Gore + Chic = Tres Chic

Or so the people at www.skinbag.net would have me believe. But it only makes me want to disgorge my lunch. Besides, I already have a bag. It's made of real skin, not the synthetic kind and it makes the perfect accessory.

Speaking of skinbags, Terri Schiavo has finally kicked it. Part of me was hoping she'd make it until Friday (April 1st) but I'm glad it's finally over for her and her husband. Her parents on the other hand seem determined to hang on to their anger the same way they clung to their daughter's empty shell. And that's all she was. Her brain was 80% gone but they wouldn't accept she was never coming back.

Instead, they wasted fifteen years living in denial that their daughter died in 1990. Fifteen years praying to god to give them what they wanted instead of accepting what they had.

I hear that grief has five stages; disbelief, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance. Sadly for these people, they used their faith as a crutch and never got past stage 3 so they prayed for the impossible every night and twice on Sundays. But that's their own fault, not god's.

Although they prayed to an almighty god, I don't think they will ever believe what happened was god's will. They can't imagine that god runs the world without consulting with them and listening to their prayers so he knows what to do next.

Another nail

has been driven in the casket of my "career." That's what I told my boss today. Not only do I have to do the job I had to do last month but I also have to take up someone else's slack. And!....I have to pretend not to notice when other people can't do their job correctly. Because if I get impatient with incompetent colleagues, they will complain to management about me and my "attitude." I suppose it's too much to expect someone to know how to do their job correctly after seven years. I should know better than to sigh audibly when others feign stupidity.

Today's Obituary

Someone at work died today. He didn't work in my department but I knew him to see him. He used a motorized wheel chair to get around.

I felt guilty sometimes because I could hear the motor of his scooter as he came into the bathroom when I was using the handicap stall. I'm sensitive to the needs of others and I don't normally go for the handicap stall first but whenever I did this guy would not be far behind. I always felt bad making him wait.

Everyone knew who he was because there aren't that many visibly handicaped people in my building and we saw him often. We all knew the hum of the electric motor as he passed through on his way to and from lunch.

The poor guy wasn't much older than me. A lot of people at work (in my opinion) drop dead unexpectedly. I think it's a sign I need to find a new line of work.

No More Tears (Enough is Enough)

I was happy a few weeks ago because I was transferred and I finally got rid of my boss. But as I had pointed out, nothing lasts forever and it was only a matter of days before management made some changes to my job that are.....well....intolerable. Especially for someone with a degree. They may as well ask me to clean the bathrooms during my break because as far as I'm concerned the work they want me to do is beneath me. Pardon my arrogant overeducated ass but I did not go to school to do some of the shit they want me to do.

I made it clear to my boss that I'm looking for other work. She asked if there was any training the bank could arrange that would enable me to do my now-modified job. The question itself was as much an insult as a joke because anyone who can read talk can do it. I answered "Yes, resume writing and bahavioural interview techniques".

I'm not the only one who's pissed. If it wasn't for the fact I'm going to have a mortgage soon, I might have given my resignation last week and taken my chances landing a new job.

I feel bad for the people who are going to stay but not bad enough to keep them company. I can already hear people making up excuses as to why they can't move on to another job (the drive, the change in hours, the requirements, blah, blah, blah..). If they put as much energy into their resume as they did into fabricating excuses they might actually get jobs that make them happy.

My Alma Mater

God love them. They keep sending me literature. Next to the Cystic Fibrosis Society (or whatever they're called) they are the most persistant at trying to attract my attention and my money.

The newsletter they just sent is full of the achievements of my peers. They have a section in the back where list people and their recent achievements. It makes me want to throw up. Not because I'm an underachiever. But because for some people, the competition never ends. Apparently, being appointed Chief Financial Officer of a major company is not it's own reward. One must run an ad in the newsletter and rub it in to the rest of us who haven't made the cut.

I should put something in for myself. It would read like this: "Top Dog '95, is still waiting patiently for his job to become more challenging. Having had no official promotion for 2 years he's feeling a bit stale and is finally getting off his ass and looking for more suitable work.

