A fine art

I consider "bitch" a term of endearment. But I may be alone in this thinking.

I've mentioned before that I work with some great people on a very small staff at the part-time writing gig. One of them is very mild mannered but has a tart sense of humor that she lets fly on the sly when you least expect. Of course, I adore her.

A few weeks ago, she challenged me to find some odd tidbit on the Internet and I said something along the lines of, "I told you, my bitch!"

Stunned silence. I immediately apologized. Luckily she does have a great sense of humor and claimed she was honored by the nickname.


This week on my desk, there magically appeared a slender tome with the bold titles, How to Be a Bitch with Style.

Nice.

This sweet little number promises to teach you to climb The Twelve Steps to BITCHHood and use your thoughts to control your life.

How does one get control, I wondered? Luckily there were pre-control questions.

(1) Are you in total control of your Self? Why is self capitalized here? Am I now a god-like creature? And shouldn't that be yourself all-one-word?

(2) Are you responsible for what happens to you or is someone always doing it to you? God, I wish someone was doing it to me.

(3) Are you ready to lead a more healthy, happy, prosperous and fulfilling life? Not really, I much prefer mediocrity and enduring poverty.

(4) Do you really know who you are and why you are here? I always assumed my special purpose was low-brow humor. Could that be wrong?

(5) Are you ready to fulfill your devine purpose for being on this planet? Devine? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you think she meant devein, like when you devein a shrimp? Devine is actually a city in Texas: population 3, 298. No shit, I looked it up.

After answering those five short questions, I'm pretty convinced I don't need her help. I'm as big of a bitch as they come!

Add "Award-winning"

A few weeks ago, I pulled together an entry for our local IABC chapter's Bronze Quill awards. We've done a pretty generous overhaul of our magazine, including driving content to be more relevant and a beautiful remake of the design -- including original artwork from one of my co-workers.

I submitted the entry with some hope of recognition, but more for the exposure for when we submit our Web site redesign next year. Kind of a "get your name out there" entry.

Today we received some news...

Congratulations! Your company will be honored with an award at the 2008 Bronze Quill Awards Gala honoring excellence in business communication.

Well I'll be damned! We are just that good!

One hundred plus ways to be a bitch

I'm still working on my extreme commuting story for the part-time writing gig, and it is depressing. Not only are we pissed off for spending so much time in the car, our asses are getting bigger as well.

Longer commutes are also linked to obesity. Researchers at Georgia Tech have found that every 30 minutes spent driving increases your risk of becoming obese by 3 percent.

Oh Good God.

I'm also finishing (just starting) our entry for the Bronze Quill awards for our magazine. Hmmm, too much like work.

So I flip around on my desk to see what my editor, MK, has left recently for my enjoyment. Thankfully, she never fails to disappoint. Today on my desk is a submitted article for the magazine titled, "One Hundred Plus Things Every Woman Should Know."

This writer has had a bad time with men. Some of her 100+ tips -- with my thoughtful edits -- include:

1. Money and sex are the keys to a good marriage. Rich women are always smiling because they have money. And the rest of us smile because we just had a nooner.
2. Plan your marriage as if you're going to get divorced. Or just stay single and screw around.
3. Stupid children make you look stupid. Wow, what does that say about your mom?
4. It's important to teach your daughters not to sleep around. It is 2008, and guys still talk. As opposed to banging rocks together like they did in the '90s.
5. Judge a guy by what he wants you to have. If he says "Mercedes for everyone," then you're in luck.
6. Always get the largest diamond you can -- you might need to sell it. To finance your cocaine habit.
7. Only wear open-toed shoes with a cocktail dress if you are in your 20s. I'm fucked. I'm wearing a pair today with pants.
8. Do not wear too much make-up, you will look like a two-bit whore. Again, not my day!
9. You really can never be too thin or too rich. Wasn't that Ivana Trump's line?

For the rest, you'll have to find your own copy. Or, if you're in a pinch, you can dig mine out of the trash. I don't think we'll be publishing that gem anytime soon!

Twisted and tangled

Overheard at the part-time writing gig, supposedly while I was writing the latest edition of my fabulously popular newsletter. I specialize in sarcasm, in case you didn't pick up on it right there.

Me: Listen to this, according to Sleep to Be Sexy, Smart and Slim (the latest addition to 'Today on my desk') the author recommends you sleep naked. She says, "It's easier to adjust your comfort zone with the sheets and blankets you can pull up or thorw off rather than a long nightgown or a pair of fleece pajamas. The idea is to make the adjustment in a way that rouses you from sleep the least."

