Saw Evil (Ex) Roommate at The Teeter last night. Ugh.
She does this thing that drives me and Awesome Roommate absolutely crazy. When she speaks to you, she looks into your right eye, rather than your left. Sounds like no big deal, right? Get someone to do it to you. Have them talk to you like they normally would and then randomly focus only on your right eye. It's creepy! And that's what she does all of the time. Maybe it's some sort of hypnotic thing...
So S and I headed to The Teeter intent on buying a few random things. We were taking our time, and ran into her. I saw her (before she saw me, luckily) rounding the corner by the soup and the look on my face must have been priceless. I hope she didn't see it. I don't have anything against her - after all, her unexpected departure brought Awesome Roommate - she just bugs me. And I really have nothing to say to her. Loved how she introduced me to her sister as someone with whom she "survived grad school with," rather than the person she screwed over by moving out early. Again, I know I need to just get over the whole thing since her leaving was the best thing that could have happened, really.
Why do people insist on putting up fronts when everyone involved knows that we're never going to "get together for drinks" or whatever?
Long story short: you suck, Evil Roommate!
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Martinis and Boots
Oh sweet MOSES. After 2.5 days off last week, I am ready to drop. And it's only Wednesday! Stupid government, making me "work" from 8:30-5. It's a good thing I don't really do anything. What the hell am I going to do? Go to Ozio for Happy Hour, you say? Martinis? Well, if I have to. I mean, went to bed early last night, but I'm still tired and I was late to work. Not that that's out of the ordinary, really. I always seem to need sleep. But after work, I will be heading to Dupont, drinking too much, and getting to bed late. I just know it.
Wore my boots today. Tall, sexy boots that I found in London - in my size. Unreal. I searched and searched here to find size 4, which only sort of fit, and what do I find there? Size 3. Amazing! Next time I go visit K-10, I am bringing an empty suitcase just to bring home all of the shoes that I will inevitably buy there.
So yeah, boots. Problem here is that I will be walking all over the damn city today, and I am really going to regret my decision to wear these sexy, sexy beasts. It would be easier if people here knew how to clear sidewalks properly. But alas, they do not.
Wore my boots today. Tall, sexy boots that I found in London - in my size. Unreal. I searched and searched here to find size 4, which only sort of fit, and what do I find there? Size 3. Amazing! Next time I go visit K-10, I am bringing an empty suitcase just to bring home all of the shoes that I will inevitably buy there.
So yeah, boots. Problem here is that I will be walking all over the damn city today, and I am really going to regret my decision to wear these sexy, sexy beasts. It would be easier if people here knew how to clear sidewalks properly. But alas, they do not.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Maureen
So this happened a few weeks ago, and it hasn't stopped being funny yet...
Awesome Roommate works at the zoo. As an animal keeper! How cool is that? We don't seem to have a problem getting hit on at the bar because she's cute to begin with, but when she plays "the zoo card," we're pretty much guaranteed free drinks all night. Thanks boys! They're so easily impressed...
So she works with the coolest animals - seals, sea lions, beavers, otters... Best. Job. Ever. So she was playing with Maureen, the sea lion - probably the coolest animal at the whole zoo, and Maureen is retrieving objects from the bottom of the pool. Awesome Roommate leaned over the pool and *plop*. What fell in? Maureen immediately dove down to the bottom of the pool and brought it to the surface. What is that silver glinty thing? Oh balls - cell phone.
I get home from work that evening, and her phone is in the fridge. What? (Apparently, the air flow in the fridge is better than using a hair dryer. Whatever). I hear the story and promptly fall off the couch laughing. Especially since it meant that Andre the Giant couldn't get a hold of her and find a way to invite himself over. Fine by me!
And so, after a night in the fridge, it still works. So if it hadn't have been for Maureen the Wonder Sea Lion, she would have been out $400. Hooray!
Awesome Roommate works at the zoo. As an animal keeper! How cool is that? We don't seem to have a problem getting hit on at the bar because she's cute to begin with, but when she plays "the zoo card," we're pretty much guaranteed free drinks all night. Thanks boys! They're so easily impressed...
