Wednesday, November 30, 2005

googleads know what's up

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The Nap Zapper sounded so much more exciting until I read what it actually is. I thought it would, like, measure your brain waves and then give your head a big electric shock when the gammas outweighed the betas (or whatever, it's not like I was a psych major or anything.) But it just makes a loud noise when your head moves. Lame. Still, I wouldn't mind a Zapper right about now since putting numbers in a spreadsheet is making me drool and Busta Rhymes circa 2002 isn't helping as I thought it would. Off to Starbucks, since my current office doesn't even have free coffee! Oh the humanity...

Monday, November 28, 2005

poor, poor privileged me

My current temp assignment is almost as fantastic and fulfilling as the last. It's at a company where a lot of people do fun and exciting and creative things and make a lot of money and get to wear jeans. I am not one of those people.

To get to the area in which I "work," one must leave the colorful, modern lobby area through a set of doors, down a colorful and modern hall, through another set of doors, through another colorful and modern lobbyesque area, into the dingy library/archive room, all the way to the back corner and through an unmarked, locked door. This is where the finance and accounts payable magic happens. The computers are ancient and mismatched, everything is beige, and depending on which row of cubicles in which one is situated it smells strongly of cheap vanilla-scented hand lotion or stale popcorn. Everyone who works there is jovial and friendly. I am not one of those people, either.

My thought processes of today, other than "stop taking my financial reports out of the printer and putting them aside and out of order motherfuckers" can be summed up in an email I sent to E this morning:
the lady who normally uses my computer frequently visits the sites prisontalk.com and newyorkchildsupport.com and lovefellowship.com and she seemed chipper when she logged me onto the internet. if she can be happy with a babydaddy in prison, why can't i goddamnit??

Judging by the inspirational Bible quotes lining the walls of the young lady's cubicle, the answer, clearly, is Jesus. But I think I'm going to try the psychotropic medication method first. And perhaps, like, getting a job that doesn't totally blow chunks. (Yes, I have been saying I'm going to do both of those things for a long time, I know. Shut up.) Anywho, if that combo doesn't work, Jesus and I are going to have a nice long life together.

Monday, November 21, 2005

ok, i lied

I can't have an exciting new job without blogging about it, at work, at least once. For the past four workdays, I have been a Customer Service Representative...nay, THE Customer Service Representative for a company that provides discounts to other companies. I can think of very few positions that could possibly make a person loathe other persons more than that of the Customer Service Representative. Even the simplest of queries fills me with rage. If only I possessed an even greater lack of self control and could respond however I choose...

Hi, I can't get into your website. I logged in with my email address - xxxx.xxxx@xxx.com - and my password which I know is correct. This is a pain.....!!
-Idiot, Principal Information Security Analyst


Dear Idiot,
We were unable to replicate your problem, because your login and password totally work--we just tried ourgoddamnselves. YOU are a pain.
-Your Customer Service Team

I just the Corporate Perks email. Looks like some really great deals. However, I didn't see and golf-related perks, i.e. discounts on tee time or equipment. Let's look into that, shall we? Thanks,
-Idiot, Purchasing Analyst


Dear Idiot,
Let's look into shoving a golf club up your ass, shall we?
-Your Customer Service Team

Grrr How about a toll free number to call to talk with someone live/in person while I am focused on this and needing the information vs a lttle box to type in?? I am looking for apple ipod nano and i get a list of other websites vs a list of ipods an prices, also when drilling down only get accessories for ipods not ipods siiiigh Then i try cell phones and only get 3 "providers" I want Metro PCS phones at a discount can't find any of that I try another search and apparently here is "info" can't click on anything to see what the "advantage" is unless i upgrade and pay for this.... Jimmmminny cricket - not impressed so far... help a girl out - help me understand the best way to navigate this site to get the info i need in one screen vs a filter for other shop sites Thanks
-Idiot


Dear Idiot,
Well jimmmminny our cricket, but we think your inability to locate Metro PCS phones at a discount is the least of your problems. May we suggest a few doses of lithium?
-Your Customer Service Team

Hi folks, I am an Big Company employee who also has a small farm on the side. In early January 2006, I expect to have about 600 broiler chickens ready for sale. These are naturally raised, no hormones, no antibiotics, mostly organic-fed, free-ranged, and grass-eating chickens, and we plan to sell them directly to consumers. I'd very much like to offer my chickens to Big Company employees. Is this something that we can pursue?
-Idiot


Dear Idiot,
We'd like to offer OUR naturally raised broiler chickens to Big Company employees too, but we can't all get what we want, now can we?
-Your Customer Service Team

Good morning, My user name is now _____@yahoo.com I was wondering if I could change it to _____@yahoo.com? Keep Smiling,
-Idiot
May the hand of a friend always be near you; May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.


