Wish List

I wish that....


OBGYN offices had two separate waiting rooms; One for pregnant women and one for women wanting to avoid pregnancy.

Drinking fountains’ water pressure didn’t fluctuate with the flushing of toilets.

Gyms had skinny mirrors.

Dentist offices had magazines other than Highlight.

Hospital gowns came with instructions.

Chopsticks came with a handle.

Motion censored paper towel dispensers were actually triggered by motion.

80’s style clothing would disappear for good.

Fortune cookies actually dispensed fortunes and not rhetoric.

100 Calorie packs of anything be labeled “Unfulfilling Tease”.

Tale of a Ninja Cat

I am known only as Ninja Cat. My long, sleek, black fur makes no sound as I leap from my training compound (which mom keeps calling a carpeted kitty castle) onto your lap. I am able to hide in every corner and wait patiently under any bed for the perfect moment to swat at your feet as you walk by. I come from a long line of Felis Ninjacus which means I was genetically ordained to be a stealthy killing machine. In order to heighten and hone my lethal skills I must train often, never letting myself become a complacent domestic cat. This morning I set my internal alarm for 3:00 am in order to complete a training session. I silently crept over mom as she slept and while sliding off the end of the bed I contemplated which training exercise I should complete. I performed a quick perimeter check to see if there were any rogue spiders that needed to be swatted into submission but there were none to be had so I then decided to exercise my agility skills another way. I stared at the raised corner of the bed, taking note of its height and distance to where I motionlessly crouched. I flicked one long whisker out in order to gauge the wind speed so that I could tabulate the required speed and velocity of my calculated move. With a flick of my tail and a shimmy of my ass I bounded for the corner of the bed with the speed and determination of a freight train. My back legs effortlessly lifted my body airborne and as I approached the landing zone I extended my front paws out to catch the corner of the bed where I would then use my ginsu-like claws to stick to the side of the bed like Velcro. As the plush fabric of the bed fell between my paws I smiled victoriously knowing that this training session would be a success! I sunk my claws mercilessly into the fabric only to realize that I wasn’t maintaining my hold, I was slipping off the bed! In a panic I began digging my way back up the side of the bed, tearing into any fabric that was careless enough to get in my way. The sounds of my panicked thrashing and cloth shredding must have woken my mom, who snatched me from the clutches of gravity and held me up to her bewildered face. Even though adrenaline from the near twelve inch fall was still pumping through my veins I could tell that mom was even more upset as she stared wide eyed at me, then at the shredded sheets, then back to me. I didn’t want her to worry about me any longer so I quickly licked her nose, wiggled from her grasp and hopped off the bed over to my box of toys. Being that it was still dark outside and mom doesn’t have Ninja vision I found a toy that makes ample noise and swatted it about so that she would think I was unscathed by my near death incident. As I mindlessly swatted at the loud toy I stared at the shredded corner of the bed and vowed that I would train day and night until I was able to stick the landing. It’s not easy being a Ninja Cat…

Corporate Zombies

As I pulled into my company’s parking lot this morning I was running late as usual. I frantically stuffed my keys into my purse and turned my cell phone to silent as I briskly marched towards the front entrance of the office building all the while silently cursing the fact that I was not independently wealthy. As I approached the front entrance I barely regarded all the other employees that were making their way to the door until an entertaining thought crossed my warped mind. They looked like zombies! Walking in a slow uncoordinated mass they made their way towards the front doors. I watched as they filed into the building and went to their prospective cubicles and wondered if this zombie behavior was caused by a caffeine deficiency or if there was more to it. As I settled into my ergonomic office chair I listened to the sound of fingers tapping on keyboards, printers spitting out paper and the shrill sound of the fax machine as my coworkers began their day and decided to observe their behavior closely to determine if in fact zombies were amongst us. After careful observation here are my findings:

Zombie-Like Characteristics Exhibited During My Observation
Dulled Brain Capacity
Slow/Rigid Motor Skills
Speak In Grunts Or Moans
Travel In Groups
Pungent Odor

After completing intensive research on the cause of zombie behavior and the similar behavior exhibited by my coworkers I have discovered that those exhibiting the above characteristics are not the traditional zombie, instead they are a hybrid known as Corporationus Zombius or in laymen terms Corporate Zombie. Both zombie classes share many characteristics but the motivating factors behind those shared characteristics are much different. Listed below is a comparison between characteristics and causes for both the traditional zombie and the corporate zombie.

