Friday, January 30, 2004

Selecting the perfect porno

On a whim the other night... my significant other and I went to out pick a porno.

This always seems like a good idea at the time... but then when you actually get to the porno-place... or whatever they call those... stores, you have the difficult task of selection. If you have very little experience in these matters, what sort of criteria do you use?

***Excuse me, I want the one where the guys ONLY have big schlongs?.... I mean, BIG-BIG... no, not ELEPHANT big.... How big is yours? ....You know what I'm talking about.***

If you don't spend a lot of time thinking about or obsessing about pornography, then you really have no basis for picking the right one. In my experience, if you're dating a guy who knows his selection really well... extremely well... this is a RED FLAG.... a bad, bad sign... When I guy is a connoisseur of Porno it means one of two things: 1.)His expectations for actual performance are higher than average... and he may have an obsession with types of girls...2.)He is an obsessive masturbator and there's a chance that he's used the magic stick so often it actually is soft when he has to perform.

So on this particular night, we get to the 'Porno-store' and unfortunately it's about 3 minutes to closing time. There just happened to be a dude in the store wearing a trench-coat... and he was this little Asian dude. Go figure.

S.O. says- "I'll trust your judgment. You pick one."

First of all, here's some advice to men, and I'm the first person to admit this... being a woman:
Don't let your girlfriend pick out the porno!

I'm under a little bit of pressure here. Here I am in the "Adult Section" with the little Asian man.
***What should I pick... what should I pick?
***Rubber Fantasy...
***Asian Lesbian Whore Vixens...
***Sexy Panty Thieves...
***This one says Multiple Angles... what does that mean?...Ohhhhhh
***and so does this one...
***Dingo girls or Rapunzel....
---THE STORE WILL CLOSE IN ONE MINUTE. PLEASE MAKE YOUR SELECTION AND PROCEED TO THE CHECKOUT!---
***Shit... shit...shit
***Dingo girls or Rapunzel....
***Rapunzel say it has "Four Hours of Interactive Pleasure".... The cover looks better...okay.
---Do you have one? Did you pick one?---
***Yeah.

We bought it and brought it home...This had to be the worst adult film I have ever seen.
More later...

The tide may be turning, but I've had enough of the ocean

I suppose that the job market is growing every day. It's still not going to be what it used to be pre 2001.

Those people who have been unemployed for the past year or so... bless them. They're ready to get back into the swing of things. On the other hand, the folks who were working all this time may need a rest. Yes, we were lucky enough to have jobs, but many of us found ourselves swinging the load of those people who were let go. We never hired that extra head and a half that we needed to fulfill our goals... so two of us here in that group made up the difference. A half a job doesn't seem that much to add to one's regular responsibilities but after you add up the extra hours that were taken from you life... it's an equation for burn out.

A week ago it was announced that my group would have to find financial support outside the department. This is a nice way of saying I suppose that if we don't find a way for someone to take up our cause and financial burden... we'll be history by the end of the year. This way management doesn't have to say that their laying off or even redeploying heads. It sort of lends a rather optimistic ring to things.

I wasn't too surprised, and I felt relieved in a way because now I truly had an incentive to look for work elsewhere. This explains my latest push to revise my resume, etc. It also explains my frequently recurring fantasies of living like a aimless bohemian.

Office Caricature #1

Today she’s wearing an ankle-length red plaid skirt. White buttoned up blouse and black wool blazer. Here salt and pepper hair is cut in a non-descript short cut… looks like the Julie Andrews haircut sported by the nuns that used to work in the convent schools. Her glasses fit over her gaunt face like two oval disks rimmed in stoic black. The movement of her steps is punctuated by a preciseness. I understand why she fits into this environment. She’s probably a high member of the Work Safety Advisory Board.

Thursday, January 29, 2004

Sex or food?

I adore sex. I love it, but it seems that in this age of reality-doctored stories. You either have to be talking about something shocking or sexually titillating or writing for 'food-binge for the soul.' Chicken soup, chocolate... Americans are really big into using food as a coping mechanism for their issues. Eating is the perfect practice of displacement. You can eat your worries away and they not so surprisingly end up on your ass or thighs.