Dear Idiot,
Your username has been changed. Please shove God's gladness up your ass.
-Your Customer Service Team

The title drop down box should include Miss, since (typically) a divorced woman uses Ms. and a married woman uses Mrs. Otherwise, don't require a title, which would be my preference.
-Idiot


Dear Idiot,
We think you might benefit from a good ol' roll in the hay. May we suggest Match.com?
-Your Customer Service Team

I am still unable to open to the Phone Company Apparel web page. When i click the redeen link, it opens a new window and errors out. I was emailed friday stating it would be fixed shirtly and it is still not. Any assistance would be greatly appreciated! Thanks,
-Idiot


Dear Idiot,
Do you really NEED to purchase Phone Company apparel? Hold on hold on hold on, take a moment to think about this. I know those 10% discounts are hard to resist, but is Phone Company apparel really all that aesthetically pleasing? Are you that proud of your employment at the country's third (or whatever) largest mobile telephone service provider? Will your friends' and relatives' eyes light up with glee when they receive an XXL Phone Company sweatshirt on Christmas morn? Didn't think so.
-Your Customer Service Team

I've just search Overstock.com and can't find the 240tc down comforter for $25.99 w/free shipping. H-E-L-P!!!!
-Idiot


Dear Idiot,
H-E-L-P!!!! yourself.
-Your Customer Service Team

cassiopeia it's o'leary the dicta on nose see clayton the hijack and ella may calypso or deject a dedicate it cruel on atomic try similar may caravan be sloane on algonquin it vitrify in transfinite the conductor some servitor try canny try decomposable it's religious not where may embrittle a indecision be eye be prolusion try palmetto in ophiuchus, baltimore on brainwash a in illogic on mildew the a dissension may thorny, some caroline! rural be some consistent, baltimore!
-Schizophrenic


Dear Schizophrenic,
Your email is the most pleasant we've received all day.
-Your Customer Service Team

Off to Baltimore! Happy Thanksgiving!

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

blogcation

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The blog's taking eight vacation days (unpaid, of course) while I stay here and in Baltimore and try to decrappify my life the unfulfilling state of affairs that has persisted for the last 1,095 days or so. Back after Thanksgiving.

Monday, November 14, 2005

meet tina

Okay okay okay. Some of you may have been a little alarmed by my last post. Some have even expressed concern. Fear not, incredulous readers, for I will not be trading booze and cigarettes for gorp and polar fleece just yet. However, there is something I must tell you. Deep deep down, somewhere around my gall bladder probably, lives my inner hippie. I blame my parents for purchasing 90% of the family's clothing from L.L.Bean and Land's End, having a designated "sports closet" in the house, and using toilet paper made from recycled materials. If multiple personality disorder were a legitimate condition, 10% of the time I would be Tina. Tina wishes she had enough money for regular yoga classes and can subsist on oatmeal and granola and isn't ashamed of listening to Cat Stevens and CCR without irony. She dreams of living in a large house in New England and spending evenings playing Scrabble by the fire. But don't worry--Tina hasn't taken over just yet.

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Picture by Anonymous, since no one from Friday night's shindig can recall any photos being taken

hiking

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Yesterday I went with Drone and Co. on a lovely hike in Cold Spring. The weather was absurdly perfect and the 2.5 hour hike was rather difficult--straight up and down on trails covered with rocks and dead leaves--in a good way. It made me want to raid an L.L.Bean catalog.

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The K9 Search and Rescue unit was training, and only about five times when we completely lost the trail did I think they'd be doing more than training.

