Sam’s Ministrations on Life

So, my little update:

Friday night was the office christmas party… which I was in charge of as one of the social committee co-chairs… man how do I seem to sign myself up for this shit all the time. Anyways it was thoroughly interesting as most office events involving an all night open, top-shelf bar can be. Everyone thought I was joking when I left work early, but this girl takes a long time to go from caterpillar to beautiful butterfly. Okay, I’m exaggerating, I went home and took a disco nap… which ended up being a good thing cause I stayed out until about 5 in the am. Apparently the pep time paid of as one of my associates, who is socially awkward to the point of shall I dare say autism introduced me to his wife by saying, “Uh, this is Sam, she doesn’t usually look this good… oh wait, that didn’t come out right… what I meant to say was that she doesn’t usually dress this nice at work… oh wait, that still didn’t come out right.” Anyway, let’s just say I looked smokin hot as usual, not that that’s a surprise. Being one of the co-hosts was excellent as the staff was super attentive… this actually became a problem once I realized that they were very nicely refilling my appletini glass without my knowledge. Rather than having a potentially embarrassing moment of me lip-synching Bette Midler’s Wind Beneath My Wings I cut myself off at two drinks… I think. So of course of all the people in the world you want to be dead sober when you are drunk… yeah, it’s probably not me because I just think that shit is hysterical. I got to see one friend bite another, another unknowingly pee on a neighborhood sculpture, and a another fall dead asleep in the middle of a loud club while my friend carried on a twenty minute monologue ‘with him’. Although I must say I am rather disappointed in myself usually I am quick enough to also document these embarrassing moments in picture form. Oh well, they will just be snapshots in my mind to get me through the days in the nursing home.

On a total opposite note has anyone seen that show on TBS called My Boys. I don’t even need to write a blog anymore cause that freakin thing is my life. A chic who works in a male dominated field, with a bunch of dude friends who give her bad dating advice over poker games. At least I have girl friends… enough to even make a girl’s night. Of course it is totally cliché and all we do is put on face masks, paint our nails in skimpy lingerie and have pillow fights… gosh, that reminds me I need to pick up some more down pillows for this week.

… and by the FTP I am not referring to a site you download crap onto, but the ever elusive “Total Freakin Package.” This came up when I was discussing with my guy friends the ever misunderstood guy psyche. More importantly why I am not actively finding the right type of guy… or better why they are not finding me. Then they described the FTP… this is of course the epitome of the perfect girl… smart, pretty, funny, yadda, yadda, yadda… This got me to thinking that I would like to be the FTP, but as it doesn’t seem to be that I can achieve FTP status as a girl maybe I should think about becoming a guy, because I’m quite a catch. The following are a list of reasons why I would make the guy version of the FTP:

- I’m smart… two Ivy Leagues under my belt (for this purpose we shall consider Wellesley an Ivy League as it is close enough)
- I’m funny… hysterical in fact in a witty, sarcastic sort of way… in fact my humor stretches to the obscene/dirty occasionally which fits right in
- I have a good job… I mean it’s not rocket science, but it’s upstanding and creative
- Football is my life… I’ve read the entire “Dummies guide to Football”, I have Patriots crap all over my car, I have at least two jerseys and even more paraphernalia that I wear out to Sports Bars where I heckle fans from the other team
- I’m pretty smokin hot… well I will be after a few more weeks of working out with the guys… the washboard is almost making an appearance, any day now
- I have all my own hair… it’s not its original color, but that’s semantics
- I like manly things like movies about cars, James Bond and beer
- I’ve got my own hoopdy (that’s car for those of you that aren’t ‘down’)… sure it’s silver with a vanity plate and mardi gras beads on the inside, but I can get rid of that easy
- I dress well… although if I were a dude I probably would wear clothes that would accentuate my huge pecs and bis rather than my other “assets”
- I like animals… I have two cats, but they’re almost like two dogs
- I can handle a chainsaw, a woodchipper, and I can climb a tree with a couple carabineers and few ropes… from my days as a lumberjack or something like it
- I’m goal-oriented, motivated and don’t take crap from anyone
- I like alternative music and classic rock (when not listening to pop… but I can keep that on the DL)

So basically this makes me start to wonder why I am even bothering to be a girl when I make such a better guy… oh right, because I like guys… damn that tricky little fact.

