Delivery Guy

I've mentioned on this blog before that I've crushed on the Les Olson delivery guy before; and most people that follow me on Facebook have read the comments about when he drops by and makes my day by just letting me look at him and smile retardedly until he leaves.

There has been a lot of discussion about flirting with him (here) and not knowing how to take advantage of the 35 seconds I have to sign the paper before he leaves.

In December, when my work decided that we were doing our Christmas dinner, I was told that I needed to "find my Prince Charming" to invite as my date. (The last time we had a Christmas party, I invited a roommate of my friend and have not talked to him since...) I racked my brains with who to invite.

I had an offer of an engaged friend to come with me. I had a friend offer her husband. And then there's the group of guys that I hang out with on a regular basis, and I decided, that would be cheating. I wanted to bring a date. Not just a friend. So who?

A mention of it at the office had the guys suggesting a few guys. One of them being the Les Olson guy. I thought about it and then had a mini panic attack. Why shouldn't I ask him? But how should I ask him? What ensued was a lot of orders for toner (which were actually legit) and plotting and plots being foiled... There was talk about luring him back to the supply closet. There were WHOLE CONVERSATIONS planned in my head.

In the end, someone always managed to come down the stairs, ruining my "game" (yeah right, like I have game...) and a result of nothing.

And then "Santa" came to the office early, bearing the delivery guy's phone number on a post-it.

I debated for a whole day as to whether or not I should use the number. I did not know the precise tactics by which it was procured, and that made me worried. All the guys bet against me. No one thought I would actually call, but they asked on and off for the rest of the day. I polled all my friends. I had mini-panic attacks. I took the number home that night and didn't do anything with it.

Then, I decided, "What the heck." And on my way to work the next day, I called.

The guys all at work said that they were proud of me. I think they were shocked. Honestly, after listening to what my girl friends had to say (they all claimed that they would not call), I decided that I was proud of myself. The delivery guy acted as though he was interested until I gave him the date and he said he would be out of town.

I don't know if that was an excuse, the truth, or whatever. I did it. And I did it without actually having a panic attack and without feeling dashed to pieces when it didn't end up as a success. It wasn't that hard after all.

We've had one order of toner since then, and the delivery guy didn't come.

That's not really a good sign. Was he sick that day? Out of town? Did he have his whole route changed because of me? It's hard to know. I hope not, because that would be really dumb. Even though he turned me down, I am not embarrassed to interact with him (remember how he's in my office for 35 seconds per delivery?), so if he's embarrassed or what, afraid I'm going to jump him? then that's stupid.

I ended up finding a date to take to the Christmas party. That was after making a foolish misjudgment and asking someone I shouldn't have, then calling and persuading him to admit that he'd probably stand me up and deciding to call the whole thing off. I found my date randomly, and it ended up being a really good night.

Of course, if this follows tradition, I will likely never talk to him again.

Whatever.

Sunday Drive

I've been working on our new company website for a long time now, and one of the things that we have been desperately needing is pictures of our projects. So Sunday, I decided to make use of Megan, and her camera, and we took off for a little adventure.

We headed towards Fairview, where KMA designed the Fairview City Dance Hall addition and remodel. Only, Garmin decided that Fairview and Fountain Green are the same place, so we took a slight detour while we rerouted.

It was a good thing that I was driving the company vehicle, and not my own little car. Temperatures were in the 90s the whole trip, and the sun was out hard. Needless to say, Megan and I were suffering with our sunburned bodies (Megan much more than I was) and we were grateful for the A/C.

After we got the business taken care of, we did weird things like singing and dancing in the gazebo, and then we were on our way to the next stop.

We stopped in Manti first, though, because we drove right through it. And how can anyone not see the Manti temple and not need to stop and take a picture? We spent some minutes taking pictures, dancing with the statues and playing in the fountain.

We were originally going to head to Monroe and then work our way back up, but it ended up that we were going to have to go straight through Salina and Richfield first, anyway, so we did everything in reverse order of what I planned. Which actually turned out to be a good thing.

Garmin again played a trick on us and we found ourselves on some really random, country road that had lots of BIG BIG BIG...cow...BULLS! With the biggest horns I'd ever seen. In fact, I just googled images of bulls  and the only type of bull it could have been was a Longhorn.

