Oh, readers, I really have THINGS TO SAY about many subjects, but I think I'll stick with discussing my slightly awkward and tenuously inappropriate social behaviors while in the workplace.
For some reason, I trend towards being the "class clown" at work. At any work. It's strange. Not that it's strange because I'm lacking in humor. On the contrary. I find myself quite amusing and I know that my cats appreciate my jokes and impeccable comedic timing.
But at work....something happens.
It's like the transformation between Bruce Banner and the Incredible Hulk (+1 for Geek Reference). I'll be going about my daily routine and suddenly have this irresistible urge to free style rap. Or to come up with ridiculous (and awesome) nicknames for my co-workers. Or to engage in a one-woman version of charades.
So instead of turning green and rending my clothing, I just collapse my brain/mouth filter and revel in the humorous results.
It's really quite unstoppable.
It's a good thing I work with a pretty relaxed and laid back team. Otherwise I'm pretty sure I would spend more time up in human resources than at my own desk.
The extent of my at-work shenanigans really hit home when I was reminiscing with another co-worker.
Me: Hey, remember the other day when I was wildly inappropriate at work, but it had hilarious consequences?
Them: Oh, you mean when you were re-enacting how to use a plunger when the executive director walked by?
Me: ...no
Them: The time that you talked really loudly about hot dog eating contests?
Me: ...no
Them: When you did that impression of your husband and ended up spilling tea all over the place?
Me:....no
Them: Steph, there are just too many instances of you being inappropriate. I can't narrow them down.
So then I called her a euphemism for "lady of the night" and went on my way.
Most days, I manage to hold on to the slippery slope of professionalism at least until the afternoon (or until I've ingested enough caffeine - whichever comes first), and then all bets are off.
And this isn't even touching the expounded ridiculousness that happens when I start drinking around my co-workers.
Good lord. That's when the small part of my brain that keeps my ~secrets~ gets unlocked and I say all the things that no one should really ever say.
But I think I must just be so adorable that I'm forgiven, even when I'm drunkenly professing my undying love to peach schnapps and laughing like a manic hyena.
I think it's a good personality trait to have, this ability to find humor and to make other people laugh. But it's possible that I might have to start being more sensible about when I start talking about why "T-Bone" is a perfectly good nickname for a co-worker. And I should probably stop telling people that I'll fire them if they don't bring me food.
But if people would only bring me cookies of their own volition, we wouldn't have this problem.
Uh oh. I'm up to 2 cups of tea and it's only 9:30. I sense an early start for Hulk-like hilarity today.
Batten down the hatches, we're headed for a humor tsunami!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Too Hot For A Clever Title....
You guys. YOU GUYS.
I am so hot. And I mean that in the literal "I sweat when I move" kind of way, not in the "check out my nice bum" kind of way.
Not that I don't have a nice bum, because I really do.
But right now the urge to lie prone under a fan trumps my need to do anything else.
I have basically lost the urge to eat. And if you know me, you know that food and I have a very special relationship. As in, I eat it and it repays the kindness by giving me love handles.
And I can't even partake in my second favorite past time, which is engaging my cats in "gentle harassment" (ie: chasing them around the townhouse and talking to them in a high pitched voice).
I can't do this because both of my cats have melted and have formed feline-shaped puddles on my floor.
I was going to spend some time blogging about my propensity to be the class clown at work and how this is likely to land me up in HR, but I'm simply too hot to engage my brain meats.
So you will all just have to wait to hear the story of "Steph and the Awkward Silence", which will be coming when I don't feel like I'm about to spontaneously combust.
Ugh.
I am very much looking forward to autumn.
I am so hot. And I mean that in the literal "I sweat when I move" kind of way, not in the "check out my nice bum" kind of way.
Not that I don't have a nice bum, because I really do.
But right now the urge to lie prone under a fan trumps my need to do anything else.