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I love the Hudson, and I miss rowing on it and getting seasick.

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We are such a wholesome bunch. *snort*

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Wisconsin and New York State--not so different.

Friday, November 11, 2005

loosen those ties!

Hedge funds are a scary place to be on Friday afternoons. People come in wearing biz cazh and just go buckwild! At Hedge Fund Number One, the CEO's assistant, who was located a tragic 10 feet away from me, would blast Bon Jovi's latest hit "Have a Nice Day" on repeat every Friday afternoon when Bossman left the building. She would always sing along, and she got her hair cut to look like Mr. Bon Jovi's. Also she was at least 35, single as single can be, and had three cats. I did not like her a whole lot. And right this very moment, at Hedge Fund Number Two, a partner in the firm is playing a medley including that junior high dance staple "Come Baby Come," Avril Lavigne's "Complicated," and ABBA's "Dancing Queen." Now this guy I kinda like. As an aside, prior to the commencement of today's board meeting there was talk of midget rentals. I think my life in the finance world is now complete.

UPDATE: Clay Aiken, "MMMBop," Christina Aguilera, and "Pour Some Sugar On Me" have since joined the aforementioned medley. I have not decided if this makes me like Partnerman more or less. More, I think.

i rebuke this in the name of the lord

*Please tell me you saw Trading Spouses this week. This is one of the few shoes that is a true guilty pleasure for me (as opposed to ANTM, DeGrassi, The Food Network, Friends reruns...okay maybe not as opposed to Friends reruns.) But there was no guilt over this week's episode, since it was disturbingly amazing. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, please visit here, here, and here, lest the gargoyles whisk you away to the dark side.

*Overheard sums up approximately 94% of New York Metropolitan Area residents:
It Wasn't Work, It Was an Audition
Guy #1: You look really familiar to me; what do you do?
Guy #2: I'm an actor, poet, musician...
Guy #1: No...Did you ever work at Bloomingdale's?
Guy #2: ...Yes.

--Astoria


*I am in a bit of a funky mood. And not funky like Marky Mark's Bunch. TGIF, I guess.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

so much for stella

Like most people with two x chromosomes in New York, I was planning on slipping out for an early lunch break to buy some Stella McCartney stuff at H&M. After perusing the collection online, I'd decided that there are a few things I would wear, and, while they're not dirt cheap, they're cheap enough to not feel terribly guilty about. However, E just reported back from the front lines that, as I'd predicted, it is so not worth it. So I will just wait till next week. Oh the horror.

As for the gory details, there is a line 30 people deep out the door, there is hardly anything left on the racks just an hour after the store opened, and women with real Chanel purses are screaming, bitch-slapping, and playing tug-of-war with each other over some mass-produced, mediocre quality clothing that will continue to be restocked throughout the season. And these are the women that can afford Stella McCartney's main line, which is more well made, more interesting, and not accessible to the masses. This all just goes to confirm my personal life philosophy: people are really fucking insane.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

my day off, by gina

One of my absolute favorite New York activities is to wander around downtown on a weekday afternoon. Not only does this mean I am not at work, but there are less slow-moving tourists and I can pretend I'm one of the enviable many who are not 9-5 drones. So when I got canned on Friday I was not at all dismayed at the prospect of a day or two off. Unfortunately, my temp agency is a little too on top of things and found me a gig starting on Monday. At a hedge fund. With a "very conservative" image. Joy. On second thought, maybe they're not that on top of things, because I got an "Oops! You start Tuesday" email right before I said goodbye to my free gym access. Hells yes. So how did I spend my day? Let me count the ways.

*After an alarm-free wakeup and leisurely breakfast, I decided to do some cleaning. I almost always "clean" on the weekends, but it is limited to putting away my abused clothing and stacking my eighty bazillion magazines. But on Monday, I scrubbed the thick layer of dust off the top of my ceiling fan that had long ago become legitimately disgusting, even by my standards.

*Cleansed, I left the house to get my culture on and met up with friend E for lunch at the museum that provides her income. We strolled through a couple exhibits, one of which featured a work by a woman I'd just read about in the Times, whose upcoming exhibit features a replication of a work I saw at Mass MoCA this summer. Given that this was such a revelation, I think it's safe to say I will never make a good art snob.