So I’m here in Port St. Lucie, Florida again on business and after having organized my ipod I figured it was time to blog again. Funny things that have happened to me:

Unfortunately I must sadly note that one of my two frogs… a slightly misguided birthday present from Megan, Lauren and Mike nice as it was… was found missing when I returned home from Mass Morgan. This was made all the more disconcerting as they are completely aquatic frogs and must be in water at all times. So I began the search, both moving everything around the surrounding area, as well as trying to sniff out anything ‘odd’. Eventually I found the stiff molding carcass behind my stereo several feet away. Clearly the little guy had too much of this cruel world, jumped out of his tank and hurled his body into the black beyond. (Sounds sadly similar to a certain story I know about a suicidal shar-pei).

So on our flight in I thought for sure our plane was going to be struck by lighting as we traveled through giant thunderclouds and cause us to go spiraling into the Atlanta below. This was probably one of the worst flights I’ve ever been on… It was only after I got off the plane that I realized why we didn’t die…. that’s right folks, what kind of god is going to strike down a plane with a nun and three Tibetan monks aboard. We got a double religious whammy and so unless Zeus decided he was having a bad day I think we were pretty much covered. I’m checking with all local Atlanta monasteries and nunneries the next time I fly… I want to be on their plane. *A funny side note must be made that although the monks did not travel with luggage they were sporting Tevas and Reefs.*

Craziness

My week has been nuts starting actually from last Monday. I wake up early and walk out o my car to get some dunkin donuts before arriving early to work. Upon walking into the parking lot I notice something is just not right… can’t quite put my finger on it… maybe it has something to do with the full grown cedar tree that has fallen on my car. And by fallen on I mean all forty feet of conifer laying fully across, and completely covering my poor little Saturn from front to back. Most of my morning was spent filling out police reports and insurance claims and waiting for the maintenance guys to figure out how to lift the limb off my car. In the end I just had the guys pick up the branch enough for me to drive out from under. Hah, who would guess my little car would come out with only a few scratches and dents. Needless to say I was late for work.
Then it was busy, busy, busy with a competition deadline at work.
Poker night where I walked away having made back my $10 and getting another 60 cents. Keep it up and in about 5 weeks I can get a latte with my winnings.
watched my pats play… and I might add allow the falcons to walk away with the win and with their pride intact… what does preseason matter to the pats anyway.
Saturday I rode in the rain… not by choice of course, but because I’m trying not to embarrass myself in a show I’m riding in at the end of this week. Who doesn’t love smelling like a wet horse?
I also spent two very enjoyable days of reading and napping… ah.

My week culminated this evening with the perfect film… Step Up. Oh my perfect man. I’m going to go fishing in the hoods of Baltimore for the only white guy there who happens to be ripped and a great dancer. Granted he has no aspirations in life, but I never said I wanted to marry him, just bring him home and make him dance for me a bit. Yum. New almost favorite movie…. even though it was mildly bad.

So this is the first time in a while that I’ve had a chance to write another blog, let alone have a night to myself. I went from complaining about spending my evenings alone reading books for free at Borders and playing with my cats to social diva… or a reasonable facsimile. You may ask yourself: “Sam, what have you been doing with your fabulous time?” Oh, I’ll tell you.