Boobalicious

I've heard a Japanese company has developed a chewing gum that enhances breast size. It looks like they've done their homework and proved the stuff works. Too make it a success, I think they'll need the right name but some of the best brand names have been taken, like Double Bubble.

I wonder if they'll make a gum that make your penis grow. They could call it Bazooka or Big Red.

Top Dog: Evil tenant

My time living in my apartment has been torture. I hate my neighbour upstairs. I hate their music, their TV shows and their shouts in the hallway. I hate the way the slam the doors every fucking day and I hate hearing their beer bottles rattle when they are stocking up for a party.

It's nothing personal. But they're annoying to live with. I'm pissed off at my landlord too because he wouldn't do anything about the noise despite all my complaints. Now that I'm leaving, I have my chance to piss him off.

Contrary to previous posts, I am evil sometimes. I was in denial about that until Flatlinegirl reminded me I was definitely evil (not including my aberrant sexual behavior which make me even more evil).

I couldn't move out of here without knowing I had the last laugh on my landlord. Now that I've given my notice, he's showing the apartment to prospective tenants and I'm making my apartment as unattractive as possible. I have a checklist of things to do before anyone's brought through:

• Open windows a crack to amplify noise from passing traffic.
• Open blinds to show off egg on front window which has not been cleaned since it was thrown there on Devil's Night.
  
• Turn TV off so neighbour upstairs can be heard playing music, walking, vacuuming or whatever.
• Run hot water 5 minutes before scheduled visit so noisy hot water heater roars into action when everyone arrives.
• Leave as everyone is coming in and slam downstairs door on my way out so prospective tenants can tell how thin the walls are.

I've also started packing even though I don't take possession of my new place for six weeks. I don't need six weeks to pack. But I do need to pull everything I own out of the closets and spread it about the apartment to make it seem small and cramped. I've also got empty boxes stacked strategically so it looks like I'm packing.

A certain evil cub suggested that I set some mouse traps where they can be seen. I'd already thought of it and I would do it if I wasn't afraid that my cat would hurt herself with them. Maybe I'll invest in some roach motels and ant traps.

Supposedly, he's advertising this place as a two bedroom apartment. D was here yesterday when a couple was coming through. One of them asked "where's the second bedroom?" and D said "We've been here 3 years and we still don't know." Good thing the landlord didn't hear.

I doubt he'll attract a tenant before I leave. If he does, I'll be sure to leave a copy of any applicable noise bylaws for them to read and an ample supply of hearing protection.

It's fun to be evil.

Nothing lasts forever

Not even bad shit. I wouldn't go as far as to say I hated my boss but I'm confident she didn't like me. She's from one those backward places on the planet where free elections are novel and the government refused to pass a bill that supported gay rights because it would have promoted homosexuality and loosened morals.

She's religious in a way that makes me uneasy. I overheard her in a conversation with some other faithful employees while she said (seriously) that all the recent earthquakes, volcanoes, tsunamis and stuff was concerning. Maybe, she said, god is mad because of what people are doing to the planet. (?)

I think it was a mistake to tell her I was gay. I was feeling comfortable with myself that particular day and I could see she almost pissed her pants. I worried that I had done the wrong thing. My fears were confirmed over time as I noticed I would get in shit for stuff that would get overlooked when my colleagues did the same thing. I would work my ass off without recognition and when someone else would accomplish something similar to me, they would get rewarded.

I could have confronted it but I decided it would be better to ride it out because it was a matter of time before the powers that be (management) realigned our department and I would be rid of her. The day arrived last Friday when I got moved and I got a new boss to report to. I was delighted. So were my colleagues who also got moved with me. We've concluded that she got rid of us because she has a problem with each of us. She kept all the best sales people, the religious and the brown skinned in her department.

I don't care in the least. My new boss was my boss a few years ago and we get along well. She always jokes aloud that I'm her favourite and she gives me lots of extra work to do (which makes me invaluable and raised my profile). I'm glad I didn't quit. I feel like I have a new job.