Perks!

When Turkey announced he was closing his law firm, I was in a panic at the idea of going through that whole unemployed period again. Everyone kept telling me it wouldn't be like that. They felt it. I didn't feel it. I'm one of those "don't count chickens before they've hatched" people. Apparently I didn't need to feel it though, because everyone else's feelings were right. Thank god for you people and your feelings and your chicken-counting ways.

When Gay Crush and I had our interview, it was interesting. There was no typical interview posturing on either side. He asked if he could give me health insurance through an HMO. I said no; he said okay and wrote down PPO. Health insurance is in the works.

He asked what I made working for Turkey. I told him my salary was $500 a year, but with overtime I earned $550 a year. He offered to pay me $525 a year. When I worked for Turkey the hours were 8:30 to 5:30. Now my hours are 8:30 to 5pm. That half hour makes all the difference. 

Gay Crush wears a t-shirt or polo with dark jeans and dress shoes each day. So I'm wearing jeans and a nice top. Not just on Fridays, but every day. 

"Health and fitness is very important to me, so I'd like to offer you up to $100 a month towards a gym membership of your choosing. Would you be interested in that?" Okay, now if you said that to a future employee and their response was, "Nah, I like being a fat slob," wouldn't you ... second guess your decision to hire them? Maybe they're not so smart after all. So I said yes not only because yay how awesome, but also because I wouldn't respect him if he respected me if I'd rejected the offer. My plan is to start gymming it up as soon as I have health insurance. If you get a call from someone crying and asking you to tell them to suck it up and go to the gym, it's me. 

Gay Crush gave me an iPad! He got a newer generation one and gave me his old one, but still. A real iPad! I am totally going to figure out how to use it just as soon as I get wireless. People keep saying I can download things onto it at work and then use those things at home without the wireless. But I don't know what things they're talking about, and if it's games, well ... I already fuck around enough in my free time. I don't need more easy ways to do that. 

I'm getting business cards. I'll be sending each of you five. You can put one on your refrigerator. When Gay Crush asked me, "Do you think you want business cards?" I asked back, "I don't know. Do you plan on hauling me around anywhere?" He doesn't know. Hey, he flies to NY a lot; I'd be more than happy to be hauled there! Nobody's ever given me business cards, but that makes sense, because legal secretaries really never leave the office. Sometimes people ask for a business card, but you just hand them the attorney's card. 

Another perk is that Gay Crush is ... mentally stable. Like, every time he walks into the office, he's got the exact same personality. He's a generally happy guy. If he gets upset with one person, he doesn't take it out on another, and gets over it quickly. He vents for ten seconds, and then moves on. 

Also, he doesn't have an ego. He left it to me to cut and measure the contact paper for the shelves in the office kitchen, but he would have helped if I'd asked. (I'll be asking tomorrow because I'm too short to reach the higher shelf. Just for placement help though; I'll do all the cutting.) Gay Crush has crawled under desks to get at outlets, picked up desks to access other outlets, etc. He doesn't waste his time, but he doesn't think he's too good to do things that need doing. 

One time many moons ago, on a really hot day, Turkey arrived at the office with a Jamba Juice smoothie in hand. He stopped at my desk to pick up his messages, looked at me sweating under the skylight, and thought out loud, "Oh. I should have asked if you wanted anything." I smiled and said nothing. Yes, that would have been nice. Turkey wasn't that kind of nice. Turkey was the kind of nice where he wouldn't fire you if you were five minutes late coming back from your lunch hour because he made you pick up his lunch on the way back. 

Then there's Gay Crush. Every time he runs out for a coffee, he asks if I want anything. If I said yes, he would refuse to take money from me. We agreed that I will do some personal errands for him, and he always encourages me to take as much time as I need, and reminds me not to use my lunch hour. So far I've bought him conditioner.

So technically, at the end of the year I'll probably have earned less than I did working for Turkey. That's okay though, because it's only $3,000 less for 120 fewer hours per year, and my quality of life has skyrocketed.

Is It Too Early To Say Bah Humbug?

The Christmas commercials are out in full force. They were trickling out about two weeks before Halloween, but now that Halloween is over, they are being rolled out blatantly. Halloween has become the new Thanksgiving in terms of when Christmas preparations can start.

It all disgusts me. To be fair, probably because I can't really afford to buy any presents these days, which means I don't feel right accepting any presents these days. But still. I know that it would be bad for the economy if everyone "skipped" commercial Christmas presents (and yes, Hanukah presents too). But I'm a big believer in putting the oxygen mask over your own face first, before turning to make sure your seatmate is all set.

