Life's little irritations

When I'm not living the glamorous life I was intended for (still working on that), I'm at my desk job, where I am a managing editor. Though I really do like my job, and I can't complain about my co-workers, I do have some gripes:

1. When you are done eating your yogurt, scrape the bottom no more than 2-3 times. Scraping the plastic bottom for 2-3 minutes is annoying, and more importantly, pointless, unless you want to go ahead and stick your tongue in the container. Give it up. The yogurt is gone.

2. Your cubicle is not self-contained. If you pass gas, people can smell it.

3. Speakerphone. Unless you have an office, pick up the darn thing like everyone else.

4. Your cubicle is not home. Thusly, please rid your area of candles and plants that creep into others' areas.

5. You do not need to listen to music out loud. It's called an iPod. Or headphones. Use them. Love them.

Thank you for allowing me to air my grievances.

Anyone else have any peeves?

ISO kindred spirits,
moi.

The Bachelor: Dignity Calling

So the official name of this season's Bachelor is "London Calling," but I think my title is much more appropriate. But this is not going to be another post that rants and raves against how pathetic it is that 25 moderately intelligent women are throwing themselves at one man. Nor will I marvel at the high possibility that at least one woman will contract oral herpes this season, since through kissing the Bachelor, she's likely kissing about 14 other women.

That's been done.

My sweet, intelligent husband made a remark that I think had great insight. Maybe I realized it all along, but I hadn't verbalized it.

Him: You know, men aren't watching this show (except briefly while passing through to the kitchen). The reason why this show is popular is because of women.

What he went on to explain was that by watching those 25 women throw themselves at the guy and make out, women can feel better abut themselves.

Which, at least, holds true for me. Here is where I should feel bad, but I'll be honest:

- I love remarking how ugly those women are, even if they actually aren't. All of a sudden, I'm Klum-ing it like I'm critiquing models on Project Runway. Relatively attractive blondes become heinous drag queens.

- I love to criticize how loose their morals are.

- I love to prove how dumb they all are. So what if some of them own their own businesses?

You see, by doing this, I can feel better about myself. Because, in the end, I kind of feel like anything they are is diminished by the fact that they are appearing on the Bachelor. But I'm watching it. What does that say about me?

Schadenfreude

Schadenfreude is a German word meaning 'pleasure taken from someone else's misfortune'.

I'm a nice, Catholic girl. At least, I think so, though by the very nature of my self-imposed religious guilt, that makes me a sinner. Though I digress.

So I guess it's a little sick that the best thing that happened today was watching someone get caught in a revolving door. I laughed. I shouldn't have, but it was darn, darn funny.

all the news that's fit to view

This was the news on Monday: vaccines linked to autism, is the democrats' bickering ruining their chances, foreclosures have hit an all-time high, and oil has topped $100 a barrel.

This was the news today: vaccines linked to autism, is the democrats' bickering ruining their chances, foreclosures have hit an all-time high, and oil has topped $100 a barrel.

Oh, and are we heading for/already in a recession? That was also brand-new news.

Come on, guys.