I don't like people playin' on my phone!

I attended a CLE yesterday, which should have been fun because hey, it's not work, right? There was crazy-bad inclement weather, and it took me nearly an hour to go halfway across town. The parking lot and walkways were lakes, and my pants and shoes were soaked. The upside of this is that I did meet a woman in the bathroom and had an interesting discussion on galoshes with her. Also, it turns out she used to work for a place I was interested in applying at. She gave me her opinion of the work atmosphere...good to know. I almost gave her a card! Anyway, that was about the extent of my networking.

I was exhausted when I got home, so I set an alarm clock so I could take a nap (which, as we all know, I don't believe in). I got two phone calls in thirty minutes (one from work, one from a friend), so I finally got up.

I was really tired when I turned in for the night. My phone rang at 11:29. I answered to hear a young girl who sounded like she had whooping cough demanding to know who I was.

You've got the wrong number.

[cough cough] Who is this? [hack hack] You ******, you tell me who you are.

You definitely have the wrong number.

I hung up. Wow. I mean, technically, when I was thirteen I knew bad words, but I never would have called someone and said them over the phone. Much less repeatedly. While I had a cough.

11:31 - She called back! TWICE! AND left me two voice mails with similar obscenity-laced coughing spells. I mean, I have my name on my voice mail, so you'd think if she was listening at all, she would know who I am.

At 3:00, Tess climbed the bookcase in the bedroom and knocked over a box of office supplies. You know - push pins, staples, letter openers, etc. All sharp and pointy things. I decided to ignore it until I got up.

At 4:30, an alarm started going off. In the living room. ??? Oh yeah, the unsuccessful nap. I went and turned it off, then got back into bed. I glanced at my bedside alarm and noticed I hadn't set it when I went to sleep. Wow, this was lucky that my nap alarm went off. Otherwise I'd be late for work, right?

5:45 - all my alarms started going off again. I turned them all off and turned on the tv. Where was the morning show? Why was this an infomercial? I eventually realized that today was Saturday, and also, I was an idiot. I managed to fall back asleep with a mild headache after attempting to kick my own butt for being so dumb.

9:00 - the phone rings. It's Ms. Hack-man. With more cursing and coughing. I almost told her she should go see about that TB because like, TB is serious. I held the phone away from my ear, hoping I couldn't get TB via phone line. I again told her she had the wrong number, no I wasn't the ***** named Miranda, and hung up. I held my breath and waited for the inevitable call back. So far, nothing. But now I can't go back to sleep. And I'm exhausted and have a headache and used the last of my ibuprofen last night.

At this point, I'm ready to have keeping it real go wrong (link goes to video). At least in prison, it seems unlikely I'd get prank calls from someone with TB.

Friday Cat Blogging: A confession

I've been so busy at work, I pretty much just handed over the blog to Misha (prior evidence here). So, if the work product has improved substantially, you'll know who to credit.

So far I haven't been able to teach Tess to type. Too young, I guess.

Mustang Sally

I drive by several auto dealerships on my way to work, and I often see the salesmen sitting around outside. Yesterday, I realized I never see any women car salesmen, er, saleswomen (besides the girls in car commercials). I'm sure they exist somewhere, but it made me wonder if women would be more likely to buy cars from women. If there was only one woman at a dealership, would she sell more cars than a guy? Would a guy be turned off by the fact a woman knew more about the car than he did? Or would he try to negotiate a better price, thinking he did know more than her?

Up a creak

I got a new purse last week. I really like it, except the leather straps are kind of creaky right now until they get broken in. It's like when you wear shoes that squeak. I feel really self-conscious. It probably doesn't help that the purse is also lime green.

The Feds

Hmm. I had a FedEx door tag on my doorknob when I got home. I'm not expecting anything, at least, nothing that would come in a FedEx package.

It's a drag, though, because my apartment office doesn't open until 8:30 (provided they open on time). It takes me approximately half an hour to get to work. At best, I could get to work by 9:00. We're not supposed to be on flex-time without prior approval anymore, and I could probably get away with it today and just explain it once I got there, but my intern will be here today, and I'm the first one in our section. Rats.

The office closes at 5:30 (although I've seen them close up to half an hour early), and getting home always takes longer than going in. So...not really sure what to do. Seems like a gamble to wait.

First of all, the suspense and mystery alone is killing me. Second, they sent it second-day. Seems like it would be moderately important. Like, less than a kidney but more than a t-shirt I ordered online (which I didn't...I don't think). Arrghhhhh - I don't know what to doooooooo.

Hooray beer!

