January 22, 2010
LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): Your face is a photograph of your feelings. Vulnerability is your strength.
Laura’s Log:
Cute barista’s name is Dodger. He asked my name for my latté order and I said—get ready to cringe—“I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours.” I smiled bravely through the whole exchange as the guy behind me impatiently went through an episode of odd throat clearing noises. (He should really give up smoking or knock it down to just three packs a day.) Dodger. Even the name is adorable. Adopting a cockney accent, he explained, “Me mum got a thing for Dickens.” All I know is I want me some more. Please, sir.
And that’s where the fun stopped. I was welcomed with hideous glares from Ann-Marie and her entire entourage, which seems to be everyone but Ernesto and me. I’m guessing they got together for drinks (arsenic?) after work last night and took a vote. It’s unanimous, then. Laura is sleeping with the boss. She’s going down on him. Bad choice ‘cuz he’s just going down.
“Good morning, Donna.” Grunt.
“Hello, Laverne.” Sneeze?
“How was your daughter’s birthday, Amy?” Dunno. Suddenly urgent need for Amy to turn, grab the phone and reorder toilet paper for the office. I suppose that could be a dire concern.
Poor Hester Prynne. I feel your pain.
9:35 Ernesto summoned me to his office. Closed the door. Thank god it’s a windowless cave. (Looked up to scan for tiny spy camera. Not sure what to look for.) “What’s going on out there?”
Time for me to be the dodger. “Oh, it’s just last minute preparations for the Olympics, I guess. Don’t you like the Royal Bank’s new look?”
“Not outside. In the office. I’m getting a sense something’s about to boil over.”
“Yes. I think you’re right.” I paused. Ernesto wasn’t a good boss. He was crass, lewd, insensitive. But what I couldn’t handle was he was a yeller. If something went out five minutes late or a power outage (like on Monday) meant he couldn’t proceed with online Scrabble, he’d swing into a tirade berating every worker in sight as well as the Harper government, Oprah and everything blue in “Avatar”. (I agreed with respect to “Avatar”, but there were better ways to make one’s point. No?) Katherine once asked, “What’s the matter with your boss? Always seems to be in recovery from laryngitis.” If only.
Ernesto continued to stare at me, waiting for more. Never had a poker face. Clearly, I knew more. I had no feeling of loyalty to anyone. Not to Ernesto. Even at his best, he’d basically poisoned poor Tupper. Not to the girls—gosh, why “the girls” anyway? I was the youngest at 32. When would we be the women? How could I side with them when they’d decided without a shred of evidence that I was a slut? A slut with remarkably bad taste.
And for a second time in the day I heard throat clearing. Spill it, Nebergall. “They’re working to get you fired. Sexual harassment, sir. And they think we’re sleeping together.”
It was the last statement that seemed to horrify him most.
KEN’S JOURNAL (sent via iPhone):
HALF A MILLION?! THAT’S HOW MUCH GIL WANTED ME TO INVEST IN UNTITLED FILM PROJECT THAT MIGHT HAVE MEG RYAN ON BOARD. HALF A FUCKING MILLION! OR MORE. NEARLY CHOKED ON MY STEAK. (THANKFULLY DIDN’T. DAMN THAT PIECE OF MEAT WAS TOO GOOD TO WASTE!) SURE, VANCOUVER REAL ESTATE HADN’T TAKEN THE HIT LIKE IN OTHER AREAS, BUT I DIDN’T HAVE THAT KIND OF CASH EVEN DURING THE BOOM. BALLSY OF GIL TO ASK. BALLSY AND FUCKING STUPID.
CAUGHT END OF CANUCKS GAME. WELLWOOD SCORES! DON’T KNOW WHY, BUT I LIKE YA, MAN. STILL DON’T THINK IT’S ENUF TO KEEP HIM AROUND. HOW YOU LIKE MOOSE, KYLE? AWFUL CHILLY IN MANITOBA.
CLARA’S SISTER WANTS TO COME BY TONITE TO CLEAR OUT THE REST OF CLARA’S THINGS. SEEING BESS ALMOST AS BAD AS SEEING CLARA. BESS WAS POISON TO OUR RELATIONSHIP. “YOU CAN DO BETTER, CLARA.” “WHAT DO YOU SEE IN HIM?” AND, LINE FROM JANET JACKSON, “I KNOW HE USED TO DO NICE STUFF FOR YOU, BUT WHAT HAS HE DONE FOR YOU LATELY?” YEAH, PACK IT UP, YOU VENOMOUS BITCH. AND DON’T GIVE ME NO SHIT ABOUT THE PORCELAIN DOLLS. IT’S JUST CRUEL TO DUMP A GUY AND LEAVE HIM TO STARE @ A FREAKIN DOLL COLLECTION FOR THREE MONTHS. SCALPED, YEAH. CLD’VE BEEN MUCH WORSE. BELIEVE ME.
