LONGEST FRIDAY EVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

rawr.

Target Practice

Cheers to The Butler, you can tell your parents that the private school education has paid off: she'll be interviewing the next 10 prospective MALE employees for the department.

She beat our VP in a drunken game of darts.

Well done, well done.

Now let's get to business. After assessing each candidate's physical features, they will be grilled for the following:

• significant other
• current living arrangements
• life goals
• willingness to dump significant other (employees at The Office only date from within The Office)
• quirks/habits
  

Happy Hour

Every hour is a happy hour. Smile and Dial! And right now it's 5 o'clock somewhere...as in somewhere over the Atlantic.


Cube Chat: "...what's that Will Ferrel movie again? * ugh that movie is so depressing!* wait, what Will Ferrel movie is depressing??*

Jersey Shore Jitters

...what if Snooki doesn't show up tomorrow?

Avid horoscope reader and soothsayer, HookerJones, has a bad feeling about the big event (after all, Lil Wayne did stand her up 3 times - who could blame this jaded damsel?)

But C-dawg and B-fab did their best to calm her.

Basically it sounds like we're "having a f*cking party" over on this side of the floor. Sorry My Homie that I couldn't back you up for that verbal assault.

Speaking of verbal assault...


WANTED. BUCKWILD. BY THE FEDERATION OF CANADIAN MUNICIPALITIES. for overly aggressive sales tactics. if you hear her making cross-border dials, you are at liberty to smack a ho immediately. do not be fooled by her pig tails and pleasant smile.

Monotonous Monday Musings

Walked in at 10:02am today. The pod was a ghost-town. Chi-chetti must've been the lone survivor from the weekend.

But we rallied. The Butler and HookerJones came out from the woodwork just as I was picking up the phone to start my day. Seems like I'm the X-factor here, bringing people together. It's my burden.

Highlight: HookerJones encountered a "This number does not accept solicitations. If you are a solicitor, please add this number to your 'DO NOT CALL' list." I kinda wish I could do that...the message would be more like "This number does not accept creepers..."

Nothing made the day more complete than watching NBC's "The Office" on lunch. Somehow it justifies our lives.

Friday's pay day and we're already planning the ritualistic Friday Pay Day Dinner. Brio's, anyone?

Ty Ty is back in his rightful cube and the sound of his melodious voice has been a delight for all.

Misfortunes of the Fortunate

The most surprising thing about the Tiger Woods affair was that he was actually banging chicks. He always kinda struck me as gay. And the fact that his wife rocked him with one of his golf clubs...that's just great irony.

Well you know what they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

So would you rather have your wife attack you with a golf club or have your mistress pay $250,000 to put billboards of your affair above the streets of NYC, San Fran, and Atlanta?

<--That's right. The mistress of Oracle's CEO is turning heads and blowing the whistle on their 8 1/2 year affair with some good, old fashioned marketing. Serious vindication.

This is a message to all of the cubicle cronies: the world gets a lot smaller the more your bank account grows. So be careful who you're boning. And always wrap it before you tap it.

There is a lot of excitement for the upcoming week/weekend. Our sales manager's band is playing at a local bar. The "oldies sensation that's sweeping the nation" known as Ruby Shooz.

And I am certainly ready to be starstruck cuz Jersey Shore is coming to town!!!!!!!! J-Fizzle and I discussed it this morning at the gym...

It will pretty much be one of those life changing moments when they let me shake Snookie's hand. But what I really want is to get a good look at that poof on top of her head - if the 'queen of guidettes' uses a bump-it then life as we know it is a LIE. Maybe J-Fizzle will score a birthday kiss from The Situation.

But I'm beginning to wonder how MTV pseudo-celebs are making their way upstate to our rinky dink town. Maybe because in NYC they're on the bottom of Hollywood's totem pole. You can't really consider MTV to be Hollywood anyways. It's like the Island of Misfit Toys for TV personalities. The guy from Real World/Road Rule's, Evan whatever-his-name-is, was here on New Year's Eve. Probably because he knew he'd get a headline. Too bad he only got a few frames on the photo page of the local magazine.

