Say my name.

This post had a much funnier title about 15 hours ago.  But I plum forgot!!


Two items:

Last Thursday, I was showing a potential client around the building.  Potential client says to me, "Oh right.  What's your name again...Melissa?"  No dice.

And today's story won't make any sense.  And this link REALLY won't make any sense: Lois Clubs

[i'll let the people judge on that.]

Somebody find me the effing candy corn in this hell hole.

Is somebody getting a little desperate for votes?

Comments on National Amnesia - blog

(CNN) - "We're using executive authority. . .stepping into a gap, at no cost to the taxpayer, creating a program that creates additional relief to the students," Barnes said.

The president is under pressure to address the financial concerns faced by students and recent graduates. Student loan debt, which is now outpacing credit card debt, is one of the problems called out at Occupy Wall Street demonstrations in New York.

Hey, Mr. President.  Your pants.  They are on fire.

Because YOU - A - LIAR!

FedLoan created a 'special' payment program for me.  By combining my four payments into two, giant lump sums - one for the beginning of the month.  One for the end!! 

Plenty other Americans could use a break, and they do not include college grads and their parents (who are probably just sick of having them living back at home.)

Paranormal Activity 3 & Black Noise.

eek.

Scream doesn't scare me.  Mostly because the scream mask looks like the creeper is about to take it...deep.

Paranormal Activity?  Yeah, didn't sleep for days.  And same thing for Paranormal Activity 2.  So on the opening night of PA-3 last Friday, BuckWild and I were readying ourselves for a shitty 76-hr bender.  Except for one thing: the Black Noise coming from the black biddies who were screaming all around us.

Haha!  For real, real!!  At one point - the wave of "OH NO SHE DI'NT!" was more overwhelming than the demon-possessed 8-yr-old girl.  Hey.  I was laughing myself to tears and afterwards, slept like a baby.  Haunted House or Madea's House.  You tell me.

Two things that I really don't care about.

a) Sbux trying to save dimes and the environment by using paper cups made of 10% post consumer fiber.  Sucks.  It has a tendency to be a piss-poor insulator, burn my finger prints off.  I'm over your 'green games' Starbucks! I want a fkn styrafoam powerhouse coffee cup that will give Thermos a run for their money...and then when I'm done, I want to throw it in a garbage can and never see it.  Ever.  Again.

2) A co-worker was all high and mighty, boasting to me about the sweet suite that he watches NHL games in. In this land of fame and fortune, a single case of beer will cost (get this): a minimum of $130.  Some child in Africa isn't laughing or crying at that...he is buying a case of beer for $12 and selling it to your dumb ass at the Moron Premium.  Yup.  I'd rather get spit on by Superfan in the 300s, I won't know that I'm being showered by spit anyways bc I am cranked off my $3 beers thank you.


I said, good day!!

Sarah Palin is the baddest b!tch around.

Listening to, and judging, a first-grader

I was day-dreaming about the Kardashian Wedding, and saw an update on Sarah Palin's campaign for presidency...as in: that ho is NOT running for president??  WTF!  That campaign was a blogging gold mine.

SNL and Tina Fey just dropped their ratings without any just cause.

Who clued her into the fact that nobody cares about politics anymore?  She knows the fkn drill now.  Bristol just turned 21 and, let me just say, she is gonna rocket MamaBear to the top of Mt. Rushmore solely on fumes and FourLoko.

Right?!  You know Lindsey Lohan's parents are making eighty-bajillion more than...sorry, what did President Obama name his kids? (SEE! case in point.)  Now all we need is for Betty White to adopt the Palins.  ...epic.

NOTCH.

Watch those grab-hands, granny.
(video)

White Girl Problems.

The Guys Upstairs saw me drive up in my lil Civic.  They waved.  I stepped out of my lil Civic.  They say, "Ah we thought that Hummer was yours!!"

...You know.  That Hummer is here before I am, and leaves after I do.  So yes.  That Hummer is mine...all. day. long.

Morning pee break #2.  I ripped my pantyhose.  Hip to ankle.

...Nothing like having to flash the freshly bruised jambones.  No lunch break in sight.  Skank.

Corporate discount at Apple.  Totally sweet, right?!?

...Knocks off like $5 per purchase.

Inner Office IM received, "so we are doing a happy hour at the end of the month, you should come."

...End of the month??  I started pounding shots like yesterday.

Blogger, Trainer, and Spandex Police.

win.

win win win WINNNNN

SO EFFING HARD.  win.

How to you like me now????  TO HAVE MY TOP10 SEARCH WORDS READ 'SPANDEX'  - this is 100% for real real (not for play play).  I have nothing but a spout of awesome obscenities to scream at the top of my lungs because, hell fkn yeahhhhhhh.  Time to up our spandex searches!  I CAN'T LET THE READERS DOWN!!!

Spandex & Sass - nothing but class, folks.  Nothing.  But.  Class....BOOM.

New Diggs



Wish You Were Here.



Is everybody sick and tired of the "woe is me" crap that I've been spewing?  Good.  Me too.  We got business to attend to.

Inner-office IM came through yesterday: "so, this is totally not work related...but how old are you?  we have a running bet up here."

Pardon?  Since when is a 'not work related' issue an actual issue?  Because I'm definitely NOT offended by dudes guessing my age.  Shit.  In the Old Office, age was the first thing on the table.  Followed by your call on top or bottom [...bunk, that is.  top or bottom bunkbed preference].

Nowwww I get it.  This place is like...'professional'.  These people take smoke breaks.  Not lunch dates.  And for the record.  The lowest guess on my age was 22 (can I get an AMEN!).

Sorry dudes.  If you're not the maintenance man then keep on walking.