WON’T GIVE BESS THE SATISFACTION OF SEEING ME EVEN GLARE @ HER. I’LL BE COMPLETELY STOIC. YEAH, TELL CA CLARA I’VE TURNED TO STONE.
Showing posts with label Saltlik. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Saltlik. Show all posts
Friday, January 22, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
TULIPS AND THE SEDINS MAKE IT ALL GOOD
January 21, 2010
LIBRA HOROSCOPE: Build alliances, both at work and socially. Your network can expand amazingly now.
Laura’s Log:
Tupper’s no worse for wear. Mom wasn’t happy dogsitting yesterday, but I couldn’t leave him alone. “So you’re dropping him off so he’ll barf all over my carpets? I should think it would be good for Tupper to puke repeatedly on that worn down rug in your apartment. That landlord needs to replace the carpeting anyway. There are diseases lurching in the surfaces, you know. Dr. Oz says—”
Normally it’s rude to walk out mid-sentence on someone—especially when they’re caring for your sick dog—but Mom doesn’t pause on the period. You have to create your moment. Brought her a bright batch of tulips when I picked up the dog at day’s end and all was forgiven. “Oh, they’re just lovely, dear. You really shouldn’t have. You should be saving up your money for a condo so that you can get out of that—”
Wonderful to start the day off back in the normal routine. Cute guy was not working at Starbucks again today. Did he quit? Did he get discovered and flown to Hollywood? Two-movie career starring opposite that hot new actress with all the buzz, What’s Her Name, and then back again. I’ll still be ordering my lattés, but hate having to hold off on the eye candy. It’s the simple pleasures…
Ann-Marie approached me first thing at work. “We’re building a case against Ernesto,” she solemnly declared over the whir of the photocopier. “What sexual advances has he made on you?”
“Actually, none.”
“No, seriously,” she persisted. “It’s OK. You can tell. It’s all in confidence right now. HR is creating a file and the company’s lawyers are on it. His sex-dominant reign is going to fall apart in the next week or two.”
“He’s done nothing, I swear.”
“Oh, come on. He hits on everyone.” Hmm, not on me. Should I be insulted that I’m NOT being sexually harassed? “Don’t you get dragged in on weekends?”
“Yes. Most recently, this past Sunday.”
“And you actually worked?”
“Yes. Worked. Ernesto was demanding, but not sexually.”
“You know, it’s not wise to fall for your boss.” And then she stormed off, slightly panicked, feeling as though she’d confided in the boss’ confidante.
It took the rest of the day to try to convince Ann-Marie I wasn’t sleeping with Ernesto. She still thinks I’m the office whore. Turns out everyone thinks I’m screwing the boss. I have this legendary sex life that’s complete fiction.
With Ernesto. Eww.
KEN’S JOURNAL (via Blackberry):
I’M ALIVE. CAN’T BELIEVE NO BARF BAGS ON FLOAT PLANE. STEREOTYPE SHATTERED—NOT ALL FAT PEOPLE ARE JOLLY. ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU TOSS YOUR COOKIES (BANANA MUFFIN, ACTUALLY) ON THE PRECIOUS BABY. APOLOGIZED PROFUSELY, BUT I SWEAR THEY WANTED TO EJECT ME W/O A PARACHUTE.
VICTORIA PLAYED ALOOF DURING MTG. MAYBE LINGERING VOMIT BREATH KEPT HER @ BAY. HAVE TO BE SOME PERKS RIDING IN FLOAT PLANE. AFTERNOON MTG COMPLETE WASTE OF TIME—BUT THEN MOST ARE. @ LEAST DAY ENDED W/CANUCKS WINNING. CAN’T BELIEVE THEY EVEN LET OILERS MAKE A GAME OF IT. TGFS (THANK GOD FOR SEDINS)!
LUNCH W/THE BOSS TODAY. THINKING OF ASKING FOR RAISE. HE TALKS BIG ON RECESSION BUT I STUMBLED ON THE FINANCIALS WHEN POPPED IN ON WEEKEND. (OK, HAD TO PICK THE LOCK ON HIS FILING CABINET.) MORE BOOM THAN BUST. ALWAYS TOUCHY SUBJECT. RUMOR IS THAT WHEN LYDIA ASKED FOR RAISE LAST SUMMER, HE FIRED HER BY END OF THE WEEK.
