You Know the Drill
Okay kids, this is it. I'm leaving work in about 2 hours so I can leave for Turkey in about 6 hours. My BIL is driving down to my place, getting here around 1:30ish. We'll cab it to the airport together (have I mentioned how much I LOVE living close to a major airport?) and meet dad there.
The plan is a few days in Istanbul, then a day in Pamukkale (Pa-mook-a-lay - it's fun to say), then on to Selcuk/Ephesus. From there, we go to Izmir, Ankara, and Konya. After that, we go back to Istanbul for a day/night and fly out early the morning of the 11th.
You can tell I didn't plan this trip, since there's an actual itiniarary this time around!
I'll check in when I can, but ya'll behave yourselves and play nice. I'll come back with pictures and stories for those who have been good little kidlets.
UGH
Ever 'meet' someone online - hell, maybe even a blogger - and you IM and get to know the person, and pretty soon you're bored out of your mind, and they keep IM'ng and IM'ng and emailing and you're sitting there wishing they would finish their fucking thought and you're chanting to yourself "god you're dull god you're dull god you're dull" over and over again and they keep interrupting what you're trying to do with their god-awful IMs?
Leave me the fuck alone already!!!
Someone mentioned to me that I've been quiet lately. I have been, for good reason. I've been biting my tongue a lot lately, both literally and figuratively. I've been feeling really mean lately and have had to restrain myself from calling numerous people out on their stupid, unthinking, asinine behavior. Be stupid if you want, we all are (reference the last post for my own example). But jesus, folks, try to limit the unnecessary public stupidness.
During lunch with R last week, he told me a little story. He was at a gas station once, waiting to pay for his purchase, while the cashier used the work phone for what was very obviously a personal call. R waited a few minutes, in plain sight of the cashier, then reached over, hung the phone up, called the cashier out on his crappy customer service, and left.
I would never do that. I would
want to do that, but instead, I'd be passive-aggressive: tapping my fingers, sighing loudly, shooting poisonous looks at the cashier. I may finally say something rude, but not to the extent that R did.
It's the same type of situation now. While some people may (rightfully) call others out on their STUPID, JACKASS behavior, I will sit and seethe silently. I will curse you upside and down, but you'll never hear a word of it.
I would like to change that part of me. I would like to stand up for myself during times of others rude, incomprehensible behavior. Doesn't mean I have to be a bitch about it, but if it happens, it won't be the worst thing ever.
Hallelujah
This is the first Thanksgiving in FOUR years that I haven't had homework to do (or feel guilty about not doing).
Thanks be!
Humble Pie
Without fail, as soon as you get comfortable in a space and start feeling secure and capable, something comes along to knock you down a peg or two.
Luckily, my faux pas was insignificant and impacts only me, but I had to go to someone I find very incompetent for help. It's the embarrassment more than the error.
Still, a good lesson to remember.
More Shop Talk
Subtitled: An Intro to KtP's Psyche
There's a reason I called myself a loser in the last post and then proceeded to say things are going well for me at work.
I'm a little embarrassed to be so interested in doing well at work.* Yes, my job pays my bills and without it I'd be oh-so-screwed. Yes, there are other jobs. However, this one gives me challenging and interesting work, new opportunities, ample pay, and damn good benefits. I'm kind of intent on keeping it.
None of that's unusual, I don't think. But I do find it unusual for someone my age to be this vested in a job.
Maybe I've just lucked out; while a select few of my friends have the same type of job (type referring to the four items mentioned above), there are quite a few more who have shit jobs in every sense of the word. I had a shit job before this, and while I tried to do well there, I also didn't give a shit or seek out opportunities as much as I do in my current role. I just didn't give a damn about the prior company, employees, or business, and I felt that feeling was returned to me. Which came first? Not sure it matters.
