GreenCellarDoor

I was shopping in the Petites section at Banana Republic today, and I had to stand up on my tippy toes to reach the blouses in the clearance section. Do you think their interior designers understand the irony in this? (Hint: Petites apparel is specially made to fit women 5′ 4″ and under).

So, I’ve been busy as all get-out lately, to use a quaint but apt colloquialism. Ya see, internet, I am making good on my January 1 promise to Get More, just like T-Mobile says. I am just about to finish up an eight-week introductory drawing class at a local fine arts center, and tomorrow will kick off week five of a six-week fitness boot camp. I’m going to learn “Seafood Basics” at a cooking class this Thursday, and I also tried Bikram (hot) yoga once. I didn’t like it. I also don’t like drawing as much as I’d hoped. In fact, my favorite ‘08 activity (besides traveling) has been the thing that I thought I’d hate the most: boot camp! I wake up at 5:30 a.m. four days a week and do a bajillion pushups and lunges before the sun comes out. And now I have actual muscle tone in my arms, and I could probably kill a man with my thighs. No joke. Don’t try me. I’m thinking about signing up for another six weeks of boot camp. And then I’m going to shave my head and join the Navy S.E.A.L.S.

But don’t think it’s been all personal growth and self-improvement. I got Mario Kart Wii and I’ve pre-ordered Rock Band. A girl’s gotta have priorities, right?

Oh my goodness, internet. Things have been a bit nuts in Patti town lately. First, I have to let you in on a little secret. When I wrote this post I had to intentionally leave out New York, which is where I went last weekend for a surprise party. I was ultra-paranoid about not ruining the surprise. Even though our flight was delayed for hours and we missed the big reveal by something ridiculous like 15 seconds, the party and the weekend were AWESOME. We actually stayed in Brooklyn the entire time, never venturing over to Manhattan, but whatever! We got to hang with the Lytles and Sarah Brown & Co. all at the same time, and I also got to see my Lil’ Sis who was in the neighborhood visiting some awesome friends of her own. And shopping. Miran las fotos.

So then our flight home on Sunday was smooth as silk and we get on MARTA feeling like we’re on top of the world because we’re so happy and we’re about to see our house and our dog and our bed and then suddenly: Oh shit where’s my backpack? No seriously where is it? I thought you had it. Well I thought YOU had it. Jay, it has my laptop in it. My LAPTOP!!! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I’m pretty much alternately swearing and crying nonstop for the next 2 hours as we go through the process of retracing our steps, finding it nowhere, and reporting it missing to three separate Lost-and-Founds (MARTA, Airport, and Delta).

I spent the next few sleepless nights going through a cycle of freak-outs:

1. I just lost something very expensive that I use every day.
2. I just lost a ton of information and data that I cannot replace, and that I do not have backed up.
3. I have given away a ton of personal information, including bookmarks and stored passwords and addresses of people I care about that is now potentially in the hands of someone who can do Very Bad Things with it.
4. Repeat.

By Wednesday, after daily calls to Lost & Found yielded nothing, I came to accept that I was never going to see my laptop again, and oh well. I reluctantly decided I’d just have to replace it, and Jay and I planned to hit up the Apple store on Thursday evening. We laughed about how we’d both been looking around on MARTA in case we saw my backpack somewhere, as if that were actually likely. I secretly fantasized that some miracle would happen and my backpack would just magically appear on our doorstep like nothing bad had happened.

On Thursday, the unlikely happened. After a very long day of conducting testing at work, during which my phone was off, I received two messages from a man named Stephen, a pawn shop owner. He had a laptop, and he thought it was stolen. He found my phone number in a file, and he needed to speak to me because the man who brought it into his shop and asked for $200 in exchange for the laptop was getting ready to leave. Holy shit!

Because I was temporarily unreachable, Stephen stalled by lying to the thief, saying he made some calls and found out the laptop was reported missing (we hadn’t filed a police report, thinking maybe it would turn up in Lost & Found). Eventually, the thief gave up and left. But not before allowing his license to be photocopied at the pawn shop. Stephen ended up getting in touch with Jay via Ioana, whose number he also found, and by 6:30 pm, I had my computer in my hands again. Three cheers for the perseverence and the kindness of strangers!

