Sunday, July 5, 2009
From the Desk of Jacki Simmons
From now on, all Jacki Simmons novels will be available from this site. Enjoy and please direct all questions and comments to msvisualeyes@yahoo.com. Thank you!
Friday, February 6, 2009
Miscellaneous Thoughts: Quarter to Ten Edition
So Michael Phelps took a bong rip. I ain't mad at him; I'm mad he let someone get a photo op. Ain't it funny how they're crucifying theis 23-year-old kid for being a 23-year-old kid? Especially when Ricky Williams, aka HBL, the Human Bud Leaf is still running around? Seriously?
Etta James said she can't stand Beyonce. At last.
You have no man, no job. But you now have 14 children. Congratulations: You are now the Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoe.
Does anybody else catch how the Republicans are tryna black ball Obama?
Speaking of Obama, when he said things would get "worse" before they got better, are we expecting another soup-kitchen depression to sweep the nation? If so, let me know now because Progresso is $0.59 a can.
Does anybody catch how the MTA is tryna black ball New Yorkers? And how every single one of us has played right into Mike Bloombergs hands perfectly?
Seriously? SERIOUSLY??? What disturbs me even more than its mere existence is the 243, 000+ hits.
If your child has a histroy of lettting herself out of the house, you didn't think of babyproofing everything to the point that you yourself could barely get out? Or is it just me thinking this tragedy could have been avoided?
You are an asshole.
They say the Feds sent tainted PB to local schools. Hmm... Trying to "help out" again, huh? Like bags of white bread over India, right?
Riiiiiiiiiiiiight.......
Etta James said she can't stand Beyonce. At last.
You have no man, no job. But you now have 14 children. Congratulations: You are now the Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoe.
Does anybody else catch how the Republicans are tryna black ball Obama?
Speaking of Obama, when he said things would get "worse" before they got better, are we expecting another soup-kitchen depression to sweep the nation? If so, let me know now because Progresso is $0.59 a can.
Does anybody catch how the MTA is tryna black ball New Yorkers? And how every single one of us has played right into Mike Bloombergs hands perfectly?
Seriously? SERIOUSLY??? What disturbs me even more than its mere existence is the 243, 000+ hits.
If your child has a histroy of lettting herself out of the house, you didn't think of babyproofing everything to the point that you yourself could barely get out? Or is it just me thinking this tragedy could have been avoided?
You are an asshole.
They say the Feds sent tainted PB to local schools. Hmm... Trying to "help out" again, huh? Like bags of white bread over India, right?
Riiiiiiiiiiiiight.......
And I Said What About Breakfast at Tiffany's?
...She said I think I remember the film... You don't remember that song? Deep Blue Something? Oh come on, you suck!
I'm eating the breakfast our boss and his wife had catered for us this morning. Not that I'm ungrateful in any way, but there is one little question to be asked: What made you choose salmon?
Here's the scene: I walk in the break room on our floor (which is where I must go to punch in or out) and there is literally a smorgasbord spread across the table. Juice, milk, coffee, tea, cookies, a fruit platter, a basket of pastries including chocolate chip muffins, a huge raspberry cheese danish (I totally took that, allergic and all), butter, cream cheese and bagels. Then in the corner of the table, innocently sitting in its plastic wrap, is the infamous lox.
I looked around for the bacon and sausages but of course, to my chagrin, you already know. Now I usually don't knock it unless I've tried it (I'ma keep knocking that cream cheese and bacon shit because that is just unholy) but there are some extremes in life that I am just not prepared for. Fish on my toasted plain cream cheese bagel is one of them. So I hastily plucked out slices of cantaloupe and pineapple as well as a couple of grapes and chocolate chip cookies (Yes, this is in addition to the danish) and a huge cup of apple juice. I whisked it back to my desk where I now sit, wondering in Lysol disinfectant wipes can get these cheese spots off of my keyboard.
I'm not gonna complain for the simple fact that this is the first time I've eaten before 12 midnight in weeks. My love affair with food has somehow waned in the past few months. I am quite sure that has a lot to do with the 40+ pound shift in my weight (down, not up if you were wondering). Food just doesn't hold my attention anymore. It has to be something really spectacular (like the amazing appetizer platter I got from Hard Rock last week) for me to even shift my eye.
Random Sidebar: Last night was another travesty. The BF and I were at each others throats pretty much all night, which was why I was kinda glad for the peace, however fleeting, of the walk to the train. He is so insensitive sometimes. Fuck parents, boyfriends just don't understand.
