Thursday, August 31, 2006

Pierced Pepper Mills

I realize this requires much explanation. Pull up a chair get comfy....here we go.

First of all, does everyone have the pleasure of working with a fun bunch of crazies like I do? If you don’t, I feel for you, honestly.

We are a diverse group. If you saw us together in a non-festive situation, I am willing to bet that you wouldn’t believe we could have some wicked fun away from work. We do. We do indeed.

Last night started out customarily, a cohorts birthday celebration. Before I forget, I have three words for you: Key Lime Martini. Don’t question it, go out and try one and then get back to me. Thank God for sidekicks who like to bend a few while waiting for the rest of the gang. We are nothing if not entertaining. The Three Lushkateers!

We kept the bartender hopping, he looked a little bored before we arrived. I am sure that’s his take on the evening as well. Anyhoo, after 2 cocktails the rest of the party showed up and off we were ushered to a table in the rear of the establishment. Maybe our reputation preceded us? You never know.

It all started innocently enough, we are medically inclined so of course the conversation took a medicinal turn and before you know it we were trying to explain why anyone would pierce that part of his anatomy. Since I believe in visual aides and because we had an unusually odd shaped pepper mill on the table. Bing, bang boom, our straight laced associate got the picture and blushed the deepest shade of crimson you’ve ever seen. Good times!

It’s not a successful party until one of us is mortified.

So, what did you all do last night?

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

And Your Point Is?

I have a huge problem when I encounter nepotism at the workplace. I do not, nor will I ever, believe that relatives should work in a situation where one is supervising the other. (My blog, my opinion. Don't like it, stop reading.) Similarly, I don’t believe that one should use a relative as their trump card in any type of work related issue.

This brings me to a recent conversation I somehow got entangled in while on the clock. Okay, who are we kidding, I live for moments like these:

(Scenario: 2 visitors from another site visiting my office recently)

Wicked: Hey, what’s up?
Coworker 1 (CW1): Wicked!! Whadya know girl?
Coworker 2 (CW2): Long time no see, what’s the scoop.
Wicked: Aw you know, always full of scoop. Pick a topic.
(For obvious reasons, I will not divulge the topic. I am not that stupid)
CW1: How about the recent excitement?
Wicked: What about it?
CW2: Oh, you know CW1 is related to a big shot.
Wicked: Really? Well I am related to my parents. What’s the point? If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.
CW1 & 2: Blink....blink.....
Wicked: CW1 being related to a big shot means absolutely nothing to me. Not intimidated by it in the least. If CW1 doesn’t want to know my opinion of the recent events, then he shouldn’t have asked.
CW2: Good point. My bad.
( Funny how CW1 was intently listening to the exchange but not participating)
Wicked: Well you screwed up your chance to hear my opinion on the subject. Off you both go now. I am a busy woman.
CW1: Does this mean we are done discussing the excitement?
Wicked: In order to have a discussion, all parties must actively participate. Since you chose to abstain, we are through here.
CW2: Giggles
CW1: ......
Wicked: Have a nice day gentlemen. Y’all come back now, you here?

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Watch Out Everyone!!!

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Mother Nature is having a BAD day. If Mamma's not happy, aint nobody happy. Although, if she is flipping us off collectively perhaps she will be able to let it go.

I may just stay under the covers to be safe.

Monday, August 28, 2006

The Apple Never Falls Far From the Tree

The other day while driving back from a lunch outing with co-workers, we were involved in a spirited discussion. I was driving and actively participating in the debate. I noticed that my passengers got very quiet quickly. I asked them what was wrong. They in turn asked me why we were traveling so slowly while in the left lane.

Apparently, I am unable to partake in a spirited debate and follow the regular traffic laws simultaneously. Wait, it gets better. Ever since I can remember I have always criticized my Father for being unable of performing the exact same tasks.

So the lesson here folks is to be careful how you admonish your elders because here is the proof that it will indeed turn around and bite you in the ass.

Sorry Dad!

Friday, August 25, 2006

Overheard in No. VA

That woman is 6 cats shy of being the "Crazy Cat Lady"!

Priceless......