So she works with the coolest animals - seals, sea lions, beavers, otters... Best. Job. Ever. So she was playing with Maureen, the sea lion - probably the coolest animal at the whole zoo, and Maureen is retrieving objects from the bottom of the pool. Awesome Roommate leaned over the pool and *plop*. What fell in? Maureen immediately dove down to the bottom of the pool and brought it to the surface. What is that silver glinty thing? Oh balls - cell phone.
I get home from work that evening, and her phone is in the fridge. What? (Apparently, the air flow in the fridge is better than using a hair dryer. Whatever). I hear the story and promptly fall off the couch laughing. Especially since it meant that Andre the Giant couldn't get a hold of her and find a way to invite himself over. Fine by me!
And so, after a night in the fridge, it still works. So if it hadn't have been for Maureen the Wonder Sea Lion, she would have been out $400. Hooray!
Monday, January 24, 2005
Metro blows.
So I don't want this to turn into a forum for me to bitch about the metro, but seriously - that's what it's becoming. Today was awful.
Got to the station this morning - actually ahead of schedule. I was going to be early to work! Happiness! And then, coming down the escalator, I heard it.
"Ladies and gentlemen. If you are heading toward the city center, please transfer to the other platform in the direction of Vienna." Meaning: Cross to the other side of the platform and take the metro to the end of the orange line so it can turn around, pick up hordes of people, and add about an hour to your commute while you are pressed up against a window and can't breathe.
And speaking of being unable to breathe - why is it that some people can't seem to effectively brush their teeth in the morning? The worst breath ever - and you're trapped with him in this tiny, enclosed train car. And these are always the Napoleon Dynamite-esque mouth breathers. Always. At least gargle, GOSH.
Anyway, I got to work eventually. Not that there's anything for me to do.
Got to the station this morning - actually ahead of schedule. I was going to be early to work! Happiness! And then, coming down the escalator, I heard it.
"Ladies and gentlemen. If you are heading toward the city center, please transfer to the other platform in the direction of Vienna." Meaning: Cross to the other side of the platform and take the metro to the end of the orange line so it can turn around, pick up hordes of people, and add about an hour to your commute while you are pressed up against a window and can't breathe.
And speaking of being unable to breathe - why is it that some people can't seem to effectively brush their teeth in the morning? The worst breath ever - and you're trapped with him in this tiny, enclosed train car. And these are always the Napoleon Dynamite-esque mouth breathers. Always. At least gargle, GOSH.
Anyway, I got to work eventually. Not that there's anything for me to do.
Friday, January 21, 2005
Snow? Please, no.
The level of incompetence in this area increases tenfold when something is falling from the sky. This weekend, it's snow. And I am anticipating a crisis of ginormous proportion.
It snowed Wednesday, you see. 1 inch. Schools closed a few hours early, the metro had massive delays, and I heard sirens about every 40 seconds en route to car accidents.
1 inch of snow.
This weekend, 4-6 inches has been predicted, and I am willing to bet that they treat it like a sign of the apocalypse because THEY CANNOT DEAL WITH PRECIPITATION OF ANY KIND. It rains, they freak out and refuse to drive faster than the idling speed of their respective BMWs and, on the other end of the spectrum, Chevy Novas. And it's not just rain and snow - excessive sunshine yields the same results. I love speeding by them in the 'Scort while sporting the Michigan license plate and imagining them thinking, "Wow. She's crazy - going the speed limit is SO dangerous when it's sunny."
One of the funniest things to me is the school cancellation policy. I think it must say something like, "If there is a 5% chance of snow in the area, cancel all schools the night before." These kids are then in school practically all summer trying to make up all the Snow Days. Hell, when I was in K-12, the ONLY way we got a Snow Day was if the wind chill dipped into the negatives. Feet and feet of snow just gave us something else on which to do donuts.
So I might be snowed in this weekend. Not because I'm scared to drive in snow, but because I'm scared to drive in snow with all of these fucks on the road with me. Better stock up on beer.
It snowed Wednesday, you see. 1 inch. Schools closed a few hours early, the metro had massive delays, and I heard sirens about every 40 seconds en route to car accidents.
1 inch of snow.