Stay tuned for this weeks edition of Miscellaneous Thoughts, coming up next.
I'm eating the breakfast our boss and his wife had catered for us this morning. Not that I'm ungrateful in any way, but there is one little question to be asked: What made you choose salmon?
Here's the scene: I walk in the break room on our floor (which is where I must go to punch in or out) and there is literally a smorgasbord spread across the table. Juice, milk, coffee, tea, cookies, a fruit platter, a basket of pastries including chocolate chip muffins, a huge raspberry cheese danish (I totally took that, allergic and all), butter, cream cheese and bagels. Then in the corner of the table, innocently sitting in its plastic wrap, is the infamous lox.
I looked around for the bacon and sausages but of course, to my chagrin, you already know. Now I usually don't knock it unless I've tried it (I'ma keep knocking that cream cheese and bacon shit because that is just unholy) but there are some extremes in life that I am just not prepared for. Fish on my toasted plain cream cheese bagel is one of them. So I hastily plucked out slices of cantaloupe and pineapple as well as a couple of grapes and chocolate chip cookies (Yes, this is in addition to the danish) and a huge cup of apple juice. I whisked it back to my desk where I now sit, wondering in Lysol disinfectant wipes can get these cheese spots off of my keyboard.
I'm not gonna complain for the simple fact that this is the first time I've eaten before 12 midnight in weeks. My love affair with food has somehow waned in the past few months. I am quite sure that has a lot to do with the 40+ pound shift in my weight (down, not up if you were wondering). Food just doesn't hold my attention anymore. It has to be something really spectacular (like the amazing appetizer platter I got from Hard Rock last week) for me to even shift my eye.
Random Sidebar: Last night was another travesty. The BF and I were at each others throats pretty much all night, which was why I was kinda glad for the peace, however fleeting, of the walk to the train. He is so insensitive sometimes. Fuck parents, boyfriends just don't understand.
Stay tuned for this weeks edition of Miscellaneous Thoughts, coming up next.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Things That Make You Go Hmmm....
Take a few minutes to read this article, would you? Don't stop until you've finished. This was written by a white reporter from Georgia shortly after President Barack Obama's election.
Andrew M. Manis: When Are WE Going to Get Over It?
For much of the last forty years, ever since America "fixed" its race problem in the Civil Rights and Voting Rights Acts, we white people have been impatient with African Americans who continued to blame race for their difficulties. Often we have heard whites ask, "When are African Americans finally going to get over it? Now I want to ask: "When are we White Americans going to get over our ridiculous obsession with skin color?
Recent reports that "Election Spurs Hundreds' of Race Threats, Crimes" should frighten and infuriate every one of us. Having grown up in "Bombingham," Alabama in the 1960s, I remember overhearing an avalanche of comments about what many white classmates and their parents wanted to do to John and Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King. Eventually, as you may recall, in all three cases, someone decided to do more than "talk the talk." Since our recent presidential election, to our eternal shame we are once again hearing the same reprehensible talk I remember from my boyhood.
We white people have controlled political life in the disunited colonies and United States for some 400 years on this continent. Conservative whites have been in power 28 of the last 40 years. Even during the eight Clinton years, conservatives in Congress blocked most of his agenda and pulled him to the right. Yet never in that period did I read any headlines suggesting that anyone was calling for the assassinations of presidents Nixon, Ford, Reagan, or either of the Bushes. Criticize them, yes. Call for their impeachment, perhaps. But there were no bounties on their heads. And even when someone did try to kill Ronald Reagan, the perpetrator was non-political mental case who wanted merely to impress Jody Foster. But elect a liberal who happens to be Black and we're back in the sixties again.
At this point in our history, we should be proud that we've proven what conservatives are always saying -- that in America anything is possible, EVEN electing a black man as president. But instead we now hear that school children from Maine to California are talking about wanting to "assassinate Obama."
Fighting the urge to throw up, I can only ask, "How long?" How long before we white people realize we can't make our nation, much less the whole world, look like us? How long until we white people can - once and for all - get over this hell-conceived preoccupation with skin color? How long until we white people get over the demonic conviction that white skin makes us superior? How long before we white people get over our bitter resentments about being demoted to the status of equality with non-whites? How long before we get over our expectations that we should be at the head of the line merely because of our white skin? How long until we white people end our silence and call out our peers when they share the latest racist jokes in the privacy of our white-only conversations? I believe in free speech, but how long until we white people start making racist loudmouths as socially uncomfortable as we do flag burners? How long until we white people will stop insisting that blacks exercise personal responsibility, build strong families, educate themselves enough to edit the Harvard Law Review, and work hard enough to become President of the United States, only to threaten to assassinate them when they do? How long before we start "living out the true meaning" of our creeds, both civil and religious, that all men and women are created equal and that "red and yellow, black and white" all are precious in God's sight?
