Monday, November 16, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Work sucks. I know
So my co-worker confronted me yesterday after she saw that I had taken a bunch of job sheets to be processed that she typically does. We usually have our own accounts that we frequently bill because we are familiar with those customers. There are a few that bounce between us because we're just not always present. Which is fine. It just ends up that whenever she isn't present I usually pick up the bulk of the work. She recently made an effort to do her share, although this at one point created a lot of extra work for me because she entered the information incorrectly, leaving me to issue credit memos and call up several customers. Patience, Andrew.
So I do a lot of work. I'm talking, a elephant's colon load of work compared to my co-worker. She has been here for, coming on nine years, I believe. My start date is just a year and a half ago. Frankly, the position is not difficult: I issue invoices to customers and make corrections if the customers call with errors they've found. This is certainly easier than what I was doing before with my mother who headed all duties of a fully-staffed accounting department. This current position is merely time-consuming, not challenging. I do various other tasks that Ken, Bill, Bob, Betty, Dirk, or whoever would like me to do. When graciously requested, I am happy to oblige. My co-worker spends at least two full hours on the phone per day. Another four hours is surely to Internet browsing and general daydreaming. I'm no saint either, naturally. Being a computer nerd, I'm scouring MeFi, my favorite blogs, and other distracting sites for enrichment and entertainment. Allow me to rationalize the inherent better-ness of my distractions over hers: I can quickly detach from my fun to hop into work mode. I am more accessible and approachable when I am sitting here in front of the keyboard, as opposed to the more intimidating situation of interrupting someone talking on the phone (is that a customer on the line or a personal call?). Getting things done? David Allen would be proud of how fast I complete my work. Bottom line, I do more work than she does and if I need to blow off steam, I deserve it.
I never liked the idea of announcing my actions and intentions. When I do someone a favor I will do it without making a fuss. I understand that truly making a fuss or at least playfully teasing the person for doing them a favor may, all in all, be a healthier choice for the relationship between favor-deliverer and favor-recipient, but I always feel an aversion to having my actions acknowledged. Call it a pretentious tendency, call it a flaw. My co-worker enjoys making it known that she's stressing out over work and is really busy right now, you guys. Even though she's doing a fifth of the work I'm doing, she does her own PR and will chitchat with people in the company and making it a point that she's toiling. I keep my mouth shut and do my work. The (foolish) hope that my work will speak for me. I feel my blood congealing into a lump of icy contempt. She's a liar and she's getting rewarded for lying. According to stories I've heard, she once used this to her advantage. When she first started, she was swamped with work and couldn't handle it. She broke down into tears and was given a raise. The workload subsided and she continues to get healthy raises every year. She has the second-highest salary in the office according to sources.
Noone in the company likes her. She is impulsive and impatient when her needs aren't being met. She tries to be polite. Instead, she just poorly masks her lack of empathy and consideration coupled with tenuous social and listening skills. I know my boss is aware of the amount of work she is not doing, the extended lunch breaks, and the general shitty employee shit she's pulling.
So yeah, she confronted me and started telling me that we are a team and no accounts belong to either one of us. We are a team. Don't say that shit to me when every action you've taken so far has been far from teamwork. Don't smear me by accusing me of selfish behavior when all I have been doing has been for the good of the department. I have been doing MORE work voluntarily. How is this poor teamwork? I told her that I do certain accounts specifically, because I know the account better than she does and that's how it's usually done. I tell her that if she's absent and there's a change, I try to inform her when she returns. For example, when Ken passes new info along, I pass that on to her, I tell her. The very next statement she parrots everything I just said and from her wording completely didn't process what I just said. She says that she tries to inform me of changes from Ken and when he tells her new info, she tells me and she doesn't feel like I do that for her. I go what the--were you listening to me? Did you listen to what I just said? It's like your brain heard what I said, ignored the message completely and simply decided to adopt it as a talking point, and returned the same words to the person who just fucking said it. Seriously, I am pretty sure that when further advances in pathology have been made there will be a condition with her fucking name on it. She just doesn't listen at all. I frequently repeat myself and at first I was patient but now it's really getting to me.
This is just to vent. Excuse the same poor writing that you've come to expect of me. I just can't believe that people can spin their situations into pitiable circumstances and become a beneficiary built upon fraud. This is all silly. I should complain about something else. I can see why people hope for punishment in the afterlife. This woman's going to on with her life, being so effing selfish and ultimately not get punished for her actions. Reality bites.
