Shame, shame, know your name!

A. is slightly disappointed at the lack of activity on this here blog. Though Me! doesn't technically work with A., she still has worked with A. in the past, and is continually blessed with A.'s existence. Ipso facto, the lack of activity is unwarranted.

Now, A. understands that Me! recently spawned a child and for that, A. will show Me! some leniency and understanding. But, let there be no mistake, A.'s back in full force! Care to join me, Me!?

P.s. A.'s sorry about her recent poor choice of words in the presence of said spawned little person.

Discovering Ardi : Discovery Channel

A. gets her own TV show!

Discovering Ardi : Discovery Channel

EvolutionA.ry

A. believes in Fish People. That is a fact. To bolster her argument, she used some CNN researchy-baloney article full of big words and commas but, ultimately, I believe she failed to show any connection between fish and people.

But I’ve had an epiphany, thanks to another article from CNN. Researchers found a 4.4 million-year-old skeleton of a hominid female, nicknamed Ardi. She is perhaps the oldest fossil ever found.

I withdraw my argument that A. is actually a Fish Person. Instead, I submit that A. is actually a descendent of Ardi and her ilk.

I have solid proof to support my theory, to wit:

• Ardi is 4-feet-tall. So is A.
  
• Ardi weighs 110 pounds. A. claims to weigh 110 pounds.
• Ardi has very long arms and fingers. A. has arms and fingers (I know she has fingers because I’ve actually seen them -- up close -- as she pokes me in the eye).
• Ardi has an opposable big toe. A. often complains her big toe is opposed to most of her ideas.
  

According to the article, “Ardi's brain was believed to be the size of a chimp's, but she also had many human-like features, such as the ability to walk upright on two legs.” Likewise, A.’s brain is that of a chimps’. However, I have found A. to be devoid of any human-like features, such as the ability to empathize, fight fair, or stop singing “It’s a Small World.”

In addition, the article states Ardi owned “all-purpose teeth” that likely feasted on a diet of plants, fruits and small mammals. I once caught A. biting a neighbor’s cat. She said it was delicious.

Perhaps the most shocking fact found in all my research (or maybe I'm just imagining it): The artist rendering of Ardi (top) is strikingly similar to our artist’s rendering of A. (bottom).

“Researchers are still trying to pinpoint when the two lineages -- chimps and humans -- split from their common ancestor.” I submit A.’s ancestors may have travelled the former road.

Finally Ardi and A. both begin with A. Coincidence? I think not! For that reason alone, I rest my case.

Fish People: Coming soon to an underwater cave near you!

http://www.cnn.com/2009/TECH/science/09/26/mekong.species/index.html

According to the article above, over 160 new species have been found in Southeast Asia.  Among these new friends are 20+ new types of fish, yes, fish, and a bird-eating frog.  Let this article be a testament to just how closed-minded Me! has been about the evolutionary possibility of Fish People.

Take that, Me!. Take that.

Can't help those who won't help themselves

Me! was sick yesterday.

I suggested euthanasia.

Me! declined.

Me!'s loss. 

Disconnected

A.: The fax machine hates me.
Me!: I know. We had a nice, long chat about it.
A.: Stop it! Can you help me fix it?
Me!: What's the problem?
A.: Do I have to plug it into a phone line?

Toilet humor

Setting: Me!, on the toilet in the stall. A., not in the stall but in the bathroom. 

A. (turning off the light): "Just trying to help you out."


Me!: "I am 43 years old. Whatever I need to find, trust me, at this point I can find it in the dark."

Fish tales

I wasn't going to blog about this because it disturbed me so much. So I am only going to say this once, because I can only bring myself to say it once: A. believes in fish people. I'm not talking about the Bará, or Fish People, of the Northwest Amazon. No. I'm talking about fish, people.

A. was watching a documentary with her "boyfriend" (whom I will call "A.'s B." to protect what little innocence he may have left) and he convinced her that the show was about this little-known tribe of "fish people." They were newly-discovered by scientists, so he claimed, and were very shy, so few land people have seen them. She believed him, and told me, and I told her, "Boy, he really brings out the dope in you." A. laughed, and then pouted when A.'s B. laughed, too. A. actually believed the practical joke -- if for only a minute. Now, our reward is getting to tease her mercilessly.