So I really think that everyone should skip holiday presents that are not homemade this year. It was only a few years ago that I found out people actually go into debt to buy gifts for people around the holidays. This fact still shocks me. I can't think of anyone who wants a gift even if it means someone would go into debt to give it. Except kids, and the younger ones can be happy with inexpensive stuff and the older ones can learn what's going on in the world.

Yes, if enough people don't buy crap at WalMart then some people will get laid off from there and then they will file for unemployment and there will be an even further drain on our society. But where does it end? We're in this vicious cycle that needs to stop.

Thank You Brooklyn!

As of tomorrow, I will see a lot better thanks to you!

Guess Who's Getting Married!

Okay, not me. While I have wanted to be married, nobody has wanted to marry me. 9am's friend Derek who I met once is getting married next weekend. 9am told me tonight that he will be going out to the Midwest for the wedding, which he is in.

This led us to discuss weddings a little bit. Once, when I lived in Florida, I planned an entire wedding in my head. And more recently, I have had the opportunity to hear lots of wedding talk what with Golden Boy and Crazy Girl planning their wedding.

The most fun part seems to be registering for presents. Shooting a gun that can't kill anybody. I like the idea of registering. Not just for weddings, but in general, for all occasions. People seem to not have enough free time these days - why give them the work of having to return or exchange gifts when you could just magically know what they want by looking at a registry?

When I give someone a gift, I want to know they'll like it. I want it to make them happy, not for it to make their heart sink as they think about when they'll be able to dash to the store to exchange it.

9am happily told me what he is giving his friend as a wedding present. And after I finished laughing my first thought was "It is time to start blogging again, and this is what I must lead with!"

A flashlight. And a tool thing. Like a Swiss Army Knife, but it's not actually Swiss Army. Oh yes, my friends. 9am is totally giving this to his friend and the friend's new German bride. And it's not a joke. 9am truly and genuinely believes these are great gifts. So great in fact, that he bought one of each for himself.

9am went on to tell me that he always tries to buy something that's not on the wedding party's registry. I think he believes it's more personal. I asked if this particular groom, Derek, often does the types of outdoorsy things that would benefit from flashlights and tool ... thingies. 9am was not sure.

Oh, and the best part? The inspiration for the flashlight was my friend, whose building lost power a few weeks ago.

Thank Yous To Those I Don't Know

Shit you guys, way to make a person's jaw drop. Thank you to the Oaklander (Oaklandnite? Oaklandnette?) who sent this. I don't know where to send the thank you so I'm posting it here in the hopes you'll see and know it's for you.

In less than one month three members of my family have died. Since a few days ago when rent got paid, I have had less than $100 in my bank account. It's the least amount of money I've ever had since opening a bank account. To say I am scared would be an understatement.

However. Things are slowly and cautiously looking up. There's this picture. There's my friend who hired me to watch her baby for a couple of hours each day for the next week or so. There are some interviews coming up. There's email and real mail and comments and encouragement and intuitive healing and as of today's trip to the library there's now the dvd for My So-Called Life (until the 11th, when I will return it).

So I am feeling hopeful. If everything goes well, there will be a lot of paying it forward I'll be doing in 2009.

My Halloween Utopia

Wouldn't it be awesome if instead of those little short people knocking on your door looking for candy, someone knocked on your door and offered you some of their candy? This would be the ideal situation for me. Because all I want is one. Not an entire bag, not lots of different candy, just one or two cups.

My mother was always a door-hog when it came to Halloween, pushing me away from the front door with her body when the bell rang, even going so far as to block the opening by standing in front of the door so not only was I unable to ever give out candy, but I couldn't see the costumes people wore.

Eight years ago I moved out, but the only time candy was involved in door-knocking it was in Florida, and two of those little short people wanted me to buy it from them for some school thing. So I don't ever bother buying candy. But I could really go for a cup or two. Would it be terribly wrong to mug a shortie for that? I wouldn't take ALL their candy...

Well That's a New One

My (jewish) boss is obviously very late in sending out his holiday cards and gifts today. But he's been out sick and busy with actual work so today is the day. Plus he's a partner so he can get away with shit like this.

He furiously kept shoving bottles of wine in boxes, and slapping post-its on them with names like "Ann Sullivan" and "Josh Cohen" and "Joe Murphy" as if I'd be able to look up those names in our contacts database and only get one hit.

Finally at the end of the day, having exhausted all my investigative abilities, I went to J-Boss to ask what company Joe Murphy works for, so I could narrow
down the hits and get the correct address. J-Boss didn't know. "Call Greta McGregory; she's dating him and will know."