This weekend, 4-6 inches has been predicted, and I am willing to bet that they treat it like a sign of the apocalypse because THEY CANNOT DEAL WITH PRECIPITATION OF ANY KIND. It rains, they freak out and refuse to drive faster than the idling speed of their respective BMWs and, on the other end of the spectrum, Chevy Novas. And it's not just rain and snow - excessive sunshine yields the same results. I love speeding by them in the 'Scort while sporting the Michigan license plate and imagining them thinking, "Wow. She's crazy - going the speed limit is SO dangerous when it's sunny."
One of the funniest things to me is the school cancellation policy. I think it must say something like, "If there is a 5% chance of snow in the area, cancel all schools the night before." These kids are then in school practically all summer trying to make up all the Snow Days. Hell, when I was in K-12, the ONLY way we got a Snow Day was if the wind chill dipped into the negatives. Feet and feet of snow just gave us something else on which to do donuts.
So I might be snowed in this weekend. Not because I'm scared to drive in snow, but because I'm scared to drive in snow with all of these fucks on the road with me. Better stock up on beer.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Irish Times
Ohmigosh! I got my hair cut. 6 inches! Awe-some.
So last night, Awesome Roommate suggests we go out (because we never go out) since President-Elect Douche and his entourage will have shut down the city on Thursday. We went out on the HILL, where we will be living if all goes according to plan. That plan being finding an affordable, cute, 3-bedroom townhouse in a non-sketchy area of Capitol Hill with a washer/dryer in the unit and preferably hardwood floors. Oh, it will happen. It will.
We hit up Irish Times with Joshy and Cute Paul, and it was super fun and full of boys. I drank drank drank and then we ended up at IHop. Got home past 4. Fantastic.
And so today, on my second day off this week, I am watching all three Harry Potter movies. Because I am riddikulus!
So last night, Awesome Roommate suggests we go out (because we never go out) since President-Elect Douche and his entourage will have shut down the city on Thursday. We went out on the HILL, where we will be living if all goes according to plan. That plan being finding an affordable, cute, 3-bedroom townhouse in a non-sketchy area of Capitol Hill with a washer/dryer in the unit and preferably hardwood floors. Oh, it will happen. It will.
We hit up Irish Times with Joshy and Cute Paul, and it was super fun and full of boys. I drank drank drank and then we ended up at IHop. Got home past 4. Fantastic.
And so today, on my second day off this week, I am watching all three Harry Potter movies. Because I am riddikulus!
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Happy Hour
Made a new friend at Happy Hour last night: the bartender, Mike. Love him! Because everyone loves the man that serves me (ME!) even when I cannot produce a valid picture ID. Because my dumb ass left my wallet at home in my mad rush out the door that morning. And I look young, y'all.
So anyway, this place has some bitchin' sangria - so we had a bunch. I formulated the best plan (because the best plans are made when drunk off one's ass): I would call in the next morning, take the day off, and then get out of bed only when extremely necessary. Well, this morning, I totally pussed out and went to work. It was hard, too, considering I got this fab duvet cover and I feel like a princess in my cushy, poufy bed. So I drag myself into work (or, the seventh level of Hell - whatever you like), and there's absolutely nothing for me to do. Why? WHY?
We're allowed to leave from work at 2 p.m. today to help clear the city before the inauguration tomorrow. I planned on leaving early - like noon or so. But no. Why not? Because the Bitch that We Hate (BTWH) has screwed me once again. BTWH is supposed to get her crap turned in so I can run this stupid report and then send it out to all these higher-ups at the Institution. EVERYONE ELSE can get this done on time (sometimes early). BTWH is under the impression that her shit's more important, screw everyone else. Honestly, I don't think she really understands that people here rely on everyone else to get the job done. So here I am, waiting on her to remove her thumb from her ass so I can go HOME.
So anyway, this place has some bitchin' sangria - so we had a bunch. I formulated the best plan (because the best plans are made when drunk off one's ass): I would call in the next morning, take the day off, and then get out of bed only when extremely necessary. Well, this morning, I totally pussed out and went to work. It was hard, too, considering I got this fab duvet cover and I feel like a princess in my cushy, poufy bed. So I drag myself into work (or, the seventh level of Hell - whatever you like), and there's absolutely nothing for me to do. Why? WHY?