So I do a lot of work. I'm talking, a elephant's colon load of work compared to my co-worker. She has been here for, coming on nine years, I believe. My start date is just a year and a half ago. Frankly, the position is not difficult: I issue invoices to customers and make corrections if the customers call with errors they've found. This is certainly easier than what I was doing before with my mother who headed all duties of a fully-staffed accounting department. This current position is merely time-consuming, not challenging. I do various other tasks that Ken, Bill, Bob, Betty, Dirk, or whoever would like me to do. When graciously requested, I am happy to oblige. My co-worker spends at least two full hours on the phone per day. Another four hours is surely to Internet browsing and general daydreaming. I'm no saint either, naturally. Being a computer nerd, I'm scouring MeFi, my favorite blogs, and other distracting sites for enrichment and entertainment. Allow me to rationalize the inherent better-ness of my distractions over hers: I can quickly detach from my fun to hop into work mode. I am more accessible and approachable when I am sitting here in front of the keyboard, as opposed to the more intimidating situation of interrupting someone talking on the phone (is that a customer on the line or a personal call?). Getting things done? David Allen would be proud of how fast I complete my work. Bottom line, I do more work than she does and if I need to blow off steam, I deserve it.
I never liked the idea of announcing my actions and intentions. When I do someone a favor I will do it without making a fuss. I understand that truly making a fuss or at least playfully teasing the person for doing them a favor may, all in all, be a healthier choice for the relationship between favor-deliverer and favor-recipient, but I always feel an aversion to having my actions acknowledged. Call it a pretentious tendency, call it a flaw. My co-worker enjoys making it known that she's stressing out over work and is really busy right now, you guys. Even though she's doing a fifth of the work I'm doing, she does her own PR and will chitchat with people in the company and making it a point that she's toiling. I keep my mouth shut and do my work. The (foolish) hope that my work will speak for me. I feel my blood congealing into a lump of icy contempt. She's a liar and she's getting rewarded for lying. According to stories I've heard, she once used this to her advantage. When she first started, she was swamped with work and couldn't handle it. She broke down into tears and was given a raise. The workload subsided and she continues to get healthy raises every year. She has the second-highest salary in the office according to sources.
Noone in the company likes her. She is impulsive and impatient when her needs aren't being met. She tries to be polite. Instead, she just poorly masks her lack of empathy and consideration coupled with tenuous social and listening skills. I know my boss is aware of the amount of work she is not doing, the extended lunch breaks, and the general shitty employee shit she's pulling.
So yeah, she confronted me and started telling me that we are a team and no accounts belong to either one of us. We are a team. Don't say that shit to me when every action you've taken so far has been far from teamwork. Don't smear me by accusing me of selfish behavior when all I have been doing has been for the good of the department. I have been doing MORE work voluntarily. How is this poor teamwork? I told her that I do certain accounts specifically, because I know the account better than she does and that's how it's usually done. I tell her that if she's absent and there's a change, I try to inform her when she returns. For example, when Ken passes new info along, I pass that on to her, I tell her. The very next statement she parrots everything I just said and from her wording completely didn't process what I just said. She says that she tries to inform me of changes from Ken and when he tells her new info, she tells me and she doesn't feel like I do that for her. I go what the--were you listening to me? Did you listen to what I just said? It's like your brain heard what I said, ignored the message completely and simply decided to adopt it as a talking point, and returned the same words to the person who just fucking said it. Seriously, I am pretty sure that when further advances in pathology have been made there will be a condition with her fucking name on it. She just doesn't listen at all. I frequently repeat myself and at first I was patient but now it's really getting to me.
This is just to vent. Excuse the same poor writing that you've come to expect of me. I just can't believe that people can spin their situations into pitiable circumstances and become a beneficiary built upon fraud. This is all silly. I should complain about something else. I can see why people hope for punishment in the afterlife. This woman's going to on with her life, being so effing selfish and ultimately not get punished for her actions. Reality bites.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Pick up
I once wanted to literally pick up a girl to impress her. Not a stranger. A girl I had a crush on who didn't reciprocate.
Monday, June 29, 2009
This is why I'm hot
so maybe we're plunging into a cultural boondoggle when we bring electric, steam-powered, new-fangled ideas into the plum role of money-making power houses. the forces that be are the forces that were while the superstar of yesteryear becomes a faint memory of the shiny plastic and dye that revolves around your Play-On player until the two vertical lines are pressed. pause. no homo. save your words for the righteous one. the smarmy fuckle, fickle fellow with the fedora. feel the air rush through your veins and the embolism is only a mile away. did you know that if you lined up every inch of skin from end to end you'd be dead? it's true. i read it. i felt it. i made it understand that there isn't anyone in the world that can harness the true energy of the atom. push it through the assembly and disperse the crowd. cause a scene and ruin the night. you come in here thinking your portfolio is full of fresh and free media? can you repeat that to me again because i didn't give a shit the first time. lead the way, down the well, as this mess leaves us wanting and waiting for the mess. i am making you money and you don't even know it.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Erector set
I have a boner.
http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=secrets-of-the-phallus
Evolutionary psychologist tackles the human penis. What he reveals is his dick.
