Friday, June 29, 2007

Office-wide e-mail, Subject: Stapler Thief

Secretary to entire office: Someone is borrowing staplers and not returning them. If you have more than one stapler please put any extras in the supply cabinet. If you need a stapler, please ask and we'll order one for you.

Russian coworker via reply-all:
I've got two missing from my desk for the past three weeks. If you taking ANYTHING from my desk let me know about it AND return it. Thanks.

coworker who shares office with Russian coworker via reply-all: …and both my staplers are missing today. Thanks.

Lisa to Me:
This is so Office Space, I can't even stand it.

Me to Lisa:
Should I reply all and ask why he has two?

Lisa to Me: I don't get why they're even replying at all. I think Indian and Russian CW are just passive aggressively stealing each others staplers. Scandalous.

Me to Lisa:
You know it's the cleaning lady. She's plotting a cleaning lady's rebellion by way of stealing staplers AND messing with people by replacing their rubbish bins to different places around their office each day. That MINX!

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Universal Health Care?

I have not seen SiCKO yet, I hear it is getting great reviews and have seen Michael Moore all over television promoting his movie and have heard the excerpts of insurance claims workers that are truly horrific. In the movie Moore explains the history of the HMO, well, I am one of the "lucky" members of an HMO. While I am grateful to have any health care, the hoops that you must jump through in order to have your health care covered are outrageous. You cannot take an ambulance ride without getting it pre-approved (so if you are unconscious and are taken from a car accident, you won't be covered b/c you were pre-approved for the ride), general care has to be referred by a GP (and by general care I mean my yearly OB/GYN appointment), but since that referral is only active for three months, you have to see your GP EVERY YEAR (and pay the lovely co-pay) just to go to your other "specialist" and pay their co-pay as well. Now most people can choose to pay more for a non-HMO plan or pay out of pocket for services, but how is that fair to people who work hard and can't afford that extra cost? All in all, I've realized that HMO's are wonderful if you never get sick or do not have any sort of pre-existing condition that requires regular maintenance, but is universal health care the answer?

I have lived in England and benefited from their universal health care, and while I had lovely experiences of getting my yearly exams with no wait and no fuss, I have heard of people with cancer who cannot receive chemo because it is not deemed "life threatening" and of the long, long, long, waiting lists for people who require surgery not deemed "necessary" by the health care system. There is a reason why the richer set choose to go to private practices in order to pay out of pocket to be seen immediately, which brings us back to health care for the wealthy, essentially the same system we have here, so what is the answer? Maybe Michael Moore's new movie gives us some answers, but I'm not holding my breath.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

I know I'm not Ebert or Roeper...

...but this has been bugging me for a few weeks now and I need to get it out.

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl is one of my favorite movies of all time. It was cleverly written, subtly hysterical and it didn’t hurt that Orlando Bloom was sweaty and love-stricken through most of the flick.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest was very good, though the ending was terribly odd and didn’t make a lick of sense. But again, its humor and Orlando got the better of me and I was able to overlook the misplaced conclusion.

Now here’s my problem: Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End was completely ridiculous. Not that the first two weren’t, I mean we are talking about a trilogy based on magically cursed pirates gallivanting around the seemingly minuscule Caribbean Sea, but the final installment was just mind-bogglingly ridiculous.

Just so we're clear, this is coming from someone who re-reads the Harry Potter series incessantly; and watches Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Charmed re-runs daily, so believe me when I say I can get into implausible plots. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a fantasy film, it’s meant to be far-fetched, but the plot (if you can even call it that) was bordering on schizophrenic it was so out there.

Basically what I’m saying is that if you loved the first Pirates, and loved the second one less, skip the third. However, if you’re just looking for a bit of fun and don’t really care that a non-pirate ended up Pirate King; then by all means indulge yourself at the Cinema.

For now I’m just hoping I’ll have better luck with Ocean’s 13.

Friday, June 15, 2007

What the hell is a Barista anyway?

