Call me crazy but I always thought when people posted items in the "For Sale" section of Craigslist.com they had the intention to sell those items. Apparently not.
It's been a few days since I moved into my very own office abode and I'm DIEING to decorate. Plain white walls never made me a particularly productive individual so I spent Friday, Saturday, AND Sunday cruising around this teeny tiny town in search of the perfect decor to match my perfect office vision. I went to every thrift store, furniture store, department store, everywhere I could think of with zero luck. The closest I came to my dream office chair was a $200 white wing-back at Ross. Over my budget by about $180...schucks.
Just as I was giving up on my dream of a shabby-chic (and cheap) office I stumbled upon a Craigslist post for an accent chair. I dared to take a peek only to discover it was the chair I'd been searching for!! My office life was complete the moment the picture loaded onto the page. Unfortunately there was no phone number to call so I sent an inquiry email like it was my last day on earth expressing my interest in taking a look at the chair. I could have said I wanted it like nothing I've ever wanted before, but I decided to play hard to get. So far I'm no good at that game.
I've checked my inbox about 300 times since I sent that email with no response. I even sent another email just-in-case the original had wound up in the junk mail inbox. Still no reply, no phone call, no nothing. But the Craigslist post remains. Haunting and Taunting me. I feel like I've been dumped before I even got a chance for a first date....is it normal to feel this attached to a chair I never even met?
Monday, January 31, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
t.g.i.H.f.
Thank God I Have Friends. Friends who I can say anything to and feel comfortable knowing they won't judge me. Friends who understand sometimes a gal just needs to bitch and moan and vent until the frustration subsides. Friends who know when a coffee date is a must. I may not have many friends, but I LOVE the ones I have.
Office Space
I've been working for the same business for the past four years and I need to vent.
As a student employee for the first three years of my employment I put in my time as a lowly employee and it must have been noticed because I was offered a full-time position at graduation which in the economic panic, I gladly accepted.
For the past year I've been a full-time employee and though my title has "Assistant" to preface my job description, I feel I'm still treated as a lowly student employee who's not capable of anything. It bums me out that they don't think of me first for a project that needs to be done. Instead they go to their golden-boy student employee who's really just a brown-nosing-asshole. Don't get me wrong, he used to be a really great guy but I think on his quest for success he's forgotten his original friends/cheerleaders and it's gone to his head. There might be a little jealousy splashed in that last line, but it's mostly disappointment that I lost a friend to his own ego. I hate that I have to fight my way into a project. And what bugs me most is, I just got a talkin' to from the "office boss" about moving into a private office after I was told I could. WTF?
Story Background: I'd been offered to share the private office before with another coworker but had turned it down to work in the main office area. Originally I liked my little cubicle by the kitchen. I loved being in the middle of things; being able to listen in on conference calls and private discussions; not missing a thing that happened in the office. But soon I began to feel distracted from my work, I couldn't take a phone call without having to block out the background noise, and anyone and everyone who came in the office treated me like the secretary. That is not in my job description.
When this office became available once again, I jumped at the chance to take it. I hinted several times to all my coworkers who are senior to me how I would like the office, how it'd be nice to have some privacy and how, now that I have student records on file they should be kept in a more secure location. Whats more, I was tired of coming into work and finding someone else had used my computer/desk/god knows what for themselves. I know the computer isn't technically mine, but it still made me uncomfortable knowing someone was there other than me. Long story short, the office was offered to someone else who did not want it. That person informed me that because they didn't want it; it was all mine and I could move in. The office boss was away in a meeting and since I'd gotten the OK from the person who didn't want the office, I hurriedly moved in. Just as I began to feel like I was moving up in the totem-pole-of-respect around here the office boss informs me that I shouldn't have moved in. I should have waited for him to tell me to move in because he might have had other plans for the office. I explained I was told it was OK by someone who had talked to him but apparently that wasn't good enough. Way to make me feel like a student employee AND an asshole all over again. Will I ever be on the same level or good enough for these people or will they forever treat me like the student employee they met in 2007. I'm busting my ass here, picking up slack, filling in where I'm not required to fill in, babysitting the interns and thrusting 100% of my effort into a project that I know is doomed to fail. This is getting frustrating.
