anogete: (Default)
( May. 12th, 2009 09:47 pm)
To the stupid little boys who live in the building next to me:
I gleefully watched you move your crap out of your apartment and into the back of your pickup truck this evening after work. So glad to see you moving. I'm the one responsible for kicking up the fuss that put the final nail in your coffin. Good luck finding another apartment because your rental history is currently worth shit.
No love, me.

I got a raise today. Yay for that. She's actually giving me $100 more a week, which amounts to about $2.00 more an hour, give or take. I'm on salary, so I think of it in weekly terms. Looking forward to the extra monies. I'm slightly disappointed there has not been some sort of major payroll crisis since I took over. Things are plodding along, and I'm not even all that busy. The new-to-me office can be seen in this picture and this picture, which also features my tea cart by the bookshelf. The drab carpet and terrible wallpaper are an annoyance, but I can live with them.
anogete: (Default)


( May. 8th, 2009 09:22 pm)
work talk )

If you're looking for homemade treats for your doggie, then I highly recommend Tail Waggin' Temptations. I met the couple that make these treats at the Quixote Humane Easter Parade a few weeks ago and bought a small container of treats from them. Ferguson isn't much for dog bones, but he is in love with their peanut butter heart treats. I just ordered another box off their website, and it arrived a couple days later.

Glengarry Glen Ross is one of my favorite films. I'm such a fan of David Mamet's talk-y movies. Jason and I were quoting it this evening because we were watching Ed Harris in another movie. I popped on YouTube and found this:

(WARNING: Lotsa lota cursing and foul language in the clip below.)

There is so much great dialogue in this film that I could never list it all here, but one of my favorite parts is when Dave (Ed Harris' character) says, "Anybody who talks to this asshole is a fuckin' asshole." So classic. You can see it in the video above at the 1:26 mark.
I'm taking over payroll completely as of Monday next week. I've run payroll checks before, so that's not a big concern of mine. However, I'm terrified I will eff up the weekly tax deposit, 401(k) contributions, or other assorted accounting issues in the general ledger or job cost. I have a pile of notes and a series of check lists to follow when performing various tasks, but I'm familiar with a good deal of it already. It will all be okay. Positive thinking. Because of various issues, I have to move offices. I've wrangled two or three manly men from the field to come in tomorrow and move furniture for me so I can have a new (bigger!) desk and a large bookcase. In the meantime, I'm trying to teach the boss's daughter how to do my job. She's quick on the uptake, but she's nervous about doing the job herself. So, I imagine she's going to be leaning on me heavily for the next two or three weeks until she can get a couple check runs under her belt and falls into the routine of accounts payable.

And, now for something completely different. Andre 3000 will tell you about picking up women in Whole Foods, and then Lloyd will make you pass out about a minute in when he tells you, "Stop... Baby, bring that thing back."

I must have the next Black Dagger Brotherhood book. Like now. Because Rehvenge is my favorite. Why do I have to wait until Tuesday? Why can't some unsuspecting bookstore stick it out on the shelf today instead of following the rules?

I've been in a not-so-bad mood about work for the past few days. Payroll Girl found another job. She's been hitting the job search hard for about four weeks now, and finally found something on the base. I'm happy for her because she wanted out much more than I did. She's planning on giving notice this coming week. I'm questioning whether I want to give up my comfy job for another where I most likely won't have the perks I have now. Despite the drama-llama, I have it pretty damn easy. Where else can you openly play computer games and read books without getting reprimanded, you know? So, whatever... I'm still half-assing the job search.

During my hour-long walk yesterday, this happened...

What the crap? Seriously? I was just out for an hour. ::shakes fist at sun::

Also, during the walk I developed a playlist in my head of super awesome songs to take a stroll to on a nice spring day. Have a mix CD of this scrumptious songs...

spring strolling )

Many of the songs are quite rhythmic, which I find excellent for walking. Stick them on your favorite MP3 player and strut down the streets of your neighborhood. Just remember to wear sunscreen.
A co-worker of mine is investigating a few positions on a potential research team. Apparently, an acquaintance of hers is married to a gentleman who has just begun his own company and is attempting to gain a government contract for some sort of scientific research. She was unable to say what sort of research. At any rate, if he gets the five-year contract, he will need a staff of sixty people--scientists and research assistants to keep material organized. The contract will be awarded at the end of the month. If it is awarded to him (instead of Lockheed Martin), there is a chance I could slip in there as a research assistant to one of the scientists. I've heard the pay is stellar. Which would be so nice. But I'm not counting my chickens before they hatch and all. There are a great deal of ifs involved in this situation.