But despite the taunting, A. has since spent her days carefully considering the fish people. Her "vision" of the fish people sparks concern. They live under the sea, with big suckers on their heads and a big, empty, black hole where their face should be. Their fingers are webbed and look like catcher's mitts with talons on the end. I have a suspicion she would offer the same description of a Republican, if asked.

I will not dwell on this subject any further, for I cannot. It saddens and silences me. Oh, it's fodder for a lot of teasing, but now I am convinced (more than I was before) that A. has been abducted at some point in her life. Surely she's back here now because whatever abducted her dumped her home with galactic speed after she regaled them with a few choruses of "You are not aloooone! I am here with yooooou!"

All in all, I now believe A. is a fish person. After all, she DID take the bait.

Opposites attack

A. (pouting): You don't love me anymore!

Me!: I love you as much as I can, given the circumstances.

Work weak

Seriously, I have 15 posts. A. has 3. Three! And I'm slacking off? Pu-leeze.

Quick roundup of the past week or so:

1. Today (Monday) - A. kicked me. Twice. She teased my hair until it stood on end. Then asked me if I was going to cry when I complained. Realized there really is no way to stop A. Cried a little inside.
2. Yesterday (Sunday) - Day of rest, thank God! Used a lot of liniment in preparation for the upcoming work week.
3. Saturday - A. at wedding. I heard a rumor she did the "Beat It" dance at the reception.
4. Friday - Poked me. Pinched me. Told me she loved me.
5. Thursday - Scared the shit out of me.
6. Wednesday - Sat on my lap. My knee hasn't been the same since.
7. Tuesday - Sang "It's a Small World." Loudly. For an hour. And a half.

Not sure why I need to post daily when a weekly round-up could do the trick. Besides, nothing A. has done recently has especially stood out.

And, as A. has pointed out to me on numerous occasions, the elderly bruise easily. So it really is amazing I can garner the strength to post at all. What's your excuse, A.?

Now's the time!

Me! has been slacking.  There hasn't been a new post in approximately (or exactly) one week - tsk tsk, Me!, tsk tsk.  On that note, I'll step up and make a post. 

Me! is dragging ass today. She had a gig last night and didn't go to bed till 4am. A nice person would give her the day off of torment.  However, I never said I was nice. In fact, I don't think it was ever even inferred. In A!-land, today is the perfect day to attack. 

 

Army of one

I may or may not have pissed A. off today. I couldn't help it. I was having a bad day and thought of something really funny that featured her as the star, but I won't share what here. She said she hated me a little bit and pouted for a while. Then she punched me and skipped away. I guess we're good now.

This just in...

As Me! suspected, it wasn't too long before I was gone-zo as well.  I wonder if Me! ever truly thought she could get rid of me so easily - if she's going, she's taking me with her! 

Just to clear the air on some vital points: Me! is not the victim she has painted herself to be.  In fact, in many ways, I'd say that I am the victim. Yes, you read that correctly.  I've sat idly by, reading all the fabrications she's posted in the past, and frankly, I've had enough.  

Ok, perhaps I'm exaggerating, and perhaps I'm not really a victim at all, and perhaps I torment Me! just a bit. But, I will say this, Me! brings a lot upon herself.  Furthermore, I will not be such a dormant member/contributor to this blog in the future; Me! won't be able to cast out her accusations unopposed any longer. Are you reading, Me!? Bring the ruckus.

Peace out!

A. and I are on the move. We've decided our new jobs, in a word, suckass. Since we came together, we're leaving together. Actually, I've already put in my notice, but A. suspects she'll be gonzo upon the morn.

I was worried about leaving A. If for nothing else, what would become of this blog? I just paid $8 for the URL. I need to recoup my investment, and given the Internet's prowess for ROI, that could take years. Plus, who else is going to kick me in Kohl's? (I said, "Oh, my God! You just kicked me." A. said, "You're damn right I did.")