Ummm ... really? You want me to call the woman he's banging? This felt so weird, so unprofessional. No. Not unprofessional. Just ... not a very business-like thing to do. And yet I called.

GY: Ms. McGregory?

McG: Yes?

GY: Hi, this is G, calling from J-Boss's office. I feel kind of funny doing this...

McG: **giggle** (somebody clearly cracked open a bottle of wine already)

GY: ... but J-Boss told me you would have an address for Joe Murphy?

McG: **giggle** Well, he'll be with me through the end of next week. Can I ask what it's for?

GY: Oh of course; it's just a holiday present.

McG: Sure, you can send it to my house.

And so I am. Sending a present to the house of the woman the guy is banging. Happy Holidays. Enjoy your wine.

Ugh, and wouldn't it have been awkward if we weren't sending Greta wine too?! Thank goodness we are.

All I Want Is Time and Grammar Lessons

Most of the time people are surprised when they find out I don't have a bachelor's degree, and that pleases me. Except, then they expect me to know things. Like grammar. Unfortunately, they don't teach grammar in college. Well, actually they do sometimes, but I tested out of those non-credit classes when I took the college placement test.

I need third-grade grammar. Apparently, I was very busy in third grade - my worst grade of elementary school, made even worse due to it following my best year - and along with map skills and parts of the eye and ear, completely missed learning grammar and parts of speech. During a huge punishment in 7th grade, I managed to teach myself some very basic, elementary if you will, grammar. Like what verbs, nouns and adjectives are.

There was a tv show called the Adventures of Beans Baxter, and it's from that show that I learned what an adverb is. Prepositions and prepositional phrases are still iffy, and I can't stop ending sentences with prepositions.

I'd like to think it's just because I'm sick that I've made a lot of grammatical errors at work this week. But I know that's not the truth. I have no clue how to do those posessive apostophes and all that shit. The partner just told me yesterday that when a last name ends in a Z, you treat it like an S in terms of apostrophes. I did not know that. Do most people know that? How the hell do you learn these things?

Hanukah is a week away, and my family keeps asking what I want. I want to learn grammar - that's what I want. I don't want a book that teaches grammar, because I can't learn that way. I want someone to actually sit down and teach me the things I don't know in a way that I can learn them.

I know people like to give presents that don't require time and effort beyond buying something, or some things. But I have too many things as it is. I need fewer things. In fact, if someone gave me a present of helping me sell or give away some of my things, I'd love that. If I get another vase, I will cry. What I want, is what I need. And what I need, is help with various things. And yoga classes. It's time to bring back the fucking yoga.

It Really IS All About Presentation

I can't believe I missed seeing Marie pass out. Damn dinners with friends for getting in the way! Wait I mean, thank you so much for dinner. Yeah that's it. Thank you. Ahem.

Yesterday morning my brother called and suggested we meet for lunch. Excellent, I love meeting people for lunch. Wanna do lunch?

When I arrived, Golden Boy was waiting for me. We sat down at an outside table, and he put a brown paper bag from Ace Hardware in front of me. And then we proceeded to have the weirdest conversation of my entire life.

Golden Boy: I know you're trying to watch what you eat, so I packed you a special healthy lunch.
GreenYogurt: You got me lunch from Ace Hardware?! (He packed me a picnic? That we're going to eat in the Financial District, seated at restaurant tables?)
GB: Oh, no that's just the bag it's in.
GY: You know I was just going to get a salad here, right? I wasn't going to eat anything unhealthy.
GB: Well, just see if you like what I packed you. If you don't like it, I'll get you food from here.
GY: Is there enough for you? What are you going to eat?
GB: Oh, I'm going to get food here. What's in the bag is all for you.

Golden Boy nodded at me encouragingly. I opened the bag, and pulled out a ziplock. Of green grapes. I pulled out the next ziplock, which had two Fig Newtons. Another ziplock had baby carrots. The last one was wrapped in tinfoil. Like a sandwich.

GY: You made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? (Isn't a salad healthier than a pb&j sandwich? This whole thing is so weird. Should I cry? This IS weird, right? I know sometimes I notice little things that other people think nothing of, but it IS weird to bring food to a restaurant, right? Right? And I have to eat this special healthy food brought from home while he gets to eat food from the restaurant?)

Golden Boy encourages me to unwrap the tinfoil. PB&J are the only sandwiches I like. But you know what I love even more? Green iPod fucking Nanos!
Who needs drugs to get high when you get birthday presents presented to you that way? I had a hard time sleeping last night, what with being so excited to have joined the iPod masses.

Seriously, it was the absolute coolest presentation of a gift I've ever had or heard of in my entire life. Thank you Golden Boy and Crazy Girl! I love it, and you.