Things That Are Yelled At Me On the Way To Work

Old man, sitting on a stoop: "Oh My Gawd! You'se a baby! You looks like you could be in junior high!"

I guess I gave my age away with my caffeine-starved, "I'm late for a job I hate" crazy eyes.


That's me many years ago with my super dorky friend that I pretend not to know on the left and that's Mandy Moore on the right. If only I'd ditched the stupid tie and gone for the polo shirt look, I could've been as famous as Mandy :(

Custody battle

True story:


http://www.battleofmarianna.net/index.html

i scream!

i'm not going to complain about my job anymore. because if i complain, then it means i care. and i do not care for these light traffickers. or spoons: the things between the ice cream and your tongue.

just cut out the middle man. lick that ice cream. don't let the cold metal affect the taste.




onwards and upwards.

overhang?

i'm grateful for my friends who set me straight on the difference between crack and coke.

SHUT UP SIRENS. i have a headache. maybe a hangover. i can't tell but i feel weird. it could be the copious amounts of mexican food lard in my bloodstream or the margarita sugar high that i'm finally starting to come down from 12 hours later. I DON'T KNOW. but stop with the loud noises.


anyway, other things i'm grateful for: the dark knight. finally a summer movie that is worth the weird spelling of a word like "hype." hipe? ...eh, not so much. greeting a friend: oh, hye! bye! aye, captain! whye?

thank friday it's god. really because without the promise of the weekend, i wouldn't believe in god.

i'm dying at work, obviously. i hear spinach is good for hangovers.

A Lumbergh moment

why is it that everyone above me approaches my desk with their coffee mug and starts out with, "Sooo, MB?...I need you to _________" except they don't say MB and they insist on butchering the pronunciation of my name.


I just find it so amazing that people give me stuff to do, like opening up a box, inspecting a shipment and "preparing it for display" when doing the first thing would take 20 seconds for them to do themselves and the latter 2 things, I have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to be looking for/doing and I'm pretty sure that it's not going to get done until after lunch b/c i have 2039432049 gazillion other things everyone else has asked me to do. I realized during the morning meeting, I'm the person in this place that does the most work--which I wouldn't mind terribly except that whenever anyone FORGETS to give me their work to do, I get blamed for it. Clairvoyancey wasn't in the Craigslist post.

I'm so sick of everything here that I made a pathetic cry for help by trying to hole-punch my right index finger...actually it was an accident, but in retrospect, if I hadn't been daydreaming of waiting tables it probably wouldn't have happened. I briefly cursed myself for not actually punch a hole through my finger because that would've meant something exciting in this vapid, light-trafficking world would have happened and I would've gotten a ride in an ambulance out of it.

:( :(

I could just do that all day.

Food that is good

Cashew butter + strawberry preserves + english muffin

i never thought i'd say this, but peanut butter sucks.

but $7/jar? really?

Americans have priorities

Yesterday and today's most emailed NYTimes story:


Chocolate Chip Cookies

“First there’s the crunchy outside inch or so,” he said. A nibble revealed a crackle to the bite and a distinct flavor of butter and caramel. “Then there’s the center, which is soft.” A bull’s-eye the size of a half-dollar yielded easily.

“But the real magic,” he added, “is the one-and-a-half-inch ring between them where the two textures and all the flavors mix.”

Re: chocolate chunks...

"Break apart a Torres cookie, and a curious thing happens. Inside aren’t chunks of chocolate, but rather thin, dark strata. “I use a couverture chocolate, because it melts beautifully,” he explained, something traditional chips don’t do. Couverture is a coating chocolate used, for instance, for covering truffles. To get his trademark layers, Mr. Torres has his chocolate, which is manufactured by the Belgium company Belcolade, made into quarter-size disks — easily five times the volume of a typical commercial chip. Because the disks are flat and melt superbly, the result, he said, is layers of chocolate and cookie in every bite."

I've had a strata-like cookie and I don't like it so much. I think the chunks are the best part. Still, I'd eat it.

12 stop recipes

It takes me 12 stops on the F train to get home from work. I found a way to reconcile Gluttonous MB with Masochistic MB when I challenged myself to come up with a new recipe for a favorite food by the time I arrived at each new station. The meal evolves with every stop and eventually by the time I get home, it's obnoxiously disgusting and reminiscent of how I used to cook when I was six.