Until this past November 4, I didn't believe this country would ever elect an African American to the presidency. I still don't believe I'll live long enough to see us white people get over our racism problem. But here's my three-point plan: First, everyday that Barack Obama lives in the White House that Black Slaves Built, I'm going to pray that God (and the Secret Service) will protect him and his family from us white people. Second, I'm going to report to the FBI any white person I overhear saying, in seriousness or in jest, anything of a threatening nature about President Obama. Third, I'm going to pray to live long enough to see America surprise the world once again, when white people can "in spirit and in truth" sing of our damnable color prejudice, "We HAVE overcome."
Now tell me what you think about that?
Andrew M. Manis: When Are WE Going to Get Over It?
For much of the last forty years, ever since America "fixed" its race problem in the Civil Rights and Voting Rights Acts, we white people have been impatient with African Americans who continued to blame race for their difficulties. Often we have heard whites ask, "When are African Americans finally going to get over it? Now I want to ask: "When are we White Americans going to get over our ridiculous obsession with skin color?
Recent reports that "Election Spurs Hundreds' of Race Threats, Crimes" should frighten and infuriate every one of us. Having grown up in "Bombingham," Alabama in the 1960s, I remember overhearing an avalanche of comments about what many white classmates and their parents wanted to do to John and Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King. Eventually, as you may recall, in all three cases, someone decided to do more than "talk the talk." Since our recent presidential election, to our eternal shame we are once again hearing the same reprehensible talk I remember from my boyhood.
We white people have controlled political life in the disunited colonies and United States for some 400 years on this continent. Conservative whites have been in power 28 of the last 40 years. Even during the eight Clinton years, conservatives in Congress blocked most of his agenda and pulled him to the right. Yet never in that period did I read any headlines suggesting that anyone was calling for the assassinations of presidents Nixon, Ford, Reagan, or either of the Bushes. Criticize them, yes. Call for their impeachment, perhaps. But there were no bounties on their heads. And even when someone did try to kill Ronald Reagan, the perpetrator was non-political mental case who wanted merely to impress Jody Foster. But elect a liberal who happens to be Black and we're back in the sixties again.
At this point in our history, we should be proud that we've proven what conservatives are always saying -- that in America anything is possible, EVEN electing a black man as president. But instead we now hear that school children from Maine to California are talking about wanting to "assassinate Obama."
Fighting the urge to throw up, I can only ask, "How long?" How long before we white people realize we can't make our nation, much less the whole world, look like us? How long until we white people can - once and for all - get over this hell-conceived preoccupation with skin color? How long until we white people get over the demonic conviction that white skin makes us superior? How long before we white people get over our bitter resentments about being demoted to the status of equality with non-whites? How long before we get over our expectations that we should be at the head of the line merely because of our white skin? How long until we white people end our silence and call out our peers when they share the latest racist jokes in the privacy of our white-only conversations? I believe in free speech, but how long until we white people start making racist loudmouths as socially uncomfortable as we do flag burners? How long until we white people will stop insisting that blacks exercise personal responsibility, build strong families, educate themselves enough to edit the Harvard Law Review, and work hard enough to become President of the United States, only to threaten to assassinate them when they do? How long before we start "living out the true meaning" of our creeds, both civil and religious, that all men and women are created equal and that "red and yellow, black and white" all are precious in God's sight?
Until this past November 4, I didn't believe this country would ever elect an African American to the presidency. I still don't believe I'll live long enough to see us white people get over our racism problem. But here's my three-point plan: First, everyday that Barack Obama lives in the White House that Black Slaves Built, I'm going to pray that God (and the Secret Service) will protect him and his family from us white people. Second, I'm going to report to the FBI any white person I overhear saying, in seriousness or in jest, anything of a threatening nature about President Obama. Third, I'm going to pray to live long enough to see America surprise the world once again, when white people can "in spirit and in truth" sing of our damnable color prejudice, "We HAVE overcome."
Now tell me what you think about that?
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
How's The Weather Up There?
