Swearrings

Thanks to today's internet censorship (SOPA & PIPA) controversy, I now have an occasion appropriate for these earrings. I don't even know what to call them. Comic book swear word earrings? Censored curses?

Things My Boss Says II

I previously posted a list of clichés my boss uttered from 2008-2009. I intended to wait and post another update after 2010 was over, but the list is already pretty big this year, plus I found some more old ones when I looked through emails he had sent me. I didn't do a scientific study, but I think his cliché-to-email ratio is 1:2. Of course, I try not to repeat them on my list. Yesterday, he caught himself mixing metaphors with "Ridin' herd of the shotgun." I'm still puzzling over that one.

Click "read more" for the latest list:

French Kiss (BritFrance Part Deux)

After our smashing week in jolly old England, my roommate Julie and I reluctantly set off from the white cliffs of Dover in a hovercraft headed for Calais. In Calais, we were immediately ushered onto a train bound for Paris that dropped us off into the bustling chaos of Gare du Nord train station.

Julie and I both minored in French in college. She had visited France previously as part of a college summer program. This was my first trip and my first chance to ever actually use those eight years of French lessons in real life.

I was instantly overwhelmed. I understood nothing. My last French class had been three years prior. Thankfully, the major directional signs were also printed in English, but all the ads were in French and left me scratching my head. Plus, there are so many foreign people running about in major cities that you can’t tell whose language skills are worse. Is my French that bad, or are they speaking another language altogether?

Your Nose Is Shiny

Once I was out of college for a couple of years, it kind of dawned on me that meeting people takes effort. This was before Internet dating (well, at least I personally didn’t have a computer at home); I’d already learned it was not such a good idea to date coworkers; and I didn’t think a church would be the place for me to meet like-minded people. So I thought maybe I’d take a class.

Naturally, the class that I decided to take - in order to meet people - was in Klingon...

High School French Girls

After English and Pig Latin, the next language I attempted to master was French. I was probably in my third year of it when my friend Shawn started hanging out with the French girls in our high school. Shawn was a year younger than me, which meant she needed me to drive her around to the parties. Or in this case, she needed me to drive her and three French girls to a party.

In the car, whatever we said was in English, and Shawn did most of the talking. Even though I knew some French, I was not really confident in attempting to use it in real life, and plus I am an introvert. I think some of the French girls were kind of introverted, too, or maybe just not very confident with their English.

Well, we got to the typical high school house party in middle class suburbia, thrown by and/or mostly populated with some dumb high school boys.

Dumb drunk guys + French girls = blog post...

VPO'd

At the age of 27, I was working at an educational testing company, when the president offered me a new position. It had been determined that someone needed to be in charge of writing proposals full-time, so that we could win more government contracts. Prior to that, proposals were written by the president, vice presidents, or various project managers with some help from their administrative assistants. I heard that a particular VP, known for procrastinating, had screwed up and missed a deadline. Thus, a new position was created so that someone (me) would be responsible for gathering and maintaining information from various sources and ensuring that all proposal requirements would be addressed and submitted by their very strict deadlines.

Initially, I enjoyed this position a lot because it drew on my strengths in writing and editing, organizing, and making things look pretty on the page. Unfortunately, it also required herding cats. ...

That Witch We Call a Rose

After my mom died and my dad retired, he surprised the rest of the family by taking up amateur acting. One day, he saw an ad in the paper for a play at a local senior center and decided to audition.

He went up to the reception desk there, and the receptionist gave him some information and answered his questions. She obviously was used to working with senior citizens, as she enunciated very clearly and loudly for the hard-of-hearing.

"If you have any more questions," she said, as she leaned quite dramatically over to one side, "my name is I-LEAN."

"Well, thank you. It's very nice to meet you, Eileen," said my dad while nodding his head up and down emphatically. "My name is Bob."

Things My Boss Says (2008-2009)

I thought I was pretty good at speaking foreign languages, but my boss has so much to teach me. I've been keeping a list of his favorite clichés. I've had it in my tickle file to post for a while now, but I wasn't sure how high to lift the kilt on this. I finally decided to put some lipstick on it and get it out there. Going forward, I'll continue to keep my ear to the ground and touch base with you later with updates. Click "Read more" for the list from 2008-2009.