Guess what - I did a good job today at work! I know, that shouldn't be such a big announcement, but I'm so used to wondering what I spent that 87 grand on when I come home every night. My boss is very hands-on and is a heavy-duty reviser. But finally, after seven months of employment, with the end in sight, I got something right the first go round!!!

To celebrate? I ate ramen. Mmmmm, ramen.

Hot dog on a stick!

I watched Deal or No Deal the other night for the first time ever. It was...sadly compelling. But this episode was neat-o because they got some person off the street to play. Actually, they went inside a mall and found this girl working at a place called Hot Dog on A Stick. Essentially, it's a corn dog. I guess "Corn dog on a stick" was already taken or something. Weird. So they had these really stripey uniforms and crazy bucket hats. The girl they picked to play had a twin sister. They had been working at Hot Dog on A Stick for 9 years! Each! Anyway, I thought I'd share that.

Yesterday I found Chick-o-Sticks in the grocery store!!! Of course, I had to buy some and ate three pieces last night. Unfortunately, they're not quite as I remembered them. I don't especially like coconut, but I guess it didn't bother me as a kid. *sigh* I guess I'll have to eat the whole bag anyway.

You mean I'm gonna stay this color?

Another great McIdea - nose treads for glasses. Maybe it's just people like me with an undefined bridge, but I have a hard time keeping glasses where I want them. Sure, they can adjust them behind the ears, but I don't like them pulling on my ears. I also don't want to hold them up by having my frames squeeze my head.

So I'm proposing nosepiece treads. Just a little something to grip your nose. I'm not sure what it would be, maybe neoprene?

Anyway, if anyone's thinking of starting a class-action against me, I'm judgment proof.

Friday Cat Blogging: Friday Cat Bagging

I miss spring break.

Office space ideas

My other good idea is a triangular trashcan, so it sits right in the corner. You know, it'd be like those corner tables. A corner trashcan would be a lot more useful than the coat rack I have at work. I would rather have a more comfortable chair than a coat rack. Really, I don't know why we all have coat racks but I can't get a chair that has adjustable arm rests.

Another office improvement: plexiglass doors like the ones to the penalty box in hockey. You could install it in your cube opening, so you'd at least have a door and it'd feel less cube-y. Plus, you could bust out at 5:00 like you were jumping back on the ice. I actually asked to do this once (at the union job), and was denied. Stupid unions. I then asked if I could put up a tension rod and hang a shower curtain across the opening of my cube. Denied. Again. Stupid unions.

I'm not really sure how pneumatic tubes (like the kind at the bank drive-thru) would be useful, but I think every office should have some. It just seems cool. Actually, didn't they use something like that in 1984?

If I were a rich girl

So, I've thought of several good ideas that could make me a lot of money. Some are legal (probably), and some are probably not. But I lay them out for your consideration anyway.

1. A small vending machine approximately the size of a dorm fridge or microwave. I'd stock it with the fun size candies, and charge, like a quarter for a fun size Snickers.

2. A liquor truck. It'd be like the ice cream truck, except adults could run after it and buy mixed drinks. Maybe it's just me, but I don't drink enough mixed drinks to justify having a ton of mixers around. I don't know if sour mix ever goes old, but I've had some that are older than Tess. So I'm a little leery of using them. It'd just be better to have a liquor truck. Or a coffee truck, like a traveling barista.

3. An online sock service. You know, for all those mateless socks you have. Perhaps we could find matches online. At first, I was going to say we could donate them to one of those organizations who give shoes to people who only have one foot (thus they have a lot of leftover shoes), but then I remembered that, duh, socks are interchangeable. I still think the swap service is a good idea, though.

Thank you very much, Mr. Roboto

For some reason, I continually surprise my coworkers. Today I mentioned a cartoon I saw in the Parade magazine. It had two cats, and one cat said, "We don't even purr about the same things anymore." I don't think that's a cartoon! That's sad!

Anyway, I had barely gotten past "a cartoon I saw in the Parade magazine," when my coworker stopped me. Apparently, she thought she misheard me. She couldn't believe a) I read Parade magazine and b) the big fluffy dog cartoon. I asked her why, and she said she just didn't see me as the kind of person who would read the cartoons. ???!!!

Coupled with the knowledge that my coworkers also intrigued by the facts I drink beer and watch America's Next Top Model, I'm beginning to piece together their picture of me, which is:

I'm not funny. I don't enjoy funny. I also don't enjoy brain candy tv. I sit at home and drink Diet Dr. Peppers and watch PBS and read the dictionary.

Weird. I mean, by now, most of the time, coworkers know how goofy I am. Maybe they didn't get that when I put up Anne Taintor and Hello Kitty magnets, Monty Python page-a-day pages, and New Yorker cartoons. Clearly, I don't enjoy humor. Which is why a coworker also suggested I Netflix Curb Your Enthusiasm?

