The Office
Unfortunately, my office does not have any Jim like characters. That makes me sad.
Life at the office is good. I’m learning lots of things and I have a feeling that I could be really good at this job – once someone shows me what I should be doing. It’s been a busy two weeks at the Marketing Place. They are all doing their performance reviews, which have to be presented to the senior heads of our department, and then to the senior head of the whole department. So everyone’s been busy and running around and no one really has time to train me. I’ve been asking the girls I work with to help me out, and they basically do.
However.
These girls are all about my age (ranging from 22-28ish), but they all ignore me. Don’t get me wrong, they aren’t mean or anything. They just act like I’m not there. And that makes me come home and cry. Partially because I am all hormonal – partially because I’m a 13 year old girl and no one wants to be my friend.
I know that’s stupid. You don’t have to tell me.
It’s hard being at work when it seems like no one wants you to be around. All the girls in my department go to lunch with each other and eat lunch in the office with each other and joke around with each other – and I’m not included. So I eat lunch alone and do things alone and sometimes they invite me, but mostly they don’t. I don’t invite myself because I don’t want to be “THAT GIRL”. THAT GIRL that just thinks she’s a part of the gang when she’s not. I know I am not part of the gang yet, but I’d like to think with time that I would be. Right now, I’m still waiting outside the clubhouse.
I don’t expect everyone to immediately be my friend or even immediately like me. But I would expect that people would include me in things just so that I wouldn’t be the new girl and I wouldn’t feel so left out. I’ve always struggled to make friends. I just have no idea how. I don’t know how someone becomes your friend – I guess they just do.
So it’s been upsetting me. And it makes me feel like I’m in 6th grade again. I’m struggling because of it. I know it will get better and I’m still the new girl and so on – but it’s still not fun.
This week should be better because I can get more training from the senior people in the department and I can learn whole processes, instead of bits and pieces at a time.
At the big fancy Marketing Place, I have to be a Vanilla version of myself. I can’t laugh and smile and make everyone do the same. So at work, I’m not fun Vanilla Sarah. I tone myself down and don’t giggle at things and try to keep it all locked up. Which is hard. Which is why I send ridiculous emails to everyone to keep myself sane.
I am not good at being Vanilla. I’m like…Moose Tracks ice cream. Or something else with lots of good things in it. But I can only be Moose Tracks when I’m not at work. And that’s just one more thing I’m having a hard time with.
The job really is good though. I know I can learn everything I need to and seriously kick some ass once I get good. Or at least kick some ass of the Marketing Place Mean Girls.
Because on Wednesdays, they wear pink. And they can all return to their homes on Whore Island.
Mother Nature is going to get her ass kicked
Honestly, snow doesn’t bother me. I went to school in western New York where it would snow for days on end. I enjoy snow. I think it’s pretty. The cold doesn’t bother me much either.
But this bullshit weather? It’s raining, it’s sleeting, it’s snowing, there’s fog, there’s snow again, EVERYTHING IS MELTING, more snow.
This is bullshit. And it’s got to stop.
When the weather gets like this – all the low pressure systems and whatnot – my head starts pounding. I start getting headaches, which could turn into migraines. And I’ve been feeling that way for like, a week now. I know there is nothing I can do about it except for take some painkillers and hope for the best.
BUT DAMN IT. SNOW OR RAIN. MAKE UP YOUR MIND.
W is away at college and they got 2 1/2 feet of snow over the past 48 hours. I would be cool with that. Then my brains wouldn’t hurt. And hey, I like snow. I’m still funemployed and I don’t have to drive to work in the morning. So bring on the snow.
But honestly, this weather that can’t decide what it is that it’s doing needs to be finished.
Or else I’m going to kick its ass. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll figure out a way.
How did you get here?
I really miss having google analytics. That’s the problem with switching to wordpress. Unless there’s someone out there that knows to make google analytics apply to wordpress. I would love you if you could tell me that.
