Ah, good times

A few years ago, I had a boss (let's call him Jerry since that is his name) who would never signal to me when he was done with a conversation. Jerry would call me into his office and explain a project he wanted me to do. He would finish his explanation and then just stop and look at me for an extended period of time. So I would say, "Thanks," and start walking out of his (corner) office. But as I approached the door, Jerry would start talking again as though there had ben no eery pause and I was still sitting in a chair by his desk. I would stand there, listen, jot some notes on my legal pad, and then wait as he paused an stared again. Repeat several times until I would finally just leave Jerry's office and pretend I couldn't her him down the hallway when he started talking again.

Christmas

Christmas is over, and yet, I still have Christmas presents to buy. That is not good. I am celebrating Christmas with my family this coming weekend, and I need to get something for my sister. And I still have one friend to get something for. Aargh. Buying presents takes a long time for me because I can't just pick something nice. I have to search and search and find the perfect gift. But I usually just end up running out of time and getting something random. Hopefully I will have time to find some great things before this weekend, or my sister may end up getting whatever is for sale at some gas station along the interstate.

H's birthday is tomorrow, and I already gave him his presents. My favorite, and I think his favorite too, was a shirt from www.glarkware.com that says, "In Soviet Russia, shirt wears you." It is perfect for him! Tomorrow we are celebrating with dinner at an undisclosed location. Good times shall be had by all.

Who am I?

THINGS I LIKE
(in no particular order)

blue ink pens
Oceanspray Cranapple juice
The Office
Gilmore Girls
Grey’s Anatomy
The West Wing, seasons 1-4 and sometimes 5, although I still watch it every week because I have made a commitment, goshdarnit
Conan O’Brien
George on Grey’s Anatomy (not T.R. Knight, but George, the character- yes, I realize he is not a real person)
Allison Janney
Socks with patterns
The Sound of Music
Sabrina Lloyd
Glassware, especially barware (if that is a word)
Colored vases
The song "Love Shack"
Weezer, the blue album and Pinkerton
Birthdays
The Daily Show
White Russians, the drink, although I am sure the people are nice too
Show on CBC where people lived in western Canada as though it was frontier times for one year


THINGS I DO NOT LIKE

Desperate Housewives
Black ink pens
When people over the age of 12 call their fathers “Daddy”
Sucking up
Fox News
Working 10+ hour days
Fear Factor
Talking about money
People who try to become celebrities by appearing on reality tv
Shows where moms switch lives
Television news
Arrested Development being cancelled
Scrubs not being on until mid-season
Science fiction
Big belt buckles
The term “matron of honor”
Washing the dishes

Call me Ebert

I didn’t expect to like Finding Neverland, but I really did. I don’t like Johnny Depp, and I’m not sure why. Because I don’t like him, I tend to assume I won’t like any movies he is in. I am not sure where this came from, although most likely it is just some sort of backlash against other people thinking he is hot and therefore he is a great actor. Because other people think he is hot, I am compelled to dislike him. Now, this makes no sense, and I realize that, but that’s how I roll, baby.

So anyway, the movie. It made me cry, but not at the part(s) where I think the director wanted me to cry. I didn’t like the last 60 seconds at all. But it was really interesting and fun, and I would recommend it.

In other forms of entertainment, I just finished Saturday by Ian McEwan. I liked it much better than Atonement, which was only ok. The plot of Saturday is annoyingly predictable in certain ways, but I enjoyed the narrator’s thought process and analysis. There were also some thoughts on the war in Iraq that I thought were interesting, although this is certainly not a political book.

Other things I have seen recently: the first six episodes of the British version of The Office. I enjoy it, although I like the American version much better. Maybe that is because I am American. Or maybe it is because of my slight crush on Jim. Or perhaps it is because I saw the American version first, so I am used to it. Anyway, Gareth is awesome.

Hello, Awkward!

I am a Creator of Awkard Moments. There was that time one of my bosses said he was going to invite some of us from work over to his house, and I threatened to lick the kitchen walls. (He puts the phobe in germophobe, and I was attempting to mock him, but it just turned out, well, not so funny as much as really, really awkward.) There was the time when after watching an extremely boring video onwith other new employees, and I stated that the video of a guy reading to us would have been better as an *interpretive dance.* (Those asterisks represent the jazz hands I displayed while saying "interpretive dance." Some staring ensued.)

But one of my favorite awkward moments, one that I saw coming for three months or more, occurred at my old workplace. To get to my office, I had to walk by the ground floor receptionist, use my key card to get into the staircase, go up several flights, and use the key card to exit the staircase onto my floor. Every morning, the receptionist would say, "Hello, there!" or alternatively, "Hi, there!" and I would respond nicely and appropriately. After having these exchanges for about three months, she switched it up, saying, "Good morning, there!" FOr some reason this struck me as odd. Hello, there? Fine. Hi, there? Normal. Good morning, there? Whaaaa? I thought about it for two seconds and realized that she had said, "Good morning, Deb." Which means that EVERY morning she had been saying, "Hello, Deb." And my name is not Deb.

What do I do now? I had already entered the stairwell, so I could not walk all the way back and respond 30 seconds leter, "My name is not Deb," after accidentally pretending that my name was Deb for three months. So I considered the chance of her figuring out on her own that my name was not Deb, decided this chance was slim, and decided to just go with it. For another few months, my name was Deb every morning, and I liked it. That is, until I forgot my key card.

I could check one out from the ground floor receptionist, but I would have to sign it out, and she would see that my name was not Deb. Nor is it even close to Deb. I tried to take the public staircase and get in through the third floor reception area, but the third floor reception area was dark and locked. (In a little twist of irony, kind of, the third floor receptionist was actually named Deb.) I trudged back downstairs, and lo and behold, the woman sitting at the reception desk was not the usual receptionist. Instead, there was a substitute receptionist I had never seen before! I checked out a key card and went about my business.

When I left that night, I tried to return my borrowed key card, but the substitute had already left. I had to turn it in the next morning, and of course, the usual receptionist was back. I handed her the key card. She said, "Thanks, Deb." I asked her if I needed to sign anything, and she said no. I was home free! Until about 15 minutes later when she called my office, saying, "I thought your name was Deb!" She must have had to mark on the sign out sheet that I returned the key card. "Ummm... nope, it's not."

And almost every morning, for the next 153 mornings or so, I heard, "Good morning, R."