<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485</id><updated>2011-12-14T18:39:52.453-08:00</updated><category term='\'/><title type='text'>Now - Just Beyond Law School</title><subtitle type='html'>I was once a first year law student, hoping to get through. I didn't, I hated my law school, I wasn't enjoying ANYTHING about the experience and finally decided to stop throwing good money after bad.

So, now I am just a regular working girl in the DC metro area.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>162</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-7442587187325174851</id><published>2008-04-08T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T07:29:34.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At Work Tip: Volume 1 Scheduling Meetings</title><content type='html'>If you send around a meeting appointment that you say is urgent and we all say yes and then actually show up....don't blame us for getting pissed when you forget about it and don't show up.....especially not get angry when we wait 10 minutes and then get back to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU wanted the meeting, YOU know what is to be discussed and none of the rest of us care frankly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, when you sent around a 2nd meeting notice for later that afternoon despite the busy blocks on people's schedules and then proceeded to leave work 30 minutes before your 2nd meeting started....yea we were not impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So heres a tip:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- When you schedule a meeting show up.&lt;br /&gt;- If you schedule a meeting, and don't show up....apoligize.&lt;br /&gt;- If you schedule a meeting, you don't show up, and you don't apoligize do not then get angry when people give up and move on to something else instead of waiting for you to waltz in.&lt;br /&gt;-If you do all of the above anyhow (despite the warnings) do not schedule a 2nd meeting at another time when you wont be showing up.&lt;br /&gt;- If you do schedule such a 2nd meeting, and don't show up, and also don't apoligize do not be surprised when future meeting requests come back checked with a "no".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...simply...show up to meetings you schedule, don't schedule meetings when you wont be there, and apoligize if you find yourself acting like a douche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-7442587187325174851?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/7442587187325174851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=7442587187325174851&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/7442587187325174851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/7442587187325174851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/04/at-work-tip-volume-1-scheduling.html' title='At Work Tip: Volume 1 Scheduling Meetings'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-3875755023075574107</id><published>2008-04-03T12:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T12:14:56.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Grace</title><content type='html'>I got a comment on my blog today that just made me laugh out loud. Grace writes,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Grace said...&lt;br /&gt;You're an arrogant, rude little girl.No wonder you couldn't get through law school."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grace, I must know....what so infuriated you over my post? Was is that I don't enjoy arriving at work covered in the beverage I meant to drink on the way to work thus insulting people who enjoy looking they don't know how to drink from a cup properly? Was this the arrogant part? Well, I guess it is a little high and mighty of me to think that I should be given my beverage in a condition that I can actually drink, how DARE I??? No really, how fucking dare I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And which part of it was rude? Asking the woman nicely that she clean the cup and place a new lid on it? How on earth is that rude? Is it rude to make any request at all of the people at McD's? Should people stop asking for extra napkins, sauce containers and for replacement food if they were given the wrong thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am really giggle over the last part of this......now THIS incident is the reason I could not finish law school? It couldn't have been that law school was literally sucking the will to live out of me, killing my spirit, and did not interest me in the way that accounting and HR do......but it was because I'd like my beverage served to be in a cup without a hole in it, with a lid on it securely, and without liquid gushing out of the top/sides of it? REALLY???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please Grace come back and explain, I must know more. Perhaps you hold the key to my success in life. Coach me oh wise one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-3875755023075574107?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/3875755023075574107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=3875755023075574107&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3875755023075574107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3875755023075574107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/04/poor-grace.html' title='Poor Grace'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-3779029089750457588</id><published>2008-03-27T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T13:06:55.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work Work Work Blah Blah Blah</title><content type='html'>The lack of posts can be mainly blamed on an overload of work. Wouldn't you know it, but just as I am catching up the end of the 1st quarter rolls around and a whole mess load of closing out this, and reporting that must happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lets take some time to reflect on the first quarter....how was everyone's January to March?  Did you do anything exciting? Did you do anything new? Did you accomplish anythig?