Tag: Co-workers

Humor, Office, Snark, University

Thwack!

“I’d have you  lot up in front of the University authorities first thing in the morning, if it wasn’t for the fact that you are the University authorities…”
– Terry Prachett

We are moving into one of the worst months of year at work: June is the month building up to the annual July 4th celebration.  This usually involves celebrity VIPs, nearly 100,000 additional people on campus, parades, hiring up to 100 more students for less than a week, and other assorted headaches.  Last year I got lucky and got married instead so I was out of town for the final crisis.

This year I may not get as lucky unless J. and I can come up with a cheap vacation idea.  And then there’s the guilt.  I’d be leaving some of the other girls in an awful lurch skiving off like that.  Plus Hennessy is getting married mere days before and it would rather shabby for both of us to disappear.

However, this nobility of purpose doesn’t make the impending event any less irksome.  It’s my job to get those darling student employees outfitted and, more importantly, in fear of the personal Hell that will await them if they don’t return every last piece of gear to me.  At the end of football season this past year, I was somehow seconded to be responsible for collecting and minding this stuff permanently even though I hadn’t been in charge of distributing it, recording who got what, or when it should be returned at the beginning of the year.  You may imagine the resulting confusion.  And my attitude about it.

Die.

This year will run much smoother since Hennessy and I have teamed up to tackle it, but problems are already creeping up.  Such as the fact that the Special Events department hasn’t given us a time to distribute stuff, and has decided that these students need only three hours of training (to take place three days before this nearly 100,000 people plus pyrotechnics rolls into town).

It’s fortified my bewilderment.  Ever since my personal equivalent of the burning of the Library of Alexandria, I’ve been thinking (again) about some of the glitches of working where I do.

The real problem with this university is, as I see it, is that it’s a combination of a business, a school district with too many children and not enough teachers, and (due to the religious background and funding) a monastery.  Which doesn’t combine too well, professionally speaking.  As a bureaucracy, resources are not always well-managed.  Administration errors are overlooked in the spirit of Brotherly Kindness, but minor problems lower down on the chain of command are punished with all the fervor of an inquisition.  And, completely at odds with religious teaching, good work is not rewarded while bad work is not scrutinized or punished.  It’s baffling.

Friends, Fun, Humor, Office, Work

Coming and Going

“Oh dear.  Hennessy and Vodka?  What sort of operation are we running here?”
“Clearly a P.A.R.T.Y.”
– C. and Sav

Vodka
From "The Capital L" - see Read Me for more details. She's cute, nyet?

The ever fabulous Savvy alerted me to the fact that I too have neglected to mention Daae’s replacement!  (Click link to meet our new friend)  Sav christened her Vodka, which is perfectly appropriate.  Although how so many liquor nicknames are sneaking into our lives is a bit beyond me…ahem…

In happier news, it would seem my Lord and Lady Stompington may have moved out!  Building gossip suggests it, and the unnatural quiet we’ve been enjoying seconds the idea, but it has not been positively confirmed yet.  Fingers crossed, all.  Good fortune and goodbye!

Also, Sav and her husband CK may be moving into our building.  Which would be lovely!  When Venice basely abandons me, it would be nice to have someone I know and like in easy cup-of-sugar borrowing distance.

History, Humor, Office, Work

Prometheus. Bound.

“Hear now a sorry tale of mortal man…”
– Aeschylus

The story of Prometheus is well known, but to recap…  He was a titan who apparently sided with the Olympians when they wandered into Greece, looked around, and said, “We’ll take it.”  Even though Zeus declares himself supreme-overlord-of-all-and-if-you-challenge-me-you-will-get-struck-by-bloody-lightning-I-am-not-kidding!, Prometheus demonstrates over and over again that he is far more clever than the majority of the pantheon.  While Zeus is sneaking around behind his wife’s back, preening in a mirror, and trying (unsuccessfully) to keep his growing horde of illegitimate children quiet, Prometheus decides that he feels like creating humans and developing agriculture, writing, and the other civilizing arts.

"That'll learn you, thinking you're smarter than me..." "Wow. You're a huge jerk. Ow ow OW!"

