Friday, December 30, 2005

A Lawyer's Cautionary Tale, Continued.

Earlier this morning a guy came over to my desk and said, "Hey Heather, sorry, but can I get under your desk to check the phone jack real quick." "Oh, uh, sure." He checked the jack and left.

An hour later, he came by with reams of new office supplies and covered the median table between me and my cube-mate with them. I didn't think anything of it.

A few minutes ago, a tech came by and asked if I could scoot over so he could put this new phone in. At first I just watched him, until I realized all the numbers on the phone were different, and then I asked what exactly he was doing, because I sort of need access to those lines. That was when the first guy (phone jack/office supply guy) walked up and both of them kind of looked at me like, "What do you mean, 'what are we doing?'" Right then, another lady from down the hall walked up and said hesitantly, "This is Brandon, they hired him last week to fill your position....oh my god, no one told you?"

Um, no. No one told me. But they did make sure, last week, that I knew we had this Monday off, so I sort of expected that to mean I'd be around next week. So, now I'm sitting in Brandon's old office, trying to get ahold of my boss and my staffing agency. The woman who told me about Brandon is the head of the division where he came from, and she keeps telling me how embarrassed she is for the company, to have not told me what's going on (like, even if I'm a temp, it's nice to have notice more than 3 hours before I'm going to be unemployed again, when they know I've been cut), and she said she would talk to my staffing agency about having me in next week to help her out. That way I could have a full week to find another position, which is quite nice of her.

So, here I am again. Blowing in the wind. Eating Ramen. A couple hundred dollars from homeless. It's fucking awesome.

Turtle power!

Teenage mutant ninja turtles are coming to the streets of DC. And I don't think I'm the only one saying that it's about damn time Michaelangelo, Leonardo, and...those other two guys got some respect in this town.

My only question: Where's Splinter?

Hot boys and a great story, who could want more?

I'm going to see Brokeback Mountain tonight! I was afraid I was going to have to wait for the dvd, but thankfully I talked my roommate into going with me when he gets off work tonight. I hope he forgives me if I lust openly at Jakey-poo and Heath (who, obviously I should marry...I mean, Heath and Heather? c'mon, think how great that would look on a wedding invitation). Though, he'll probably be too busy doing the same to notice. Apparently the movie is doing really well, despite not being a Christian Certified Family Friendly Movie (tm). And it's doing that well, not necessarily because of the gays who finally have a romance to go see, but because of women. Ha.

Hmm, I just got an email from my friend who saw it last night. She said 1) it was fantastic and she balled her eyes out and 2) the show she went to see was already sold out and they had to wait an hour and a half for the next one. It's only playing at one theater in DC, and to compound the problem, it's an incredibly small theater. I hope we can get tickets, I don't want to wind myself up all for nothing!

Thursday, December 29, 2005

I have my feet on the ground, and I don't go to sleep to dream.

"My bet's on Heather, she'd kick some ass."

I don't know what sparked my friend's conversation, but I overheard this last bit. From the other end of the table I perked up and said, "What? What are you guys talking about?" My friend D, the one who tried to ask me out a few times to a continuing negative response said, "We were saying if anyone got into a fight at this table, who could put on a show." I laughed. "Me? You think I'm a fighter, eh?" "Hell yeah, we know you would," from the other end of the table. I've never been in a fight in my life.

At Christmas dinner, "Isn't she cute? Look at this one. She always wanted the frilly dresses!" Me: "Hey, I grew out of that." Family, "Ha ha ha...you're so funny, Heather. You always make us laugh."

I'm the family comedian, the intellectual jester who sleeps on soft mattresses. I come from generations of enlisted military men and women, and those who didn't enlist became strong women on their own (most of my family members are women), and I've become the Princess. The girl who needs sunshine and daisies and a prepared meal with just enough seasoning.

