Mystery Meatball Mumu Monday

Mumus and Meatballs…It must be Monday.

I came in today with a brilliant idea.  This past weekend, I was fortunate enough to visit family friends renting a house for the week on Long Beach Island.  As an Atlantic City girl, this was a nice change of pace from the homeless people on the boardwalk that hiss at me as I walk past.  Some of them have trouble making the “s” noise though, since they have never been introduced to toothbrush technology.  I guess then it just turns out to be more of a lisp-y spatter.

Anyway, my brilliant idea was inspired by my dear neighbor who has always been like a second mom to me.  A more laid-back, more forgiving of disorganized people, type mother.  She was raving about the brand new mumu she got this weekend.  A tie-dye, one-size-fits-all, sleeves-like-wizard, mumu. You can imagine how quickly Dior got on the horn with her to completely redesign the fall runway looks for NYC fashion week. If you don't know what a mumu is, think of what they use to cover Connecticut when it rains (100 points if you know I didn't make that joke up myself), or just see the photos below.

I thought to myself, and by "myself", I mean out loud since I rarely have a filter or inner monologue,  “Gee wilikers! There are some large people in this world.  If one size really does fit all, then the possibilities of the functionality of a mumu seem to be shafted when it is only used for clothing purposes.  Let’s think outside the box…” Yeah, ok I didn’t say “Gee wilikers”.

I present, 6 OTHER uses for mumus.

1. Camping Tent: 

The bottom line is that if you have a mumu, you have everything you need for camping.  Mumus can also be used to pack up your clothes and hang them on the back of a stick like in old western times.  You have clothing, obviously.  You have a towel.  If you’re fortunate enough to camp in cabins you have bedding (see: #3).  Last but not least, I bring you, the mumu tent.

2. Car Cover:  

This all depends on what’s more valuable to you: Your Mercedes or your mumu?

3. Fitted Sheet: 

There are people in this world who are mattress sized.  If it doesn’t fit the mattress, then is it really one-size-fits-all?  Think again, mumu makers.  Think again.

4. Hammock:  

You don’t even have to take your mumu off to make a hammock.  Just bunch up some extra fabric and ask any friends you still have, despite the fact that you bought a mumu, to tie you between two trees.  The challenge isn’t making the mumu hammock work; it’s finding friends.

5. Curtains:  

This is just the reverse idea of something Maria thought of back at the start of World War II.  Some children need playclothes, some houses need curtains.  It all depends on where you are in your life.  I dedicate this makeshift mumu décor example to my mother, as this is her favorite movie.  For more enjoyment, watch Frederick, the eldest son, and never take your eyes off of him.  Ever. 

6. Pool Cover:  

What uses have you for your mumu in the winter?  You cry, “Too cold, too breezy!”  Next time you don’t want to shell out the money for this “seasonal” attire, keep in mind that your mumu could be your pool’s guardian angel through the wintery months.  It can literally go right off your back, onto your pool, then right off the pool back onto your back.  It’s a vicious cycle, and while we’re on the subject, you might want to throw a rinse cycle in there at some point.

On a totally separate, but alliterative note, today, as part of my job duties, I pushed an office cart stocked with two crock pots and two more stove pots full of meatballs- one batch regular and one batch gluten free.  I pushed them across Market Street, one of the busiest streets in Philadelphia, in the midst of both Drexel and UPenn’s campus.  If I were ever considering meeting a dateable college student while strolling around Philly, my chances are now shot.  I dodged a SEPTA trolley car, other cars, other humans, and ran over my own toes twice.  People were mistaking me for a lunch truck.  I would say I felt like the pied piper, but I forgot my piccolo today.  

Here’s another alliteration: Mystery Monday.  What is my job? Tune in next time for more clues…

Happy Mystery Meatball Mumu Monday.

The book of Job(s)

I am an anomaly.  Not because I chose to go to private catholic college after 13 years of public education in a predominantly Jewish town.  Not because I only have one central incisor as a genetic defect.  And definitely not because I bought this shirt.