Now moving on from CEO chat and MTV jerks to: a twenty-something moment (ah, I digress). The twenty-something is my high school friend, BKWasp (blogger of Our Home Needs a Husband). She sent me this text:

"New low: digging for ONE PENNY to make the 1.50 for a bagel
and cream cheese. Panicked bc i couldn't find it."

Yikes. Nothing like paying rent in Brooklyn. We'll find our places though. Soon. But never forget that you came from somewhere between corporate domination and the mail room...Cubicle Land. Otherwise you could end up with a billboard of you and your mistress overlooking the streets of NYC - oops.

Thinking Outside the Cube

It's time to get creative.

Did you see that new Allstate Insurance commercial? They ask, "Is it the Great Recession? Or the recession that made us great."

Think about it.

Pole dancing as a fitness class. Ice cream sandwiches as architecture (check out the website!).

In the midst of a money-mongering nation driven by CEOs and corporations, the individual is picking us up and out of the slump.

Maybe it's my twenty-something bubble. Maybe it's the fact that my sister has, once again, been rewarded by doing the bare minimum and been granted carte blanche to rampage until she gets her way. But Uncle Sam's just been giving hands outs - like those stupid participation trophies we all got for rec soccer, and I'm sick of it. From Wal-Mart to Apple...everyyyyone needing to have everyyyything...we've just been trying to build an economy on bed of socialistic quicksand.

I can't help but praise Twitter and Facebook for at least trying to remind us about creativity and innovation. For stressing the importance of networking and maintaining relationships. [caveat: face-to-face interaction and social graces are invaluable. don't replace personal, human exchanges with technology]. We've been lost in a cookie cutter society. I should know. I practically live on Wysteria Lane. But the twenty-somethings, aka 'Boomerang Generation', has been plugging away. We fashion our Facebook profiles to be totally unique to our personality, we find our own voices by writing a pointless blog that nobody reads, through random YouTube videos about Long Island moms, we decorate our cubes with Confederate/Union Army figurines (HookerJones...). I've even worn a full-body banana costume for a presentation in an international economic policy course.

Unknowingly, we've been preparing for the facade of the American Dream to crumble. Or at least to crack. Maybe the "red white and blue" has become more of a "red white and screw you". This whole "Great Recession" thing. It's what you make of it. It's sink or swim.

So props to C-dawg for avidly participating in the economy by taking a pole dancing class (and for those of you who were wondering, C-dawg confirms that it actually is a lot harder than you think. and she only performs for private parties.).

Try thinking outside your box. I mean...cube.

[photo by Stephanie Diani for The New York Times]

Forever Young

Cube Chat: *there's a great picture of Snooki's ass online* *yeah? is it hot?* *hey guys The Office was featured on CNN..."Hell on Earth"* *really??* ((silence...because we all start typing in CNN website...Chi-chetti was just joking.)

Life in Cubicle Land can equate to freshman year of college. Dorm living, corridor style.

I spend most of my time online, expanding my pop culture repetoire and procrastinating. Why space out my responsibilities throughout the day when they can be crammed into the last half hour before quitting time (or last half hour before the final exam)? And every so often you can peep your head out of the cube (dorm room) to see what madness is going on. It's on-campus residency without the alcohol. Okay okay...sometimes alcohol.

Yesterday I spent 47 minutes color-coding and updating my agenda. To the point where I was flipping through week's passed and started jotting down what tasks I had accomplished each day.

Then I made my grocery list. See? In our little bubble we make baby step progress towards becoming acceptable, functioning adults. BuckWild drinks Hawaiian Punch for breakfast.

We've even been expanding our libraries. The Butler and C-dawg's latest read was Are You There Vodka, It's Me: Chelsea and sTORI Telling. My Homie actually has the new Barnes & Noble eReader called 'the nook'. High class literacy.

Basicallyyyy, growing old is inevitable. But growing up? That's optional.

Upgrades, Updates

ATTENTION ALL EMPLOYEES!

