Maraschino's Blog

This Is How I Disappear

nobody@vox.com(Maraschino) — Wed, 31 Jan 2007 20:32:18 -0800

Damn! The system ate my first post! At least someone (or something) is eating around here!!!

As if I don't have enough going on already, I have decided to go on a diet. Yes, yes I know, that's the worst 4-letter word out there, but I'm feeling like I'm approaching the Tyra Banks level of full-figuredness (see below). Not that it's completely wrong, but for my frame it would just not look right. I'm not a 6' model. I'm a 5'-something average figure normal person and every little pound, unfortunately, shows. It's time I did something and wasn't more evident than when I got weighed at the doctor's office today. I went in because my left ear is plugged up. I can't really describe it except for the sensation you get when you're flying and you need to "pop" your ears. Except with me, there's no popping relief to be had. Before the doctor could see me for this strange affliction, I needed to go through the routine of getting weighed, blood pressure checked, etc. When the nurse told me to get on the scale, I had to warn her that my clothes and shoes weighed 20 pounds altogether. I doubt she believed me.

As the doctor was checking out my ears, he said that my right ear looked worse and had this gross waxy build-up inside. That was supposed to be my "good" ear. Ironically, the left ear was clear and free. WTF?! Is all I could think. He suggested I gargle with warm salt water which should clear the eustachian tube. Meanwhile, he ordered the nurse to flush my right ear out with water. I had this done many, many years ago and it isn't a pleasant experience -- especially if you don't like the feeling of water shooting through your ear with what feels like a fire hose! It took what seemed like an hour of her shooting water in my ear (it was only 5 min!), alternating cold then hot (!) to finally dislodge the waxy build up. Now my ears are free and clear. Unfortunately, I still can't hear well out of the left side and the right side feels water-logged. And, unless that ball 'o wax weighed 20 pounds, I need to desperately lose some poundage.

I know exactly what the problem is. It's my horrible diet (as my four food groups consist of salt, sugar, butter and caffeine) and lack of exercise. I know myself well enough to know that I'm not about to go a strict exercise regiment nor am I going to exclusively nibble on bunny food until I drop 20. I'm not one for aerobics and I can't stand the smell of the inside of a gym (makes me gag - ugh!). I do have an exercise ball that I use as a chair. Granted I'd need to do just a little more exercising with it, but it's a start and it's good for my back. I used to be so good at exercising and controlling my appetite until the past year or so. I used to do 200 sit ups a day and eat no more than one complete meal.

A year and 30 pounds later, I feel and look like a blob. I'm tempted to try those diet pills shilled on tv but I know those are bogus. For the time being, I'm going to try the Special K two-week diet...again. I tried it once but didn't get past the first week. Maybe a jump-start is what I need to keep me motivated. Or wiring my mouth shut. Only the scale will tell...

a "model" figure?

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QotD: It's Like Riding A Bike

nobody@vox.com(Maraschino) — Wed, 31 Jan 2007 18:43:37 -0800

Who taught you how to ride a bike?

My dad.

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Famous Last Words

nobody@vox.com(Maraschino) — Tue, 30 Jan 2007 21:12:47 -0800

Ok, because people know I'm a sucker for these, they keep sending them. However, I only pass along the good ones and I memorialize the classic ones like the following...

NEW OFFICE POLICIES

Dress Code:

* You are advised to come to work dressed according to your
salary. If we see you wearing Prada shoes and carrying a Gucci bag, we
will assume you are doing well financially and therefore do not need a
raise.
* If you dress poorly, you need to learn to manage your money
better, so that you may buy nicer clothes, and therefore you do not need
a raise.
* If you dress just right, you are right where you need to be and
therefore you do not need a raise.

Sick Days:

* We will no longer accept a doctor's statement as proof of
sickness. If you are able to go to the doctor; you are able to come to
work.

Personal Days:

* Each employee will receive 104 personal days a year. They are
called Saturdays Sundays.

Bereavement Leave:

* This is no excuse for missing work. There is nothing you can do
for dead friends, relatives or coworkers. Every effort should be made
to have non-employees attend the funeral arrangements. In rare cases
where employee involvement is necessary, the funeral should be scheduled
in the late afternoon. We will be glad to allow you to work through
your lunch hour and subsequently leave one hour early.

Bathroom Breaks:

* Entirely too much time is being spent in the toilet. There is
now a strict three-minute time limit in the stalls. At the end of three
minutes, an alarm will sound, the toilet paper roll will retract, the
stall door will open, and a picture will be taken.
* After your second offense, your picture will be posted oil the
company bulletin board under The "Chronic Offenders" category. Anyone
caught smiling in the picture will be sectioned under the company's
mental health policy.