 I am an anomaly because I am grouped in as an over achiever who has currently achieved nothing.

As I sit here at my desk and blog, I can’t help but notice the incongruence between my summer and the summer of my corporate intern friends.  It is none of your business exactly what I do at my job, much like Chandler Bing, but I can tell you that I did not have to design a diverse portfolio, present anything to the board of directors or executive management, or travel.  I can also tell you that I did not get involved in the Colombian cartel.  My job responsibilities lie somewhere on that spectrum, and all I’ve achieved today was this blog post.  And I also found a quarter, so now I’m 25% of the way to a Twix bar.

Outside of this summer and my shortcomings on the ability to purchase candy bars, I am a textbook over achiever.  I serve on the executive board of my sorority and dance group, slave over homework and test scores, visit office hours frequently, and don’t sleep.  Ever. I had my eyelids cut off to prevent it, and so I could audition for the movie Gladiator.  As the days roll on, my peers update their social media and social circles with jubilant cries of full-time offers from corporate giants that make senior year obsolete on any occasion besides “dollar drink” Tuesdays, $3 Long Island Thursdays, and late night Domino’s pizza. I beg them to adopt me, for I have no such prospects for jobs in any near future.  

Help me, I’m poor.

Instead of wallowing in self pity and perceived failure, I have instead decided to become an innovator and think of my own jobs that I can promptly offer myself. 

  Here’s what I’ve come up with:

1.      Alternative Advice Column:  “Yo Rapricorn”-   Want “Dear Abby” to shut her sensitive pie hole?  Then you’ve come to the right place.  Come to my advice column, which I will title “Yo Rapricorn”.  This will combine life lessons from the street and the stern and insensitive nature of the Capricorn zodiac, presented in the flavor of the rhythm like Fat Man Scoop.  It would go something like this:

a.       Yo Rapricorn,

I’ve been really depressed lately because no one has ever asked me to a frat formal in Atlantic City.  I feel like I’m willing to be easy enough to be a good candidate.  I think I’ve demonstrated these qualities enough times at the bars for people to know that I’m down to fu…nnel a beer. How can I get there?

Sincerely,

Date Before I Graduate

                                Yo Date Before I Graduate  Pathetic Trick,

Atlantic City is for crack heads who don’t sleep in no king beds who got second-hand Keds and eat Trump’s moldy breads.  You wanna live the dream? Get out the frat scene, go nuts like Charlie Sheen, unpredictable like jelly beans.

Sincerely,

Rapricorn

2.       Olympic Commentator:  I am convinced you need not ever have participated in the sport to be considered for this job.  Rowdy Gains?  Is that your name or a questionable strip club in western Kentucky?  The only skill you need, besides Bob Costas’ Benjamin Button-like aging power, is the ability to come up with vague, unqualified, and overly obvious comments that go incognito as expert opinions.  I kid you not, Rowdy Gains at his finest on the men’s 4x100 free relay: “The Americans will need to swim their hardest and hope that the Australians are just average today.”  Actually, no the Americans were thinking of taking this race out at about 60%, with a build up to 70%, because they talked to the Australians earlier and confirmed that, yes, they were only in this to put forth an average effort.  On-field reported after Michael Phelps comes in fourth in the 400 IM: “How are you feeling about this race?”  WOW who taught that one interview skills?  Ryan Seacrest?  Please.  I think I can handle it.

3.       Barcelona Tour Guide: “And on your left is the sandwich shop I visited alone at 4 AM just before hurdling over the metro turnstiles because I forgot my card.  On your right you will see Plaza Universitat, the place I convinced my friend to be an acceptable area of public urination.  Straight ahead we will come to the beach where I was first ever offered street drugs 3 times in one night by a man of Middle-Eastern decent.  Our final stop is this Doner Kebab where we will break for lunch and questionable meat.  Thank you for joining us.”

