OH MY GOD whoever that anon commenter was the other day who pointed me to this link is my NEW BEST FRIEND:
http://www.howtogeek.com/howto/3210/drown-out-that-annoying-co-worker-without-hurting-your-ears/
Through that link I found Simply Noise and I SWEAR TO YOU, Internet, I'm a whole new woman. It's magical how it drowns out alllll the snorts and snot sucking and grunting and coughing and isn't distracting AT ALL.
The downside is that without my protective bubble of white noise (actually, I like the brown noise at 40%) my irritation level SKY ROCKETS. I was on a conference call with a mouth breather so I had that in one ear and the grunter in the other ear and I think I might have a little bit of a problem because I was craaazy cranky and I felt like a junkie twitching for her next hit.
I'm afraid to take my ear buds out and face the real world!
But WITH my protective bubble of white (brown) noise?
Oh my goodness.
I can't stop working because now all of a sudden I am focused and give a crap about the Quote to Cash process!
YAY!
Anyhooters, thanks a million Anon.
Friday, August 14, 2009
My, your buns are warm in the morning!
I am 33 today.
My grandfather used to flip the numbers in his age. Only if it suited him, of course, but since he died at 100, his nineties were easy targets for his tricks. 98th birthday? No siree, 89th!
So today I'm 33, which means I've thought of Boppa many times today because if he were alive he'd tell me that 33 doesn't do me any good because I'm 33 either way. Of course, the next several years won't be useful either...34/43, etc.
But anyway, I'm thinking of Boppa today.
Speaking of, Boppa's death taught me that when people die, they don't actually disappear. This is all very kumbaya of me, I know, but we still actively remember and talk about him and really, it's like he's still here.
Jeeeeze, Elizabeth. Happy Birthday, let's talk about your dead grandfather.
Moving on...
So it's my birthday and I'm now eight days away from moving out of San Francisco, so what better excuse to have one last morning bun from Tartine for breakfast?
I've never really been a breakfast breads person (I'm more the BRING ON THE SAUSAGE type) but I had one of those there morning buns a few months ago because they're on the list of things to try in San Francisco before you die and BOY HOWDY, it was delicious. So delicious, in fact, that I believe I posted a picture of it here.
Yes, in fact, I did:
It's a good thing it's such a PAIN IN THE ASS to park over by Tartine because otherwise I'd be over there every day eating pressed sandwiches, olive bread, tarts and morning buns.
But today is my birthday so I put forth the effort and got there right when they opened and DO YOU KNOW WHAT MAGIC EXISTS IN THE WORLD RIGHT WHEN THE BAKERY OPENS?
WARM morning buns!
Holy crap, it was delicious but holy crap, I'm not used to eating warm, sugary, buttery bread products so early in the morning and now I feel kinda gross, so I'm trying to flush it out with lots of water and no more coffee.
The middle part of my birthday will be spent deciphering a bunch of work stuff that I'm SO UNQUALIFIED to be responsible for, but have somehow been put in charge of.
It'll be a laugh riot.
Then tonight I'm going to dinner with the family, but it'll be an early night because tomorrow I will embark on Operation: Pack My Kitchen. I might also work on Operation: Drink the Rest of the Beer. TBD.
My grandfather used to flip the numbers in his age. Only if it suited him, of course, but since he died at 100, his nineties were easy targets for his tricks. 98th birthday? No siree, 89th!
So today I'm 33, which means I've thought of Boppa many times today because if he were alive he'd tell me that 33 doesn't do me any good because I'm 33 either way. Of course, the next several years won't be useful either...34/43, etc.
But anyway, I'm thinking of Boppa today.
Speaking of, Boppa's death taught me that when people die, they don't actually disappear. This is all very kumbaya of me, I know, but we still actively remember and talk about him and really, it's like he's still here.
Jeeeeze, Elizabeth. Happy Birthday, let's talk about your dead grandfather.
Moving on...
So it's my birthday and I'm now eight days away from moving out of San Francisco, so what better excuse to have one last morning bun from Tartine for breakfast?
I've never really been a breakfast breads person (I'm more the BRING ON THE SAUSAGE type) but I had one of those there morning buns a few months ago because they're on the list of things to try in San Francisco before you die and BOY HOWDY, it was delicious. So delicious, in fact, that I believe I posted a picture of it here.