Yet another reason to keep my damn feet on the ground:
COLUMBIA, S.C. – Strapped to his dying instructor a few thousand feet from the ground on his first skydive, Daniel Pharr found himself floating toward a house and some trees.
The military taught the 25-year-old soldier not to panic. And TV taught him to pull the toggles on the already-deployed parachute to steer.
So Pharr grabbed the right handle and pulled to avoid the house and tugged again to miss the trees, landing safely in a field about a third of a mile from their intended landing spot.
Pharr said he wrestled out of the harness binding him to his instructor, George "Chip" Steele, and started CPR trying to save him from an apparent heart attack.
Steele was later pronounced dead, but the tragedy could have been worse: Other instructors at the skydiving school told Pharr if he had pulled the toggle too hard, the chute would have spun out of control, and he could be dead, too.
"They told me afterward that it was amazing that I knew to do that. This is my survival instinct at that point. I just kind of did what I had to do," said Pharr, taking a break Monday from his job at Fort Gordon near Augusta, Ga.
The jump was a Christmas gift from Pharr's girlfriend. The two went to Skydive Carolina in Chester on Saturday to jump from 13,500 feet in the air while attached to instructors.
Steele, 49, gave instructions as the plane climbed. He told Pharr he loved skydiving, having jumped more than 8,000 times.
They were the last of about 10 skydivers to jump out of the plane. Pharr enjoyed a minute of free fall as the cold air rushed by.
"He pulled the chute," Pharr said. "It got super quiet. It's eerily quiet up there. I made the comment to him, 'It's surprising how quiet it is.' And he's like: 'Welcome to my world.'"
A few seconds passed, and Pharr asked his instructor another question. This time, Steele didn't answer. Pharr repeated his question. No answer.
"And then I just looked up at him and he looked like he was conscious, but just talking to him, I realized something was wrong," Pharr said. "So at that point I realized I was just going to have to do what I had to do to get down to the ground and try to help him."
The pair ended up about a third of a mile from the airstrip where they were supposed to land, blocked from the spectators by trees. Pharr's CPR failed to revive Steele.
"My only thing walking away is that I wish I could have helped him," Pharr said. "I tried as hard as I could — all my training, I did everything I could."
After paramedics arrived and stepped in to diagnose Steele, Pharr asked them to call his girlfriend, Jessica Brunson, and mother, who was watching from the air strip.
Pharr's mother said all they knew at the time was from a brief message on another staffer's radio: A tandem pair was down and it didn't look good.
"It was an eternity," Darlene Huggins said, when asked how long it took her to hear her son's message he was safe. "No, really, it could have been 10, 15 minutes."
After talking to authorities, Pharr got to see his girlfriend, who he said kept her composure. "Once she saw me, she was in tears," he said.
Huggins said she asked the Lord to keep her son safe. "I just give the glory to God. He was just covered with that hedge of protection that us mamas pray for," she said.
Initial indications are Steele died of a heart attack. Chester County Coroner Terry Tinker said he would wait for a written report from Monday's autopsy before releasing an official cause of death.
Skydive Carolina General Manager James La Barrie released a statement saying it appeared Steele, a test jumper and instructor, died from a medical problem. No one answered the phone Monday at a listing for Steele in Sumter.
Pharr had to work Sunday, so he immediately went back to Fort Gordon, which is home of the Signal Corps, the communications nerve center of the Army, and deals heavily in military intelligence.
He joined the Army a year ago, leaving his job in Columbia selling alarm systems because he wanted to serve the country like his two grandfathers and get money to go to college. When asked what he does, Pharr laughed and said "can't tell you."
Fellow soldiers have been asking him about his jump for the past two days. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime story, and I told them I hope I never have to top it," Pharr said.
Pharr wants to jump again, but it looks like his first skydive will be his last.
"My family has told me I have to keep my feet on the ground," he said.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Case of the Fake People-Personal Rant
Sometimes I really wish justifiable homicide were legal in this state.
Does anybody else have someone in their life that they have to, for lack of a better phrase, 'deal with' purely on the strength of another person? (i.e. Like you have to tolerate your husbands' shitty elder brother every Christmas dinner. His bad cologne, his even worse jokes, his all around douchiness...) Have you ever wanted to take a hammer to their head?
Yeah, its totally been one of those days. What makes it bad is that often times, this person is so vindictive, miserable, and lonely that they must try their hardest to pull everyone around them into the muck of their misery. What makes it worse is that this person will smile in your face and constantly pretend they are concerned with your general well-being. What makes it ugly is that you know the slightest slip in your general treatment can result in a cataclysmic series of events thatyou never meant to put in motion in the first place.