We're allowed to leave from work at 2 p.m. today to help clear the city before the inauguration tomorrow. I planned on leaving early - like noon or so. But no. Why not? Because the Bitch that We Hate (BTWH) has screwed me once again. BTWH is supposed to get her crap turned in so I can run this stupid report and then send it out to all these higher-ups at the Institution. EVERYONE ELSE can get this done on time (sometimes early). BTWH is under the impression that her shit's more important, screw everyone else. Honestly, I don't think she really understands that people here rely on everyone else to get the job done. So here I am, waiting on her to remove her thumb from her ass so I can go HOME.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Cold Enough?
If one more person asks, "Cold enough for ya?" today, I swear... Of course it's cold. It's DC, and it's flippin' January! Gosh!
I walked out of the house this morning and the frigid air hit me like a brick. Crossing the street on the way to the metro, I got honked at for apparently not walking quickly enough. Hey asshat! Guess what? You're in a car with the heat blasting in your face, while I'm trying to keep my hair out of my mouth and cursing my decision to wear these GD thin pants. CALM DOWN. Besides, I have the right of way, walking my frozen ass in the crosswalk, LEXUS JERK.
Metro this morning - sweet Jebus it was freezing. I was all bundled up and still froze. I'm glad that the heat was turned down since I'd much rather be cold than sweating, but it really seemed like the air conditioning was cranked up to "Arctic."
And now, I am practically wrapped around my illegal space heater here at work (the director brought it in for me, so I really don't care if maintenance has a shitter). Happy Hour tonight though! Will warm up with sangria and free pizza. Yay!
I walked out of the house this morning and the frigid air hit me like a brick. Crossing the street on the way to the metro, I got honked at for apparently not walking quickly enough. Hey asshat! Guess what? You're in a car with the heat blasting in your face, while I'm trying to keep my hair out of my mouth and cursing my decision to wear these GD thin pants. CALM DOWN. Besides, I have the right of way, walking my frozen ass in the crosswalk, LEXUS JERK.
Metro this morning - sweet Jebus it was freezing. I was all bundled up and still froze. I'm glad that the heat was turned down since I'd much rather be cold than sweating, but it really seemed like the air conditioning was cranked up to "Arctic."
And now, I am practically wrapped around my illegal space heater here at work (the director brought it in for me, so I really don't care if maintenance has a shitter). Happy Hour tonight though! Will warm up with sangria and free pizza. Yay!
Monday, January 17, 2005
Yay Federal Government!
I have at least 2 days off this week. Paid. Thank you Federal Government!
The other day, the Lady asked me if I was going to go watch the Inauguration. I think she got mad when I laughed as hard as I did. I wasn't disrespecting my mother by snorting laughter in her ear, really. It was just such an absurd question - she knows where my loyalties lie, after all. Let's forget for a moment that it's going to be balls cold. Because it is. I just think that I want to watch the end of the world from my warm, cozy couch. Several friends will be there, of course, yet doing drastically different things. Waayers is volunteering at the parade. They told her that upon arrival, she should introduce herself to the police and secret service agents so that they know what she's doing there. You know, helping to keep the crowd calm, rather than do what several of my other ladies are doing - adding to the thickness of their FBI files. Bets must have a file at least an inch thick, I swear. Because she's awesome. Like another friend said, "I didn't think there were activists anymore."
When Laurel came over yesterday, I asked her what time they'd be rushing the stage. She thought I was kidding...
One thing that will accompany me to the couch on Thursday is this down-filled blankety-thing from Target. It was on sale because it is red, green, and white-striped. aHA! Nice try, Target team! I won't fall for the "Christmas" theme! They were practically giving them away, anyway. It is probably one of the sexiest things I've bought in months. And that's saying something, because the Semi-Annual Sale at VS just ended. And I bought lacy things. Yet the blanket is still sexier.
Anyway, Thursday, warm on the couch = me. Being proud of all of my ladies for standing up for what they believe in = also me.