Poker night… that’s right I’m the sole girl at Poker night, and a regular to boot. True, we’ve only played twice and one of those times I was at home for a funeral, but the other time I kicked some serious dude booty. The funniest thing is that I had to print the rules out for myself earlier that evening… and I have to sit there with a little cheat sheet the tells me what hand trumps what. The guys actually though I was bluffing a good part of the time when in reality I just had no idea that I had nothing in my hand. I’m getting a bit nervous about where I will put five big guys when it’s my turn to host. Damn if that wouldn’t just be my fantasy if they weren’t all married guys with kids. But seriously… 6 people in 650 square feet. I have the number of chairs… there just isn’t room to put them in a circle, and nothing to sit around. I just don’t think they’ll fall for the old stand-by of “we’re playing poker persian style”.

Pool Saturdays… that’s right, pretty much every Saturday I’ve been sunning myself by the pool. For all of you that know me well enough… no, it isn’t working yet, I still don’t look any more latina. I’ve come to believe that God really doesn’t even want me to tan. It will be 100 degrees without a cloud in the sky and then approximately 40 minutes after I come outside the heavens will open up and apocalyptic rain will flow from the sky, forcing me to gather up all the shit that I didn’t really need to bring down to the pool in the first place… since I’m not reading the book about the fall of the Myan civilization but sleeping instead… and scatter frantically into the gazebo where I plan to wait out the rain witch I’m sure will pass in just ten minutes and two hours later I’m still in the gazebo.

Mexican food… that’s right, counting up there with the recent increase in beer consumption has been a noted increase in Mexican food. I mean I like Mexican food… who doesn’t like beans, cheese and a good tortilla, but seriously soon the INS will get my credit card receipts and try to deport me… that is until they come pick me up and get one look at me, realize I’m too pale and let me be. I’m always slightly surprised at the large number of Mexican joints around here considering we are 5 hours inland, and nowhere near Mexico… oh well I’m not going to complain when I get a green chili pepper filled with cheese.

So what am I doing with my night alone? Hah, if you watch Sex and the City you’ll know what I mean when I say I have “Single Behavior”. This includes putting on my pjs immediately upon entrance into my apartment. I then make myself something only I would really want to eat… like Cheddywurst (that’s right folks Cheddar injected sausage, it doesn’t get any better), or fried salami, triscuits or dry cereal. Then I’ll make the tough decision between that same hard-hitting book about the fall of Mayan civilization or a tawdry romance novel. I’ll probably round out the evening by plucking my eyebrows or straightening my hair while watching Falcon Beach or the Hills.

That’s what I am… the Fuck Yeah Girl. I’m not exactly sure who came up with the phrase, someone at work I think. Everyone has at least one of these friends that you can rely on to be up for whatever. So, it’s things like…
“Heh, anyone up for grabbing dinner?”
“Fuck yeah”

“Anyone want to head to Vegas for the weekend?”
“Fuck yeah”

“Strip club anybody?”
“Fuck yeah”
I wasn’t always that girl. I’ve usually had a friend that was this person and I would drag them to whatever obnoxious event I really wanted to go to… for me that usually means dancing. Now that I’m finally single again, and in a new place I’m pretty much up for anything. My theory is that I should live life to the fullest and in the moment. People are often asking me, don’t I need to sleep more (and maybe save a little more money). I figure as long as the bills get paid and I put a bit away I can sleep and get serious about saving later. It’s time for me to have fun.

So what has this meant for me so far? Well, I’ve gone to a ton of bars and pubs in the area… which also means I’m becoming a bit of a beer connoisseur. I’ve been to two strip clubs in the ATL… the Cheetah and the Cleremont Lounge (where strippers go to die)… this of course was not my choice but what the guys at the office were up for. There’s been bowling, darts and pool… and hopefully soon a bit of camping, tubing and mudbogging. I’ve eaten at an inordinate number of restaurants in the area. I’ve been to a bunch of parties… mostly being held by or for people I don’t even know… that also makes me the Who the Fuck Is That Girl. Actually, now that I write this maybe I’m turning into more of the Fuck Yeah Guy!

