It's Not Personal. It's Business. (But, I'm Still Hurt)

Things are going well for me in Satan's Workshop. I did end up having my meeting after all. I found out 10 minutes before it happened, so there wasn't time to pop another Tums. I wish that they'd done this to me from the beginning. That way I wouldn't have lost sleep and half my stomach lining Monday night and Tuesday morning due to extreme anxiety. I didn't think that I was going to get fired (although there is always that finger of doubt that runs a nail up your spine) but, I was nervous just the same. The P's have never taken a meeting with me all together. Never! This was enough for my stomach to begin eating itself and part of my esophagus. Then the meeting was cancelled and then it was back on....oh the agony!

But, I made it through, unscathed and with a bit (a tiny, tiny bit) more jingle in my pocket. (Duly earned, lovers. I've never had a raise). I got lots of praise as we gabbed over dinner and I was even (shocker!!!) asked for advice. The P's love me! They really love me! This was the validation that I have been desperately seeking for 2 years!

The only wrinkle in this whole fairy tale was a missing P. The absence of this P made this all a little bittersweet. You see, this P was the one that I really needed to hear most of this stuff from. This P is the one that I need to know had just a tad bit of respect for me. (If you are a faithful reader, you can probably guess which P this is). It would have meant the world to me if this P had just shown up and given a little praise. But, alas, he had "something else to do".

Big K says that I'm taking this a bit too personally. He's right. I know. It's business. It's not personal. But, I can't help it. I give this P everything I've got and he can't even make it to one little dinner that lasted less than two hours? What about the 4 hours that I spent one Sunday putting together a file for him because he need to have it on Monday for a 9 AM meeting? Or when I stay late, work weekends, take calls at night or on weekends or during my free time? Maybe the next time I might have "something else to do". It's so frustrating to feel unappreciated by someone you try to please 150% of the time. My ego, that was pleasantly puffed up by the other P's, is a bit bruised right now. Even if the P had a good reason to miss the dinner, he's had over 12 hours to call me and give me an "Atta Boy". Oh, I've gotten some calls. No "Atta Boy."

I'm trying hard not to pout (this happens) or act like a silly girl (I have a vagina so it's hard to stop sometimes). I'm trying to be a big girl and act professional. But, I'm feeling a bit wounded. It's tough to play with the big boys and not get hurt.

Do any of you guys have some testosterone that you could lend me?

Random Mindless Stuff

It's Random Tuesday, people!
If you're wearing panties, take 'em off! That's how it's done around here!

• Partner #2 has a flat screen TV with cable and a huge leather couch in his office. I wonder what he would do if he showed up one afternoon and I was lounging with my feet on the coffee table, eating Doritoes and watching Oprah. Not that I like Oprah, but it's the only thing that I know is on during the afternoon. I'm ignorant in the ways of daytime television.
• I have intense hatred towards Rachel Ray. Her perkiness makes me irritable and her cute little catch phrases make me puke (EVOO, DEEE-LISH). In spite of that, I cannot tear myself away from her 30 Minute Meals show on the Food Network. She makes some awesome recipes!
• Fancy Pants has a new game. He comes into my office, grabs some paperclips out of the dispenser on my desk and tries to throw them down my shirt one by one. This is especially fun for him when I'm on the phone. There are tons of paperclips all over the floor of my office. He misses alot.
• I also have some pennies on the floor underneath my chair mat. This is an old brothel trick that I read about. "Money on the floor, means money thru the door." I just started it last week. I'll let you know if it works.
• I re-read my list of New Years Resolutions. I haven't followed any of them, including that cool book that I posted about and planned to do all the Daring projects. I promise to start that next week. I'm such a slacker.
• The Partner's have asked me to go out to dinner with them tonight. This is the first time in the 2 1/2 years of my employment that I've met with all of them at once. I told Partner #1 if they were planning on firing me they should do it in the office. He laughed and said that was not happening. They just want the pleasure of my company. Bullshit! I hate going into meeting blind. I'm shitting myself right now.
• One of the women in my yoga class is a well known artist and owns two galleries. She came up to me after class yesterday and asked me if I would consider posing nude for her. She said that she liked my muscle tone, I had an interesting face and beautiful hair. She also wants me to pose for her classes. She's willing to pay me $80 a sitting. If I was looking for body validation, I've got it now!
• Partner #3 just rescheduled tonight's dinner. This is a good thing. I'm running out of Tums.