Yes, climbing the ladder involves political game-playing. I don't know that I'm any good at playing that game, but I do acknowledge it exists and would be the first to admit that it's helped get me to my current rung. Since I already have to play the game, to a degree, why not continue?
And in a somewhat (un)related note, BBB fucked up today. BIG time. He made a really, really, REALLY stupid mistake. STUPID mistake. BIG mistake. It led to a very unhappy business person, and though the fix was pushed through so the impact will only be for 24hours, it still was an unhappy time today.
Though, I suppose the plus side is that BBB will never make that stupid mistake again.
*This is different than doing a good job at work. That I do too, but the initial statement is about 'doing well' as in 'moving up.'
I'm a Loser, Baby
Proof:
1. Last month, my graduate school had a Q&A with Jack Welch, former CEO of GE. He was promoting his new book, Winning, and was travelling to business schools across the country to plug it.
Well, I wasn't able to go to that because I lost the lottery, but I did take time out of the workday this Tuesday to go watch the taping of it.
Wow. Jack seems like such an interesting guy. He got very passionate about a few answers, has a sense of humor, and appeared very candid. I really enjoyed seeing the tape, and
2. I ran to the library that night to check out the book. All copies were checked out, so I reserved the first available.
3. I got one of those 'copy the email, answer the questions, and send to your friends get-to-know-me' emails tonight. Question #7 asked what book you were reading. The gf who sent it to me asked if Glamour counted. I, of course, am reading 'Cult of Power,' about sexual discrimination in corporate America.
4. I was 'nominated' (what that exactly means, I'm not sure) to take part in a new program at work. The program is about developing high-potential employees, cross-training them, possible business travel, and other opportunities. The program is only open to 50 people. I'm strangely excited. I still have to apply and get accepted, but I'm intrigued.
Life as a Corporate Whore
The title of the blog may be 'Corporate Peon,' but I sold myself to the man (and he is an aging white man at that) years ago. And you know what? I like my shiny new car. I like my pretty new shoes. I like my new red couches and all the little microfibers that make them up. I like being able to travel to random countries 'just because.' Right now, I have no problems with my deal with the devil, for he's been a benevolent owner of my soul.
Life in CubeLand is going fairly well these days. The new job is familiar now and - though still slower than I'd like - still providing me chances to learn. I have my fingers in multiple pots, which is how I like it. Even when I was doing project management from the system side, I still had an idea of what other people were working on and of what projects were happening around me. Most teams, you'd think, have this global knowledge - awareness of what the guy across the aisle from you is working on - but because project management in our shop is so...I don't know the word...focused? streamlined? - there's not a lot of that outside awareness going on. I, however, am usually one who bosses share info with, not necessarily about coworkers, but about projects or battles taking place. Then, too, I have a few contacts who keep me posted.
Speaking of contacts, coworker/friend E is leaving her current role. I have mixed feelings about that. She's good in her role, and helps me quite a bit, both in learning my new role and in putting my name out there for future opportunities, but on the other hand, she can also be condescending, patronizing, and outright rude. It's time for her to move on though, and I know she'll keep looking out for me in her new position.
E's replacement is the Russian dude who's friends with BBB. Russian will do well in his new role, and will sit right next to me. We'll learn a lot from each other - our strengths are not necessarily the other's weakness, but we'll complement each other well. He is, however, a bit of a chatty cathy, and as I found at lunch yesterday, he shares quite a bit of personal information. I don't mind hearing it, but it makes me feel as if I should share as well - and I don't want to. He also thinks BBB should leave his gf and date me, but that's an entirely different story.
My 'dotted-line' boss, S, is a woman I really like. We have the same work ethic and sense of humor, and she's giving me a lot of opportunities here.
I had a good conversation with my mentee yesterday, New Girl. She's doing well but feels she isn't, and there are a few areas she can improve in. I was nervous going into the conversation, because I wasn't sure how sensitive she would be, but it went really well and was a good dialogue. I need her to cut the cord a bit with me; she's relying on me too much, and I've been enabling that, but we're both going to work on that.