4.       Heinz Ketchup Auditor:  I kid you not, I have a palate that can detect any imposters all over the globe.  Next time you think you’re getting Heinz, think again.  It is not with infrequency that restaurants refill the glass bottles with inferior brands such as Hunt’s or, dare I say, GENERIC BRANDS?  It’s absolutely repulsive and it is an epidemic that I have personally been a victim of from North America to Europe.  Luckily, I carry a spare stash of the good stuff with me wherever I go.  Teresa Heinz Kerry, I got your back.

So I may not have a job offer now…or tomorrow…or in a year from now.  You know who else didn’t have a job offer the summer before their senior year of college?  The McDonald brothers.  THE Burger King. Wendy.  I think we both know where my future is headed, and I’m ok with that.

Heinz Ketchup Auditor:  Bigger than Windows 7.

My New Job Title: Chief Executive Intern

Malcolm Gladwell, a great author for anyone interested in self-study psychology, writes of an example in his book, Blink, about snap judgments.  In short form, there was an experiment done where a world-renowned concert violinist played in a DC metro stop, dressed in street clothes, for hours and hours.  One person recognized him and his work and enjoyed a concerto she would normally be playing hundreds of dollars for. He made about 10 dollars that day, as you can imagine, because he was written off simply by appearance as a mediocre street performer.

It’s worth an analytical moment to acknowledge what it is that denotes power and prestiege in a work place beyond title. Say, for example, you were never told who the boss was or how the rankings went. On day 1 it was your job to organize that in your own head. What are the indicators?  Is it tone of voice?  Others’ opinions of the person? Office size?  I imagine it wouldn’t take long to figure it out.

Today, for me, the tables have turned.  I am exonerated by my appearance as a lone cubicle dweller. Here’s why:

Many times I am my own boss.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays, a series of events often leaves me in control of my work day when the 1^st, 2^nd, and 3^rd in command are all busy saving the world from epidemics…literally. I work in a small department, so I am 4^th and last in command.  There are several other students working here this summer that I rarely interact with.  That’s what happens when you get your own cubicle because you are the personal Microsoft office guru for the ever-learning 1^st in command.  They all share a table with their laptops while I live the cushy life, answering my personal office phone, which is usually my grandmother calling ever since my mother handed out the number like it was welfare.

In reality, I am no better than they are. I am probably less valuable, in fact.  They are all working on a study as pre-med and nursing majors, researching things on sites other than WebMD.  Excuse me, PowerPoints don’t just make themselves.

But a few actions of the day spoke volumes about the hierarchy.  Because of my office and abundant interaction with the full-time employees (by sheer coincidence and location), I am head of the interns.  Big Intern Kahuna.  iBoss. iChief. At least that’s what they think, because this was news to me until 3 hours ago.

Indicator #1:

One of the interns wandered into my cubicle and said my name.  She knows my name, and I do not know hers.  We have never been introduced and I had actually never seen her more than once around the office since she works in the other suite.  Since the incident, I have since asked for her name.

Indicator #2:

She asked my permission to use a computer in an empty office.  My first reaction, and what I said was, “Sure, go ahead!”  Until I realized that she just asked me permission to do something over which I had no power or concern, and yet there I was approving her request.

Indicator #3:

She thanked me for approving the request. Now it’s getting real.

Indicator #4:

She curtseyed and told me “Good day, Master”.  Just kidding.

Indicator #5:

Another intern asked me when he should get these back to me, when my boss told me to ask him to look something over that I had written.  Now I’m setting deadlines for these people. Then he thanked me. The thanking is really the key. 

This is why psychology is great.  This is also why you can occasionally find complete bimbos leading our nation’s corporate front-runners.  It seems to be all about appearances, confidence, and a little bit of going with the flow; improv , if you will.  All I had to do was sit in a secluded part of the office in a cubicle and have my name dropped by the boss lady a couple times to be deemed Head of Intern Activity. Maybe my new and sophisticated glasses frames helped too.  This seems much easier than trying to get ahead by making good grades and being “legit”. Do you concur?

