I Hate Shots

Ok, my brother is going to be okay. He has to take some time off work for now, but he hasn't had a day off in almost three months, so it's probably a good thing he got sick and is forced to slow down. He's staying positive. He's so positive, in fact, that I have to go to the doctor and get a shot of immunoglobulins to prevent myself from being positive, too.

What he caught is temporary, and it sounds a lot more serious than it actually is. All it does is knock you on your ass for a few weeks, but it sucks, it's contagious, and it sucks.

Sorry for sending out creepy twitters. They took him away for two hours and wouldn't tell me anything because we have different last names. It was stupid. I friggin' hate hospitals.

Burn!

I got a little too much sun yesterday. Oops.

Heyo

Do you know why I'm making this face? Because life is awesome. I am posting this on my awesome new sidekick! The wait is over! I finally have a phone! An awesome phone! And an awesome new job title that lets my awesome clothes breathe! Heyo!

Opportunities Knock Loud

This morning, they cut a hole in the fish bowl, right in front of the computer we don't really use.

The following conversation happened early this afternoon, right after I jumped off the counter, where I was standing to spread fake spiderwebs from the ceiling to the top of the fish bowl. (The fish bowl is where I work. The entire reception area is surrounded by glass.)

Manager: Hey, do you want that job?

Me: Heck yeah. Would you like me to write an "I don't quit letter" first? You know, rescind my resignation officially before I accept another job in the company?

Manager: As far as I'm concerned, you never did. I totally lost your resignation letter.

Me: Right, like it was a bad dream or something.

Manager: Exactly!

This other conversation happened later this afternoon, and it would be a lot funnier if you were there. Sorry.

Assistant Manager (AM): Why did they cut another hole into this glass? It's not like we use this computer for anything.

Training Manager (TM): They do paperwork at this desk. It seems like a big interruption to have a hole there.

AM: Well, I guess we can put some Halloween decorations over it, since it's just going to be a distraction.

Co-Worker 1: I heard they are going to have a receptionist start next week.

AM: I would have heard about that! They didn't hire anybody for that, I know. I DO ALL THE BACKGROUND CHECK FORMS.

TM: I haven't seen any posted job openings in the center.

AM: (Getting mad.) This is stupid! They can't do that! I AM THE ASSISTANT MANAGER AND I SHOULD GET TO BE A PART OF THE HIRING PROCESS.

And there I am, watching it from a few feet away, laughing my ASS OFF. I AM TOTALLY THE NEW RECEPTIONIST, BITCH.

Nothing glamorous, like I said, but a hell of a lot better than the gig I have now.

UnQuit

In a time of economic crisis, where Wall Street and the government and huge business is trying to squeeze every fucking dime they can out of the lower and middle classes, it's probably not a good time to quit your job.

I've been applying for tons of jobs, and only two looked promising. Neither of my two prospects worked out. One decided to stop hiring, and the other just wasn't that impressed with me during the interview. I could be more hurt, and I could be a lot more upset. Honestly, neither job sounded all that appealing to begin with, but both were something different, something more interesting than drawing blood samples and asking people about AIDS all day. Both would have been somewhere that I could wear my nice dress clothes and pretend that I was a hard-working, productive member of society.

Tomorrow, I'm probably going to have to officially withdraw my resignation. I've been talking a lot about it with my manager, and she's been so great and understanding about it. However, and this is a pretty big however, this however spans the galaxies and fills my heart with hope and desperation and longing for this however to be exactly what I need...there might be an opportunity for me in the center; they are pushing for a job to be created in the area I work in, a job that I'm beyond qualified for, and I have exchanged many hushed words behind closed doors about what I would do to get it. This job opening would allow me to wear my dress pants and not have to wear a lab coat. This lateral move is nothing glamorous, and it won't give me a raise. But out of the dozens of jobs I've been applying for, this is the kind of work I've wanted to do the most.

Everybody think happy thoughts for me tomorrow, as I'm praying that I'm given this opportunity to add another notch on the bedpost I call my resume.

An Open Letter

Dear Michael Cera,

What happened to your career? Can you even remember the glory days of 2003-2006 anymore, or are you too busy bathing in all the blood money you got from Juno? Come on, Juno? I'll give you some credit, the script was actually pretty funny, but deep down you know it did nothing more than perpetuate somebody's pro-life propaganda.

What else have you been in? Oh, right, Superbad. That was a great movie, wasn't it? Did that movie warm your heart to make, knowing that in 2005, 41% of 8th graders had tried alcohol; did it make you feel proud of this film, knowing that in 2005, 63% of 10th graders, 75% of 12th graders, and 87% of college students had all participated in underage drinking, according to the National Institutes of Health? How did you even get cast in Juno anyway? Pro-drinking and pro-life? One of these things is not like the other one, buddy.

Your career isn't totally shot, though. I really enjoyed Clark and Michael.

Now, I keep seeing you playing your one character in upcoming movie, Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. And, as much as I hate to support you in anything that you do, I'm going to have to suffer through 90 minutes of you acting all awkward and shy around girls, just because Bishop Allen makes an appearance. Rest assured, though, I will walk out of that theater in shame.

Love,
Grrface

Things Other People Have Been Blogging About

Bees

A coworker of mine was outside, smoking on his break, and he picked up his can of soda to take a sip. He immediately screamed and a fucking wasp flew out of his mouth. It stung him on the inside of his face. Let me let that sink in for a moment.

A wasp stung stung a guy inside his mouth, and then just flew away, like nothing was the matter. However, everything was the matter.

Tattoos

I'm pretty sure you all have read Sarah Brown, but if you don't, go to queserasera.org and laugh a lot.

I'm anti-tattoo. I've thought about getting one. I've gone to tattoo shops and had them drawn up, but I'm never satisfied. I have the ideas, but I cannot think of any one thing that is significant enough to me to look at it every day. I mean, I respect the decisions of other people to have tattoos, but I totally judge people who have memorials to lost friends written on their arms. I prefer to keep tributes on paper. What is so wrong about getting a framed picture of your lost friend, and displaying it on the walls of your parent's basement? Or just pouring a little of your 40 on the ground, in respects to your fallen homie?

McCain/MILF 08

Ooh, so McCain picked a woman? Blah blah blah feminism. Is it really such a feminist ideal that a powerful man only picked a woman hoping to swing the vote in his direction, hoping that having a female running mate would boost his popularity with the people who find him a little too much like our current presidential monkey? Oh, silly govenor, he's using you because you're a woman. That's not feminism, it's masochism. Go back to Alaska where you can be as frigid as you look.