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no news is bleh news

I've really bent my "don't type about work" policy lately, and figured I'd bring the tangent to a close by mentioning that I have not been called back for a second interview.

(Right Said Fred voice) I'm too sexy for that job.

Oddly, I've got a renewed drive to (Eric Cartman voice) kick ass at my current job.

I've realized that I'm working with people who have come to accept me for organized, efficient, gently snarky spaz that I am. A above-me-on-the-totem-pole coworker laughed as he pointed out to me today "you're sneering at your monitor!" as I pensively searched for a fax number within an email.

And when I returned back to work from my interview, I rode the elevator with a waaay-high-up-on-the-totem-pole coworker (who is one of my references). He gave me a fake stern look and asked
"late to work today?"
"Not really, I'm returning from the *X*X*X*X* interview - I don't think it went very well"
"Why? Did they ask you to spank them or something?"

Given my sense of humor, his sense of humor, and our history, his comment was absolutely appropriate, and absolutely appreciated. My reaction was to laugh and think to myself "why am I trying to leave?" The answer? I NEED to make more money. I can live with the fact that I'm overeducated and underemployed - I feel like I belong here.

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20 bits about me

I�m still warming up to these �memes�, and was happy to come across a short one I have time for today � please excuse the generic post, I�ll be back to badass in no time.

Five items in my freezer
(chest freezer rather than piece-o-crap attached to fridge)
ziplock bags o� chili
ziplock bags o� spaghetti sauce
ziplock bags o� sloppy joe mix
remainders of last year�s cherry harvest (my cherry tree got sick this year � boo)
wedding cake that Mr. Hubby and I forgot to eat on our 1 year anniversary.

Five items in my closet
neglected bowling bag (containing custom ball and shoes)
neglected old quilt I used to constantly add stitchwork to
suitcase containing more suitcases
beautiful china set bought for me in 1981 by my dish-obsessed great aunt
kick-ass bagless vacuum I bought used for $100 - I smite thee, oh furballs!

Five items in my car
gaudy �giant sunglasses� window shade
umbrella
floppy straw hat
hand sanitizer
dog fur (from multiple �car ride?� to vet clinic � I�ll clean when this bout is over)

Five items in my purse
sunglasses
cell phone
wallet
vitamin caddy
tiny makeup bag

Five people I tag
anyone compelled to share!

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Mz. Betti Nelson (Prince Rogers, that is)

My apologies to anyone who stopped by yesterday looking for an Elvis fix.

I was very busy being interviewed for a job that would involve a real desk and a window, instead of a cubicle in a window-less cinderblock room! I managed not to toot hotdogs and baked beans, and *hopefully* I managed to convince them I'm not a freak. They did talk to me for an hour rather than call security . . .

I would highly reccomend perparing an answer to the question
"What is your least favorite thing about your current job?"

I ended up ranting about a former co-worker of mine, who spent lots of time goofing off on the internet then needed me to help her meet her deadlines, meanwhile I have my own tasks to attend to and don't want to dissapoint people who are counting on me to get things done in a timely manner. Apparently I mentioned that this gal was not college educated, and the interviewer asked me
"Why was your difference in education relavent to you not liking that about your job?"

"It was bad for my ego - I didn't enjoy picking up after Prom Queen"

Also? I have no clue why but I smelled my hand after the interviewer shook it. To my credit, she had just said "please excuse the hand lotion" just before squishing lots of lotion onto my hand. I was curious if it was scented lotion. She gave me a confused look and said "it's only Curell, the soap here is very strong".

Another no-Elvis excuse?
I was also busy eating lots of chocolate and potato chips, because I'm a stressed-out girl. If I were more of an extrovert, I'd share details, but I'm not, so nyeh. I will say I'm NOT pregnant, I'm NOT getting a divorce, I'm NOT ill and I'm NOT altering my religious beliefs.

OH GOOD GRIEF, HOW COULD I FORGET TO TELL YOU!?

Prince and his second wife recently divorced; in fantasyland, I'm able to distract him from grief by making him play guitar for me 8 hours a day as I oggle him, act like my natural spazzy self, and ultimately become his muse. Mr. Hubby has granted me permission to leave him for David Bowie, and laughed at me when I jokingly mentioned Keanu Reeves was looking for a wife, so I think he'd have no problem releasing me into the wilderness that is Prince.

Lawdy, I'm a dork. I nearly spit coffee on my keyboard reading that last bit. I exist to entertain myself, and if anyone else gets a giggle out of it, good for them!!

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good grief, I'm an IDIOT

An idiot you say? Surely you jest!

Forsooth, I tell the truth, I shit you not.

I have an *INTERVIEW* tomorrow (HOORAY!!!) that I'm very excited about. I really like my current job, and I would genuinely miss many of my coworkers, but don't feel like I'm getting anywhere. The job I hope to get probably wouldn't involve better pay, but the subject matter is facinating, and I'd be less likely to be surrounded by people who make a metric ton of money, which would probably be good for my ego.