Yes, in fact, I did:
It's a good thing it's such a PAIN IN THE ASS to park over by Tartine because otherwise I'd be over there every day eating pressed sandwiches, olive bread, tarts and morning buns.
But today is my birthday so I put forth the effort and got there right when they opened and DO YOU KNOW WHAT MAGIC EXISTS IN THE WORLD RIGHT WHEN THE BAKERY OPENS?
WARM morning buns!
Holy crap, it was delicious but holy crap, I'm not used to eating warm, sugary, buttery bread products so early in the morning and now I feel kinda gross, so I'm trying to flush it out with lots of water and no more coffee.
The middle part of my birthday will be spent deciphering a bunch of work stuff that I'm SO UNQUALIFIED to be responsible for, but have somehow been put in charge of.
It'll be a laugh riot.
Then tonight I'm going to dinner with the family, but it'll be an early night because tomorrow I will embark on Operation: Pack My Kitchen. I might also work on Operation: Drink the Rest of the Beer. TBD.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
I think I dodged a bullet.
I went on a job interview last week. I was really excited about it because it was my dream job (if I HAVE to work, that is) but I had some reservations because it was a global role for a company that is significantly larger than the huge company I already work for. If I had my druthers, I'd prefer something smaller (more direct impact) and domestic (YOU try scheduling conference calls with France and Singapore), but I'd also prefer to quit contracting (the benefits and the uncertainty suck) so if I got it I'd be thrilled for the opportunity.
My friend Dave, a man I respect very much and who is crazy smart in the world of the biz-nass, told me that when I look at a job description, I should totally have 1/3 of the required skills, be able to pretty much figure out 1/3 of the required skills, and that the last 1/3 should be stuff I'd have to stretch in order to figure out. I'm sure recruiters and hiring managers of the world might disagree, but Dave was looking at it from the personal and career development perspectives and I'm on board with that, so the 1/3 of this particular job that would have been a stretch didn't scare me.
I had three phone interviews with remote team members and nailed them all and then I had three in-person interviews last week. I was feeling very confident about the first two and everyone told me GLOWING things about the Director (to whom this position reports) and I was excited to knock her socks off during my third in-person interview.
Except then I fell flat on my face.
We didn't have a great rapport, which was a huge red flag because I can talk to just about anyone, but to make things worse, she asked me questions that, in retrospect, were kind of unfair. More specifically, I think they were trick questions. What I should have done was answered them in a "Defining exactly what an engaged employee looks like is very specific to the project, the organization, the company..." kind of way instead of trying to figure out what I thought an engaged employee at this particular company might look like because there's a 0% chance that I'd be able to guess.d
Blah blah blah, but I missed the boat on this question. I should have explained how I'd propose we go about defining it instead of trying to define it on the fly.
And boy howdy, I could tell the moment I screwed it up and my immediate instinct was to just get up and leave right then and there, but maybe I could salvage it? Except in order to salvage it, I needed to have a rapport with this lady and I just really DID NOT.
I left the interview totally knowing I wasn't going to get this job and I was really bummed about it for like 15 minutes and wishing I could have a do-over. Ultimately, I managed to talk myself into being okay with it and when I got my rejection e-mail yesterday I just deleted it and was appreciative that I had already mourned and recovered.
Kind of like when you're already OVER a man and by the time he finally gets around to saying "I'm just not that into you" you're like "Yeah, whatever Molasses...I cared a week ago but today I think you probably shouldn't let the door hit you on the ass."
Bonus Story:
One of the chicks who interviewed me told me that she just moved to San Francisco from Oregon and:
1. She just bought an apartment in The Infinity and told me that they've only sold like 20 units so far so she has the entire 31st floor to herself. She asked my opinion on buying a couch and dining table for her balcony and is the fall in SF really as nice as people say because at this point, she can't imagine having dinner parties out there with the weather as it has been? I suggested that she bite the bullet and go for it because even if she just has cocktail hour outside, it'll be worth it and if it's too cold, the dinners themselves could be held inside. Plus, just for kicks, why not buy a heat lamp too?
She thought I was very smart. Obvs, duh.
