The Annoying Co-worker

So, as I said before, I love both my jobs and the people I work with, as well. Nonetheless there's always that one person that works every nerve in your body. Mostly its women that seem to not get along; in my situation, it's a guy.

Let's call him, "John." John likes me. Everyone knows it. But John is very flirtatious. He's also a very "touchy-feely" person. The other girls at work don't seem to mind this. However, it bothers me that he thinks women are supposed to flock to him, like he's some kind of God. He always comes in the door, flashing his "male chauvinist" smile and tries to give me a massage. When I remove his hand from my shoulder, he gets an attitude and doesn't speak to me for the rest of our shift. This is more than fine with me. But, we still have to work together. And when I ignore his "passes," and I ask him for help with something around the job, he doesn't help, at all. When I ask him why, his response is always, " Oh, you can do it. I'm busy." I usually watch him at that point, just to see how "busy" he is, and normally, he's helping out another co-worker (typically one who lets him feel on her.) Not only is this sexual harassment, but he's not a team player and should be reprimanded for his actions. And if the women at work keep enabling his crude habits, then he'll never change. So, at this point, I give him the cold shoulder, unless it's something work related. Slowly, but surely I think he's getting the hint that I would never deal with him on a personal level.

Dying For A Bff

So, my friend, "Lexi" and I work together at my hostess job/bartender job.  Yesterday, she told me that the other hostess we work with is really pissed at me. I was confused, because I only remember having no more than three conversations with this girl. Odd, right? So, I asked Lexi what she said about me. This is the gist of what this weirdo girl thinks of me: 

Apparently, I don't speak to her first when she enters a room. I don't call her to come out with me and my co-workers. And when I gave her my myspace address (this occurred during our 3rd conversation) I must've accidently forgot a letter or number of the email when I wrote it down. She gossiped to everyone saying that it was a conspiracy and I was trying to somehow set her up, because I didn't give her the correct information. Lexi said whether I did something to her or not she's obssessed with me. I was speechless when she revealed this to me. 

Never in my life have I ever had someone that crazy over me-and moreover, a girl! Lex said that whatever the topic of their conversation, she kept mentioning my name or bringing up how she wants me to like her. My first thought was, who the hell does she think she is to where I have to speak to her first, when she enters a room? I've never known of a more conceited person!  Lexi even told me that she stalked her myspace page and could tell her who all her friends were, and what her profile read--verbatim. I heard that she's being transferred to another division of the company--apparently, I'm not the only person who's nerves she's worked. From jumpstart, I thought she was psychotic--Lexi just confirmed my curiosity. 

Hopefully she finds the help she needs, or the friend she's looking for, either way, it will definitely not be me! 

Lucked Out

Many people despise their boss. They dred going to work and when they do go, watching the clock tic becomes a second nature act. Its torture, as if they're dying a slow death. This is not the case for me. 

I actually really enjoy both my jobs--and the fabulous bosses that come along with the packaged deal! My first job, the one I had the longest, is a coordinator for a non-profit. It's mainly assisting with the planning of events and office tasks. I work right underneath my boss, and she is wonderful. Just two years older than me, she has to be the most silliest, down-to-earth, yet understanding and sincere person I've ever met in my life. She actually understands that every now and then I'm going to be running late.  She also grasps ahold of the inevitable; there are times when I'm going to get sick. Most importantly, she just..., well, "gets it." I'm taking six courses this semester, so, ever so often, I may need a day off to study for tests and exams--she totally understands this. Because of our busy schedules, it's easiest for us to communicate through text messages--it's the coolest thing ever. At the other job, when I introduced her to my friends and co workers they A. Didn't believe that she was really my boss because she looks so young, and B. Saw how we interacted and told me they were jealous because it seems like I "have it soo good." She's amazing, so, yup, I guess I do have it pretty darn good. 

 And that's just the beginning...

Boss number two is just a complete walking bag of laughs! He kids and jokes around all the time. Oh, so,  my second job, my new found position, is hostessing/bartending at a booming upscale restaurant/bar/lounge. It's one on of the best positions I've ever had. I'm only there on weekends, and when I am there, it's as if I'm hanging out with friends, rather than being at work. My job hosted a huge birthday bash for a few celebrities, and my boss and I were dancing and taking pictures together. That says it all, huh. We literally joke and laugh all the time. That doesn't go to say that he never goes into "boss" mode (Same for boss above :)). I've see him fire people on the spot and send people home. But me? He says I always do a great job, so he never has anything negative to say about me. When guys try to hit on me, he tells them that they're not allowed, because I'm his prized possession. It's the funniest thing. 

I lucked out and found two great positions, making decent money, while having tons of fun working with my co-workers and bosses. Now...how many people can say that?!

Youngest child syndrome vent

My two older brothers and sister are my parents' prized possessions. The myth that "the youngest child gets whatever they want" needs to be put to rest. I am the youngest of four and things just don't go my way. Although, I'm the child that's never been arrested, always received good grades, and never had a baby before 18, I get the worst treatment. And the sibling that I'm at most "competition" with is my oldest brother. Pretty odd, huh. Well...things go a little something like this:

When I have a problem, whether financial or relationship related, my mom tells me to hang in there and stick it out. 