And that's some randomness, lovers. Keep you're panties off!

Hollywood Thinks I'm A Fattie

I will admit that I'm not in the best shape. I have a slight Christmas Package (that's the fat that hangs out just under your abs), my thighs have the faint rippling of cellulite and my ass could use a serious overhaul. I wouldn't wear a bikini if you paid me a million bucks and promised me a weekend of passion with Vin Diesel and Jason Statham at a posh resort in the Caribbean. No way, no how, not happening.

Aside from that fact that fate dealt me a mean punch and choose not to bless me with bodacious Ta Ta's,(I got zip in that department) I feel pretty good about my body. I'm very strong. Freakishly strong. I enjoy "wowing" people with my strength. I'm also deceptionally heavy. Muscle weighs more than fat, right? Well, the next time you see me try to pick me up. You might just throw your back out. Big K scooped me up to carry me over the threshold on our wedding night and nearly slipped a disk. Densely packed. That's what I am.

I'm convinced that everything in Victoria's Secret is made for people who have big boobs, no shoulders and weigh under 100 pounds. Not only am I bitter that they never carry my bra size (36A is not that bizarre, Vicki) but all the fun outfits make me look like a ballerina on steroids. I was there this past weekend. After becoming thoroughly disgusted that they didn't even have one bra in my size (even the ugly cotton ones) I decided to check out the naughty section of the store. Every outfit I tried on made me hate my body. If I was TH and saw my wife dressed in that, my penis would curl up behind my balls and never come out. Thankfully, TH has a fetish for boy shorts and tiny tees. I look cute in those. Vicki, you're a big bitch. Why can't you make something that fits us big gals with little boobs.

I blame Hollywood for my body obsession. Sure, I want to look like Jennifer Aniston. But, I will need a personal trainer to come to my house everyday, a private yoga instructor, a chef, a trip to the spa every other week and a weekly body polish and facial. Not to mention a fabulous wardrobe.

Every time I open a Vogue, Cosmo or Vanity Fair I become more and more enraged. It's just not fair. I starve myself, work myself into a lather kickboxing and using the torture machines at the gym and I STILL can't come close to those women. It took this ad to make me feel better.
This is Jessica Alba in an ad for Campari. The picture on the left is real. The picture on the right is airbrush. Of course, they used the airbrushed one. The chick just had a baby and she looks unbelievable in the real picture. But, the assholes in the art department needed to make her waist impossibly small and her thighs impossibly slim. If I had just seen the doctored picture I would have thrown myself under a bus.

The motherfuckers need to stop fucking with us girls. Now if you will excuse me, I'm still going to throw myself under that bus.

Short Shooter

I will not break my promise to TH and elaborate on this topic. All I have to say is - Been There....Done That!!! EWWWWW!!!!!

Guys, I know that this happens. It's almost as embarassing as Whiskey Dick (this is when you're so drunk you lose the wind in your sails) Been there too!!

Firecrotch gets the credit for finding this video. Girlfriend is the ultimate internet surfer!!! She also likes me to mention her on my blog. She feels it makes her famous. Which, she kinda is now.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4pXfHLUlZf4

Have a wonderful weekend, lovers! May your pants stay unstained!

Letters of Frustration

Dear Annoying Woman Who Stands In Front of Me During Kickboxing,

I hate you. Please quit the class.

