Blonde Story Short

There's this man I know...that asks me this question often. 90% of the time I have an insightful (and super interesting) explanation. I believe the other 10% of the time, the questions are irrelevant. Today's "Why do women do that?" proceeded one word: Questionnaire . Women have this habit (a beneficial habit in my humble opinion) of analyzing every situation as if they are required to fill out a questionnaire on it. There's the rating : "What did you like the most ?" "What did you think of that particular part?" "I'd say it could've used a little work...what did you think?" These are usually enthusiastically asked first, with the hope you'll join in on the fun. Then the reflection : "I would like to see more of that next time." Reflect with caution (if reflecting outloud). We usually have a subtle lesson to teach at this point. And finally the summary : These usually start with words like "Overall" ...

Any legitimate plot for revenge should include a good old ding-dong ditch. And this one did... After 2 1/2 teaspoons of NyQuil (directions say 2 but I figure I should make it worth my while) I was nestled in my bed, enjoying my recently dry-cleaned duvet like any lady would. Given the circumstances, I planned on upwards of 8 glorious hours of sleep. I'm a firm believer in a 1 to 1 ratio as far as sleep and work time are concerned. Around 3:15 this morning an unusual (unless you live in my awesome apartment building) scene woke me...and it was a scene . Somebody was putting on quite a show, and the soundtrack was unlike one I have ever heard...especially directly above my head. While I did NOT care to entertain any thoughts or visions of what was occurring a vinyl floor away, the 5-7 silent minutes between sessions, did lead me to conclude a few things: My upstairs neighbor apparently moonlights as a porn star No matter what situation I'm in (or situation I'm forced to be ...

I'm not talking about what I call myself when I'm on a Jillian Michaels workout kick. I'm talking about the piece of machinery in my office that I curse for it's size and inability to blend in with my decor. For whatever reason, for many reasons really, I feel like I'm having a panic attack this morning...not like my standard freak out where I go around with a bottle of 409 and hand towels, but the kind where I feel like I'm losing air and having to take slow breaths to avoid passing out alone in my 3rd floor office! I don't have the usual outlets here at work, although I suppose the cleaning lady wouldn't mind me throwing some of her Ajax in the lounge sink and giving it a good scrub. Instead of that perfectly normal way of dealing with things(?), I wrote down all of my cares...some of them are don't-cares but unfortunately still take up head-space...and threw them down the pike of my shredder. This has a two-fold purpose: 1) symbolic. deep right? ...

So many anecdotes, so little time. My deepest apologies. I'm sure your life choices and philosophies depend on these short stories. I'll try a little harder. For the ten minute block I have (that of course continues to be interrupted, leading me to immediately minimize this screen-remember that quick reflexes are important to survival) I will share with you a secret power we all possess. It's called the power of song. What? Yes... One of my favorite people (who keeps me on my toes, and one-ups just about every story I have to tell; fave in many ways) boldly shared the following: "Every time you wear those boots I think you should be on a motorcycle." Internal: Um...okay. That's not exactly what I was going for (for the past 2 years that I've been wearing this particular pair!) External: Begin singing. I literally began singing. Don't ever underestimate the sweet sound of an alto. Result: laughter. Who can continue acting smug while they're laugh...

Welcome to a segment I like to call Are you kidding me? Sometimes, Are you FREAKING kidding me is actually more appropriate. Just depends on the day and matter at hand. I used to experience many, many AYKM's in my personal life...they've mostly evolved into more work-related scenarios. Although I haven't been in my current position (not upright in an Ergonomic chair, but current occupation rather) for all that long, I have been here long enough to make the following snide question pretty...snide. When a certain student came into my office trying to get away with something (typical) she put her best foot forward with a prompt insult. "Hi...Sara right?" You can insert your name and repeat the question (which really isn't a question) if it'll provide you a more vivid picture. Did I mention there was a French accent involved? Yea. Whole 'nother level right? While I snootily laughed and confirmed my name, I felt the desire for a bit of a stronger reacti...

I'm not called or chosen...to be office-bound I would consider the idea of a glorious home office; perhaps one that had a plush white rug in the center, classically matted photos and fantastic lighting. Are you getting a visual of what my future could hold? Other than that, I'm just not into the whole thing. A good indicator of my feelings is that a scenario that includes me changing an ink cartridge (like yesterday for example) almost brings me to tears. I sort of feel the same way about scanning documents and file cabinets. While many nuances of the administrative lifestyle bring up not-so-enticing emotions inside me, I am fairly certain that the greater part of the issue is due to the fact: I just don't like being told what to do. Ever. I know. Tough break. It's not that I'm a Princess or anything (if you disagree you can just keep that to yourself), I've just never been in a position where I really feel like I'm someones subordinate (there...

1. Black bra under white cami- I'm sure the one person I see at work today will think it's cool 2. Side braid, so "in" even for non-hipsters 3. Learning things- in the graduate class being taught next door to my office...Sarah and Abraham, Classic 4. Struggler's lunch- cherry tomatoes, turkey meat and pudding did the trick today. Is that an almond in my desk drawer? What a convenient protein. 5. Lots of emails- piled up from taking a Friday off. You WISH you went to Comicon...in a vintage Batman tee 6. Opening up Google calendar to see what the next weekend holds, I hold fast to a work-to-live philosophy. 7. "I miss you already" texts...don't judge my luuurve 8. Reviewing online bank statement (what do you propose I do on a 30-minute break?) 9. Standing afternoon meeting 10. A blog post at ten 'til 5? yes I think so.