But when he decided to steal fire (usually symbolizing technology in general) for mankind and smuggled it off Mount Olympus, Zeus finally lost it.  Fed up with his tricks, overwhelming cleverness, and making him (Zeus) look bad, he chained Prometheus to a mountain and sent an eagle to eat his liver everyday, which miraculously regrew each night so he could be tortured in the same way daily, ad infinitum.  One of the pesky downsides to being immortal.

The modern retelling of this myth is currently taking place on our front counter.

In an effort to help transition patrons to the new parking system, an unnamed officer bought two tiny laptops that our employees could use to walk individuals through the online process of registering their cars.  Trouble was that for months the system was hovering in a state of semi-productivity limbo, even on a good day the internet connection on the laptops is shoddy at best, and the computers are almost never used.  Not money well spent, in my opinion.

Not aesthetically pleasing, I feel.

However, one of the more obvious problems with this idea has been the method devised for keeping them in place (as it would be embarrassing for computers to get stolen from a police department); to wit, a tangled mass of wires, power strips, and chains wrapped around one another, the computers themselves, and drawer handles.  Looking both ghetto and ridiculous.

Moral of the story: trying to bring enlightenment and ease to the populace will probably make you an object of aggravation, fit only to be tied up and left to rot.

Holidays, Humor, Life, Office, Silly, Stupid People, Work

When the Tres Leches Rose Up Against The People

“‘Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures; And all are to be sold, if you consider Their passions, and are dext’rous; some by features Are brought up, others by a warlike leader; Some by a place–as tend their years or natures; The most by ready cash–but all have prices, From crowns to kicks, according to their vices.”
– Lord Byron, Don Juan canto V, st. 27

Holidays are fun, regardless of nationality.  Take today: Cindo de Mayo.  Some people celebrate with chips and salsa, some with a fiesta, some with mariachi bands.  And some with bribery.

A certain student is banned from driving on campus.  This is due in large part to him accumulating up to four tickets in one day, parking in service/handicapped stalls, trying to fight our student officers, and claiming that he never received information that three people all told him (at the same time, in the same room together).  He was informed he had the ability to appeal the ban but would not be able to bring his car onto campus until a final decision had been made.  He said he understood and left.

Pictured: the filthy tool of corruption!

Today he came into our office, and asked for Red.
“You know about Cinco de Mayo, right?” he asked.  “It’s today.  So I brought you this.”
He held out a small packaged piece of tres leches cake with a meaningful expression.
“K, bye” he said quickly and hurried out.

Five minutes later we found his car in a non-student parking lot.

The real mystery here is, if he were trying to circumvent parking rules, why did he draw attention to himself by 1) attempted bribery and, 2) (and this is more perplexing) leaving his emergency lights flashing merrily away for over an hour?

How do you celebrate Cinco de Mayo?  Or any holiday for that matter?

Food, Friends, Home, Humor, Work

Half. Baked.

“There is a peculiar burning odor in the room, like explosives.  The kitchen fills with smoke and the hot, sweet, ashy smell of scorched cookies.  The war has begun.”
– Allison Lurie

The end of a semester is always a bit sad, largely because we often have a turnover in student employees.  Today is Daae’s last day and Sport’s second to last day.

In honor…actually, in mourning…of the day, Wise and I decided that we wanted to do something for them and I said I would make a bunch of cookies for the office.  Unfortunately I had my creative writing final which lasted until 8pm (which was a surprising amount of fun, but that’s another post) and then I had to spend half an hour Harley (yes, I named it), so I didn’t open my cupboards until 9:30 which is when I discovered we had no butter – or milk, or bread, but who’s keeping tabs?

(Side note:  We go through butter at an alarming rate.  Perhaps I should up my Harley time to an hour?)

So, off to the store.  While I went in with the best of frugal intentions, I came out with butter, milk, bread, apples, oranges, carrots, dried fruit, yogurt, English muffins, granola bars, vegetables, chocolate chips, and evaporated milk.  Oops.

Now, I'm no culinary wonder, but I do know my chocolate chip cookies!

Then I got to work whipping up a double batch of chocolate chip cookies and thanking Mum and Dad for the foresight of getting me an industrial sized Kitchen Aid for a wedding present.  It was all going swimmingly until I pulled the first pan out of the oven.