I'm not going to say I'm perfect, but I know I'm no hypocrite and I know I'm no phony. If I genuinely don't like you, you know within the first five minutes of us meeting. Why? Because my behavior never changes. Once I don't like you, that's it. I don't drag you through the sandy beach of discomfort and then right when you think everything is finally all good, snap my claws down around your waist. No. If I'm going to snap, I do it as soon as I see your piggly-wigglies sticking out of the beach sand.
And if none of this were true, wouldn't we all be on chairs (instead of pins and needles) beating our respective in-laws to death with metal pipes? I'm just sayin'.
Does anybody else have someone in their life that they have to, for lack of a better phrase, 'deal with' purely on the strength of another person? (i.e. Like you have to tolerate your husbands' shitty elder brother every Christmas dinner. His bad cologne, his even worse jokes, his all around douchiness...) Have you ever wanted to take a hammer to their head?
Yeah, its totally been one of those days. What makes it bad is that often times, this person is so vindictive, miserable, and lonely that they must try their hardest to pull everyone around them into the muck of their misery. What makes it worse is that this person will smile in your face and constantly pretend they are concerned with your general well-being. What makes it ugly is that you know the slightest slip in your general treatment can result in a cataclysmic series of events thatyou never meant to put in motion in the first place.
I'm not going to say I'm perfect, but I know I'm no hypocrite and I know I'm no phony. If I genuinely don't like you, you know within the first five minutes of us meeting. Why? Because my behavior never changes. Once I don't like you, that's it. I don't drag you through the sandy beach of discomfort and then right when you think everything is finally all good, snap my claws down around your waist. No. If I'm going to snap, I do it as soon as I see your piggly-wigglies sticking out of the beach sand.
And if none of this were true, wouldn't we all be on chairs (instead of pins and needles) beating our respective in-laws to death with metal pipes? I'm just sayin'.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Let The Games Begin
Going to see "Taken" tonight. Doesn't his monologue alone mak you want to see that? "I don't ave money but what I do have are a very particular set of skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you don't bring my daughter back, I will hunt you down. I will find you, and I will kill you." Come on, as if Liam Neeson isn't scary enough. Remember his haunting Ra's Al Ghoul? I just wanna see him get a guy in the kneecaps with a pair of screws, I mean, does it get more awesome than that?
Everything I Haven't Seen & Am Consequently Pissed About:
Changeling
Gran Torino
Milk
My Bloody Valentine
Doubt
Nobel Son
What Doesn't Kill You
Seven Pounds
The Spirit
Valkyrie
Things I Want To See
Friday the 13th (Yeah, I just gotta know if they kill this fucker once and for all.)
The Univited
He's Just Not That Into You
The International (This guy just doesn't like simple drama, huh?)
Fired Up (On occasion, when they are helplessly stupid I get caught up in these teen flicks. The last one Ienjoyed was Stick It, and waaaaaaay before that, the one I think that started it all, Bring It On (member how young Gabrielle Union was back then??))
Duplicity (Look out for it, it's gonna be a banger)
I Love You, Man
***Last House on the Left*** I have to get the original before this comes out because it's supposed to be the one horror movie that actually scared my mother (And let's keep in mind here she grew up in the sixties and seventies, when Wes "The Remake King" Craven started to get really popular. So if it did a number on her, I, who follow in her fearless footsteps, must to subject myself to director Dennis Illiadis' latest effort.
Everything I Haven't Seen & Am Consequently Pissed About:
Changeling
Gran Torino
Milk
My Bloody Valentine
Doubt
Nobel Son
What Doesn't Kill You
Seven Pounds
The Spirit
Valkyrie
Things I Want To See
Friday the 13th (Yeah, I just gotta know if they kill this fucker once and for all.)
The Univited
He's Just Not That Into You
The International (This guy just doesn't like simple drama, huh?)
Fired Up (On occasion, when they are helplessly stupid I get caught up in these teen flicks. The last one Ienjoyed was Stick It, and waaaaaaay before that, the one I think that started it all, Bring It On (member how young Gabrielle Union was back then??))