And it's not just me. We all loath you. We've talked about it after class while you're kissing the instructors ass and then bouncing out the door. We hate how you brag that you use to be an instructor but would rather just take the classes now. We hate your perky Jane Fonda on speed attitude and the way you yell "Come on Girls" and "WHeeeeew!!!!" as you clap your hands 10-15 times during the class. A class that you're not teaching. Yes, that's right. You are not the instructor. The guy with the very nice ass standing infront of the class is. No one wants you to speak. We're all trying to make it through the class without kicking our neighbor by mistake or vomiting on ourselves. We kindly ask you to stop dancing around after the class is over and join the rest of us as we are trying to heave air into our oxygen starved lungs.

Sincerely, The Women Who Stands Behind You and Will Place a Well Aimed Front Kick Up Your Ass If You Don't Shut The Hell Up.

PS. I'm pretty sure that you use to be an instructor a loooooooong time ago because....damn girl.....your ass is four times as big as mine.

Dear Hunky Brazilian Guy At the Gym Who Likes to Stare At Me While I'm Working Out,

Please stop.

I realize that the sight of me wearing dingy sweats and old stained tshirt must be too magical for words. My red face as I strain on the machines of torture must set your loins aflame. But, your constant leering is distracting and makes me a bit uncomfortable. The sight of you peering around the corner as I'm executing a series of lunges requires me to restrain from throwing a dumbbell at you. I know that our relationship has lasted for 2 years and 2 gyms. But, it time for it to end. I hate to be forceful, but I feel that is the only way you will stop your obvious drooling. Please look over to your left. See that giant guy in the sweatshirt, sweatpants and Budweiser racing hat. The guy who is about to bench press a zillion pounds. That is my husband. If you don't stop staring at me I will have him break you in two.

Thank you
The Girl That You Stare At EVERYDAY with Your Friends.

Dear Grumpy Asshole Who Jogs Through My Neighborhood,

Why won't you wave at me?

Every morning, FOR SIX MONTHS, I pass you on my way to work. Every morning, I smile and wave as I pass. I realize that you wouldn't just wave to anyone who passes you. But, Sir....I pass you EVERYDAY!! I understood that maybe you might have been hesitant for the first few weeks. After all, it maybe unsettling to have a strange, super smiley woman wave at you as you are jogging by. But, it has been SIX MONTHS, dude. We have a relationship now. I have more face time with you than I've had with my best friend in 2 years! I have passed you about 120 times. Each pass lasts about 3 seconds (4 if I'm going over one of those speed bumps in our association). If my math is correct, we have spent 6 whole minutes together. I've cultivated relationships in the deli line in less time. And don't tell me that you're too focused or tired to wave. I'm a runner. Even if I'm coughing up a lung, I will return a wave.

You should know that you've hurt my feelings.

Sincerely, The Woman in the Black Jetta Who Is Suppressing the Urge To Run You Over For Being Rude.

Behold, My Randomness.

I'm starting that Random Tuesday thing. Why? 'Cause it's easy, cause I'm cheap and cause I can say a whole bunch of random raunchy stuff and not have to back it up with a whole post.