The other day, the Lady asked me if I was going to go watch the Inauguration. I think she got mad when I laughed as hard as I did. I wasn't disrespecting my mother by snorting laughter in her ear, really. It was just such an absurd question - she knows where my loyalties lie, after all. Let's forget for a moment that it's going to be balls cold. Because it is. I just think that I want to watch the end of the world from my warm, cozy couch. Several friends will be there, of course, yet doing drastically different things. Waayers is volunteering at the parade. They told her that upon arrival, she should introduce herself to the police and secret service agents so that they know what she's doing there. You know, helping to keep the crowd calm, rather than do what several of my other ladies are doing - adding to the thickness of their FBI files. Bets must have a file at least an inch thick, I swear. Because she's awesome. Like another friend said, "I didn't think there were activists anymore."
When Laurel came over yesterday, I asked her what time they'd be rushing the stage. She thought I was kidding...
One thing that will accompany me to the couch on Thursday is this down-filled blankety-thing from Target. It was on sale because it is red, green, and white-striped. aHA! Nice try, Target team! I won't fall for the "Christmas" theme! They were practically giving them away, anyway. It is probably one of the sexiest things I've bought in months. And that's saying something, because the Semi-Annual Sale at VS just ended. And I bought lacy things. Yet the blanket is still sexier.
Anyway, Thursday, warm on the couch = me. Being proud of all of my ladies for standing up for what they believe in = also me.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
About Me!
I'm Heather. I live in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I used to live in Washington, DC. I am awesome.
Apparently, my blog is bad. You shouldn't read it. Because I am a bad girl who swears a lot:
I blog for a number of reasons, but mostly because I finished graduate school, started working, and felt I was getting dumber by the day. Also because I enjoy attention.
People/personalities you might encounter on this blog:
Mike: My wonderful boyfriend. Puts up with my shit.
K-10: Kristen. Best friend. Lives in DC. Previously lived in London. Is fabulous.
The Lady: My mom. "Okay, I love you lady, buh bye!"
Kari: My sister-in-law. She's basically awesome, and we don't fight. Seriously.
Merrick
Awesome Old Roommate: Jenny. Is awesome. Clearly. In sunny Cali.
Kelly: Friend since 9th grade. Awesomes it up in Canton, Michigan.
Heather's Body: My very naughty alter-ego.
Feel free to contact me with book deal offers and whatnot. Or to tell me that I am awesome. Either is fine. I can be reached at: heather dot dcdonut at gmail dot com.
Apparently, my blog is bad. You shouldn't read it. Because I am a bad girl who swears a lot:
I blog for a number of reasons, but mostly because I finished graduate school, started working, and felt I was getting dumber by the day. Also because I enjoy attention.
People/personalities you might encounter on this blog:
Mike: My wonderful boyfriend. Puts up with my shit.
K-10: Kristen. Best friend. Lives in DC. Previously lived in London. Is fabulous.
The Lady: My mom. "Okay, I love you lady, buh bye!"
Kari: My sister-in-law. She's basically awesome, and we don't fight. Seriously.
Merrick
Awesome Old Roommate: Jenny. Is awesome. Clearly. In sunny Cali.
Kelly: Friend since 9th grade. Awesomes it up in Canton, Michigan.
Heather's Body: My very naughty alter-ego.
Feel free to contact me with book deal offers and whatnot. Or to tell me that I am awesome. Either is fine. I can be reached at: heather dot dcdonut at gmail dot com.
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Friday, January 14, 2005
Indecent Exposure
My poor roommate.
Friday, January 7, we decide to stay in, watch movies, make nachos, and drink. She decides to do laundry around 9 p.m.
We live in a very safe area, in a very safe building. The doors to the laundry room are locked and tend to slam shut quickly. Usually when one's foot or finger is in the way. But it's safe.
She goes back down to put her clothes in the dryer. About two minutes later, I hear her flip flops slapping the sidewalk. I figured she forgot her keys. When she gets into the apartment, she's so flustered that she can't string more than a few words together. Once she's calmed down a little, I finally get it out of her that there was a man in the laundry room when she went down there, she turned her back to him for a second, and he was immediately behind her with his pants down and his - in her words - weiner in his hands. She ran the hell out of there. Thank God.
So here's me on the phone with 911 Emergency Response:
"Hi, yes. So my roommate was doing laundry and a man exposed himself to her."
"Where is the laundry room?"