Traditional Zombie

Symptom: Dulled Brain Capacity

Cause: Brain decomposition

Symptom: Slow/Rigid Motor Skills
Cause: Rigor Mortis

Symptom: Speak In Grunts Or Moans
Cause: Dulled Brain Capacity

Symptom: Travel In Groups

Cause: Hunting tactic used due to slow movement

Symptom: Pungent Odor

Cause: Rigor Mortis

Corporate Zombie

Symptom: Dulled Brain Capacity
Cause: Repetition of mindless tasks for a long time period

Symptom: Slow/Rigid Motor Skills

Cause: Confined to small working space/ limited movement

Symptom: Speak In Grunts Or Moans

Cause: The constant utilization of pointless acronyms

Symptom: Travel In Groups
Cause: Having a regimented schedule (8:30,12:00,5:00)

Symptom: Pungent Odor
Cause: Over consumption of alcohol

Candid Photographer

Dear Candid Photographer,

You know who you are, you are the person lurking in dark corners waiting for that perfectly awful photo opportunity where no one and I mean no one looks good. You crouch low like a spiteful cougar with the knowledge that with this one perfect shot you will destroy your prey’s self esteem. Your unsuspecting victim doesn’t stand a chance as you upload the photo onto social networking sites and tag them in the photo for all to see your evil handiwork.

Memoirs Of A Corporate Prisoner

Dear Diary,

Today at work I was forced to the realization that it was my one year anniversary by my coworkers handing me a card congratulating me on surviving a full year of mindless servitude. I would have preferred to have been allowed to maintain my ignorance regarding the corporate job sentence that I am carrying out and haven’t even attempted to scratch tick marks into my cubicle wall I suppose the card was deemed necessary. After I pretended to read the “Congratulations, one year down and only 40 more to go!” reminder, I subject to being peer pressured into eating sugary confections that I do not enjoy. I call these fun little team building activities “conformity compliance checks ” since every member of management partakes in viewing the event to make sure that everyone is wearing their false smiles and sense of job satisfaction. After choking down an acceptable portion of the sugar laden punishment the spectators shuffled back to their cubicles and all was silent save the sound of keyboards being hammered upon. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.

Lessons On Life From A Semi-Pro

Recently I have graduated to the age of 28. I find that 28 is a halfway house between being semi-clueless and having your shit together. I have learned a few life lessons over the past 28 years and wanted to share them with you.

My Life Lessons:

If it comes from a vending machine it will not fill you up, it will only provide you with excess fat and calories.

If you feel the need to ask if your ass looks big in a particular article of clothing, you already know the answer.

Your hair will never look as good as it did the day you left the salon.

There is no Easter Bunny, Big Foot or the perfect fitting pair of jeans so stop searching.

You can’t fall on your ass gracefully so just laugh it off as you dust if off.

Knowing how to theoretically change a flat tire is nice and all until you have cars whizzing past you at 60 mph.

Drunk texting happens and it’s never pretty.

Shots (alcoholic of course) are the best/worst idea to ever come into being.

Push Up bras may be viewed by men as “false advertising” but if that’s all a guy’s after then it’s all he deserves.

Fashion magazines are good for two things: Showing us clothing that we can’t afford and showing us clothing that we could never fit in.

You can never go wrong with a BOGO.

Chewing gum cannot repair a broken heel.

And finally, after many trials, errors, questions and self doubts I have come to realize that I will always think that my butt is too small, my cheeks are too big and that I have one too many freckles but I might as well enjoy what I have before it starts to wrinkle, shrink or stretch. Life is too short to constantly worry about things that you can’t afford to have altered.