Twisty

Two Sodas

I’m in the midst of another lousy week. Thank God, there’s nothing truly awful going on - -just the daily stress of deadlines and work dramas. However, I keep telling myself that I work in a cubicle and not a coal mine, so I should quit bitching.

Coal mine or no, I need a break every so often. Since I don’t smoke, I usually spend my precious minutes between assignments taking the stairs to the soda machine on the 7th floor to get my fizzy, ice cold bottle of Diet Coke.

By some miracle, I didn’t require exact change.

So, I popped in my buck fifty (I know: A BUCK FIFTY! Highway robbery!) and waited for the telltale noise.

CLUNK.

My delicious caffeine-filled refreshment made its way down the shoot into the bin.

As I reached in to snag my special treat…

CLUNK.

A bonus soda!

Woo hoo!

I think it’s a sign that things are turning around.

Dude Looks Like a Lady

Something to Ponder:

So, as I'm walking down the hall, the man in front of me holds the door. for the Men's Room.

Is this force of habit or does this guy think I'm a dude?

Birthdays

I woke up this morning in a cold sweat thinking I forgot someone’s birthday.

The worst part is, I can’t remember the exact day. (My birthday database was one of the casualties of my recent job change.) So, I’m in the uncomfortable position of having to sneak about to find the correct date, feeling awful that I may have already missed it.

Birthdays are tricky little things.

Why, you ask?

Everyone seems to have a very different take on the B-day.

The Birthday Militants: These are people who feel their birthday should be remembered and celebrated by all. Don’t get me wrong. I like these people because they drop you lots of hints that the big day is coming up. I like that I make them special and don’t look like a big boob.

The Birthday Martyrs: I don’t even think the CIA could figure out these people’s birthdays. These are the folks who won’t remind a soul about their birthdays, remain silent throughout the big day, then feel awful when no one wished them well, and proceed to make you feel so guilty you’re ready to give them a new car or a kidney to make yourself not feel like a big, forgetful boob.

The One Foot in the Grave People: These are folks who say something like, “Thanks for reminding me of my own mortality!” when you bake them a cake. These are the people you snarkily enjoy giving “Over the Hill” cards to.

I like the plan I have with Viv. We know we’re both born in the same month. (I think her birthday is somewhere in the 20’s.) Regardless, we make it a point to forget each other’s birthdays. If you remember – great, if you don’t – great. I think the gift we give each other is taking off the pressure to remember.

I, for one, think there should be a big, international database of special days. You pop in a person’s name and hometown and out pops a nicely organized list of birthdays, anniversaries, etc. to help organizationally challenged folks like me.

Until that happens, I’ll just have to try not to look like a doofus. Well, I’m off to plan my super secret birthday finding mission.

Ana and Her E-mail

There is a woman out there. For the heck of it, I’ll even use her real name – Ana.

Almost every day for three months, I have gotten a message from good ol’ Ana in my work inbox.

The thing is: I don’t know her (or at least don’t remember her) at all.

From what I’ve gleaned, I’ve somehow stumbled onto her list of “undisclosed recipients.” My guess is that this list is theoretically composed of friends and family, as most of the messages seem to have that theme to them.

As some of you may remember, I had a similar mix-up with Tim (Same Generic Irish Last Name) about two years ago. Tim and I shared nearly identical Hotmail addresses. Quite often, I was the recipient of warm, cheerful messages meant for the Tim-ster. My favorite was a picture-heavy, e-mail account of by a proud pal of Tim’s detailing his daughter’s recent track meet win. Not wanting Tim to miss out on the news, I dutifully wrote back to each source responsible for the ill-directed communication, informing them about the mix-up and – more often than not -- adding some zesty, positive comment. (“Great to hear about your daughter’s win!” “I’m envious. The fishing isn’t nearly as good in Jersey.” “I’m sure Tim is eager to hear about the birth of your beautiful daughter.”) Some folks even felt compelled to write me back and we shared a pleasant -- all-be-it brief -- connection in cyberspace.

I got my first message from Ana back in December. Sent via her work e-mail account, it was “Successories”-like and full of cats. Lots of cats. It would say something like “Hang in there!!!!!!!!” and feature a cat dangling by its nails precariously from a high tree branch. It ended with a message about God being the center of the universe and that people who don’t believe in Him are missing out on everything good in the world and are destined to lead sad, sad lives. A forward, it required you to send to eight people or miss out on God’s grace.

Now, there are two things in this world I really dislike:
- Abrasive and/or aggressive religious recruitment
- Forwards that bring non-forwarders bad luck

However, not one to be rude, I wrote her back a short but polite message letting her know she has the wrong gal and asked that she remove me from her list.

The next day, I (and the rest of her undisclosed recipients) received an animated picture of Jesus, crying blood, with a little note from her advising her friends and family to pray each day, lest we suffer God's wrath.

I wrote her back again. Though I was tempted to say something cheeky (“Please remove me from your list. ---- Lucifer”), I again took the high road. This time I wrote her a kind but pointed e-mail asking for removal immediately.

However, despite my requests, the e-mails kept coming and coming and coming.

So, I decided to stop my complaining and go along for the ride.

I suppose my voyeuristic leanings made me want to get a glimpse into the life of someone else. Who is Ana? What is she all about? Why didn’t she take me off her list? However, for the past few months, I’ve only gotten Muppet nativity scenes (apparently Kermit is an acceptable Joseph), bible readings, and more cats than you can shake a stick at. Nothing personal. No messages to friends and family. Just these forwards. I continue to know little about Ana except that she has strong faith and lousy grammar. And yeah, she really likes cats.

Here’s a tidbit from today’s e-mail:

“God still sits on the throne, (sic) the devil is a liar. You may be going through a tough time right now but God is getting ready to bless you in a way that only He can…Please pass this to at least four people you want to be blessed and a copy back to me….”

Today I reluctantly came to the realization that there’s perhaps nothing more to know. So, I went into the Tools menu and put in a special rule to delete Ana’s e-mails, effectively banishing her from my inbox. I suppose only divine intervention (or tweaking by a System Administrator) can rescue Ana from the Deleted Items folder.

So, goodbye Ana and God bless you. I wish you well. And yeah, if you don’t forward this URL to 30 of your closest friends, it’s all good by me.