How am I preparing for said interview?

Looking at relevant website? Check
Mentally picking out a fantastic outfit? Check
Preparing answers to difficult interview questions? Check
Eating fart-inducing food? Check

That's right folks, I've been working on a huge bowl of beenie-weenies all day. Grocery money is a little tight at the moment, (@#$%^&*! vet bills etc etc) and I had a barbeque for my friend's birthday on Saturday that resulted in lots of leftover hotdogs. I'm completely sick of mac&cheese, and was happy to use up some canned goods that Mr. Hubby's family gave us recently. (I'm a humble individual, but I must admit it stung a bit to receive food from someone. I've always been the person giving it away.)

Chances are the interviewers will remember me as "The gal with a bad haircut, huge gums, possible Tourette's and toots that smell like baked beans".

Fantastico.

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"G" rated expletives

I was writing a whiny email to my mother this morning, (yeah, boo hoo, whatever) and remembered a phrase that summarizes my feelings at the moment in a tidy, nearly "G" rated manner: "Sucks Mud"

To quote
"woo woo this summer is sucking serious mud"

My mother's reply? (keep in mind that she doesn't get that all caps = shouting)
"AS FAR AS MONEY - JUST SUCK IT UP. THAT IS WHAT DAD AND I DID FOR YEARS AND WITH THE PRICE OF GAS WE ARE SUCKING IT UP NOW."

uh huh huh . . . I made my mom type "suck"

This phrase can be used in the place of "blows", "bites", -OR- with quick modification, to mud sucker can replace "assface" or "shithead". In case of extreme anger "hey, go fuck yourself" becomes "suck mud through a straw".

I decided to Google the phrase, and was facinated with it's possible origin.

Apparently the more popular form is sucks blue mud and may come from oil well drilling areas in and near Texas. When the bit entered a subterranean dome containing nothing but salt water, the slurry coming back up the rig would turn a blue color, hence "Sucking blue mud" meant that the present drilling exercise was worthless, a waste of time, and disappointing.

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You can be my Cowgirl

I paged through my old photo albums and came to the conclusion that my mother must be keeping all the "bad outfit" photos for her own nefarious purposes. However, I promised a "my parents dressed me up to entertain themselves" photo:

My grandparent's farm in 1983.

Nellie (the pony) was always inordinately patient with me and didn't mind me playing with her foal, Julie, who she *might* have been pregnant with when this photo was taken. It's a shame that her nose is cut out of the photo, but it is also a fitting tribute to the state of the times: we didn't break out the camera very often since at the time my family didn't always have lots of "spare play money" for things like purchasing and developing 35mm film. I'd also guess that Nellie's head had been in the frame, but she turned to look at something.

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I'm not just a client, I'm the president

That's right folks; I've been struck with another patented "JungleBetti Idea".

I'm still fond of yesterday's "post photos of children dressed badly by their parents" idea, and plan on posting an old picture of myself on Monday. Everyone needs a good giggle on a Monday morning. You're welcome to join in.

My *NEW* idea?
The Bad Haircut Club for Women

If you're brave enough, you find and post a photo of yourself with your *worst* haircut ever, then share the web address. Why? So I'll feel better about the bad haircut I currently have.

The stupid conflict: I'm still suspicious that the boogey-man will find me if I post a photo of myself on my blog. Childhood photos seem anonymous enough, chances are that you wouldn�t recognize me in the grocery store from seeing a 27 year old photo of me. I can�t identify specifically why I want to maintain that privacy, especially since I appreciate it when other people post photos of themselves.

Please enlighten me � how did you decide to post photos of yourself, -or- why don�t you?

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*call out for bad outfits* / Elvis Wednesday

I found this image at www.grandparentsmagazine.net.
I'm a big fan of babies - nothing teaches humility like being whizzed/pooed/barfed upon by something a fraction of your size. However, my first reaction to this pic was "good grief, that's dumb" then I remembered my particular take on dorkitude: "regardless of social standards, I think this is fantastic, therefore I shall rock out".

SO. I decided to empathize and try to figure out why someone would slap a wig and a plastic guitar on a child, then proudly post the picture on the internet. I was startled with how quickly I began to understand . . . When I have grandchildren one day (yeah, I know I don't have kids, but let's ignore that for now) I will probably dress them up like icons to entertain myself.

My FIRST purchase would be little Wednesday and Pugsley Addams outfits . . .

Okay, so maybe I'll dress my OWN kids up like little freaks to entertain myself.

WOW. NEW COOL IDEA (and I haven't had any coffee yet!)

If you'd like to share your humiliation with all 3 readers I might have, I'd love to post pictures with the theme "my parents must have dressed me this way so they'd have something to laugh at".

Go find your old photoalbum and start scanning!!

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