As a student employee for the first three years of my employment I put in my time as a lowly employee and it must have been noticed because I was offered a full-time position at graduation which in the economic panic, I gladly accepted.
For the past year I've been a full-time employee and though my title has "Assistant" to preface my job description, I feel I'm still treated as a lowly student employee who's not capable of anything. It bums me out that they don't think of me first for a project that needs to be done. Instead they go to their golden-boy student employee who's really just a brown-nosing-asshole. Don't get me wrong, he used to be a really great guy but I think on his quest for success he's forgotten his original friends/cheerleaders and it's gone to his head. There might be a little jealousy splashed in that last line, but it's mostly disappointment that I lost a friend to his own ego. I hate that I have to fight my way into a project. And what bugs me most is, I just got a talkin' to from the "office boss" about moving into a private office after I was told I could. WTF?
Story Background: I'd been offered to share the private office before with another coworker but had turned it down to work in the main office area. Originally I liked my little cubicle by the kitchen. I loved being in the middle of things; being able to listen in on conference calls and private discussions; not missing a thing that happened in the office. But soon I began to feel distracted from my work, I couldn't take a phone call without having to block out the background noise, and anyone and everyone who came in the office treated me like the secretary. That is not in my job description.
When this office became available once again, I jumped at the chance to take it. I hinted several times to all my coworkers who are senior to me how I would like the office, how it'd be nice to have some privacy and how, now that I have student records on file they should be kept in a more secure location. Whats more, I was tired of coming into work and finding someone else had used my computer/desk/god knows what for themselves. I know the computer isn't technically mine, but it still made me uncomfortable knowing someone was there other than me. Long story short, the office was offered to someone else who did not want it. That person informed me that because they didn't want it; it was all mine and I could move in. The office boss was away in a meeting and since I'd gotten the OK from the person who didn't want the office, I hurriedly moved in. Just as I began to feel like I was moving up in the totem-pole-of-respect around here the office boss informs me that I shouldn't have moved in. I should have waited for him to tell me to move in because he might have had other plans for the office. I explained I was told it was OK by someone who had talked to him but apparently that wasn't good enough. Way to make me feel like a student employee AND an asshole all over again. Will I ever be on the same level or good enough for these people or will they forever treat me like the student employee they met in 2007. I'm busting my ass here, picking up slack, filling in where I'm not required to fill in, babysitting the interns and thrusting 100% of my effort into a project that I know is doomed to fail. This is getting frustrating.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Price Point
Slowly but surely I've noticed my taste (and hunger) for clothing brands improve a little with each passing year. A girl who once thought $14 was pricey for a t-shirt now has no problem spending well over $100 on a pair of to-die-for shoes I will wear for only a handful of occasions. I'm pretty sure this shift in spending has a lot to do with the fact that I have a job. It also helps that I'm really good at convincing myself I have a lot more disposable income than I actually do. Regardless of the credit card debt I can never quite pay off I find myself wanting the bigger, better, brand. The happiness that once came with a pair of Skechers can now only be matched by a pair of Loubotins. And that Express purse I loved so dearly is now quickly dismissed by a Birkin Bag sighting.
All these thoughts of clothing up-sell made me wonder about price points in relationships. The older we get, the higher our standards for quality brands and quality men become. Once upon a time we would have been happy settling down with the high school prom king. But now that we've seen what's out there, and seen the man equivalent of a pair of Jimmy-Choo's, can we help but want more? And what happens when we do finally get that prized possession we've been dreaming of and drooling over? Are we ever really satisfied when we know there's a higher price point to be had?