I don't think I've ever seen one in person...

He was too far away to get a decent picture, and kept turning around on us.

No one will understand it, but I think Megan and I were both in tears from laughing so hard, and then because our (Megan's) sunburns hurt.

We made it to Salina and took pictures of a middle school and an elementary school that were both within a block of each other. Then, we headed to Richfield and shot the district office, the high school, an elementary... and the coolest LDS church building I've ever seen.

We headed to Monroe, and discovered Elsinore. There's really not much to either town, except old dilapidated buildings. There was one in Monroe that I really want to buy and restore. It is literally a pile of standing sticks, but looks so old and interesting that I drove around the whole block trying to figure out what it used to be. My guess is a school or a church. It was for sale, too. Too bad I don't have any monies for anything like such as.

We found ourselves on the road back home, but had to take one last picture stop. We stopped in front of the Sevier Bridge Reservoir. It was really windy.

We might have taken more pictures here, but Megan's camera decided to start acting a little lazy. We weren't exactly sure what the problem was (and I was horrified, because it stopped working while I was using it!) so we sat in stony silence for about 15 minutes, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"Hey... remember how we used to fix the old Nintendo game systems? I'll laugh if all you have to do is pull out the battery, blow on it, and it works again!"

So Megan pulled out the battery pack, blew on it, blew in the camera for good measure, and.... WA LA!!! That trick is magic. I almost feel sorry for the kids that grow up without an old Nintendo game system because they'll never realize the magic of blowing hot air onto stuff and its remarkable healing powers.

By the time we got back to Provo, we were tired, and I was desperate to see the pictures.

I think we got some really good ones, for both work and between the two of us. I am also convinced that this is the best way to do road trips. Frequent stops for picture breaks and no time limit seems to be what makes road trips BIG BIG BIG fun!

Earthquake Strategies

Today in our office meeting, my boss told us that we needed to come up with an evacuation/strategy plan for if we were to experience a major earthquake while we are in the office. I sit outside the conference room during our meetings so I can answer the phone, but he said my name so I stood in the doorway and listened as they plotted out how they would leap from the windows and run out the door in four seconds flat.

The main topic of discussion was how to contact their families, since they all have wives and children who would, of course, be wondering about them. And I'd imagine that if something drastic were to happen, they would all want to get to their families as quickly as possible. I-15 would be a parking lot, and so there was some talk about taking railroad tracks and such down to Payson and Spanish Fork where the majority of them live.

Since Kevin included me when he said that we should know what we are doing, I thought of what I would need to do. Since I wouldn't really have anyone that I would be desperate to seek out (i.e. husband, children, etc.) I imagined all sorts of leisurely time while the rest of my world would be surrounded with chaos, panic, and a sense of urgency. In theory, if I were left unharmed, I could start walking back towards my apartment and maybe stop to administer my rudimentary first aid to any of those who had been hurt.

Kevin said that it was proven that though phone calls during catastrophe don't always go through, but text messages do; so I imagine that I would shoot off a quick text to my parents who would be tucked safely away in Ohio and would probably be wondering about me (if they had heard on the news what happened) and then... I guess I would want to know what happened to the few possessions I have at my apartment. If my car were crushed by trees, I only live some 2.5 miles away from work, so I could walk that easily enough -- provided there weren't some gaping hole or crack formed from the earthquake.

So what do I need to do if there is a giant earthquake in Utah? I suppose I ought to just survive it. And then... nothing.

Maybe I will get some water bottles and put them in my car, so I have access to those at least.

Interior Decorating

The office I work in gets a lot of compliments. We work in a historical neighborhood and Kevin has done a really great job preserving the integrity of our old building. While nothing but the exterior brickwork, the stained glass window and the staircase is original, a lot of it looks like it is just as it should be.

This is my third Christmas season at KMA. In previous years I've had a few red and green candles, some fake poinsettias and a Santa candy bowl to work with as decorations, but this year, I wanted to add a little more. So I asked our controller/Kevin's wife if she had any extra Christmas decorations laying around. Instead, she gave me permission to take some money to Thai Pan Trading Company (!), and pick up some things. She turned it all over to me.