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exciting....  I had the very best meal of my life at MiniBar, a teeny tiny 6 seat restuarant in a restuarant inside of Cafe Atlantica. It was absolutely delicous, and if I were I food reviewer I would rave and rave. It was so much fun, basically you get 30 courses of mini foods, all sorts of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New..... Yea I did do something new....all season long I had been really enjoying the Patriots tremendous winning streak.....which was shattered, resulting in much saddness for all. It totally sucked, but hey it was definitely "NEW" since they decided they'd like to try out loosing at the Super Bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accomplish..... I cant say a new job because I got this one during the 4th quarter of 2007. But I have managed not to get fired, not to mess up any huge projects, and the such. I've also accomplished much drinking.....does that actually count as an accomplishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....3 people still reading along...whats up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-3779029089750457588?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/3779029089750457588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=3779029089750457588&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3779029089750457588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3779029089750457588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/03/work-work-work-blah-blah-blah.html' title='Work Work Work Blah Blah Blah'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-2179907150952819831</id><published>2008-03-14T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T09:08:56.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Hate Salespeople</title><content type='html'>I know that sales is a job just like any other, and we actually NEED them here to sell our product, do demos, negotiate contracts and the such. But really do these folks have to be such total douche bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an attempt to be a good employee I always answer their emails, give them the info that they ask for (even if they could easily get it themselves), and so on. But at this point, it really takes up a lot of my time, time that should be spend actually doing the work I was hired for. On top of that, I begin to get a little more and more bitter at all of the perks they recieve, while seemingly doing so much less work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started when they had their annual sales conference in a location on a the beach, where they and their spouses recieved airfare, hotel, food, activities, golf, and so on for a week to attend this meeting. The rest of us got to be back here, in frigid ass semi-frozen tundra that was the DC metro area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next they were given a cruise for free, also with flights, food, transfers, activities included, also with their mates attending. This was not a meeting, so they could not even play it like they were working. The bitterness definitely grew, this was after they;d only been back in the office a week. I haven't had a vacation in I dont even know how long, but here they get 2 free on the company while we don't so much as get the day before Christmas off. Real nice, a great way to build team spirit. And yes I know I am being childish and petty, if I were a saleperson I would get it too, but I am not so I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now in view all of these perks they get over me I really start to find myself feeling less and less chartible towards them and my will to want to help them when I don't technically have to and they could do it themselves really has faded to basically nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 2 here that I actually like as human beings, and they never ask me for anything if they can do it themselves, they do their own work because in the end I wont be getting a penny of their commision, or a flight to Florida for anything I do. I'll just get my paycheck (which really is good enough for me, I just dont need these other perks flaunted in my face thank you very much). The others, I wouldn't care if they left yesterday. Here is a brief list of why I hate our salespeople.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. They did not take to heart that saying that "A lack of planning on your part does not equal an emergency on my part". So, a few weeks back when a salesman ran up to me 5 minutes before quitting time demanding I pull all sorts of information for him because he had a dinner meeting and needed it to give to the client, I was none to sympathetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How long ago did you plan this meeting?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"About a week back" says the out of breath salesman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well you should have put your request in them, I am going home at its xx:xx o'clock, so I wont be able to help you until tomorrow, You can get x info and x info by yourself, the rest your regional manager can pull for you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But....I can't ask him, its too close to the meeting, can't you just do this for me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry I've got plans, I am out for the day, I'll see you tomorrow" as I put my coat on, turn off my computer and gather my belongings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't actually have plans, I am just a bitch. I wont be staying an hour late because this asshole didn't ask me for something in time and now doesn't want to ask his manager because he'll get in trouble. Seriously, you want to make an upsell YOU work for it, I dont get a penny extra for going out of my way to help you out. So now, I sure did enjoy sitting on the couch watching TMZ while you must have been getting reamed out for waiting until the last minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Blatant rudeness. Now, these folks have to be people people because they manage to sell stuff to other people right? Why then is it that they cannot say a simple Please and a Thank You? When you do something for them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It drives me up a wall.....you people are not my supervisors or bosses in anyway so would it kill you to change, "Get me this now!!!!" and than snatching it from me and walking off with a grunt to "I am in a tight spot, could you please pull this for me?.... Oh thank you so much!