Kill That Turkey

It is fast closing on that long standing tradition, Turkey Day, when all the family comes to eat of much goodly goodness, drink too much, doze in front of the television and argue about who was more wronged in Junior Highschool.

I personally hate Thanksgiving. I hate having to buy the food, cook the food, clean the dishes, clean the house, or even talk to the family. Normally, I like a nice out of country vacation instead. Year before last I was having surf and turf while watching the sun set on the Caribbean instead of having family over. Why couldn't I be that smart again?!

My kitchen has been under construction since June and there are no signs that it will be ready in time for the big day. I still don't have doors on any of the cabinets and the drawers aren't back in yet. Two walls are nothing but drywall with no paint and only half the crown moulding is up. *sigh*

Maybe I should book us a table at one of the restaurants in the area, it wouldn't cost much more and there wouldn't be dishes to clean (worth at least $20 bucks all by itself!) but even if I pull off Turkey Day, I am still supposed to have Christmas at my house.

Time to get out the cattle prod and aim it at the contractor. I wonder where I should hit him first?

The Joys of Report Writing
Well, I have managed to get both reports that I put together out this week. Sometimes I think it is a miracle that anything ever gets approved and signed in any large size Bureaucracy. Every document is picked over both for content and presentation almost endlessly. Not only must no one be offended, nothing misworded, or subtly demean anyone in power, it must also be perfectly aligned, properly spaced and correctly indented.

The problem with this week's report was the the charts of page three are a different size than the charts on page four. Nevermind that those charts have always been that size or that they are carefully arranged to be exactly the same size as the other charts on the same page, or even that the text will have to be impossibly small in order for all the of the charts to have the exact same size. That is truly beside the point.

I sip my coffee and resize the charts, trying to remind myself that all of this amazing bullshit is well compensated. Maybe it is break time, yeah, that's the ticket.

Plastic Surgery

I was surfing different websites randomly. Sometimes I get on a subject or an idea and I follow it to its natural web conclusion. Today was Plastic Surgery Day. I saw before and after pictures, worst plastic surgery blunders and discriptions of plastic surgeries from a clinical point of view.

I have never been one to go in for plastic surgery in a major way, but I don't hold it against others who do. I just don't want anyone hacking on MY face like that and I don't want to risk looking like I am perpetually walking through a windtunnel.

Why do they call it plastic surgery? Is it because if you do it enough your face looks like it was formed out of plastic? Looks so phoney it could pass for plasic? The more I see of people who do more than just passing plastic surgery, the more I am inclined to give it a pass. They don't really look younger, just smoooother and somewhat alien.

Having said that, I was intrigued by a procedure that is called 'featherlight' plastic surgery. Basically you don't end up with staples in your temples or having someone nip off the raggedy extras around your ears after doing the big pull back (ewwwwwwwwwww). I guess we are all somewhat susceptible to the temptation of trimming off an extra few years, even if we don't like to think of ourselves as vain. But, truth be told, if I had the $3-5k it would take for the surgery, I would probably just waste it on a good vacation instead.

We all have to have our priorities.

The Internet - The Global Village
I love the internet. I love being able to speak to people from all over this country and all over the world. I have friends in a dozen countries and even more states. We can talk on the relative merits of football vs. soccer, best vacation sites, best scuba diving, the latest episode of Survivor, etc.

I love that I get to pick my friends by what they enjoy rather than happenstance and physical location. That is not to say that we agree on everything, that would be boring, but with many of them I know we have been to some of the same places, read the same books, watched the same movies, etc. etc.

The downside is that, just as you think of these people as friends and almost family, the distance becomes most apparent. You cannot pop by their house and drop off a bowl of soup when they are sick, pick their kids up from school if they are in a jam, or even give them a hug when they are feeling down.

This physical distance, paired with intellectual closeness is difficult for the mind to process logically, and it makes me wonder what other challenges our reptile brains will have to deal with in the next 50 to 100 years.

Of course the good part is that you can be as big an asshole as you ever wanted to be (and can't or you would get fired) and no one can reach across cyberspace and give you a well deserved spanking. Or maybe that isn't the good part...I forget.

Family Matters

Every family has its black sheep. I like to think that I am the unusual one in the family, but truth be told, it is my sister. Crispy (as I refer to her) lives for male attention and hasn't quite made the mental transition into her thirties, much less her late thirties. She still wears the big hair, the spikey heels that show off her ankle tattoo and tank tops with cute little sayings like, "Porn Star" (imagine a graphic of a star rather than the word star).

She is always in trouble. She always thinks the world is doing her wrong and she always shows up at my doorstep at the most inconvenient times (although, honestly, there is no convenient time to have someone eating up your groceries and bumming money from you).

Last time she showed up I was poorer and saddled with a cat. She showed up last night at my doorstep. What am I supposed to do, shut the door in her face? This being related stuff sucks.

Empty Pockets

Well, I am back from Las Vegas less a couple hundred dollars. It seems that Sin (not to be confused with Sim) City is the only place that can make you happy while they are sucking the money out of your pockets. I was grateful that I didn't lose more actually.

