A friend of mine received this memo from the company he works for:

Dear Associate:

It has been brought to my attention that there have been questions regarding how to adjust the chairs in our cubicles and offices. There are three types of chairs in our facility. They are as follows:

Parachute - located in the work stations;
Bulldog - located in the offices; and
Sapper - Executive chairs.


Please note that to avoid awkward positions and to provide comfort, it is best to adjust the seat height of your chair to keep your thighs parallel to the floor or sloping slightly downward. Also, keep your feet flat on the floor and never let your legs dangle.

I have attached a document that illustrates the appropriate way to make the necessary adjustments to your chair. Please take a moment to review the page that pertains to your chair, and adjust your chair as needed.

If you have any questions regarding this matter, please let me know.

Thanks.

Last night Craig and I found ourselves in a moment where neither of us were rushing off to do something. We were both home for the night before 9 PM- a first time occurrence since we moved in together.

Drew randomly phoned and, for once, he wasn't drunk and trying to get us to go over to his house and "bring the bevys." He actually called to tell me to go look at the moon.
Craig and I tried to spy the moon from our balcony, but a giant tree blocked it out from us. So we did what any normal person would do and grabbed a cooler of tallboys and brought our chairs and set up camp in the handicap parking space in front of our building and watched the lunar eclipse.

We talked about his relationships, my relationships, the fact he's going to be a box of wine for Halloween- all and all it was good beer, good company, and good conversation.

Man, watching a lunar eclipse is a bit like watching grass grow.

But it was a beautiful night and I'm glad I have beautiful people in my life to share moments like these with.

ANOTHER GENUINELY INSENSITIVE REMARK

Remember Scott Peterson? The guy who murdered his wife and unborn baby and dumped them in the bay?

Yeah, he's hot.

Still guilty and should go to the electric chair, but hot.

IN OTHER NEWS

Chaney said that the war in Iraq is "a success story."

Sure.

We successfully found no nuclear weapons.
We successfully bred a new wave of terrorists.
And we successfully turned the other nations against us.

I hope everyone else's weekend was as wonderful as mine was.

MY BOSS #2

(Recently at work, we have been assigning nicknames to the used vehicles on the lot. We typically (and unorginally) use the color or brand with an adjective. For example a Dodge Ram we had was fondly referred to as The Blue Goose. I was sent to Toyota to trade used vehicles and I brought back a Ford Expedition. When people asked me what I brought back to our store, I said The Blue Behemoth.)

Vic: Jamie, come here.
Jamie: What's up, Vic?
Vic: (angrily) Ford sells over 20,000 Expeditions a year. We own that one for $1,000 less than what it is worth. This is the vehicle that you want to put people in when they are up-side down on their trade. Besides, it seats 7 people.
Jamie: 9 people.
Vic: Whatever.
Jamie: Vic, I didn't say anything about the vehicle, why are you so upset?
Vic: I heard you call it "behemoth" 3 times now.
Jamie: (stifled laughter) Vic, "behemoth" means large.
Vic: I thought it meant average.
Jamie: No, it means large.
Vic: We all know it's big, Jamie.

TRUE STORY

A woman pulls up to our service department in her Optima (mid-size sedan.) Our service manager greets her and notices some damage on the hood of the vehicle. She gets out of her car and proceeds to tell our service manager that she is getting sued because she hit a couple of children with her car. He looked at the hood and saw that the chalk lines outlining the children around the damage on the hood. She said, with a straight face, that she wanted Kia to pay for it because her horn didn't work... and that's why the children got hit.

As sad as the picture is of children laying in the road, screaming from broken bones because of this woman, I laughed so hard I cried.

The first question that comes to mind is how she managed to hit multiple people?
Next, why did she not remove the chalk outline of small bodies from her hood?
Then, since when did the horn disable the brakes or lock the steering column?
Finally, exactly how long ago did she lose her mind?

New shoes, new haircut, and new hair color. La la la, I feel better! AND someone said my ass looked good today. Gonna have me a martini and celebrate.

I've been in a funk the last week and I think I've had a good run of it. The first round of firings occurred today at work and, thankfully, I avoided the gunfire...and the unemployment line. But my blindfold isn't off yet, I bought myself about 2 more weeks until the next round- a month at the max. Anyone wanting to hire an English major? I didn't think so...

I think I might have a knack for this writing thing: anyone wanting to hire a slightly depressed writer? Shocker...