DINNER TONITE W/GIL @ SALTLIK [SIC]. HE’S PUSHING TO GET ME TO INVEST IN HIS NEXT FILM. SUPPOSEDLY MEG RYAN IS INTERESTED BUT WHEN WAS HER LAST HIT? STILL, IF I GET THE AXE, I MAY NEED ANOTHER CAREER PATH.
LIBRA HOROSCOPE: Build alliances, both at work and socially. Your network can expand amazingly now.
Laura’s Log:
Tupper’s no worse for wear. Mom wasn’t happy dogsitting yesterday, but I couldn’t leave him alone. “So you’re dropping him off so he’ll barf all over my carpets? I should think it would be good for Tupper to puke repeatedly on that worn down rug in your apartment. That landlord needs to replace the carpeting anyway. There are diseases lurching in the surfaces, you know. Dr. Oz says—”
Normally it’s rude to walk out mid-sentence on someone—especially when they’re caring for your sick dog—but Mom doesn’t pause on the period. You have to create your moment. Brought her a bright batch of tulips when I picked up the dog at day’s end and all was forgiven. “Oh, they’re just lovely, dear. You really shouldn’t have. You should be saving up your money for a condo so that you can get out of that—”
Wonderful to start the day off back in the normal routine. Cute guy was not working at Starbucks again today. Did he quit? Did he get discovered and flown to Hollywood? Two-movie career starring opposite that hot new actress with all the buzz, What’s Her Name, and then back again. I’ll still be ordering my lattés, but hate having to hold off on the eye candy. It’s the simple pleasures…
Ann-Marie approached me first thing at work. “We’re building a case against Ernesto,” she solemnly declared over the whir of the photocopier. “What sexual advances has he made on you?”
“Actually, none.”
“No, seriously,” she persisted. “It’s OK. You can tell. It’s all in confidence right now. HR is creating a file and the company’s lawyers are on it. His sex-dominant reign is going to fall apart in the next week or two.”
“He’s done nothing, I swear.”
“Oh, come on. He hits on everyone.” Hmm, not on me. Should I be insulted that I’m NOT being sexually harassed? “Don’t you get dragged in on weekends?”
“Yes. Most recently, this past Sunday.”
“And you actually worked?”
“Yes. Worked. Ernesto was demanding, but not sexually.”
“You know, it’s not wise to fall for your boss.” And then she stormed off, slightly panicked, feeling as though she’d confided in the boss’ confidante.
It took the rest of the day to try to convince Ann-Marie I wasn’t sleeping with Ernesto. She still thinks I’m the office whore. Turns out everyone thinks I’m screwing the boss. I have this legendary sex life that’s complete fiction.
With Ernesto. Eww.
KEN’S JOURNAL (via Blackberry):
I’M ALIVE. CAN’T BELIEVE NO BARF BAGS ON FLOAT PLANE. STEREOTYPE SHATTERED—NOT ALL FAT PEOPLE ARE JOLLY. ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU TOSS YOUR COOKIES (BANANA MUFFIN, ACTUALLY) ON THE PRECIOUS BABY. APOLOGIZED PROFUSELY, BUT I SWEAR THEY WANTED TO EJECT ME W/O A PARACHUTE.
VICTORIA PLAYED ALOOF DURING MTG. MAYBE LINGERING VOMIT BREATH KEPT HER @ BAY. HAVE TO BE SOME PERKS RIDING IN FLOAT PLANE. AFTERNOON MTG COMPLETE WASTE OF TIME—BUT THEN MOST ARE. @ LEAST DAY ENDED W/CANUCKS WINNING. CAN’T BELIEVE THEY EVEN LET OILERS MAKE A GAME OF IT. TGFS (THANK GOD FOR SEDINS)!
LUNCH W/THE BOSS TODAY. THINKING OF ASKING FOR RAISE. HE TALKS BIG ON RECESSION BUT I STUMBLED ON THE FINANCIALS WHEN POPPED IN ON WEEKEND. (OK, HAD TO PICK THE LOCK ON HIS FILING CABINET.) MORE BOOM THAN BUST. ALWAYS TOUCHY SUBJECT. RUMOR IS THAT WHEN LYDIA ASKED FOR RAISE LAST SUMMER, HE FIRED HER BY END OF THE WEEK.
DINNER TONITE W/GIL @ SALTLIK [SIC]. HE’S PUSHING TO GET ME TO INVEST IN HIS NEXT FILM. SUPPOSEDLY MEG RYAN IS INTERESTED BUT WHEN WAS HER LAST HIT? STILL, IF I GET THE AXE, I MAY NEED ANOTHER CAREER PATH.
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