the latest phenomena in the workplace is that of the office spouse… it is so big in fact that their have been stories about it in major newspapers and an appearance on the Today show. for those of you that don’t know what an office spouse is it is a person of the opposite sex in the office that you are most closely connected to. this relationship is strictly platonic but involves confiding in one another on a certain emotional level. they are a healthy part of your worklife in that you can get the opposite viewpoint on matters of importance in areas that they would understand better than anyone outside the firm… men bringing the more direct, confrontational side of things, and women bringing the more sensitive, feeling side. the Today show was stressing the importance of being very open in your office marriage so that your real spouse does not feel threatened. they also advised that just like in a real marriage you need to work to keep this new relationship functioning, perhaps by having lunch together and discussing what each of you hope to get out of the relationship.

I find this all very amusing, and so very true of my office. if I go down the list of people I work with almost everyone has an office husband/wife. I think that the news is failing to mention other very vital roles played in office relationships, which may include any or all of the following:
- office spouse
- office boyfriend
- office girlfriend
- office affair (this only applies if for a short time you befriend someone while still with your office spouse)
- office gay/lesbian lover (someone of the same sex that you spend an unnatural amount of time with)

This also fails to take into account any sort of power relationships, such as:
- the Mrs. Robinson factor (when someone much older/more experienced in the company takes a newbie under their wing, a slight bit of idol worship goes into this one. This may or may not include doing some or all of the following things for this older person, like picking up their dry-cleaning, babysitting, or picking all of the dark Melba toast pieces out of the Chex mix because that’s their favorite)
- the “Bitch” factor (very similar to the Mrs. Robinson, but with less nurturing affection on the part of the elder, and more of a servant/slave role on the younger’s part)

Now you may all be wondering at this point what category you fall under and how your relationships are working out at your particular office. Well, I can’t help you out with that one, I can only tell you about myself:
Office Spouse- unfortunately my work life mirrors my personal life and I have no office husband… I’m in the market though, so if you know of anyone…
Office Boyfriend- too many to count, I’m pretty much seeing all of them, but none exclusively… oh god, does that make me the Office Whore?
Office Affair- this would imply there was an office husband
Office lesbian lover- there are a lot of women I turn to for support in the office… holy crap, that makes me the Office Bi-Whore… who knew I was so skanky at work
The Mrs. Robinson- well, there are two of those for me, my boss, and my boss’s boss, both women though, I haven’t picked up dry-cleaning yet, or been asked to baby-sit (neither has children, just pets that are like children), but a request has been made for the Melba toast… maybe if she’s lucky
The “Bitch”- my boss’s boss’s boss, another woman, that I would probably go out and murder puppies for if I thought it would get her to notice me better

Looking back on the list I begin to wonder and to question things about my own office sexuality… am I the Office Bisexual? Is it similar to having n office spouse, you can be straight in real life, but in the office your sexuality becomes something else? I’m actually okay with this outcome… Wellesley has prepared me to accept all sexualities… I’m not sure however that John will be happy to discover he is actually an Office Homosexual… I’d better go tell him right now.

holy crap the breakfast club is on. is this not one of the greatest movies of all times? I think everyone at some point in their life has wanted to be stuck in detention like that. I know, I know, you’re saying that I probably know nothing about detetnion… and that would be true (unless of course you count the one detention I got for talking too much in class, that one does seem pretty believable). if you had been stuck in detention who would you have wanted to be there with… or rather who would you have been? I think I’d be a cross between the nerdy blonde kid or Molly Ringwolds character. I was never either that big a nerd or that popular either, I was an in-betweener I guess. what was it about Molly, was she ever even that cute? maybe you have to like redheads. even if she wasn’t cute though I still wanted to be her, and the fact that she is able to apply lipstick from her cleavage is incredibly impressive. maybe I could actually land myself a hottie with some impressive talent like that. emilio estevez is pretty hot in this thing too. damned if I’m not sitting here at 25 wishing I could be 17 and in detetntion… in the 80s. ugh.