I have basically lost the urge to eat. And if you know me, you know that food and I have a very special relationship. As in, I eat it and it repays the kindness by giving me love handles.
And I can't even partake in my second favorite past time, which is engaging my cats in "gentle harassment" (ie: chasing them around the townhouse and talking to them in a high pitched voice).
I can't do this because both of my cats have melted and have formed feline-shaped puddles on my floor.
I was going to spend some time blogging about my propensity to be the class clown at work and how this is likely to land me up in HR, but I'm simply too hot to engage my brain meats.
So you will all just have to wait to hear the story of "Steph and the Awkward Silence", which will be coming when I don't feel like I'm about to spontaneously combust.
Ugh.
I am very much looking forward to autumn.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Das Ist Gut
Ok then.
I just (read: yesterday) got back from a wondrous trip to N-Bay, which spanned from Thursday evening until Monday afternoon.
The purpose of my visit was threefold:
1. To visit with my family (including my aunt Ingrid from Germany)
2. To eat lots of food
3. To attend a bonafide N-Bay party, hosted by my parents.
I definitely accomplished all three objectives. And the state of my pants today is making me think that I maybe over achieved on objective number two.
It's hard being so ambitious, I tell you.
The visiting of the family was great. I hadn't seen Ingrid for many years, so when she came to N-Bay my family took the opportunity to catch her up to all the recent happenings (translation: force her to look at 8343989038 of my wedding photos).
My aunt's presence also helped me achieve objectives two and three. In other words, Ingrid was a catalyst for my increased carbohydrate intake over the weekend.
I have to say that I'm quite suspicious of the German drinking water. Ingrid simply does. not. age. It's quite eerie. I'd like to conduct an experiment to see if everyone in Germany remains in a constant form of stasis or if my aunt is just lucky. If anyone would like to help me conduct this important "research", send me an email and I'll tell you where to deposit the funds.
And Ingrid does not just look young. As my dad remarked on Monday morning when Ingrid was flitting around the kitchen, "You don't act like a regular granny". And it's true. For a mother of two, grandmother of five, Ingrid seems to have boundless stores of both enthusiasm and impishness.
Ingrid is definitely not one to sit quietly in the corner and call everyone "Dear". Well, I think she called me "Dear", but she was probably busy giving me a noogie at the same time.
Ingrid is like a bundle of effervescence, personality and happiness all wrapped up in one exuberant package.
And it's wonderful to see her and my dad interact. They've maintained a tight sibling bond across oceans and I know my dad just delights in her presence. They have an easy familiarity that's so nice to observe.
I have the same kind of relationship with my own brother and I hope that our closeness will grow and intensify over time.
(I apologize in advance, because this entry is all over the place. I blame the 23 cups of tea I've had today)
The N-Bay party is a phenomenon unlike any other. It's like a neighbourhood get-together on steroids.
I think, when the party was in full swing, just over 55 people were chattering away on the balcony of my parent's house.
After eating my fill of the appetizers spread all over the house, I managed to flit my way through several conversational clusters.
Here are some of the things I talked about that evening:
1. Cats
2. Fishing
3. Growing tobacco
4. Hash brownies
Good times, good times.
The party this weekend made me think about my own neighbourhood and how, in some ways, we really don't fit the demographic of the area. We don't have kids and we don't have dogs.
What does everyone talk about? Kids and dogs.
I think I tried, once, to assimilate and talk about my cats and I was met with blank, uncomprehending stares.
It went something like this:
Them: Blah blah dogs and blah kids and haha blah kids!
Me: Sometimes, my giant striped cat rolls over on his back and I pet his belly.
Them: ....
Me: That's kind of dog-like behaviour!
Them:...
Me:...
FIN
After that one awkward interjection, I mostly keep to myself. I'm friendly and I don't actively throw rocks at any children (although I've been tempted...), but I don't make much of a concerted effort to interact on any meaningful level.