Thursday, August 24, 2006

When Pigs Fly

I have mentioned him ad nauseam. It seems Mr. I Posses an MBA but I cannot even take a basic H&P, is out pounding the pavement again. Thank the heavens GE wised up quick and asked him to be successful elsewhere.

This just in, he used the nepotism card and tried to strong arm a Northern VA hospital into hiring him. However, he was up against one major fatal flaw. You see the big wig Docs at his former place of employment could give a rats ass as to whether or not they play the politically correct HR card. So when his sister-in-law’s department head asked the key question “would you rehire this person if you had the chance?” The answer was an emphatic HELL NO.

Those of us who live in NOVA can now breath a great sigh of relief. I would not be surprised of this idiot and the Troll end up working in the same medical facility at some point.

Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be treated by either. You can thank me later.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

School Days, Update Your Booster Days…..

As the end of summer gets closer and closer, the number of school physicals grows exponentially. I have been recruited more of late to restrain or assist in the wrangling of kids who are in need of immunizations in order to attend school. As well as those kids who happen to be due their next round of inoculations.

Not being a parent myself, I throw these scenarios out there to any parents who might peruse my site. I have narrowed down the kids receiving their shots into a few categories; let me know what you think:

Stoic – these are the kids who have the look of terror in their eyes but remain quite still and receive their booster with little to no fuss. Typically the stoic child’s parent is more of a wreck than the child.

Petrified – these are the kids whose parent is talking them off the ledge the entire time. These parents are more than capable of keeping the child still so that the rest of us can move things along as quickly as possible. The petrified child will most likely cry but will not otherwise deter the needle from hitting its target.

Inconsolable – these are the kids whose parents most likely had terrible memories of receiving shots themselves. Typically, before I get into the room to help, the child is planning his/her escape or bartering for anything but the needle. Ear piercing screams accompanied by much arm flailing and leg kicking. We haven’t even uncapped the needle yet. The parent of this child most definitely cannot circumvent the movement of their offspring. The parent is so stressed out by the child’s reaction to the impending doom that not only do they not comprehend the instructions on how to comfort the child while three of us are preparing for battle, they are just not able to participate.

In my humble opinion, the parent’s of the inconsolable children just shouldn’t be in the room during the shots. It really makes the whole process more difficult, especially for the child. In defense of these school aged children; I don’t remember having to receive more than one shot a time as a kid. I have been in the room where the child can receive up to four inoculations at once. Talk about being stressed out; you certainly cannot blame the kid for being scared. We do our best to make the process as painless as possible but when faced with a child who is screaming bloody murder before we even enter the room and a parent who goes limp with indecision, things can go south quickly.

These are my observations. For the record, my own Mom would threaten me with a visit to the doctor for a shot anytime I misbehaved. Obviously, that wasn’t the smartest thing she has ever done but I most likely deserved those threats and many more that she may have missed. However, I was the stoic type of child. That is of course after my Mom had to catch me and get me in the car for the visit to the doctor. Once in public, we were only allowed to be stoic.

Monday, August 21, 2006

"Supercalifragilisticexpiala-CRAZY"

A spoonful of tequila helps the medicine go down, yes indeed.

How do you know if you have thrown a successful cookout for your friends who also happen to be your co-workers? I'll tell you.

Have a theme, ours was "Tasty Tapas"
Liquor. A huge lot of it.
The right combination of guests, check!
Good weather. A little too humid for my taste but Tequila cures all.
Guests with magical epicurean powers. Who knew?
Your ancient grill holding up to the pressure, check check!
Spouses of guests who can dish it out as well as I could take it. Love those
spousal units.
Chocolate fondue with AMARETTO. Who cares if the chocolate was slightly lumpy.
Giggle fits while trying to explain what ramekins are to those who I previously
thought were gastronimists.

And the number one way to know you had a terrific tapas cookout, your guests attempt to clean your entire kitchen while you are still slurping a libation. SCORE!


(Title of this post lifted from one of the Project Runway contestants)

Friday, August 18, 2006

Free Spirits

The other day while at work, I was having a conversation with our receptionist. I was at the front desk chatting with her. The floor plan of our office is open, if anyone is engaging the receptionist everyone in the waiting is in on the conversation. Of course we are compliant with all HIPPA regulations, everyone calm down.