*Then it was down to Union Square to drop off some borrowed clothes at Drone's friend Cool Brit's cool place of employment and to get some test results from my lady doctor. In case you were wondering, I do not have AIDS.

*On a tip from E, I then paid a visit to Ramon, the tailor. Ramon had done a beautiful job lengthening the sleeves on her winter coat, and my beloved Marc by Marc winter coat had inexplicably acquired a baseball-sized hole in the back. Ramon's services do not come cheap, but he is sweet and fast and seems to know what the hell he's doing, given that he's been doing it for like 40 years. Not even my carelessness is too much for Ramon.

*Shopping time! I've been much better about curbing my clothes buying extravagance, but I've got the bug bad and just wanted SOMEthing. Perplexa got a cute blazer from the Vice store once and they had sale signs on the window, so I stopped in. The most exciting thing I found was a thong with the words "Doesn't Have AIDS Yet" on the front. As a propos as this find was, I had to pass. I gave up on clothes and settled for my favorite-smelling candle from the Fresh store, where Angelina Jolie also shops, as I learned when the sales boy gave me the end part of a receipt from her delivery order.

I took the scenic, subway-transfer-free route home, and that was my day. Pretty basic stuff I'd been wanting to do for a long time but never really had the motivation to take care of. If I ever get a real job, I've decided that sick days will be reserved for days in which I am not, in fact, sick, and when I am sick I'll suck it up and go to work. Speaking of which, Day One at Stuffy Hedge Fund was as beige as the walls. But I did learn that if I had to choose between being a receptionist for more than a week and sticking my hand in a meat grinder, I wouldn't hesitate to stick my hand in a meat grinder. (Apologies to any receptionists out there. You are made of stronger stuff than I.)

Monday, November 07, 2005

dear tatum o'neal

Hey Tates. Can I call you Tates? I am so glad that you have recovered from your troubled marriage to John McEnroe and found a hot dude to make out and laugh with. However, perhaps it would be in your best interest to refrain from making out and laughing obnoxiously with him when you are sitting in the center of a filled-to-capacity movie theater. Was The Squid and the Whale not engaging enough to prevent you from moving your head back and forth constantly and chortling at inappropriate times? I am in the midst of a lengthy dry spell and have a self-diagnosed case of ADD so I can certainly understand your needs, but even I had no trouble sitting still. Next time, the girls stuck sitting behind you might just follow through on their desire to kick your seat, sneeze on you, and/or put gum in your pretty blonde hair.

Your fellow movie goer,
Gina

Friday, November 04, 2005

onward and...onward

Well well, it seems my days of free Raisin Bran Crunch and chopped salad are no more. I was informed today that someone else will be handling the Rolodexing duties around these parts starting next week. The folks I work for, bless their hearts, understand my malaise here, so there are no hard feelings on either end. I respect them a lot and know that they need someone who is passionate about administrative assistance, should such a person exist. The news was a bit shocking at first but, honestly, this could be just the kick in the pants I need to start doing something that I am perhaps even remotely suited for. As luck would have it, I had two, count 'em, TWO great interviews yesterday, and even if nothing immediate comes from them, I am feeling a little better. I celebrated my efforts with a trip out to the lovely neighborhood of Greenpoint, where I lagered it up at the bar of my dreams, played with a three-month-old puggle, and passed out with a giant stuffed turtle on my head.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

getting hangry

It's time for a little life update, folks. Because I am slowly going insane, and talking to the Internets in times like these generally seems to help. I know I'm much better off than I was exactly 365 days ago. Even though I'm still wasting away in unfulfilling corporate servitude, I no longer feel like there is nothing in the world that I could do to make myself happy. Now, I can identify at least five things that I could see myself getting paid to do. I don't cry anymore, I have no desire to makeout with "cool" guys, and I don't buy things I can't afford (though, technically, with my debt I can't even afford a gumball, unless said gumball were to cost negative $9,000.)

My problem is how the hell to go about doing anything. There are so many moves I could make, like taking classes or working on my own projects or going back to school or finding a non-mind-numbing job. I can't help but try to do them all at once, and then I end up half-assing everything and accomplishing nothing.

