The One with the Corporate Bullshit

As you can see from the title, I've had the pleasure of being pulled into a purely "corporate America" project this week. Rather than lament my need to come up with some other way to support my shopping habbits, I thought I would begin a discussion of favorite bullshit lines your superior hands out like it's freakin' candy.


I'll start you off:

"I think this will be a great opportunity for you." really means "I don't have time to do this shit and I need you to cover me."

"This will give you exposure to some key movers and shakers." means "I'm sticking your ass on the line so my precious fanny won't get burned."

And, of course: "This is due by close of business tomorrow." means "You will not leave this office until 5 p.m. tomorrow. Better load up on the joe."


I know you've got some good ones. Give The Office some material, they're running low.

The One Where I Reconnect With a Family Member

I know I rip on my family a lot on this blog, so I wanted to share something really nice that happened to me today.

I have a myspace account. I have to say that I find myspace ridiculous, and I thought it was mostly for teenagers, but several of my college friends set up profiles and asked me to join. They're really silly about it, and I don't have a lot of time for another online thing, so I resisted joining for awhile. Strangely, now, I'm really glad I did, mainly just because of the massive volume of people who are on it. I'm now hearing from college friends that I haven't heard from in years. I've found old high school friends on there and reconnected with them.

And, today, the myspace account truly paid off because I reconnected with a family member that I shouldn't have lost track of.

I grew up white trash, more so than I will ever admit on this blog, and most of my family is very backward in the way they feel about women and other races. It's very hard to stay friends with family members who I was very close with growing up because of how different our views on life are. I don't know how many of you experience this (of course you do, Mon, since we have the same family :), but it's very hard to balance how much you love your family with how much you disagree with their philosophies. So I moved to Los Angeles and pretty much never talk to anyone from that time in my life.

Today, one of my cousin's oldest son invited me to be his friend on myspace. He has two other brothers and when they were little boys, Mon and I hated them. They were always tormenting us and terrorizing our stuff. But they grew into wonderful young men and the oldest actually used to visit me at KU and go to basketball games with me. But once I moved to Dallas, I never talked to him. The only time I've seen him since I graduated from college was at my grandma's funeral just after I moved to Los Angeles. I can't tell you how thrilled I was when I clicked on his name to see who he was and saw a picture of him -- looking EXACTLY like his dad, by the way -- smiling back at me. Looking through his page, I realized how much we had in common in spite of our differing philosophies, which I'm sure he's outgrown in much the same way that I have.

I immediately sent him a message telling him how happy I was to hear from him and how I couldn't wait to get to know him as an adult. He immediately wrote me back that he was psyched to see that I didn't hit the "deny" button and that we needed to get together soon because he missed me so much. Then, he said that he had been trying to get my cousin, who I was once very good friends with, to join myspace as well and when he told him that he had located "like only the coolest person in the world" on myspace that he thought this cousin would also join.

It's amazing how such a brief encounter with a family member can make you feel so good. (It can have the exact opposite effect, of course, and often does.) But it's always nice to remember that no matter how different you are and no matter how long that you go between visits, you always have a connection with the family you knew as a child. I hope we continue to keep in touch. I certainly won't be canceling my myspace account any time soon.

The One with the Craft Fair in Hell

So last weekend, I tried something new. And I learned a LOT. I learned just how hot 100 degrees really is. I learned that folks in Atchison, KS prefer Nascar pillows and popcorn blouses (don't ask) to my stuff. I learned that my precise breaking point is at 5 p.m., after sweating all day and selling virtually nothing, ripping my jean skirt while heaving a huge tent into the back of my Jeep, being somehow lost in this tiny god-forsaken hot-plate of a town, the air conditioner finally starts working and my freakin' window won't go up. When I stop and get out to manually force it up, it's so hot it burns the palms of my hands. Do I break down and cry? Oh no. I curse like a sailor, grab some damn paper towels and wrestle that window all the way up, providing quality entertainment to the group standing around watching me. THANKS FOR THE HELP, by the way.

