Kristabella: Full of Snark Since 1977

Posted By Kristabella on June 7, 2007

Wednesday was my 12^th day at new job. Day 12 will go down in history as the earliest I have ever cried about a job. And AT a job.I cried about my job. On day 12.

It’s OK. It’s not that I hate it so much that I’m crying. I cried because I sometimes get in trouble for being myself. And that really makes me sad because I love me. And I love my personality. And I love that I am so open and honest. It’s me. And I really hate when ME gets me in trouble at work and I have to go on not being myself. It hurts so much I cry.

Now, I’ve made my fair share of mistakes in the workplace. When I was 22 (and 25) (and maybe 27), I was so fucking stubborn that I was going to be myself and damn anyone who didn’t like it. Including the new Vice President and the CFO.

I learned my lesson. It’s okay to bite your tongue. You’re not losing a part of yourself by giving into the corporate culture. I mean, I pretty much got fired because of my big mouth. I hated the CFO at the Niners and all his lame-ass policies. And I let him know it. Because you know why? You’re an ugly man who could really button one more button on your shirt. I don’t need to know that you’re THAT hairy. And P.S. you’re an ass.

Life is all about learning. It’s why you always hear old people say they wish they could go back to being 22 but know what they know now. You’re so stupid when you’re young and you have no idea.

I worked for my dad all through high school and some college. You know what? You can do whatever you want when you are the boss’s daughter. So I wasn’t learning any kind of tact then. (Not that I really have any now. Let’s be honest people.)

I had no problems in college. My work always speaks for myself. And I was awesome at what I did. But I was also a student, so anything I did wrong could be attested to that.

I had many a trouble at the Niners. But I worked through them. (I think.) Kirk and I had quite the discussions. This was when I learned that just being awesome at your job can only take you so far. You have to play their game. And I learned.

I’m totally dancing around the subject of tonight. I had my cry with my mom on the phone. I have met some amazing people this week at new job. People that I will be friends with well after this conference ends. People who I have just met who were concerned about what happened. Because they were there and they knew A) I was in a mess of trouble and B) that I was really upset by it.

I can’t apologize for my big mouth. And I can’t apologize for the fact that I’m an open book. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I tell it like it is. And all those clichés. For those of you who know me, it’s part of my charm. It makes me who I am. And I love who I am and I don’t want to change.

But I also learned that there are boundaries. Just because the VP is awesome and laid back doesn’t mean that they’re still not the VP. This person is still the head of the department. And I can’t loosen up in front of him/her at all. I’ve learned that. The hard way. You need to feel subordinate to them.

It’s hard for me because I’ve had jobs where I have been friends with the boss (and one of my old bosses is still my friend) or jobs where I could be myself with the CEO and things were fine. I’m not used to having to have different selfs. And I know I’ve been lucky to have worked with such great people at every job where I could always be myself.

This post is totally all over the place because my stream of consciousness. I’m awesome. I’m a good worker. I’m funny. I can be a smart ass. I do everything you ask. I’ve worked 14-hour days this week for the conference. I will be your bitch. But I have a hard time not being myself. I don’t know how to handle it. It really, really upsets me.

I learned a lesson tonight. I know I did. I need to set boundaries. And I’m fine during work hours because I’m nothing short of professional. But I need to realize that after 5, glass of wine or not, this person will always be the VP.

I think I’m just worried that I’m going to have to change. And that really makes me want to cry. No paycheck is worth losing yourself.

Category: A Day in the Life of Me, General, Worky Work | 10 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on June 4, 2007

Get your fucking bumper stickers ready.

I am announcing my candidacy for Head Idiot of Forgetfultown. Because I? Should be admitted to some sort of ward for the earliest onset of Alzheimer’s. (And people, my Uncle had a form of it, so don’t take this as I’m making light of the disease. I. AM. NOT. My Fairy Godmother will attest to that.)

So let’s recap my weekend, shall we?

So remember I said I was going to the Cubs game on Friday with work people? Well I did. And it was probably the most eventful Cubs game in history. (And not because I was there. Well, maybe just a little.) Carlos Zambrano and Michael Barrett got into an altercation in the dugout. None of us saw it until we were at a bar postgame. Because we sat behind the dugout and saw into the Braves dugout. No one punched Andruw Jones in the face. Sadly.

