Tuesday, July 22, 2008

It never ever ends...

An email from my loser ass coworker, sent to me, my boss, and the HR Director.

Please be sure to find a place to use the date stamp in an area that does not obscure information on the form OR prevent the clear completion of the form which will be send to other agencies or departments. If a suitable space cannot be located on the front of the document - please turn the document over and stamp it on the back of the form. (In the current example, the date stamp was placed right over a section that must be signed by [the third party provider]. A clear spot was available at the top of the form. Or the back would have been preferable to putting it right in the signatory section.)

Thank you.

The biggest...boss?

This Rick Ross thing....I love me some Rick Ross. But this nonsense he's gotten himself into now--ridiculous. So what you were a CO? You could have played that into something like, EFF the cops, I used to piss in their lockers or something--but no. He wants to LIE about it. Everybody needs a job at some point in time--why LIE about the one you had? Get it how you live!! Every woman loves a man in uniform, and every dude in lock up wants a cool ass nigga on the inside. You straight played yourself on this one, Rick!!! It's bad enough you use someone else's name...my boo Lavelle did the same thing...but still. He picked a fictional character. You picked a hard core criminal. At least Lavelle was a formerly homeless guy that picked David Banner--a dude that turned into the Hulk. You were a CO that picked Rick Ross--a nigga that sold alot of drugs. You're like that loser from high school that becomes a sheriff to torture people cause you got picked on. You aint gotta lie to kick it, dude.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008


I had a partial staff meeting this morning. I missed the first 30 minutes of it due to other work, but when I got there, they were actively engaged in conversation about nothing that pertained to me. Lucky for me, I had taken along my notepad to do a packing list for my trip to NY. So, as they talked, I mentally matched up my tops, bottoms, and shoes for the weekend. We got to a part where I actually needed to listen--we discussed the importance of capturing someones race in our recruitment system, for purposes of importance. Since I'm no longer the sole black person in the department it really shouldn't bother me, but whenever anyone mentions "race" in my workplace, I get extremely uncomfortable--I know my director and the things she says. As she was telling us about the need to guess someones race if they don't disclose it, she picked me as her example. I sat on the edge of my seat, waiting to hear what nonsense would come out of her mouth.

Director-"Let's say Lisa comes in and I am interviewing her..."

Me-(thinking) shit...

Director-"She doesn't disclose her race on her application, so I have to guess..."

Me-(thinking, again) shit shit shit shit...

Director-"I may think she is Native American, Indian, or Black. Her hair is always different, so she might come in with long wavy hair one day and she looks Indian, but have curly hair the next, so I really don't know!"

Me-(I chuckled, thinking) Dammit I wish Kevin was here.

Director-"If I didn't know she was Black already, I may not know just by seeing her, so you have to ask. The lady that cleans my nails-I thought she was Hispanic. The other day though, her sister and daughter came in and looked nothing like her. So, I asked her what her background was. I found out she's half Hispanic and half black--I guess she got her mom's coloring and her sister got her dad's".

Me-(thoroughly confused at this point)- This B is crazy. I've never even seen a Hispanic doing nails. I bet she's lying.

That was mild, compared to what I thought would happen. This is the same person that questioned whether Black people's heads were shaped differently than White people's--considering Black people look so much better in wigs....

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

About to lose it...sorry it's so long-but it has pictures!!

This is the hallway leading to me and my boss' desks, and my desk. The counter top you see is my boss' desk. If you make a sharp left at the opening, that's where I sit. Follow along.

I received this email from my director the other day:

From: The Director
Sent: Thursday, July 03, 2008 10:31 AM
To: Her 3 cronies (C's) and the other peons (P's) in HR

Please be sure to let P1 (my boss), Lisa, P2 or P3 know when you are leaving your office for an extended period --- lunch, meetings, etc. This will enable them to respond appropriately if someone calls or comes by to see you. They will also be sure to check with each other so that there is someone watching out for employees coming into HR. GOOD EMPLOYEE RELATIONS.

On rare occasions they may also be out together but either C1 or I should be alerted so we will listen out for people coming in.


The Director

If someone comes in and walks past my friggin "nurses station" of a cubicle, am I supposed to act like one of the jump out boys--"Where ya goin?" "Who ya hear to see?" "Ya need help?" You can see me before I see you, you see my name on the side of my cube...surely you can ask if you need help. If you want me to watch for employees coming into HR, sit me by the door, give me a taser, and call me security. Otherwise, don't expect me to play the role. You can speak to someone just like I can. Just cause you have a door doesn't mean people are supposed to seek me out when they need something.

Then today, I noticed that one of the cronies emailed my boss about her leaving to go somewhere and not having anyone to tell because my boss wasn't here, and "Lisa was...." (I couldn't read past that point without actually opening the email). I was a little hot behind that, but whatever, I still don't know what it said. THEEEN--the director left to do some things, and told me where she was. About an hour later, someone else came by and asked me where the director was. I knew the answer, but when I tried to tell them my mind went blank. I thought to myself, I should have written it down. Then I thought again--HELL NO---what do I look like?!? Her personal assistant?!? I'm not writing down a MFing thing. I went so far as to pull out my job description just to be sure--and no--that shit is so not my job.