Thank goodness I had my new friend Jill there. She saved my sanity. Plus her mom brought us hand-held, battery-operated fans. But for those fans, you would be coming to my funeral after I had a heat stroke and died right there at the Amelia Earhart Festival. Amid the 60 year-old women in tube tops.

Oh, I know you think you see some crazy stuff out there in So. Cal. But it is ONLY in the Midwest that you will see a grandma in a handmade halter top, constructed from an old green sweatshirt and held onto her leathery body with but a thin string across her back [hold on while I throw up a little bit at the mere memory], sprinting BACK to the Nascar pillow booth to snatch up the other tin man ... that's right, a tin man made out of soup and Folgers cans. You know, she HAD to run in case one of the other 5 people at the fair wanted to buy it.

I was bitter for a day. But then I got over my heat exhaustion and looked on the bright side: if I could make it through the Amelia Earhart Festival in July, I can make it through ANY craft fair ...

... but I think I'll stick to the Internet for a while. At least until fall when the craft fairs move inside to the world of electricity.

The One With Chubbs' Birthday

Sometimes, weather creates memories for me, just like a smell or a song on the radio might. It doesn't happen that often out here because the weather is always the same. Like when I was growing up, the wind would change a certain way and it would remind me of football season, going on walks before the game because I was too nervous about the Cowboys' upcoming opponent. The wind never changes that way out here, so I never get that memory anymore. But lately, the weather has been a lot like it used to be in Texas.

The other night, Ross and I were leaving a restaurant and it was warm with a cool breeze, like it used to get in Arlington during the summer of my internship. Once it got around midnight and I was leaving work, there was this cool breeze that broke through the hot air and I would lie outside my apartment and watch the airplanes fly over. That was the best summer of my life. Today, it reminded me of Texas because it was 90 degrees this morning and then started raining. The rest of the afternoon, it was sunny and humid. But we have a nice beach breeze, so it's not too much like Texas.

Anyway, yesterday was Chubbs' birthday. I made him a cake and bought him some presents. It's funny how dogs get which present you give to them. At Chronikah, I always notice the dogs have a special affinity for the prestents that were given to them, even though they'll switch around and play with the other gifts. Yesterday, Chubbs, who never guards anything, was guarding his yellow chick (that he picked out at the pet store himself) and the mongoose that Ross gave him by hiding under the chair and growling at Fenway.

To be fair, though, Muggsy has attacked him four days straight. I'm sure he's not in a great mood. It's been so hot that Muggsy hasn't been wanting to go far when we exercise, so now he has all this anxious energy again because he's not getting enough exercise. I've been remedying that this weekend, even walking a mile in a downpour at the beach. I hope I can get him calmed down before his grandma comes to visit next weekend.

OH and one more thing -- I met my new boss Friday. She seems really nice, very down-to-earth, not very Southern California. I liked her a lot. When I was walking around introducing her to everyone as my new boss, she got really embarrassed and asked to be introduced as my colleague. She said she had a very loose management style and would manage me however I want to be managed. She said she knew we had balanced lives and she expected us to work to live, not live to work. She has a lot of really good ideas and said she wanted us to think of all our goals for ourselves and our department and how she can help us reach them. I think she will work out really well. At least she has to be better than my last boss!!

The One With the Unhappy Customer

Last night before my dog class started, with nine dogs coming to their first class, an off-leash Rottweiler came running into my class. Let me just say that I have no breed discriminations. I love Rotties. I had one as a childhood pet, and I have a mix right now. I was not scared of the dog. But prey drive can kick in at any time, and I have three white fluffy dogs in my class. Everyone was uncomfortable.

Seeing the dog and not the owner, I took the dog by the collar when it ran up to greet me. It was clearly friendly. The guy came around the corner and said, "Don't panic."

I said, "I'm not panicking, but I have a class right now, so we need to get this dog on a leash." I said this in my most friendly, Midwestern voice.