And then! Someone ran out on the field! I’ve been to so many sporting events in my life and I don’t think I’ve ever seen that. And for Wrigley’s seats being oh-so-close-to-the-field, I’m surprised it doesn’t happen more. It really doesn’t take much effort to hop that little wall.

But anyway, the Wrigley people didn’t know what to do! They just let him run out there and have a good ol’ time. He ran out to second base and took a bow! Completely clothed! Finally, the on-field people pulled their heads out of their asses and pulled him over to the side and escorted him off the field. And sadly? That was the best part of the game for me! I texted Scarlet about it. Because she opened the can of whoop ass on me and invited me to text her more. Silly, silly Scarlet. (Actually, I text her a lot, considering we only know each other through teh interweb.)

This is not what this post was supposed to be about. But I’ve had a few glasses of wine this evening. And my mind tends to wander. In places I don’t need it going.

Anyway. Candidacy. Me. Full-on Idiot. To the third power. Or to the Nth degree. Something mathy.

(The Cubs thing was semi-relevant. Just so you know.) So I took the bus to work on Friday because I was like “I ain’t driving all the way back to work after going to the Cubs game” (read: drinking heavily, naturally) since I live so close to Wrigley. It made perfect sense. There were enough people cabbing it or driving that I wouldn’t be stranded at the office.

So I made sure I had everything I needed for the game and after the game with me when I left the office. I had to go into the office on Saturday anyway to get laptop and work stuff for sales meeting. So anything that I forgot, I could just pick up then.

That is unless you forget THE most important thing in you bag. In your bottom desk drawer. Five miles from your home.

I would be talking about my keys. MY KEYS! TO MY HOUSE! I am the world’s biggest fucking idiot!

I had a great time at the game. We went out to dinner afterwards. And then I got a few drinks with some co-workers who lived in the City. I took a cab home and when he dropped me off in front of my house at about 10:3o I flippin’ panicked. I forgot my damn keys at the office. What the FUCK was I going to do?

Well I ended up calling my mom in hysterics like any other normal, sane girl would do.

And then I took a cab all the way down to work, had him wait while I got my keys, and then let him cart my ass back to my house. Forty dollars later, I was able to let myself into my house. To do important things. Like fucking check my email. Maybe a night on the street would have knocked some damn sense into me.

Oh, but it doesn’t end there. So I had to be out to the suburbs on Sunday around 5 PM to help set up the meeting space and get the binders assembled and do all the stuff to get prepared for the meeting this week. I left my house in PLENTY of time to get there. The meeting is only a few minutes from my high school. (Not that that means anything. I don’t live near my high school. Just wanted to point out that I knew where I was going. Was not going to get lost.)

Well, about 40 minutes into the drive, I realized I forgot the damn thing that I have to use to access the company’s network to check email and all that shit. One of those little fucking keychains that has random numbers on it. I don’t know what it does. But I need it. So I fucking turn around and go back home to get it. Am model employee.

Like an hour later han planned, I’m back on the road. I’m only about an hour late for the guy that I’m supposed to help set shit up with. I called him at 5 to say “Am asshat. Forgot things. Be late. My bad. Sorry.” I even needed to get gas, but decided running on a teaspoon of gas is better than being horribly late. To the set-up. As the new girl. Am so getting fired.

Yeah. As per usual, I overreacted. I was the only one there by that time. We didn’t set up until like 7:45. And you know what? I don’t even need that fucking little thing to be able to check my email. So yeah. Totally a waste of time. And $4 a gallon gas. To go all the way back to my apartment for little keychainy thing. Stupid keychainy thing.

But since I just decided to declare my candidacy. And need to continue to forget things, I had some wine with dinner. And after dinner. Because alcohol will be my friend in this campaign.

See ya brain cells! It was nice cdlvmfla;kkjvopfnv.

They’ve already left the building.

