Sunday, November 22, 2009


My boss was the first one to catch a malignant strain of cold. It quickly spread to a nearby coworker, which was then vectored (allegedly by a poorly washed glass) to another nearby coworker, which then infected my husband and infected, most recently, me.

If this isn't pandemic by default, then the word has lost all meaning.

Now all it needs is one of those flashy backgrounds for the 9 p.m. local news and one of those scary-ass lead-ins:

A woman with over-blonde helmet hair, too much cleavage, and pink lipstick stands infront of a banner that says "PANDEMIC COLD SWEEPS DALLAS!"

"Is your head cold trying to kill you? Find out at nine..."

Having said that...

I love Larry David.

There, I said it.

Tonight, though, was the last performance the world is likely to see of his. Tonight was the final episode of HBO's Curb Your Enthusiasm, which was, in effect, a Seinfeld reunion (or the closest you'll get to one).

Having said that, it was classic.


In other news, I have a lot of sisters.

I was born into a big family, and there were already three girls, but it seems as though I tend to accumulate big sisters. Most of my friends are over 30, and quite a few are near, if not over 40. I respect all of them. That's kind of a prerequisite for friendship in my book.

I am still friends with a lot of the women I used to work with. I look up to them, I take their advice. I didn't realize how much they meant to me until I noticed that I pinned a note one of them wrote up on my dresser. It was one of those encouraging things that a person might give to you when you're going through a strange, difficult time.

It's still up there, even as I'm making my way to the other side of that terrifying time. It still means something. I still know she's there.

That's what a sister is, right? Someone that will tell you that you are better than that. Someone that will keep watch over your standards and never let you accept less than your best. Someone to help you pick up the pieces.

I am really blessed to be so flush with sisters.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Reasons why I can't get on the skinny jeans bandwagon

1) I live in Texas. It never really gets cold enough to tuck skinny jeans into UGGs. The people that do this during one of Dallas' 70 F winter days deserve universal disdain.

2) I have a rather large posterior. I did not look good in the 90s style tapered leg jean. I will definitely not look good in a ultra-tapered, ass-and-thigh hugging pair of stretchy jeans.

3) Tunics make me look pregnant. The only way I would be able to wear skinny jeans is with flats and a tunic.

Saturday, November 07, 2009

Friday comes fast

I don’t really remember ever being this happy about having a job.

Nix that. I don’t have a job.

I finally feel like I have a career, which everyone knows is more than just a gig that pays the bills.

To say that this is exactly what I needed would be an understatement. I know a lot more about myself and my goals now than I did four years ago from the vantage point of a newbie corporate serf. I know now what it takes to be dedicated, what it’s like to grow, and what it means to take advantage of an opportunity and not letting the opportunistic take advantage of you.

That’s not to say that I have it all figured out. I know for a fact that I do not. I’ve just grown enough to see that no one else does, either.

Regardless of all that, today capped my first full week of full employment. A lot of people asked me what I thought about my new position and if I feel OK in my new job. In as many words, I told them that I was pretty confident that I was made for this job.

But there’s something that still eludes me.

I doubt myself a lot, and I think that has a lot to do with my hearing loss. I’ve learned a lot about being humble and embracing the other things that make me special, but I always feel like I’m missing something by being partially deaf.

But I learned this week that even that might be temporary.

Next week I start steroid therapy for my hearing loss. I will get 3 cortico-steroid shots in my eardrums in a 10-day period. My new otologist feels that this might be the first step in getting some of my hearing back.

So, maybe soon I won’t have to rely so much on my other charming qualities. Maybe soon we can sit and chat and I won’t miss a thing. Hopefully you won’t, either.

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

Games People Play

Dave and I have this little game that involves a small plastic civil war figurine and a modified game of hide the saltine.

Here is the guy:

our guy

Here are the rules:

1. On your turn, you must hide the guy in plain sight (cannot be behind anything).

2. The guy must remain within the boundaries of the house.

3. You must acknowledge finding the guy before it is your turn to hide him.

This has just been a fun, cute little game between Dave and I. We both wonder where the guy will turn up next or where he will be perched, however precariously.

I was waiting in an exam room of the otologist's office and I was very shocked to see this:

their guy

Looks like someone plays the workplace version of hide the guy.

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

My first day, second-first day and learning the difference

I remember my first day at my new job just like it was yesterday.

That's because it was. (Well, it will be for about 5 more minutes.)

I was hoping to hit the ground running and start learning a new work platform and new programs. That would have been a good start. Only, I didn't have a computer on my first day. Urgh.

I did, however, have lunch at Carmine's. Best New York-style pizza in Dallas.

I then filled out an assload of HR paperwork.

And then I played Doodle Jump on my iPhone and checked my e-mail and facebook a gazillion times and then twiddled my thumbs until I could go home.

And then, when I got here this morning, still no computer. Urgh.

So I borrowed the computer from a person who was out today. Hopefully she wasn't out sick because I gave her iMac a big sloppy kiss for being so fast. The computers at my old job were allergic to fast. You had to wait 5 minutes to read a plain-text e-mail.

And for some reason, today was a long day. Both days, though, were awesome. Wouldn't trade them for the world.