I could never do that. I just get too cold!

Bodiless voice from the next cube, who happens to be our IT guy: But it's true! It's much easier to throw on covers or kick them off.

Me, catching the eye of my editor MK, who looks horrified: But what about stickage? I hate when you spoon naked and your skin sticks.

IT guy: Get a thin cotten sheet and slide it between, you can still spoon but you won't stick.

Me: Well, it seems like (IT guy) likes to sleep NAAAKEEED!

IT guy: Now wait, that's an assumption.

Me: Are you kidding me? You just gave a detailed explaination about why someone should sleep naked and how, it is a good assumption.

IT guy: But how can you know if it's really true or not?

MK: I'm just going to go hide in the bathroom now .... Call me when it's time for lunch.

Please don't touch the dickie

My co-workers like to leave interesting tidbits on my desk. MK has a knack for picking out just the right thing to make me giggle when I read it.

This week, she slide around the cubicle wall and dropped a sweet little press release on my desk. This particular release is from a company in Texas that makes the perenial fashion statement, Dickies. So passionate is their prose, so vibrant and fresh that I just had to laugh out loud with joy when I read it.

It has been said that beatuy is only skin deep, but demonstrating the good looks of the inexpensive Charades Dickie shows good, even outstanding economic judgement and proves that you are more than a pretty face ...

Thank God! And here I was just thinking the boys liked me for my big breasts. But why stop there, why not make everyone a Dickie fiend? I know I am!

Dickies are great gifts for men... Many men are glad to abandon the buttoned shirt and tie and opt for the Turtleneck or Mock Turtleneck under a sport coat or sweater for that casual, or that "after 5 spiffy" look...

It's true that a well-placed dickie can make all the difference in your life.

As a gold ring enhances the beauty of a diamond, the same is true when a Charades Dickie surrounds your face with your favorite and most flattering color...

I love my job.

Accusations

Today on my desk, a copy of Anger: Let the Tiger Out, But Keep it On a Leash. I wonder if my co-workers worry that I'm the type of person who will go postal.

According to Anger, which is a horrible little book and should never have been published (even now, I can feel my anger rising ..)

"Employees cannot express their anger in ways that would enable them to work through it and move beyond it. (Workplace anger that cannot be expressed is a serious concern because it can turn into aggression that can lead to tragedy and leave co-workers traumatized. There have been incidents of people who have acted out their anger by returning to their former place of employment to shoot their former boss or co-workers.)"

Today I was also accused of stuffing my bra.

Sinful seminars

My friend Mia gave me a copy of a fabulous article from the recent New Yorker Magazine, in which the author beautifully describes his love affair with seminars.

Yes, I said his love affair with SEMINARS.

In fact, I have never seen such a sexually charged description of seminars in my life. Take, for example, my favorite passage from this piece:

The SYMPOSIUM is the whisper, the roar, the battlements mounted, the thousand arrows raining down. Invade her castle keep, drag her wriggling into the sun, and still she curses you, spits at you, her topaz eyes ablaze. You force her down to a cobbler’s bench, but ho, a hidden blade! She thrusts, and you are tumbling, flailing, tasting naught but your own reckless blood.

The whole columen is expertly written and just downright fun. But what a great excercise in creativity: To write a piece that describes something mundane and make it sound wonderful. I don't think there are many writers out there who can do it and not sound trite. So I'm thankful for the few who do it so well.

I just pray to the literary gods that his next piece is on brainstorming.

My thighs quiver and my stomach flips in anticipation!!

The next segment of "today on my desk"

A few weeks ago, I had an unfortunate event occur at my part-time writing gig.

Wait, let me back up.

I don't like public restrooms. And I define public as any restroom that is not safely ensconced in my house. I have an issue. I don't have time to go into it further because I need to LIVE my life!

Back to my unfortunate event. I went to the restroom and basically clogged up the toilet, which then clogged up the pipes which caused water to rise up from the drain in the floor and ohgoodgodImayvoimitbecausethatispoowater!

I wasn't doing anything unusual in the restroom, but still, the worry lines marched up between my eyebrows. I had to TELL another person that I (Michele) had clogged up the toilet. Of course, the person I had to tell was a man, sitting right outside the restroom and, unfortunately, the son of the owner of the company.

My whole sordid "public restroom issue" was brought into light. Fine! I've lived with it this long, I can take the verbal abuse and eye rolling. Although, my friend JT would run into the bathroom after me and giggle like crazy after she found out about my issue. THAT was a little hard to take.

