December 31, 2009
A Wench-trospective
So. Let's see how well I did with my 2009 resolutions, and then judge me harshly so the rest of you can all feel superior. What fun!
1. Call my Mom more often, just to make sure she isn't trapped under a pile of Dad's crap. Well, I sucked at this for most of the year, but I've gotten better lately... mainly because I HAVE to call her every other day to see if they're both lying with broken hips in the driveway.
2009 is officially known as The Year of Dad's Grabber, so he's not allowed to touch a snow shovel anymore. Nor is Mom, not that she listens.
Yes, Mommie Dearest, I'm lookin' at you! If you want me to keep calling come spring time, you'd better do as you're told! (I'm pretty sure that resolutions should not include threats and ultimatums, but you don't know this woman! I will handle this!)
2. Keep in touch with my friends better, and not just via Facebook SuperPoke. "Poking" someone or commenting on their status is not the same as calling or even emailing or texting them. So easy to fall back on FB to do all my work for me.
I did have breakfast with Egrau TWICE in the past two months, and I even drove out to North Aurora to see Lola... once. Yeah, I suck. FaceBook is an introvert's wet dream. I'm workin' on it, people!
3. Remember that Husband lets me work part-time so that I can better take care of our affairs while he's working 60 hours a week, so I'd better get off my ass more often and vacuum up all this dog hair. Ahhh, remember the good ol' days when I didn't work? Ha. Yeah. Well. THAT little arrangement has gone the way of the cassette tape.
Thanks to the recession, I went back to whoring fulltime. The dogs are gonna have to vacuum up their own damn hair, and Husband is gonna have to put away his own damn laundry. This resolution requires modification.
4. Get back down to my wedding weight (and bring Husband with me). BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA *huge intake of air* HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
Actually, Husband is doing quite well, ever since he started taking the Metra downtown and walking a mile between the train and work. I'm going to have to start slipping more butter into his food...
5. Turn 40 gracefully and with a HUGE FREAKIN' PARTY. Done and done! I rocked The Paradise, The Casbash AND This Town! So now I need a new #5.
6. Blog every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, even if it's just a paragraph or photo. Pffft. It's more realistic to just lower my standards. And ask you to lower yours. Again, this resolution was created back in the dreamy Me No Work phase of my life.
7. Start writing my damn book already. What the hell am I waiting for?! I'm waiting for everyone in my family to die so that I can write about them without them getting mad at me. Hmmm, I'd better start taking better care of myself if I expect to outlive all these assholes...
8. Print all my photos and get them into albums, regardless of how many people mock me for my old-fashionedness. I have since discovered boxes of photographs that I'd forgotten I had. This goal needs to be altered. It's good to be versitile, right?
9. Start playing piano again, before arthitis starts to set in. Well, I haven't started playing again, but neither has arthritis started to set in. So let's call this one a wash.
10. Take my bucket o' change to the bank and open a savings account for our 2010 trip to Norway. Well, I started the year with $18.99 in our Norway account, which wouldn't even cover the Xanax I'm going to need in order to fly over the Atlantic.
Then the market crashed, and our Norway Account became our Big Screen T.V. Account. Had to set our sights a little lower. Just made another deposit from the change jar, and we're up to nearly a grand! Soon, we'll be watching a documentary on Norway on a 55" screen!
Posted at 11:17 AM | Comments (1)December 28, 2009
In the Bleak Midwinter
This office is a ghost town. No, I take that back. It would be really awesome and much more exciting if there were actual specters around here. As it stands, we are haunted by the empty cubes that are a daily reminder of the people who were laid off and Jesus H. Eggnog-Drinking Christ, when did I get so morbid? Dickens' ghost of Christmas future is going, "Dude, she's such a buzzkill."
Anyhoo, I'm bored, and morbid, so I walked around and took some photos.
These are the signs on the wall in the bathroom.