So, this blog will now chronicle our transition from big shots back to little shots. I'm so good with the change, it makes me pee a little. And knowing A. is coming with me, well, makes me a pee a lot.

Simple math

A. knows a secret + she's not telling me = not friends

Dripping sarcasm

A. was sick last week. She didn't care. She still came in to work, all loogified and dripping from her various head holes. She had absolutely no concern for how her terrible malady might affect anyone else, meaning me. She hawked and breathed on me, as if to say, "If I'm going down, you're going with me." No, she didn't say it -- but I know she was thinking it.

For three days, she couldn't speak. It was beautiful. Touching, really. Around Wednesday, I started making plans for her demise. It was inevitable, as far as I was concerned. A small send off at Chuckie Cheese, followed by bowling and scattering her ashes on Dane Cook. But by the afternoon, she was actually feeling better - she even called me after work to announce she regained her voice. Again, just flinging my plans all over the place without even considering what was on my agenda.

Now, this week, she's back to the healthy, bouncy, insanity-laced scheme of things. Thanks a lot, A. Now what do I do with all of these kazoos?

It is what it is - A. poem

the darkness knows no bounds

i am...
alone, without torment

my shot-gunned stapler mocks me,

"i am...

still here, why is that?"

i am...

working

the silence is maddening

i may not survive

no poking, no punching, no flicking

no sideswiped descent into drywall

no bruising of the old

how will i pee without counsel?

... or critique?

the ants are marching and so is A.

"flip-flop, flip-flop," her ginormous flippers cry

while chocolate waits, forewarned of the pending onslaught

delicious... 

yet targeted

plentiful? 

false!

the world holds its breath, markets quake

an industry's demise? an end of an era?

refresh your feed!

A. in PA

i am...

working

The small print: A. left work early on Friday to go to a Dave Matthew's concert in Pennsylvania and then spend the weekend. On Saturday, she was going to the Hershey factory. A. loves chocolate -- there may not be any left by the time she leaves. I, however, stayed behind and worked. I actually (kinda) missed her.

A. clue! Yes, for you!

For a moment today, A. was discomboobled. It was sweet to watch. A. was a certified, benefit-eligible Clue Impaired individual -- in front of her boss. And once A. "got" whatever it was we were all talking about, her boss accurately pointed out that rather than a light bulb going off over A.'s head, it was more like a bug zapper. Awesome! Maybe everyone at work is finally "getting it."

Let's just clear the air, shall we?

Me! has graciously issued a number of posts and I only have but one so far. Granted, my post was extremely pertinent to the topic(s) at hand, and it served as a great cursory introduction to my overall stance on things, but I find it insufficient concerning the blog in its entirety. And, please do forgive me for my infrequent posts up until now. Many of my actions require a certain element of surprise and suspence; so, you see, I can't very well post what I'm about to do and risk the likely event that Me! will see beforehand and have time to either thwart my efforts, plan a counter-strike, or both.

I echo Me!'s sentiments. She is one of my most favorite people in the whole entire world, too, which is probably why I focus such a large percentage of my efforts on tormenting her. But, in all seriousness and sincerity, I admire Me! very much and consider her to be a great friend. That being said, it's only right that I harass her as much as I do, right??? Sure, she's nearly 20 years my senior, but age truly does know no boundaries. Even though she roamed the Earth right around the time the dinosaurs did, I love her just the same as I would someone of my own time.

I'd go into greater detail defending my alleged actions displayed on previous posts, but I prefer to remain on the offense. However, I will say this: though Me! plays the victim quite well, she brings much of my antics upon herself. And, consider yourself forewarned, Me!: poking fun and criticizing my recent bout with your stapler? Not a wise choice, my friend, not wise, indeed!

Stapler remover

A. kidnapped my stapler and held it for ransom. The payoff seemed pretty reasonable -- "you must buy me 7 ice cream cones" -- but it was the principle of the thing. I don't negotiate with terrorists.

At first blush, ingenious. At second blush, I'm disappointed. This sad, transparent attempt for attention falls far short of the expected. First of all, the sadistic kidnapping of a stapler is in no way "new" (see also, "Excuse me, I think you have my stapler," "Help, my stapler has been kidnapped," and "Buy me lunch or the stapler gets it.")