7/9/08. Grilled Cheese.

1. Grilled brie and blueberries on multigrain
2. Cream cheese, pizza sauce, Tabasco, bell peppers and onions on foccacia
3. Grilled mexican shredded cheese and Tabasco with fresh pineapple on white
4. Grilled mexican shredded cheese with salsa, Tabasco, olives, and spinach on multigrain
5. Grilled mozzarella with raspberries and blueberries on english muffin
6. Grilled provolone with avocado and Tabasco on wheat
7. Grilled swiss with avocado on rye
8. Grilled brie and green apple on cinnamon swirl
9. Grilled feta with tomatos, bit of hummus, and spinach on croissant
10. Grilled feta with peaches (ew, what?) on wheat
11. Grilled american with peanutbutter--GROSS
12. Grilled bleu cheese with 99% cacao chocolate on pumpernickel--V. GROSS

...maybe for that last one it would work better if the cheese was cream cheese? ..no? yeah, me too

How to get fired...a fantasy

If I want to speed up the firing process, this would be a good place to start...

When a diabolical designer with thick eyeliner and six inch heels walks in and foreshadows a future of being bitched at, you say, "Lady, they're lights. LIGHTS. Edison invented them out of necessity---not your kind of "necessity" of owning stuff, like your Louboutin heels and your condo at the Plaza, but the necessity of a 13 year-old in Africa who can spend an hour in the evening to do homework after he spends all of his daylight walking two miles to get clean water and harvesting rice for his family's dinner. If you want your lights to look fancy, fine. Spend $16,000 for a pair of sconces, but don't think that includes the entertainment of being able to walk all over the person who's helping you get the stupid lights---because no matter how much money you spend on electricity to pass through a filament of tungsten, you are NOT entitled to act as though you are better then me. I will cut you with your gold Amex card, bitch.

And...your Botox makes you look jowly. Like this guy:


Just thought you should know."

drinks with the company dominatrix

Yesterday was total crap at work. We found out that morning that we were closing at 3 (yay) but then everybody decided to give me their work to do all at once so I was out of my mind all day. Finally, it was 3 and some coworkers went to get drinks, which I was totally thrilled about---

Fast forward 7 hours, I'm laying on tar rooftop in Chelsea with two coworkers who cannot keep their hands off eachother--nevermind that both have a husband/boyfriend, I guess it's not cheating if you're bi--after being kicked out of a bar because one of them tried to choke a guy in the men's room by wrapping her legs around his neck and slamming his head into the wall (the guy totally loved it, but the management didn't)! After one of them started agonizing over whether she should take a weekend job as a cleaning maid in lingerie, the other told of her experience running a dominatrix dungeon and how she'd often go there on her lunch breaks at the place i work, do a quick job, make $300, and go back to work. Her source of income took a serious hit when the dungeon was closed due to a guy who went there and liked to have his fun while tying a noose around his neck and wearing high heels. Well one night, he fell off the high heels and into a coma. He woke up a week later without any brain damage, but that was the end of the dungeon. (If I could make up stories like this, I wouldn't be somebody's assistant)

Then my coworker got really sad because she missed the place and then i HAD to find out how she started out doing it--

And I don't really have the space or time to explain what was a really compelling story, also I'm not about to put that in a blog.

Then it came out that at my company, it's tradition to get the new assistant to makeout with everyone in the company. Maybe even bring them to the dominatrix dungeon. And go to strip clubs on lunch breaks. Maybe do some coke in the workshop--you know, whatev.

Anyway, I paid for a large share of their drinks because they wanted to skip out on the bill but then we got asked to leave as i was signing the receipt--I was about to make an excuse that I had to leave to see someone but REALLY? this was just too much to leave-- Then somehow we went into an abandoned building, climbed to the top, then they decided to break into an adjacent apartment building, despite multiple residents seeing us (due to the fact that my coworkers were screaming) and pulling out phones, which I pointed out to my coworkers, but that only fueled their desire to climb to the top of a 30 story condo, at which point I was liek "oh haha, my friend just texted me! guess I should go and meet them! later! you guys have fun!"

and then I was so happy to see my F train come pick me up and bring me home to PSlope.

Monday is going to be an interesting day at work.