Quote of the Moment:

It was on a guy's shirt at the CNE. I smiled.

    "If life give you melons, then maybe you're dyslexic."

TGIF

Though actually, I wish it were Saturday already. :)

There are still 5.5 hours left in the working day. Then I can sleep for 20 minutes on the subway before 2nd work! :/

Me so sleepy!
...

So my admin assistant (the one with all the gems?) prepared a letter for a client yesterday. Apparently she forgot to put the letter in the envelope before sealing it, but she didn't want to waste the stamps she'd already used, so she just opened, inserted, and resealed.


Thank god I flipped the envelope over before I dropped it mindlessly in the mail.

Also, there were 2 sheets of paper in that 9" x 12" envelope with 3 stamps on it. 2 sheets.

Ah, office life.

After the move

Dear Camera,

Where the eff are you?

mel
...

Reading back some posts makes me totally want to chronicle with pictures!

Quote of the Moment

He didn't cry, but it wasn't because it wasn't spilled...

    "Oh no, no more milk! That's okay though...I got laid!"

It's not like a pony?

No, it's not "like a pony," it's "Mony-Mony" as the title would tell you, by Tommy James and the Shondells.

What I hear:
"...You make me feel (like a pony) So good (like a pony)..."

Actual lyrics
"...You make me feel (Mony-Mony) So good (Mony-Mony)..."

Don't ponies make you feel good too?

"Hello, you've reached Hello"

I just called a client. She didn't pick up, but her voicemail did. I was treated to 2 minutes of the song "Electric" by DNC.

Really??

At the end of her generous sound clip, she didn't even name herself or ask me to leave a message. WHAT was that?!

Another nice lady has never listened to her own greeting. She used the one where you just have to record your name and the automated recording inserts it into the greeting for you. You know the one where it goes: "Hello, you reached [insert recorded name]. Please leave a message after the tone."

Yeah, lady recorded "Hello." Just "Hello." No name, no number, nothing. So you reach "Hello" and you have to leave a message. What's worse is that I think you have to end your own recording, so she purposely said "Hello" and then ended her recording, decidedly thinking that was enough.

If you say so

Listening to Classic Rock on the radio at work, I realize that a lot of songs, I don't actually know the words to--which is not a big deal or anything (since I don't tend to sing along at work). However, I realize that what I've always thought the words were are very off and ridiculous. I've only got three examples right now, but I thought I'd share them and add more when I figure them out. Please keep in mind that I've never known the NAMES of these songs so when I heard them, I had no idea what they were about.

Blue Rodeo - "Bulletproof"
What I heard:
"...I'm not gonna lie about it, I'm not pulling through..."

Actual lyrics:
"...I'm not gonna lie about it, I'm not bulletproof..."

Not bad--pretty close, right? And pretty much along the same lines of thought.

Manfred Mann - "Blinded by the Light"
What I heard:
"...Blinded by the light, ripped up like a douche and I'm running in the night..."

Actual lyrics:
"...Blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce; another runner in the night..."

Okay, so I was like "what??" when I first heard the lyrics, yet no matter how hard I listened, I could not hear anything else. However, now, upon googling the correct lyrics, I have discovered that I am not the only one to hear what I heard--though the most common mis-hearing is apparently "wrapped up like a douche." I am not alone.

The Clash - "Rock the Casbah"
What I heard:
"...F*ck the Caspah, f*ck the Caspah..."

Actual lyrics:
"...Rock the Casbah, Rock the Casbah..."

No, I don't know what a "caspah" would have been...a bad pronunciation of Casper? And how the heck did I convince myself that they would let anyone use the F word on the radio so casually? I was perplexed that anyone WOULD allow that. :)

I will add more as they come up (I can never remember them all).

Damn you auto-correct website!

www.damnyouautocorrect.com

Damn this website. I have spent too many hours hurting my abs over this. Alas, my BlackBerry keyboard is too accurate to be a victim of this level of hilarity. Although, the other day I managed to ask my friend if she went "skyfucing" instead of "skydiving." But that's about as epic as it ever gets for me.

Etiquette down (in) the crapper

I had just gotten into the ladies' bathroom at work and had settled into my stall when I heard another woman barrel on in. I listened as she closed herself into the stall next to mine (even though there were 2 other farther stalls) and settled herself in as well. Now, I don't know about you, but it's awkward enough having to go do your business (#1 or #2) in a public place, but it's a whole other level of awkward added on top when you know you've got an audience listening in.

However, I shouldn't have felt too awkward after all because I was quite sure of myself that she wasn't listening in. How could I be so sure? Oh, because I heard her speed-dial (good ol' BlackBerry sounds) and strike up a conversation with her daughter.

The extra time I spent in my stall wasn't out of stage-fright or modesty, it was out of disbelief. Not only did this woman not have a problem with carrying on a catching-up-conversation with her daughter in a public bathroom, she was relaxed enough to go full steam ahead and take a massively loud dump--splash sounds and all.

    "Hello dear...aren't you going out to Brampton?...but I thought your friend was having a bbq?...*KA-SPLOOSH*...just working until 4 today...*KA-SPLOMB*...that's good...yeah..."

I was totally grossed out and high-tailed it out of there, trying to flush and wash my hands as loudly as I could in protest.

On another occasion, I heard a woman strike up a conversation with the occupant of a stall once she realized it was her co-worker. Awk-ward. How she figured it was her friend in there was beyond me, but I know I get a little flushed (pardon the pun) even when I just run into a co-worker during my enter/exit of the bathroom--how would I feel if someone FIGURED it was me doing my thing in there?