"Oh, it's in our building. But it's locked, so only residents can get in there, and it's a really safe area, and nothing like this has ever happened before."
"Ma'am, is your roommate there?"
"Yes, hold on."
Cops come, write some things down, and then patrol the area for about an hour. And that's it.
Last night, we went to dinner for DC Restaurant Week in L'Enfant Plaza. So it took forever to get home. We finally get back, and we find a pair of Laura's underwear hanging on the bannister in the hallway - a pair that she washed on Friday. When she was harrassed. By the guy and his weiner.
So she freaks out, calls Andre the Giant (this ridiculously tall guy she's been seeing), and says that we are coming to pick him up so he can enter our apartment first. We wait for him to come out of his place for 25 minutes. 25 minutes. I have a raging headache (maybe it was the two martinis at happy hour, I don't know), have to pee, I'm exhausted, and I know DAMN well that there is no one in our apartment. He finally comes ambling down the sidewalk. "Sorry I took so long." Right. Because if the girl that I was obsessed with called for a big strong man to protect her and sleep in her bed, I would make sure to thoroughly pack an overnight bag. I wanted to KILL him. I ended up going inside first because HE WAS SCARED. He wouldn't even move the shower curtain aside. I HAD TO DO IT. I fucking hate this guy. Not only do we wait 25 minutes for him to get his ass out of his apartment (I know that he was doing us a favor, blah, blah, blah), but he is such a pussy.
And it's raining buckets today. Fabulous.
Friday, January 7, we decide to stay in, watch movies, make nachos, and drink. She decides to do laundry around 9 p.m.
We live in a very safe area, in a very safe building. The doors to the laundry room are locked and tend to slam shut quickly. Usually when one's foot or finger is in the way. But it's safe.
She goes back down to put her clothes in the dryer. About two minutes later, I hear her flip flops slapping the sidewalk. I figured she forgot her keys. When she gets into the apartment, she's so flustered that she can't string more than a few words together. Once she's calmed down a little, I finally get it out of her that there was a man in the laundry room when she went down there, she turned her back to him for a second, and he was immediately behind her with his pants down and his - in her words - weiner in his hands. She ran the hell out of there. Thank God.
So here's me on the phone with 911 Emergency Response:
"Hi, yes. So my roommate was doing laundry and a man exposed himself to her."
"Where is the laundry room?"
"Oh, it's in our building. But it's locked, so only residents can get in there, and it's a really safe area, and nothing like this has ever happened before."
"Ma'am, is your roommate there?"
"Yes, hold on."
Cops come, write some things down, and then patrol the area for about an hour. And that's it.
Last night, we went to dinner for DC Restaurant Week in L'Enfant Plaza. So it took forever to get home. We finally get back, and we find a pair of Laura's underwear hanging on the bannister in the hallway - a pair that she washed on Friday. When she was harrassed. By the guy and his weiner.
So she freaks out, calls Andre the Giant (this ridiculously tall guy she's been seeing), and says that we are coming to pick him up so he can enter our apartment first. We wait for him to come out of his place for 25 minutes. 25 minutes. I have a raging headache (maybe it was the two martinis at happy hour, I don't know), have to pee, I'm exhausted, and I know DAMN well that there is no one in our apartment. He finally comes ambling down the sidewalk. "Sorry I took so long." Right. Because if the girl that I was obsessed with called for a big strong man to protect her and sleep in her bed, I would make sure to thoroughly pack an overnight bag. I wanted to KILL him. I ended up going inside first because HE WAS SCARED. He wouldn't even move the shower curtain aside. I HAD TO DO IT. I fucking hate this guy. Not only do we wait 25 minutes for him to get his ass out of his apartment (I know that he was doing us a favor, blah, blah, blah), but he is such a pussy.
And it's raining buckets today. Fabulous.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
K-10's Job Makes Me Sad
K-10's job makes me sad.
After almost three years at her company, I still have basically no idea what she does. Something with data. I don't know. Either way, her job sucks. She did get to go to London to work for The Company for a year, and she did meet her super cute golfer boyfriend there, but the entire Company is so overrun by complete fuckwits that it's a wonder they get anything done at all.
