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Month: November, 2006

I Feel Pretty. . .Oh So Pretty. . .

Yesterday I went to a doctor’s appointment *cough* interview *cough* shhh.  I applied for the position in question from a posting on Monster.  Never thought that would work, course then again I’m currently in a position I found off Craigslist (no I am not a prostitute).    I want this new job.  I want it badly. They made me take a math test. For those of you that know me, math is not my forte.  In fact, for me, math is simply work of the devil.   So when someone wants me to figure out number sequences, decimals,  percentages, or how long it takes two trains to be X amount of miles from each other, and well anything that is beyond 5th grade math I struggle.  I majored in Advertising people, if I were good at math I’d be a doctor or something.  I’m one of those people that struggles to figure out the sale prices in the mall.  That’s why I’m friends with smart people who major in Veterinary Medicine.   I poison the minds of the youth, she saves alpacas.    

Back to this job.  I’m one step away from stalking my interviewers and the HR Department (not really).  This company was rated as one of the best places to work for in Washington State.  I think they have unlimited Coca Cola for their employees (umm hello!?).    I really want this job.  The commuting will suck, but it will get my foot in the door with online advertising.  They actually promote their own employees (omg. . .internal promotion. . .new fangled idea!)!     I need to work with like minded people again.  I need to work with people who are friendly and don’t meet people off Match dot com for sex.  I need to work with people who aren’t offended if I take a personal call or *gasp* use a four letter word.  I need to work with people who aren’t socially inept.   I need to work with people who have some spirit and feistiness.  And I need to work with people who don’t get upset when they can hear a meeting going on in a different room (no really).     

Well great this means I’ll probably be working for myself in five years but if I can get something similar to the above that would be great.  And I think I found my pseudo professional utopia at the company I interviewed with yesterday.   I want this job. (I’d also like to work with people who don’t tell me things like “you look more professional when you straighten your hair.”  Gee thanks, I’ll get right on that) 

I should find something out tomorrow. . .tomorrow is so far away. . .

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A Yeti, a Runner, and my parents go into a bar. . .

There is a moment when you come back from college or just in general when you aren’t living with your folks anymore that you realize your parents are two distinct individuals, not just your parents.  It is in this moment that you also realize that your parents are also completely batsh*t crazy.  I had one of these moments after hours in the back of a Nissan Maxima feeling like I was talking with sock puppets on my hands.   Take this conversation overheard between my parents as we drove back from Whistler.  The route we take is outside of Vancouver and through some nasty bog/farm area (just so you have some background, I know you care).

Dad:  Look blueberry plants

Mom: Are they setting them on fire? 

(there was a small fire going near the field)

Dad: No I think they are trying to keep the plants warm so they aren’t destroyed by the cold weather

Mom: Maybe they are burning a body

Dad: What?! They aren’t burning a body they are just keeping the field warm

Mom: Yeah but they could be like that pig farmer guy**

Dad:  They aren’t burning a body.  And anyways the pig farmer fed his victims to his pigs, he didn’t burn them”

Mom: It would be more interesting with a body 

I think we watched too many re-runs of CSI over Thanksgiving

On Sunday I got up nice and early for my half marathon. . .and it was snowing.  If it snows in Seattle all hell breaks loose.  Its rare that we get any snow in November let alone snow that actually sticks.  At 7:10 I rolled into Seattle ready to park in my normal weekday parking spot which of course I couldn’t park in because the cops had shut down the streets.  THANKS SEATTLE MARATHON INFORMATION BOOTH!   So I paid for parking near my building and hurried to the start line.  My time isn’t particularly impressive and is a full 20-30 minutes from my goal time but I learned some good tips that I’ll be using for my next run.  Because apparently I enjoy paying to run and for some crazy reason can’t wait to run another half marathon.  Not a full marathon mind you, because I’m lazy like that.

Things I learned: 

  • Trash bags are your friend.  Jackets that are for running but lack waterproofing abilities are not your friend, especially when you live in Seattle
  • Gels taste like ass 99% of the time.

  • I need to do more hill training

  • My Ipod does not like snow and rain. 

Things I did well or am happy about:

  • My gloves rocked

  • My insoles were a savior

  • My new socks are perfection

  • I finished the damn half marathon

Kerry finished her full marathon in under 5 hours. Pretty damn impressive to me!    I was at the finish line waiting for her but I knew she was coming when I could hear her family screaming 70 yards from me.     I also saw quite a bit of nipple bleeding from the men.  So gross, and I assume that has to hurt like a b*tch.  Nipple Bleeding = not attractive In totally non-Whistler/marathon/me being obnoxious news I have two different company parties to attend this year.  And I will be going as Sassy McSingleton to both.  Apparently when one becomes single they become alcoholic marathon runners who like to partake in hot yoga just for the hell of it and then later attend company functions without companionship.  Perhaps I should post an advertisement on Craiglist, perhaps in the “Casual Encounters”*** section for a date for the company party.  You know because that won’t be weird at all. . .

Coworker: So how did you meet this guy

Me:  Oh I saw a picture of him  on Craigslist where he was searching for some “no strings attached sex” and he wants to be “dominated.”  

Coworker:  Umm

Me: Don’t worry, I brought my taser. 

And anyways, at this point we all know I have a better chance of being mauled by a yeti than dating right now.   Because I need to learn to love myself first or some such psycholoigical BS.  I LIKE MYSELF I LIKE MYSELF 🙂 

** The pig farmer thing is about this serial killer from Vancouver BC.  He was a pig farmer.  He also liked to kill prostitutes.  He also liked to destroy the evidence by feeding the remains to his pigs.         ***I am not meeting men or anything else off the Craigslist Casual Encounters site.  If I get to this point please just put me out of my misery.