Memorable Moments:

I saw a player double down on a 12 when the dealer had an ace showing...and he WON (God protects fools and idiots I guess)

The blackjack dealer mentioned that the Megabucks was due to win, since it was over 13 million dollars. This was Saturday night with me not due to leave until Monday morning. It is my ritual to play Megabucks just before I leave. I put 21 dollars into the machine, which is good for seven pulls.

30 minutes later, someone won the Jackpot. I should have listened to that dealer, they know what they are talking about.

Due to dry air and cigarette smoke, my throat is shot. I sound like I am gargling through a box of rocks, but I am back at work and trying to look productive.

My new found work ethic should last about 30 minutes.

Las Vegas

Like all good bureacrats (and an army of bad ones as well) I am off on another vacation. If the title didn't completely give it away (in which case you probably aren't smart enough to read, much less find my blog) I am going to Sin City.

What would a middle aged bureaucrat be doing in Sin City you ask? Well, use your imagination and remember what happens in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas (along with a goodly portion of your savings account).

I love Las Vegas. Where else can you see the world's cheesiest Castle, a 2/3rd size replica of the Eiffel Tower AND the Brooklyn Bridge all in walking distance?

Last time I went there on vacation I went on a mission to find the cheapest food in the city, and MAN is there some cheap food in Las Vegas. There is the 12 inch hot dog for 99 cents, the 99 cent Marguerita, the 99 cent Shrimp Cocktail, the 99 cent bottle of beer (starting to see a pattern are we?) the only thing that these items have in common is that they all cause SEVERE indigestion. I could not eat hotdogs for nearly four months after ingesting one of these little beauties at Westward Ho (I swear every time I see that name I think of an army of prostitutes being called out from Baltimore to join the party).

The time before I decided to ride every ride in Las Vegas, including the New York New York rollercoaster. I swear that thing made my brain hurt and possibly killed a couple thousand fully functioning cells. Even though they have strict rules about emptying your pockets and not taking your purse etc. the first 360 loop had a rain of change and a very deadly looking ink pen fly by my head.

Wish me luck and hope to goodness I don't break down and eat another hotdog!

Lazed and Perfused

Okay, I think Pickle Juice (see the links on the side) is starting to rub off on my titles here.

Today I am tired, tired, tired and I have no one to blame but myself. I mean, who Else can I blame for keeping me up past midnight three days in a row, knowing I would have to get up sometime between 6:00 and 6:30 a.m.? (usually a might closer to the 6:30 time, but I digress)

Okay, I admit it, I am obsessing. I am sucking down the coffee of contrition for my sins. I admit it, I have an obsessive personality. If some is good, more is better. Like a game or a new hobby? Keep going until you drop. Find a new and fascinating person? Stalk them like the love starved weirdo you really are (okay, no, I take that back. I don't want to sound too pathetic.)

I keep telling my coworkers that I think I might be coming down with something. They must think I am halfway to dying based on how many times I have used the sickness excuse for dragging around like a java zombie.

Does that mean I will go to bed at a decent hour tonight? *snort*

Yeah, fat chance.

Rainy Days and Mondays
Well, the rainy season has begun here. It seems that everyone forgets how to drive in the rain. This strange form of mass amnesia causes all sorts of havoc during rush hour traffic. Skidding and hydroplaning being the order of the day. Sometimes I think that my fellow commuters are on a not-so-secret mission to kill me on my way to work.

I really hate it when it rains because I park about 4 blocks from work (a priveledge I actually pay for) and my shoes are always unpleasant and damp by the time I get into the office. I suppose I could run around barefoot or in stocking feet, but that wouldn't exactly project the go getter, promote me now image I sometimes try to emulate when I am not too busy surfing the internet and sucking down java.

I have friends that work in the trades, that is drywall, painting, roofing, masonry, and electricians. I know they work hard for their money and come home physically exhausted. Sometimes I envy them because they get a feeling of accomplishment when a house goes up, a roof is completed or the lights go on when you flick the switch.

But on rainy days, I will take my nice, buttwarming office chair.

Empire Building

Someone asked me about how many 'layers' government has. It can truly be a long ride to the top. I have a supervisor, her boss, his boss, his bosses' boss, and the boss above that who reports to the director. That is one, two, three, four, five...I am losing count here.

The reason it is this way? Simple. Job padding and Empire building. there are only two ways to promote in government. One is to interview for a promotion (after testing, getting on the list and being reachable) and get hired, but this is by no means the preferred method of advancement. The way to bureaucratic riches and the funnest way to promotion is to promote thyself. You do this by building up the pyramid propping up your title (and pay). By making your area bigger (more employees = more supervisors = more and higher managers, Viola!) and more populated.

Can't get more positions due to economic downturns? No problem, just steal them - also known as Consolidation. The winner in these "merges" gets to be the boss man and take home the golden paycheck. This fuels an endless array of studies and reports that tout efficiencies and savings but really aim to feather the top guys nest.

And people say that private industry is cutthroat.