I miss being able to see how people got to my blog, whether it was through someone else’s blog or from a search engine or just because they knew I blogged (although that is like, seriously 4 people). I also miss being able to look at that map and see where people are reading my blog. That was awesome. And slightly creepy.
Anyway.
Lots of people find this blog by googling the term hipsters. And why? Why are you looking up hipsters? You shouldn’t do that. Just walk outside and you will see them, lurking about with their Buddy Holly glasses and sweater vests and meta ways. I’m serious. Just go outside.
But here are some other terms that get people here…
- “Guy sent flowers and grey goose” – Who is this man? Does he want to date me? Because any guy that would send me vodka is kind of like my dream man. You should not let this guy go. He knows what is important in life and totes wants to get into your pants. Save him. Otherwise, I will take him off your hands for you.
- “”With some guy”" – In quotation marks? Are you confused? Who is with some guy?
- “Find me a winner” – Well, it’s not me. You are so in the wrong place. Also, there aren’t many winners out there. Unless you count people that say that they are winners but aren’t actually winners in any sense. Maybe in the special Olympic sense where everyone is a winner.
- “Pug dogs riding in corvette” – WHAAAAAAAT? Who are you?
- “Ungirlfriend girlfriend” – Do not be this girl. It is no fun at all. Unless you want to be the ungirlfriend. In that case, you go and have some fun.
- “I realized i’m part of the problem. not because i remind you. but because i couldn’t join you. so i left you alone. don’t give up, okay?” – What. The. Hell. Why are you typing full thoughts into a search engine? What did you exactly expect to find once you entered this in there. Is this a quote from someone? Why did it lead you here? I don’t think I’ve ever used those words in that order in this blog. I want you to not come back here. Although now that I’ve posted that, you will and I don’t like you.
There should be a test to use the internet. That person that entered the last search term would fail that test.
The perfect interview
Before I go on about what my life SHOULD be like, can I just say how impressed with myself I am? Tonight I went out with a boy that I was very sure that I wouldn’t get along with because he is nice and kind and GOES TO CONFESSION and you know, is a nerd. A big nerd. The D&D, World of Warcraft kind of nerd. Actually, he doesn’t know that he almost lost his head when he mentioned WoW, but seriously, it was close.
But I went out with him and had dinner with him and was nice and polite and told him that I would like to hang out with him again. That part is not a lie. He is really nice. I would not like to date him. He doesn’t know that I would crush him, but I know. He’s the sort of boy I would manipulate until there was nothing left. I realize this and act accordingly. I am win.
Anyway, not what this post is about.
I’ve been on many interviews in the 6 months that I’ve been funemployed. At least 10. Most were okay, one was really terrible and there have been a few good ones. Nothing has landed me the new job that I NEED to keep my sanity about me. I’m waiting, patiently, but I’m getting more frustrated than I was and would really like a job. NOW. PLZ TO HIRE.
Having gone on all these interviews, I have a thought of how my perfect interview would go. It doesn’t involve me walking in the door and having them just hand me a fabulous job (though that would be nice). No, it goes more like this….
I walk into the office, looking fabulous in my suit that I feel awkward in all the time. I don’t need to wear fatass reducing spanx because I am that fabulous. My hair is doing all the things I want it to do and my make up doesn’t look like a 5 year old did it. I am amazing. I smile and everyone just thinks “WOW, we love this girl!”
I walk into the office of the very important and fancy person that makes the decisions in this place. We chat for a few minutes about the weather, or TV, or something else. Very important and fancy person asks me about myself and I tell them about my wonderful education at Alfred and my time at B&N and my crappy job after that and that I was laid off from the job that I loved. I inform them that I have been volunteering with all my free time and love baking more than anything else.
This somehow turns into a discussion about the Venture Bros. And music. And pie. I don’t trip over my words, I come off as bright and charming (I think I’m that way in interviews anyway. Could be wrong though) and I’m wonderful.