These are on the wall next to the sink, which is a stupid place for them. No one reads them there because, while we wash our hands, we are busy checking out our hair in the mirror and making sure there's nothing in our teeth from lunch.
The signs should really be posted inside the stalls so that we have something to read while we are doing big potty.
Here is the nativity scene in the main reception area.
Have you ever seen Christmas look so sinister? Mary is wearing a black turtleneck and matchng eyeliner, and Joseph is cutting himself because it is all just TOO MUCH TO HANDLE! And won't everyone just LEAVE HIM ALONE?!
Here are the rest of the decorations in reception.
Sorry for the poor photo quality. It is hard to fit this much holiness in one photo. How many manger scenes can YOU count, boys and girls?
And here is MY contribution to the Christmas spirit.
Snot tissue made from recycled Christmas trees!
No, not really.
Posted at 10:35 AM | Comments (0)December 22, 2009
PhD Boss Entertains Me In His Absence
As funny as PhD boss is in person, somehow, he's even more entertaining when he's not around. I present Exhibit A: The White House Spoon Incident, where he provided for my benefit a fun, little mystery to theorize about while he was out of town.
Yesterday, I took a two-hour lunch because it’s three days ‘til Christmas and who the hell is around to keep track anyway? If you are at work and expecting you or anyone else to get anything done this week, then you are retarded. Go home.
Upon my return, I had TWO calls from PhD on my voicemail. Isn’t that typical? He probably called a minute after I left and a minute before I got back and spent the time in between prepping a good lecture on accountability.
But I needn’t have feared because this was the first message, barely discernable over the background noise:
"Hey, it's me. Um,... I'm in Vegas. Gimme a call back."
And this was the second message:
"Hey. Me again. Uh, I figured it out on this end, so don't call me back."
-- the hell??? He’s supposed to be in Palm Springs with his father!
So I didn't call; I texted him: "omg, you're in vegas?! did you get a quickie marriage?"
As of this hour, I have still not heard back from him. And I am prayed to the Sweet Baby Jeebus that he married some topless dancer. PLEEZ, God, grant me this Christmas miracle, and I promise I will honor hit with the Best Blog Posting Ever! In Jeebus’ name we pray. Amen.
Posted at 11:30 AM | Comments (0)December 18, 2009
Little Wenchies On My Shoulders
A conversation between the little Angel Wench sitting on one shoulder, and the Devil Wench sitting on the other...
AW: Our hair is getting reeeaaally long.
DW: I know. Isn't it awesome? We got two compliments on it today!
AW: It's probably as long as when we got it cut for Locks of Love.
DW: Huh. Maybe. Wow, even our bangs look good lately. Why isn't anyone taking pictures of us? People are always wanting pictures when our bangs are clumpy and curving to the left. Why not now?
AW: You know, if we cut it off right now, we'd still have enough left to make a ponytail.
DW: Really. How fascinating. But I believe it is called a pigtail when it sticks straight out horizontally from one's head.
AW: Am I being too subtle? Read my lips: We should really make another Locks of Love donation.
DW: Why?
AW: We have almost two feet of hair! What else are we going to do with it?
DW: Preen. And bask in the compliments. And preen.
AW: An admirable goal, I'm sure.
DW: Clearly, you do not remember the emotional anguish of The Bob. The rending of garments? The eating of ash? Any of this ringing a bell?
AW: What's more important -- your vanity, or a little, bald child with leukemia?
DW: Well, I know what I'm supposed to say...
AW: A little, bald girl with huge eyes and inch-long eyelashes, clutching a plushie unicorn, telling Santa all she wants for Christmas is hair.
DW: Aaahhh'm just not feelin' it.
AW: You're a horrible person.
DW: Hmm. I think we'll wear our hair in a ponytail tomorrow.