But that’s not quite the end of the story. The thief asked Stephen for the number of the person who reported the laptop missing, so Stephen gave him my number just to see what he would do with it. I got a call from a guy who sounded like an idiot, telling me he knew who took my laptop and he knew where it was, and could he have $200 for his troubles. I told him that I also knew where my laptop was, and I also knew who stole it, and pretty soon the police would know, too. Well, I guess life just isn’t fair, he said, which REALLY pushed my buttons, specifically the button that prompts me to tell someone off. No, life is NOT fair, not when people take things that don’t belong to them and instead of returning them to their rightful owners, they try to pawn those stolen things for money they don’t deserve. No, sir, THAT is not fair. I stopped short of telling him he was a good-for-nothing low life who can go fuck himself, but then added attempted extortion to the list of things I was going to tell the police.

I have a new hero in life, and he runs a pawn shop downtown. All’s well that ends well.

Click.

I know, I know, I’m just phoning it in today. And those photos have been up for weeks. It’s nothing personal. I just don’t have time for you right now.

The first time I saw this Tylenol ad at a MARTA station, for days I could not get thoughts of soft serve ice cream out of my head. I finally bought a cone at the Zesto down the street from me a couple weeks ago. This was my first soft serve cone in probably 15 years or more. It tasted like frosting. Delicious, cold, melty, vanilla frosting.

Today I have a sore throat, so I went back to Zesto for more ice cream. Then I took some Advil. Good work, Tylenol’s ad campaign creators! Zesto thanks you.

I feel like I haven’t been keeping up with my crazy MARTA stories up in this hizz, so I better get this one on virtual paper for posterity. There was the one ride where a mentally challenged woman got all up in my personal space and alternately stared at/laughed at me for two full stops, but that’s not really out of the ordinary, is it?* On Friday afternoon I was sitting behind a woman who waved dollar bills at a man across the aisle while he pretended to strip off his jacket. Then the following [paraphrased from memory] conversation took place:

Woman: You should come to my work! We have strippers every Wednesday between 3:00 and 5:00.

Man: Where do you work?

Woman: Wendy’s Buckhead. We keep the pole in a closet and when the health inspector comes we put a mop on the end. Every Tuesday night we have Crisco fights. Come by! Bring lots of singles.

* * *

In other news, the foreclosed house next door received 15 bids in one day, and the lady with the time machine did not win. Huzzah! We met the guy who bought** it and he seemed relatively normal and nice. Honestly, it’s not hard to do better than the previous tenants of that house, which was a rental property for a few years, during which time we had the misfortune of living next to Loud Steve and Crazy Carla. Loud Steve had loud parties and loud sex which we could hear over the noise of our own parties. Before LS, Crazy Carla, who used to come knock on our door wearing white t-shirts with no bra, was our neighbor. She told Jay how she spied on me when I was in the backyard with the dog and also how she had a gun and she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot a black person*** if he was in her yard. Hidey-ho, neighbors. Hidey-ho.

* * *

*No, it is not.

**Currently under contract. Homeowners know what I’m talking about.

***Crazy Carla preferred to use another word. It was not a nice word.

I dryclean all of my work pants, even the ones that are okay to machine wash, because I don’t like ironing that crease down the front. I actually never learned to iron properly, and each time I attempt to it usually ends in disaster. Admitting this makes me feel like such a dude.

Work terms I have learned:

COB and EOD: Close of Business and End of Day. They mean the same thing. Ex. “Let me know your decision by COB Thursday.” Despite the fact that this could refer to anytime between 5:00 p.m. and 8:00 a.m. the next day, I’ve grown to like it. It prevents you from procrastinating too much.

Net-net: I’m not sure of the exact definition on this one, but I think it means the conclusions drawn after a meeting. Ex: “So our net-net is that we’re gonna fire 500 employees. Sounds good.” It sounds ridiculous, but I’ve heard it.

Ping: To contact someone, either via IM, or email, but not phone (I think). I hate it. I also hate the fact that it’s become part of my daily vocabulary.

Bandwidth: Free time. Ex.: “Do you have the bandwidth to take on another project?” It took me weeks to figure out what the hell people were asking me when they said this. Luckily I had the good sense not to say “Why, I don’t have any bandwidth at all. I’m not an internet server!” I HATE hearing this word in this context. It sounds so DORKY. I never ever use this one myself. Please kick me if I start to.

Socialize: Share information. Ex.: “I’m gonna send you a draft of my report but don’t socialize it within the design team just yet.” This one makes very little sense to me, because there’s nothing “social” about a report. It’s boring. Don’t talk to me about it if I’m at a party, socializing for REAL. Whatever.

Re-Purpose: To make a change to a meeting agenda. Ex. “I set up a meeting to talk about hiring, but let’s repurpose the meeting to talk about layoffs.” I have tried to understand why such a word needed to be created, but so far I haven’t really figured it out.