As per The Office's "get healthy, go green" mantra for 2010, cubicle workspace will be upgraded to include self-powered stations as such -->

Using the treadmill track to completely power your computers will encourage employees to work for 9hours straight - unnecessary pauses may destroy documents and unsaved research. Most importantly these changes are in the interest of YOUR health! Fewer doctors' visits and co-pays; fewer paid sick days! Additionally, Account Executives will benefit from limitless opportunities to pursue your health/fitness goals out of the office - rentals cars will no longer be expensed by The Management for client meetings.

Please refer to HookerJones's wall-of-knowledge to adhere to the proper dress code. Exceptions in attire and footwear will not be made (Which still saves you time and money that it would take to shop for a new wardrobe!).

xoxo,

The Management and HR

Party in the USA

Consider the partying habits of Americans. Consider the rat race of America's corporate climate.

Nobody does it like we do.

Sure, my friends abroad have told me that partying in Germany, Russia, etc. is like a full time job. They start at 8pm and consider going to the bars around 11pm. Circa 12:30am the trek to the bar is a reality, then the disco later. All-in-all a night out goes til 6am, maybe even further into the morning hours. And although the Euro has financial trump, we've got Donald Trump. And Ivanka. So shove it.

Their students are more learned and worldly, but between blacking out and running Fortune 500 companies, nobody gets it done like the US. Politicking aside, our sales force is an army of its own - demanding Gross/Net within minutes, a mass of go-getters in a dead sprint to close the big deal. We do business like we do McDonalds; supersized and on the spot (England actually took the "Supersize" option off its menu when they saw that it accounted for less than 1% of its sales the year McDs came to Europe). What does this all mean? That excess is exhilarating.

Apparently so is obesity. But that's besides the point.

What other country would allow a rowdy cab driver to assault a drunken Butler and HookerJones? He made off with double what he should have been paid (and The Butler's cell phone...and spa certificate). Now that's a go-getter. Even BuckWild met her match at the movies when the punchy line-guard wouldn't let them through "without both tickets" even when she presented a receipt. Frugality indeed. But what I'm still focusing on is the company cruise. Nothing but four days of drunken, sloppy vacationing with The Man and Upper Management for a job well done. Next time you do shots with your boss, you'll know what I'm talking about.

Sure the Spaniards do their siestas. But we do Starbucks to keep us going from the weekend that wasn't really relaxing because we decided that, oh, Friday's happy hour would turn into an all-night booze-fest, Saturday meant drunken disaster downtown, and Sunday Funday was a must because our favorite team was playing.

Work hard. Play hard.

Cheers

To be perfectly honest, had there been an open bar at 7am...I would have been there at 7:01am.

It's Friday. It's pay day. And it's been a long, long week.

Circa 7:13am, text message from friend received: "Would you like to get past the point of inebriation with me tonight?" And yes, yes I would. Holy hot mess.

Speaking of which, HookerJones's ripped stockings had her living up to her name.

Two notable things about life at The Office. Interning only helped me become the 9th floor copy machine slave. Also, the names Kim and Kelly are not gender-specific...don't assume anything (ASSUME makes and ASS out of U and ME. haha get it???)

BuckWild & My Homie were subject to the ever-watchful eyes and ears of the Upper Management. Everyone please be cautious of the newly installed "invisible cameras on your left" because they are alwayyyys watching. And although the cameras are pretend [duh], please ladies lets remember to keep that bathroom clean. We are twenty-somethings - lets act like it.

Cube Chat: the South is a tricky thing. Manners are hit-or-miss when it comes to dealing with Northerners and non-locals. But they're also kinda dumb and sleep with their cousins so I usually don't feel bad. We really do try to understand them. For example Magpie inquired about the proper pronunciation of "pecan" for southern states...is it "pee-con" or "pee-can"? Geographic location may not have much bearing on this because I've heard it both ways, North and South, East and West.

But a lot can be learned from those Southern homebodies. They love their people. There's something to be said for the bonds we form with our childhood friends, freshman year dorm friends, twenty-something pod mates...although the cube across from me remains unoccupied, I have a fierce loyalty to The Butler, HookerJones, C-dawg (and even Chi-cetts). Nothing like catching up after a long weekend or commiserating over a power tripping executive. These are my peeps, my podmates. It's always good to be where everybody knows your name.