Posted at 03:01 PM | Comments (1)December 10, 2009
The Plan of Attack
Okay. I talked with Head first thing Tuesday morning to broach the idea that I'm being discriminated against because of my socio-economic status. He said that, yeah, that's probably the case, but HaRpie #1 hadn't come right out and said that she wants to give the job to someone needier.
She mentioned some single mom who is going to be out on the street and can't afford to buy milk for her kids, but only in the context of "We need to give laid-off fulltime employees preferential treatment." Which is still a complete load of crap, but whatever. Hey, I need to buy a WEDDING for my stepdaughter, but you don't see me cryin' about it! Go steal the damn milk if you need it that bad. Sheesh!
Anyhoo, unless we can actually get her to say that some specific person "needs" this job more than me, proving discrimination is going to be hard. And I think the HaRpies are too clever to let themselves be caught doing anything illegal. But Head is going to keep his ears open for an opportunity.
In the meantime, he DOES have a plan to stick it to the HaRpies, based on our organization's current financial situation, which is -- according to an email sent out on Monday -- worse than our "worst scenario" predictions. So on Wednesday, there was a meeting of executives, discussing another 5% budget cut. More on that in a moment.
Now, in HR's move to bring back this supposedly homeless single mom to the fold, HaRpie #1 went to Vice Treasurer and magically had enough money put back in our departmental budget to hire a fulltime, benefitted employee to replace me. Nice, huh? No money to pay Wenchie what she's worth, but plenty of money available to boot her ass out! And what the hell alternate dimension are they summoning money from for our budget??? Fuckers.
So at the meeting on Wednesday, all the executives were instructed to bring line-by-line specific numbers and explain exactly how they are going to cut still more money from the bone. Well. In front of God and HaRpie #2 and Vice Treasurer and everyone, Head said the following:
"I have already cancelled two trips I was scheduled to take in January. And we are going to have Wenchie remain with us on contract, rather than hiring a permanant person to replace her."
Without batting an eye. God, I wish I could have been a fly on the wall! Needless to say, no one dared to challenge his excellent money-saving strategy.
Now, this doesn't solve the problem of me continuing to work for peanuts. And it WOULD be nice if they got the money to hire someone permanantly, and that person was ME -- but still, this is better than nothing. It at least buys us some time. And once I am established, perhaps we can work on the more-money thing.
Also, apparently, even tho' I haven't actually SEEN this contract, a contract has been drawn up, and I am officially not a temp anymore. I am "contract." Which means nothing, except that I don't have to clean out my desk today. Yes, I am going to demand a copy of said contract, if only to be an asshole because HR are SUCH fucking sticklers about all their little made-up rules.
Anyhoo, I know this contract thing is effective because HaRpie #2 informed Head that, now that I am contract, I can work five days a week if I want. Now, I don't really want to. I have a principle -- if I'm not getting benefits outta you, you're not getting fulltime outta me. However, I kinda think that this is a test, for HR to see just how serious I am about this position.
Luckily, Head was like, "Well, she's not going to in December because there's so much holiday stuff going on!" But come January, I am going to work five days a week, just to prove to the HaRpies that, yes, I do, in fact, NEED this job, despite my affluent-suburb area code.
It's still complete crap that I should have to prove ANYTHING other than the fact that I am damn good at my job, but whatever. If it'll keep the wolf from our door, I'll do it. However, despite having won this battle, I have no delusions that we have won the war.
Don't let them put the blender away, JB!
Posted at 05:24 PM | Comments (1)December 07, 2009
Professional Placeholder
Being a temp, my position is always precarious. And my work friend, JB, knows she's leaving this summer because her husband, a pastor, will be getting hired at a church God-knows-where. So we made a pact -- on the last day of employment for whichever one of us leaves first, we are having a multiple-margarita lunch.
[Even though it has no relevence to the story whatsoever, I'd like to note here that I have seen JB's pastor-husband shake his ass on the dance floor.]