Category: A Dash of the Crazy, A Day in the Life of Me, General, Rants & Rants | 10 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on June 1, 2007

That’s for Senor Beavis. Who pointed out (nicely offline, not in the comments, as to not make me look like an asshole on teh interweb in fronts of my peeps) that I had the wrong song title for that Blake Lewis cover of the Bon Jovi song. And we had this whole long email conversation back and forth about the title and how I was convinced that iTunes listed it as Shot Through The Heart. Instead of You Give Love A Bad Name. And I remember agonizing (not really) over which was right when I posted it. Because I? Hate to be wrong. Seriously. Ask my brother, who hates to be wrong more than I do. We get into some heated battles. Usually we are both wrong. But we? Do. Not. Back. Down!

Well, as is usually true, I was wrong. Because the iTunes one is called You Give Love A Bad Name. So I’m the fucking idiot. Worst of all is that Bon Jovi (I either keep typing that Jovie or Jove, must we discuss my idiotdom any fucking further?) HAS a song titled Shot Through the Heart. And I stupidly downloaded that song for my iPod. And it’s completely different. (Go ahead and stone me Bon Jovi heads.)

Wow. I’ve reached a new level of head-up-my-assedness.

And hello! I grew up in the 80s! These are my tunes, kids. Word.

(Since you’re all dying to know, I also downloaded Blake’s When the Stars Go Blue and Time of the Season which were his other best, I think. There were 2 others available for download, but I do not just buy any crap. Only 3 of 5 crap.) (Except it’s not crap! I know!)

I was actually going to write a post about my douche bag of an ex-boyfriend. But I’m just not feeling hateful/spiteful enough to give it the justice it deserves. The best is that in my bad mistake of talking to him again after over a year, I gave him the blog address. So he might read it. Which is oodles better than writing about how much of a tool he is in a journal that no one ever sees. That makes my heart happy.

Instead. (I’m all over the fucking place. Deal.) I’m going to write about work. Because I’m like 8 days in and I know you’re all totally wondering how it is going. Because let’s face it. You all heart me so much it’s seeping out your pores. Natch.

Work is good. The end.

I kid. I kid. It’s actually going really well. Today? TODAY? I PROOFREAD! A LOT! SO MUCH SO I CAN’T STOP TYPING IN ALL CAPS! SOMEONE SLAP ME! Whew. Thanks Simba.

Seriously, though. I’m really liking it. I like getting up and going to work. Well as much as a human can like that whole getting up before 10 AM thing. I’m starting to have things to do. And that makes me feel so much better because then I don’t feel like I’m stealing money. I’m proving my worth. And I think they are really appreciating the fact that I rock. I mean I think they figured that from the interviews, but now they are getting in up close. IN YOUR FACE proving my worth!

And I like it because it’s a lot of different things. It’s helping with the sales training next week. It’s working on the marketing calendar and working with all the GMs. It’s proofreading. (Did I mention the proofreading? Oh how I missed you so!) (I think it’s because this one guy is bad with the formatting. Which makes my proofreading heart grow three sizes. And might make me do an unprecedented cartwheel in the hallway.) (I don’t think you realize how much you miss something until you get it back. This goes for everything except ex-boyfriends.)

And the people are great. I’ve never worked for a huge company before. This one, for the privileged who know what company it actually is, is one of the biggest in Chicago. It’s great to see so many people on a daily basis. Who are all really cool. I’m sure all of them aren’t, but the ones I have to deal with on a daily basis are.

Friday is the big Cubs game outing. It should be a lot of fun. Unless I get stuck sitting next to the IT guy. Although then I can use all the acronyms I learned at Slalom that I never knew what they meant. He shall be impressed! EQAC. SQL. PKI. WTF. STFU. (The IT people are at a different facility. Don’t know them yet. Totally rushing to judgement.)

Senor Beavis, being the good friend that he is and knowing my, um, tendency to make an ass of myself with liquor in me (although I didn’t ever walk into a giant ice cream cone, thank you VERY much), is concerned that I’ll drink to much and be that girl. Probably because I’m that girl at every job I ever have. (What? It’s charming.) Niners? Check. (Kirk will vouch for that. If he can remember from all the booze he himself has consumed with me.) Dirt Company? Check. (Although I was younger than anyone by like at least 10 years. But no one else made out with DD. That I know of.) Slalom? Um, check. New job? Check, and even before my first official day.