So last Friday, I went to Thai Pan with my friend Ryley, and we had fun making out a floral arrangement and picking out different odds and ends that I really am pleased with the end result. I only wish I had had more money to buy a tree...

I am rather pleased with how it all turned out. What you don't get to experience, is the fact that our office also smells ridiculously good because of the scented wax plug-ins that we have running throughout the day.

Now if only I could have the money to decorate my own home!

I Blame the Cute Kinkos Guy

Friday night I dropped a project off at Kinkos that needed to be done and ready to go to Duchesne by 7:00 a.m. Monday morning. Typically, last minute projects get dropped off at the the Orem store, because they are open 24-hours a day, seven days a week. It was early enough that the Provo store hadn't closed, and I knew that they could easily get the project done in time for me to pick it up before closing on Saturday. Plus, the really cute guy with the Arabic tattoo works there at night.

So I dropped off the project, flirted with Cute Guy, and he told me that he would be opening the next day and that I could pick it up any time in the morning. Naturally, I wanted to be able to go in and flirt with him again, because, really....what better thing is there to do on a Saturday morning?

The only problem with the whole plan, is that I sleep in on Saturday. I have a hard time getting to work by 9:30 a.m. or 10:00 a.m. on the weekdays... much less waking up on a Saturday to be to Kinkos bright and early. I told Cute Guy that I would be in at 10:30 a.m. and made the resolve to set my alarm early enough that I could be "cute" when I went to pick everything up.

When my alarm went off, I was too tired. My 3 a.m. bedtime throughout the week had really caught up to me, and I decided to sleep just a little longer. I still woke up around 10 a.m., but I also just bought a Kindle and instead of getting out of bed, I decided to read. When I decided to start getting ready for the day, I was distracted by my book and so I took it and read in the bath. I was just going to run over to Kinkos and get the project, but I still needed to be cute!

By the time I was finished with my bath and my book.... I had completely forgotten about Cute Guy and the project at Kinkos.

I spent the rest of the day relaxing and reading. It wasn't until I was at the grocery store later that night, picking up things for our Munch and Mingle on Sunday, that I remembered the project. And of course, then it was too late. The Provo store closes at 9:00 p.m. on Saturday, and doesn't open again until 7:00 a.m. Monday morning.

I felt awful. And irritated with myself. And frustrated. Argh!

So this morning, worried that my boss wouldn't know how to pay for the project when he picked it up at Kinkos, I crawled out of my bed and got ready early enough to make it to Kinkos by 6:54 a.m.

Aside from being up so early this morning, the fact that I'm recovering from a weird bug (yesterday I was nauseous and dizzy all day, which turned into chills and a fever and a massive headache last night), with a lingering headache, I haven't been up this early in months. Frankly, it's going to be a long day. The good news? I can probably leave as early as 3 p.m. or 4 p.m. today. :)

My Love Nest

Sometimes, it's nice when married people are concerned about my love... my lack of a... love life. I mean, it can be overbearing, and you definitely get people that harp on you about things that are beyond your control. But when someone shows a general desire to see you getting some action, it's just thoughtful. I guess.

It's flattering when those people, who want to see you out having an enjoyable time, imagine that you are doing just that. They pretend not to know that you were up at 3 a.m. reading -- not bump and grinding with twelve different guys. In their mind, your social life is a lot more active than what it really is, because they can't imagine that you stay up that late doing anything but partying.

So Kevin comes in at the beginning of the week, wondering how the concert was that I attended on Friday. I had been working on a proposal, but the concert started at 8 p.m., so I decided to take off. He asked, "Did you meet any guys, take them home and rip their clothes off?" I laughed. "'Cause that's what women do at concerts."

I neglected to tell him that it was a Beatles' cover night. There was no molestation of any kind. Although, I did bump into an old friend, who is looking very fine indeed. I'm not saying that I want to "rip his clothes off" or anything, but....

And then Kevin comes in from lunch today and is like, "Why do you have a blanket in the back seat of your car? I remember why I used to keep blankets in the back seat of my car."

"You never know when they come in handy," I reply.

Of course, they come in handy when I decide to take my book and go to a park, roll up my pants and sit in the sun to read and eat my lunch. They also come in handy if your car breaks down in the middle of the winter and you have to wait for hours for someone to come rescue you. (That has never happened to me. Yet.) It's always good to be prepared.