2. Her Oregon friends said that she couldn't wear her leather coat here and I was like "Uhh, I don't think the hippies are really going to give you trouble for a leather coat" and then she was like "Well, what if it has a fur collar and fur cuffs?" I didn't know what to tell her about that but lucky for me, she switched the subject to announce that "You know, living in California is like living in a foreign country, what with all that SPANISH that people are speaking." And then she rolled her eyes to accentuate her point.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
Wow.
Instead of telling her that YOU DO REALIZE THAT CALIFORNIA IS NEXT TO MEXICO AND, IN FACT, USED TO BE PART OF MEXICO, RIGHT? I was like "Well I'm a native so I guess I don't notice it, hey, I really like your necklace."
This woman was in HR, by the way.
In Summary:
1. I learned a lesson.
2. I'm pleased with how I processed it all.
3. I'm glad I don't have to work with the lady who clearly has an opinion on living so close to the Mexican border.
My friend Dave, a man I respect very much and who is crazy smart in the world of the biz-nass, told me that when I look at a job description, I should totally have 1/3 of the required skills, be able to pretty much figure out 1/3 of the required skills, and that the last 1/3 should be stuff I'd have to stretch in order to figure out. I'm sure recruiters and hiring managers of the world might disagree, but Dave was looking at it from the personal and career development perspectives and I'm on board with that, so the 1/3 of this particular job that would have been a stretch didn't scare me.
I had three phone interviews with remote team members and nailed them all and then I had three in-person interviews last week. I was feeling very confident about the first two and everyone told me GLOWING things about the Director (to whom this position reports) and I was excited to knock her socks off during my third in-person interview.
Except then I fell flat on my face.
We didn't have a great rapport, which was a huge red flag because I can talk to just about anyone, but to make things worse, she asked me questions that, in retrospect, were kind of unfair. More specifically, I think they were trick questions. What I should have done was answered them in a "Defining exactly what an engaged employee looks like is very specific to the project, the organization, the company..." kind of way instead of trying to figure out what I thought an engaged employee at this particular company might look like because there's a 0% chance that I'd be able to guess.d
Blah blah blah, but I missed the boat on this question. I should have explained how I'd propose we go about defining it instead of trying to define it on the fly.
And boy howdy, I could tell the moment I screwed it up and my immediate instinct was to just get up and leave right then and there, but maybe I could salvage it? Except in order to salvage it, I needed to have a rapport with this lady and I just really DID NOT.
I left the interview totally knowing I wasn't going to get this job and I was really bummed about it for like 15 minutes and wishing I could have a do-over. Ultimately, I managed to talk myself into being okay with it and when I got my rejection e-mail yesterday I just deleted it and was appreciative that I had already mourned and recovered.
Kind of like when you're already OVER a man and by the time he finally gets around to saying "I'm just not that into you" you're like "Yeah, whatever Molasses...I cared a week ago but today I think you probably shouldn't let the door hit you on the ass."
Bonus Story:
One of the chicks who interviewed me told me that she just moved to San Francisco from Oregon and:
1. She just bought an apartment in The Infinity and told me that they've only sold like 20 units so far so she has the entire 31st floor to herself. She asked my opinion on buying a couch and dining table for her balcony and is the fall in SF really as nice as people say because at this point, she can't imagine having dinner parties out there with the weather as it has been? I suggested that she bite the bullet and go for it because even if she just has cocktail hour outside, it'll be worth it and if it's too cold, the dinners themselves could be held inside. Plus, just for kicks, why not buy a heat lamp too?
She thought I was very smart. Obvs, duh.
2. Her Oregon friends said that she couldn't wear her leather coat here and I was like "Uhh, I don't think the hippies are really going to give you trouble for a leather coat" and then she was like "Well, what if it has a fur collar and fur cuffs?" I didn't know what to tell her about that but lucky for me, she switched the subject to announce that "You know, living in California is like living in a foreign country, what with all that SPANISH that people are speaking." And then she rolled her eyes to accentuate her point.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
Wow.
Instead of telling her that YOU DO REALIZE THAT CALIFORNIA IS NEXT TO MEXICO AND, IN FACT, USED TO BE PART OF MEXICO, RIGHT? I was like "Well I'm a native so I guess I don't notice it, hey, I really like your necklace."