We were discussing whether or not Paris Hilton would stay with Stavros or move onto the next best prospect. The receptionist’s cell phone rang. Unbeknownst to her, the ring tone had recently been tampered with. The song that was playing was very upbeat and happy. Without any other provocation, she and I began jamming to the tune while continuing our discussion. It was not until the patient in the waiting room startling laughing that we realized we had an audience.

While we were trying to maintain a bit of decorum, the patient asked if the floor show would cost him any extra. That is my kind of patient. We told him that being a patient at our facility comes with many perks not to worry.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Don’t Cha Wish Your Auntie was a Freak like Me?

Little Mermaid called me at work today on her new Razr phone. A pink one, no less. She was so excited. She asked me to call her right back. When I asked her why she told me she wanted to make sure she had the correct ring tone set for me?

My 11 year old niece not only owns a pink Razr phone, she knows how to program it and the song she picked for her favorite Aunt’s ring tone? Don’t Cha.

THAT is my girl!!!!!

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Shuffle, Shuffle, Step- Ball-Change

Working in a remote quiet corner of the office, I have developed the uncanny ability to know who is approaching by the sound of their gait. It’s a gift, what can I tell you.

We have the following:

ADD Stride: Very quick paces, determined to get from point A to B in the most expeditious way possible. Unfortunately this one cannot simply get the task done without sticking their nose into everyone’s business along the way.

Not a Care in the World Stride: Very deliberate even stride. Never waivers, ever.

The Shuffling Seasonal Stride: Very typical of someone who could care less about being here, just please let the clock tick 5 already. The gait is similar to a child who is dragging right before a tantrum erupts. You know, long shuffling steps. Just listening to it exhausts me.

Clickity-Clack of the Female Drug Reps: Hey did you know that Manolo Blahnik’s and Jimmy Choo’s make entirely different clickity clacks? Neither did I, nor did I care. But for those of you who need this type of information, you are most welcome.

Obviously, number crunching has numbed my brain. Although my sense of humor remains intact.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Rock the Kasbah

What do you do when your first attempt at putting together a big-ass canopy fails miserably? Well first you dig up the step by step directions and then you erect the sucker indoors.

A while ago, I had a brainstorm and decided to purchase a mammoth canopy for my deck so that I could enjoy the summer with some shade. My thought was that once I assembled the canopy, I would leave it out there until summer was over and then retire it until next season. Of course what I did not take into account was the fact that my Nazi Home Owners Association would probably frown on a 10 foot by 10 foot canopy residing on my deck for a few months.

So here is a picture of my ill-fated attempt at cool breezes on the Kasbah deck. On the plus side, it was bought on E-bay for way more than I ever paid.

Cha-ching!

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Monday, August 14, 2006

Dear Neighborhood Squirrels:

Nothing soothes me more than sitting on my deck and watching you all perform acrobatic feats to obtain the seeds from the many bird feeders on my deck. It’s therapeutic.

I am writing today to lodge a complaint. I have painstakingly harvested four tomato plants on my deck this season. It was part of my self imposed therapy after my dog passed away. Without that project, I may not have even stepped out onto the deck all summer for that was where Dexter and I spent much quality time. I am giving you all these details because I do not appreciate you and your friends having a green tomato smorgasbord.

I was not amused to see the three of you perched on my deck rails each with a tomato. Listen to me; bird’s seed feast very good tomato fest not so much. This is your one and only warning to cease and desist. Let me enjoy my tomato harvest. Remember, it has more meaning than a bunch of vegetation.

I’ve got my eyes on you.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Happy Birthday Friend

There are numerous adages I can come up with to describe the importance of the family we choose for ourselves. Instead, I will share with you a poem that is very meaningful to me and wish my very good friend a very Happy Birthday. As always, HFS I wish you happiness on your birthday and ALL days.

"Portrait of a Friend"

I can't give solutions to all of life's problems, doubts,
or fears. But I can listen to you, and together we will
search for answers.