Here's a little analogy: Once in a very rare while, I will find myself extremely hungry. I am so hungry that all I want to do in the world is eat. But I'm so clouded by the feeling of hunger that I can't decide what I want to eat, even though, at that point, a Communion wafer would taste like molten chocolate cake. So I either lie on the couch in pain or keep walking around the city trying to find that one special sandwich that'll make up my mind for me, all the while getting hangrier and hangrier. It would all be so easy if the only option were, say, a pretzel cart. I'd brush off some of the salt, douse the thing in mustard, and it would be awesome.

i will never again be a shitty cab tipper

Great interview on Gothamist today with NYC cab driver Melissa Plaut:
I started driving a cab after losing my crappy corporate office job and using up all my unemployment benefits. The job market was looking bleak, and I didn't think I would survive another office job, so I took the plunge and went through the process of getting a hack license.
...
I treated the whole thing as an adventure, because that's what it was, and still is. I decided to stop worrying about figuring out what I was going to do for the rest of my life, and started focusing on what I wanted to do next. The taxi thing is what I'm doing now, but it's not forever (I hope).

That is damn admirable, I must say. I'm at the point where I almost don't care what it is I do next, as long as it's SOMETHING. Now I'm going to spend the rest of my day putting meetings on my bosses' Outlook calendars, reading the entirety of Melissa's blog, and contemplating what my something, ANYTHING, could be.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

available for private consultations and telepathic communication sessions by phone

In keeping with today's theme of total self-absorption, you can now find out what Google really thinks of you. Here are my most tasteful results:

gina is
gina is pregnant
gina is a 8thstreetlatina trying to fuck her way into america
gina is hot
gina is the greatest
gina is gorgeous
gina is fucking for a better life
gina is hard at work recording her demo album under the vision of producers
gina is the biggest fucking bitch ever
gina is able to control pumps of a ternary gradient solvent delivery system
gina is truly a lovely lady
gina is also the pi kappa delta governor for the province of missouri
gina is the barmaid at the aidensfield arms
gina is so wise; i have to listen carefully to catch her thickened speech
gina is a great gymnast
gina is a sweetly naïve young woman who just moved to portland from the small potato town of presque isle to take classes at the portland college
gina is a usdf certified instructor and currently has 16 horses and their owners in training at the farm and her day is rounded out with about 10 additional
gina is also an accomplished sculptress whose works have been shown at several prestigious public exhibitions
gina is also the host of wings of worship
gina is dedicated to finding the latest & greatest in diet & exercise
gina is not available to users for free
gina is in terrible danger
gina is practically a native of las vegas being that she has lived here for close to 20 years
gina is to return to bali for a show at the hard rock hotel later this year
gina is sexually assaulted by a group of boys that are surrounding her
gina is gagged and the tickling continues
gina is a consummate student of culinary arts
gina is truly a inspiration to anyone
gina is a replacement sent by a local modeling agency
gina is available for private consultations and telepathic communication sessions by phone
gina is licensed to practice law in massachusetts and the district of columbia
gina is in an abusive relationship with andrew
gina is going to raise her eyebrow when acting

hot brain sex

I love me a good personality quiz. And this is a real one, not one of those "Which member of the Killers is least likely to never have sex with you" Quizilla things. It is with great pleasure that I reveal my results of BBC's Sex ID analysis [via Nerve]:

I am, more or less (*ahem*), a gay man.

No one needs to see the extensive breakdown [sorry about that], but I think the quiz is pretty accurate. I am, indeed, good at science and math and spacial stuff. It's just unfortunate for me that I don't particularly like that stuff. And I am also quite empathetic (believe it or not) and a good judge of others (oooh how I love to judge others!) And I do prefer my dudes to look like dudes. Basically, I think like a guy, feel like a girl, and like to makeout with guys. But I knew this already. What I found most enlightening about this quiz is the following remark:
Men often think a person's eyes are sending signals of desire when that's not the case at all.

This is because men are not as astute at reading people's facial expressions as women are. Perhaps the next time some hapless chap hits on me in a bar, I'll be a little more sympathetic. Eh, probably not.