I am NOT all socially awkward and unable to think of something smart to say. In fact, I say all the right things. I somehow magically come up with a new business plan for this company. Very important and fancy person is so impressed that they say that they will call me in the next few days.
And in this interview dream of mine, THEY CALL ME. LIKE THEY SAID THAT THEY WOULD. I talk to their HR person, who is actually helpful and they give me a job. I go to work and enjoy it and love it there and everyone loves me. I make enough baked goods to give everyone diabetes, but no one cares because they are just so happy that I am the new member to the team.
Then I find some boy there that is just perfect and we fall in love and OMG perfect wedding.
Okay, maybe not that last part. But I dream of the interview where all goes well, everyone says what they mean and no one tells me that they are “looking to make a decision quickly”, or “needed to have someone yesterday” or “really need to get the ball rolling on this one”. They don’t say that they will contact me in a week with no intentions to do so. They answer the phone when I call.
I know I’ve had too much time by myself when this is my dream. My dream is to have an interview go right. It’s not to meet the man of my dreams or win millions of dollars or cure some terrible illness that is affecting millions or even just make pie crust from scratch.
It’s to have someone like me enough to give me a job.
I need to get out of the house more. Preferably because I have a job. Along those same lines, I need a job so that I can buy more shoes and underpants and concert tickets and unnecessary clothing and stuff for the wedding that I am going to be in and plane tickets and a new gym membership and sessions with my trainer and attachments for the Cuisinart mixer (yeah, I said it. There’s an attachment that you can use to make ice cream. Don’t judge). I also need a job so that I can afford to live. That’s an after thought though.
I just really need the damn shoes.
A choice to be made
Lilo and I were talking today (as we do. All day. Every day. I need more friends, srsly. LUBS LILO) and we got into a discussion about cupcakes and muffins.
I don’t mean what cupcakes and muffins actually are, but metaphorically speaking – cupcakes vs. muffins. It seems so stupid, but it’s not. The question is: do you want to be a cupcake
or do you want to be a muffin?
Muffins and cupcakes, while very much the same, are not. They use mostly the same ingredients, you make them in the same pans, you cook them for about the same amount of time – but they are different. You can’t be making some cupcakes and decide halfway through that you are going to make them muffins instead. Cupcakes are cupcakes and muffins are muffins.
Muffins you eat for breakfast. They are a little bit drier. They have weirdo things like bran in them. Muffins stand alone. You don’t ever have a super excellent muffin that you feel the need to tell everyone about. Or maybe you do. But I don’t.
Cupcakes are treats. People lust after cupcakes. They are sweet and delicious and filled with happiness and joy and kittens. People WANT cupcakes. Everyone LOVES cupcakes. What do you have for your birthday when you’re a kid? Cupcakes. What do a lot of people serve at their weddings? MOTHERFUCKING CUPCAKES.
But being a muffin or a cupcake isn’t about your taste buds. It’s about who you are and what you want. It’s about relationships. No, really.
If you’re a muffin, you don’t want a relationship. You’re fine on your own. You go with the flow, you can find whatever you want wherever you need it. You stand alone as a muffin. Sometimes you have a delightful flavor, but mostly you’re just weird. But you’re okay being a muffin. There isn’t anything wrong with muffins…as long as you know that’s what you want. If you can commit to being a muffin, then you’re okay. You don’t lie about your muffin ways and you don’t pretend like you’re secretly a cupcake.
Cupcakes, on the other hand, are relationships. Cupcakes are two people that compliment each other well combined into a tasty treat. Cupcakes are complex and fun and interesting and when you have a really really really good one, you don’t forget about it. That cupcake sticks with you.
Everyone I know is a cupcake. Sort of. I’m probably more of a super tasty vanilla cupcake. And the guys that I have dated are the frosting to my cupcakes ways (TWSS). So I’ve dated guys that mixed well with my vanilla cupcake self. Lee was wonderful strawberry frosting – sweet and uncomplicated. The worst boyfriend ever was BBQ sauce. That doesn’t go with a vanilla cupcake at all, but if you want to smash them together and pretend like it works, no one is going to stop you. So I’m looking for a boy that’s the frosting that I need to complete my cupcake self. You can date many boys. They all are different flavors. But until you find the frosting you need, you’re just a cupcake without anything.