And then as I'm standing at the top of the stairs, talking to Wes and Rob, I hear, "Shelli!" And it kind of startled me, and reminded me of what my dad sounds like when he's yelling at me. (He doesn't really ever yell at me. Especially now that I'm so mature.) "Your windows are down and it's starting to sprinkle. Your love nest is going to get all wet."

I went down immediately to roll up my windows. If anybody wants to join me in my love nest (after the thunderstorms are finished rolling through) let me know. I've kept it safe from the rain.

Let's Make Each Other Fat - Beacuse it's Romantic!!

There are some people that are extremely too self-conscious about what other people think about them. Some, like my brother, think that people are constantly watching. But others, live in their own little world and don't stop to think that if they are going to sit down in the front lawn of somebody's house (or business), there's a good chance that they are being watched.

Such was the case this morning when a young couple, she with a bow in her hair, he barely filling out his supposed-to-be skin-tight shirt, sat down in the front lawn to feed each other doughnuts. They looked to be about 12 years old, but I'm sure they were just BYU students enjoying the summer morning.

"Let's sit in somebody's front lawn, and make each other fat! Here, let me shove this doughnut in your face, because it's romantic!" Rob taunted.

Such things are not tolerated in our office. They are heckled and laughed at. We watched as she used a napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth, and then tucked a different napkin into the collar of his shirt to make a bib. Then one of the guys opened the window and.... I don't even know how to describe the noise that was emitted from the upstairs window.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh."

The girl looked up in unadulterated shock and then started laughing. She looked towards the windows, but I'm sure she didn't see anything. A few minutes passed, and the sound again. The couple tried to ignore it, but it was difficult to do. She laughed through the whole thing. As did I -- at her.

When they stood to leave, Rob and Steve stood on the stairs and watched him stretch.

"Steven, he's skinnier you!" Rob said. "That's supposed to one of those skin tight shirts, and it's like a cape on him."
"Maybe he's Superman," Steven retorted.
"Maybe he's Superman," Rob agreed.

Honestly, it was much too cutesy for me. All it did was reaffirm that I have got to get out of Provo. But I am grateful for the early morning entertainment.

Just in case...

Sometimes listening to Pandora.com at work can be risky business. You never know what embarrassing song will play next, just because you liked one Jonas Brothers song, doesn't meant that you like them all the time...


It isn't always the music that it chooses to play that is the problem. Sometimes they have interesting advertisements that play in between you almost-always awesome playlist. Like the commercial about Playtex or something like such as.

Or, as your boss is approaching your desk, an ad that calls out, "Hey all you pregnant ladies!..."

Which prompted the conversation where Kevin tells me that it would be just fine if I were pregnant, but I would still have to work. I asked him if that meant he wanted a baby running around the office, and he told me that was fine. Probably for about six months, and then he would need more room to run around, and so it would probably be a good time to get a babysitter about that time.

This made me quickly scope out the office. The baby could sleep in the carrier in a little hollow right under my desk. We don't use the conference room that often, so I'm sure the pack-n-play could be set up in there if he needed to stretch out. And I wonder if Kevin couldn't mind having a little baby swing going right next to me...

Man, I'm just really lucky to have such a relaxed office. So much so that Kevin was telling me about a co-worker he had when he first started working as an architect, who brought her baby in to the office. He said that every once and a while, she would say, "Here, I have to do this," and she would pass off her kid and make one of the guys hold him. Considering that all the guys in my office are fathers, I'm not so certain that they would be completely opposed to me handing off my kid -- at least I know that they're all experienced.

And suddenly, this who thought train has gotten really strange, seeing as how I'm not likely to have children anytime soon.

Provo Historic Walking Tour

Our building is currently being polished to the hilt in preparation for our participation in Provo's Historical Building walking tour. It's been a long process that has included the coordination of deep cleaning, intense organizing and having walls painted and pictures hung. My "daylight bright" lights have been replaced with more antique-yellow bulbs and I have a new accent wall. It looks like it is 6 p.m. instead of noon because it is so dark in here.