Lunch Break:

* Skinny people get 30 minutes for lunch; as they need to eat
more, so that they can look healthy.
* Normal size people get 15 minutes for lunch to get a balanced
rneal to maintain their average figure.
* Chubby people get 5 minutes for lunch, because that's all the
time needed to drink a Slim-fast.

**Thank you for your loyalty to our company. We are here to provide a
positive employment experience. Therefore, all questions, comments,
concerns, complaints; frustrations, irritations; aggravations,
insinuations, allegations, accusations, contemplations, consternation
and input should be directed elsewhere.

The Management.

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QotD: Take That, Writer's Block!

nobody@vox.com(Maraschino) — Mon, 29 Jan 2007 13:46:20 -0800

How do you beat writer's block?
Submitted by marvel is my pen name.

With a cane and within an inch of its life!!!

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QotD: Beam Me Up

nobody@vox.com(Maraschino) — Wed, 24 Jan 2007 09:36:25 -0800

If you could make a magic wish for a futuristic gadget or high-tech innovation, what would your item do?
Submitted by Red Pen.

This is actually my son's idea, but it would be a teleporter. Beam me up, Scotty!

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Vox Hunt: Big Screen Smooch

nobody@vox.com(Maraschino) — Tue, 23 Jan 2007 21:46:23 -0800

Video: Show us your favorite on-screen kiss.
Submitted by sami711.

Kiss!

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Lend Me Some Sugar; I am Your Neighbor

nobody@vox.com(Maraschino) — Tue, 23 Jan 2007 21:11:14 -0800

So I come home from work and notice that my neighbor's car is in the carport and the door is wide open. I thought she might be at the mailbox, or getting something out of the car. I walked slowly to the mailbox, retrieved my year's quota of junk mail and walked slowly back in hopes I'd catch up with her. There's her car, with the driver-side door still wide open. I walked up to my house and noticed there were lights on in her house across the way. I put my stuff down, went back outside and walked back to the carport to see if she may have fainted or otherwise be incapacitated in her car somehow. No sign of anybody in or around the car. Hmmm...curiouser and curiouser. I then decided to knock on her door to see if she's alright. I heard a voice as I approached the door, so I knew she was home. She was on the phone. I proceeded to ring the door bell. No answer. I knocked. No answer. I rang the bell again. Still no answer. I knock some more. No answer. At this point, I was getting kind of annoyed because I was trying to be a good neighbor and checking on her to see if everything was ok. I know she was home because I could hear her voice and knew she couldn't be pretending to not be home because she wasn't even trying to talk quietly. And despite being on the phone, wouldn't she be curious as to who's pounding on her door and why?! I know I would! At this point, I also started to call her name as I was knocking. I know even if I wasn't answering the door because I didn't want to, and I heard someone on the other side calling my name, I would know this person knows me and must be pounding on my door for a reason.

But not my dear neighbor. She was yakking away as if I wasn't standing outside her front door yelling, "S t e l l a!! S t e l l a!!" Ok, so her name isn't Stella, but you get the picture. At this point, I figured, she can't be in any "trouble" if her yammering phone call was more important than whatever reason her loony neighbor may have to be pounding on her door. I figured, she's alright. I went to her car, shut the door, went home and called it a day.

Yes, this is the same neighbor who, just a few weeks ago, nearly burned down her house by having a clogged chimney flue.

So much for the good neighbor policy.

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QotD: Send For Help! Or Not...

nobody@vox.com(Maraschino) — Tue, 23 Jan 2007 20:43:50 -0800

You're trapped in a (temporarily) out of order elevator - who would you like to be trapped with?
Submitted by tbtissimus.

If I told you, I'd have to kill you...besides, I'd be so dumbstruck I'm sure I'd make an ass out of myself and never want to be seen in public again (y'all should be so lucky).

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Customer Disservice

nobody@vox.com(Maraschino) — Tue, 23 Jan 2007 00:11:59 -0800

So I went to Tarjay the other day to buy some kitty litter on sale, and lo and behold, they were out. I picked up the handy-dandy red phone and summoned a "team member" to come and assist me. Of course it's my luck that I get the rookiest of rookies. I explained to him that I wanted to purchase some kitty litter and noticed that it was all out. I asked if there happened to be any in the back, where things mysteriously appear. He looked puzzled and whipped out his little electronic black box of knowledge, punched in some numbers, scanned a bar code and buzzed someone on the walkie-talkie. He looked at the electronic black box of knowledge and proceeded to tell me they had some at the wherehouse, but he didn't know if there would be a shipment over the weekend, or wait until Monday. At this point, I was starting to get perturbed only because the non-rookie team members I've dealt with in the past just went in the back room and came out with tons of kitty litter with which they promptly restocked the shelves. Sensing my dissatisfaction, he pointed out to me (illustrated by literally pointing at his badge) that he was a team member "In Training." Unmoved by that weak attempt at sympathy, I blurted out in my snarktastic way, "I can tell." I then explained to him that in the past, "team members" were able to go in the little back room and miraculously find extra inventory OR offer me a rain check. That seemed to spark something in his head and he excused himself saying he'd be right back. Ten minutes later, he comes back with a great discovery...he could offer me a rain check by submitting my name into his little black box of knowledge so that when I call to see if their shipment has arrived, there will be my order waiting for me. Except, this isn't so convenient. What happened to giving me a piece of paper saying I get my purchase at the advertised cost at a time they get new inventory? I didn't have the energy to reason with him anymore so I said thank you and left...to find someone else who could help me. I ran into a non-rookie team member and asked him whether or not they offered rain checks anymore and he said they did so I explained to him what happened (not wanting to get rookie-trainee in trouble, I didn't name names). I got my handy little rain check and went happily on my way.