Duplicity (Look out for it, it's gonna be a banger)
I Love You, Man
***Last House on the Left*** I have to get the original before this comes out because it's supposed to be the one horror movie that actually scared my mother (And let's keep in mind here she grew up in the sixties and seventies, when Wes "The Remake King" Craven started to get really popular. So if it did a number on her, I, who follow in her fearless footsteps, must to subject myself to director Dennis Illiadis' latest effort.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
1, 2, Sound Off, 3, 4
Does anybody else have that one person at their job who is insanely good at their job but at the same time finds a way to be an insane pain in the ass? Yes, I'm sure we've all been there: that account executive who acts like he's God's gift to marketing, the receptionist who never tranfers your calls but everyone else seems to get every single one, or even the boss who knows you're a year and a half overdue on your raise but he's gonna make you keep driving around in that Ford Pinto anyway. Wherever we go, we meet a douchebag, and of course, now that I'm working, I have to suffer my share as well.
Have you guys ever dealt with the paging system? "Paging Dr. Ross, paging Dr. Ross." Yeah, I've got one of those insufferable fuckers here too. It's gotten so pissy annoying that I've been left with no choice but to stick my buds in my ears and turn my music just high enough to drown them out. (Pink- Most Girls)
Which means that the receptionist must page me again. And again. And again, until someone looks over my computer and realizes that I'm not even in the same galaxy. I thought our receptionist was cool up until I had to start covering her. I work upstairs in the administrative department, basically performing essential record keeping functions for the company. But my dual responsibilty is to cover the front desk on our RC's break. Fine, whatever.
It didn't become a problem until homegirl started taking "nigga breaks," (See Kings of Comedy) and cutting into my time. You see, I take my break when she returns from her own. But there are still two full hours left in the day at that point. (If you're advanced, you'll see where I'm going with this, if not, keep reading)
The Battle Royale began when I noticed that she was calling me at least twice a day to cover her for a "quick bathroom break" or "to warm up my coffee/food." Now I don't undestand how you could possibly still have food/coffe at 12 when your break is at one, but whatever. I bit the bullet and went on downstairs.
As you all know, I get annoyed quickly. I would get down there and oftentimes, a quick bathroom break would be combined with reheating foodstuffs, which would then lead to me answering phones for like fifteen minutes. When I first got there and there wasn't shit for me to do, this was acceptable. Now that I have a crapload on an almost daily basis, it's not so okay anymore.
So I started sending her calls straight to voicemail. I would let them accumulate, then check and erase my messages at the end of the day. That didn't stop anything, as the calls continued. I resorted to putting my phone on DND and that seemed to staunch the flow for a little bit. Ha. How wrong was I?
When she realized that I was no longer answering my phone, she began to call my supervisor, who would confirm that I was indeed at my desk, WORKING, but I would be down to cover for he rin a few minutes. That's shortly after I started putting in my headphones (Aaliyah & DMX- Back In One Piece) to drown her out.
I started to get extremely pissed after her first offense, which was strolling in here an entire half hour after her (extended!!) break had been completed. She had gone for a cosmetic consultation and hadn't even seen the doctor until she had ten minutes left on her break. So basically, I was covering her for 2 hours, and was late to lunch and had to spend the rest of the afternoon playing catch-up. The second offense came about two weeks later, aka, Tuesday.
I had actually bothered to answer the page this time, but only because I had just returned from the restroom myself and couldn't pretend I hadn't heard her. She asks me to cover her for another "quick bathroom break." (Keep in mind what I said earlier, and her break begins at 1pm.)
This call came at 12:20, and I made sure it took me a full five minutes to get down there so I could cool off before entering the reception area. (You've been holding it all fucking day, you mean to tell me another thirty minutes until your break is gonna kill you??) My issue is this: Why did you return from your "QBB" a full twenty-five minutes later? Basically, you just wasted a half-hour of my time. Which is totally unfair because you're now wasting my time. You can't come upstairs and cover me when I want a break!
Besides the minor smaller infractions of continuously returning from her break 5-10 minutes late, I have given up all hope of actually having a civil working relationship with the broad. I've decided to keep it curt and to the point from now on, because folks take advantage of you when you're kind. I figured, okay, yeah, give her a break, she's been here since eight. Then I found out that she receives an additional 30 minute break of her choosing because she works longer hours. Yeah, fuck that.