• My Brazilian waxer (aka The Wax Natzi) has started using diaper cream as a post-wax soother. The shit works great! It's kinda creepy smelling though. I almost feel as if I've been diapered.
• I recently had a naughty dream about someone I work with. I enjoyed the dream at the time, but was nearly sick when I woke up. Fuck suppressed desires. There was NO WAY I wanted that! Now, when I see him in the hall I feel gross.
• I have discovered that I love pomegranate seeds just in time for the pomegranate season to end. Now I can't find them anywhere.
• I was watching "Friends" re-runs the other day and realized that they never locked their apartment doors. They live in New York. Don't they worry about crime.
• I have to stop sleeping in so late on Sundays. It feels great, but it fucks up my body clock. I prowl around the house into the wee hours on Monday morning, fully awake and bored outta my mind. Then I have to wake up at 7AM for work. It takes me 2 days to get back in to the swing of things.
• I have been craving half sour dill pickle spears for 6 solid months. I recently ate an entire jar in one sitting. (FYI - do not do this! You will spend hours in the bathroom afterwards). My favorite lunch spot has the best ones. They have gotten accustom to my ordering a sandwich with a side of 7 pickles.
• I'm jealous of people who can skateboard. I've tried dozens of times and just can't get the hang of it. I figure if a dog could do it, why can't I?
• I have signed up for Google Analytic. I'm now obsessed with tracking stuff on my blog. Hello all you lurkers! I see you now!
• There is a waterspout in the ladies bathroom. I'm assuming that it is meant to be turned on when you clean the floors and it will all flow to the drain in the floor. The cleaning crew doesn't use it and I've been dying to see what would happen if you turned it on. (This is why I should never be alone with a "wet paint" sign) Yesterday, my curiosity got the best of me and I slowly twisted the handle. The foulest smelling, most disgusting, gunky blue water shot out of it and onto the floor.
• My in-laws got us a super fancy electric toothbrush kit for Valentines Day (we're all about practical gifts. They gave us new windows for the house for TH's birthday). I get turned on when I use it. I'm not quite sure why massaging my gums gets me going, but it works. I'm starting to think anything that vibrates will work for me.

A Sassy Questionnarie....

Lola, my lover over at Sassy Mama Says tagged me with a meme. I'm guessing it was suppose to be done on V-day. But as you all read, I was on strike from anything romantic. But, here is a questionnaire that may interest you. It's alittle background on TH and how he and I came to be. Lola was sure I, and the other victims she chose, would tell her to fuck off. My dearest Miss Sassy Pants, when would I ever not heed your call. Especially if I can get a good post outta it!

Where did the two of you meet?

He was one of my clients. Not at my present company, but at the one of the worst jobs I've ever held.

What was the first thought that went through your head when you first met him?

"OMG! Look how hot his ass looks in those white jeans." Yes, he was a fashion victim, even back then. He still claims he's going to wear denim on denim when he loses enough weight to fit into his old jean jacket. If that ever happens, that jacket willgo missing.

Do you remember what he was wearing?

White Jeans, baby blue denim button down work shirt, workboots and he had a mullet. Don't worry, he's had a serious fashion overhaul since then.

Where did you go for your first date?

We never really had an official first date. We were friends who went to out to dinner and then sat in a parking lot overlooking the Cape Cod Canal.

Where was the first time you kissed?

In that parking lot, overlooking the Canal. He was pretending to tickle me (as a friend) and our lips happen to meet. After that it became "NC-17" rated.

When was the first time you realized you liked him?

When we ran into each other at the mall and spent 3 hours talking on a bench while Christmas shoppers walked by. (This happened before dinner and the Canal)

How long did you know him before you became a couple?

This is kind of a grey area. I'm gonna say 6 months.

How did he propose to you?

This story will have its own blog entry....soon

Do you have kids together?

Two four -legged ones. Yes, they count

Have you ever broken the law together?

I wouldn't say we've "broken" the law. It's more we skirted around the edges of it. I can open a bottle of beer with a seat belt buckle if that gives anyone a better idea. (He taught me that)

Do you trust him?

With my life, yes. With other things, sometimes.

Do you see him as your partner in your future?

I can't imagine my life without him.

What is the best gift he gave you?

He FINALLY married me. (This will be explained more in my "How He Proposed" entry.

What is one thing he does that gets on your nerves?

I only get one thing? Hmmmmm......I hate that he's so laisse faire when it comes to being tidy around the house. Picking up after him all the time gets old real fast. He is such a slob!

Where do you see each other 15 years from now?

Same thing. Maybe living in a nicer house in a different neighborhood.

What causes the most arguments?

His family. He's a does EVERYTHING they tell him to do. I refuse to let them have control over me. I will not "jump" when they say "jump".

How long have you been together?

11 years (1 1/4 of them married)

So there it is. A quick bit about TH and I. Not so revealing as my other entries. But, I have to be PG-13 sometimes. It gives you guys a little breather.