Perhaps your moral sensibilities dissuade you from thinking about a good old fashioned sexual romp. Food is a much more accessible release. You don't have to be particularly pretty or charming to indulge in a Krispy Kreme donut. You don't have to pay for dinner and a movie to enjoy Mrs. Fields or a bag of Cheetos and a six pack of Oly.

The Office Type

Often I feel like I'm only looking at life in an office-environment only from my point of view. I'd like to hear the perceptions of others.

I feel like I am alone... like I don't fit in. For lack of a better description - this is nerd central. People... men... don't look you in the eye when they talk to you. Pleasant morning greetings in the elevator are infrequent (not that my demeanor in the morning always merits a pleasant morning greeting). Plus I just get this overall feeling that most of these people live mainly inside their minds. A good number of them are terribly rigid and uptight. I don't get the sense that many of them actually 'live' or attempt to experience the 'out-of-the-ordinary.'

The people in my own group (or more accurately the management on the other side of the wall) don't seem too adept at thinking of long term solutions or goals. Documentation and sharing of processes and tools is unheard of. I always hear them yelling at each other to get a quick fix. They don't seem to be in anything other than crisis mode.

This group isn't really big on communicating the larger picture. They don't really talk about anything with each other but their jobs... their immediate responsibilities. Occasionally someone gripes about their truculent child or a busted pipe in their basement. Still, they don't appear to have much time to actually live their lives and therefore have anything to talk about because many of them stay in the office until 1:00 AM. The atmosphere of communication here is very similar to the one I experienced at home as a child. Don't talk about your feelings, and the best is always expected of you. You do your best at school, in your extra-curriculars; you do what you are told. You're expected to work your tail off and not question the directions that come from above. Then on all accounts I should feel at home here... but I don't.

I often feel guilty because I shouldn't complain... I actually have a job. I have an inner monologue that goes as follows:
----Starving children in China don't have jobs!----
***Who gives a shit...
----You should feel fortunate that you have a place to work----
***Yes, and then what... should I also accept the fact that I am terribly unhappy and bored... not to mention I don't really understand or appreciate the type of people who work here. Nor do I feel recognized for what I do.
----You should just tuck it in an take it... buck up little camper, because you know there's an eager face in a 3rd world country who is just willing to take your job at a quarter of what you're paid----
***They can have it...

Then for a brief moment I fantasize about working at a Starbucks and I realize that in this economy we cannot afford to be persnickety and balk at being taken advantage of... and our employers know this. And it makes me want to give them the finger even more. The reality is most corporate employers expect their salaried employees to devote extra hours to their jobs. Also, they expect these employees to take care of the administrative overhead in addition to their project time. After all, we aren't in France. Our company makes quite a to do about the fact that they whole-heartedly advocate 'work-life-balance.' This is mainly a show... Though I suspect other groups probably get a bigger bite out of the 'WLB' pie than others.

A few weeks ago, I had this epiphany about existing in the power structure that defines the work engine at this company... They're fucking with us, they're fucking us in the ass... and they pay us just enough so that we're willing to come back. I'm sure that this is not a revelation of Newtonian proportions in the business world. However, it seemed like breakthrough for me. Strangely, I felt as if I'd found some peace with my situation because I felt that, as long as I was aware of how they were 'fucking with us' I could recognize when it was coming (not necessarily avoid it), but still I could see it and know how I could or could not react to it. Coming to this realization offers some dangerous knowledge...

Someone who's reading this might simply deduct that I need to leave my job because it's making me UNHAPPY. I'm getting there... resume writing and revisions are on their way... of course not the one below. Though, I am curious what would happen if I did send it somewhere (to a job/company I didn't intend to work for) at least it might make someone laugh.... now your stretching it.

So can you explain what you did in your last position?

I am an office coordinator… I mean a project coordinator in the office… coordinating an office in a project… uh, you know what I mean.

I used to be an Office assistant, then I was promoted to administrative assistant… then I became an EXECUTIVE office assistant, which is actually a really big deal since I got to EXECUTE things…

Things… not people.

