Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Rotten apples

My mother sent me an email this morning with this little diddy attached:

Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they sometimes take the apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy.The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right man to come along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

Jesus Horatio Christ.
Now, I know it's her way of telling me to buck up. That someday my Prince Charming will come and whisk me away to a life of love, stability and grandchildren....but I was offended nonetheless.

I am glad though that she doesn't think I'm a fat, slag apple waiting on the ground for some random guy to pass by and pick least that's something.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Non-choice Librarians

I read a post from a fellow blogger the other day alerting me to a quarrel that I apparently missed on "The View", and being a big "The View" fan I immediately turned to YouTube for an update. What transpired was basically a huge scream fest (what else is new) between Star (the ugly black alien), guest Sandra Bernhard, and Elizabeth (the blonde Survivor). I was all set for a good bitch-slappin' show down when suddenly the blonde one started getting all right-wing on Sandy's ass.
When SB was asked what she thought of Laura Bush, she responded that she thought she was heavily medicated - an appropriate answer I thought...particularly in light of what the poor woman needs to go to sleep with at night (both physically and psychologically). Ol' Lizzie however thought quite differently and the two ladies ended up pig-tying each other on the floor while debating...of all things...abortion.

Now, ladies let's take a step back here. It's 2006. Yes, it's unfortunate that the two major North American powers are currently fuckwits with plastercast wives...BUT HAVE WE REALLY RETURNED TO THIS DISCUSSION? god help us.

And this is where I start to get into some hot water (or hotter water i suppose), my librarian oath (shut up) has basically bound me to the concepts of open-source, access to information and free speech. Which really sucks when I want someone to shut the fuck up. Because I really want people like Lizbet to shut the fuck up.
But that's actually way harsh. What I really want is for all us sista's to get together and to agree that what we do with our poonanees (sp?) is our own business. In the infamous words of my girls "Salt n' Pepa" "If she wanna be a freak and sell it on the weekend, it's none of your business".
Tell it ladies.
Tell it.

Friday, July 14, 2006


Dear Yoga Instructor,
I love you. Despite the fact that you are a granola-eating, hemp-wearin', frizzy-headed, rail-thin specimen of yogi's, you are amazing. I walk into your dim den of nature sounds and am immediately relieved of all the stresses of library life. Last night you assisted me in lifting my body in a way that defied all laws of gravity and nature and didn't even wince when my rolling gunt billowed over my yoga pants. Thank you for that, may your kindness be repayed by increased flexibility.

Dear lady next to me in yoga,
Stop moaning. Stop sighing. Stop groaning. This is yoga, not soft-core pornography.

Dear ugly guy at the front of the room in yoga,
I can see you in the mirror. Even through the dim lights. Oh, were you not aware the lights were dim? Well that's because you didn't take off your aviator glasses during the entire class. For christ's sake man, it was 9pm!!! Also, the skimpiness of your shorts is beginning to cause me some concern. Partly because I sit behind you. And mostly because during certain poses I suspect your ball sack of making brief appearances. Not brief enough. Put that shit back in. And unless you're secretly hiding the fact that you're Bono behind those glasses...take them the fuck off you pretentious twat.

Dear fat lady in green,
I'm sorry for judging you when you first entered the room. Your lack of fashion sense and plethora of body fat threw me. But when I was half-stunted in a pose that required me to bend my body back like a pretzel, and then I looked over at you and saw that you could bend so far back that you were pretty much licking your own ass....I was appalled. And extremely ashamed of myself. For that I am sorry.

The girl in the back with the pretty pants, huge gunt and limbs made of stone.

Monday, July 10, 2006

Back in the pit

nothing like the first day back from vacation to make you realize how useless you are on your first day's now 12:56 and these are the things that i have accomplished so far:
9:15 late for work - it was raining, give me a break
9:20 chatted with my co-workers about how much rain sucks
9:30 opened email and began sorting through 240 unread emails
10:45 coffee break. find out coffee is $1 this week at druxy's :)
10:47 realize they are still recruiting staff from the local 'tard bank :(
11:45 187 emails deleted. 42 responses sent. 11 read and ignored.
12:00 reviewed unread blogline posts.
12:15 reviewed online job postings
12:17 mused about my dead-end future in this profession
12:25 revived myself with some chocolate from my desk - clearly hidden from my coordinator while i was on vacay
12:35 colleagues came in for a random chat

these are the things that i hope to accomplish this afternoon:
+ eat some food - perhaps greek but i may go easy today and head to the cafeteria
+ return one phone message
+ post on my professional blog (ie. not this one)
+ look up some times for yoga classes this week (i'm back on that wagon)

keeping your goals short and sweet, it's the key to successful post-vacation reintegration.