I was typing on my computer in a bookstore minding my own business. All of a sudden some absent minded dog dressed in a cute puppy costume ran toward me and peed on my cheap boots. As I felt the warm urine penetrate my supposedly waterproof shoes, I wondered why there was a dog dressed in a cute puppy costume in the building. Does this particular bookstore double as a dog grooming facility also?
Some bad dog owner then runs up to the dog and says, “That’s a bad boy.” Like the dog cares. What about the fact that my shoe and socks is soaked with warm urine? Do I get an apology? Of course not!
I get it. Your dog in that cute puppy costume is part of your family. You love it like it was one of your own children. You probably love your dog more than your children. But, must it come with you everywhere? Unless you are blind or a bad dog owner, dogs do not belong in bookstores.
Hey bad dog owner! Not everyone likes dogs dressed in cute puppy costumes. Some people, like me, hate them because they drool and pee everywhere. Others are afraid of their erratic behavior. Do us all a favor. Leave your dog outside!
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Saturday, January 26, 2008
My cousin, the English scholar…
I like young children and adults but teenagers I find obnoxious. But, nonetheless I am forced to interact with the ones I’m related to. So when my fourteen year old cousin came over for a visit after school I decided to ask her about her day. Do you know the response I received?
“Like oh my gosh, I like totally think my English teacher is like totally way evil because she like totally gave me a D on my paper.”
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Does what you just said qualify as English? If so, what dialect is that? What you just said makes absolutely no sense to me.
Is that how you express yourself while discussing Romeo and Juliet? If so, thank your teacher for giving you a D. You deserve an F. Do all of your friends talk just like you? Do you guys understand each other? If so, then dissecting the Canterbury Tales should be no problem at all, right?
My cousin should enroll in ESL classes because right now she is not fluent in English. It’s interesting because I remember her at age 2 and her English was much better then than it is now.
“Like oh my gosh, I like totally think my English teacher is like totally way evil because she like totally gave me a D on my paper.”
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Does what you just said qualify as English? If so, what dialect is that? What you just said makes absolutely no sense to me.
Is that how you express yourself while discussing Romeo and Juliet? If so, thank your teacher for giving you a D. You deserve an F. Do all of your friends talk just like you? Do you guys understand each other? If so, then dissecting the Canterbury Tales should be no problem at all, right?
My cousin should enroll in ESL classes because right now she is not fluent in English. It’s interesting because I remember her at age 2 and her English was much better then than it is now.
Friday, January 25, 2008
The Child That Only a Mother Could Love
I was browsing the fiction section of a bookstore, deciding which book to purchase next. All I here is the sound of feet scurrying across the floor and fingers flipping the pages of books. All is calm.
Suddenly some bad ass kid starts screaming at the top of his lungs, disturbing the peace. In a fit of rage, the screaming kid tears through the store, yanking down every book and trinket at his level.
And then, I wondered, does the kid have parents or a guardian watching him or did a three year old drive himself to the bookstore. Suddenly some woman emerged from the parenting section carrying a book, flipped to chapter two of some random parenting manual, and said in a very calm voice “Sam, don’t do that. That’s a bad boy. Do you want me to take away your cookie privileges?"
What? Fool, he just destroyed an entire bookstore. Take a cookie and smash it into his head when you get home.
Now is the time when the whole bookstore would like you to drop the book and discipline your child. No one is expecting you to throw his ass into the Dr. Seuss books or anything but the least you could do is tell him, in a stern voice, to pick up the books.
Parent your children! We are all sick of your screaming three year olds social deviants, disturbing the peace. Discipline your children at home so when they come out in public, they know how to behave.
Suddenly some bad ass kid starts screaming at the top of his lungs, disturbing the peace. In a fit of rage, the screaming kid tears through the store, yanking down every book and trinket at his level.
And then, I wondered, does the kid have parents or a guardian watching him or did a three year old drive himself to the bookstore. Suddenly some woman emerged from the parenting section carrying a book, flipped to chapter two of some random parenting manual, and said in a very calm voice “Sam, don’t do that. That’s a bad boy. Do you want me to take away your cookie privileges?"
What? Fool, he just destroyed an entire bookstore. Take a cookie and smash it into his head when you get home.
Now is the time when the whole bookstore would like you to drop the book and discipline your child. No one is expecting you to throw his ass into the Dr. Seuss books or anything but the least you could do is tell him, in a stern voice, to pick up the books.