Got any favorite work-speak gems? Lemme see ‘em in the comments.

Hey, tea drinkers! Want to try my custom blend over at Adagio? I’m pretty happy with the way it turned out, so you might like it, too. If you don’t think vanilla mint tea is your bag*, there are tons of other options to choose from. If you’ve never ordered from Adagio before, I can even email you a $5 gift certificate to sweeten your pot*. Just leave a comment and fill in the email field, and sooner or later you’ll see a magical email from me in your box. If you’re new to tea, and I mean good, loose tea, not the crappy teabags filled with dust, Adagio has the best website I’ve seen to help you explore and try new things. It’s a great example of good user-centered design, and the selection and prices are decent. I don’t work for them or anything, but I’ve been ordering their teas for nearly three years now, and I’ve always been pleased with the experience.

In other news, I think the empty house next door has gone into foreclosure, because this weekend there have been a crap ton of people coming by to look at it. One woman asked us if this was the type of neighborhood where all the neighbors hang out together. I looked around for her time machine from the 1950’s but she must have parked it around the corner. Then Jay told her about the crackheads who steal shit in an effort to scare her away. “And take your progressive dinners with you!” We hate people.

*Man. I should get paid for brilliant copy like this.

I get a sick thrill out of putting money into my savings account. I have three savings accounts, if you include my 401(k). I manage them all online, which is a little disappointing. I kind of wish that instead of electronic theoretical money, my savings were gold and silver coins that I could put into bags with big dollar signs on them and store them in my coffers. What are coffers? I don’t really know, but I want big ones. I’m like a younger, female, human version of Scrooge McDuck*.

One of my savings accounts is earmarked for “Vacation Travel.” It’s a good thing, too, because I’m going places, you guys, and not just figuratively. Portland, Chicago, Baltimore, Tokyo and Kyoto are all going to be getting some quality Patti time in 2008. Not surprisingly (I would hope), I’m most excited about Japan, but that’s not going to happen until late in the year, so hopefully domestic travel will hold me over until then. I’m crossing my fingers that, between now and then, the dollar will miraculously gain in value so I don’t come back from vacation penniless. However, I don’t see that happening in time, so my backup plan is to evangelize hobo chic until it becomes high fashion and then it trickles down until they are selling it at Banana Republic. Oh, you have fingerless gloves? Well check out my barrel and suspenders, bitch! Now get away from my trash can fire.

*I’ve seen the Disney version of A Christmas Carol so many times I’m convinced it’s the original.

Hey duders. I’m still alive. I appreciate all the Portland advice, which will absolutely be put to good use. The trip is in March, so stay tuned for a full report (or maybe just a link to a Flickr set. I dare not promise too much).

Currently, I’m fighting a cold (and losing) and waiting for my turkey soup to finish slow-cooking. Later I’m going to zone out on the couch with the Super Bowl on so I can catch the cars dot com commercial that the marketing department has been buzzing about for months now. I guess I’ve never mentioned this (to you), but I work for AutoTrader dawt com, and that other place is our biggest online competitor. So if you love me, don’t use them. Use us. And if you don’t love me, get your damn eyeballs away from here. I don’t want to know you.

Speaking of work, it’s going great. I got a bonus and a raise, so I’ve got to be doing something right. Also, I got the facilities people to change the tag on my cube to say “Patti” instead of “Patricia,” so, you know, I’ve been making some major strides.

It’s been a strange transition into grownup-hood for me. Even though I’ve been working in the usability field for nearly three years, I was technically still an underpaid student four months ago. I rarely took time off and I was frustrated and angry most of the time. Now I have built in vacation time that I’m expected to take. People respect my opinion and value my expertise. It’s still taking time getting used to how much better my life is now. I have to keep reminding myself that I deserve the fuck out of this awesome life o’mine. Heck yes!

Sweet Jesus. The awful commercials have already started.

We’re less than 10 days into the year but I’m pleased to report that I’m doing rather well with my ‘08 goals. I’ve been planning a shitload of out-of-town trips. So far two of them are booked and three more are definite. I have also received one spa facial.

In related news, do you have any tips on what to do, where to eat, and most importantly, where the good shopping is in Portland, OR? Please do advise.

But enough about me, let’s talk about your resolutions. Specifically, the one where you decide you’re gonna join a gym and work out regularly and cause the gym to be super crowded every time I go and basically get in the way of me having a pleasant and relaxing experience. Care to hazard a guess as to when you’ll peter out and give up and I can go back to not shooting you the stink eye when I see you on the stationary bike wearing a coat with a fur-lined collar? End of January, maybe? I’m just curious.