Something had gone terribly wrong.  They didn’t look like cookies at all, they looked like scones.  But they didn’t taste like scones, they tasted like incredibly dry biscuits.  But they didn’t feel like biscuits, the felt like hockey pucks.  You can imagine my confusion.

We picked up some donuts this morning instead.

Friends, Humor, Office, University, Work

Feature Presentation

“The worst part about this sort of guy is that they marry girls exactly like themselves.”
“Yeah.  Then, they breed.  And there’s more of them.”
– Hennessy and C.

I’m thinking of starting a semi-regular piece: things she and I see around campus.  I think I’ll call it, Double Takes With Hennessy and C. 

Here’s our first offering, found on the doors of Humanities building (photo by H., by the way):

People who refer to themselves as "THE" anything should be shunned by polite society, and possibly forbidden to breed.
Fabulous, Friends, Humor, Marriage, Wedding, Work

Never A Bridesmaid, Once a Bride

“Would you like to be one of my bridesmaids?”
“I’d be honored!”
“Bridesmaid…bridesmatron…?  What are you?”
“I’m not loving matron.”
“How about attendant?”
“Yes, that sounds appropriately royal!  I’d be honored to be your attendant!”
– Marie and C.

Well, well! 

Marie announced her engagement publically a couple of days ago, I got the good news early and bounced around enthusiastically in my parking lot (so as not to become the Stompingtons to my downstairs neighbors).  Then I emailed my mother and told her to ship over as many bridal magazines from the UK that she could get her hands on.  Marie tried a few months ago to steal the ones I trucked home with me to use for my own wedding, the minx.  I was thrilled to be able to send off for some of her own!

Then yesterday Hennessy texted me to say that we get to start making wedding plans for her as well.  And she walked in today with what I can only guess is a small, sparkly country on her left hand.  None of us in the office got any work done between 9 and 10 this morning.  Congratulations, Hennessy!  It’s a stunner!

Surprisingly, I’ve found I get lots more enthusiastic over my friends weddings than I did my own and I always love being included, whether it’s agonizing over flower arrangements, or being in the wedding party.  I love seeing my friends happy and will cheerfully bend over backwards for them. 

Also, I am deeply aware that the only reason my own wedding came together so well was because of the tireless effort and indefatigable support of this fantastic network of friends.  Daae offered endless tips from her days working for a wedding planner, Catriona helped me stuff envelopes for hours on end, Venice went dress shopping and helped me check out the venue, Peregrine flew cross-country to be a part of the event and drove hither and yon with Snickers to pick up flowers, Fairy housed my parents and siblings and attended every single party associated with the wedding from the bridal shower to the reception, Marie supplied food, drink, and blotting papers throughout the day in spite of not feeling up to snuff…the sucess of the whole day is a tribute to lots and lots of people doing me and J. a great many favors.

And I love to return favors!

I’m thinking Marie needs a fabulous English High Tea shower.  With decorations like these, food like this, and the usual required headgear.

Humor, Office, Work

Horror!

 “Work is the curse of the drinking classes.”
– Oscar Wilde. 

It's definitely a rage stroke.

I haven’t complained about work in a while, and there is a very simple reason for that.  I had a rage stroke.  Seriously.  I got so angry that the rage literally had nowhere to go so it just retreated to a corner of my brain and fizzled.  Between what I consider to be bad management with our pet project (which is still giving us a ridiculous amount of grief), and ego running our office in terms of funding, personnel relations, and department communication and day-to-day running, I was just FED UP.

Then, suddenly and blissfully, I just didn’t care anymore.  Of course I’m not so foolish as to think the apathy is permanent.  Just a few days later our copy machine threw up its metaphoric hands and said, “To hell with it,” Hennessy and I got so stressed that she had a minor meltdown and I spent a cathartic ten minutes kicking a brick wall before I went home, and self-entitled people began pouring out the woodwork (think they’ve been hibernating?).  

To top it off, Dilbert™ for the past couple of days has been frighteningly like our department.  Either Scott Adams secretly works here, or my worst fears have been confirmed and every job in the world is exactly the same. 

And still they don't get it...
And still they don't get it...
I promise this isn't an exaggeration. Really.
No. REALLY.