Ok, so either someone decided to retaliate at work and put SPEED in the coffee or I’m having some sort of hybrid-nyquil-caffeine-smart-water-on-crack-rush today. I’ve been uber productive at work but can’t stop feeling like my heart is going to fly right out of my chest. I feel like I’m around some ridiculously intelligent cute boy who is flirting with me only there is absolutely NO ONE around. It’s quite an interesting feeling, actually. And I will have written this blog during my ten minute afternoon break which should explain even further how fully stimulated I am at the moment.
Someone recently wondered what happened to all the crazy people at work and why they aren’t showing up on my blog. They’re still here, thankyouverymuch. Jungle Mullet Woman is still camped out in her cubicle full of ferns and gnomes and other greenery masking her mullet from everyone else. Neon Bangs Woman decided to tone it down a bit but she still has glowing copper streaks. I THINK I got rid of Weird Stalker Guy. That, or he’s in jail which would not surprise me in the least. Shizam—whose real name rhymes with that word—is still poking her head over my cubicle and calling me a "ho" like she can't help it but I try to shrug it off and blame it on her hypnotherapist who isn’t doing a very thorough job. Strip Pole Lady is still dancing her way up and down a pole in her bedroom every morning. Angelina Jolie was here last week and apparently Pax’ presence in the company daycare kicked out three other hard-working employees’ kids. How Pax = three other kids, I don’t know, but that’s what I heard. The other night on the Lot I watched In the Land of Women before it opened and when we all walked out of the theater everyone kept saying “soooo awkward!”
And it was. If you have any residual personal issues with your mother, or father, or people being unfaithful, or illness, or caring for the elderly, or problems with men making out with a mother and a daughter or anything totally disgusting like that—you shouldn’t go see that movie. It’s extremely, uncomfortably, messy. It’s like someone (albeit humorously) spewed all their psychological issues onto the screen so everyone could suffer with them. It slightly reminds me of being mooned by a less-than-appealing bootay.
But the real reason I haven’t been writing about the crazies and funnies and sillies of work is because my personal life has begun to look grossly like a bad soap opera. I keep waiting for the credits. “Ok! I’ve had enough! Thanks—that was really twisted and sick but I’m totally done with this chapter,” I keep thinking to myself. But it doesn’t end. It doesn’t get resolved. It just keeps lingering like the plot-lines of Grey’s Anatomy. Nothing gets tied up with a bow.
To be honest—I think that’s why In the Land of Women made the audience so miserable. We don’t want to spend two hours in the dark to be transported to a place as messy as our own lives. And if it is messy, we want it to be so ridiculously terrifying and gross and ugly that it makes us happy ours are mild in comparison and makes us sigh with relief. I think that’s why Disturbia hit number one this weekend. “Hey man, my life might be __________ but at least I don’t have a serial killer living next door,”(or whatever that movie is about-- haven't seen it) the audience thinks as they leave the theater sweating and paranoid.
Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe In the Land of Women just struck every uncomfortable nerve in my body. And maybe because of my personal drama the crazies at work don’t seem very crazy anymore. In fact, instead of seeming startlingly absurd,I sort of appreciate their oddities even more. They are predictable oddities, at least...
Someone recently wondered what happened to all the crazy people at work and why they aren’t showing up on my blog. They’re still here, thankyouverymuch. Jungle Mullet Woman is still camped out in her cubicle full of ferns and gnomes and other greenery masking her mullet from everyone else. Neon Bangs Woman decided to tone it down a bit but she still has glowing copper streaks. I THINK I got rid of Weird Stalker Guy. That, or he’s in jail which would not surprise me in the least. Shizam—whose real name rhymes with that word—is still poking her head over my cubicle and calling me a "ho" like she can't help it but I try to shrug it off and blame it on her hypnotherapist who isn’t doing a very thorough job. Strip Pole Lady is still dancing her way up and down a pole in her bedroom every morning. Angelina Jolie was here last week and apparently Pax’ presence in the company daycare kicked out three other hard-working employees’ kids. How Pax = three other kids, I don’t know, but that’s what I heard. The other night on the Lot I watched In the Land of Women before it opened and when we all walked out of the theater everyone kept saying “soooo awkward!”
And it was. If you have any residual personal issues with your mother, or father, or people being unfaithful, or illness, or caring for the elderly, or problems with men making out with a mother and a daughter or anything totally disgusting like that—you shouldn’t go see that movie. It’s extremely, uncomfortably, messy. It’s like someone (albeit humorously) spewed all their psychological issues onto the screen so everyone could suffer with them. It slightly reminds me of being mooned by a less-than-appealing bootay.
But the real reason I haven’t been writing about the crazies and funnies and sillies of work is because my personal life has begun to look grossly like a bad soap opera. I keep waiting for the credits. “Ok! I’ve had enough! Thanks—that was really twisted and sick but I’m totally done with this chapter,” I keep thinking to myself. But it doesn’t end. It doesn’t get resolved. It just keeps lingering like the plot-lines of Grey’s Anatomy. Nothing gets tied up with a bow.
To be honest—I think that’s why In the Land of Women made the audience so miserable. We don’t want to spend two hours in the dark to be transported to a place as messy as our own lives. And if it is messy, we want it to be so ridiculously terrifying and gross and ugly that it makes us happy ours are mild in comparison and makes us sigh with relief. I think that’s why Disturbia hit number one this weekend. “Hey man, my life might be __________ but at least I don’t have a serial killer living next door,”(or whatever that movie is about-- haven't seen it) the audience thinks as they leave the theater sweating and paranoid.
Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe In the Land of Women just struck every uncomfortable nerve in my body. And maybe because of my personal drama the crazies at work don’t seem very crazy anymore. In fact, instead of seeming startlingly absurd,I sort of appreciate their oddities even more. They are predictable oddities, at least...
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