Too much information, really.

I’m fully convinced Sacha Baron Cohen is shooting Borat 2 at my work. And this time, he’s dressed as a woman, in drag.

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Kind of like this but with less hair and actually wearing clothes.

Allow me to explain.

There’s a woman at my work that loves to chat. For no reason in particular, I will refer to her as the Chatterbox.

She regularly puts on a pot of coffee and invites everyone to the break room. Sometimes, she senses your presence in the break room (getting an innocent glass of water, or what have you) and corners you, making it impossible to escape.

I’m a really polite human being. I humour her and listen for a bit before dashing off. See, the Chatterbox isn’t having a conversation with you. The Chatterbox is actually having a monologue. And you’re her audience.

Cool, cool. Sometimes I have days where I don’t care to chat. Sometimes I’m totally cool with just listening (or not…heh heh). The thing is, she goes way overboard with the information she shares. For example, today I learned that she and her husband of 9 years, haven’t had sex in months. And I also learned that she bought a leather outfit from Seductions and that he couldn’t keep it up, and she was offended. And they had anal sex once and she had anal tearing which was very painful! AND I ALSO LEARNED that she pooped on both of her children whilst giving birth.

Why the fuck do I need to know all of this? Jesus.

I kept a completely straight face and nodded empathetically. Or at least, I tried to. I don’t know. My Nordic roots make it difficult for me to look empathetic.

And then it hit me. I’m on fucking Borat. I casually looked around the room. So where are the cameras? Surely, this woman isn’t telling me these gross personal details because she thinks I want to know them. Surely, this woman is really a troll of a man who is just messing with me and recording my reactions on a hidden camera somewhere.

Yes, yes. That’s it. Borat 2 is about the politeness and patience of Canadians, and I’m the star.

On that note, I actually don’t find Sacha Baron Cohen very funny.

Impromptu Miami Fling Part Deux

So I took an impromptu trip to Miami with a fling last month.

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It was probably one of the craziest things I’ve ever done. I literally took my hastily packed bag and went off to Miami…on a random Saturday with some guy I was seeing, like it was no big deal.

The thing is, things got weird when we got back.

It was like we were two different people while we were there. We shed our insecurities, fears, and inhibitions for the weekend, and became our alter egos.

In other words, we got too close too fast. We hardly knew each other, yet we were in another country, completely dependent on the other. We became our alter egos because we wanted to mesh well. We wanted to control the ugly parts of our personalities that would repel us from one another. So we became more care-free and agreeable.

And then we got sick of each other. We got sick of ourselves. We missed our actual selves, ugliness included. Pretending to be nicer/more fun/more spontaneous became exhausting. Being “on” all the time was exhausting. I felt naked. I barely knew him.

So when we got back, we fell out of touch. I’m not kidding when I say that he dropped me off at home, we kissed goodbye and that was the end of it. I didn’t bother calling or texting him, and he didn’t bother getting in touch either. It was one of those mutual things where both parties just silently agree to pretend nothing ever happened. In the words of Don Draper, “This never happened. It will scare you how much this never happened.”

I do suspect he’s been avoiding me (for no good reason, really). He doesn’t really hang out with our group as often as he used to. Though the few times he was there, we both acted nonchalantly. It’s kind of hilarious that there’s a huge elephant in the room and nobody knows. None of our friends know about the trip–at least, none of them heard it from me.

He’s the strong silent type so I doubt he would have said anything. Even if he did, nobody would believe him. It’s so out of character for me. Plus, I didn’t show much interest in him in front of our friends. It would definitely sound like a desperate lie.

I remember the trip fondly, and I feel like I can check “do something spontaneous with reckless abandon” off my bucket list.

The moral of the story is: Do something crazy, have fun, and don’t have any expectations.

Ta.

Oh god…back to work tomorrow.

I just dread Sunday evenings because I know they lead to Monday mornings.

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I don’t hate my job. I don’t hate my coworkers. I’m just mildly annoyed by the small talk I have to endure for 8 hours, 5 days a week while I’m there.

Please, allow me to bitch about things that make me irate at work:

1. Monday morning elevator smalltalk, which always goes a little something like this:
Nancy: Hi Kat, how was your weekend?
Kat: Oh, regretfully short, Nancy. How was yours?
Nancy: It was fine. I spent a lot of time with the kids. We went up to see my mother at her place and planted a few tomatoes. Then we went to go watch [name of shitty hyped up movie] as a family on Sunday night. It was good.
Kat: Good (leave me the fuck alone).

2. The workplace Gossip who tries to elicit information out of you about things you couldn’t care less about.
Sarah: So I hear Margaret is quitting! Oh, so sad to see her go. Do you know why she’s leaving? Does she have a better job waiting? Is she moving to the U.S.? Did she win the lottery? Is she dying?

3. Wearing pants.

4. Being intruded upon by a barging coworker who thinks that my office is just an extension of his office. I tremble like a meek baby rabbit whenever I hear his shoes clacking on the floors out of his office, and into mine.

5. Having to pretend to be nice to people I don’t like. We all had coworkers we aren’t too fond of. Pretending to be nice is exhausting, especially when you’re dealing with a moron or a catty coworker who hasn’t quite grown out of her highschool days.