This makes me laugh each time I see it...

qi fun )

The new guy was not ready for my ire this morning. The daily newspaper had done an article on a popular member of Twitter. As I was pouring my morning liter of water he walked into the room and I said, "I fucking hate Twitter." He asked why, and I responded, "It's just another indication of the waning attention span of this society." He nodded slowly and backed out of the room. No offense to any of you who may use Twitter. I just can't use it myself, and I don't read any 'tweets' because the one sentence thing isn't my favorite method of communication. I'm not big on text messaging either. I was just feeling especially grouchy this morning. And no one reads books any longer.

Also, this is a graph of my happiness during the day:

wheee! )
What the hell? I want to move to an island and start my own country of people who like to stay out of others people's business. Why are politicians so nosy? Why are they so stupid? Why are they so power-hungry? It's disgusting. I feel like our government is some big, bloated, hideous monster that lumbers around and steps on me (and everyone else). They almost haz our interwebs, doods. Information? You want accurate information? No, no, no. You can only have the information the government deems necessary for you, especially in a time of upheaval. Act like good little citizens and do what the government says.

Speaking of government hate, Jason has angst over his income taxes. I tried to help him with them, but they've got quite complicated since he sold some mutual funds last year and moved all his investments from one company to another. Basically, it's a clusterfuck. So, I talked him into going to the H&R Block office down the street from our apartment. They have all his info now, and he has an appointment with the woman today after work. I knew enough to know what was wrong and what I couldn't do, so I told her. And I was totally right. She suggested I take their tax professional course and go to work for H&R Block part-time. If you are one of the top students in your class, then you will receive a job offer from H&R Block and can set your own hours to some extent. The class isn't all that costly, but it is time-intensive. Nearly 70 hours. o_O It's a thought, but I don't know if I want to tackle that. Though, it would be interesting to have a more extensive knowledge of tax law, if only to help people retain more of their own money.

Work is holy-crap-boring. I have an extremely bad attitude about it right now. So bad that I've been trying to invent excuses to skip work or leave early. And now is not the time to do that since the boss is in a fragile state. She could snap and start firing people any minute. Yikes.

The last of the knitted hats by moi are going out in the mail today. I hope everyone likes their hats even if it is kind-of-sort-of Spring and getting too hot for them.

I am in such a bad mood today. I should probably just go home and go back to sleep. Oh yeah, I have to work. Sucks.
It's a damn good thing the office is closed on Friday because I'm close to losing my mind. I have such resentment toward my co-workers, and I have no idea where it came from. Weekends are not long enough.

I found my copy of Bat Out of Hell tonight. I remember when I was in elementary school, they were giving away a copy of Bat Out of Hell II at the school's carnival. The parents threw a tantrum because they believed it to be a horrible, devilish, explicit piece of trash. Being twelve, I believed them. Fifteen years later and Jim Steinman (the songwriter for those two albums) is one of my favorites. He can be heard performing the male half of the spoken word bit at the beginning of this song:

That intro always gets me. I love it far too much. Jim, why are you such a genius? And why did the English version of Tanz der Vampire get so effed up? You deserve better. And I deserve to see the damn musical without traveling to Germany or Japan.
omg--i hates the work )

Maybe my fangirly lurv of Rorschach has infected me with absolutist tendencies and a need to viciously defend my own personal morality. This would include throwing people down elevator shafts, which I might do if there were any in this building. Look...

Gah. He's ripping a piece of cloth. Oh, Walter. Why so hot? Why so hot even with a nasty bruise covering your cheek?

ramblings on rorschach's sexuality )
anogete: (fantastic planet)
( Mar. 13th, 2009 07:13 pm)
Hey, if any of you need inspiration for writing smutty-smut, then you could always think about how to get one of the characters to remove his/her clothing in less than seven seconds like this Japanese fellow...

oooh, stripper )

That's skillz, man.