Unfortunately…

Wednesday, January 28, 2004

Is this dumb enough for you? ...Dumbed Down Resume

 
Imogene Hallogene
1666 NE 66th Avenue
Portland, OR 97215
lightthis@yahoo.com


EXPERIENCE
Project Coordinator
<05/2003 - Present > Nameless large corporation in Suburban American Hell
Coordinated projects. Typed a lot.

Office Coordinator
<10/2001 – 05/2003> Nameless large corporation in Suburban American Hell
General planning. Looked really busy. Started smoking again.

Administrative Assistant Coordinator
<7/2000 – 10/2001> Nameless large corporation in Suburban American Hell
Managed group schedules and calendars. Held manager's hand through Windows 2000 upgrade. Quit smoking.

Office Administrative Assistant
<5/2000 - 7/2000> Anon-a-temp
Worked as a temp until I got a real job. Showed up to work on time.

Teacher
<9/1999 - 5/2000> Public School System
Glorified babysitter


SKILLS & ATTRIBUTES
-Ill do what you tell me to do as long as I think it’s reasonable (team player)
-I’ll figure out a way to do it if I don’t have to get up off my ass (innovative and efficient)
-I can make a perfect bag of micro-wave popcorn (Exceptional time management skills)
-I’ll listen to the customer. I won’t always agree with them or do what they say (customer service oriented)
-I guess I can write and speak English (articluate/skilled writer)
-I know where the supply cabinet is (resourceful)


MASTERED COMPUTER APPS AND LANGUAGES
Microsoft Windows
Some typing program… I forgot the name.

EDUCATION
Official Sea Monkey Rancher Certificate Holder - Mail order
Liberal Arts Education - from Southern Idaho school of Horticulture and Molds.

HOBBIES & INTERESTS: reality television

Tuesday, January 27, 2004

I've decided that...

Things that piss you off or irritate you are not as funny as they seem... Obviously, since they're only things that irritate you. There is a potential for humor there, but I think a lot of fledgling comedians like myself are ego-centric enough to think that what burns their behinds makes for good comedy... and I don't think that that's true for the most part. Then again, delivery matters as well.

I could go on forever about how the weak-kneed little men who scurry away when you try to make eye contact... how much they bother me... when they rear and avert their eyes, as if you're undressing them with your eyes when you ask them 'which floor' in the elevator. Working in the 'tech' industry, I work in an environment that's infested with these little creatures.

I could also say something about how it seems to me that people in the Northwest do their share of moping and whining... but then I've attributed most of this behavior to over-consumption of tofu-products (high in estrogen) and the constantly gloomy weather.

Also, I often find that the things that really burn me are things that most people find acceptable, bearable, or even normal. So perhaps being irritated or showing my irritation isn't the best way of handling these subjects. Maybe, it's simply better to point out how absurd these situations may be. For instance, I was driving to work and listening to the radio. I happened to rest the dial on a morning talk-show. It's one of your average shows with the average joe morning radio dj's who may remind you of the spouting jackass at your work who hangs around your cubicle entry or the snack area trying to make small-loud talk with his office mates. A woman calls in to ask for advice...

First of all...I have to ask this woman... why is she asking radio dj's for advice. If they could actually give this sort of advice, they probably wouldn't be a morning talk-show host.

Her question (in a very small nutshell) was should I pursue a love interest over a career. In a cherry pit, or otherwise- "Should she go for 'love' or for 'money.'" As a result, this woman had dozens of men calling in urging her to make the choice for "love." One man insisted that she 'needed someone to grow old with.' I don't even want to apologize for what may be perceived as the rantings of a bitter and jaded woman, but doesn't it seem that you take a chance at 'love' any way? Why sink all your hopes into one 'leaky' fucking basket? If true love happens, it happens. If something will last and stand the test of time, it will. But I think many people including men (and I'm assuming that those men who called in that morning aren't immune to such a syndrome) have made some shitty mistakes in terms of the partners they've picked because they're more concerned with NOT BEING ALONE... than WHO THEY WILL ACTUALLY END UP WITH.

It doesn't make any sense to me... how stupid people are... it probably doesn't make any sense to anyone. So let's just leave it be for now, Imo.