One coworker told me yesterday that she has told her bosses if they don't promote her at review time (Feb/March), then she's posting for a new job elsewhere. I have so many issues with that mentality. First of all, we're not particularly close, so why tell me that? That's just her personality, though - I know more than I need (or want) to know about her fertility treatments. Secondly, where does that attitude come from? Yes, sometimes you have to play hard ball to get more money or to get ahead. But if you're pulling that line, you better be able to back it up with concrete examples of why you deserve that promotion, and you better be ready to call their bluff if they don't. I have no doubts that she will post out if she doesn't get what she wants...and I have plenty of doubts that she's done the work deserving of a promotion.
And that's a wrap, folks. Have a good one!
Definite Case of the Mondays
My home, it is a pigsty, a direct result of laziness.
My eyes, they are tired, a direct result of early-morning insomnia.
My library book, it is now overdue, but it is also finished, a direct result of early-morning insomnia.
My make-up, it is non-existent, a direct result of waking up REALLY late, which is a direct result of early-morning insomnia.
My sister, she is crabby with me, and I with her, and have the emails to prove it, and is at least a partial result of tired eyes, waking up late, and early-morning insomnia.
My head, it is a-pounding, a direct result of sisterly fighting and early-morning insomnia and the afflictions that causes.
Schizo
There's someone I really, really, really hate. I might be oddly and perhaps a little disturbingly intrigued by them, but they still make my skin crawl with their incessant blah blah blah. It's like, the expectation is that people care about their farm animals and their sex and their boring, boring lives.
And even as I write them a hate-note, never to be sent, I wonder if I hate them only because I see parts of me in them. Which, you know, makes sense, as they're big enough to have eaten me, and not in a good way.
Out of the Mouths of Babes...
Yesterday, I received an email from a friend. Let's call her Amy. Amy told me, among other things, that her very young daughter had asked - while at the dinner table - if she, Amy, had ever seen a vagina kissing a penis.
Oh, dear.
That right there is why I'd never be a good parent. I'd either stammer and lie and say "Of course not! Where did you hear of such a thing!" or I'd stammer and say, "Well, yes, I have, but you're too young to know about that." Either way, I'd confuse the kid, probably lie, and in general, not handle things well.
Amy's answer was pretty good, I thought - actually, very good. She told her daughter that it's inappropriate to talk about any body parts that are underneath clothes at the dinner table or out in public, but if she had any questions she could ask Amy when they were private.
Great answer, right?
Well, of course, I couldn't leave it at that. I IM'd Amy last night that I had a quick question for her. When she responded, I asked (you know where this is going) if she had ever seen a vagina kissing a penis. She laughed, and then said she had. Amy turned the tables, though, asking me if I had ever seen that.
KtP" "Well...I'm not sure it was a kiss. It really was like more of a peck."Amy: "I swear I saw one full on frenching."KtP: "Ewwwww! Only once, though, right?"Amy: "At least once!"That ho. No wonder her toddler daughter is asking these questions!
From Zero....
to 60...
2006 Hyundai Tiburon.
Mine, all mine (well, and a little bit of the bank's) as of Friday night.
Regrets, I've Had a Few
Ever regret certain things, certain acts you've done, certain situations you've taken part in? Not because they didn't end well, or not because they caused drama at the time, or not for any of the 'normal' reasons one might regret something, but because then you and the someone else involved (or multiple someone elses, depending on the circumstance) are then linked together for all time.
Sometimes, that bothers me. I'd like to undo certain things to break that chain. I'd like to erase the tie that binds.
And maybe you're okay with how things actually ended, or with how the scene unfolded, but it still irks you that whenever you think of that experience, you're forced to think of everyone else who was there.