Miguel and his cleaning crew; the painters; the carpet cleaners; the landscaper (i.e. the Lawn Nazi).... they've all come and gone. The only crew remaining is the window washers. They are a day late. Apparently their boss is out of town, and while they were supposed to show up at 2 p.m. yesterday, they didn't come until Peggy left a nasty voice mail on the boss' phone that they decided to roll in.

We have a beautiful stained glass window in our building and Peggy wanted to make sure that they knew to be particularly careful, anyway. But when they pulled up with tattoos, ears guaged, Kevin came in and asked, "Have you talked with them about the window? You better get out there, Peggy, they look a little rough -- they're drinking Red Bull!"

Not only do they drink Red Bull, but I've been watching as one of them carefully dangled a cigarette from his lips while washing the second story windows. I didn't know whether to be impressed or disgusted, which Kevin thought was funny.

Tonight we'll have about 300 people walk through our building and admiring the work Kevin has done in restoring and using the historic house our office has been in since around 1996. He did a lot of work in creating a beautiful office that will be honored at a ceremony thing after the tour. He's receiving some sort of award, which is cool.

The Provo Historical Society dug up information about the former owners of the building. It was a drug rehabilitation center before it belonged to the person who Kevin bought it from. Overall, it's a beautiful building that I like coming to everyday for work.

Administrative Professional's Day

I read a webpage somewhere that recommended a boss celebrate Administrative Professional's Day because his admin/secretary/assistant looks forward to it as much as an anniversary or birthday.

I kind of laughed at that, because the majority of us know that as an admin, the day probably wouldn't be celebrated without a little bit of probing and subtle (or not-so-subtle) reminders. Or maybe it is just like that in my office where I am mostly the only girl at work.

Regardless, I was surprised when Peggy waltzed in with a little gift. She got me something last year, too, but this year I wasn't as pushy about the reminders and the office is almost empty today. So I didn't expect anything.

The vase is beautiful! And I love tulips (there are a few in the arrangement). I hate having to draw attention to this day and say "GIVE ME PRESENTS!" But... I love presents! And it is nice to feel like an appreciated member of the team. I am really grateful for my job and where I have been working for the last year and a half.

Chicken Chicken

I didn't do anything, really, that I was planning to do today.

I was going to wake up early and get to work on time. I put set my alarm clock close to my head and turned the volume up really loud, and checked and double checked the volume, station and location to make sure that nothing would foil my plans.

Turns out, the closer the alarm is to you, the closer the snooze button is.

I did go to lunch with the FTC. We tried a new restaurant in Orem. I was going to order the honey shrimp salad and like it. Instead, I got the seafood tacos and was super disappointed. Milagros is not a restaurant I would recommend. They claim to be Mexican, but there is nothing really Mexican about the food. It is baja at best, and just gross at worst. The salsa is "meh" and they are really, really expensive for a lunch.

I was going to clean my room (Yes, I did put it off from yesterday when I also said I was going to clean... I got half my room cleaned yesterday and gave up because I had an FHE meeting).

I was going to get my oil changed in my car.

I was going to take plans/specs to FedEx to be mailed.

I did take the stamp that I ruined last week to be replaced. And I did, eventually, finish the proposal I have been sort of working on all week long.

But I was also going to pack for my trip to Idaho this weekend. Stop by the library and get a book on tape.

But I didn't do any of that. I did experience what Wes calls "Chicken Chicken". Or, what I just call, being slap-happy or drunken tiredness. You know the feeling when you are so tired/exhausted that everything is funny, you can't process file folders on the computer or think rationally... Or, for example, you are dumbfounded by your coworker when he hands you the jump drive to save a file on it and you stare at the keychain, confused as to how and where the USB port actually is.

For the record, the USB connect is not on the keychain at all, it is the jump drive attached to the keychain and dangling by your hand.

I wonder if the cover we designed will look as good in the morning as we thought it did at 11:30 p.m. tonight? I hope so. I hope that I gave grumpy-guy the right directions on how to put the proposals together. I don't think I was too Chicken Chicken to have messed it up - but, I was really thrown off by how negative and mean the guy was being to me when I dropped it off!

Yes, it is almost midnight! Yes, I want these to be done before I wake up in the morning! And NO! I don't care if you have a hundred other projects going on. Why does he have to be so negative about it? I know that he can get it done in time. Why doesn't he think he can? I really, really hope that they don't mess it up.