Have you guys ever dealt with the paging system? "Paging Dr. Ross, paging Dr. Ross." Yeah, I've got one of those insufferable fuckers here too. It's gotten so pissy annoying that I've been left with no choice but to stick my buds in my ears and turn my music just high enough to drown them out. (Pink- Most Girls)
Which means that the receptionist must page me again. And again. And again, until someone looks over my computer and realizes that I'm not even in the same galaxy. I thought our receptionist was cool up until I had to start covering her. I work upstairs in the administrative department, basically performing essential record keeping functions for the company. But my dual responsibilty is to cover the front desk on our RC's break. Fine, whatever.
It didn't become a problem until homegirl started taking "nigga breaks," (See Kings of Comedy) and cutting into my time. You see, I take my break when she returns from her own. But there are still two full hours left in the day at that point. (If you're advanced, you'll see where I'm going with this, if not, keep reading)
The Battle Royale began when I noticed that she was calling me at least twice a day to cover her for a "quick bathroom break" or "to warm up my coffee/food." Now I don't undestand how you could possibly still have food/coffe at 12 when your break is at one, but whatever. I bit the bullet and went on downstairs.
As you all know, I get annoyed quickly. I would get down there and oftentimes, a quick bathroom break would be combined with reheating foodstuffs, which would then lead to me answering phones for like fifteen minutes. When I first got there and there wasn't shit for me to do, this was acceptable. Now that I have a crapload on an almost daily basis, it's not so okay anymore.
So I started sending her calls straight to voicemail. I would let them accumulate, then check and erase my messages at the end of the day. That didn't stop anything, as the calls continued. I resorted to putting my phone on DND and that seemed to staunch the flow for a little bit. Ha. How wrong was I?
When she realized that I was no longer answering my phone, she began to call my supervisor, who would confirm that I was indeed at my desk, WORKING, but I would be down to cover for he rin a few minutes. That's shortly after I started putting in my headphones (Aaliyah & DMX- Back In One Piece) to drown her out.
I started to get extremely pissed after her first offense, which was strolling in here an entire half hour after her (extended!!) break had been completed. She had gone for a cosmetic consultation and hadn't even seen the doctor until she had ten minutes left on her break. So basically, I was covering her for 2 hours, and was late to lunch and had to spend the rest of the afternoon playing catch-up. The second offense came about two weeks later, aka, Tuesday.
I had actually bothered to answer the page this time, but only because I had just returned from the restroom myself and couldn't pretend I hadn't heard her. She asks me to cover her for another "quick bathroom break." (Keep in mind what I said earlier, and her break begins at 1pm.)
This call came at 12:20, and I made sure it took me a full five minutes to get down there so I could cool off before entering the reception area. (You've been holding it all fucking day, you mean to tell me another thirty minutes until your break is gonna kill you??) My issue is this: Why did you return from your "QBB" a full twenty-five minutes later? Basically, you just wasted a half-hour of my time. Which is totally unfair because you're now wasting my time. You can't come upstairs and cover me when I want a break!
Besides the minor smaller infractions of continuously returning from her break 5-10 minutes late, I have given up all hope of actually having a civil working relationship with the broad. I've decided to keep it curt and to the point from now on, because folks take advantage of you when you're kind. I figured, okay, yeah, give her a break, she's been here since eight. Then I found out that she receives an additional 30 minute break of her choosing because she works longer hours. Yeah, fuck that.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
We'll Never Fade Away
So I'm going to the check cashing place to drop off our companies checks for the week. I've got my headphones on, I'm totally in the zone. AM Conspiracy, 3 Doors Down, 30 Seconds to Mars, and AFI are swirling through my ears. I'm singing as though I have no headphones on just for the simple fact that I'm so fucking glad to be out of the building. I get to the place and drop off the checks, turning and walking back out to the tune of AFI's "Miss Murder." (Love that song!)
*DINGBAT MOMENT OF THE YEAR AWARD* GOES TO:
The white lady ahead of me (whom I was paying no mind whatsoever) who suddenly starts to speed up and after her hundred meter dash to the street corner, turns and flips me the bird. I frown at her mainly because I have no idea WTF her problem is. Then I laugh aloud, literally, I had to stop and catch my breath, when I realize she must've thought the lyrics I was signing were directed at her.
Miss Murder, chorus:
Hey Miss Murder can I
Hey Miss Murder can I
Make beauty stay if I
Take my life, oh oh oh
How could she have possibly fucked that up???
I already told you guys I was going through somewhat of a punk-alternative-pop rock phase, with the sounds of Fall Out Boy and Paramore in my headphones on a daily basis.
(Sidebar: So it's official; Weezy F. Baby drops Rebirth, his first rock album, yeah you heard me, on April 7th. Has anyone heard Prom Queen yet??? Thoughts please?)
