Woof Sticks for 5/17

* Despite my knowledge that it was coming, I was in no way prepared for the amount of really bad flood-related humor that I’ve been inundated with this week. Although I must begrudgingly admit, the head of sales taking great glee in announcing, “Laurel won’t be in today. I put her down for a floater”, cracked me up immensely. Beyond that, it was tiresome.

* Where art thou, Coco?

* I had intended to write a separate post about how awkward Friday’s opening night felt for me on a personal level, but I’m too tired to do so now. I will say that while I’m certainly no stranger to leading roles (*WHOOP*WHOOP*EGO ALERT!*), something about having an entire show be about “you, you, and only you”, was unnerving.

* I saw a musical this weekend and it didn’t suck! I’m actually beginning to grow some level of appreciation for them. In other news, pigs flew today in Arkansas.

* Apparently I had underestimated the need for bells and whistles to make people actually take an interest in anything. My email of a couple weeks ago regarding defcon_1’s bachelor party and my request for responses by the 12th netted a whopping six responses out of 30 or so invites. Taking the advice of the groom-to-be, I whipped up a couple of E-vite invitations today. Within an hour of sending ’em out, I had already equaled the six responses (and not from the same six). While I admit I can be a tad, shall we say, long winded, (in life as well as in email), I had no idea that a few pretty pictures and a comment field where one could say something snippy for the world to see would merit such a huge shift in people’s ability to actually say “yes or no”. Marketing may be evil, but it is clearly effective.

* I *really* hate when I get emails from people and then when I respond directly, their firewall bounces my email back. Screw you, man! I was going to compliment you, but no such luck now!

* My week at work has been nothing approximating the hell that 28bytes has gone through lately, but it’s been on the tense side nonetheless. Thursday is the final day for those in our Credit Department, who make up about 40% of the overall Finance Department. While I can recall things being somewhat melancholy and reflective when Customer Service was laid off, these credit folks are behaving like a bunch of whiny bitches. I realize losing your job sucks, but when it’s clearly the work of a corporate office located half a continent away, is there much logic is taking it out on the people at your division who just happened to be keeping their jobs? They’ve been showered with parting gifts and free lunch all week (not to mention a decent severance package) and yet the tension on the second floor this week has been thicker than grandma’s stew. I won’t be sorry to see most of them go, which is sad, because once upon a time, I might have.

* I like strippers. Just needs to be said.

* Sad to see Doug Flutie retire this week, although I think he’ll make an excellent studio guy on TV. My closest “brush with fame” remains the time he kicked my ass in a game of 3-on-3 basketball back when I was 16. Good times, good times.

* Been catching up on reading some record reviews for some CD’s I’ve either bought over the last few years, or at the very least *considered* buying. Here’s what I don’t get — if you know you don’t like a particular style of music, why on earth would you review it? I mean, I hate rap as a general rule, so you don’t see me giving my opinion on the merits of a particular rap album. I’m so tired of all these supposed music critics who have such a disdain for anything remotely melodic, as if the only way anything can have any artistic value is if it’s so obtuse as to be unlistenable. Or worse, if some crap singer/songwriter stings together a bunch of tired clichés, they suddenly become a genius because even though they have nothing original to say, the mere fact that they choose to say it with bare instrumentation and some quivery voice makes it heartfelt. Meanwhile, if a band says something equally cliché and does so to a melodic and pounding pop sound, they get the label of “unoriginal, passé, sell-outs, who are clearly pandering to their audience in order to be the next Creed”. Yeah, well, there’s a reason Creed sold millions of albums despite the fact that critics hated them too. People want something they can sing along to with lyrics that are open-ended enough that they can relate. It’s not like the Beatles were writing Shakespearean sonnets when they penned “I Wanna Hold Your Hand”, but everybody gives them a free pass nowadays. I don’t get it. When did accessible become such a taboo?

* Reading the above passage and then thinking to my earlier comments about musicals would appear to make me a huge hypocrite, seeing as how I’m technically “reviewing” said musicals now. In my defense, I never HATED musicals in the past, I just didn’t have a level of appreciation. Having seen a bunch over the last year or so, I’ve learned to discern good from bad. There… now I don’t feel so jerky.

* Our head of H.R. is a really sweet woman. She means well, honestly. But my cubicle is just outside her office, and her voice? Nails on a chalkboard, friends. Nails on a chalkboard. Thank God she spends so much time out of the office.

* I really just want today to end. Maybe if I curl up into a ball and hide under my desk, it will.

* Maybe.


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