It's like spending a whole lot of time together and getting to know someone knew and really really clicking only...........to find that once you really get to know them...once you really get under their surface...they're not a very nice person. Maybe they're prejudiced. Maybe they're not clueless in an endearing way, but they're really just plain stupid. Maybe they're full of themselves and selfish and nosy and gossipy, and that all became apparent and now, now you've lost what you thought was going to be, could have been, a great new friendship. And even if it wasn't going to be a great friendship, it can still be a shock to find out that someone you initially liked and thought could be a supporter, a new friend in your corner, can turn out to be such a backstabbing, selfish bitch.
I also regret conceding things I really don't want to concede. I do this less now than when I was younger; it helps that I know pretty well who I am and what I will and won't tolerate. I can't be with someone who can't follow basic rules of punctuation and grammar. While I'm not perfect, I'd like someone who knows when to use an adverb and when to use an article and, frankly, when to spell both. I've dated guys before who can't do this, thinking "Oh, but he's so smart, and no one's perfect, and maybe he's just tired," and you know what? I shouldn't have to concede on what's important to me. I feel stupid when I do, for things never work out, and then I feel I shouldn't have taken them as far as I did in the first place.
And I also regret taking people at their word. When someone tells me, "Hey, btw, we won't be able to have all the info you need at the meeting you scheduled for three weeks from now, because we have exams to worry about, but we should have something," I believe him. Except, of course, when he comes to me on the day of the meeting and says they have NOTHING done at all.
Picture This
First on the list, two of my new shoes. Obviously not to be worn together:
Second, my new necklace!
You can't see the gold beading between the big glass beads that well, or the other beads that make up the rest of the strand, but trust me - it's very pretty.
Last, but not least, the Peon's living room:
Hopefully you realize that the one couch is in both pics; that's the loveseat under the window. The end tables were made by dad, against my protestations, but they are exactly what I wanted - black wood with glass. I believe a coffee table is being made by Santa's elves for Christmas. The matching lamps were a Christmas present last year from my sister; both with red shades. I definitely can't add anything else red into the room.
As you can see, I need something above the couch. I think a black-framed mirror - long - would add some depth and make the room look bigger, but I can't find one I like enough to actually pay for.
Directly at the end of the loveseat (and thus across from the couch) is my sad entertainment center:
Notice the very big lean from the right, and the bowing in the middle? That's what you get when you use an IKEA bookshelf for eight years. However, please feel free to ogle the I-heart-the-80s stereo system. Yes, that's a dual cassette with a record player. And yes, that's '7th Heaven' on the television.
I Think I've Been Here Before
A play. By Kate the Peon
Characters: Kate the Peon, a perfect speciman of both employee and female; Sister, a loveable but selfish blight on humanity.
Background: Sister has been engaged in house-buying negotiations. She and owners of the desired house have been back-and-forth twice over before stalemating. Recently, negotiations picked back up.
Sister learned this very same morning that her final offer on her dream house had been accepted.
Kate the Peon and Sister's parents are on a road trip to the East coast.
Setting: CubeLand at 5pm. The Peon sits, typing furiously at her keyboard, pen between her teeth. Not many others are around.
Ring, ring
KtP: (Looking at caller id; recognizes the number) Hi, what's up?Sister: (cheerful, almost perky) Nothing, just calling to see how you're doing. KtP: Fine, you? (continuing to type)
Sister: Good. Just on my way home.
KtP: That's good.
Sister: You're at work late today. Do they finally have work for you to do?
KtP: Well...sorta, yeah (jotting notes down)Sister: You should get a new job.KtP: Um. I have one.Sister: No, a new one.
KtP: (mocking) No, this is new. As of September 1st.Sister: No, you have a new role. You need a new job. Have you heard any more from mom and dad?KtP: No, not since they emailed that they're in New York.Sister: Yeah, me either. It's weird, having this big exciting news and not having them around to talk to about it.
KtP: (hesitantly) Um...okay.
Sister: What will I do when they die?
KtP: I have to go.
Finis