They ask for volunteers to move to the UK for a year. K-10 says, "Sure. Why not. Could it really be that bad? After all, it's London, baby!" What an idiot.
She arrives in Gatwick airport and has to pick up her rental car. The next few days are spent trying to find a flat - with absolutely no help from The Company. Just as a reminder, people in the UK drive all crazy-like - on the other side of the road and whatnot - and she's thrown right into the middle of this. All I could picture was that scene from National Lampoon's European Vacation. Jolly good, jolly good. Surprisingly, she fails to hit anything. Well, that parked car in the grocery store parking lot doesn't really count.
One year goes by, blah, blah, blah. She's carved out a new life in London, met a great guy, and when the year is up... doesn't want to leave. Back to Ann Arbor anyway, and back to the hell that is The Company. Months go by. MONTHS. They are paying for her to live in a hotel since they didn't have the foresight get her an apartment. They keep telling her that she can go back to the UK as a permanent transfer, yet refuse to do any of the paperwork.
After a few more months, it's finally been approved. What will be their parting gift to her? Snatching away her 88 hours of earned annual leave. Just because "it won't transfer." Excuse me? Um, asshats? 88 hours that she has already worked are not going to transfer from their WORLD HEADQUARTERS to their UK office? What? I'm pretty sure that's illegal, but whatever. The Company has no concept of good versus evil, after all. I hope they aren't surprised when she quits after a week - that is, if she ever gets there.
Jebus, her job makes me sad.
After almost three years at her company, I still have basically no idea what she does. Something with data. I don't know. Either way, her job sucks. She did get to go to London to work for The Company for a year, and she did meet her super cute golfer boyfriend there, but the entire Company is so overrun by complete fuckwits that it's a wonder they get anything done at all.
They ask for volunteers to move to the UK for a year. K-10 says, "Sure. Why not. Could it really be that bad? After all, it's London, baby!" What an idiot.
She arrives in Gatwick airport and has to pick up her rental car. The next few days are spent trying to find a flat - with absolutely no help from The Company. Just as a reminder, people in the UK drive all crazy-like - on the other side of the road and whatnot - and she's thrown right into the middle of this. All I could picture was that scene from National Lampoon's European Vacation. Jolly good, jolly good. Surprisingly, she fails to hit anything. Well, that parked car in the grocery store parking lot doesn't really count.
One year goes by, blah, blah, blah. She's carved out a new life in London, met a great guy, and when the year is up... doesn't want to leave. Back to Ann Arbor anyway, and back to the hell that is The Company. Months go by. MONTHS. They are paying for her to live in a hotel since they didn't have the foresight get her an apartment. They keep telling her that she can go back to the UK as a permanent transfer, yet refuse to do any of the paperwork.
After a few more months, it's finally been approved. What will be their parting gift to her? Snatching away her 88 hours of earned annual leave. Just because "it won't transfer." Excuse me? Um, asshats? 88 hours that she has already worked are not going to transfer from their WORLD HEADQUARTERS to their UK office? What? I'm pretty sure that's illegal, but whatever. The Company has no concept of good versus evil, after all. I hope they aren't surprised when she quits after a week - that is, if she ever gets there.
Jebus, her job makes me sad.
70 Degrees
It's 70 degrees today. In DC. In January. Why?
I mean, it's not that I'm complaining. This way, I get to wear my awesome new trench coat and not have to worry about losing my gloves. Hilariously enough, it seems that a good third of people here are completely clueless to the greatness that is The Weather Channel. This morning, the metro was packed with hats, scarves, and wool peacoats. Um, people? 70 degrees.
One could bet that these people will have finally gotten the weather memo by Saturday, but it's going to be back to a NORMAL high of 30 by then. Ridiculousness will ensue.
I mean, it's not that I'm complaining. This way, I get to wear my awesome new trench coat and not have to worry about losing my gloves. Hilariously enough, it seems that a good third of people here are completely clueless to the greatness that is The Weather Channel. This morning, the metro was packed with hats, scarves, and wool peacoats. Um, people? 70 degrees.
One could bet that these people will have finally gotten the weather memo by Saturday, but it's going to be back to a NORMAL high of 30 by then. Ridiculousness will ensue.
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