Category: life

What’s in a name?

The Good Man, being the very good man that he is, agreed to run my car into the shop today. So as such, he drove me to work this morning.

As we careened down the Bay Area highways, we were cut off by a Mercury Mountaineer.

I said to TGM, “The Mountaineer…that was never really a big hit, was it?”

TGM said, “No, it’s essentially a Ford Explorer anyway.”

Then I replied, “I always thought Mountaineer was a stupid car name anyway.”

Which tipped off a whole conversation about absurd car names…TGM was on a ROLL. I laughed my head off and in the middle of his rant, I said, “I foresee a blog entry.”

So here it is. The content below is mostly stolen from the brilliant mind of TGM.

Without further ado, my top five most absurd names of cars you’ll see rolling on the roads today:

5. Nissan Armada. “What, is the main feature that it sinks off the coast of England?” said TGM (A comment that had me laughing so hard I got a stitch in my side.)

4. Dodge Durango. What a wimpy SUV name. Have these people ever actually BEEN to Durango. I have. And what is it about the sleepy Colorado town that the car should evoke? Am I supposed to think snow? And mountains? No, I think tourist trap. Look at me in my rolling tourist trap.

3. Chevy Avalanche. “Now that name is appropriate, it is a disaster rolling down a hill.” (TGM was on fire this morning.)

2. Toyota Echo. “It’s bears a faint resemblance to a car, but isn’t actually a car.”

1. The winner and still the King: Ford Probe. “I sure as hell don’t want something made by Ford up in space,” said TGM. To which I replied “or up my butt”.

Yes, childish as I am…the Ford Probe makes me think of something more…medical. I don’t want to think of uncomfortable medical situations while driving to work every morning.

Or maybe that’s just me.

Anyhow…there were plenty more, but I was laughing so hard, I couldn’t make notes.

Special thanks to TGM for both his brilliance and for making the ride to work more fun.

If you drive any of the above automobiles, I’m sure it’s a *fine* car…just has a dorkish name! :)

Haaawhoof!

That approximates the exact sound I made at about 10:55 this morning.

I had a “meet and greet” with the boss of my boss, a high ranking and incredibly powerful woman.

I mean, she’s brilliant. Has a degree in chemistry and another in finance. Worked for an oil company in Houston for many years and then made her way west. The continuing upward steps in her career are admirable.

Her background is deep, diverse and amazing.

Let’s just say this: She is a force to be reckoned with.

And as a new employee in her organization, I got the chance to have an hour of her time so she could get to know me and so I could get to know her too.

I was told by my mentor that I should, “come with an agenda, don’t leave open air”. Her time if valuable, to be sure. And so I did. I came to the table with a print out of questions I jotted down and I noticed she took note that I had.

I asked her about her background, her management philosophy and what I can do to be effective here at the company. And she answered very candidly.

I even asked her what is her nitpick so that I can manage to that. She told me two.

That’s some managerial self-awareness!

So it was an intense hour, but good, meaningful and filled with useful information.

When it was over, I came out of her office pitted out (meaning, I needed a Right Guard moment, raise your hands if you’re Sure, etc).

So, for me, the life moments that cause me to get pitted out all get measured on the scale of completing the orals for my Master’s degree.

Wearing a suit, in front of my professor committee, at the marker board, explaining economic theory. Yeah, despite two coats of D.O., I was WAY pitted out that day. That was the worst.

So if we call “Master’s Orals” a 10, today’s moisture was about a three. So low, but still…

I musta been more nervous that I even thought going in.

When all was done, I came out of the boss lady’s office, went up two floors to my office, ripped off my cardigan, and uttered a long drawn out “haaawhoof!”

You know the sound. The one you make when you’ve finished your laborious taxes. The one you make when your shaky team is up by one with three seconds on the clock in a playoff game and they manage to win.

The one you make when you want very much to make a good impression on someone who could literally make or break you and your career.

Haaaaawhoooooof!

Mother Teresa of the Flu Virus

As one of the many hats I wear in my new gig, I manage a help desk. Ok, I don’t manage it, I have an incredibly good young manager who manages that team. She’s new at the role, but thoughtful and smart.

Today is starting out tough for her because we’re getting a series of folks calling in sick. This also includes my own manager, the Director of us all. *coff, coff, sniffle, sniffle*

Not good.

So I was chatting with my help desk manager today about our situation and how we get through it. While talking, she pulled a box out from under her desk and handed me the following things:

She is now going desk to desk, ministering to the sick and wounded, laying on hands and providing the same kit to each of our call agents.

See, it’s our fiscal year end, and we really need these folks on the phones, doing their jobs.

And with an arsenal of flu fighting products, there shall be no excuses!

I think this new, young manager is one smart cookie. I better keep an eye on her, I think she’ll be running circles around me in no time.

How lucky I am to have good folks on my team!

Rumor has it

So. Word on the street is that today is December.

But I’m not buyin’ it.

Because I’m fairly certain I did NOT authorize 2008 to dissipate so quickly.

Nope. No way. No how. I don’t care that people are Christmas shopping. I don’t care that decorations are cropping up. Nope.

Nuh uh.

Not gonna do it.

Oh, and *someone* must have told the Bay Area that it’s December today because it went and got all overcast and foggy and crappy and, well, wintry.

I’m telling you, if we all band together against this thing, it doesn’t HAVE to be December. Roll back the calendar, get the sun out of storage and let’s go on about our lives circa, I don’t know, June?

How does June work for you? Do I hear a July? Going once, going twice…

Please stand by…I’m going to go see about fixing this.

Time, she is a cruel mistress…

Was listening to the radio on the way to work yesterday and the two deejays, one man, one woman, were discussing the work holiday party they had just attended.

The man told the woman how nice she looked. He said it with a bit of surprise. This was chalked up to the fact that since they work the morning show and go to work so early in the morning, she rarely “does it up”, opting for easy and comfortable.

The female deejay, who is teetering on the edge of forty, launched into a hilarious diatribe about everything it takes for a woman to get it together to go out to a nice event.

She said something to all the ladies listening about “remember how back in the day all you needed was a bottle of Love’s Baby Soft and a Bonnie Bell lip smacker to get started on your day. Oh, and maybe some mascara.”

And this, of course, hit a nerve with me.

Hit a nerve hard, actually, as yesterday evening I had a way overdue appointment with my hairdresser to get all the grays covered. And they are many.

I remember when a box of color had never touched this head.

I remember when I never even had to wash my face at the end of the day. Zits? They were not a problem.

How is it that I have more acne in my late thirties than I did in my teens? Does that seem right to you? Don’t answer that.

The lady dj went on to talk about how in order to go out to the party, she had to spackle over all the skin issues, then cover up the cover up cream.

And the hair, oh the hair is a whole other project.

I remember back in the day when I would brush my hair, and it would lay nice. I put no spray, gel, mousse, shaping wax, pomade, or anything else into it.

And I rarely ever wore makeup. I didn’t need it. My dewy fresh skin and peaches and cream cheeks were enough.

When, exactly, did the skin around my eyes get…crepe-ish? This I do not enjoy.

Ah well, I won’t go silently into that good night.

I’ll fight with the help of my color goddess of a hairdresser, a wand of cover up crème, skin renewing lotion and the help of darn good lighting!

I won’t begin to talk about the “foundation” garments I have to sling shot into to be able to put on a nice dress. It isn’t pretty.

That’s another post for another day. Or was another post on another day.

Meanwhile, wishing all out there a Happy Turkey Day! I’m going to attend a pot luck at work, get fattened up like a Butterball, and leave work early.

All in, not a bad day.