Parent your children! We are all sick of your screaming three year olds social deviants, disturbing the peace. Discipline your children at home so when they come out in public, they know how to behave.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
How to deal with a not-so-bright, crazy, condescending boss
My boss is not very smart. She doesn’t have an ounce of common sense. I know what you are thinking. Everyone believes their boss is dumb. In fact, most people probably think they are the smartest individual in the workplace. But, I assure you, my boss is not very smart. To top it all off, she is extremely arrogant and a bit nutty.
A few months back, when the powers that be promoted my boss, I sat baffled for 20 minutes in my tiny cubicle. She can’t use excel. She can’t write. She can’t analyze data. Many days, addition and subtraction baffles her. But she is really good at blaming her staff when something goes wrong. She also really excels at slowing down the pace of the work day by asking everyone long winded stupid questions.
I spent the first few months complaining about my boss to anyone who would listen. I soon learned that gossiping didn’t do anything except exacerbate the situation. It brought negative energy into the work place. Eventually, I realized that until I win the lottery, I must work under my boss and deal with her shortcomings.
Here is some advice I can provide you when dealing with a not-so-smart, crazy, condescending boss.
If you explained a report to her last week, and yet she still doesn’t understand so she asks you about it again, don’t roll your eyes, throw your arms in the air, and scream “I explained this to you last week!” or “I learned this in kindergarten. Why didn’t you?” Your boss will get defensive. Instead, explain the concept again. It’s a good time to practice your public speaking skills also! While explaining the concept to your inept boss, pretend she has a ‘kick me’ sign on her wrinkled forehead or a dunce cap on her bucket head. You will then smile during the explanation.
If your boss is so incompetent that she starts to delegate her work to you, don’t tell her “I don’t get paid enough to do your job and mine!” Feel honored that she has enough faith in you! Gain as much experience as you possibly can. By the way, don’t try and pass on your work to her. She is your superior! Besides, if your boss is truly incompetent, she will do your work wrong. Then, she will blame you.
If she says something to you extremely condescending, don’t beat her up. Instead, take three to four deep breaths. Deep breaths will usually calm you down. If you still want to punch her after the deep breaths, close your eyes and daydream about beating her up. Slap her fat little cheeks. Poke her little button nose. But, when you return back to reality, refrain from violence, unless you want to get fired and go to jail.
If your boss begins to nitpick about little stuff in the office, don’t scream out comments such as “well at least when I get to work I get stuff done. All you do all day is torment you staff!” If she says that playing classical music at your desk is inappropriate, don’t switch to hard rock. Turn off your stereo or use head phones. Every once in a while, pretend to be a drummer and bang the little drummer sticks against her bucket head. But, again, make sure you do this in your head!
If you really believe your boss is crazy, don’t send her brochures about the mental health clinics in the area. Don’t ask her if she wants the number to a good therapist. That’s not your job and those comments will most like upset her. I wish I could give you further advice for dealing with crazy people but I can’t. You will have to grow accustomed to her peculiar behavior.
Remember, for most of us the work day lasts only eight hours! The other 16 hours belong to you. Remember, for those eight hours maintain a positive, upbeat attitude.
Bosses promote incompetent people every day. Some of the most incompetent people make hundreds of thousands, if not millions of dollars a year. Get used to the fact that not-so-bright people exist in the work place. Some incompetent people are even given the opportunity to lead large countries.
A few months back, when the powers that be promoted my boss, I sat baffled for 20 minutes in my tiny cubicle. She can’t use excel. She can’t write. She can’t analyze data. Many days, addition and subtraction baffles her. But she is really good at blaming her staff when something goes wrong. She also really excels at slowing down the pace of the work day by asking everyone long winded stupid questions.
I spent the first few months complaining about my boss to anyone who would listen. I soon learned that gossiping didn’t do anything except exacerbate the situation. It brought negative energy into the work place. Eventually, I realized that until I win the lottery, I must work under my boss and deal with her shortcomings.
Here is some advice I can provide you when dealing with a not-so-smart, crazy, condescending boss.
If you explained a report to her last week, and yet she still doesn’t understand so she asks you about it again, don’t roll your eyes, throw your arms in the air, and scream “I explained this to you last week!” or “I learned this in kindergarten. Why didn’t you?” Your boss will get defensive. Instead, explain the concept again. It’s a good time to practice your public speaking skills also! While explaining the concept to your inept boss, pretend she has a ‘kick me’ sign on her wrinkled forehead or a dunce cap on her bucket head. You will then smile during the explanation.
