I was taking a ride with my coworker when something shiny in the back of her car caught my eye…

“What. Is. This?” I asked. “OOOHh!!! I wanna see this!” “Mind if I take a peek?” I’m so impressed with my politeness and calm controlled reaction. Usually by the time I took to say those three lines I would’ve already emptied out the entire contents of it and gone through half the stuff. But this is a coworker. I need to display some modicum of professionalism. “I HAVE to look at this OMG!!” *pop* I’m opening the box.

Look at this makeup!!

Get a good close look. There is so much eyeshadow in here, I can’t imagine she doesn’t have at least one of every color!

“Oh that’s just my travel makeup I leave in my car.” “I have at lot more at home,” she says.

I fall over from the thought that there is more at home. I have Cover Girl blush. I have Maybelline mascara, which by the way, I do not recommend unless you like looking like a raccoon or you have eyelash curlers. I have about 16 different eyeshadow colors all “free gift with purchase” gotten. I have 9 eyeliners. I keep my stuff in a makeup bag no bigger than the two of my hands put together. This? This is crazy to me. I love it!! I’d be content with just the travel selection. Just. It’s not that much. Just oh a gajillion eyeliners, lip things, pigments (I don’t even know what those are or how to use them), and eye shadows.

I tell her about my drugstore makeup.
She says “I used Cover Girl when I was 12. With make up, I think you’re at about Jr. High level.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Try kindergarten.”

Train case brought to you by Target. Makeup by MAC.

A few weeks ago, our office hired a new intern about my age and she sits in the office next door, uhh mostly planning her wedding. (Ha! We actually do do work. Sometimes.)  Anyway, I’m her unofficial consultant on all things wedding these days. Who made me the expert?!

“Do you like this invitation or this one or this one or this one?”
“What font should I use for the address label? Calligraphy? Or this or this or this?”
“Which flower should I go with?”
“How do you like this sari or this one or this one or this?”
This Friday after work, we’re planning to go shop for tuxedos and tulle.
The event is going to be a pretty ornate Indian/Western wedding. Right now, her budget is $45k and I say “right now” because who knows if she can manage it what with all the things she wants to have. I don’t understand how people can spend so much moolah on a party but that discussion would be another blog entry.
So far it’s been a fun distraction but also overwhelming with all the choices and decisions. Lucky for her, I’m around to tell her to go with the pink one. You can’t go wrong with pink.

Beyond the news of the tanking economy and our dwindling retirement funds, one thing I’ve noticed that is a red flag of bad economic times is the marking of the end of the federal fiscal year with nary a sign of end of year spending. There was talk of new computers and new laptops, but September 30th came and went and I’m still using my craptop.

Wasn’t it just a couple of months ago when I wrote that my sane coworker was leaving the team?  Now Biblethumper-Grump is leaving!!  There will only be three of us left!  Major bummer.  We’re about to get an intern in a few weeks but who knows how long she’ll last.  Once the interns figure out the boss’ crazy ways, they usually leave for a new rotation.  This bums me out.  I mean, I’m happy for them.  The defectors.  The deserters.  The turncoats.  Truly, I am.  But the truth is, I want to leave too.  It sucks to be the one left behind.  Plus, Grump totally doesn’t appreciate the beauties of where he’s going.  I’m telling him about the farmers’ markets where he is, museums, the botanical gardens, restaurants and he’s unaffected.  The most blank, so-what expression ever.  “I don’t like shopping.”  “I don’t like dining at expensive places.”  Now you know why I call him Grump.  Grr.. good riddance!    Oh and he already told me he’s not going to share contact info with us at his new place.  When I asked, he responded “Probably not.  I’m going to be very busy there.”  Ouch.  I wasn’t even asking for the information so we could bug him about work.  It’s just nice to keep in touch and whatnot.  Or not.

One good outcome I can think of right now: my boss is nicer.

I spent an hour this morning on a commute that just a week ago, took 20 minutes.  By the time I got to the office my bladder nearly burst. 

Speaking of, have you seen the crazy things people do on their morning commute?  

• Read the paper
• Shave
• Apply mascara
• What is this your bathroom?    

Two years at my job.  Milestone.  Huge.  I get a cookie for this.  Somebody give me a cookie!  Or maybe some Xanax.

You’ve heard of the joke about bureaucracy so bogged down and confusing people get passed from one person to the next, to the next, and wind up right back where they started?  I always thought it was an exaggeration.  Of course, I’ve been passed around plenty at work but usually, a few skips and hops later, I eventually get to the right place.  Not this time.  I called a lady asking for budget information.  Let’s call her Jane.  Jane directed me to John, who directed me to Bob, who directed me to Paco.  We’re talking 4 layers here.  Layers of warm bodies who can’t get me two lousy numbers.  So I email Paco, since he was the last contact, and Paco emails me today saying, go to Jane.  *thud*  That would be the sound of my head hitting the floor.  Are you kidding me?  I think I’m going to go back to John since he makes the most money.  Somebody needs to earn their keep around here.

There’s a lady in my office building. Probably in her late 60s, early 70s.

Here’s her bathroom ritual:

1. Enter stall
2. Flush and shut stall door
3. Flush
4. Flush
5. Flush
6. Exit

I don’t know what she’s doing in there and why it requires so many flushes in the course of no more than a minute. Shooting up? Changing her Depends? Playing with the toilet? Your guess is as good as mine. What a waste of water though. All the more reason why toilets should probably run on gray water. At the very least, the public ones.

Two weeks ago, my remaining sane teammate left the team. Granted we were all more or less dissatisfied with our jobs, and sure, we’d have our usual therapy/griping-sessions, but neither of us really actively sought out new employment. Then about three months ago, she got into a pretty heated argument with the boss wherein he said if she was dissatisfied with his treatment of her, she could go find another job. I know he said it in anger but that’s the sort of thing that he does which bristles people. It’s unkind. At about the same time, a lady on another team (who knew of our predicament because she had worked with our boss before) sent my colleague a job opening in her team. Lo and behold, at the suggestion of my boss and the timing of the new opportunity, she applied for that position in the other office.  What had been a team of 7, is now down to 4. Happy for her, totally bummed for me.