But I get what he’s saying. Because well, he knows my track record at Cubs games. You all do. And not the impression you want to make in front of work people. Including the VP. Who is not Tom Brokaw. (Read: not a pompous ass.) Because she’s a she. And really laid back. And a huge Cubs fan. We get along great. In 8 days. And she was super impressed with the flat tire thing. Good thing that $145 expense got me a job!

What was I talking about? I was listening to Blake Lewis and daydreaming. What I was going to say before Blake crept into my subconscious was that I’ve always been lucky to work with drinkers. Not necessarily on my level. Because really? Who is. But people who enjoy to go out and enjoy a nice cold adult beverage. Or 10. But no more than 5. I swear there must be some sort of beacon out there that only I can see when I’m looking for jobs. The Booze Signal. It flashes a sign in the shape of a jug with XXX on it. (Like the cartoons? Moonshine? Come on people! I think my brother would be the only one to get that. And he doesn’t read this. Stupid unsupportive brother.) (Kidding!)

I have been at New Job for less than 2 weeks and we’ve already gone out for drinks twice after work. We went out tonight and some girl asked me if I was so excited to work with a “drinking crew” at New Job. And I told her I can always find the lushes, no matter where I go. Just a skill I have. That isn’t resume-listable. Sadly.

Surprisingly I can be that girl who doesn’t start dancing on the bar at company outings, or sings karaoke, or flips off her boss when he’s taking a photo to commemorate said company outing. At least I think I can. We shall see. It has yet to happen.

There is a first for everything.

Category: A Day in the Life of Me, General, Hooch Hilarity, Worky Work | 7 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on May 31, 2007

It’s officially summer. Yes, I know the whole summer solstice and all that crap hasn’t happened. But I’m sitting here in my apartment sweating into a puddle on the floor. Thank God for hardwood floors. I hope the floor doesn’t leak onto the granola-head-pot-smoking residents below me. Probably put out the flame on their lighter mid-hit. Duuuuuudes.

With summer comes street fests (yay!), hot weather (not so yay since I don’t have air conditioning), sun out for longer (yay! Hate coming home in the dark!) and all kinds of bad summer reality shows.

Oh who am I kidding, I watch all kinds of bad reality shows 12 months out of the year. It’s just that in the summer you can blame it on there being nothing else on. All other times of the year, well, I don’t really have much of an excuse. Except me likey.

I am almost 30 years old. I want to know why I still watch some of these shows. Again, who am I kidding? I heart these shows. For the most part. Most of them I heart in the way you can’t turn away from a bad car crash. But still. Here is a sampling:

The Real World

• I think this was like season 43 or something. I mean, I’m like almost 10 years older than some of these babies. Yet? I can’t turn away. I think I pretended I was mature for like two years in the Paris/Philadelphia seasons. And that was only because I hated the Paris season. It was so boring. (Who else was even on it besides Ace and CT? Two people I couldn’t hate anymore.) It was worse than London. Which was actually The Real World because besides that guy’s tongue getting bit off, the only thing to come out of that is that Jacinda is quite the actress these days.
• Closer look at Wikipedia, I somehow missed Paris, watched San Diego and then skipped Phily. Only to pick it back up for Austin. Which when Danny got his face dented? Awesome
• I totally succumb to peer pressure and only continue to watch for water cooler chatter.
• Which is a lie.
• Apparently they are filming the next installment in Australia. Can’t wait!

Flavor of Love – Seasons 1 & 2

• Anyone who didn’t watch? You missed out. Train. Wreck.
• Nothing like sticking a bunch of ghetto chicks in one house and letting them fight over an ugly man with a clock around his neck.
• This show has given us some of reality TV’s best moments. New York. The spitting incident by Pumpkin. And the chick pooping on Flav’s stairs.
• Flavor Flav!
• If you don’t get a clock, your time is up. Fucking trumps “will you accept this rose.”

I Love New York

• Dudes, Flav rejected her twice and she got her own show. Hers wasn’t anywhere near as good as Flavor of Love, but she’s a walking time bomb.
• The best part was the dude that PROPOSED to her in the season finale, totally rescinded his offer when he watched the show on TV. Dissed New York on live TV.
• Um, hello? Awesome!
• She’s currently casting for I Love New York 2. Get your videos in, pimps. And vote for the craziest!

