These student seats are just terrible. I had no idea the front row of orchestra seating meant I would be sitting under the stage.
I am the oldest person in this row.
I am no longer the oldest person in this row. Grandma Moses and I make up the entire adult ed population.
The two kids sitting to my left keep looking for Paul. Paul's dad has an apartment in the city that he only uses when he has to work in the city that would be perfect for a party. Paul is supposed to be bringing his girlfriend. Paul is finally spotted, in a balcony seat. I would really like to meet Paul.
The girls sitting to my right skipped dinner. They are eating a little bag of Cheez-Its like fugitives so they don't get caught eating in the theater.
The play begins....It is magnificent.
Intermission.
The kids to my left have decided not to stay. They are only here for extra credit after all, and they have already seen the required six characters.
The starving girls to my right have abandoned the Cheez-Its bag on the floor. I wonder if I should say something.
The Cheez-It girl just took out her birth control pills and took one. What a strange time to be thinking about birth control pills. Then again, the lead actor is gorgeous.
The play continues...Act two is even more magnificent than act one.
The evening ends with Q&A with the actors. The lead actor is not as hot without his Victorian ponytail. Disappointing.
On the ride home, I reflect on a few things. I love this theater company. I should never try to do this on a work night again. I will pay the extra money to stay out of the student seating.
19 February 2010
11 February 2010
08 February 2010
She’s got legs; she knows how to use them.
Dear Fellow Office Employees,
What is up with the leggings trend? It has to stop. Well, it has to stop in the office environment where no one wants to see exactly how many squats you do in your spare time. Furthermore, we really don’t want to see how few squats you are doing in your spare time.
I knew when our dress code was altered to include jeans and sandals that we may have a problem. The very next day, someone showed up with skintight jeans and Pam Anderson boots. While I am all for self-expression and I love freedom of speech, this does not belong in a corporate office. If you feel the requirement to wear clothes that fit is restricting who you are inside, then you need to consider a different career. Let’s not even discuss what careers encourage your current fashion statement.
Heart cutouts that run down the sides of your jeans are no longer in style (if they ever really were), and the stiletto booties you are wearing with them make you look cheap. I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you, but it looks like no one else has the cajones to tell you that you look like a walking felony.
And I don’t want to see your boobies. I’m just saying.
A side note to the fellows: Gentlemen, a polo shirt under your sports team sweatshirt does not make said sweatshirt acceptable office attire. I know the dress code indicates that you must have a collared shirt under your sweater, but we have to draw the line somewhere. And stop tight-rolling your jeans cuffs so you can show off your awesome hiking boots that are in no way the sneakers that you’re not allowed to wear (wink, wink). In fact, while we’re talking about shoes, stop wearing ankle high white sweat socks with your dress shoes. Ankle high black sweat socks are also not okay. While we’re on the subject, is it really that hard to put on an undershirt? I don’t want to see your chest hair peeking through your white dress shirt. YOUR TIE IS NOT HIDING ANYTHING.
In conclusion, let me say this; I know how hard it is to get up in the morning and face the world without something in your life to make you smile. I realize that, as corporate office employees, sometimes we rely on that new pair of shoes or the occasional mall binge to bring a little sunshine into a dreary, vitamin D deficient existence, but please, please consider what you are showing the world. Make sure the pants fit in the butt, make sure the shirt buttons flat over the chest (or belly, I mean really, EWW), make sure the socks match the shoes, and make sure the shoes match your ambitions in life. If you have to get creative why not give exciting panties a try, and no one else has to suffer.
With Love,
KJ
What is up with the leggings trend? It has to stop. Well, it has to stop in the office environment where no one wants to see exactly how many squats you do in your spare time. Furthermore, we really don’t want to see how few squats you are doing in your spare time.
I knew when our dress code was altered to include jeans and sandals that we may have a problem. The very next day, someone showed up with skintight jeans and Pam Anderson boots. While I am all for self-expression and I love freedom of speech, this does not belong in a corporate office. If you feel the requirement to wear clothes that fit is restricting who you are inside, then you need to consider a different career. Let’s not even discuss what careers encourage your current fashion statement.
Heart cutouts that run down the sides of your jeans are no longer in style (if they ever really were), and the stiletto booties you are wearing with them make you look cheap. I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you, but it looks like no one else has the cajones to tell you that you look like a walking felony.