Well, my last day is February 15. Mark your calendar, JB! Actually, mark it for Friday the 12th, cuz I ain't comin' in on no Monday. However, I also reserve the right to call you AT ANY TIME for margaritas because -- who knows! My last day could be tomorrow, depending on what Her Majesties in HR decide.
Apparently, there's some rule on our books that you can't keep a temp person on indefinitely. This, as you may imagine, is news to me, since I will be celebrating my three year anniversary of when I started working here, on the day I am also drowning my sorrows in margaritas. But perhaps they mean per position and not cumulatively? Well, either way it's a bullshit made-up rule because this is not the longest I've ever worked in the same position.
Bottom line is, the HR harpies (HaRpies?) have decided I've been here long enough and have to go. Mind you, they gave no heads-up or two-week warning to the Head of my Department. They merely told him to boot me out.
And since they were keeping Head in the dark anyway, the HaRpies also went to the office of the treasurer and got money put back in our budget to reinstate my position back to a full-time position with benefits.
Great news, Wenchie! You'll be able to start hitting the outlet malls again!
Oh, not so fast, my little eager beavers. There's always a catch, remember? And the catch is -- I'm not allowed to apply for my own job! My bosses aren't allowed to hire me to do the job I'm already doing! Of course! Why would they be allowed to pick their own support person? This is the CHURCH, for Jeebus' sake! We have to think about the children, or the terrorists have already won!
In the lengthy talk that Head had with me (I am really so grateful to him for being really honest and telling me everything, including how angry he is!), he mentioned that HaRpie #1 had given him some sob story about some former employee who was let go recently and is single with several kids and can't afford to buy milk, or some such thing. So MY job has been ear-marked for her. I am now, officially, just a placeholder. Like those people who sit in the seats of people who have to go pee during the Oscars? Only way less glamorous.
Needless to say (but I'm gonna say it anyway, you know I am), Head is extremely upset and is totally fighting this. PhD Boss is livid and feels extremely helpless because all this is going on while he's out of the country for several weeks. And I'm upset because I have EARNED this job, and their trust, and their respect, but apparently, I'm not WORTHY because I'm not poor enough. I'm just a rich, surburban housewife who works so that I'm not reaching for the vodka at 10:00 a.m. Right?
Is this even legal? Can I get a ruling on this?
HaRpie #1 wanted me gone effective immediately, since Friday marked the end of my sixth month in this position, but Head is trying to convince them to make me "contract" so I can stay on, since I can't stay on as a temp, according to the new rule. That would at least buy us some time, during which I could hire a hitman to off both HaRpies.
Currently, they are considering letting me be on contract, but only until February 15th, which is when the benefits run out for the people who were laid off. So basically, Single Mom gets a nice, three-month vacation while I keep her chair warm, and then I'm tossed aside like used Kleenex.
"Nothing is settled!"
"Everything is up in the air!"
"We're not giving up!"
So say Head and PhD Boss and Bea. But I've dealt with HR before, and I know in my heart that the HaRpies have already promised my job to their little Single Mom Pet Project. I am gonna be celebrating Valentine's Day by packing up my desk.
I wonder if Hallmark makes a card for that?
Posted at 02:11 PM | Comments (3)December 04, 2009
Keepin' It Fresh. And Real.
So, yeah, I'm on FaceBook. Where I am Wenchala McPirate because FaceBook, in it's infinite wisdom, wouldn't accept Pirate Wench as a valid name. (It's apparently some guy's shitty job to sit in a room and "review" names all day, and he didn't like any of the first five variations on Wench that I tried.)
[Also? I love that they're like, "Not the Wenchala McPirate you're looking for? Search for others!" Won't the real Slim Shady please stand up? Dudes. Pretty sure there are no other idiots going around calling themselves Wenchala McPirate.]
I confess, in a desperate bid for your affection, I have for years been trying to come up with a gimmick to set my blog apart for the thou-billion others. But they're all taken. Food, sex, photos, religion, politics, weight-loss, motherhood, celebs, making fun of other blogs -- it's all been done. By the time I entered the blogging world, Dooce had already been fired, and Julie Powell had already cooked her way through Julia Child's cookbook.