Work was craptacular today. I ended up with a dust mask and gloves on, shifting through old company records from the 1980s and 1990s. All of it had been stored in a building off-site, and that building had been invaded by rats and other assorted furry creatures with diseases. We're sending most of it away to be shredded, but someone had to sift through it all and pull out the things that should to be kept. I felt like I needed two showers when I got home.
Day In The Life - on Saturday March 7, 2009, you carry around a digital camera with you and take pictures of your day. It's not necessary to take pictures of yourself, just your surroundings, if you'd like. Whether it be your everyday routines, or something out of the ordinary, we just want to see your world! Then, you post an entry in your journal the next day with all the pictures posted in order. Remember the date and join the fun!

I've done this at least once before, though I don't remember what year or day I participated. At any rate, it was great fun! Everyone should play this year. Just remember to tote along your camera on Saturday.

Work is... weird. I'm not quite sure what is going on, but something is afoot. And, chances are, it isn't good. I've heard mumblings of things to come, but they don't completely jive with what I've seen myself. I don't know... I'm not going to jump to any rash conclusions until I have a bit more information.
anogete: (msr)
( Mar. 2nd, 2009 05:11 pm)
I took the day off just because I could. None of my co-workers called me, so I suppose the office didn't blow up without me. Jason also took the day off. We went shopping for used books, ate lunch on the patio of my favorite sandwich place, and took Ferguson to the park on our way home. My condolences go out to everyone who is covered in snow. It's sunny and 75 degrees here. I love it.

Because I had extra time to play around in the kitchen today, I made dessert. Jason's inordinately excited about the prospect of eating pudding.

grasshopper parfaits - pictures and recipe behind the cut )

I don't have twelve dessert glasses, so I just made the two and left the other ingredients in the separate bowls in the fridge for later use. I had to buy an entire pack of Oreos to make the damn things, so now I'm going to have to find a non-wasteful way of getting rid of the rest of the package without eating them myself. I do not need Oreo cookies. I do not need Oreo cookies.
anogete: (havoc)
( Feb. 26th, 2009 03:35 pm)

So, I've been dealing with these movie studio people who are filming in Albuquerque. We're doing some work for them on a movie that is currently in the works--just miscellaneous stuff that involves demolition and keeping the road wet so the dust doesn't blow during filming. Anyway, I'm dealing with their AP people so we can get paid. The movie has been referenced on all the e-mails I've exchanged with their people, but it wasn't familiar, and I didn't bother looking it up. UNTIL NOW.

The movie is called The Book of Eli. Gary Oldman is in it. OMFG. I had no idea we were working on a movie that Gary Oldman is staring in. I had no idea Gary Oldman is a few minutes away from me. And Denzel Washington. Denzel, I love you. I helped make the roads less dusty as you traverse them in this most awesome of post-apocalyptic westerns. Yes. You heard me. It's a post-apocalyptic western with Denzel Washington and Gary Oldman.

EDIT: Oh, holy crap. Ray Stevenson is in it, too. He was Pullo, the best thing about the monstrosity that was Rome. And terribly freakin' attractive, at that.

I probably need to go down to the job site and monitor things, make sure our guys are running things smoothly and filling out all paperwork appropriately.
I love buying organic, and I try to use organic products as much as I can. Organic soaps, lotions, shampoos, hair conditioners, household cleaners, fruits, vegetables, food in general, etc. I've learned where to draw the line, though. The line? Organic deodorant. Simply put, it doesn't work. Learned that today. Eww.

My A Song of Ice and Fire calendar had been delivered to the apartment office when I got home yesterday. OMG--I lurv all the pretty pictures. And, and, and, there is one of Sandor! I fangirl Sandor Clegane like whoa. Actually, I also fangirl Sandor/Sansa. It's my M.O. (older--tortured--man/younger woman), so what am I gonna do, you know. Also, Jon Snow, why are you so freakin' hawt?