And I don’t want to see your boobies. I’m just saying.
A side note to the fellows: Gentlemen, a polo shirt under your sports team sweatshirt does not make said sweatshirt acceptable office attire. I know the dress code indicates that you must have a collared shirt under your sweater, but we have to draw the line somewhere. And stop tight-rolling your jeans cuffs so you can show off your awesome hiking boots that are in no way the sneakers that you’re not allowed to wear (wink, wink). In fact, while we’re talking about shoes, stop wearing ankle high white sweat socks with your dress shoes. Ankle high black sweat socks are also not okay. While we’re on the subject, is it really that hard to put on an undershirt? I don’t want to see your chest hair peeking through your white dress shirt. YOUR TIE IS NOT HIDING ANYTHING.
In conclusion, let me say this; I know how hard it is to get up in the morning and face the world without something in your life to make you smile. I realize that, as corporate office employees, sometimes we rely on that new pair of shoes or the occasional mall binge to bring a little sunshine into a dreary, vitamin D deficient existence, but please, please consider what you are showing the world. Make sure the pants fit in the butt, make sure the shirt buttons flat over the chest (or belly, I mean really, EWW), make sure the socks match the shoes, and make sure the shoes match your ambitions in life. If you have to get creative why not give exciting panties a try, and no one else has to suffer.
With Love,
KJ
04 February 2010
I'll show you mine...
I had a really interesting conversation with a coworker yesterday. She was divorced last year and is really struggling making ends meet. Now, granted, she has a seriously bigger fish to fry than I do, what with having to raise three kids and make a mortgage payment on her part-time salary. These were bills that were paid with her husband’s two jobs and her salary before, and now she’s making it on her own. He pays child support, exactly to the penny of the court order and nothing more. It doesn’t seem to matter to him that she is paying for cheerleading classes, gymnastics, daycare, orthodontics, and medical benefits. What a prince.
Anyway, it occurred to me that we really aren’t open to each other as women in this society. I mean, this has been going on with her for at least a year now, and I have had my troubles for a few months, we have been workmates for three years and never mentioned our trouble to each other. Yesterday I was discussing medical bills and just came out with the information that I am a credit nightmare and it’s going to take me years to rebuild…and out came her story. Amazing that we never thought to share with each other and seek comfort and guidance. This morning it was like we were two different people. We had stories about ex-spouse drama, bills, and the most diplomatic ways to handle terrible situations. (Well, when we can hold our tempers long enough to be diplomatic. Admittedly, this sometimes doesn’t happen.)
I wonder sometimes how much better we would feel if we just let it out. I think this must take a huge amount of trust, though. I mean, what if I spill my guts about some crazy thing that is going on in my life…and the person I share it with doesn’t tell me anything about herself? Instead, she makes mental notes about my suffering and decides to make me the next big gossip topic or looks down on me for the rest of our friendship? There are people that would do that, people who use your trouble to make themselves feel superior. When do we start to trust each other? Or do we keep paying a c-note to our therapist for the privilege of getting something off our chests?
Anyway, it occurred to me that we really aren’t open to each other as women in this society. I mean, this has been going on with her for at least a year now, and I have had my troubles for a few months, we have been workmates for three years and never mentioned our trouble to each other. Yesterday I was discussing medical bills and just came out with the information that I am a credit nightmare and it’s going to take me years to rebuild…and out came her story. Amazing that we never thought to share with each other and seek comfort and guidance. This morning it was like we were two different people. We had stories about ex-spouse drama, bills, and the most diplomatic ways to handle terrible situations. (Well, when we can hold our tempers long enough to be diplomatic. Admittedly, this sometimes doesn’t happen.)
I wonder sometimes how much better we would feel if we just let it out. I think this must take a huge amount of trust, though. I mean, what if I spill my guts about some crazy thing that is going on in my life…and the person I share it with doesn’t tell me anything about herself? Instead, she makes mental notes about my suffering and decides to make me the next big gossip topic or looks down on me for the rest of our friendship? There are people that would do that, people who use your trouble to make themselves feel superior. When do we start to trust each other? Or do we keep paying a c-note to our therapist for the privilege of getting something off our chests?
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