I can't change your past with all it's heartache and pain,
nor the future with its untold stories.
But I can be there now when you need me to care.

I can't keep your feet from stumbling.
I can only offer my hand that you may grasp it and not fall.

Your joys, triumphs, successes, and happiness are not mine;
Yet I can share in your laughter.

Your decisions in life are not mine to make, nor to judge;
I can only support you, encourage you,
and help you when you ask.

I can't prevent you from falling away from friendship,
from your values, from me.
I can only pray for you, talk to you and wait for you.

I can't give you boundaries which I have determined for you,
But I can give you the room to change, room to grow,
room to be yourself.

I can't keep your heart from breaking and hurting,
But I can cry with you and help you pick up the pieces
and put them back in place.

I can't tell you who you are.
I can only love you and be your friend.

Because senility has obviously set in on me prematurely, I have gotten confused. I know HFS' birthday is August 13th. However, I am addled and have no other excuse. Instead we will all call it the celebration of HFS' birthday weekend. In the meantime, I will scour our drug samples at work to see if I can find something to retard this decrepitude that has taken over my senses.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

What Was He Thinking? Was He Thinking at All?

I have to say, to the marketing wizards employed by Geico Insurance you all are certainly an entertaining bunch. Obviously your commercials are working. You’ve got my attention. Will I change insurance carriers? Not likely. I’ll do you one better and discuss the embarrassment that is Burt Bacharach.

Burt! What were you thinking? Are you lacking in capital? Why else would you possibly take part in a commercial that makes you look like you are having an epileptic/idiot savant episode? Dude!

Let me fill in those of you who may have more of a life than myself and have not taken note of the lyrics that Mr. Bacharach is singing during the commercial:

“I was hit in the rear.”
“The lizard licks his eyeballs.”
“I hope I’ll never get hit in the rear.....again.”

Burt, for the love of all that is dignified, what’s with the bazaar trance like state? Perhaps you are hosed (pun intended? - you bet your ass!) to the max. I can’t think of any other way you agreed to such image debauchery. Surely you did not need this type of exposure.

These commercials are more suited to Charo and Little Richard. I don’t’ have nightmares after viewing their spots. Burt please, get some new people. These are dragging you so far down.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

What I Learned Today

You are never too old to get your wings clipped.

Bummer!

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Rubbish and the Elimination Thereof

My Mom and I had an interesting conversation recently. She was recanting different landmarks in her life as a married woman. She made a very interesting comment which stuck with me. She said your Father and I have had the sweetest life together but this getting old business sucks donkey balls. (She used her mother tongue to describe the amount of suckage so I thought it best to translate)

Right after I returned downstairs to continue the conversation with my Mom, I had to change my shirt due to the snorting of coffee through my nose, I asked her to expound. She waived her hand at me and simply said ask your Father about the trash situation. Intrigued, I found my Dad and we had the following discussion:

Wicked H: Dad, I’ve got the trash from the kitchen, which trash can do you want me to put it in ( our conversation was taking place in the garage where he has 2 strategically placed garbage cans and one recycling container none of which are being used for their normal purpose)?

Dad: Just drop the bag right there and I’ll take care of it.

Wicked: Dad, why can’t I just put it into the trash can right here?

Dad: I will take care of it, just drop the bag.

Wicked: No really, I am not trying to cause trouble, I am just curious as to what you will do with the trash once I drop it?

Dad: I triple bag it and take it to the dumpster at work.

Wicked: Don’t we have neighborhood trash removal services?

Dad: Yes.

Wicked: Are you still paying for those services?

Dad: Yes.

Wicked: Then why would you transport the trash in your car to the dumpster at work?

Dad: I don’t like the odor of rotting trash in the garage.

Wicked: Wouldn’t you get the same odor in your car while hauling the trash in your vehicle.

Dad: No! I triple bag it.

Wicked: Ok Dad, I still don’t get why you won’t let the garbage service remove the trash but you do what makes you happy.

Dad: That’s what I do.

I am still trying to wrap my head around the whole idea of my 81 year old Dad playing part time sanitation engineer while performing the duties of a psychiatrist. If he didn’t get so agitated during our little discussion, I was going to remind him that most work place dumpster owners frown upon having non-work related trash deposited in them but I decided to pick my battles.