Productive things to do when you have no "Projects" to do

Let this be a disclaimer that I use the word “productive” in an alternative sense.  No, this will in no way be productive for whatever your job may be.  I’m assuming that if you have free time on your hands, you also have paper cuts on your hands from all that envelope stuffing you finished.  And that you’ve completed the work set out for you.  Great stapling, you guys.  Keep it up.

I use “productive” as an encompassing term for “Not G-chatting, Facebook browsing, Facebook chatting, or tweeting”.  (Although, as an aside, I would like to state that, depending on whom you follow, I think reading you Twitter feed is an extremely productive break to take, as I’ve learned more relevant and globe-wide information from it in 30 seconds than I did watching “Action News”.  I’m sorry, but if you’re calling “Heat Means Business for Local Ice Company” a top story, you should change your name to “Action Snooze”.)  I also would put a hint of suggestion that it does not include creating office supply art.  These activities all involve a productive pursuit of information that can enrich your relationships, taste and knowledge… and not look blatantly obvious that you are in no way contributing to company advancement. 

1   1. Google your co-workers:  Before I go any further, I want to say this: Stop judging me for teetering on the edge of stalking.  I am well behind the line. I have a bone to pick with anyone who tells me that Googling people is stalking them.  This information is on the internet.  It is public domain. Stalking implies illicit behavior obtained in evasive and non-consensual ways. NEWSFLASH: If I can see it on the internet, I don’t need your permission to look. This is all fair game.  I know your first name, I know your last name, I know the alphabet, so I can type it into a search bar. Stop doing weird things in life if you don’t want Google to know about it.  If you won’t accept my compliment of how cute your 2010 holiday picture-card of you and your dog playfully wrestling in your living room is and you’re not going to appreciate the congratulations I’m giving you for coming in 54^th out of 60 in the Turkey Trot winter track classic, then you need an attitude adjustment. Or you need to start signing information release waivers/terms of privacy forms more carefully. 

Anyway, now that I’ve made my opinion on the matter clear, Googling your co-workers is a perfectly legal and engaging activity to do in your free time.  Chances are that they Googled you before your interview, too. (Have you checked what the internet is offering up about you lately? Run, don’t walk….) Forget stalking people on Facebook.  Facebook is amateur hour wearing rose colored glasses; it only shows what the page owner wants you to see. Google is the no-holds-bar jungle for the nitty-gritty details of the past and present. 

For example, I found out that one of my co-workers did some amateur modeling in 2008 and he has many glamour shots plastered on the internet (which would be perfectly legal for me to share on this blog post but I’m not going to because I’m learning to have internet manners…although if I did share it I would hope he would thank me for the free publicity). I also found out that another one is into theater and that he just recently starred in a community production of “Oklahoma!” .  Maybe if people knew he spent his evening hours in long rehearsals they would cut him some slack on coming in late. All I have to say is WOW! How was I supposed to know that these two nurses were so involved with the arts when you would never think of the two to go hand-in-hand?  And wouldn’t you agree that these are some pretty good leads for conversation that can develop into fruitful work-place friendships? There you have it: productivity.

“Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but I saw this picture, is that you on the runway?”

   2.  Merriam-Webster games: There are few things more unimpressive than someone with a menial vocabulary. Like…did you just skip that part of the SATs?  All pretentious sarcasm aside, it’s not a bad idea to expand your vocabulary as you begin to enter the adult world and recuperate the brain cells you lost to Pinnacle Whipped. But alas, this website is more than just a dictionary.  If you have anything more than an 10^th grade education, this website can boost your confidence and ego through their daily quizzes.  Quizzes range from trivia true-and-false to visual and verbal vocabulary tests and are different each time you take them. The best part is that, at the end, they tell you where you rank in the pool of quiz-takers overall and for your age.  So if no one’s telling you that you’re a genius at the office after you spent all that time alphabetizing the file folders, take this quiz to enrich your knowledge and feel a moment of triumphant superiority in your low-totem pole job.  Once again: productivity.