Semen displacement. Upsuck. Polyamory. It's got everything.
Dick.
(via fimoculous)
http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=secrets-of-the-phallus
Evolutionary psychologist tackles the human penis. What he reveals is his dick.
Semen displacement. Upsuck. Polyamory. It's got everything.
Dick.
(via fimoculous)
Monday, May 4, 2009
Urban Outfitters models
There's something about seeing only the lower half of a woman's face that drives me to arousal.
Sweet!
Sweet!
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Lady Gaga
I love this woman. There is nothing more admirable than obstinately pursuing her fabulous(!) vision and completely losing herself on stage (all the world's a stage) through singing, dancing, and persistent performance art. She reaches in, steeping her arms in the audience's awe, delivering beats from a character that has been honing its skills for years. She's put in her hours.
I love this woman.
Update:
These are a few of her quotes on IMDB:
[YES]
On her style: My grandmother is basically blind, but she can make out the lighter parts, like my skin and hair. She says, "I can see you, because you have no pants on." So I'll continue to wear no pants so that my grandma can see me.
[Yes.]
I dropped out of NYU, moved out of my parent's house, got my own place, and survived on my own. I made music and worked my way from the bottom up. I didn't know somebody, who knew somebody, who knew somebody. If I have any advice to anybody, it's to just do it yourself, and don't waste time trying to get a favor.
[YES]
Writing a record is like dating a few men at once. You take them to the same restaurants to see if they measure up, and at some point you decide who you like best. When you make music or write or create, it's really your job to have mind-blowing, irresponsible, condomless sex with whatever idea it is you're writing about at the time.
[Tapping Semi-Precious Weapons at the end]
I love Dolce & Gabbana. I love Versace. I love the crazy, more eccentric stuff. I can't pay my rent, but I'm f---ing gorgeous.
I love this woman.
Update:
These are a few of her quotes on IMDB:
[YES]
On her style: My grandmother is basically blind, but she can make out the lighter parts, like my skin and hair. She says, "I can see you, because you have no pants on." So I'll continue to wear no pants so that my grandma can see me.
[Yes.]
I dropped out of NYU, moved out of my parent's house, got my own place, and survived on my own. I made music and worked my way from the bottom up. I didn't know somebody, who knew somebody, who knew somebody. If I have any advice to anybody, it's to just do it yourself, and don't waste time trying to get a favor.
[YES]
Writing a record is like dating a few men at once. You take them to the same restaurants to see if they measure up, and at some point you decide who you like best. When you make music or write or create, it's really your job to have mind-blowing, irresponsible, condomless sex with whatever idea it is you're writing about at the time.
[Tapping Semi-Precious Weapons at the end]
I love Dolce & Gabbana. I love Versace. I love the crazy, more eccentric stuff. I can't pay my rent, but I'm f---ing gorgeous.
Monday, April 27, 2009
On an empty stage
Matt Cavenaugh and Jenny Powers. Two leading Broadway stars. I always fall for these Real Estate articles that use the lives of the inhabitants as vehicles to talk about a neighborhood's lifestyle. Makes me all teary-eyed. Yep.
Ooo, Weddings/Celebrations? I will have a look.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/26/realestate/26habi.html
Ooo, Weddings/Celebrations? I will have a look.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/26/realestate/26habi.html
Thursday, April 23, 2009
You twit.
The Awl takes down Maureen Dowd, heralding her irrelevance.
Also regarding the journalists who need the tweeting and those who don't:
"David Carr, you are FILLING UP MY DASHBOARD, YOU HAVE TO CHILL"
http://www.theawl.com/2009/04/person-with-twice-weekly-column-feels-no-need-to-provide-instant-updates
(via fimoculous)
Also regarding the journalists who need the tweeting and those who don't:
"David Carr, you are FILLING UP MY DASHBOARD, YOU HAVE TO CHILL"
http://www.theawl.com/2009/04/person-with-twice-weekly-column-feels-no-need-to-provide-instant-updates
(via fimoculous)
Friday, April 3, 2009
A is for Apple
Tragic and though I hope the, as of now, unresolved situation does not claim anymore lives, I must point out that the New York Times posted some awesome graphics for the Binghamton American Civic Association incident. Assuming that readers have no idea where the heck Binghamton is, one of their big pictures is a map of New York state, showing where my alma mater's humble, Podunk hometown is located, relative to Albany and New York City.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/04/nyregion/04hostage.html
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/04/nyregion/04hostage.html
Friday, March 27, 2009
MY RESPECTS TO YOU
Atheism is a belief system I believe in. A belief system of no belief in the existence of deities. I love it. Supernatural occurrences can be undone by science and evidence showing that was happened was mere happenstance.