Corporate America Contributions

Most Haitians have a daily income of $2 per day. Some ridiculous 70% have contracted HIV. About half of the total population (over age 15) can read and write.

Why does it take a devastating natural disaster for the First World to care?

Better yet, why has texting been one of the more effective ways of raising money and support? I don't know if that's effective manipulation of capitalism or if it's just plain lazy.

For some this month is about the Company Cruise and all the necessary preparation. If you're serious about this, then give thought to a strict regimen of Diet Coke and sugar-free jell-o. But that seems like a direct flight to misery and self-loathing. Plus size models have actually been in demand lately. And by "plus size" I mean to say "of normal height and weight".

Plus size models. Ha, because the new models make me think "go ahead, have that cookie that's going to make your thighs bulge and face breakout". It certainly isn't changing the way we think overnight. Maybe instead of texting for funds, relief organizations should seek out the cruise-takers of Corporate America for food stuffs. That's a win-win.

Patriotic Patronage

Just another day at the office.

The Butler studies up on her 70s studs.


I mean after all, a girl's gotta keep busy!





From daydreaming to online shopping, we keep it fresh around here. C-dawg's eminent deployment has us researching (okay, has ME researching) naval protocol.



Personally, I'd go for the G.I. Jane look. Although C-dawg's bump today is looking fly so the vote against shaving your head is unanimous, "gurrrrl you work that up do!" Thank you for protecting democracy and sacrificing your wardrobe.

Other updates include my ventures in trans-Atlantic telemarketing. I phoned into Ashford UK. Bitch please! Yes that's a six-hour time difference. Yes I was at The Office by 5:45am. Yes I got locked in the stairwell and had to pound on the weighted steel door for 10 minutes.

Aside from my brief stint in 9th/10th floor limbo this morning, the opportunity to solicit British businesses was both exciting and gut-wrenching, but was met with limited xenophobia. Now who's ready for the BRICs??? (Brazil, Russia, India, China...the world's fastest growing economies). Let's be honest, we can credit their success with drug and human trafficking.

But until they start selling postcards of hotties there's a good chance that The Butler won't be willing to go overseas any time soon. God Bless America

A Lesson in Swindling

swindle (v) - to obtain money or property by fraud or deceit


Ever seen the movie-musical The Music Man? It's about this traveling salesman who takes this small, secluded community by storm and sells them a bunch of musical instruments. Your kids are out late at night at the pool hall, running around town - who knows what kind of unwholesome mischief they're getting into! Why not invest in a shiny brass trumpet and join the community youth together in an all out symphony orchestra?

Did the entire town have to empty their post-Depression era bank accounts on noisemakers and nuanced dreams of classical music? No. But they did.

Think about it: who was the first person to buy a microwave?

How about that sad sap of a salesman who was stuck with getting that thing on the market. They say the customer is always right...FALSE. The customer doesn't always know what the customer wants. That's where solicitors come in.

Solicitor - from the Latin verb "solicitar" that translates loosely as the verb "to incite fear" or "to scare". Fascinating.

The numb nut townsfolk in The Music Man were terrified that their bible-hugging kids were going to go down the wrong path unless they were tooting and fluting. A fear that the salesman brought to their attention.

A solicitor addresses your deepest fear, appeal to wants of which you weren't even aware. For the trendsetters, tanning beds keep you bronzed. For the cancer-conscious trendsetters, self-tanner lotions remove the UV. Both impusles to indulge are based on fear, fear of falling behind in looks and in times, coupled with fear of death/disease. (but didn't you know that white pasty skin was once a thing for royalty? the slaves and peasant toiling in the fields were the ones looking like burlap bags. hence pale skin meant money. with all the rays that penetrate the cube walls i'm looking more like a queen every day)

Porn though. That's the one industry that eludes me...it's recession proof and DEAR GOD HOOKERJONES WOULD YOU STOP SCREAMING OUT JO DEE MESSINA LYRICS?????