You guys, Dooce's fucking DOG has his own calendar for sale. Is it so wrong to long for my tiny, tiny sliver of adoration? Does it make me a bad person to be a whoring whore who whores for your love?
Don't answer that. It's rhetorical.
Here's my criteria for Wenchie's New Gimmick:
1. Must allow me to be even more creative than I already am.
2. Must allow me to connect with my beloved flying monkeys on a daily basis.
3. Must require very little effort from me.
The obvious solution? Daily photos!
Now, I know that my blog already features posts that are photo-based, but they require cutting and pasting and cropping and resizing and uploading and are generally in complete opposition to criteria item number three. Therefore, the photos that I will feature daily on my FaceBook page will be taken with my lovely and talented phone. So not only will they be poor-quality photos of completely stupid things, they will be even MORE blurry and retarded than everyone else's!
And there, my friends, is my gimmick. Completely shitty photography of things you wish you could erase from your brain. And no, it's not going to be like "outsider art" where it's so crappy that it's somehow profound. It's just going to be plain, ol' crappy. My gift to YOU, world!
In fact, I guarantee that you will look at these photos and feel a warm, smug glow of self-satisfaction when you think to yourself -- Jeebus on a bicycle, not only do I take better pictures, but my life is SO much more interesting. Just knowing how lame Wenchie is makes me feel better about myself. Thank you, Wenchie!
You're welcome, my darlings. You're welcome.
Took me ten minutes on Thesaurus.com to come up with a Wench-worthy name for my ***NEW FEATURE***. Contenders included Slapdash Snapshots, Incidental Images, and Wenchie's Totally Gay Photos. But I finally settled on...
*** ARBITRARY APERTURE ***
Nice, huh?
In short -- *snort* when have I ever made anything short?! -- go Friend me on FaceBook and vastly improve your life. You won't regret it!
P.S. Well, duh, the photos will be accompanied by snarky comments. Like I could help myself!
Posted at 11:01 AM | Comments (2)December 01, 2009
O.C.D. Scorpios Beware!
Today's horoscope has me PANICKING!!!
If they see any errors, don't be defensive -- just fix what needs to be fixed and be grateful you caught it in time. It won't take very much of your time to double-check your to-do list, and it might even pay to have someone else look it over for you just in case. Run your info by someone you trust, preferably a friend or close family member. If you don't take the time to cover all of your bases now, a tiny little detail could come back and bite you later.
Are you kidding me?! How can they be so non-chalant about "run your info by someone you trust" and "a tiny little detail could come back and bite you?" Thank you, Yahoo, for sending this anal-retentive water sign into a total tailspin. You ruined my morning. Bastards.
While I was getting ready this morning, I made a list of things I need to do and errands I need to run tomorrow.
WHAT IF I'M FORGETTING SOMETHING AND I PISS OFF SOMEONE WHO IS DEPENDING ON ME FOR SOMETHING???
Immediately upon arriving at work, I made a list of all the stores I need to visit at Woodfield.
WHAT IF I SKIP A STORE AND NEED TO GO BACK?! TO WOODFIELD! IN DECEMBER, FOR GAWD'S SAKE!
You see what this is doing to me? And just now, I emailed myself three more reminders. And wrote one on my hand. Because, yeah, tomorrow is pretty much my last day on earth, and I want to make sure that Jeebus doesn't have to look at dog hair on my floors when the rapture comes. He didn't die so that I could forget a Christmas gift for my nephew!
What if I run around all day, and tomorrow night, as I'm falling asleep, I remember one more thing I should have done? The whole day will be RUINED! All that effort for NOTHING!
Oh who am I kidding? I'm not falling asleep. Ever again.
Posted at 11:31 AM | Comments (0)