Flavor of Love Girls: Charm School

• How much does VH1 lurve Flav? He has given them 4 hit shows.
• This one brings together all our favorite crazy people from Flavor of Love 1 & 2.And Mo’Nique is supposed to be trying to teach them manners and shit. Bitch, please. We tune in for cat fights. And Pumpkin spitting on people. And Hottie and her batshit crazy self.

Real World/Road Rules Challenges

• All of them. The Duels. The Gauntlets. The Infernos. Always good TV.
• So. Many. Catfights. Thank God for CT and all his ‘roid rages. Although next time CT, let’s last more than a few hours. You make for good TV.
• The only bad thing is that I think the “older” alums are tired of doing these. These Challenges are usually peppered with a lot of people from the most recent seasons of Real World. And really? I don’t ever want to see Colie again. Someone should dent her face.
• And do these people have jobs in real life? My job sure as hell wouldn’t let me leave for a few weeks to go fuck around in the jungles of South Africa. (Wish they would, though.)

King of Cars

• This is higher-end reality TV. It’s on A&E. Arts & Entertainment people. It’s about this crappy-ass rapper who owns a Dodge dealership in Vegas. And if you don’t know, since they mention it in the first 10 minutes of every episode, they are the nation’s top Dodge dealership. Because Chop, the owner/bad rapper, makes his salespeople do competitions and if you lose you have to do weird shit. Like oil wrestle in a baby pool with the sumo wrestler that works in Accounting.
• I’m not kidding.

Big Brother

• THIS is my summer staple. Apparently this summer will be season 8. That’s almost as depressing as watching 16 seasons of The Real World.
• The best thing about this show, besides the crazy people they lock up in the house with no contact to the outside world, is that it’s on 3-4 times a week. And when there is abso-fucking-lutely nothing on TV in the summer, this is a good thing. And an addicting thing. (And I won’t mention that last year I found a site that transcribed the live feeds. So I would read what was going on in the house at every single stupid minute. Yeah, I didn’t do any work last summer, by the way.)
• The worst thing about this show? Julie Chen. Apparently sleeping with the President of CBS gets you posh jobs. For which you have no business doing. Worst. Host. Ever. (Miss Jones, this is not sexist. She really is married to the President of CBS. I assume she sleeps with him.)

And the cherry on the top of all this? The 7 people from Real World: Las Vegas are reuniting! For like 6 weeks! All together again! And Brynn has 2 babies! And who will Trashelle hook up with this time? This is like reality television gold right there, people.

You can also throw into this sad little mix the ones everyone watches – American Idol, Dancing with the Stars, The Bachelor (although if the next one is as mind-numbingly boring as Andy, I will stick my foot through the TV), Laguna Beach, The Hills, America’s Next Top Model, etc. 

There are plenty, plenty more (Kathy Griffin: Life on the D List, anyone? Starts June 5!), but I’m depressing myself with the amount of crap I watch. It’s why I read the paper and watch the news. For the learnin’.

Category: A Dash of the Crazy, All Things TV, General | 5 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on May 30, 2007

I had this awesome mediocre post all set to write and have it just flourish on the page. And I was hoping to laugh hysterically at my witty self. Like the whole Adam Levine cooking me bacon thing. Pure comedy gold right there.

But then I saw some heartbreaking news. On Metromix. Whilst looking for watering holes to get my drink on.

Charles Nelson Reilly died. It’s totally sad. He was a fixture on The Match Game. And while he was my second favoritest panelist behind Richard Dawson, I have always been a big fan. To think that he was pretty much openly gay (never coming out and saying it, but certainly not hiding it) in an era that was even less tolerable than the society we live in today.

He will be sorely missed. And I’m hoping GSN gets off their asses and does a marathon of his best moments. Because there were quite a few that I can think of right off the top of my head. But then again, I’m a tad on the crazy side.

Charles, we’ll blank you.

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That so is going to take some time to get old. At least to me! Colors, bitches! (Hee! I made them maroon and gold for ASU. I rule!)

