well, you're in the wrong place.

Here’s to hoping you have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

And here’s to hoping that one of these will be underneath my tree next year.

Back when I was still employed, it was one of my duties to go through the pile of mail that arrived in the office. It was also one of my duties to open strange packages (although to me that seems kind of ass-backwards. I mean, if there was anthrax or a bomb and I died, my bosses would have been screwed because I know where the files and office supplies are and they don’t).

For some reason, our mailroom clerk would forward everything addressed to Paris Hilton to my office.

This was not the first piece of mail we received for Miss Hilton. This was, however, the first time I’d ever seen her with the title of “Lady”.

Here’s a closer look at the addressee’s info:


All I could think of when I saw this was, “Since when did she receive a knighthood?”

True, I do not have her potential wealth. I refrain from camcorders during intimate moments with men. I’m not blond, I’m not skinny, and am only very distantly related to a large company (which produces alcohol, something Paris might envy me for if she knew). But I sure as hell know that she cannot outrank me with that title.

If this did prove to be true, then I’d have to go ahead with my half-hearted idea of obtaining Japanese citizenship.

Parting words: I did not open up this envelope. The contents sounded crunchy, and may have been food items, drugs, or cheap anthrax. Not worth dying for at work.

I shop so often at Trader Joe’s nowadays that I’m always bewildered at what I find at regular grocery stores. For example, this fine Spam item:

In case you didn’t catch it, this Spam comes with REAL HORMEL BACON.



At $2.50 a pop as their every day price, you bet it’s a steal. I sincerely hope that the good people of Hawai’i can take advantage of this price at Safeway, otherwise I will gladly ship over crates.

Right next to the Spam were different bottles of Kraft-brand bottled cheese. This flavor in particular cracked me up:



I’m guessing this is supposed to go with a tall bottle of this:

As I mentioned about an hour ago on Facebook and Twitter, I am now unemployed.

The whole situation is still surreal, because my last day is technically tomorrow and I was informed of my termination about half an hour before I went home.

I think it was the abruptness of the timing that made me cry in front of the GM and the HR Director.

They kept apologizing, but I’m not mad at them. I knew it could be coming soon but I thought I’d get a two week notice.

The positives of the situation:
1. Although my last day is Friday, I do not have to go in to the office.
2. I can sleep in on a weekday and it’s not because it’s a holiday or due to illness.
3. I can go to the gym in the morning again.
4. I can wear jeans all day.
5. I was not fired for being incompetent, but laid off due to a crappy economy.
6. I do not have to worry about buying new suits for a while.

There is a position available in Finance, but I do not care for the department heads at all. My dad pointed out that it would be a source of income, but my last venture into the world of Accounting left me incredibly stressed out and dreading the next day. I know my level of tolerance and could not fake it for the $5 less an hour I would be making.

I know a lot of you have responded, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. :) Tonight is my evening I’m giving myself to grieve. After that it will be all about adapting to my new situation.

P.S. If you know of anyone that needs an assistant/AR clerk/retail salesperson, could you drop my name?

Whoops. This writing after the holidays deal is hard to remember. It’s especially hard when you’ve got two cats vying for your attention (one sweetly, the other not so much). Which is why this post is a little bit late.

As mentioned, I’ve got a cat-sitting gig this weekend. The lovely Gina Yates is out of town for the Thanksgiving Holidays and needed someone to be a dummy mom. I volunteered and she accepted!

I just had a conversation with the not-as-nice kitty. It went something like this:
Me (looking for Clawdio): Clawdio?
Ariel (Demon Spawn): Meow.
Me: Hi Ariel. Have you seen Clawdio?
Ariel: Meow.
Me: Silly kitty, you’re not Clawdio, you’re Ariel.
Ariel: Meow.
Me: Ariel.
Ariel: MEOW.
Me: Fine. Demon Spawn.
Ariel: smug look and silence

I had conversations with my dogs, but none ever so sarcastic.

We’re getting along well. The first night the cats kept to themselves, but now they’re coming out to play, even to the point where I can’t send out texts or write on my blog. If you don’t hear anything from me in the next 24 hours, tell Gina to look for me as soon as she gets back home.