Why don't people understand that they cater to my whims?

Anyway, it is late now and I am feeling a little wired. Something about the cold night air woke me up. I wish they had a 24-hour oil changing place...

Someone remind me that I have stamps at Staples to pick up in the morning... as well as the proposals at Kinkos, hopefully.

Homeless Leap-Frog

Today, one of our construction managers stopped by for a meeting and on his way out, he noticed a row of full garbage bags and a suitcase just sitting on the sidewalk. He called me over to take a looks saying, "Look what your boyfriend brought you."

The apparent owner of the stuff seemed to be walking down the block across the street, and when he saw Chris checking out his stuff, he took off running. We were puzzled by all the belongings left on the wet sidewalk, but assumed that he had been kicked out of his residence.

Of course, Chris makes a big deal out of things, so pretty soon, several of the guys were lined up at the top of the stairs asking questions and getting answers like, "Shelli's boyfriend just brought all his stuff because he's moving in with her. Honest. He told me when I asked what he was doing... He just kept mentioning 'Shelli'."

Apparently I'm to have a new roommate?

Even now, he is still bringings items to add to the pile. Steven wondered if he was playing a game of "Homeless Leap-Frog." Which, is in fact exactly what he is doing.

The stranger is probably a meth-addict, who recently was evicted from his residence, and currently does not have money to rent a storage unit or find another place to live. Chris went and found him down the block, called me and let me listen to the whole conversation. He's literally carrying his stuff, bag by bag, block to block until he reaches a storage unit that is a mile or so from here. He hopes by the time he gets it all there, he'll have enough for one-month storage rental.

I really hope that the guy is OK, but I am definitely glad that he's not really about to be my new roommate.

Gay Chicken

The guys upstairs are admittedly a little homophobic but definitely really hilarious about this fact. They were talking about how recently, they've inadvertently started a new game that they have since called gay chicken.[Which, I guess is from the show Scrubs, see the video Chris posted in the comments. Funny.]

Since they work together day in and day out, their usual preference of a 3-foot distance between guys has been cut drastically to about 6-inches. But that barrier is still there, and they aren't shy about calling someone out on a "close call" or any sort of contact.

The best example, though, was after their "beard month", Rob came in clean shaven and said, "Feel how smooth!" Since this is fairly out of character for Rob, Wes decided to go for it. But as he closed the distance to Rob's cheek, his hand started shaking. The closer he got to making contact, Rob started pulling away.

Apparently they can't handle it. But the trying and then retelling is certainly entertaining.

I wish there was a way to record these conversations, because they are certainly a lot funnier as you witness them than by sitting down and typing them out.

KMA Anniversary

Today I celebrate my one-year anniversary working for Kevin at KMA Architects.

The year has gone fast and I'm still in denial that it is getting cold outside. Why is summer so short? Pretty soon I will be struggling to find the lines in our tiny parking lot -- opting instead to park on the street just so I can guarantee that I don't hit anybody. Our parking lot is super small and super squishy. It typically requires a 15 point turn to get out.

Work is still going well. I take it as a good sign that Kevin is constantly reminding me to find my potential husbands ONLY among Utah boys. I think he's afraid that if I end up with someone from out of state, I'll leave prematurely.

The things that I like best about KMA versus other jobs - especially office jobs - I've held are the following:

• I work for the most part, with all men. They are easy going, low-maintenance, hilariously funny and sometimes chivalrous. They are efficient. They still have just the right amount of gossipy-ness.
• The firm is really casual. It's not a big corporate office with corporate policies and fancy lawyers and such. It isn't a small company that is trying to seem like a big company by doing things that are way beyond its abilities. We're just KMA, and we do what we want.
• That means that my letters and proposals and anything I write can be as informal or formal as I deem necessary. I have way more leverage over the collateral that goes out, and I like that.
• We're busy. There is no talk of buy-outs or unhappy investors or needing work. 
• I'm not always busy...and for the most part, I don't have to pretend that I am.
• There's no office drama. Or, there is, but it's usually hilarious instead of annoying. For the most part, the guys are all friends and you can see it in the way they interact with each other. It makes for a much nicer working environment.