So, here is what we've learned from this post:
1. I like food (a lot)
2. I like Ingrid (a lot)
3. I've talked about hash brownies with a bunch of oldies
4. I am a bit of a neighbourhood hermit
PS: Ingrid, dad and I also went to Jedediah Island this weekend. On the way back, we checked our crab and prawn traps and actually caught stuff!
And I got over my fear of eating things that look the same dead as they did in life (ie: all manner of crustaceans).
I just (read: yesterday) got back from a wondrous trip to N-Bay, which spanned from Thursday evening until Monday afternoon.
The purpose of my visit was threefold:
1. To visit with my family (including my aunt Ingrid from Germany)
2. To eat lots of food
3. To attend a bonafide N-Bay party, hosted by my parents.
I definitely accomplished all three objectives. And the state of my pants today is making me think that I maybe over achieved on objective number two.
It's hard being so ambitious, I tell you.
The visiting of the family was great. I hadn't seen Ingrid for many years, so when she came to N-Bay my family took the opportunity to catch her up to all the recent happenings (translation: force her to look at 8343989038 of my wedding photos).
My aunt's presence also helped me achieve objectives two and three. In other words, Ingrid was a catalyst for my increased carbohydrate intake over the weekend.
I have to say that I'm quite suspicious of the German drinking water. Ingrid simply does. not. age. It's quite eerie. I'd like to conduct an experiment to see if everyone in Germany remains in a constant form of stasis or if my aunt is just lucky. If anyone would like to help me conduct this important "research", send me an email and I'll tell you where to deposit the funds.
And Ingrid does not just look young. As my dad remarked on Monday morning when Ingrid was flitting around the kitchen, "You don't act like a regular granny". And it's true. For a mother of two, grandmother of five, Ingrid seems to have boundless stores of both enthusiasm and impishness.
Ingrid is definitely not one to sit quietly in the corner and call everyone "Dear". Well, I think she called me "Dear", but she was probably busy giving me a noogie at the same time.
Ingrid is like a bundle of effervescence, personality and happiness all wrapped up in one exuberant package.
And it's wonderful to see her and my dad interact. They've maintained a tight sibling bond across oceans and I know my dad just delights in her presence. They have an easy familiarity that's so nice to observe.
I have the same kind of relationship with my own brother and I hope that our closeness will grow and intensify over time.
(I apologize in advance, because this entry is all over the place. I blame the 23 cups of tea I've had today)
The N-Bay party is a phenomenon unlike any other. It's like a neighbourhood get-together on steroids.
I think, when the party was in full swing, just over 55 people were chattering away on the balcony of my parent's house.
After eating my fill of the appetizers spread all over the house, I managed to flit my way through several conversational clusters.
Here are some of the things I talked about that evening:
1. Cats
2. Fishing
3. Growing tobacco
4. Hash brownies
Good times, good times.
The party this weekend made me think about my own neighbourhood and how, in some ways, we really don't fit the demographic of the area. We don't have kids and we don't have dogs.
What does everyone talk about? Kids and dogs.
I think I tried, once, to assimilate and talk about my cats and I was met with blank, uncomprehending stares.
It went something like this:
Them: Blah blah dogs and blah kids and haha blah kids!
Me: Sometimes, my giant striped cat rolls over on his back and I pet his belly.
Them: ....
Me: That's kind of dog-like behaviour!
Them:...
Me:...
FIN
After that one awkward interjection, I mostly keep to myself. I'm friendly and I don't actively throw rocks at any children (although I've been tempted...), but I don't make much of a concerted effort to interact on any meaningful level.
So, here is what we've learned from this post:
1. I like food (a lot)
2. I like Ingrid (a lot)
3. I've talked about hash brownies with a bunch of oldies
4. I am a bit of a neighbourhood hermit
PS: Ingrid, dad and I also went to Jedediah Island this weekend. On the way back, we checked our crab and prawn traps and actually caught stuff!
And I got over my fear of eating things that look the same dead as they did in life (ie: all manner of crustaceans).
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