6. And finally, drowning in a sea of e-mails every morning, because some people would rather cc me on shit I don’t care about than enjoy their weekend.

Yes, many things make me irate at work. However, I must admit that I do my job well and probably make everyone else look like a bunch of assholes.

Ta.

Introvert Seclusion

I took a few hours of designated no-contact selfish ME time today.

I warned all of my friends and turned off my phone. I enjoyed about an hour (with a bunch of breaks, of course) in the sauna. The Fins and the Russians love bathing in the sauna. They even go as far as to bring in vine bouquets and whip one another, whilst in the sauna. It gets really heated. This is to increase circulation, of course.

Of course.

I really enjoyed whipping some of my neighbours with that thing. Some of them really, really deserve it. I’m looking at you and your obnoxiously small yet incredibly loud dog, Kim.

Anywho, I’m all doped out now (the sauna really does take a lot out of you) and I’m off to take a cold shower and get some rest.

Ciao.

I got an award and it wasn’t for showing up

Remember when we were all in elementary school and we got awards for just showing up? I distinctly remember getting a little purple ribbon (everyone got one, actually) which said “Participation Award” in honourary golden letters.

So, naturally, my first response was “What the hell is this?” Everyone got rewarded just for showing up. Mind you, we all had to show up. All classes came to a screeching halt every time Track and Field Day came around. The only way you could avoid participating was by hiding at home, accompanied by a bag of pork rinds, you fat fuck.

I just couldn’t understand why we were rewarded for something we were essentially forced to do, every year.

But I digress.

I got an award, y’all.

Stressingoutcollege nominated me for a bunch of awards. She also mentioned that I’m beautiful and awesome, which you should all believe because she has all of the answers to life. Seriously, she does. Check out her blog.

Now, now. There are rules and procedures that have to be followed here. Please be patient.

My Answers to the Top-Secret Screening Questions

  1. Paper or plastic?
    Paper. Oh god, paper.
  2. Hobbes or Rousseau?
    Hobbes. It’s all about the Social Contract, baby.
  3. What’s the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?
    Mango.
  4. To Snuggie or not to Snuggie?
    I tried it and it didn’t work out. I couldn’t understand why I needed my blanket to have sleeves and why my back was uncovered. Maybe I was doing it wrong, I don’t know.
  5. And, er… what’s your favorite day of the year?
    Halloween, hands down. I just love dressing up and getting into character. My best one so far was Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction.

Obligatory 5 Random Facts About This City Girl:

1. Someone tried to mug me about two years ago. I was so startled that I started laughing nervously… Then, hysterically. The thug/lowlife got the fuck out of there fast, and I got to keep my wallet and cellphone 🙂 Moral of the story: if someone tries to mug you, start laughing and try to look crazy. Disclaimer: If they appear to be hopped up on drugs, just comply with them, because your craziness will probably invoke aggressiveness.

2. Like everyone else educated in Ontario, I sometimes like to parler en Francais randomly quand je speak. For those of you who didn’t go to school here and don’t know what I’m referring to…the French program in regular schools leaves a lot to be desired, and leaves its students speaking half French, half English, half the time.

3. I love spiders and let them live in my home rent-free. I assure you, this is purely utilitarian.

4. I’m currently reading “Spy the Lie” by Phil Houston and company. It’s about CIA deception detection techniques. I’m only reading it so I can get better at lying, because quite frankly, I suck and it’s embarrassing.

5. When I was 5, my parents told me I was going to go live with our family friends in the country (as a joke, obviously). I believed them and quickly packed my backpack, while fantasizing about my future Barbie playroom in their giant house.

Without further ado, I will pass the torch to a few other individuals who have tickled me pink lately.

In no particular order:

Versatile Blogger Award

Versatile Blogger Award Logo

1. Display the award logo on your blog.
2. Thank and link back to the person who nominated you.
3. State 7 things about yourself.
4. Nominate 15 bloggers for this award.
5. Notify those bloggers of the nomination by linking to one of their specific posts so that they get notified by ping back.

Liebster Award

Liebster Award Logo

1. The Liebster Award is given by bloggers to bloggers who have less than 200 followers.
2. Each blogger should post 11 random facts about themselves.
3. Each blogger should answer the 11 questions given to you.
4. Choose 11 new bloggers to pass the award on to and link them in your post.
5. Create 11 new questions for the chosen bloggers.
6. Go back to their page and tell them about the award.
7. No tag backs.

Very Inspiring Blogger Award

Very Inspiring Blogger Award

1. Display the award logo.
2. Link back to the person who gave you this award nomination.
3. State seven pieces of information about yourself.
4. Nominate 15 fellow bloggers, post links to their page and drop them a comment to let them know.

Super Sweet Blogger Award

Super Sweet Blogger Award Logo

1. Thank the Super Sweet Blogger that nominated them
2. Answer five super sweet questions and five of your own
3. Include the Super Sweet Blogging award image in your blog post
4. Nominate a baker’s dozen (13) other bloggers
5. Notify your nominees on their blog
And last, but not least, my 5 questions to you.

1. What were you known for in high school?

2. What’s the worst movie you’ve ever seen?

3. Cat person or dog person?

4. What do you need to be happy?

5. What’s your favourite food?

Ta.