Tools

Thank you Microsoft for releasing your beta version,
The constant headache it's caused has been quite a diversion,
I'm not quite sure why you'd release until you're sure it works?
I guess pre-mature jack isn't just for jerks...

This was stupid and peurile for sure, but I needed to vent.


This is a long and involved story...

And I'll probably have to come back to it every now and then....

I did have a visit with my little God daughter on Sunday. Now, it seems a bit out of character for me to be a 'god-parent.' I really feel somewhat uncomfortable with the title, since... I ... uh...am an atheist. I suppose I agreed to do it out of loyalty to her family and also I felt it was easier to just agree to do it and avoid having to explain why I could not.

I'm sure a lot of die-hard catholics would be squirming right now at my admission. I am living a lie. I'm supposed to be showing this child how to become a good catholic and christian... and I'm actually a hedonistic, goddless woman.

I do think that in a sense I've made something of a committment to be a role model in her life... which is also ironic (maybe even laughable), since I don't consider myself to be the most upstanding upright individual who always makes the right normal moral choice. Ick, what a dry mouthful. It conjures up images of people struggling to remain 'regular' who shop at Wal-mart, drive unethically enormous vehicles, eat dunkin donuts and believe in Christ's ultimate sacrifice for their salvation.

Monday, January 26, 2004

The best thing to come out of suburbia

Are the people who want to leave as if their life depended on it.

Thursday, January 22, 2004

Conversation with my boss

....in my mind
No you don't understand...The reason why I have my headsets on so LOUD is so I can't hear you.... I CANT H-E-A-R YOUUUU! ... and belive me it's better that way. I don't have to hear you arguing with Finance... I don't have to hear Bob A... on the otherside of me tearing his hair out... I don't have to hear P & Q arguing over the documentation of server issues... I DONT HEAR SHIT!

...in reality
Sure whatever.

Wednesday, January 21, 2004

Proof of De-evolution

Our current President.

Tie My Tubes Please

I don’t normally do this…
But I got stoned the other night…

People when the get high… usually get silly or reflective… they become their true selves... I suppose....I become what people least expect me to become...I become a neurotic jew.

I'm just a 'little' stoned.
I started to watch my dog running around, yes while I was stoned… and I noticed that he was sort of skipping… or he had some weird sort of affectation in his walk… I mean to me he looked like he was moving like this…

What’s wrong with him? Oh my god he has Mad Cow. He’s retarded.

Someone had to finally point out to me… that I was just stoned.


This is why I shouldn’t have a child… that and whenever I hear a baby scream the only thing I can think of is how to shut it up; how to make it stop... and this usually doesn’t involve soothing the infant gently.

Tuesday, January 20, 2004

I am ready for work in the public sector

Need I say more?

Paradise for the Domestically Challenged

I love watching Home and Garden Television... I mean since I started watching I've learned important things like...
- How to make bamboo out of PVC
- Paint a fresco of fat naked babies in my boudoir (I still haven't figured out if I have a boudoir ... it sounds like something that has to do with douching...)
- But I did learn what a bidet was for

But I realized that the reason why I love watching these shows is... I will never fucking bother to do any of this crap myself... let's watch someone else do it.

Monday, January 19, 2004

Job Market

The radio is littered with ads that try to convince us that hi-tech IT positions are the career of tomorrow. The first thing that comes to my head is "Great... you're only making it possible for countless more incompetent individuals to provide us with solutions that don't work!" Should anyone bother the point out that there is a current of tech jobs are moving to the 3rd world?

There will be no jobs left. We've moved from a factory economy (which is a polite way of saying that there are very few jobs left for the skilless and stupid) to a service economy and now that shipping most of the tech jobs to India there's really nothing left.

I'm convinced that we'll all eventually resort to selling porno on the internet - which uh, actually is a frightening thought. If you think of the physical make up of most Americans... Corn-fed booty.

About Social Diseases...


Sexually Transmitted Diseases are a real bummer.

The worst part of having an STD is having to talk to all those people you fucked that you never want to see or speak to again.

They should just make nice little announcement cards... you could have a few in floral designs or just plain embossed white with silver lettering... like the announcement cards you sent out to everyone at graduation. Instead you'd open the card and it would read in pretty calligraphy...