I’m not a muffin. I’m a cupcake. You can’t change a cupcake into a muffin by just scraping off the frosting and lying through your teeth. The frosting might be gone, but the remnants of it are still there. You can’t erase them by just making them go away. And you can’t decide when you’re in the middle of a cupcake relationship that what you really want is a muffin non-relationship.
You need to know what it is you want when you get started. You need to know what you want to accomplish.
You need to make the choice to be a muffin or a cupcake.
I’m a cupcake – what are you?
WHERE ARE ALL THE PANTS?
I was invited (aren’t I lucky?) to go to a re-employment meeting this week. I was just enraged overjoyed to be invited. Since I was going to this meeting I thought that I should make a good impression and not wear jeans. Khakis seemed like the right kind of pants to wear.
I’m at this weird point where I’m in between sizes. So nothing I own really fits me exactly right. Since the last time I bought khakis I was 2 sizes bigger than I am now, I figured I could splurge from my unemployment budget and buy a pair of khakis. I wouldn’t say that I’m thin by any means, but I’m not quite as fat as I was. I’m at a size that they carry at most reasonable stores. How hard could it be to find khaki pants, I thought?
Oh, and aside from being not a fat size, but not a skinny size either, I’m tall. I generally buy tall pants with a longer inseam so that they will fit. And more stores carry tall pants, so how would that be an issue?
Those were my first two mistakes.
First, Lilo and I went to Kohl’s to find some pants. I kind of love Kohl’s. If you can take the time to look around, you can find some really great things. I’ve gotten a lot of fabulous things there and I thought that I could just find some pants there because I’ve found pants there before. I forgot that all the pants I found were capris. I found some pairs of pants in the right size at Kohl’s and tried them on. FAIL. When pants aren’t long enough, the crotch of the pants is at the wrong place and just looks awkward. And you turn all muffin toppy. So those were out.
I was not discouraged. I was going to go to the mall on Monday. THE MALL. Think of all the stores in the mall! I could totally find pants there because there are so many places that sell pants. It would all be good as far as I was concerned.
3rd mistake.
I went in to all the stores at the mall that I have bought pants from. I went into the Gap, Old Navy, Anne Taylor, Anne Taylor Loft, Macy’s, Lord and Taylor and some other places. NO FUCKING PANTS. NO FUCKING PANTS ANYWHERE. I tried on at least 15 pairs of pants and none of them fit. And why didn’t any of them fit? BECAUSE I WAS TOO TALL. FOR THE PANTS. NO WHERE were there tall sized pants in bigger sizes. NOWHERE was helpful. I left the mall shouting and making all sorts of noise. What good is the mall if I can’t find pants that fit me? FUCK YOU, COMMERCE.
I’ve started my search online for pants. It’s bullshit that I have to resort to the internet to find pants, but whatever. If that’s how you want to play it, stores in the mall, then that’s how you want to play it. I never used to have a problem finding tall pants in stores, but apparently some tall person somewhere in the universe pissed off the pants gods of all these stores and POOF. No more tall pants for you.
I just found a pair of khaki pants online at Old Navy. Sometimes not all of Old Navy’s sizes fit the same way, but I’m taking a chance to see if these pants work. I also found out that Old Navy sells tall pants and long pants. Yes, there is a difference. The long pants are shorter than the tall pants. Who would have ever guessed? Not me, that’s for damn sure.
Now I have learned my lesson. I will never be able to buy pants in a store again because I’m too tall. For pants. Damn you, height. DAMN YOU TO HELL.
And maybe another day I will recount my exciting adventure at the re-employment meeting. Just thinking about it makes my blood boil. How do people like the ones in that meeting actually exist in the real world? I need to know.