   3. Randora: Everyone listens to music in the office, as it is acceptable practice and links to  increased PRODUCTIVITY, what do ya know?!  Listening to music is office protocol and Pandora is the front-runner to provide that service.  It helps you listen to your favorite artists while learning a new song or two along the way.  Look how cultured you can become when a Spanish song pops on your Shakira radio! This is a game I created after my friend told me she was listening to Samantha Mumba Pandora radio.  I’m sorry, what? Do you know who Samantha Mumba is? (See: NOW  6)   If you don’t, then you obviously weren’t trying to be hipster and unique in third grade by doing your music class presentation on her instead of Britney or Christina…not that I did that…did you know she’s African-American from Ireland?

Moving on.  The point is that my first thought was, “What a random artist.  I wonder what comes on that station?” Well, from curiosity grew greatness: Randora. Pick the most random artist you can think of.  Type it in, and watch your music horizons expand to territories you would never guess.  You could even turn it into a “6 Degrees of Separation” type deal and try to get from the Baha Men to Mozart based on jumping from random station to random station.  

Baha Men Pandora Station Song Selections:

Eifel 65- Blue (da ba dee)

Smashmouth- I’m a Believer

Alvin and the Chipmunks- “Witch Doctor”

Haddaway- “What is Love?”

Queen- “We Will Rock You”.

And it just gets better and better…it’s on to Eifel 65 radio for me, right after a stroll down memory lane….

4 Things NOT To do in a Lonely Elevator

As a piggyback to my previous post, I would like to make it clear that a lonely elevator is not an excuse to abandon discretion.  There are a lot of things to consider when choosing the activity you were granted as the universe's way of rewarding you for changing every "&" to the word and in a 130 page document. Time and space are huge factors, but don't overlook things like, volume, that could lead to an embarrassing exit. 


Here are some suggestions of what should be saved for post-work hours: 

Pass Gas- In the words of the Austin Powers character Fat B*stard, “Everyone likes the smell of their own brand”.  It’s undeniable that you are much less bothered by your own slip-up than the wretched gassing of someone else.  But no matter how long you’ve been waiting to release something that is COMPLETELY NATURAL, the lonesome elevator is not a safe haven.  Even if you are so fortunate as to ride the elevator all the way to your destination without picking up passengers along the way, you can at least guarantee someone will be waiting at your stop in the lobby.  Passing gas and dashing out does not mean people won’t remember your face and start referring to you as the “fleeting fart”.  You’re better off emitting a silent but deadly in a crowded elevator. Whoever smelt it, dealt it.  Whoever denied it, supplied it.

Begin the process of re-tucking your shirt in- So you just checked yourself out and you realize that you could create the illusion of being 10 pounds lighter if you could only adjust your shirt tuck.  After all, 20-30 seconds is, once again, the PERFECT amount of time for such an activity.  So, alone in the elevator, you unbutton your pants and slide your hand around the brim of your tighty whities. All of a sudden, your car gets called to an unexpected floor just as you’re rounding out to the finish line of the backside.  But your belt is still open and your pants are still unbuttoned, and the 3-5 second door separation lag is not long enough.  The fact that, AT THE VERY BEST, the closest you will get to returning to normalcy is notching your belt as the doors open leaves the mind to wander to places you cannot recover from.  Save the re-tuck for the post-hand wash….let’s make that the pre-hand wash.

Sing- I’m going to keep this short.  Newsflash: If you can hear the little “dinging” signifying the passing of each floor from the elevator bay, you can hear anything. Don’t sing. People can hear you.  I don’t care if you’re Celine Dion.  There’s a time and a place, people.