now the more important question is would I have fallen for the bad boy or the jock. sadly enough I would probably say the jock… I’ve always had a thing for guys that are active… I guess I like the constant reminder that I am not at all active. no, seriously though I’m trying… I keep trying to convince my guy friends to teach me how to be a more outdoorsy girl… ya know, white water rafting, tubing, fly-fishing, mudbogging, camping…. oh, and there was something called froggigging that they wanted me to do but I had to pass. it’s a straight up southern thing where you go out in the middle of the night with flashlights, head down to the creek, and then stab frogs with sticks, take them home and eat them. maybe that’s a little too extreme for me. I’m worried that I would come home that night, and my creepy-ass frogs (misguided birthday present two years ago) would know what I’d done. they’d climb out of their aquarium, padding across the rug on their webbed feet. just as the smell of swamp would reach my nose my eyes would open and the last thing I would see would be beady black eyes, and feet with mini-claws.

I love working with all these southern, honkey, rednecks at the office. you never know what will come out of their mouths. I would also have to say that I didn’t realize there are so many different southern dialects either. I would say the strongest is a tie between southern Georgia (like in the swamps) and Mississippi. Here is one of my favorite swamp logic thoughts on life:
“Man, that’s more difficult than sqeezin a beebee in a duck’s butt.”
These guys take two things more seriously than life:
- college football (bulldogs, tigers, gators, wildcats…), &
- pork… as in BBQ, roast, ribs, sandwiched…. and on and on goes the list
(their ability to win a war against the north is a short runner up)

Travelling

So, I’ve been travelling a lot lately… I am of two minds about this whole travelling business. On one hand I tend to have to work fewer hours than if I was actually at work… so that’s about 2 hours then. It breaks up the otherwise monotonous day in day out of work… actually I’m kidding on that point I get to do some pretty cool stuff usually. You get to eat on the companies dime… “steak?, yes please, and do you have any lobster?”

On the other hand I shall now list for you the sad things I have to do to occupy my time in such exotic locations as Port St. Lucie, FL, and Fayetteville, NC. A small sampling of the cool that makes up my life:
- watching crappy teen programs like Falcon Beach on ABC Family (I know can you freakin believe it, they deal with such deep topics as wakeboarding and cappucino machines) or dating shows like Next or Elimidate (it’s a guarnteed fact that the girl that shows the most skin and is willing to jump down the guys throat is going to be the one chosen… an extra bonus if she makes out with one of the other contestants)
- organizing my ipod playlists… you never know when you will want to listen to such playlists as “Guys suck… music of female empowerment”, “Booty-shakin music”, “Power ballads to sing badly to in the car”, then I’ll through on the ipod set it to shuffle and dance around the room in my underwear (blinds closed first of course)
- peeling of all my nailpolish (cause it would be too smart to actually bring remover) and then painting them back the same color they were before
- hemming any and all things that need it… this may be letting the secret out of the bag, but I’m short, so no pants actually fit me in length… don’t tell anyone, this is just between you and me
- ironing… I know it doesn’t really make sense to iron stuff and then fold it up and shove it back in a suitcase, but seriously if I don’t do it now it will never get done
- doing crossword puzzles and logic problems… I get the big magazine full of them at the airport and then go through it… sometimes I cheat, how sad is that, cheating on yourself
- I’ll play extensive games of minesweeper and solitaire, attempting to beat my own score
- calling everyone in my phone
- reading my horoscope, reading the horoscope of people I have a crush on, reading the compatability rating of mine and my crushes horoscopes… apparently I am a difficult person to get along with and I often speak before I’ve thought through things… no shit, open mouth, insert foot
- updating my myspace and then stalking other people on the internet… I’ve actually found that when you go looking for stuff on the internet you might find out things you really didn’t want to know, but that doesn’t really stop my masochistic tendancies
- working out… oh wait, that one’s a lie
- reading everything from a book to seeing what the sex advice is in Cosmo (ya know they’ve been saying the same damn things in that magazine since I was 17, but I still keeping buying it hoping that some big secret will finally be revealed and I will be able to “blow his mind” or “be the woman he’ll never forget”… of course this all hinges on the fact that I still need to find someone to participate in this with me)… I’ve thought about opening the Gideon bible and finding salvation, but I just go back to picking at my nail polish
- trying out new beauty techniques and investigating every pore on my face… this one only happens when all the other options have been run through