He said, clearly upset, "Well, I didn't KNOW that."

I said, "It's OK. Let's just get him on a leash."

He's quite agitated now and says, "I never keep him on a leash. He doesn't need a leash."

I said, "Well, sir, it's store policy, so I would appreciate it if you would comply."

He said, "Well, why don't I just leave."

I said, still very sweetly, "That's fine, sir, thank you."

He said, "I hope no one's married to you because you're a horrible person. I don't know why you're acting like this." (You should have heard my boss start to screech when I told her about this on the phone.)

I said, "I think I'm handling this quite nicely. I'm not upset with you, but I need you to take your dog out of my training area."

He said, "You can't tell me to keep my dog on a leash."

I said, because I am just incapable of backing down to men who are trying to push me around, "Well, sir, it is the law."

He was so mad now. "You can take that law and shove it up your ass." (More screeching from my boss.)

I said, still unable to let it go, "I hope you don't say that to the police officer who decides to cite you for breaking that law."

At this point, everyone in my class started laughing and he stormed off. Um, hello!! Keep your dog on a leash. I don't care if it needs it or not. It's a pet store. You don't know what type of dog your dog will run up to. If it's a dangerous dog, you have an injured dog, maybe a dead one. It doesn't matter that the other dog was dangerous. It's your fault for not protecting your dog. In addition, if the dog runs up to people who aren't soliciting a greeting and runs ahead where the owner can't see it, it's not well-trained enough to be off-leash. What if it sees a rabbit across PCH and darts across six lanes of traffic? Is that a risk you're willing to take?

AND if you walk in the middle of a dog class where the trainer is asking you politely not to distract the class, just apologize and leave. My boss thought he was reacting out of embarrassment, but that's not an excuse. He was trying to push me around because I was half his age and look like someone who would be easy to push around.

I wish I could handle situations like that better. I wish I could just ignore it and not keep talking back. I argue with people in traffic, too, and I don't know why. Well, I mean I know why, but I wish I could outgrow it. Sigh.

The One with the Base Camp

Chandler recently entered an architecture competition to design a base camp on Mt. Everest. The camp was to act as a "hostel for climbers preparing ascent, a mountain clinic/emergency hospital, education centre for managing/protecting the environment, and a waste management centre (disposables resulting from expeditions)." You could only submit one image of your design.

Chandler's design was picked out of 100's of submissions to be in the top 42! From there, they will select 15 and then 4 finalist. The finalist win some pretty cool prizes, like a loaded Sony Vaio laptop. I'm so proud of him, (1) for actually entering a competition instead of just talking about it and (b) for being in the running to win of course!

Here's a link, his design is the second row from the bottom: http://www.lineofsite.info/gallery.html

The One Where Muggsy Is Safer

Keeping the world safer for dogs like Muggsy everywhere: the Redondo Beach police.

I just read in an old newspaper that our neighbor that puts on that show each year that keeps Muggsy awake late into the Fourth of July was arrested at 1:50 a.m. on what is technically July 5 with 300 pounds of illegal fireworks. He was released on a $20,000 bail.

I know it's wrong, but I'm jazzed about this. In addition to Muggsy having a better night, I don't like the idea of my neighbors shooting off explosives in a neighborhood where the houses are stacked ontop of each other and it never rains. I won't leave the dogs alone that day because I have this terrible fear that our house will catch on fire and I won't be there to save my pups.

I bet this cuts back on the fireworks next year. YES!

The One Where It's All About Chubbs

If you ever go to Chubbs' dogster page, you will see that it's titled, "It's All About Me." That's the kind of dog Chubbs is. You can see it in his attitude. "Um, I'm in the room now. Please stop what you are doing and pet me." One of my clients used to tell me that you could just see that he was thinking, "Yes, that's true. I am the most handsome dog in the room."

Well, this blog will make him happy because it is All About Chubbs.