At first I thought I was being picky--I mean, what business of mine is it to be bothered about what people do while doing their business? But then I did a little research and found that it is my business to be bothered. This site let me know that it was not okay for the public bathroom to be used so publicly.

So sixth floor ladies, please keep your shitty conversations to yourself, and keep yourself out of my business, please!

What exactly is it that you do?

A conversation between Geeb and I today revealed that she wasn't quite sure what my occupation was. I don't blame her--in less than 2 years, I've held 4 different jobs. I'd be surprised if any more than a handful of my friends knew exactly what I was doing at any given time. It was a running joke between Brodder and I that we never knew what our parents ever did for a career either.

Anyway, Geeb came up with a great line:

    "You're a job ninja!"

I like it.

We'll steal for free?

Free Identity Theft

That was the subject title of a work email that went out today from our head office. I'm pretty sure that it was just sent internally to staff and sales teams, but I still thought it was funny. What they were actually talking about was that the company is now offering Free Identity Theft Protection to our clients, but it would seem that the author left out only the most important word.

Funny what a difference just one word makes...
...

On a semi-sidenote, one of our friends has unwittingly coined our new favourite term--we now fondly add the word "fuckin'" in front of anything we're even only vaguely unimpressed by. It all stemmed from a one-sided conversation we clearly overheard our friend having one day on the phone.

*answers phone*

Hello? ... Yeah? ... I'm having lunch. ... With friends. ... Where are you? ... Pick you up? When? ... Can't you get a ride? ... How did you get there? ... Do I have to? ... Fine, whatever. Bye.

*ends call*

Fuckin' mom.

All of us present gasped and had to confirm that she was referring to her own mother.

    "Yeah, why?"

Hence, the birth of our new term.

    "I have to work tomorrow."
    "Fuckin' work."

    "Mike's going to be late."
    "Fuckin' Mike."

    "Man, it's really hot out."
    "Fuckin' heat."

The other day we were all at the beach and our friend was using her term very liberally that day, getting a hoot from all of us within earshot. However, when Malcolm called me and I tried to tell him about it, it was funny for another reason.

    "Oh my god, honey, you should be here. She's 'fuckin' everyone!"
    "..."

Whoops.

A Batty Bedtime

Ready to sleep, Malcolm and I were cozy in bed. In fact, Malcolm was already snoozing by the time I called down to the cat.

    "Moo? What are you doing?"
    "What's he doing?"
    "I don't know, but he's thumping around a lot."

Being that our cat was prone to odd behaviours at random, we let him be. He'd already quieted down anyway. Malcolm went back to snoozing, and I continued to look up crappy movie lines on the web. I was distracted a second later by what I thought was a shadow in the hallway. I looked up, but of course there was nothing there.

I continued my web perusing, but a second later, I swore I saw something again. My heart was pounding--too many episodes of Ghost Hunters had over prepared me for this moment. Before I let my imagination get out of hand, I woke Malcolm again.

    "Honey? Honey, wake up--I think there's something in the hallway."
    "What is it?"
    "I don't know...a shadow? It's darting around out of the corner of my eye."

Thankfully Malcolm didn't give me the "too much Ghost Hunters" lecture, but instead groggily put his glasses on to join me in my intent staring out the bedroom door. We didn't have to stare long.

    "There it is! It's...it's...I think it's a bat?!"

Having confidently identified what was catching my attention, we relaxed. I was glad it wasn't a ghostly intruder, and Malcolm was relieved it was just a bat...so he went back to bed.

    "Shouldn't we do something about it?"
    "It's just a bat. We can get him tomorrow."

His answer was the kind of answer for a guy. His answer was NOT the kind of answer for a girl. I was already out of bed and putting on my war clothes.

    "But what if it gets in our BEDroom?!"

Reaching the door to our room, I carefully peeped my head out into the hallway. Nothing. Keeping my head low, I looked into our upstairs office. Nothing. In the next room, the empty guest bedroom, I saw our cat sitting in the middle of the floor.

    "Moo, what are you...argh!"

I instinctively ducked as our winged intruder flew close to the doorway as he frantically circled the room. Ripping the chin-up bar off the door frame, I quickly stepped inside and closed the door. With the light on, I could clearly see the bat; it was flying silent circles around the room in an attempt to find a way out.

I tried to open the window in the room to let it fly out, but found that the window screen was not the type to come out. My next idea was to catch it.

    "Honey? Malcolm, can you get me a box?"

As I slipped out of the room to find a box, Malcolm opened the door and took a video.

    "This is actually kind of cool!"
    "Shut the door! Don't let it out of this room!"

The video completed (and probably already on its way to Facebook), I set to trying to catch the poor guy in the cardboard box I'd acquired. The bat being as fast, panicked and evasive as he was, this was not going to be an easy job. I was making myself dizzy just trying to follow his circular route around the room. Malcolm left me to it. So did Moo.

10 more minutes alone with the bat and I managed to catch him in the box. I was triumphant, but felt sorry for the little guy. He probably went from panicky to down right terrified now that he was closed into a paper box. I wanted to free him as soon as possible.

    "Honey, I caught him!"
    "Already? I wanted to take another video!"

Needless to say, we filmed his release back into the wild from the end of our front door stairs.

The point to this late-night adventure?

I just caught a m*ther-f*ckin' bat!

Fuck yeah.