So now that I have wowed you all with the large number of things you can do in a hotel room while travelling on business (the things I’ll write about anyway) I hope you all feel inspired to come up with your own weird things to do. I actually hope this is making you brainstorm about your own life rather than sit there feeling a wave of pity for the sadness that has become my day to day routine.

Personal Appearance

you have gold jewelry of any kind really

you wear Drakar Noir

you have owned anything acid washed after the 80s

you own tapered leg jeans

you wear cut-off jean shorts

you wear shorts or pants in any shade of pastel possibly with little martinis, alligators, golf balls, etc. on them

you wear sunglasses inside or at night

you wear a vest, sweater or otherwise for anything other than tux appropriate events

you have a mullet or rattail

you wear a baseball hat that doesnt sit fully on your head

you walk around with your arms away from your side because your muscles are too big to be able to put them down any further

you still take out the letter jacket and wear it around sometimes

you have a tongue ring

you have had/given a visible hickey after the age of 17

Vehicle Specific

your base arrives before you do

your high school graduation tassel is still hanging from your rear-view mirror

you have a vanity plate

you have more than one sticker from your undergrad on your car aka your car is referred to as the Dawg Pound by your friends

Personality

you have given yourself a nickname only friends are allowed to assign you a nickname, and more than just you and that person have to frequently call you that aka the Asian Sensation

you have nicknamed your group of friends ie. The Pimpmaster Seven

you brag every Monday about how wasted you got the weekend before

you have ever complained when a girl makes you a meal because it is interfereing in your lifting diet

you are taking steroids and are not a major athlete wait does that mean its okay if you are a major athlete?

you still relive your high school/college sports career

you have never left your hometown for more than the four-eight years you were in college and the hardest deicision you have to make during the week is which towny bar to go to

Female Dbaggery otherwise known as Douchebaggettery

Personal Appearance

you make a point of not wearing a bra this is only okay if you are a feminist and are deeply opposed to the male imposition upon your body (these women are in their own category of strange)

you have owned anything taperd or acid-washed after 1989

you are still rocking the claw, aka the overly large bangs we all had in high school

you have ever been accused of having cameltoe

you have a lower back tattoo that runs symmetrically from the middle of your spine to the side of your hips in a non-distinct swirly pattern

you own anything with clear heels

your thong is visible to the general population

you have worn granny panties AND other people have noticed

you have ever left your house knowing full well that you are wearing colored underwear underneath something white

you own or have ever worn thonged bathing attire

you have fake-tanned, or sat in a tanning bed so long that you are now a shade of tangelo

you own/wear a perfume by any pop star aka Jlo, Britney, Beyonce, etc

you have a tongue ring

you have had/given a visible hickey after the age of 17

Vehicle

you have stupid shit hanging from your rearview mirror or your gear shift, this may include dolphins, heart-shaped anything, fuzzy dice, graduation tassels, and mardi gras beads (oh crap that just put me on the list)

you have animal print seat or steering wheel covers

you have any kind of sticker in your rear windshield with flowers, or a mention of how hot you are, or that you are a princess, etc

you have a vanity plate

you have an air freshener that knocks people off their ass when they open the car door with the scent of strawberries, tropical islands, coconut, whatever

you smoke especially those fancy ass colored cigarettes, or flavored crap

Please respond to this with any additional examples you can think of… apparently this is critical information as I am supposed to review these rules before each new date so I can be sure I am not dating another douchebag.