Still, ever since that day, I swear I catch a glimpse of the "what a weirdo look" exchanged by co-workers.

Today on my desk was a copy of Weirdos in the Workplace: The New Normal.

Niiiiccceee ...

Impressions

I know I have a strong-willed personality. And I can be ribald at times. ... Ok, most of the time. I like to get what I want, if I don't get it, I will pursue it with determined zeal until I do.

I think my co-workers are starting to figure me out. On my desk is one copy of The Corporate Dominatrix: Six Roles to Play to Get Your Way at Work. There is also a copy of Rogues, Writers and Whores: Dining with the Rich and Infamous.

I'd say that's a good overview!

Jargon to the left and jargon to the right

When I worked at the yet-to-be-named large tax preparation firm, I was overwhelmed by corporate jargon. As a writer -- and lover of good literature -- corporate jargon is the antichrist. In fact, I hated it so badly, you might say I became one of the winged furies who dealt punishment on any article containing it.

But the problem was that the management team loved it. I mean LOVED to use corporate jargon. As if their message suddenly gained startling clarity if the words drill down, circle back and end-to-end service were used. And it was I, the stupid writer, who was in the wrong everytime I suggested that it could be written simpler, clearer. Silly me.

Then today .... (insert music from the heavens) ... a book fell on my desk that supports my theories that corporate jargon is actually THE antichrist. Author Gretchn Hirsch writes, "To avoid descent into a hell of gobbledygook, it would be wise to expunge trendy, inflated expressions from your vocabulary."

Then she goes on to list pages of buzzwords that are considered crap. Bandwidth, action items, best practices, deliverables, escalate, facilitate, messaging, mission critical ... all my old friends lined up like the usual suspects.

I felt great relief while I read this little slip of a book. I was not the rebel trying to control language and do things my way as I had been portrayed in the past. But rather a knight of the noble word table, dedicated to the protection and use of a beautiful yet intricate language. My quest was bold and honorable.

Alright, that might be stretching it a bit, but it did bring a small self-satisfied smile to my face. In fact I made copies, included some appropriate messaging and circled back with my former co-workers so they could also enjoy the pithy fruits of my spoils.

I love being a writer!

Don't say that!

I am by nature, drawn to the weird and slightly absurd. I used to think that weird things just happen to me, or while I'm around. Seriously, how many purple-haired mothers are groped by old women? Probably not many.

As I got older, I realized that people are generally off their damn rockers and it's just my luck to be observant and chronicle those episoides.

For example, I have this great little part-time writing gig with a former employer. They have a small staff and they have busted their tails to put together a national conference for their members -- which is happening this weekend. Before they left, a nice little e-mail went around with some helpful tips on how to chat with people in the elevator, outside the conference rooms, in the hotel lobby bar while drunk, whatever. I must say that I laughed out loud when I read it.

One of the first tips was having a list of openers:

• Good morning!
• Good afternoon!
• Hello!
• Hi!

Are you shitting me?

This organization has more books about networking on the shelves than the public library. I'm pretty sure these ladies know how to open a conversation.

Part of me belives (desperately) that this was a fun joke to ease anxiety over the meeting. So, in the spirit of humor and fun, I created my own Top 10 list of things you should NEVER say at a networking or business event.

1. My God, your tits are huge! Are those real? (said while poking with finger)
2. Hmmm, you look so familiar. Weren't you in that movie, "I Love Lesbians" with Jenna Jameson? Could you get me her autograph!
3. My God, I am so horny. Do you think that bartender is cute?
4. Oh yeah, I know your husband. He's got some skilz... know what I'm sayin' (wink, wink, nudge, nudge)
5. Giiiirrrrlll, two words TIC ... TAC
6. Awww Gawwd, do you smell that? Somebody totally ripped one. Was it you?
7. My panties are riding up my crotch. Stand in front of me while I pull them out, will ya?
8. Your boss is such a skag. Look at her outfit. She looks like a hooker! Could her boobs come any further out of that shirt!?
9. I think I'll get a tattoo while I'm in town. I want a devil, breathing fire that spells out DEATH METAL. Doesn't that sound wicked!?
10. (And my personal favorite) Do I smell like B.O.? Smell my pits, would you?

One of my all-time favorite movies lines is from Steel Magnolias, when Olympia Dukakis says, "If you can't say anything nice, come sit by me."

I'd say it's my motto.