Sunday is my dog day, which means I spend it with my dogs, not other people's. I do have class in the evenings, but it's when I run with Muggsy, take Chubbs to agility class and take Chubbs to therapy work. This Sunday was one of those afternoons spent hauling Chubbs from one activity to another.

In agility class, he was a monster. He's usually the best dog in class, and I'm not just saying that because I'm biased. He's really good. We've been doing a lot of off-leash work lately, though, and today he realized that off-leash means I don't really have control of him. So the course was to send him through a tunnel, over three jumps, through another tunnel and get him in a sit on a table. Now, Chubbs is great at doing what I say, but he's the slowest agility dog ever. So imagine my surprise when he tears out of the tunnel, going faster than I thought he was capable of running, and took off chasing a bee. It was so fast that my agility instructor didn't even get mad. Instead, she said in awe, "Wow, I didn't think he could move that fast." I was, of course, furious that my dog ran away and wouldn't come back. Because when everyone started laughing at him chasing the bee, that just spurred Chubbs on. The obnoxious ham then went on do a victory lap, greeting every dog that was standing around watching with that goofy, proud look on his face while I got more and more angry. I finally got him back on leash and took him through the jumps, but then I had to send him back through the tunnel, which means letting go of the leash. He took off again, knowing it was his chance to work the crowd again. I couldn't keep up, so I dove on the ground and tackled the leash. Very graceful.

At this point, I'm ready to pack it in and call it a day, but I still had to run the course one more time and then take him to therapy work. When I got to the group home, I was a little cheered because it was only one person this week, and all she wanted to do was sit and pet Chubbs and chat with me. He didn't have to perform the stupid biscuit trick or pretend to care about hide and seek. He just laid there while she told me that the girl he met the week before couldn't stop talking about him. She said that when the other dog came to visit, all the girl did was sit and talk about how she liked Chubbs better and she wished he was there instead. So that made me feel good.

And I knew the whole time Chubbs was thinking, "Well, duh. It's All About Me."

The One with Satellite

I recently got Jewel's new CD, Goodbye Alice in Wonderland. It's definitely growing on me, and these lyrics from Satellite are for you Rach, my hometown girl in SoCal ...

California's sure lovely; it's the home of the stars

And everybody is a nice body

But souls are like shadows; hollow inside, choked

And hiding behind volleyballs and valium and power bars

If you get the chance to check out her album, I also really like Words Get in the Way.

The One With Dave Mathews Band

Am I missing the boat here? I just got into an argument with someone at work about Dave Mathews Band, which he apparently loves. He was telling me that I couldn't compare Counting Crows to Dave Mathews because there was no comparison. I actually thought it was a good comparison for the argument that I was making and told him so.

Apparently, Dave Mathews is wildly popular. Did anyone else know this? He said that Dave Mathews sells four concerts in San Diego, then will sell out four in Los Angeles, then four at this place in Seattle that's just huge, etc. He said that he thought our kids would be going to Dave Mathews concert. I didn't even know that they had had a new song since I was in college. I've seen them in concert twice and I thought they were fine, but I wasn't incredibly impressed.

Am I missing something? Do the rest of you like Dave Mathews? Do you think they're some phenomenon that will last for decades like the Rolling Stones? Chris, you can feel free to respond, but I think I know what you're going to say. Remember going to see the Foo Fighters with Jason Pearce. :) But that just cements my friend's argument. There are a lot of Dave Mathews fanatics. What's going on here that I don't know about?

The One with the New Vacuum

So Rachel reviews concerts and I review ... vacuum cleaners. I guess it's pretty clear who's cooler. ("I use my breasts to get attention." "Hey, we both do that.") At the risk of letting the world know what a huge nerd I am ... I got the coolest vacuum cleaner ever!! My old one finally bit it. It lived a long life and served it's purpose well. What a wonderful gift my parents gave me on my 18th birthday (no, seriously). But it had lost all but a teenie bit of its suction power and was useless. So I bought a Dyson vacuum. This thing is fantastic. It's bagless, it's light, it has a lifetime HEPA filter (whatever that is) and fantastic sucking power! My only complaint is it's a pain to use the attachments. But other than that, I enjoyed a delightful clean up experience yesterday and highly recommend it.