Maybe I'm just missing something here. Feel free to discuss.

Short people got nobody

I've started exercising, mainly to be able to put on a particular pair of pants again without the pockets bunching up. I've been using the treadmill at the complex. Nothing fancy, just really fast walking, and doing some hill climbing.

They have a tv with cable in the room, so that's pretty nice. Well, it would be, if I could reach the buttons. I'm either stuck watching whatever the last person was watching (it always seems to be BET or sports, and never hockey), or exercising without anything to look at except how much longer I have to exercise.

I've thought about taking a yardstick in to push the buttons. Or maybe getting a universal remote. Or wearing stilts. Or, as a link I received today helpfully suggested, renting a Vandy center.

Well, let me tell you something, my Kraut Mick friend. I'm gonna make so much trouble for you, you won't know what hit you!

Happy St. Pat's!

A history of hair

I was a blonde (briefly and unfortunately) in high school. Then I was a maroon (almost as briefly), then a pink (for a long time and unfortunately). Finally, I was an orange before I came to my senses and started dying my hair my natural color. If only I had taken this quiz in high school.

You Are Blonde Highlights

Men see you as flexible and versatile - you fit in to every situation You've got the inner glow of a blonde, the intensity of a redhead... And the wisdom of a brunette.

How Blonde Are You?

Friday Cat Blogging: Breakfast

Poor Misha. I caught him right in the middle of eating. It's as bad as someone asking you a question right after you've taken a big bite of your food.

McPan: now 15% more professional!

I'm seriously thinking about getting some cards like this. At least people would remember me!

World (Meat) Market

I was eating lunch at a steakhouse kind of place and the table next to me had three IT-looking guys. You know, blue shirts, sleeves rolled up, no tie, khakis, and one guy with a ponytail. All three wore glasses. Anyway, there were two white guys and an Asian guy. At one point, I overheard one white guy telling the Asian guy, "I'll make you my spicy Mexican!" I thought, whoa, that's weird. So I tuned in. It turns out they were just talking about cooking for each other. Bummer, because whatever else that could have meant probably would have been a lot more interesting.

Network news

I had an "informal lunch" with the head of a place I'm interested in working at. One of my supervising attorneys set it up for me. I thought that was really nice. Yeah, I didn't get that through my own networking skills.

Anyway -

• Pros: A job! Doing something I think is really awesome! Actually, doing two things I think are really awesome!
  
• Cons: They don't have an opening right now. Also, I already feel woefully underqualified. I feel like I should give them a disclaimer on my resume or something, about how my brain looks better on paper than in your office.

She gave me her card. I felt a little embarrassed that I didn't have a card, but I didn't see the need to get a bunch printed up. I mean, what's it going to say? McPan, Attorney-at-Law, HAHAHAHAHA? Plus, when I moved into this job, I discovered in my desk a gazillion business cards my predecessor had printed up and never used. Isn't a post-it with my name and number good enough? I usually have post-its on hand.

The ambiguously straight, uh, solo?

My coworkers were stunned to discover I watch America's Next Top Model. They were flabbergasted when I said I was, in fact, addicted to the show.

Really, is it so hard to believe I have girly interests? It's not like I use the men's room or paint on a mustache (at least, not every morning). I mean, I wear dresses and heels most days (even if I'm wearing pants), makeup every day, and only drink diet drinks. Sure, I drive a truck, have a fridge stocked with beer, soda, and expired cream cheese, and tend to eat most of my food straight out of the microwave. That doesn't mean I'm well on my way to manhood or anything.

But what's even stranger is when I told them I prefer beer over other drinks, they were shocked. What, I'm not girly enough for ANTP but not manly enough for PBR?

----------------
What's everybody looking at?
Nothing!

Enquiring minds want to know!

Remember the departing coworker whose chair I thought about nicking? Right. The other day, I received a phone call at work for him (he sat around the corner, so it was kind of odd they called my desk).

This is Elaine.

Former Coworker, please.

Um...he no longer works here.

Oh. That explains a few things.

Click.

No, wait! Tell me more! What things?

Rats. That was like the highlight of my afternoon, and I didn't even get any gossip.

Friday Cat Blogging: Catnapping

Excuse me, I believe you have my stapler

At the grocery store the other day, I was standing in front of the hippie macaroni (some organic stuff or something), when a guy who kind of looked like Milton approached me. Seriously. Except this guy had on a fake Members Only windbreaker on.

Excuse me.

Um, yes?

