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| This just made my fucking day. I'm doing a poster for a children's competition. The runner up prizes are ipod nanos. So, obviously, I needed a photo of one. Went onto www.istockphoto.com, and searched for "ipod nano". This is what it threw back, I swear, you can try it yourself.
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| Yet another sentence I probably shouldn't have said aloud, considering who works here:
Tell ya what. I'll stop cracking my knuckles, when you stop menstruating.
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| Now, really, they only have themselves to blame. I mean, asking my opinion on anything is risky ("Gary, quick question. Which font looks better here, futura or frutiger?" "Futura. Also, I can see right down your top"), but when it's sex talk... I mean come on, a chimp would know that getting me involved is a mistake.
It started when one of them sent around an email showing a bloke wearing a home-made spiderman outfit for role-playing. They all stood up, prairie-dog like, to crack jokes about it, then...
Aisling: Hey, I'd bet gary would look great in that.
(Couple of mock-horrified screams and lots of lascivious laughter)
Aisling: Gary!
Me: What?
Aisling: You ever wear anything like that?
(More howls of laughter. Yeah, laugh it up ladies)
Me: What, the spiderman retard? FUCK no. Worst I've ever done was to use The Immortal Line.
Aisling: The what?
Me: You know. "Who's yer daddy?"
Editors: ...
Me: I've only used it once, mind. Didn't quite get the reaction I'd expected.
Editors: ...
Me: Yeah, what with all the crying and the screaming and the "DON'T TOUCH ME". A bit of an over-reaction, I thought at the time. But, in my defence, I hadn't known her for very long at that stage. She hadn't yet told me she's an orphan.
Dropped jaws all round. It was spectacular.
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| Ugh. I have a ruptured eardrum at the moment. Major pain in the arse - I'll spend Christmas half deaf in one ear. Everyone in here knows it, too, not that I can expect any sympathy off them, it's just an added excuse to ignore them.
Still, it's totally worth the loss of hearing to be able to stand up and yell "Hey, I need some cotton wool to plug my ear, has anyone got a tampon I could borrow?"
For all their talk about how I need to be more sensitive, I didn't see anyone rooting around in their bags to help me.
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| Hmmm. So, the boss dropped in yesterday to show off the reason I've been doing her job since May (this one's named 'Cara', apparently), and, to my shock, her sense of humour seems to have improved. She could take a joke, and even dished out a couple.
She basically strolled into her old my office like she owns the damn place (which she doesn't, dammit, it's mine till she returns from maternity leave), and handed me a mini-human.
Boss: Hiya Gary. Here, have a baby.
Me: (holding her at arms length and inspecting her) Oooh. Veal!
Boss: (laughing) No, you can't eat her.
Me: Oh come on. I'll give you 20 euro a kilogram.
Boss: No deal.
Me: Aw. But that meat looks so very tender! What have you been feeding it?
Boss: Breast milk.
Me: (handing the baby back) And we're done here.
She asked how things were going in the office, if I'd tried to fire anyone, what books have gone out, what have come in, etc, etc. Then she dropped the bombshell - she's not returning till after Christmas. Dammit. That's another two months away.
I guess there's something about which side of the desk you're sitting on, which determines the abuser/abusee relationship, 'cos I got a lot more abuse off her than I dished out, which just isn't normal. For example:
Boss: So, how are things with you anyway? Non-work-related?
Me: Meh. Same as always. Still wake up pissed off that I hadn't died in my sleep.
Boss: No girlfriend at the moment?
Me: (As a JOKE, people, as a joke) Are you serious? You really think a girlfriend would let me leave the house with hair like this?
Boss: (ponders for a moment) No, you're absolutely right, good point.
Ouch :(
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