We have some home improvement projects in various states of completion. Chandler is working on redoing our front porch. It's coming along nicely, but the roof keeps leaking, so we have to call a roofer. He's done everything he knows to do, and it's a complete waste to build a beautiful new front porch if it's going to rot out in a couple of years. So he's discouraged by that. I redid my closet this weekend: painted it purplish-pink, hung up a pretty light and bought a nicer shoe organizer. David helped me mix up the paint color using a bunch of old paint we had, then he helped me paint until I decided the fumes were too dangerous since we were all holed up in a closet. Anyway, the results of fabulously girly. I know you'll love it Rach. ;)

Maggie hurt her paw. I think she may have burnt the pad, or had a sore that she picked at. Regardless, she's missing part of the top layer of skin on her pad. I'm putting Neosporin on it. I tried lightly wrapping it, per some Internet directions, but that of course stayed on for the 10 minutes that I stood over her saying "Leave it Maggie," then was promptly ripped off. But she has been leaving the Neosporin on and not licking it off, and I thought it looked better already this morning. She still won't put much weight on it. A three-legged basset hound is a sad sight to see.

And finally, David loves Theo so much that he burst into tears when I got onto Theo for peeing in the house. Theo hiked his leg and started peeing on some wood from the porch project. He doesn't ever ask to go out, just goes with Maggie, but he had been scared to go out b/c of the fireworks. So I didn't realize how long it'd been since he's gone to the bathroom, and apparently he couldn't hold it any longer. I jumped up and tried to get him to stop, but there's no stopping it once it starts! David was just devastated. I had to explain that just b/c I get onto Theo about something doesn't mean I don't love him, etc. etc. He was finally consoled by that! He claims that Theo is his best friend, and that he never wipes Theo's kisses off. They like to play fetch together. :) How cute!

The One With the Fourth of July

Don't think me un-American when I say this, because I certainly don't mean it this way, but I hate the Fourth of July. I certainly don't hate what it signifies, but I hate the holiday that it's become. How does blowing up things and lighting up the sky with color celebrate our independence? Hey, we have this whole country now -- let's catch it on fire. Seriously, does it seem like a good idea to light off a bunch of explosives in a place where the houses are stacked ontop of each other and it never rains? No.

Anyone who loves the Fourth of July, I've decided, didn't grow up white trash, or still is white trash and doesn't realize it. If I started listing the number of things that caught on fire when I was growing up, you'd realize just how white trash I was. But I don't like to remind people that I grew up with red on my neck, so I'll stop talking about it.

Now, I have a new reason to hate it -- my dogs. Dogs don't understand what those loud noises are. They don't understand that those noises aren't attacking our house. It freaks Muggsy out. I spent the evening locked in my room, watching the Cosby Show and feeding Muggsy a treat log. It went really well until about the fourth time that Ross came in complaining that he wanted to go to bed. So I abandoned the food, turned off the television and went to bed with him, lying awake just in case. I guess as you can see, I had to abandon that strategy as well. The sound of the fireworks is getting closer. I'm still up at 11 on a work night, reassuring Muggsy that those loud noises aren't hurting anyone except me tomorrow morning. I hope they stop soon...

The One With Fireworks: Days 2-3

I guess it's a good thing we didn't spend hundreds of dollars hiding out in Big Bear this year. Our neighborhood has been really quiet. People are really taking that fireworks are illegal thing to heart. Yesterday, there was one firework that upset Muggsy, but he was quiet during the ones in the evening.

We left them alone Sunday night to go to a wedding, but when we came back, the house was in good shape. Tonight, one of our neighbors puts on a show, but so far today it has been a lot quieter than I expected. I'm very proud of Muggsy.

