Found Objects

Another doodle from one of my co-workers.  This one’s by Monico, who’s a really rad artist.  Check out some of his stuff at his website.

It’s Funny ‘Cause It’s True

My roomate is on Match.com.

I Hope I Get E-Mails Like This At My New Job

Working Weekend

Meredith and I are working all weekend this weekend.  She’s working the worst shifts at the restaurant and I’m working this weekend long event for work.  We’ll both be standing the whole time, running right round baby right round like a record baby right round, round round and both be super stoked about life.  I love working through the weekend.  Dancing through life, just like these obgs!

Ease My Work Troubles, That’s What You Do

1:19 PMMeredith: why do i suddenly have the urge to bone rod stewart?

i have GOT to stop listening to the soft rock station at work

Melanie: ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

stop that right now

no

Meredith: i’m totally butt crazy in love with rod stewart

Melanie: that is never

ever

ok

he is gross

just look at that hair

1:21 PM Melanie: you’ve been hanging out with the obgs too long

Just Like That Dolly Parton Song

Jeffrey: hahah, well if my monotonous schedule is any indication 

 i’d say your sitch sounds more interesting

i’ve taken to taking myself on daily field trips to different floors to steal coffee and muffins from outside different conference rooms

woo take your shirt off

Warning: May Cause Office Rage

Meredith: and, although i hate this song:

i do really like this performance i’m so conflicted!

Melanie: i hate that you have shown me this song more than three times 

Meredith: HAHAHAHA

Melanie: because i hate this song so much

Meredith: i know that i’ve shown it to you at least once before

Melanie: well once felt like three times because it’s that bad

Meredith: but i needed to drive home the point that the performance is so good but this song is so bad

Melanie: i can’t even watch

Meredith: like, i want to take this song in my bare hands and strangle it

Melanie: and kick it in the balls

11:00 AM what are those dancers doing

Meredith: then take a shit on its face

Melanie: and then sleep with it’s mother for good measure

Meredith: and best friend

11:01 AM

Melanie: what are those dancers doing? there is too much shimmying for this song

Meredith: and why are there like TEN synthasizers?

i like the one guy playing 2 at once

Melanie: i don’t even think one is being played

 is that a keyboard guitar?

keytar?

Meredith: YES

where do we get a keytar?

Melanie:  i want a keyar and play it with my piano tie

Meredith: hahahahaha

omg there are no words for how angry i get when that song comes on the radio 

 it’s like that movie that was controversial back in the 50s or something, because whenever “jailhouse rock” would come on, the youth would riot that’s what “break my stride” is like everytime i hear that song i want to riot and break shit

Melanie: i will join you in that rebellion

Meredith: i picture them calling in building security picking you up, and you kicking your legs as they carry you out of the building

Melanie: and i’ll be convulsing foaming at the mouth allll because of that song

Meredith: “ain’t nothin’ gonna break my stride, ain’t nothin’ gonna hold me do-wn, oh nooo!”

ugh that song ruined my morning not even “let’s stay together” can save it

Melanie: oh shut up

shut up

 i’m going to listen to jordin sparks* to try to erase that other horse poop from my memory

 

*This song is good enough to be posted twice within a week.

Based on a True Email

To: Melsanie

From: thedith

Subject: Trapped in the Trash Closet

Today, at the restaurant, I got trapped in the trash room. Somebody had put the garbage can all the way in the back of the room, so I didn’t think it was a big deal when the heavy metal door slammed behind me while I traipsed over to empty out my trash. I tossed my trash bag in the bin, then groped my way through the pitch black darkness towards the door. Except, the handle wouldn’t budge. I was locked in the garbage room. In the pitch black.  The rancid smelling, pitch black.  

No one was around to hear me. I pounded on the door with my fist, nothing. I tried kicking the door loudly. Nothing. Iwas oddly calm about it. Like the time I got trapped in my apartment building elevator for 4 hours at 3 am in Paris. Like, sometimes you just can’t fight things. What are you gonna do? It’s an oddly Zen-like (okay, I don’t know what Zen means) but it’s an odd feeling to know that something kind of dreadful is happening, and yet you’re not at all panicked. What’s the point in fighting and panicking? What can you do?  Some people might call this giving up.  To those people, I shrug my shoulders. 

And then I thought about how great it would be if the restaurant didn’t have a host for like 30 minutes. The restaurant would descend into chaos  as managers, servers, bussers would be forced to scramble for the door each time a customer came to the host stand.  I was enjoying this fantasy as it played in my head. But then, before I could get too interested in this idea, the door swung open. It was my manager.
           “Oh, if I had known it was you, I would have kept you in there longer.”  He swung the door open, holding it open as I walked into the bright flourescent glare of the back office.   I shrugged my shoulders. Maybe he should have.  I wouldn’t have minded.  That’s Zen, right?

Oh, Hello There, Thursday

Sometimes, when I’m working with the OBG’s, listening to the soft rock radio station, I get a glimpse into what I’d be like had I come of age in the 70s/80s. 

Song: “One More Try” by George Michael.

What I’ve learned about 1980’s Meredith: I’d totally do George Michael.

Pipe Dreams

Meredith: why can’t this be us

always
complete with background music wherever we go
and wearing mumus instead of clothes
and looking fug with our breast implants and not caring

Melanie:  oh my god
i want it
i’m cuter than her
i want that
let’s be a biracial reality show
let’s make that hapen
*happen

Meredith: CAN we?!
can WE take miami?
 

Melanie:  who do i need to fuck to make that happen
i am not below that