You know that song by Outkast? Roses? Greg Dulli covered it on the DVD I have of a Twilight Singers concert. I know you like to think your shit don't stick, but lean a little bit closer. See, roses really smell like boo-boo. They jam and Greg charms the audience for a little over a minute before the song proper begins.

Holy crap, will this audit ever end? I want to throw writing implements against the walls of my office. Also, the auditor's assistant came in wearing a plaid cape this morning. Part of me wants to like it, but another part of me is wondering why she's wearing a cape. Jason's mom told me capes are "totally in" right now, but I'm just not seeing it. Really?
anogete: (kill a stark)
( Feb. 16th, 2009 11:04 pm)
Well, crap. I forgot our annual audit at work is tomorrow. I haven't done a single thing to prepare for it, which means I'll be slogging through musty boxes of bank statements and canceled checks for most of the morning. Eff this.

Jason and I started watching the recent episodes of Doctor Who, beginning with the ninth Doctor.

Brent Weeks, you slay me! You kill two of my favorite characters? Tell me people are resurrected in your novels or I might cry. And you twist the knife by making characters I like kill other characters I like. Damn you. I'm avoiding spilling names because I don't know if anyone reading my blog might want to crack open Brent Weeks's The Night Angel Trilogy. I mentioned it a few weeks back when I saw the super shiny covers in the bookstore and had to get them since I :heart: assassins. Well, in these books, they aren't really assassins; they're wetboys. A wetboy is an extremely skilled assassin; they're the fellows you'd send to kill an assassin. At any rate, the books are fantastically wonderful, and I'm current devouring the second novel in the series.

Because I loved Lil' Wayne's "A Milli", it should come as no surprise that I also love Beyonce's "Diva". Although, I do prefer the dance done Trois Style. The one in the tutu is my favorite. And just like everyone and their mother, they've also done their rendition of "Single Ladies", complete with what appear to be devil horns. For a more faithful and technically superior knockoff of "Single Ladies", you can check out this fellow's video. He's very good!
Jason was hanging around the kitchen yesterday after work while I was making dinner. He had went to his therapy session earlier in the day and obviously wanted to talk about it, so I asked him how it went. He said, "I drew a picture of you like the one I drew at my grandmother's house." Before Christmas, we were at his paternal grandmother's house and, out of boredom, he drew a picture of me looking angry and petulant. We both laughed about it because it actually looked rather accurate. Anyway, I laughed at him and called his bluff, saying that he most certainly did not draw another picture of me like that. Jason isn't the type to go for therapy of that nature, especially since he isn't an artist by any stretch of the imagination. He admitted that he had not drawn any pictures, but that he had spoken of me to his therapist. I didn't ask any follow up questions because anything he said, even if it was about me, isn't really my business. After a couple beats of silence, he grabbed me from behind and kissed me, then said that everything he told his therapist about me was positive. Then he ambled off to the music room to check his e-mail. It was a pleasant surprise, not what I was expecting. We get along very well, but I know I'm not the easiest person to live with. It's nice to know I'm appreciated. He was very lovey-dovey this morning, too. Usually, mornings consist of avoiding each other as much as possible and conversations carried by grunts and snorts. A kiss good morning is absolutely unheard of unless it's a weekend. Maybe the therapy thing is helping him more than I thought it would.

I half-heartedly worked on the paperwork for a bid yesterday at work. We submitted it in the early afternoon and found out minutes later that we have been awarded the project. The first project we've managed to snag in months. Even though it is a small one--only $400,000--it's still a step in the right direction. We really need to acquire more work if we want to avoid laying anyone off. It's a miracle that hasn't happened yet.

Jason and I have been watching Wolf's Rain, but I just can't seem to get into the flow of the show. I suppose this is because I don't particularly care about any of the characters and the entire presentation comes across as too kiddish--like I should be watching it at 3:00 in the afternoon on Cartoon Network. And I'm not into that sort of anime.

Holy crap, it's Friday, the 13th, you guys.

