

Wrap up this post and I'm Ghost like Swayze.  Spriz out.

What's the traffic report for the mall parking lot?

Today was supposed to be the go to the mall during lunch to finish any of that last minute Christmas shopping day.  It was going to be quick and painless.  Then my coworkers decided they wanted to join me.  We left sometime around noon.  We got back about 15 minutes ago.  Oh, and we had to grab lunch at some fast food place on the way back, to go, because apparently, three hours isn't enough time to fit in lunch too. 

But on the up side of things, one of my coworker's wife will be getting a lovely $300 Kitchen-Aid Waffle Maker from Williams Sonoma.  Of course, I told him to just wrap up some Bisquick mix and hide the flour iron in another room on Christmas Day.  I wish I could be there to see the look on her face when she upwraps that big box of flour.  Because nothing says Merry Christmas Honey, I LOVE YOU! like a big box of sugary flour.

One of my coworkers went to see U2 in Portland last night.  Jealous.  Another one of my coworkers is currently in Kaui, Hawaii and won't be flying back until 12/25.  Jealous.  And another one of my coworkers is flying to Hawaii on Christmas Eve.  Jealous.  So very, very jealous.  Is it Christmas yet?

Check that list twice.

Remember, there's only 6 shopping days left until...holiday. 

Merry Christmas from Seattle!

Ich heiße Super Fantastische

Seattle's local stock photography company sure knows how to throw a party at Seattle's local museum of flight.  (I guess Well's Fargo was also having a party there last night, but dude!  Wells Fargo?  You stink.  Who throws a party at the Museum of Flight in the lame-o auditiorium?  Note to self:  Never work at Wells Fargo.)  So, as soon as we stepped inside we were directed to the cool party.  They had us walk down a red carpet and all these people started snapping our picture.  There was one guy who was just taking pictures of my feet.  It was slightly surreal and it made me realize being a celebrity would totally bite.  Well, except for all the money and power.  Okay, you've got a point.  Anyways...

Once past the photographers, you have no idea how excited I was to find a black and white photobooth.  I mean, it was right up there with how excited I was when I found out there was not only a bar made out of ice, but also a pasta bar AND a mashed potato bar, serving two different types of mashed potatos with various toppings...IN MARTINI GLASSES.  At one point I turned to The Dude and asked him to pinch me.  I was in photographic, carb cramming, shoe loving heaven.  It was wonderful.

Proof that it wasn't a dream