All these thoughts of clothing up-sell made me wonder about price points in relationships. The older we get, the higher our standards for quality brands and quality men become. Once upon a time we would have been happy settling down with the high school prom king. But now that we've seen what's out there, and seen the man equivalent of a pair of Jimmy-Choo's, can we help but want more? And what happens when we do finally get that prized possession we've been dreaming of and drooling over? Are we ever really satisfied when we know there's a higher price point to be had?
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Blonde Ambition
I allow myself one dumb-blonde moment each day and here is today's: I tend to sweat a bit while in the tanning bed, am I burning calories while I tan???
Party Pooper's R Us
Someone once told me that if a person refuses to get drunk they cannot be trusted. Hearing these words as a freshman in college came as a shock. I had never gotten drunk and the one time in high school I attempted to down a sip of Mike's Hard resulted in a scolding from the boy I had a crush on. Up to that point in my life, experience with alcohol was not off to a good start.
I remember immediately denying the statement the moment I heard it. There's no way that just because someone refuses to get drunk they are dishonest or hiding something. But now that I've gotten acquainted with alcohol (we grown quite accustomed to one another) and encountered people who refuse to drink it; I now have a firm belief in the saying that people who refuse to get drunk are definitely hiding something.
To be clear, people who refuse to drink for religious reasons, or family history, or any other legitimate reason I do not hold accountable to this rule. But it's the people who have no excuse for not partaking in the fun that I find a bit questionable. I don't take it to the extreme that these people can't be trusted, rather I think they have a problem with trusting themselves. It's a personal issue. They are afraid to see and share who they really are. I was that way too so I do sympathize. It took a lot for me to give in and get drunk and aside from a few fuzzy memories, I turned out just fine.
I'm not sure what the fix is to this party-pooper problem. Or if it's even technically a problem. Do these people ever come around and indulge in the social goodness of a dry martini? Or do they forever hold back and resist the temptation to let loose and just see what happens? In my efforts to solve this party-pooper madness I'm taking it upon myself to have a drink for the lot of them....and hope that someday soon they'll join in the fun!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Who Ya Gonna Call?
I'm amazed at how often people feel they deserve compensation. Everyone these days seems to want refunds, vouchers, upgrades or cash back when something doesn't go exactly as planned. I most often see this angry child-like frenzy of "gimme, gimme, gimme" at airports. Flight delay? They want a discount voucher. And they want it NOW! Baggage lost? They want their money back and then some.
What the hell made us all so entitled?!?
I'm almost certain this concept applies to happenings outside the travel industry and it got me thinking about compensation in life. Sometimes things happen outside of our control but what are we to do when these misfortunes occur? There is no customer service desk to take our complaints. No 1-800 number to call.
I thought about the number that I would dial in this type of situation and it hit me that the number happens to be the number of my very own, personal, customer service agent. This is the person who will listen sympathetically like the employee at the airline desk; the person who will say something to make me feel like the problem will get solved much like the business rep you would speak with on the phone. This is the person that will go above-and-beyond to make me feel at ease about the situation, and that person is my Mother.
Though she may not offer any freebie's or discount vouchers, my Mother offers her sympathy and her love.
And that's all the compensation I need.
What the hell made us all so entitled?!?
I'm almost certain this concept applies to happenings outside the travel industry and it got me thinking about compensation in life. Sometimes things happen outside of our control but what are we to do when these misfortunes occur? There is no customer service desk to take our complaints. No 1-800 number to call.
I thought about the number that I would dial in this type of situation and it hit me that the number happens to be the number of my very own, personal, customer service agent. This is the person who will listen sympathetically like the employee at the airline desk; the person who will say something to make me feel like the problem will get solved much like the business rep you would speak with on the phone. This is the person that will go above-and-beyond to make me feel at ease about the situation, and that person is my Mother.
Though she may not offer any freebie's or discount vouchers, my Mother offers her sympathy and her love.
And that's all the compensation I need.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
"I Do"...Not.
The other day I had a conversation with my best friend from high school. She's married, has a baby, a house, and a full-time job. With her average American lifestyle it was only natural for her to ask me when I was going to marry to boyfriend, and when she did ask, I found myself reciting the pre-made laundry list of all the reasons why I'm just not ready.