If your boss is so incompetent that she starts to delegate her work to you, don’t tell her “I don’t get paid enough to do your job and mine!” Feel honored that she has enough faith in you! Gain as much experience as you possibly can. By the way, don’t try and pass on your work to her. She is your superior! Besides, if your boss is truly incompetent, she will do your work wrong. Then, she will blame you.
If she says something to you extremely condescending, don’t beat her up. Instead, take three to four deep breaths. Deep breaths will usually calm you down. If you still want to punch her after the deep breaths, close your eyes and daydream about beating her up. Slap her fat little cheeks. Poke her little button nose. But, when you return back to reality, refrain from violence, unless you want to get fired and go to jail.
If your boss begins to nitpick about little stuff in the office, don’t scream out comments such as “well at least when I get to work I get stuff done. All you do all day is torment you staff!” If she says that playing classical music at your desk is inappropriate, don’t switch to hard rock. Turn off your stereo or use head phones. Every once in a while, pretend to be a drummer and bang the little drummer sticks against her bucket head. But, again, make sure you do this in your head!
If you really believe your boss is crazy, don’t send her brochures about the mental health clinics in the area. Don’t ask her if she wants the number to a good therapist. That’s not your job and those comments will most like upset her. I wish I could give you further advice for dealing with crazy people but I can’t. You will have to grow accustomed to her peculiar behavior.
Remember, for most of us the work day lasts only eight hours! The other 16 hours belong to you. Remember, for those eight hours maintain a positive, upbeat attitude.
Bosses promote incompetent people every day. Some of the most incompetent people make hundreds of thousands, if not millions of dollars a year. Get used to the fact that not-so-bright people exist in the work place. Some incompetent people are even given the opportunity to lead large countries.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Top 10 things to realize when moving to Hollywood
1. Don't inhale, unless, of course, you enjoy the smell of urine, garbage, throw up or smog.
2. Don't feed the pigeons, unless you want them to drop a special gift on your windshield
3. Don't pet it. It's a skunk.
4. Don't buy "parsley" off the street.
5. Don't get your headshots done in Idaho, Alabama, or wherever you are from.
6. Don't come to LA with a guitar and a dream. Come to LA with a car, job, and a place to live .
7. Don't expect to get discovered within 10 minutes of you landing in Hollywood.
8. Pack more than a bikini and 40 tank tops when moving to Hollywood. Pack at least one sweater.
9. Pedestrians may always have the right of way but drivers in Hollywood will run you over if you jump in the middle of the street.
10. The blonde sleeping on the Hollywood Walk of Fame is not a movie star.
2. Don't feed the pigeons, unless you want them to drop a special gift on your windshield
3. Don't pet it. It's a skunk.
4. Don't buy "parsley" off the street.
5. Don't get your headshots done in Idaho, Alabama, or wherever you are from.
6. Don't come to LA with a guitar and a dream. Come to LA with a car, job, and a place to live .
7. Don't expect to get discovered within 10 minutes of you landing in Hollywood.
8. Pack more than a bikini and 40 tank tops when moving to Hollywood. Pack at least one sweater.
9. Pedestrians may always have the right of way but drivers in Hollywood will run you over if you jump in the middle of the street.
10. The blonde sleeping on the Hollywood Walk of Fame is not a movie star.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
The Car Door: Close it Once in a While
I’m driving and I make a right turn down a street that is the width of a sidewalk. Because of the size of the street, I decide to go only 50 miles an hour instead of 60 in a 35 mile an hour zone. After all, I want to be safe and not run over anyone.
All of a sudden I have to slam on my brakes. Why? Because some fool has his car door wide open for absolutely no apparent reason.
Car doors should be opened for one reason only: to allow passengers and the driver to exit the car. Your car door doesn’t need to be open while you wait for a friend. You do not need to open your car door if you want to pour molded coffee out of your cup. Your car door doesn’t need to be open to yell at a neighbor across the street (unless you want to fight the neighbor and need to exit the car.) If you are curious about the weather outside, you don’t need to open your car door.