Scene two. I just came from the dentist. I never had an aversion to the dentist (because my mother used to be one), but now I know why people hate to go. I had a procedure to fill the gaps between certain teeth and the gumline. And, it wasn't by my usual dentist...he had some crony do the procedure because it was his area of expertise, or something (emphasis on something). First, he explained to me he was going to numb my jaw. I then asked if I was going to need an injection and much to my dismay, he said yes. I had this procedure done years ago and I don't remember being injected with anesthesia. I really hate the needle going into my mouth and getting shot process and seriously wouldn't have signed up for this had I known this was going to happen. He injected me excessively, I thought. One in each quadrant of my mouth. Just what the eff was he going to do to me?! I was white-knuckling it the whole time. The doctor was a nice enough old dude, seemed very sweet. But, man, I think some continuing education or refresher courses might be in order! He worked on my right side...a little uncomfortable, but doable. Then, the left side...just before he started, I felt the anesthesia wearing off. I was debating at this point whether to endure another painful injection or put up with the unanesthetized procedure. I decided against the injection. It felt like he was pounding cold razor blades between my teeth and gums...I had no idea what he was really doing. I couldn't wait until it was over. I felt everything...my teeth were sensitive at this point especially as they were blowing cold air on it, streaming cold water over it, whirring some drill-like machine around it, just all-around torturing me. By the time he was done, the anesthesia on my left side completely wore off. The right side felt like it was swollen as a result of getting punched in the face.

The least they could have done was give me a heaping prescription for Vicodan to help ease the pain...

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Workplace, Redefined

nobody@vox.com(Maraschino) — Sat, 20 Jan 2007 17:25:52 -0800

Just got this in an email today and it couldn't have come at a better time! (Some new, some classic...)

NEW WORDS FOR 2007 :

Essential vocabulary additions for the workplace (and elsewhere)!!!
1. BLAMESTORMING : Sitting around in a group, discussing why a deadline was missed or a project failed, and who was responsible.

2. SEAGULL MANAGER: A manager, who flies in, makes a lot of noise, craps on everything, and then leaves.

3. ASSMOSIS: The process by which some people seem to absorb success and advancement by kissing up to the boss rather than working hard

4. SALMON DAY : The experience of spending an entire day swimming upstream only to get screwed and die in the end.

5. CUBE FARM : An office filled with cubicles.

6. PRAIRIE DOGGING : When someone yells or drops something loudly in a cube farm, and people's heads pop up over the walls to see what's going on.

7. MOUSE POTATO : The on-line, wired generation's answer to the couch potato.

8. SITCOMs: Single Income, Two Children, Oppressive Mortgage. What Yuppies get into when they have children and one of them stops working to stay home with the kids.

9. STRESS PUPPY : A person who seems to thrive on being stressed out and whiny.

10. SWIPEOUT: An ATM or credit card that has been rendered useless because magnetic strip is worn away from extensive use.

11. XEROX SUBSIDY : Euphemism for swiping free photocopies from one's workplace.

12. IRRITAINMENT: Entertainment and media spectacles that are Annoying but you find yourself unable to stop watching them.

13. PERCUSSIVE MAINTENANCE : The fine art of whacking the crap out of an electronic device to get it to work again. Often feel like doing this to my computer------

14. ADMINISPHERE : The rarefied organizational layers beginning just above the rank and file. Decisions that fall from the adminisphere are often profoundly inappropriate or irrelevant to the problems they were designed to solve.

15. 404 : Someone who's clueless. From the World Wide Web error Message "404 Not Found," meaning that the requested site could not be located.

16. GENERICA : Features of the American landscape that are exactly the same no matter where one is, such as fast food joints, strip malls, and subdivisions.

17. OHNOSECOND : That minuscule fraction of time in which you realize that you've just made a BIG mistake. (Like after hitting send on an email by mistake).

18. WOOFS : Well-Off Older Folks.

19. CROP DUSTING : Surreptitiously passing gas while passing through a Cube Farm.

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