In order to commemorate the year mark, I baked an apple cheesecake. There are only a few who have been able to taste this most delicious thing, however, I made it this morning instead of last night and I was too worried about burning it, that I undercooked it. And it only had six hours to set up - which, everyone knows 24 hours is better - leaving it soupy. I was pretty disappointed that it didn't turn out, but really...it's still delicious tasting, if not properly set up. The guys are picky eaters, but they still seem to eat some of the disasters that I've brought in. So I guess that's a good thing.

Raindrops and Lemondrops....

I don't know why I chose that title.

Yesterday the weather could not make up its mind. It was kind of perfect fall weather, blustery and rainy one minute, warm and sunny the next. It was dark for most of the morning and looked like it would rain. And then it did rain for a few minutes; after which, the sun came out and I thought we were good for the day.

I don't have A/C in my car, so I often get caught with my windows down when the sun is out. And since it had already rained, I figured that it was done for the day when I got back for lunch.

But then the afternoon turned really windy. The clouds rolled in, dark and looming. And I had forgotten all about my windows. By the time there was a torrential downpour outside, I decided to go check it out and make sure my windows were up.

I looked out the back window, and all I saw was Todd trying to get out of his car and into the office as soon as possible. I opened the door so that at least he didn't have to deal with that 2-second endeavor, and asked, "Did you happen to notice..."

"Your windows are down," he was saying as I handed my keys to him. He took them without question, confirmed that he had the right key, handed me his i-pod to hold and ran back into the deluge. 

He came back in a few minutes looking as though he had jumped in a pool with all his clothes on.

Sometimes the guys are rude, crude and unrefined. They talk about things that are straight up inappropriate (albeit, hilarious more often than not). And most the time, chivalry wins out and they don't make you run out into the monsoon.

Grocery Store

Today I had to go to the grocery to get milk for work. I also picked up two bottles of hand soap, toilet paper, a case of water bottles and plastic forks and spoons.

I tell you the shopping list only because I want you to count: seven items.

Which totally entitles me to use the 10 items or less self-checkout. But when I pull my basket up, the old guy running the self-checkouts tells me that I shouldn't use that one, but move to a different one. It would have been totally easy for me to move my basket full of items to the other one, but for some reason, I felt defensive. Why was he telling me what to do?

I'm not some 90-year old woman that doesn't know how technology works. I've worked at a grocery store before. I'm pretty proficient on the self-checkouts.

So I thank him for his concern, but tell him that I am perfectly fine on the checkout that I've chosen. He gives me this spiel on why the checkout that he wants to move me to is better (it isn't) and again I say thanks and continue to unload my cart.

I managed with absolutely no problems whatsoever. Despite his warning that you could only do two to three "skip bagging" items on the smaller checkout. (I only had one. On the most-case scenario, I would have had three, tops.) I am grateful for this knowledge though. It seems like something one should know.

When I left, I wished him a good afternoon, and he ignored me.

Oh well.

As I unloaded my car, I realized this is why my friends think I'm so crusty, and I wonder what they would have done. Probably have been pansies and moved to where the guy told them to move.

Office Decor

Today at work I spent most the time watching the guys remove my old cabinets and replace them with new, bigger ones. For months I've been feeling buried, with every nook and cranny of my desk filled with something or another (usually papers and binders...) and so I asked for more storage space.

It's different working with the guys because I'm used to standing next to my dad, at the ready, so I can go fetch things. But these three did everything without me lifting a finger. Not to mention, they provided plenty of comedic relief as well. So basically, I watched them work while laughing the whole time. All and all, not a bad day!

The original cabinets.

Taking them down.

NEW CABINETS! Notice the clean counter top space? That was filled with binders, now stored in the new cabinets. I'm very excited.

Now, working with all men is an interesting experience. My boss was talking about replacing the clock (you can see the clock on the left hand side of the picture) with a deer head that he shot. Apparently, the deer had originally hung there, but the previous secretary didn't like him staring at her while she worked. The point is that men don't usually know anything about decorating unless it has something to do with a stuffed previously-living creature.

Which is probably why none of them know what this is:

Of course, anyone can see that it is an artichoke, on a pedestal. With a ribbon tied around it. But no, not in our office. In our office it is the butt of many jokes. Simply because, it is referred to as the "butt plug." It's gross, I know. But I do kind of see their point, and really, whoever decorated the office should have known the type of men we work with... even still, the butt plug provides an endless amount of jokes and so it stays.