This woman was in HR, by the way.
In Summary:
1. I learned a lesson.
2. I'm pleased with how I processed it all.
3. I'm glad I don't have to work with the lady who clearly has an opinion on living so close to the Mexican border.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
1. I get to babysit my SWEET, WONDERFUL nephew on Monday night. GRANDMA, EAT YOUR HEART OUT!!!
2. I'm between projects at work and my main accomplishment of the day was clearing 200+ unread items from my Serious Eats queue. As a result, I bring you the #1 thing I never thought I'd eat, but that has now been cemented into the OH HELLLL NO category:
On second thought, I'm not going to post the picture here directly but instead, I'm going to make you click for it. Chicken feet always seemed horrifying, but reading about how you have to clip their toenails before you cook them really brought the horror to a whole new level.
3. Another gem from my day-o-blog-reading:
If that's not full of WTF, I don't know what is.
4. In other news:
A. We celebrated my brothers' 30th birthday on Saturday. I got Ben a gift card to his favorite frozen yogurt place (he has one, apparently) because Sarah said he'd LOVE it and I was like "Ehhhh...it's frozen yogurt...is this really 30TH BIRTHDAY WOO HOO??" Except whoa -- Sarah was right -- he just about did backflips.
You learn something new every day.
B. The guy on the other side of the cube wall could stop grunting any time now and I'd be happy.
C. I listed my apartment for rent on Craigslist and I have two people coming to look at it tomorrow night. Luckily, I don't HAVE TO get a renter RIGHT THIS MINUTE because I'm going to move this month one way or another, but I'm hoping that one of these two chicks wants it so I can wash my hands of this process.
One of them wants to move in 8/15 which puts me in a bit of a time crunch because, if you've noticed, there's only one weekend between now and 8/15 and I'll have to move on 8/14 which, CONVENIENTLY, is my birthday. No big whoop or anything except I somehow got the whole family to agree to come to SF for dinner on my birthday (a feat, let me tell you).
So we'll see. I'm working on being patient about it all, but trying to keep the place in relative order until someone commits to renting it is making me crazy because there's so much to do and I have to sit on my hands to keep from packing more boxes and creating more mess.
2. I'm between projects at work and my main accomplishment of the day was clearing 200+ unread items from my Serious Eats queue. As a result, I bring you the #1 thing I never thought I'd eat, but that has now been cemented into the OH HELLLL NO category:
On second thought, I'm not going to post the picture here directly but instead, I'm going to make you click for it. Chicken feet always seemed horrifying, but reading about how you have to clip their toenails before you cook them really brought the horror to a whole new level.
3. Another gem from my day-o-blog-reading:
If that's not full of WTF, I don't know what is.
4. In other news:
A. We celebrated my brothers' 30th birthday on Saturday. I got Ben a gift card to his favorite frozen yogurt place (he has one, apparently) because Sarah said he'd LOVE it and I was like "Ehhhh...it's frozen yogurt...is this really 30TH BIRTHDAY WOO HOO??" Except whoa -- Sarah was right -- he just about did backflips.
You learn something new every day.
B. The guy on the other side of the cube wall could stop grunting any time now and I'd be happy.
C. I listed my apartment for rent on Craigslist and I have two people coming to look at it tomorrow night. Luckily, I don't HAVE TO get a renter RIGHT THIS MINUTE because I'm going to move this month one way or another, but I'm hoping that one of these two chicks wants it so I can wash my hands of this process.
One of them wants to move in 8/15 which puts me in a bit of a time crunch because, if you've noticed, there's only one weekend between now and 8/15 and I'll have to move on 8/14 which, CONVENIENTLY, is my birthday. No big whoop or anything except I somehow got the whole family to agree to come to SF for dinner on my birthday (a feat, let me tell you).
So we'll see. I'm working on being patient about it all, but trying to keep the place in relative order until someone commits to renting it is making me crazy because there's so much to do and I have to sit on my hands to keep from packing more boxes and creating more mess.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Lavender and Pie
Okay, #1, I have to repost that video of my sweet, wonderful nephew. Not because he's doing anything but sitting there staring at the crazy lady asking him what he's doing over and over again and thinking "I'M LOOKING AT YOU, THAT'S WHAT I'M DOING, DUMMY!" but because he's just so cute I can't stand it.