The top ten songs I've got rotation right now:
1. Paramore- Misery Business
2. Fall Out Boy- I Don't Care
3. 30 Seconds To Mars- Insert anything from both albums here.
4. Creed- Never Die
5. Nirvana- Smells Like Teen Spirit
6. AM Conspiracy- Right On Time
7. Nonpoint- In The Air Tonight (as you may recall, the only thing that saved the travesty that was the Miami Vice remake.)
8. Coldplay- Viva La Vida (and I still listen to and love "Clocks")
9. Rise Against- Survive
10. 3 Doors Down- Kryptonite
**Bonus Song: Three Days Grace- Riot**
*Honorable Mention: Chevelle- Well Enough Alone*
You'll probably remember a couple of those songs from the 90's; if any of my latest readers are Smackdown vs Raw officionados, then they too will recognize some of these tunes. I've always had an inner white girl; I can remember back when Foo Fighters "Learn To Fly" was released, and when Third Eye Blind's "Jumper" was my favorite song on the Z100 rotation. Gosh, come to think of it, what happened to everybody from the old days???
Sugar Ray
Vertical Horizon
Eagle-Eye Cherry
Sixpence None the Richer
Smashing Pumpkins
Soundgarden
Ninedays!!! This is the story of a girl, who cried a river and drowned the whole world...
Verve Pipe (they are still alive, right??) "The Freshman" is still my favorite song by them to this day.
Citizen King? Everlast? Savage Garden?
Is any of that shit ringing a bell? I said all that to say that I'm not one of those fickle people, who joins a genre because of one catchy tune. I've liked rock for a long time without actually knowing it. The Who, Aerosmith, Rolling Stones, Led Zepplin, Jimi Hendrix and Santana all make frequent appearences on my mp3 player. Just can't get enough of those oldies but goodies, especially since the trash they're consistently pumping out these days leaves soooooo much to be desired.
Time to punch out.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Sleep Depraived Rantings...
So as you folks may (or may not, depending on whether you got the group text from my phone) know, I've been working for about two moonths now. It's a temp agency in the grease-trap of New York: Time Square. Times Square sucks. It's the absolute shittiest part of New York to be in and that's saying something. Of course, the tourists love it here, but when you left a filthy city with teeming masses in the streets at all hours of the day and night, you'd be right at home here.
The up-side is the short commute. The train station is right on my block, and then right around the corner from my job. So I don't have to worry about those five degree, "Oh-my-God-where-the-hell-is-this-bus?" days. The down-side to the up-sde is that the commute, although brief, has the potential to ruin any good day.
Today was entirely too good a day to be ruined. I was late thanks to the Boyfriend, which wasnt entirely a bad thing due to the smile he sent to work with. I caught myself falling asleep at the desk, which set off a chain of events afterwards; going to the bathroom, getting a cold drink from the cooler, etc. i could only imagine if I had crashed forehead first into the keyboard.
(Update: Pleasure Principle is almost complete. I am very proud of it, and I hope you wil enjoy it as well. When I am approved to divulge the juicy details, I will do so. Also, look out for the tour. Seriously. I'm really doing it this time.)
I will or will not be continuing this post after lunch depneding on how the mood strikes me. I have to cover the receptionists lunch break, so its and hour (and however else long its gonna take her to get back) of "Thanks for calling Essex, please hold."
Hold my hair while I puke.
The up-side is the short commute. The train station is right on my block, and then right around the corner from my job. So I don't have to worry about those five degree, "Oh-my-God-where-the-hell-is-this-bus?" days. The down-side to the up-sde is that the commute, although brief, has the potential to ruin any good day.
Today was entirely too good a day to be ruined. I was late thanks to the Boyfriend, which wasnt entirely a bad thing due to the smile he sent to work with. I caught myself falling asleep at the desk, which set off a chain of events afterwards; going to the bathroom, getting a cold drink from the cooler, etc. i could only imagine if I had crashed forehead first into the keyboard.
(Update: Pleasure Principle is almost complete. I am very proud of it, and I hope you wil enjoy it as well. When I am approved to divulge the juicy details, I will do so. Also, look out for the tour. Seriously. I'm really doing it this time.)
I will or will not be continuing this post after lunch depneding on how the mood strikes me. I have to cover the receptionists lunch break, so its and hour (and however else long its gonna take her to get back) of "Thanks for calling Essex, please hold."
Hold my hair while I puke.
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