Stand Extremely Close to the doors- So maybe you don’t like a lonely elevator because you’re a little claustrophobic, or it metaphorically reminds you of being stuck on a free-fall of being forever alone in life (seek therapy). You are itching to get off, and it now becomes socially acceptable to stand RIGHT up against the doors since no one else is there.  We’re talking close enough that you could lick the doors easier that you could lick your nose. But guess what?  When those doors open, someone else will most likely be standing just as close on the other side, eager to begin their moving-box journey.  Now you are faced with the inevitably awkward situations of being closer than you get to your grandmother, or worse, anticipating each other’s avoidance move, but then obviously moving in mirrored directions forcing the classic “Ooh! Ops! Haha. (pause, forced eye contact) Sorry!” as you scurry past.  The doors don’t taste good.  Back up.

4 Things to Do in a Lonely Elevator

I rant and rave everyday about the annoyance of having to be the one lucky person picked to share a seat on the entire train car.  I attest that it is always me because I am a normal-sized girl who looks comparatively more approachable than the tranny doing her (his?) make-up behind me. I enjoy my alone time as one in a seat for two and revel when I ride solo for the entire journey. 

After working in a one floor building last year, I am a newbie to the logistics and quirks of elevator riding this summer.  Standing in a box the size of my powder room, people dodging glances, the occasional whispered conversation that everyone can obviously hear, the etiquette of greeting and exiting with awkward head nods and muttered one-syllable salutations; the list goes on and on.  I won't even get started on the protocol of holding the elevator and the nasty glances given when you don't stick your hand in the now-7-inch gap because you want to keep your left hand intact for decoration. Too late, I got started. My point is that, shockingly, I find nothing more enjoyable in an office environment than riding the elevator alone. 

When I do get this rare treat, I seize every moment and make use of my time to do whatever I want behind the privacy of steel doors...as long as it can be done in 30 seconds or less.  Here are some activities I've enjoyed doing and recommend to make the most out of your personal elevator sanctuary: 

1. Stretch- Depending on how high up in a building you are, your decent could take 20-30 seconds from on-boarding to exiting.  Well guess what else is, coincidentally, effectively executed in 20-30 seconds? Stretching!! Pick one stretch, any stretch, and hold it while you descend from corporate altitudes down to the streets of the plebeians. Touch your toes.  Throw a leg up on the side balance bars and get that nose to your knee.  You’ll feel de-stressed and in much better condition for your city-walk saunter.

2. Sit- The beauty of the elevator, no matter how fast it may be, is that upon reaching the floor of your choice, there is a good 3-5 second lag time in elevator door separation.  This is obviously for safety reasons so you don’t jump the gun and go plummeting to your death like Zorg in Toy Story 2, although I think we’re all noting in our minds how it would be SO cool to ride atop the elevator car.  Just got off of a sweaty man sandwich on the subway? Don’t feel like standing? Take a load off. Sit down against the wall and enjoy your ride before you have to deal with the chair that must have been invented before the “lumbar” portion of the back was discovered.  You’ll have plenty of time to get up before any elevator intruders catch you.

3. Check Yourself Out- It should be a crime to have elevators without mirrors.  Want to increase office productivity, managers? Less mirrors in the bathroom, more mirrors in the elevators. It’s multi-tasking at its finest.  Forget the post-hand washing self-scrutiny.  That’s what the elevator ride is for. As stated previously, 20-30 seconds is enough time to do a whole lot, and that includes checking your hair, make-up, and beautiful self. Play around with sucking in your gut and adjusting your pants to just the right thinning illusion. Comb your mustache.  Smile, and tell yourself, “Hey handsome, you rocked that presentation on synergy!”
But don’t do it while other people are around! Come on, do you want to seem that vain?

4. Dance- Yeah, you can “dance” around in an elevator with moves like Jagger and a ridiculous grin on your face; how comically elementary of you.  This is serious. It mainly only works if you have been trained in dance, but an elevator is the perfect space for practicing essentials such as leg extensions, pirouettes, and small jumps.  Challenge yourself and try to do a small jump at the brink of your descent to get the sensation of achieving maximum height.  Don't sign up for a So You Think You Can Dance audition just yet, but all this practice may be good enough for the company talent show. 

I'm ridin' solo.