But now that's out of the way, I can share the main reason for this post:
It's a "Prodigal Pen" and I don't know what that is, other than my friend Leslie was listening to me whine about the constant breakouts on my chin and claimed to know of a magical little pen thing that would clear up my spots lickety split.
I was skeptical but she brought me one a few weeks ago and OH MY GOSH INTERNET, I have to tell you:
It's awesome.
Breakout? What breakout?
GONE!
Like magic.
Like this chick whose review I found when I went Googling for more info, I only use it a couple of times a day instead of the 4-5 times a day the instructions suggest and VIOLA! Clear skin.
The onnnnly downside is that it's made up of a bunch of essential oils so it's very scented. I feel like my chin smells like lavender and pie, but this is a small price to pay for continued gorgeousness.
Unrelated:
I am currently chewing a half piece of gum I found at the bottom of my purse. I am reminded of how, when desperate for gum, I've been known to chew the gum at the bottom of Carrie's purse, which comes with free tobacco flakes stuck to it.
But now that's out of the way, I can share the main reason for this post:
It's a "Prodigal Pen" and I don't know what that is, other than my friend Leslie was listening to me whine about the constant breakouts on my chin and claimed to know of a magical little pen thing that would clear up my spots lickety split.
I was skeptical but she brought me one a few weeks ago and OH MY GOSH INTERNET, I have to tell you:
It's awesome.
Breakout? What breakout?
GONE!
Like magic.
Like this chick whose review I found when I went Googling for more info, I only use it a couple of times a day instead of the 4-5 times a day the instructions suggest and VIOLA! Clear skin.
The onnnnly downside is that it's made up of a bunch of essential oils so it's very scented. I feel like my chin smells like lavender and pie, but this is a small price to pay for continued gorgeousness.
Unrelated:
I am currently chewing a half piece of gum I found at the bottom of my purse. I am reminded of how, when desperate for gum, I've been known to chew the gum at the bottom of Carrie's purse, which comes with free tobacco flakes stuck to it.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Thunder Thighs
A few years ago I had a less-than-awesome experience at one of those laser hair removal places that involved:
1. Being told my thighs were so big that they'd need to reschedule me for more time because of how big my big, fat thighs were and PS, your thighs are huge with a side of giant.
2. Me saying UM WHATEVER GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK.
3. Them ignoring me.
4. Me calling the freaking ABC TV station and getting their consumer guy involved.
5. Them ignoring him.
6. Him getting his feathers ALL kinds of ruffled.
7. Them finally, after several months, giving me my money back and then telling me I was no longer welcome at their facility.
8. Me writing a bad Yelp review.
And for whatever reason, when a new company (BriteSmile) bought the old company (Pure MedSpa), all the old company's Yelp reviews followed the new company so the new company is understandably motivated to get those old reviews fixed up. Soooo, guess who got an e-mail from the new company asking me to contact them so they could rectify the situation and maybe I'd be so satisfied I'd be willing to rewrite and/or delete my old review?
ME!
I called the lady back today but she wasn't there so I'm interested to see what they're gonna offer me and it had better be something more exciting than a bottle of moisturizer or whatever.
1. Being told my thighs were so big that they'd need to reschedule me for more time because of how big my big, fat thighs were and PS, your thighs are huge with a side of giant.
2. Me saying UM WHATEVER GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK.
3. Them ignoring me.
4. Me calling the freaking ABC TV station and getting their consumer guy involved.
5. Them ignoring him.
6. Him getting his feathers ALL kinds of ruffled.
7. Them finally, after several months, giving me my money back and then telling me I was no longer welcome at their facility.
8. Me writing a bad Yelp review.
And for whatever reason, when a new company (BriteSmile) bought the old company (Pure MedSpa), all the old company's Yelp reviews followed the new company so the new company is understandably motivated to get those old reviews fixed up. Soooo, guess who got an e-mail from the new company asking me to contact them so they could rectify the situation and maybe I'd be so satisfied I'd be willing to rewrite and/or delete my old review?
ME!
I called the lady back today but she wasn't there so I'm interested to see what they're gonna offer me and it had better be something more exciting than a bottle of moisturizer or whatever.
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