The One With the Fireworks: Day 1

Last July Fourth, I took my dogs out of town, away from the fireworks. I had every intention of doing that again this year, but one of Robby's friends is getting married today, so we couldn't go far. Then, yesterday, with our neighborhood quiet and me with a stomach ache, I decided to just stay home. I found this great French restaurant with the best ice cream I've ever tasted (authentic French) and this great warm goat cheese sandwich. Too much dairy for me. I had to go home and go to bed.

So this weekend is now an experiment in how well Muggsy can do with the fireworks. Last night was extremely successful. He slept through a fireworks show, lying next to me on the bed. He woke up during another, but I started petting him and he just went back to sleep. I hope the rest of the weekend is this peaceful.

I also watched White Oleander. Not as good as the book, of course, but it was pretty good. If you haven't read the book yet, by Janet Fitch, I highly recommend it. It's beautiful writing. The description is so excellent that you can feel the Santa Anas and picture the neighborhoods and emotion. I'm always so bad at writing description. I prefer plot. But this was amazing. Check it out.

The One With the Goo Goo Dolls Fan Club

OK, I like Goo Goo Dolls as much as the next guy. I even have two of their CDs. But at the Counting Crows-Goo Goo Dolls concert last night, there were these two guys sitting behind us -- arguably the most secure guys in the history of the planet -- completely rocking out to the Goo Goo Dolls. They stood up and danced irratically during every song, screaming and singing along. The guy sitting behind us said, "You'd think the President of the Goo Goo Dolls fan club would have better seats." I'm always glad to see people having a good time, but even I had to crack up at these guys.

The rest of the concert was phenomenal. The opening band, Augustana, was great, and the Counting Crows put on probably the best concert of the 11 I've seen. Forget everything you read on Ned/Ross' blog. This show was great.

It's really hard for me to explain my connection with Counting Crows music because it's much too personal. But, like I said before, it's the soundtrack of my life. At the time when each of the Counting Crows CDs came out, I felt that each one was written about my life at the time. I still can't listen to Recovering the Satellites because I'm afraid that I haven't quite escaped the person I was when I was 21. I'm happy, though, to report that I have almost completely escaped the person I was when I was 17. I'm not going to say much more about it then that because I know you'll all find it completely ridiculous that I have such an emotional tie to the music. That's what I think all songwriters should strive for though, writing songs that strike such an emotional cord.

The reason this concert had such an impact is because I think Adam Duritz is at the time in his life when he's reflecting over what those songs really mean to him. Each one was played with the emotion that I feel when I hear them, almost perfectly. They started with an acostic set that included my favorite song, Anna Begins, and the best version of Rain King I've ever heard with Raining in Baltimore mixed in and then moved to their electric set with songs such as Mr. Jones and Long December. Duritz was at his prime, telling funny stories and keeping the audience entertained. He told the story of how he wrote Long December, which I had never heard, and I thought added a lot to the presentation of what I think is their best "in-concert song." As he told who the song was about, he added, "And if you've listened to the song about a thousand times, I guess it's about you, too. I didn't understand that when I wrote it, but I understand it now." That song in particular takes me back to some specific memories of my early adulthood and has very personal meaning. To me, it is about me, and I thought that was a great lead-in to the song.

I thought the acostic set was phenomenal, mainly because I love the slowed down versions of the songs. Sang with such emotion, it's like they're being played just as they were meant to be. They played Hard Candy and Mrs. Potter's Lullaby, two songs I just love, and their covers of Big Yellow Taxi and Friend of the Devil. Usually they don't play much from This Desert Life, which explains the absense of some of the great songs from that album. The concert went so long that they incurred a fine for going over curfew and could play only one encore song, a song that reminds me of my mom because of the line, "But there's a couple of bananas and a bottle of booze."

Anyway, I thought the concert was excellent. The only thing that really bothered me were the people right in front of me who kept smoking pot, but I finally decided that it was fitting. What better memory during the soundtrack of your life than the thing you've spent most of your life trying to escape?