One day I’m going to forget to go 50 miles an hour in a 35 mile an hour zone. I’m going to go my usual 70 miles an hour and hit your door. Then you will have a car with no door. Maybe I’ll be liable. Maybe I won’t but you will remember to close your door in the future.
All of a sudden I have to slam on my brakes. Why? Because some fool has his car door wide open for absolutely no apparent reason.
Car doors should be opened for one reason only: to allow passengers and the driver to exit the car. Your car door doesn’t need to be open while you wait for a friend. You do not need to open your car door if you want to pour molded coffee out of your cup. Your car door doesn’t need to be open to yell at a neighbor across the street (unless you want to fight the neighbor and need to exit the car.) If you are curious about the weather outside, you don’t need to open your car door.
One day I’m going to forget to go 50 miles an hour in a 35 mile an hour zone. I’m going to go my usual 70 miles an hour and hit your door. Then you will have a car with no door. Maybe I’ll be liable. Maybe I won’t but you will remember to close your door in the future.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
I just fell face down while crossing the street.
I didn’t trip over my shoelaces because today I wore Velcro shoes. I didn’t fall over a bucket, bag, leaf, ant or dead body. No bird flew into the back of my head, forcing me to fall over and hit the hot ground. And, I know what you are thinking! It just isn’t true! I wasn’t gossiping about someone before the incident. I didn’t trip on black ice. It doesn’t really exist in LA. I am pretty sure I just fell because, well, I’m clumsy.
As I was lying in the middle of the street, my lips caressing the rough asphalt, I couldn’t help but wonder if any other individuals had fallen at the same time as I had. I’m sure quite a few one year olds and even a few two year olds fall daily on their faces, but even most four year olds learn the art of putting one foot in front of the other. What is wrong with me? Did I forget at that precise second?
A few people came to my rescue. Others just pointed and laughed hysterically at me. And what did I do when I got up from my fall? I should have bowed or curtseyed. I could have wiped the dirt off my gleaming white outfit and picked the street pebbles out of my hair. I could have even charged the laughing audience members for providing them with a unique comedy show.
Instead, I rushed out of the street to avoid getting hit by an approaching school bus.
As I was lying in the middle of the street, my lips caressing the rough asphalt, I couldn’t help but wonder if any other individuals had fallen at the same time as I had. I’m sure quite a few one year olds and even a few two year olds fall daily on their faces, but even most four year olds learn the art of putting one foot in front of the other. What is wrong with me? Did I forget at that precise second?
A few people came to my rescue. Others just pointed and laughed hysterically at me. And what did I do when I got up from my fall? I should have bowed or curtseyed. I could have wiped the dirt off my gleaming white outfit and picked the street pebbles out of my hair. I could have even charged the laughing audience members for providing them with a unique comedy show.
Instead, I rushed out of the street to avoid getting hit by an approaching school bus.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Random Requests from Strangers
It baffles me when random strangers approach me and ask questions like “could you watch my laptop and my purse full of money while I go to the bathroom?” Do I look like someone that should be trusted? One day I am going to respond “Absolutely! After all, if I had to go to the bathroom and was sitting next to a marginally employed, broke, twenty something year old with thousands of dollars in student loans, I would definitely trust them to watch my expensive belongings.” That makes sense.
I know it looks like butter could melt in my mouth but I could in fact be a thief. Imagine that! In the course of forty-five seconds, I could pack up all of your belongings and escape through the back entrance. I could then sell your computer and purse and use the cash to buy beer.
What ever happened to the days when people were actually distrusting of strangers? How hard is it to take your valuable belongings with you to the bathroom and just ask me to save your seat? After all, if you take your valuable belongings with you and I decided to instead steal the chair that you were sitting in, that wouldn’t really affect you financially would it? I’m not the brightest cookie in the jar but I know enough not to ask random folks to watch my stuff, and my stuff is crap.
I know it looks like butter could melt in my mouth but I could in fact be a thief. Imagine that! In the course of forty-five seconds, I could pack up all of your belongings and escape through the back entrance. I could then sell your computer and purse and use the cash to buy beer.
What ever happened to the days when people were actually distrusting of strangers? How hard is it to take your valuable belongings with you to the bathroom and just ask me to save your seat? After all, if you take your valuable belongings with you and I decided to instead steal the chair that you were sitting in, that wouldn’t really affect you financially would it? I’m not the brightest cookie in the jar but I know enough not to ask random folks to watch my stuff, and my stuff is crap.
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