Second of all, who the hell signs a ransom note with their actual name? That just puts CSI workers out of business. Maybe A. should have just waited there with my stapler in her hands so there could be no doubt at who's feet to lay blame. Oh, wait, that's right -- A. signed the note. Ok, one point for solid time management.

Finally, A. never actually removed the stapler from my office; just put it in a bottom drawer of my desk. That's not forward thinking by anyone's standard. Where were the pictures of the stapler tied up or, worst yet, being surrounded and taunted by a team of Crazy Glue, Binder Clip and Post-It Note thugs? Where were the follow-up phone calls demanding the requested booty? I never once had to look into how to tap my phone. And why didn't A. send me individual staples, one at a time, over the course of a week, as if to say, here's an ear, here's a finger, here's an eye... WHERE ARE MY GODDAMN 7 ICE CREAM CONES?

No, no A. Is it possible you're slipping? Perhaps I overestimated you. Is that really all you got?

Lunch with A. and A.'s mom

ME! (to A.'s mom): So, tell me. What was A. like as a child?

A.: Oh, so this is how it's going to go.

Tabled manners

Today A. forked, spooned and Splenda'd me... it's not as erotic as it might sound. The fact is, she threw a fork, then a spoon and then some Splenda packets at me during lunch. No, no, no -- there didn't need to be a reason. Lunch was over and it was just A.'s way of driving the point home. To that end, it's a good thing she didn't have a knife. In the free-form jazz assault genre, A. is freaking John Coltrane and she was merely vamping in the zone.

A. is in the building

Fact: A. does indeed know of the blog.

Fact: A. is awesome.

Myth: A. kicked Me!'s purse.

Myth: A. is evil towards Me!.

......and finally......

Fact: Me! is a baby.

A. knows about this blog

[whispering] A. knows about my blog. It's eerily quiet. She has not said -- or done -- anything. My husband is afraid for me. He says there will be retaliation of the most serious kind. I'm concerned this may be life-changing: No, not one where there is an epiphany involved. More like that a terrible-skiing-accident kinda life changing.

Counter threat

A. flicked me in the back. It stung a little. While being forced to lean on the cubicle counter due the weight of unfathomable despair, I asked my assistant (in front of A.) if she were good with a shovel provided the dirt were soft. Assistant informed me she was there to do whatever I asked, which gave me hope. A. advised me I should start sleeping with one eye open. Immediately lost hope, contemplated actual ability to sleep with eye open, and determined I may need a home security system. 

A. kicked me

A. kicked me. Really, she kicked my purse - while I was carrying it. I don't remember what we were talking about, but I'm sure it was just to emphasize a point.

Breaking news

Set up iphone to post directly to blog for breaking news. Anticipating it will be worth it when A.'s pounding on my bathroom stall door.

This is A.

This is A. She is funny, beautiful and highly intelligent. She also is 18 years younger than me -- a fact she reminds me of in some form or another at least once every other day ("Let me get the door, what with your bones being brittle and all"). I'm okay with that reminder - the theory being that my vast experience honed over the years places me in a superior position. Yes, that would be the theory.

A. is one of my most favorite people in the world. I know she loves me, too. Sometimes, the way she shows love is akin to the way my brothers used to show they loved me by hanging me upside down by my feet, poking me in the ribs, and tickling me until I hurled. It's that same sweet, sweet family love that has forced many a good person to spend thousands of dollars for therapy and screwed up their sense of self worth for the rest of their lives. That's what A. and I share, along with a love of animals, a good intellectual fight, and gallons and gallons of coffee. It truly is awesome!

New beginning

A. and I started a new job today at the same company. Before this job transition, A. was employed by me in my small business and, before that, interned for me. A. and I have known each other for years and our torturer/torturee relationship hasn't changed much. Despite this fact, when I was offered this new position, I demanded (respectfully requested) they find a job for A., too. Now we work as colleagues. Nothing really has changed - we still have the same relationship we had when I was A.'s boss. In honor of our new beginning, I started this blog to chronicle our times together. I hope these postings will offer insight into the stark reality of my working with A.