Please.  Join me in this acclimation to the Real Corporate America.  It's gonna be a lot like Britney Spears and Motherhood.

Steve Jobs, you said it.

Find What You Love and Pursue It.

...zing.

Have you ever felt like you were being suffocated, drowned, and clubbed over the head...simultaneously?

I worked two years and 28 days at my last job.  Began June 1, 2009 - Ended June 29, 2009.  Started out strong.  And for a number of reasons, started to fall apart.  It's not worth blaming the organization or pointing all fingers at The Management; because if I had decided to lick enough assholes (or get on my knees for the VPs), then that office would have been my playground.  But I didn't, so I lost.

The thing about a job like that: you make good friends with your peers.  It's the only way you'll survive.  Learn what you can.  Then get the eff out.  And in your off-time, have an EPIC to-do list.  Notch!

When I was 'let go', I felt like shit.  Because the best thing that came out of that cubicle was this blog.  For a while they had me researching (aka: didn't know what to do with me and kind of swept me under the rug for a time) - and in those days, I'd sit in my cube and ponder the meaning of life.  It was soul crushing.  I felt like I was stealing money from the company.  Really, what were they paying me for?

So I busied myself with projects that accumulated on my desk in case some one came over, wondering 'wtf are you doing.'.  So by the time I was pulled into the Next big department, the VP told me, "Don't be here because your dad is friends with the CEO." - boom.  Right?  So I was put on a 30-day notice.  And then I ended up juggling several different job titles to make a comeback.  That sucked.  So yeah.  By the time I was 'let go', I was relieved yet full of nothingness.  Coincidentally, I was 'let go' on the day I put in my two weeks.

I have a number of choice words for three special people who are still there.

What was I really up to this summer?

Recovery.  By the time my first unemployment check deposited, it was apparent that my body had spun off into a different dimension of adrenaline overdrive.  Because of my parents' relationship with the CEO, and because I had moved back home, it made everything seem much more extreme.  On average, I'd get 3 hours of sleep each night - most nights, waking up in a cold sweat and hyperventilating.  I'm the oldest 'kid' in the hood.  I'm the oldest 'kid' in the family.  There are big expectations; there's only so much that the psyche can take.

"If you end up with a boring, miserable life because you listened to your mom, your dad, your priest, or some guy on television telling you how to do your shit, then you deserve it." - Frank Zappa

That's what I was doing.  And I deserved every miserable day and any thought of doubt that had crossed my mind.

Days went from full-force to a complete lull.  I did not adjust well.  I went to Italy and got some wordly perspective.  And I slept...a lot.

Back Stateside.  I was babysitting.  And enjoying it.  I was lining up waitressing gigs.  Because I started on my personal training certification.  (right??)  J-fizz orchestrated that, and double-teamed it with AnnieO.  After I was able to get past my little quarter-life crisis, it was all business.  I owe them.

I officially out-did myself on the appeasement front by accepted a full-time job.  But I mean, I totally didn't want to become a "loser" by persuing something that I'm passionate about.  Seriously...waitressing and nannying to tide me over while I get some traction underway with the PT thing?  That 9-5 sure saved me.  Can you imagine if I were a beer girl or something??

Surround yourself with people who will support you.  Those who know me, they know where I'm going.  Learn everything you can from everyone you meet along the way.  And when in doubt, give it a "fk you bitches!"

The Superfan: a brief rant.

Saw a man today.  Mowing the lawn.  In a tight football jersey, cut-off jeans (jorts.), and a Buffalo Bills hard hat.

Dude.  Seriously?

Every Reader Ever knows that I break for Mark Sanchez.  Hard.  But I keep my fanfare to a shrine hidden in my closet (Helga-Pataki style).  Come on.  But then again...

I could definitely go for a man with a belt like that.  And hey, if he's wearing that mask?  At least his lady would only have to be blindfolded, not blacked out, to let him penetrate her.  Relationships are all about compromise.

Doin It.

Since my new co-workers are in their 50s and Blogger is blocked by the New Office (and for a while I didn't even have co-workers, just baby formula and AddictingGames), Cubicle Land is now overwhelmed with my blossoming social life and shit that nobody cares about.  Plus, I've been really well-behaved.

Don't worry, I'm not thrilled about it either.

So I've picked up a few drifters to fill the void of cubicle voices, characters, personalities.  Yup.  Found them at a local dive bar called Thirsty's.  They're named PT, my boy T, and Betty (but you all knew Betty from before...ish).

A young lady asked PT out on a mini-date last week.  She suggested that they attend a comedy show at the Local University:

YoungLady:  Yeah, it'll be like a mini date!
PT: ...what's a mini date?
YoungLady:  We go out, and have fun.  But we don't sleep together.

...come on.  Not even a blowjob??  Sometimes you gotta put your foot down and insist on a good old fashioned lunch date.

HAHA.  I wonder if the best things in life aren't free.

Did everyone see Levi Johnston's Nobel Prizer?

buy it.

Shut up.  This shit is awesome.  Almost as good as Bristol Palin's corrective plastic surgery.

I love it.  Notice: the "oh shittttttttt" look on his face.  Been there?

I mean, hey.  Not everyone can knock up a governor's daughter and still cling to the coattails of stardom.  Wait til my bestseller hits the shelves.  You'll shit.

Key to impressing the new boss:

Are you ready to astound your new boss?

Don't bother showing up early or buying donuts for the team.  Dropping a strategic "BOOM!" in a conference call will rocket you to the top!

Yesterday, I was brainstorming with a few others.  After about 20 minutes of hearing "talktalktalk", I just screamed 'BOOM' - and peeled off with a symphony of bullet points and bottom lines.

It shows creativity, or at least a lesser form of Turrets.