Oh atheism and rationality, you have shown me what to do in most situations. But, you have failed me when I most frequently need you: What do I say when a person sneezes? Tradition says to say, "Bless you!" and I balk at using what sounds like a religious exclamation.
What do I say to a sneeze? People will think that I am rude if I remain silent. Those around have stopped saying it to me and it kind of hurts.
Oh boo-frakking-hoo. It doesn't hurt that much. I still don't want to be a spaz.
"MY RESPECTS TO YOU." seemed like a fine substitute, albeit stilted and out of place.
"ARE YOU OKAY?" would have genuine concern behind it (seriously), but the person may be confused as to what I am referring to.
I think I will settle on "THAT WAS A GOOD ONE." It addresses the action and compliments the person. A step beyond the crummy "Bless you!"
Oh atheism and rationality, you have shown me what to do in most situations. But, you have failed me when I most frequently need you: What do I say when a person sneezes? Tradition says to say, "Bless you!" and I balk at using what sounds like a religious exclamation.
What do I say to a sneeze? People will think that I am rude if I remain silent. Those around have stopped saying it to me and it kind of hurts.
Oh boo-frakking-hoo. It doesn't hurt that much. I still don't want to be a spaz.
"MY RESPECTS TO YOU." seemed like a fine substitute, albeit stilted and out of place.
"ARE YOU OKAY?" would have genuine concern behind it (seriously), but the person may be confused as to what I am referring to.
I think I will settle on "THAT WAS A GOOD ONE." It addresses the action and compliments the person. A step beyond the crummy "Bless you!"
Monday, March 2, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
FUCK
Seething, right now. I know there are plenty of intelligent people out there, a part of any group. But, there are times when I just want to throw my hands up in despair and deride all members of certain groups, knowing that that is completely unfair. What justifies my hatred for this group is that its members volunteer to be brain-bleached into unending ignorance. Right-wing nuts who have clearly adopted their ideas through mere legacy--repeating words and morals they heard from their conservative kin in their formative years--are formidable nuisances. That is, they are adept at completely baffling you and stopping you from being able to believe that they are saying the stupidest shit right fucking now. FUCK
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8hMJVXt09E
The comments are filled with the most sexist and ignorant spew I never thought would ever come from the minds of rational human beings.
Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and I'm not going to be dense and dismiss these people as crazy. That's unfair. Everything that has happened has contributed to the opinions that they now claim to hold. I feel that most conservatives just fail to look deeper into issues and the long-term effects of any policy. I'm not saying that lefties have a perfect vision. It's just that nothing's black-and-white and this tendency to see things that way have completely ruined our conversation (ah, damn it Denby!).
Name-calling, subject-changing, getting attention by performing with apoplectic rage. Pitiful tactics, I say. I'll stop here for now. So tired of trying so hard to make a difference while the ignorant remain ignorant due to minimal effort to expose themselves to the realities of American life today.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8hMJVXt09E
The comments are filled with the most sexist and ignorant spew I never thought would ever come from the minds of rational human beings.
Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and I'm not going to be dense and dismiss these people as crazy. That's unfair. Everything that has happened has contributed to the opinions that they now claim to hold. I feel that most conservatives just fail to look deeper into issues and the long-term effects of any policy. I'm not saying that lefties have a perfect vision. It's just that nothing's black-and-white and this tendency to see things that way have completely ruined our conversation (ah, damn it Denby!).
Name-calling, subject-changing, getting attention by performing with apoplectic rage. Pitiful tactics, I say. I'll stop here for now. So tired of trying so hard to make a difference while the ignorant remain ignorant due to minimal effort to expose themselves to the realities of American life today.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Indulge
if i lived in fresh water, would i ever have to drink water?
if i lived in chocolate cakes, would i never have to eat again?
if i lived in chocolate cakes, would i never have to eat again?
Monday, January 26, 2009
A mouse drenched in oil
It's the sound of metal rubbing on metal. Or maybe a frustrated teacher impatiently rephrasing new notes onto a blackboard. It could be the heater kicking on on this frigid day. Oh, it's a mouse stuck in a trap.