"Congratulations, you have herpes!" Or perhaps we could go with a festive holiday theme and message:

"Jingle Bells and all that Crap, Merry X-mas, you have the Clap."


I know you're all thinking ... wait..... is she actually admitting that she had one? I can't believe she's saying that. I'm sure some of the men in the audience are making mental notes to themselves. "Do not sleep with this chick...(long pause) without a condom"

Okay, so I had a small bout of "the" Chlamydia...Okay, I'm admitting it. What's the big deal? It's actually just the head cold of STD's. However, I wasn't aware that the Multnomah County Health Department had
such a vested interest in making sure that all carriers of the disease were tracked down and monitored.

I came home one day to find a phone message on my machine...some woman who was really making an attempt to sound as professional as possible.

"This message is for Imogene. Imogene, I would like you to call me ASAP. I need to talk to you about a 'confidential matter.' I would like to talk to you in private if at all possible"


That was it. That's all she said!


Two words I didn't like the sound of right off the bat... "ASAP" and "confidential." Oh, and "Private." This message was so damn vague. Thank you! What the fuck was this for? A number of possibilities immediately occurred to me...

1.) I had AIDS and they actually read the wrong report to me at the doctors office

2.) Someone at work finally complained about me and my big mouth to HR

3.) Someone found out that I was fucking their husband (unbeknownst to me OF COURSE!) and was trying to track and hunt me down.


So after two excruciating days of phone tag, I finally got a hold of this woman

She grilled me on whether or not I had gotten treatment, and who my sexual partners were and if I'd contacted them or not.

"So, Imogene, how many people do you think you had intercourse in the last six months."

"Does this count people with condoms... I mean - we if we used condoms?"

"I'm afraid it does. Unfortunately... there is a slight chance that you might pass the disease even through a condom."

"So what am I supposed to tell them? Uh excuse me, I don't think this is anything to worry about... but there's a slight chance I may have given you Chlamydia, and by the way you should check yourself for the
CLAP"

"You still need to let any of these people know. After all there is a slight chance. So how many people?"

*Oh shit...I don't know* I think

"Four"... pause to think...

*Oh shit... wait*

"Six... Joe, Thomas, Sebastien...oops... make that nine."

And I think to myself..., *Uhh...Maybe it's time to take a break.*

"Are you sure that's it, Imogene?"

"YES!!! Christ on a Fucking Cracker!!! YES!!!... Wait. I forgot one- John"


The whole time I could tell she was trying so very hard not to use that judgmental tone in her voice... "This girl gets around. She's like rail road tracks in America... she's been laid all over the country"

You see what I did find out from this woman was they actually DO CONTACT ANYONE you don't want to talk to ever again... now if I knew this before... I think this may have been 'useful.' Heh-heh! I can see myself making a few phone calls to the County Health Dept…

"No, I really don't have an STD, Ma'am... I just want to get even with someone."

The horrible thing was even after my talk with her... I kept on getting follow up calls from the Health Dept. An official letter from another person (who I found out later was in the same department) notifying me that I had to contact him about a 'confidential' matter. Apparently he and STD nazi lady weren't on the same page about their contacts. Couldn't they at least get their act together? For goodness sake... I wanted to leave a message on their answering service... "Thanks so much... for making me feel SOILED."

They did everything short of shooting a locator tag up my ass. She's moving to the corner around 21st and Glisan... going into the martini bar... she's meeting with a male... it's been 2 hours... she's had two
drinks... they're leaving the premises, tag & bag, baby!

It would be a better and cleaner sort of world though don't you think... if people who are ummm… 'carriers' actually were 'tagged?' Here's a use for the "DANGER- contaminated area tape."

Hello World

This is my first entry- I think I'll try to use this place to post observations that I may or may not use for my comedy... but I think I may also resort to using for serious and angst-ridden stuff... as well. Comedy can come out of the after-birth of pain... whatever.

I work in the high tech world... what does that mean? Nothing... I still feel remorse for the fact that I can now fly with words on a keyboard better than I can write with an actual pen. I would like to write more later...