I learned a lot in my fantastic mope. Having my mind cloudy with thoughts, and not wanting to talk about them, left me silent. Needless to say, I did A LOT of listening: it's amazing, I think most people just want to be heard. At one point last week, I found myself on my living room couch watching "Sex and the City" with my neighbor (I refuse to use the word "friend" anymore, and if you know who I'm talking about, you understand). I was watching the show and daydreaming and she kept bringing up her multifarious problems. I quit responding and she kept talking- I couldn't believe it. It was like she didn't even care IF I responded; she just wanted to talk about herself.

After this realization, I noticed that it wasn't just her- everyone just loves to talk about themselves and I wondered if there really is someone at the other end of the cellphone. People ask about the other person without caring about the answer, anxious to return to their problems.

Man. There are a lot of problems out there.

I heard about unemployment, DUIs, moving back in with the parents, classes, girlfriends, fiances, wives, ex-girlfriends, ex-wives, sex, alcoholism, money, work, bosses, small penises...

My head hurts.

I'm getting drunk and going to bed.

McDonald's has my e-mail address. This disturbs me on a level deeper than I imagined.

Ben: In a few minutes we can do an inventory run and make the new addendums.
Jamie: Why the wait?
Ben: (points towards the bathroom) I have to go to my office for a few minutes. People are waiting on me.
Jamie: Ah, you have to drop the kids off at the pool?
Ben: Yeah, and poop.

I've recently encountered a period in which people from my past are contacting me out of the blue. One of whom I last spoke to over 5 years ago. Some are welcome contacts, some are not; some forgave and have been forgiven, some have not.

Part of me wants to scream, "What the fuck?!" at the top of my lungs from the highest and windiest building.

These men are tearing away at my imagination. Much like children whose fathers have left them, I've concocted wild stories about their whereabouts: "He became a physicist and moved to Russia on a top secret mission."

"He became handsome, grew a set, and married a supermodel."

All my stories are very flattering, I assure you. I'm not the kind of person who gets off on: "He's homeless and living in an alley with a strangely long beard."

Maybe it's because I'm not vengeful. Maybe it's because I'm currently under the influence and don't know what is or is not good for me at this particular moment. (Regardless of my inebriation, I do possess impeccable grammar skills.)

Their real stories are much sadder than what I've made up for them. Several are graduated from college and living at home. One still pines for me with the same intensity that he did the one night in my life I've spent with him. One is unemployed, just out of rehab.

They should have just let me be so I could continue with, "He works on Wall Street and has both a car and a driver," not "Rehab was bitchin."

Introspectively, is my life any better? Sure I'm financially independent and don't live in the same city as my parents, live in a lovely apartment with the best roommate I could have wished for BUT I hate my job a little more every hour I spend there; I don't think I have a "true" girlfriend and my dog might hate me.

But, in the end, I'll live... somehow I always do... and I'm confident in that fact. So, in the meantime, I'll just continue thinking you're an astronaut on a space mission making an important discovery... if that's alright with you.

Having a sad day- call me or leave a comment and make me feel better.

In Albany- I've done lost my mind...

No doubting a good night

Rock stars, such as Craig and me, had to get another taste of fame and admiration before we hit the bars.

Friday night at Wild Wings- the bar is packed: a football game on some TVs, a baseball game on some others, and a 10' by 10' wooden stage with a microphone and a karaoke screen.

Craig is the first person to sing. I custom chose his song. A few bars into it the bar explodes in cheers, claps, and whistles. I look to one set of TVs: commercial. I look at the other set: time-out. They're cheering for Craig! Good song choice, Jamie!

During his song I truly understand the bar is full. I don't think I have ever sang in front of a group this large before and I almost psyched myself out.
It's my turn next and I head to the stage. I should point out that I was dressed in a short skirt paired with a "club" shirt. I never dress this trendy and I felt like I didn't even look like me.

I received cheers when I walked to the stage. I picked up my mic and and guy walks to the stage and wishes me good luck. The music starts and I again hear cheers. I look at the tvs: commercials and between play stats. I begin to sing but I hear in the background cat calls playing on the song lyrics (No Doubt - Don't Speak):

I want to be together with you!
I'll make you not speak!
Push this, Darling!

I should have been offended...but I found it hilarious! To Craig's defense, someone did scream "I love you!" when he sang on Tuesday, and it wasn't anyone we knew.

The life of Rock Stars....