I am pretty sure senility is rearing it’s ugly head but if it makes him happy and he doesn’t get arrested for depositing trash at the workplace dumpster, go for it Dad. I sure hope his patient’s don’t witness him doing this or I’d like to be a fly on the wall when they ask him what the heck he is doing.

If anyone out there has any ideas or can enlighten me, I would be most appreciative.

Saturday, August 05, 2006

To Dupe Or Not to Dupe, THAT is the Real Question

A male friend of mine was buying a large bag of dog food and encountered the following while in the checkout line:

The woman behind me asked if I had a dog. On impulse, I told her that no, I
was starting The Purina Diet again, although I probably shouldn't because
I'd ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I
awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my
orifices and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it
works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one
or two every time you feel hungry & that the food is nutritionally complete
so I was going to try it again.

I have to mention here that practically everyone in the line was
enthralled with my story, particularly the guy who was behind her.

Horrified, she asked if I'd ended up in the hospital in that condition
because I had been poisoned. I told her no; it was because I'd been sitting
in the street licking my balls and a car hit me.

I thought one guy was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard
as he staggered out the door

Friday, August 04, 2006

Dear Mother Nature:

Listen lady, I understand all about going through menopause but this is freaking ridiculous! I know we are warming the globe unnecessarily and we could do way better saving the planet. Point taken already.

I’ll make you a deal. If I can convince at least my whole row of neighbors to recycle responsibly, will you cut us some slack? It’s a start, you have to admit.

Think about it and get back to me.

I’ll be the one with my feet in a cooler filled with ice fanning myself constantly.

Love and kisses…oh forget it; it is way too damn hot to get near anyone!

Thursday, August 03, 2006

I'd Still Pick Work, Way Better than the Alternative..

Just in case you ever get these two environments mixed up, this should make things a little bit clearer.

At Prison
you spend the majority of your time in a 10X10 cell
At Work
you spend the majority of your time in an 8X8 cubicle

At Prison
you get three meals a day fully paid for
At Work
you get a break for one meal and you have to pay for it

At Prison
you get time off for good behavior
At Work
you get more work for good behavior

At Prison
the guard locks and unlocks all the doors for you
At Work
you must often carry a security card and open all the doors for yourself

At Prison
you can watch TV and play games
At Work
you could get fired for watching TV and playing games

At Prison
you get your own toilet
At Work
you have to share the toilet with some people who pee on the seat

At Prison
they allow your family and friends to visit
At Work
you aren't even supposed to speak to your family

At Prison
all expenses are paid by the taxpayers with no work required
At Work
you get to pay all your expenses to go to work, and they deduct taxes from your salary to pay for prisoners

At Prison
you spend most of your life inside bars wanting to get out
At Work
you spend most of your time wanting to get out and go inside bars

At Prison
you must deal with sadistic wardens
At Work
they are called managers

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Hip Kidz or Fashion Faux Pas?

Since when is wearing your old ratty pajama bottoms out in public the new black? Come on!

I am all for making your statement with fashion but that is simply crossing the line. To the tween who had perfectly manicured nails, beautifully coifed hair and sporting the latest Coach bag, I have to ask why would you wear the rattiest pair of Dora the Explorer pj bottoms to the Mall? Do you really want that kind of attention? I just cannot wrap my head around any tween male finding that look appealing.

Being a teenager is hard enough honey. Throw on a pair of conventional pants and live your life. Pajamas are meant to be worn in the confines of your own house. For the love of Michael Kors, promise to never do that again.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

FBI Most Wanted Update

Well it seems my BIL was able to get past the Federales, twice. All those years of police training have paid off.

Happy to report their trip was uneventful in respect to being detained. However, I was told that a British couple was greeted in their Mexican Riviera Hotel by a snake. As the story was retold to me by my niece, complete with a spot on British accent. The couple reported it was quite disheartening and the Missus was unable to get a good night’s sleep after said incident.

Sorry Sis, we tried. Next time we will get him on a better list. Oops, did I just type that?