I've been getting the marriage question A LOT lately and I don't understand why. Maybe it's because boyfriend and I have been together for somewhere over two years. Exact anniversary date is unknown...here comes the sarcasm: that's how great of a couple we are. Maybe people are asking because most of our "couple friends" are engaged, just got engaged, plan to be engaged, or are already married. Maybe people think we'll catch the marriage bug and as much as I hate to disappoint, I'm pretty sure I got a vaccine for that. No wedding inklings here.
Reciting my "Why I don't want to get married" speech for the um-teenth time got me thinking. Of all the reasons I can list for why I do not want to get married, I can't think of a single reason why I would want to get married. Is that normal? I'm young. I'm happy. I have plans for myself and someone to share those plans with. Why do I need a legal contract and an overpriced white dress to prove that?
To be honest, I'm leery of this whole marriage thing. I won't bust out the list, I'm tired of reciting it anyway, but I just can't make that kind of commitment, not right now. Blame my past. Blame my unhealthy love for "Sex and the City" but I'm just not sure. I've heard many times that when you meet your soul mate you just know, and marriage is the most logical decision you could ever make.
Well...I just don't know. So I'm not going to mess with anything until I do know. And then I can fall into my average American lifestyle. Maybe it's not as bad as it looks.
I've been getting the marriage question A LOT lately and I don't understand why. Maybe it's because boyfriend and I have been together for somewhere over two years. Exact anniversary date is unknown...here comes the sarcasm: that's how great of a couple we are. Maybe people are asking because most of our "couple friends" are engaged, just got engaged, plan to be engaged, or are already married. Maybe people think we'll catch the marriage bug and as much as I hate to disappoint, I'm pretty sure I got a vaccine for that. No wedding inklings here.
Reciting my "Why I don't want to get married" speech for the um-teenth time got me thinking. Of all the reasons I can list for why I do not want to get married, I can't think of a single reason why I would want to get married. Is that normal? I'm young. I'm happy. I have plans for myself and someone to share those plans with. Why do I need a legal contract and an overpriced white dress to prove that?
To be honest, I'm leery of this whole marriage thing. I won't bust out the list, I'm tired of reciting it anyway, but I just can't make that kind of commitment, not right now. Blame my past. Blame my unhealthy love for "Sex and the City" but I'm just not sure. I've heard many times that when you meet your soul mate you just know, and marriage is the most logical decision you could ever make.
Well...I just don't know. So I'm not going to mess with anything until I do know. And then I can fall into my average American lifestyle. Maybe it's not as bad as it looks.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
We Must Dust
Yesterday I read a note from my Aunt describing how busy she is cleaning their house in preparation for 2011. She explained it is Japanese tradition to clean all the dust and dirt away from your home so as not to carry it into the new year. Her note inspired me to dust off my apartment and, in effect, my life.
As I tossed out old birthday cards, old clothes, and old love letters it got me thinking. How do we dust off our relationships to start fresh in a new one? There is no Pledge wipe for this sort of cleaning. No garbage bag big enough to fit all the emotional baggage of our past love(s). And no matter how hard we scrub away at the memories, good and bad, they will always be there... like a sale at Macy's. I wondered if this sort of "relationship dust" can fog up the next relationship; dirtying it from the very beginning.
Are we doomed to carry the dirt and grime from our past into our future? Can we truly start fresh with the dust of our past weighing us down?
As I tossed out old birthday cards, old clothes, and old love letters it got me thinking. How do we dust off our relationships to start fresh in a new one? There is no Pledge wipe for this sort of cleaning. No garbage bag big enough to fit all the emotional baggage of our past love(s). And no matter how hard we scrub away at the memories, good and bad, they will always be there... like a sale at Macy's. I wondered if this sort of "relationship dust" can fog up the next relationship; dirtying it from the very beginning.
Are we doomed to carry the dirt and grime from our past into our future? Can we truly start fresh with the dust of our past weighing us down?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)