I'm not quite sure if my friends think I'm a tough woman because I come from my family, and my family makes strong women....so even if I'm the Princess, I'm still tougher than the average woman you see strolling down the street. Or. Maybe I seem tough because I know I'm the Princess of my family, and I'm trying to over-compensate.

Hmm, right? Maybe I'll just make jokes until the feeling passes...

Everyone needs a reputation

I like to think I make an impression where every I go.

There are three other exec assistants who work near me. One of them is my cube-mate, while two more sit on the other side of a low glass wall. We chat and catch each other's phones while we run errands, et cetera.

Sometime last week, one of the other assistants came over to talk to my cube-mate at her desk. I had gone into my boss' office for a second and thought I heard her, the one visiting, say my name, so I walked out and asked, "Did you call me?"

All three of them looked up at me with a startled expression, then immediately started cracking up. I stared at them with raised eyebrows until visiting assistant finally caught her breath and said, "I said, 'Who's this floozy?" as she pointed to a magazine she was holding with a cover of a very slutty Scarlette Johansson, "That couldn't have been more perfect timing."

So. Now I'm the Office Floozy. And, like any good reputation, it has spread far and wide and comes up just about every single day.

Monday, December 26, 2005

Card carrying member of the "What the Fuck??" club

Christmas vacay has been pretty darn nice so far. The weather is up and down, sunny and overcast, clear and raining, but it hasn't gone below 50, so I can't complain. Yesterday my grandparents came over for a lovely dinner that my mom prepared and I got some nice things, although, the bulk of my gifts were the check my grandparents gave me for my DC bar waiver and shopping at the sales with my mom. In fact, I got a kick-ass winter jacket and a new pair of boots today. Woo! Anyway, we picked up some videos and plan to stay in for the rest of the day.

I did want to share a little story from Saturday, though. My mom and I just finished picking up some last minute gifts and decided to stop by Foster Freeze for some corn burritos (fucking awesome). It's one of those places that used to be a car-hop place in the 50's, where you park and the waitresses come out to you. Now it's a walk-up and there are picnic tables outside for you to enjoy your burgers, sodas, and chocolate-dipped ice cream cones.

So my mom and I picked up our corn burritos at the counter and started chowing down at a table. I had kind of noticed that there was a family next to us, just a man and a stroller and a 10 year old boy enjoying a cone. A few minutes later my mom catches my eye, tilts her head towards their table and whispers, "Look." I look over at the table and there is a fucking handgun on the table in front of the boy.
Does this look like a fake gun?
Now, it had to be a toy, I mean, it had to be a toy, because it was set down in a manner that the little boy must have put it there. But it looked like a real honest-to-god, Jack-Ryan-issue, bang-you're-dead, semi-automatic weapon.

Listen. Guns make me nervous. I've never fired one and I'm not entirely sure I've been in the same room with one that wasn't strapped to a police officers leg. (Um, except the metro.) I certainly don't think I could ever have one in my house, and the people who do seem to be totally ignorant of the dangers. Don't people know that if you keep a weapon in your house, it's much more likely that a criminal will use it against you, than vice versa? That kids will ALWAYS find a way to load it and kill themselves or a playmate? That you greatly increase the risk of someone in your household committing suicide with it because they have easy access to a deadly weapon?

I find it utterly appalling and totally irresponsible to give an eight-year-old a real-looking weapon and let him play with it in public. It looked absolutely real. When we got up to leave and I could see the tip of the gun, only then did I see the small orange tip coming out the barrel.
A good way to get your kid killed.
If I was a police officer and saw this kid at night, and he was swinging that gun around, do you think I'd wait until the gun was pointing directly at me to fire? I wouldn't have seen that orange "I'm a toy" flag until that kid was bleeding out in the OR.


Update: Oh look.

Sunday, December 25, 2005

Merry Californian Christmas!

Merry Californian Christmas!
From Two-Timing the Cosmos.

And remember, don't leave your lawn-flamingos out in the cold (seventy-two degree) weather without some thermal headgear protection.

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