A mouse was struggling to free itself from one of the office glue traps. It's whole left back was stretched and flat against the side of this newfound shelter. Like a furry little carny, taking a ride on the Round Up, having the centrifugal force smushing him against the wall.
I sympathized for the two beady eyes that stared back at me. Frightened but ready to fight, his paws stood firm. Although that may have been the industrial grade glue forcing him to maintain such poise in the face of an intimidating human. His fierceness was lessened by his left cheek being stretched and attached to the wall. Was this one of nature's scare tactics? The hissing of a snake, the bright colors of a poisonous tree frog, the dilophosaurus ready to spit in my face? His face was just glued to the wall.
I bought a small 16 oz. bottle of Red & White Premium Quality vegetable oil at the corner bodega. I brought the mouse outside and sat on the curb with the mouse problem in front of me. He started freaking the fuck out when I poured vegetable oil on him. I gently rubbed and he tried to bite me, his teeth grabbing only the latex gloves I had put on. The oil worked itself in and he was saved from a slow death. He quickly sprinted straight across the street. I was afraid he might get smushed by a car. I discarded the gloves and now useless mouse trap.
A mouse was struggling to free itself from one of the office glue traps. It's whole left back was stretched and flat against the side of this newfound shelter. Like a furry little carny, taking a ride on the Round Up, having the centrifugal force smushing him against the wall.
I sympathized for the two beady eyes that stared back at me. Frightened but ready to fight, his paws stood firm. Although that may have been the industrial grade glue forcing him to maintain such poise in the face of an intimidating human. His fierceness was lessened by his left cheek being stretched and attached to the wall. Was this one of nature's scare tactics? The hissing of a snake, the bright colors of a poisonous tree frog, the dilophosaurus ready to spit in my face? His face was just glued to the wall.
I bought a small 16 oz. bottle of Red & White Premium Quality vegetable oil at the corner bodega. I brought the mouse outside and sat on the curb with the mouse problem in front of me. He started freaking the fuck out when I poured vegetable oil on him. I gently rubbed and he tried to bite me, his teeth grabbing only the latex gloves I had put on. The oil worked itself in and he was saved from a slow death. He quickly sprinted straight across the street. I was afraid he might get smushed by a car. I discarded the gloves and now useless mouse trap.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
You have a little something on your face
Recognition and acknowledgement are pretty cool things. Being rewarded for the time and effort you put into a project creates one of the few sensations that pass under the radar, yet continues to fly (Was that corny? Did it make sense?).
A co-worker of mine was recently snacking on puffed rice. As she stuffed her stupid mouth, she was commenting on how her diet was keeping her from eating the foods she loves. Health concerns are the primary reason and I could sympathize. I was trying to do my work and she was keeping me from it. A puffed rice piece managed to sneak its way onto the corner of her mouth, hanging solely by a film of spit and near-weightlessness. Her nerves didn't fire and I enjoyed the few minutes of platitudes, now made interesting by the homely source; a face slightly stained by a lost grain. Shady as fuck? Maybe.
I took pleasure in this tableau. The feeling of coming into work or school in an outfit you were unsure of a few hours ago, confronted by a mirror that won't let you be content. That's her. If she knew about the rice.
She rubbed it off when I wasn't looking. But at the corner of my eye I saw her do it.
[I'm so fucking despicable.]
A co-worker of mine was recently snacking on puffed rice. As she stuffed her stupid mouth, she was commenting on how her diet was keeping her from eating the foods she loves. Health concerns are the primary reason and I could sympathize. I was trying to do my work and she was keeping me from it. A puffed rice piece managed to sneak its way onto the corner of her mouth, hanging solely by a film of spit and near-weightlessness. Her nerves didn't fire and I enjoyed the few minutes of platitudes, now made interesting by the homely source; a face slightly stained by a lost grain. Shady as fuck? Maybe.
I took pleasure in this tableau. The feeling of coming into work or school in an outfit you were unsure of a few hours ago, confronted by a mirror that won't let you be content. That's her. If she knew about the rice.
She rubbed it off when I wasn't looking. But at the corner of my eye I saw her do it.
[I'm so fucking despicable.]
Thursday, January 8, 2009
reCAPTCHA
reCAPTCHA uses those CAPTCHA human verification codes you see when you sign up for sites nowadays to transcribe unreadable words in books they've attempted to scan. It's pretty clever when you think about it.
http://recaptcha.net/
http://recaptcha.net/
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