So, I went onto the net, did some research, and emailed my boss the message below:

Could I suggest a magnetic dry erase board similar to this? Far be it for me to come across as rebellious-BUT-I really don't think we should have to be responsible for knowing the whereabouts of 10+ adults. Someone came by and asked me where Maryann was, and although she told me when she left, she told me like, 3 or 4 things she was doing, and it took me a second to remember and repeat it. If we had a board like this right outside of P4's old cubicle (a nice central area), people could update their own in or out of the office statuses, and leave remarks if they chose to--as long as someone can see that they are in or out of the office. This would also be good for people like us that occasionally take some lunch time at our desks and have no door to close. Thank you!!!

That's not insubordination, is it? I have a Masters Degree in Human Resources...why am I "Top Flight" of my department??!?! Yo...if I wanted to be a criminal justice major, I would have just put in my two years at J. Sarge and applied at Wackenhut...WTF?!?!?

Edited to add--

OMG--This is like a bad nickname in school that just sticks!! Now everyone is coming up to me and telling me where they are going. My reaction is always the same--I kinda squint my eyes and shake my head like, "And you're telling me because???....", and then I remember. With sad, sad eyes, I just say ok and look down at my desk in disgust...

Monday, July 7, 2008


Why DO black people enjoy watermelon so much? I had some today at my desk (in tupperware bowl, eaten with a fork), and as I got to the bottom of the container, I realized I might want more. When I finished it, I was kinda pissed--I really did want more watermelon! So, I went on with my morning, and when I walked past the bulletin board with today's cafeteria menu on it, I saw that they were serving watermelon. Did I go and get any? Of course not. I have some at home that's free. Even still--I imagine it wouldn't be as sweet and refreshing as mine. Mine comes from a black home, not a Greek owned office building cafeteria. No, it wasn't grown at my house (although my daddy does grow them), but I know that my mom, a (albeit light skinned) black woman, knows how to pick a good watermelon. Yossi--I'm not so sure if he knows what a good watermelon looks like or not. Oh well. Just thought I would share. At least I still have this Granny Smith apple. Aren't they just delicious?

Thursday, July 3, 2008

I don't get it...

Again, no follow through...couldn't even give up this blog. But anyway--


Kevin sent me this story about a 70 year old woman that just had twins (with huge pampers--check out the pic!!).

Upon reading the article, a few lines in particular jumped out at me:

Her husband, Charan Singh Panwar, 77, mortgaged his land, sold his buffalos, spent his life savings and took out a credit card loan to finance the treatment.

“At last we have a son and heir,” he said. “We prayed to God, went to saints and visited religious places to pray for an heir.

“We kept no stone unturned and God has rewarded us. The treatment cost me a fortune but the birth of a son makes it all worthwhile. I can die a happy man and a proud father.”

Ok, so you now have an heir...and have NOTHING to leave him.

You are gonna live what's left of your life in debt, with no income, and a toddler to drive you closer and closer to your grave. You asked God for this? Maybe its a cultural difference--here, we don't have kids so that we can leave things to them--we have them so they can give to us (extra tax money, gov't assistance, street credibility-you know, whatever floats your boat). Maybe I have to get older and amass some riches to understand this...or just turn Indian.

Can someone can enlighten me?

Kinda weird...

I was at the microwave heating up my lunch, and I noticed a box of plastic cutlery. In it, there were 360 pieces--forks, knives, and spoons. Ideally, there would be 120 of each piece, right? Instead, there were 180 forks, 120 knives, and 60 spoons. This struck me as odd. If I wanted a box of plastic cutlery with 360 pieces--why wouldn't I want an equal amount of everything--particularly forks and knives, because if you are spearing something with a fork, you probably needed a knife to cut it. So, I thought and thought, and came up with one thing--clever marketing. You buy the box of 360--but then have to buy extra boxes to supplement the knives and spoons. That's a cool idea--but just wouldn't work for some people. You pull that nonsense with me, and we're either gonna have to share knives, or learn how to cut symmetrically with our forks and spoons. I bet they didn't count on that. Must have been a non-black person that came up with that ridiculous concept....more forks...whatever.

Just thought I would share.

My first official post

DAMMMMMMMIT. I just wrote the greatest blog, there was an error, and it wasn't posted.

Everyone knows I hate failure, and have no follow through.

Eff this blog nonsense.


Welcome to my blog!! My BFF suggested that I start keeping one, because my life tends to be on the comical side. I really do think I'm God's favorite-just because he tries his darndest to keep me entertained. I really don't think other people see or experience the things that I do on a daily basis--so this is just my place to share those random happenings. And oh yeah--and share the lessons I learn from those things as well. I hope you enjoy my life as it happens.