I've been tempted many a time in the past two weeks to write scathing comments about our government and the course they have decided to put our country on, but I've resisted. It would just end up being a rant of epic proportions in which nothing is resolved or changed. I fear for our collective future. Nineteen Eighty-Four, here we come.
anogete: (p&p)
( Feb. 4th, 2009 02:02 pm)
hmmm )
anogete: (finger)
( Feb. 3rd, 2009 07:16 pm)
I am fairly sure my current mood was derived from multiple sources, the foremost being my three-hour romp at the Motor Vehicle Department during two different instances today. However, the role of severe PMS cannot be discounted as another major contributing factor.

oh god, the bitching )

I'm an idiot. And I hate PMS. I also hate: the MVD, everyone who left me a voice mail message at work, half of my co-workers, the fact that I didn't work out today, my vagina, razor burn, leg hair, work in general, mildew in the shower, the world.

EDIT: And to top all this off... I sent my mother some of the pictures I had taken at the park--the ones I posted here last week. I linked each picture in my Photobucket separately instead of giving her the address of my Photobucket account. My mother was whining to my brother about having to click on each picture separately, and my effin' brother showed her how to modify the URL to access my Photobucket. Dammit! Traitor! Now my mother has access to all my weirdness, which includes all the pictures of fictional characters I go goo-goo over and possibly other embarrassing pictures I wouldn't necessarily want her to see because they may or may not be offensive. In the grand scheme of things, not a big deal. I'm not going to die of embarrassment anytime soon. But is nothing sacred, little brother? Can't your big sis have her fandom fun without you showing mom all her dirty little online sekrets? I didn't tell her about the anime porn you downloaded years ago. Not even the tentacle porn you had on the family computer.
I'm exhausted, and I'm going to crash on the floor of my office if I don't get out of here soon. Stress is rebounding off the walls of this building, and I can't seem to dodge it. This entire week has been trying, but today was especially so. We've been bidding work left and right, without anything to show for it due to the current climate of the construction industry. I just spent the entire morning hunched over a typewriter filling out government paperwork and transcribing thousands of prices. My usual workload was pushed aside until this afternoon, which means I had to work twice as hard to get it completed. I suppose I could shove it off until next week, but that just leads to more work on Monday, and I don't have time for that. Tomorrow doesn't look much better than today, unfortunately.

And, you know, my entire day is made worse by the fact that I finished A Game of Thrones last night. I loved it, but I'm super duper depressed because I hate when characters I've grown to love die. I'm totally bummed.

During a moment for mental health this afternoon, I read this interesting article on work place sexual harassment. Specifically, sexual harassment directed at men from their female superiors and other women in the office. Working in a construction company, the sexual harassment from men is bound to happen, though I've never experienced it done in front of me while I was in the room. I have heard tale of certain individuals making comments about me or one of the other three women in this office, but it is never done in a harassing or insulting manner; it's usually meant as a complement. Then again, the crude things probably never get back to any of us girls because the boys know better. Has anyone experienced this in their job(s)?
+ I love the butternut squash ravioli Lean Cuisine with the veggies. Love it. I need to figure out how to make this myself without spending an obscene amount of money on these tiny frozen meals.

+ Pepperidge Farm Sausalito cookies will be the death of me. Why are they so delicious? Why?!?!

+ Jason is still having trouble sleeping. Therefore, I am still having trouble sleeping. He, of course, has taken the day off work to catch up on his sleep. I don't have the luxury since a bid of epic proportions is going out this afternoon, and no one else knows how to put it together.

+ Work is a writhing mass of stupid. I'm attempting to get the company's insurance coverage and payments sorted out, and everyone before me has made a mess of it without taking notes. I feel like I've been handed a wad of knotted yarn. No matter how hard I try, I can't get it untangled.

+ My co-workers are competing for the title of Most Injured Office Employee this week. Everyone in here has some sort of problem from potentially broken ribs to the glands under their tongues being swollen. Me? My calves are just sore from my exuberant use of the incline function on the treadmill.

+ Instead of reading last night, I watched the fifth and sixth episodes of this past series of Spooks. Richard Armitage, why do you have to be as delicious as a Pepperidge Farm Sausalito cookie? I swoon even when you're telling me children's bedtime stories.


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