Were you just at Starbucks?

Um...yes?

I thought I recognized you!

Oh. Uh...

Ha ha, wow, what are the odds? Wait, you're not following me, are you?

No. It appears to be the other way around.

Oh, right. Uhhh...

[wheels squeaking as I beat a hasty retreat to some other hippie food aisle]

Netiquette

What do you do if you've already met someone and you get introduced to them again?

Sometimes I say something like, Oh, I think we've met before! That way it sounds like you're not sure, and so no one has to feel awkward. That response is ok for someone that maybe you've really just met a couple of times, or had a conversation or two with. Especially if you don't remember their name, either.

But if you previously worked for them? Oh, we've met before! Don't you remember? You said that was the most worthless memo you've ever read!

If you say something like Nice to see you again, you clearly expect them to at least vaguely recall you. What if they have no idea who you are? What does that mean? You have a great memory and they don't? You're not as memorable as you think you are? Even with all your hijinks? Seriously, how could anyone not remember me, at least for something? So yes, I think that I'm a little bit memorable. For one thing, this place isn't teeming with Asians. You'd think they'd at least mistake me for some other Asian.

My reverse fear is that if I assume someone won't remember me because maybe we only worked together once or twice or maybe they're really super-important and I'm not, and I pretend the introduction is the first one, they'll think I don't think enough of them to remember them. And then they'll mentally scratch me off of their list of "people to remember."

Yeah...this whole networking thing hasn't really panned out so far.

Smells like

As I was blogging about the new Rx-strength Secret, I realized that I've been through a lot of deodorant changes during this blog's lifetime. I also realized that I am easily swayed by the media.

Soft & Dri Power Caps - I tried this because I saw a picture in a magazine. I think it had a picture of a pink truck. Or maybe a girl playing tennis. Somehow, this intrigued me.

Secret Platinum Soft Solid - Always the reliable fall-back. Except they stopped making Ambition flavor. I think that's when I lost my ambition. Also, the dial gets greasy by the end.

Adidas Absorbent-Deo - I think I saw an ad for this in a magazine as well. I tried it because my sister was sure I was going to get cancer if I kept using Secret.

Dove Ultimate Clear - I was suckered into the "no white marks!" ads. While it makes fewer white marks, it also provided no absorbing or deodorizing. Eww.

Degree Ultra Clear - Sadly, I actually started using this because of all the World Series of Poker shows I watched, mainly during the hurricane evacuation. Hey, Degree sponsored the WSOP! I felt that I needed to give back or something. Plus, I like to think pretty much every minute I live is a Degree All-in Degree Moment. Especially if I'm driving.

Mitchum Smart Solid - Again, suckered by a magazine. It has an odd goopy feel when you put it on (how is it a solid, yet a liquid? It's almost as bad as those Liquid Ice commercials). It dries within a minute or two, but that's entirely too long for me. I don't think it made white marks. Again, it didn't really do much absorbing. Strangely, though, I would occasionally get a whiff of my "Rosepetal" deodorant. At least we know it's doing that. I would wear this again, but it'd have to be, like, during the winter when I don't sweat as much. Rosebud!

So I'm back to wearing Degree Ultra Clear for the moment. It's ok. Not as great as Secret Platinum, but that gooey dial was too much for me.

International woman of mystery

I caught the last half of a great program on Justice Talking about international adoption. As most of you know, I'm adopted. Internationally - ooh la la. That makes me "exotic."

I don't usually listen to NPR at night because I'm not that big of a nerd. And even though I'm a lawyer (insert laugh track), I don't listen to Justice Talking very much, although I do admit to attending a taping of it once. It was really weird to see how radio works. It's not really like Fraiser. Or at least, not the taping I saw. I've always wanted to see Science Friday being taped, but (obviously) it's taped on Friday, and I've always had work or school or something.

In some ways, I think certain restrictions on adoption are absolutely asinine. Like physical health, age, or marital status. Sure, those things matter to some degree, but it's completely stupid to say "no lesbians can adopt" or "I'm sorry you're divorced and single. No kids for you!" It's not like anyone's out there stopping the suppliers from multiplying because they're single, overweight, whatever-sexual, have diabetes, etc.