In other news, I got tired of waiting for Adam Levine and just cooked the damn bacon myself tonight. You know, I never remember why I hate cooking bacon until I’m cooking it. One, it takes forever, what with all the flipping. (And note to self, don’t try to fucking text message during it because you’ll end up with burnt bacon. Stupid arse.) And two, my whole fucking house smells of bacon. I think it’s seeped into the closet. I think I’m either going to get attacked by rabid purse dogs on the way to my car in the morning or hear everyone in the office asking “who has bacon?” all day. Or both.

(Did anyone else think one person could talk this much about bacon? No. Me neither.)

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See how I’m using that for a break? In between asinine thoughts?

Speaking of asinine. I downloaded 3 songs on iTunes. No big deal, right? They were fucking Blake Lewis. His songs he sang. On. The. Show. Cover songs.

For Pete’s sake woman, you already have Shot Through the Heart on your iPod. THE ORIGINAL.

(But seriously? How much does that kid fucking rock? I bet he wouldn’t have blown me off with the bacon cooking. He’s totally my new boyfriend. You know, in Imaginary Land. The admission is relatively low priced. Bring the entire family!)

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I have to be out in the suburbs all week next week for a sales conference. These are the types of things I’m going to be planning in the future. So they are going to throw me right in and let me hit the ground running. Which is good because I learn by doing. I mean, that’s how I got to become such an expert drinker.

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A coyote just jumped through the window looking for bacon. From the smell. The bacon! I can only imagine what the hall smells like.

Better than the nasty-ass incense the people below me use to cover up the pot smell. Hey granola heads below me! You’re not fooling anyone!

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I saw a taxi on the road the other day that was like one of those London taxis. Like this:

And it said on the window “London to O’Hare” but didn’t give a price. Can’t be cheap.

(I actually saw this like 8 months ago and was waiting until I needed filler crap.)

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I’m trying to lose weight. Nothing depresses a gal more than being called gal. No. I meant nothing depresses a gal more than going shopping for clothes and not fitting into your normal size.

To be perfectly honest, I haven’t fit in my “normal” size for over 6 months. But at least I could stretch those old pants around my flabby ass.

So I’m trying to eat better. And I really should work out. Remember that whole running thing I was doing? Well let me pause here to laugh. Heartily. Because remember when I was unemployed and lazy? Key word there being LAZY? And when I never ran? Because there is TV to watch? And sleep to sleep? And how I was supposed to run that 10 mile race this past Saturday? Turns out I paid $40 for a shirt. That says SF 10. Which took me about half a freakin’ day to figure out SF was Soldier Field. NOT San Francisco. Only some jackass in Beaverton, Oregon would think of that.

Anyway, yeah. Eating better. Working out. All going well. Until I made turkey bacon tonight. Key word there being I, as in me, as in NOT Adam Levine. Or even Blake Lewis. Maybe I should play his songs. Do you think that works like the bat signal?

Do you see why I lose focus when it comes to trying to stick to healthy eating?

How much turkey bacon is too much?

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So it’s been over a month since I got the axe from that consulting company. You know the one. Named after a downhill ski race. And I have yet to post for the whole blogosphere to read the entire story. The whole kit and kaboodle. (My mom still stores her jewelry in a Kaboodle. Remember? From back in the day? Feel free to giggle.) Most of you know the gist. But I’m still a little chicken.

My mom, the Kaboodle owner, is convinced that they are going to sabotage me the minute I post something about it. Like old company will call up new company and give them the dish.

First thought? Why would new job even care. I never lied to them. And I think they’d actually quite enjoy it.

Second thought? Seriously Mom. They are a big company. I’m pretty sure they have better things to do with their time.

Right. Yet, this is the company that fired me over my blog. Because I said your new name was stupid and you wasted our time with your useless guess the new name site.

What do ya’ll think? Is it worth the risk? Am I overreacting? (Cause I never do that.) Am I resigned to never discuss it in this forum?

Share your thoughts with everyone in the comments. That includes all you lurkers. I know you’re out there. I’m pretty sure my mom isn’t refreshing the site 120 times a day. She’s good for at least 20, but more than that is just ridiculous. And she has a Kaboodle to organize.

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Category: A Dash of the Crazy, A Day in the Life of Me, General | 16 Comments »
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