Your parents know who to thank.

I'm going to preface this story with the facts:

I went to bed around 3 a.m. this morning. I woke up at 9:15 a.m. I was therefore, "ready" for the day by 9:30 a.m. Which means, I threw on the first outfit that made as much sense as I thought necessary for a Friday, pulled my hair back in a pony tail and tried to conceal the majority of the zits on my face. (It's been a stressful week, and my skin has returned the favor in kind.) Needless to say, I was not looking my best.


So Todd comes downstairs and says we need a treat. Which, I never disagree. Breakfast is always a good thing, and I usually only eat one when there is something here in the office.

So I was standing in line at Einstein Bagel and I happened to be standing behind a man. This man was very tan, except where his sunglasses have been in place all summer, wearing black leather gloves and a cut off t-shirt. He also had longish hair. He was older, probably early 40s and had straight, white teeth that were probably fake. These observations only took place after he started talking to me, otherwise I would have never noticed him.

He turned around and said,"That's a nice ride you have." (I was driving the Ford Escape from work.) "A nice ride for a nice-looking lady."

"Yeah, thanks," I said. I like the Escape. I wish I did drive it in real life.
"Your parents know who to thank," he says. "I just get to appreciate the beauty."

I don't really recommend that as a pick-up line, unless your goal is to completely stump the person you're talking to. I nodded my head and said thank you again, and hoped that he was the next one in line. I didn't know how to respond to that. "Can I have a ride on your motorcycle?" seemed a little too forward.

Tales from the Upstairs

I don't know if I can accurately describe the events of this afternoon. But it had me laughing so hard that I feel like I must try.

There is a guy in our office who is different than the rest. One of his "quirks" is that he has ten or so sour cream / cottage cheese containers full of frozen leftovers in the freezer. These containers, due to the fact that his wife is more infamous than gourmet, and the unknown age of these foodstuffs, are all considered to be...disgusting. And I share that opinion. Often times while our coworker is gone, we play the game, "How much will it cost to eat/lick/smell the "food."

Today was one such occasion.

Rob took the container and shoved it into Steven's face, who valiantly tried to push the container and then Rob away. Somehow, the frozen block of rice, peas and mystery meat went flying across the upstairs towards Todd, who avoided it as it crashed into the wall, breaking on little bits and rolling towards Wes who kicked it away. Rob then recovered the block of rice, and picked it up using the container to avoid contact with it. And then somehow it started all over again. The frozen rice was then pitched over towards Rob's area who recovered it. Todd got out the shopvac to pick up all the pieces of mystery meat and rice and as soon as he had vacuumed it up, Rob dropped it again.

Wes and I mostly just stood by and laughed at the whole ordeal and I'm pretty sure it continued after I left. Luckily, I think the guys chose to throw away the food instead of replacing it...which I would never put past them under ordinary circumstances.

Happy Administrative Professional's Day

Today was supposed to be a big celebration for me. When I walked in the guys all shouted, "HAPPY SECRETARY'S DAY!" and I thought that was an indication that it was going to be a good day.

But then I spent the next four hours trying to get specs in order for a job that was supposed to go up to the printers by 3:00 p.m. I made it by 2:00 p.m., but that was with a lot of effort, little fun and a lot of swearing, and semi-swearing. Let's just say that files with the extension .SF are not real files, and so it was a bit more complicated than usual. And even though I thought I had done most the work already, I ended up having to redo a lot of it. Still, now that I am reflecting, four hours seemed longer while I was working through them than they actually were -- though, I was fairly famished.

The guys had promised to take me out to lunch, but the lunch hour rolled by us quickly...I told them to leave me behind, but they wouldn't do it. We went to "lunch" finally around 4:00 p.m. It was delicious.

Also, Peggy brought me in a fun little treat as well which was very nice of her. I know there are a lot of people who think celebrating Secretary's Day is stupid or whatever, but I like it. And even though I did have to remind the guys periodically throughout the month, put it on their calendar and drop subtle hints (Hey - they're guys, after all!) They still remembered and they didn't let me forget that they had remembered.

So far, these six months at KMA have been great! (Well, minus those four hours where I really could have killed somebody.)