Paycheck Woes

What's better than being a twenty-something with a salary?

Owning a twenty-something with a salary.

Yes, that's right. I'm like those kids you see at the mall or zoo who have a leash/harness. My mom likes to toggle the strings of my purse every chance she can, attacking me with every new department store mailer, every fresh discount and BOGO cut-out. Living out her dreams of glamor through her daughters.

"You need a trendy watch. And some aviators!"...really? Because I've definitely been wearing aviators since I was 16. And she's always hated them. But now that they cost $95 they're sooooooo cute, a must have. Too bad I rock the wayfarers now.

She already spends Daddy's money, so why not mine? How about I instead give her a paper-doll with my likeness. That way she'll be able to cut/paste/accessorize at will...it's like the ugly cousin of practicing voo-doo.

In this day and age, danger lurks around every corner...fake Gucci bags, expired coupons, Lady Gaga. A spend-happy parent should be the least of a young professional's worries.

To off-set expenses and mitigate risks there are plenty of opportunities to jump start that nest egg. Instead of ski trips, opt for drunk sledding at a local park. Only accept a job offer if they have a company coffee machine. Find a college bar with a 25c draft night. And remember that happy hour is only worthwhile if the boss is paying. And by all means do NOT hand over any financial information to your parents. Especially your HSBC debit card.

No Laugh Track Required

So I heard about this place called Club Yo Yo...stands for You're Only - Young Once. And now I must find it. Sadly it'll take a trans-Atlantic flight to be able to party the night away. But I found the concept exciting, thrilling - what a great motto.

How about that "Change of Address" email from HR today! Are they meaning to rub it in my face that, indeed, I still reside at my parent's house or is my life really just one cosmic joke? Like how I sooooo badly had to get out of New York and went to college 14hrs away, only to then transfer to a university within 25mi of home. And also how I moved across the floor so that I wouldn't have to be sitting next to an empty cubicle only to have each subsequent cube buddy either be fired or quit.

This could simply be an indication of my future - one of a hermit, of solitude.



So I'm recruiting YOU to sit in the cubicle across from me! YOU could be living the glamorous life of a young professional:

Plus! Check out your view...............................................

As if the free company mug weren't enough.

Relish your twenties.

And now, cue the wake-and-bake song (Up Up & Away - Kid Cudi).

Neurological Stimulation

Question: What weighs more - a ton of bricks or a ton of feathers?

Answer: trick question! a ton is a ton (equal to 2,000lbs), a measurement of weight. Ergo it may take fewer bricks to measure up to a ton as opposed to the shitload of feathers you'd need to accumulate for a ton.

Now consider that 2 cups, or 16oz, of a substance may not equal 1 lb, also 16oz. This just freaks me out.

My college roommate, Mimi, is dissecting a brain today. It's part of her doctorate. Glad to know that I've really pushed myself to the limit by pondering measurement conundrums in the confines of my padded cubicle walls. And even that much more glad to be blogging about it.

It's probably better this way.

With all the time that I now dedicate to clothes shopping (watch out, I've made it to the mall twice in the past week) - how could I possibly give the central nervous system its due attention?

Detox and Damage Control

Naturally the better part of the day has been dedicated to recapping New Year's Eve.

Many bruises. A multitude of poor life choices. Synopsis: HookerJones takes the blackout train, manages to step up and make out with an acquaintance she stumbles upon. The Butler follows suit with 'no objections' as Acquaintance's bud makes moves. BuckWild has crazy ol' bat taking pictures up her dress on the dance floor. After losing track of the crew, I decide to make my way home (orrr to someone else's?) to really ring in the new year. Lil Thug opts for the nightly stroll instead of a cab despite her wads of cash - from stripping no doubt. In retrospect, it all seemed like a really good idea. Expect a jello shooting, champagne oyster chugging, black ice blackout, cherry popping good time.

Conclusion..."Welcome to 2010: Your Life in Shambles."

On that note, can't wait to see what happens in Vegas this April.