I have a friend who has been doing foster-to-adopt ("rent-to-own") for a couple of years now, but every child that's been placed with her and her husband has been reunited with its parents. I guess that's good, but it also makes me sad for my friend. I mean, there was a reason why the kid was taken out of its home to begin with, right? And shouldn't someone who actually wants a kid deserve a kid? My friends are teachers. They don't have the money to adopt overseas, which may have been quicker than this whole layaway process. I know it doesn't sound nice, but sometimes I'm annoyed when people go on and on about spending thousands and thousands of dollars on engineering "their" baby in the lab rather than just adopting the pre-made kind. Maybe it's because I'm not related by blood to my family that I don't have some desire to further the McPan Genome Project. Why is having "your" kid better than any other old kid? Anyway, just my personal feelings. Or maybe it's because my mom made me a t-shirt that read "Made in Korea" when I was little, and I want to pass that kind of humor onto some other kid. Also, I posit that Asian toddlers are cuter than all others.

Anyhoo, if you're at all interested in adopting, I suggest downloading the show. It's a little under an hour long, but it covers lots of different aspects, and it's very interesting.

And because you were wondering, I was supposed to be a "special needs" adoptee. Unfortunately for my parents, I turned out to be normal in the physical aspect but special needs in personality. I have attention deficit disorder - I need a lot of attention. Clearly.

Strong enough for a really sweaty man, but made for a really sweaty woman?

Secret is launching a prescription-strength deodorant. While I think that's nifty (I'm a big deodorant experimenter, unless it comes to some major event, in which case, I have to use my lucky one), I was a little put off when I read that it was formulated for nighttime application. That might be helpful with my night sweats, but I had to wonder if you put it on at night, wouldn't it wash away the next morning? That's when I shower and shave! This sounds very suspicious. I'm not sure to whose advantage, but I smell a conspiracy.

Re-deliverance

I "subscribe" to the Sunday Times. I put "subscribe" in quotes because I haven't received a paper since January.

After the first week, I began requesting credit and redelivery. I haven't been receiving the redeliveries, either. The sad thing is, the redelivery person isn't even the same person who didn't deliver in the first place! So they both just decide "no paper for you!"

What also sucks about "redelivery" is that it's like waiting for the cable guy - it can happen sometime between 9:30 and 2:30. After 2:30, I have to get in the car and drive around to find a place that isn't sold out. It's like...a reverse delivery. Seriously, I'm doing all the work - I feel like I should get paid.

While home delivery in my area clearly sucks, the Times customer service reps are unfailingly nice. I guess the lady I got today actually got something done because I got a redelivery!

Except...it was the local paper, to which I don't even subscribe. So, it wasn't really a redelivery, just a delivery.

Yeah, I ended up having to go someplace to buy the Times after all.

I &hearts (Overheard in) New York

I'll Just Pass It on to the Next Chinese Guy I See

Hobo standing and applauding as Asian guy walks by: Yeah! Woo-hoo! You're Chinese! Yeah! Go for you! Woo!
Asian guy: I don't have the heart to tell him I'm Korean.

--8th & 6th

via Overheard in New York, Mar 2, 2007

Friday Cat Blogging: On Demand

Sorry, Elle...my camera battery's been dead and my phone takes crappy pictures. But when I saw your request, I decided to forgo getting ready for work and snap a quick picture.

Yes, my cats read my blog. I don't think they understand English, though, so mostly they look at the pictures. For some reason, Misha is winking.

Hey Pretty

When I left the building tonight, I encountered a moderately-sketchy-looking man. Usually I just ignore these people and just try to look past or through them. I mean, why make eye contact with total strangers?

As I passed him, he felt the need to comment.

Ooooooohhh. Pretty! The way he said "pretty" was like a two-year old says "shiny!" or "yummy!"

Naturally, I didn't respond, and kept on walking. When I was almost at the corner, he shouted, "Hey! That was a COMPLIMENT!"

Gee, thanks.

Big E. Smalls

I was late to work yesterday. Why? Because I couldn't stuff my butt into my pants! ARGHHHH! And to make it worse, they're a light khaki, so I couldn't have gotten away with it at all.

I guess I'm going to have to start exercising. *sigh*

I told this to a co-worker, and she suggested I watch tv at the same time. No good - I don't watch anything really in syndication, so that's not a regular motivator. She suggested a workout mix for the iPod. Clearly no good - I have a mix and I choose not to use it. I even have the armband!

Make a new mix - it'll motivate you! Get you all pumped up, ready to work out, you know?

Hmm. Maybe I should motivate me in a negative way. Maybe my workout mix will start off with Weird Al's Fat!

Then we were trying to think of other good songs for my mix, except all the ones I could think of were pro-bootylicious, or at least valued more butt over less. Hello - Baby Got Back? Shake Your Tailfeather (The Blues Brothers and Nelly)? Shake Your Booty? Even Biz Markie likes a girl with an 8/9 pants. My Humps?

Clearly, I need more input. It's got to be work-out-to-able, and hopefully not riddled with profanity. I save that for when I'm just at work, not working out.