So, a new hotel has opened in our neighborhood, complete with the requisite Starbucks, a sports bar and a cute little ice cream parlor on the first floor. Husband and I decided to take a leisurely walk to the hotel (it's named after a certain jailbird heiress and her family) to partake in an after-dinner ice cream cone. The walk was lovely, the ice cream parlor and its staff were adorable, and husband's double scoop of cookie dough looked scrumptrulescent. I was in the mood for an iced coffee, so I strolled over to Starbucks and ordered a decaf grande whatever. The barista (gimme a fricken' break already) informed me that, regrettably, they were unable to produce a decaffinated iced coffee this evening. I scrunched up my nose, pointed to the menu behind the counter and shrugged. The barista followed my gaze, confirmed that, yes, they should have decaf available, but they don't. That was it. No further explanation. I stared. He stared. I squinted. He sweated. He asked what else I'd like. I said 'nothing', and I actually said thank you, even though what I wanted to say would have violated Hating The Player's no-cuss clause. So, off we went, Husband with his delicious cone and I with my, well, my suddenly deep, deep hatred of Starbucks and its useless baristas firmly established.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

How is it...

...that I can spend an entire day staring at my computer screen, scanning the internets, visiting useless celebrity websites, reading the occasional news article, and playing pointless games while getting not one page of actual work done - only to go home exhausted and needing a drink? I mean, I know I didn't do any work - hell, even my boss knows I didn't do any work, why should I be so tired? Has my brain dissolved into a tiny nugget barely able to process what condiment I should have on my burger at lunch, let alone actually accomplish anything even remotely deserving of my (very small) paycheck? Could it be that I have allowed myself to regress to a point where wondering whether Christina Aguilera really is pregnant is pretty much all my neurons can handle in an 8-hour period? Wow.

I'm going to have to sit and think about this for a while.

Doesn't everyone?

I recently spent a few hours in the emergency room for something that wasn’t a big deal at all and turned out to actually be a huge waste of time, but at least my mother got a good laugh out of it.

I had to give a urine sample, so I was getting out of bed and putting my shoes on when my mom noticed my shoes (a very fabulous pair of gold Nine West sandals) for the first time since we had been there.

Mom: Are those the shoes you had on when the paramedics showed up?

Me: Yes.

Mom: Do you always wear gold lamé shoes around the house?

Me: Yes…

Mom: Of course you do.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

Something to gush about...

Sometimes it's very difficult to think of fun & exciting topics to blog about. Seriously, look at us, we at Hating The Player haven't had much to say as of late. And it's no surprise, either. We, as Americans, tend to be fickle & easily bored, not only as observers, but as commenters as well. Think about it, we - all of us - find something new & pretty to be obsessed with, we can't get enough of it (whatever it may be - a television show, a new restaurant, or, in Kara's case, a pair of kicky heels), and then two weeks later we have to remind ourselves just exactly what about it fascinated us in the first place. I bet if you look back on even the past 3 months of your life, you can come up with a handful of things you've been utterly obsessed with, things you thought you simply could not live without. Come on, give it a go.

Here's Mine:

1) Wentworth Miller - I know I have touched on my undying love of all things Wenty in the past, but I haven't yet delved into the deepest reaches of my obsession with the man. I must admit that my affection for Wentworth has subsided since Season Two of Prison Break came to a close a month and a half ago, but my heart still skips a beat whenever I come across a picture of that face - and believe me, my Photobucket account is brimming with them. No, is.

2) Ballet flats - I bought a pair of these on sale at the Gap last month, and they are so freaking comfortable and seem to match every outfit I own. Now, while I am aware that, in all probability, they do NOT match every outfit I own, I am still in love with them enough to try to convince myself of just the opposite each day as I slip them on.

3) "House" - the husband and I only recently started watching this show, which just ended its third season on the FOX network. I remember stumbling upon an airing a couple of months ago when I thought Prison Break would be on. Well, Prison Break had the week off, and I had Hugh Laurie in all his scruffy, bitter glory - and I was in love. I ran out and bought the first two seasons, and the husband and I reveled in our pajama'd-ness as we devoured every episode. What's that you say? The premise of each and every episode is essentially the same? Wouldn't that get old after a while? Well, yes, the plotlines do tend to follow similar story arcs, but I don't care. It's rather comforting, you know, and it works just fine for me.

4) Babies - this may be because a few of my friends have recently been welcomed into parent-dom, or because every celebrity magazine and blog is filled with photos of expectant or newly post-birth movie star moms, or because my damn hormones are, per usual, out of whack. I don't know, but lately I've been drawn to websites like Celebrity Baby Blog and Celebrity Baby Scoop (they're essentially they same site, I don't know why I still check them both out), and I keep shoving pictures of babies and baby rooms and baby shoes and baby toys into the husband's face. And what movie did we just see? "Knocked Up", of course. My mother would be so happy to be reading this right now.

Your turn.