Whenever my 30-something year old brother has a problem--with anything--my mom makes him soup, puts him up in a hotel, so he can "get away," for a while, and gives him all her extra money.  She does this to, make herself "feel better" so she can "rest at night." 

What my mother doesn't know is that she's an enabler and my brother is a user. He purposely doesn't succeed in life because he knows that my mother will be there to bail him out of life's curve balls. He's never had steady work because my mom pays all his bills.  When his wife and him are in the middle of an argument, he calls my mother so she can put in her two cents and decide on a winner. My brother doesn't follow through with anything because he knows that my mom will scrape up the pieces and attempt to put the messy puzzle back together. 

Oh, and don't ever let me shed light on the situation. When I voice my opinion about the specialty treatment that my broken brother receives, I pretty much get eaten alive. She says that all of us (her children) receive the same attention and are equally important. Only half of that statement is true. I remind her of times when I went through drastic changes and how she was rarely around to help. She denies her not being around to help, and gives me the cold shoulder for the rest of the evening; assisting with the fact that she favors my brother over me. It sucks that me and my mothers relationship revolves around my brother. When things in his life are going good, her and I get along. And when things are going sour, we're at eachother's necks, like worst enemies. In time, all I can hope is that my brother gets his life together so my mother and I can get along and be that great mother-daughter team, that my older sister and her are. 

Sick Soap

It sits on a dish, on the shelf of a shower or on the side of the sink. It's soap. And not just any kind of soap; its the run down version of soap-- the anorexic kind. It's thin and weary and I will never understand why some people continue to use soap when it's in this state. It's not fair to what's left of the soap or to the person that's using it. It's slips between the washcloth and falls flat on the shower or tub floor and then it's hard to pick up, literally. 

The next stage that infuriates me further is when the soap starts to break apart and people attempt to still use it. Why not get a new bar of soap? The broken slither of a bar leaves old soapy skid mark like residue along the sides of everything it touches. So wouldn't it be better to start brand new with a fresh bar? 

It doesn't take much work at all to go into the cabinet, grab a new bar of soap, pry it out of the box and place it in its designated place. I will never understand the sentimental attachment to an item so frail--not to mention that eventually it becomes useless. Let it go and get a fresh bar!

Whoosh--feels great to get that one off my chest!

Carpet Lumps

As I walk through a carpeted room, without warning, I trip. I trip hard. I slam into a coffee table. Picture frames shatter into the floor and coasters fling across the room. I just met my worst enemy--a lump in the carpet.

I hate lumps in carpets. They never let you know their watching--they appear without warning and embarrass the hell out of you. Like a chameleon, they blend in with their surroundings and pop out when the moments right. This usually happens in a room full of people and the lucky bastard is carrying a plate of food and/or a beverage, without a top. 

What drives me even more crazy are the people who try and hide the lumps. These are the people that attempt to cover their mistakes with a chair or couch. I've even seen people cover their lumps with floor lamps. What is so difficult about removing a floor lamp, straightening out the carpet and placing the floor lamp back in place? You would think the most simplest tasks in life, are actually simple right?

I'm the person that will remove all the items, couch included*, pull the carpet out, so it's flat and smooth and put the everything back. To me, it's like a breath of fresh air, a relief, a weight lifted off my shoulder. By expressing the wonderful gesture of straightening out a lump in a carpet,  I can save a person the humiliation of cleaning up an unnecessary mess of food and drink. Feeling significant and liberated, I walk away with a newfound friend.

I know, I know, It's weird.

Although the halloween season is pretty much over, I wanted to bring you all into the world of one of my biggest fears. It may seem a bit ridiculous, but hey, sometimes one can't help what scares the shit out of them. 

Statues: They're huge; some are iron, some are stone and it's something about a very human, but not humanlike figure that makes me very uncomfortable. I think it all started back when I was in my teens and my school had a class trip to a museum. I had a good time, however, that night I had a nightmare where one of the statues turned and glared at me, hopped off the platform, and chased me down the street. Is that not scary?! 

In the city around my school and work--they...are...everywhere. I usually cross the street, glance over my shoulder to make sure I'm not being chased and I briskly walk by. I know that in actual reality, nothings going to happen, but mentally, it really fucks me up in the head. With that being said, there's a fountain not far from my school, and surrounding it are three Sirens. Sirens, which are mythical bird-like women set to lure men to their island by singing sweet tunes, were very evil, cannibalistic women. At this fountain, they are intertwined together in the shape of a circle, and because of wear and tear over the years, their appearances are that of rotted green and copper. And they are gigantic. I don't even walk on the same side as the fountain. During the summer months, as I speedily walk by, I watch kids as they play in the water, and climb the statues, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I imagine one of the Sirens reaching down and swallowing one of kids. Yea, a little demented, but that's where my thoughts lead me.