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My working theory is that these guys are total douche bags and they spend so much time surpressing their horrible personalities to make nice nice with the clients that they simply cannot restrain their natural asshole any longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. FUCKING RESPOND TO EMAIL....thats right email. When I send you an email asking for a client contact or something only you would know, actually answer me back. You'd have a total heart attack if I didn't answer you back in 30 minutes, so why is it that I have to send you reminder after reminder to get you to give me one phone number or email address. Are you that busy and important? I really don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh this makes me appreciate the 2 good ones so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Love-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-2179907150952819831?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/2179907150952819831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=2179907150952819831&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2179907150952819831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2179907150952819831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-i-hate-salespeople.html' title='Why I Hate Salespeople'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-5351682224971662269</id><published>2008-03-03T07:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T07:24:32.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep Your Filthy Cup To Yourself!</title><content type='html'>I managed to insult a McDonald's employee this morning, and while I can sympathize with their position, I am afraid I still don't feel as if I was "in the wrong".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Background: I drive to work in Tysons, there is a McD's between my home and the highway (the point of no return and no exit). sometimes I stop there before work for an ice coffee or a sweet tea. During the past I have been handing dripping cups, cups with the lids off, and so on. The final straw of course was the time I was given a cup, with an actually HOLE in it. I thought the thing was just dripping, but no.....after getting halfway to work it was clear all the liquid the cup once had was spilled all over my car and cupholder and myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have taken to inspecting the cups I get from there before taking them into my car. Not a long drawn out 55 point inspection, but just a glance to make sure there isn't a hole and the lid is on, is not broken, and that it is not overflowing all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning, I ordered my sweet tea, I drove around and was handed a cut that was activitly dripping, from the top, where it was pretty managled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ms. Drive Tru Lady....can you LOOK at what you're handing me please? Would anyone want a dripping, sticky, dark colored beverage leaking from a cup on the way to work? No, no one would like that....so if you see it (and you must because you're holding it out to me) why not just fix it instead of hoping I will take it anyway and not bother wit arguing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I didn't just take it, I looked at it, looked at my nice clean light colored pants, and asks for it to be cleaned and a new cover placed on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You sighing, dumping it in the garabage and starting over did not really impress me. I am not the pain here, if you'd not make a huge mess of the cup, I'd take it. I get a little drip or two....but there should not be so much beverage it leaks out of the poorly put on and partially damaged lid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank you for making me a new one, and handing me a clean cup....but no thank you for snorting at me and rolling your eyes. You were actually the employee that handing me a cup with a HOLE in it, using a napkin to cover the hole, so I could not see it until it was waaaay too late. So excuse me if I don't exactly trust your beverage containment skills&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-5351682224971662269?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/5351682224971662269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=5351682224971662269&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5351682224971662269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5351682224971662269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/03/keep-your-filthy-cup-to-yourself.html' title='Keep Your Filthy Cup To Yourself!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-2634286058975529102</id><published>2008-03-01T06:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T06:32:24.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Are a Grown Ass Adult!</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I think that some people need to be reminded that they are in fact grown, and need to begin acting that way at some time. Perhaps the problem is that these people feel that they are entitled to be coddled until they die, or maybe they don't even realize that they are acting out because their behavior seem normal to them. So, I figured I would put together a small handy guide to figure out whether you are acting like a petulant child, or actually living life as intended, as a functioning member of society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If you have one or more children and you do not know who his/her/their father is.....something has gone awry in your life. No I am not calling your offspring bastard children, and yes I know you love them and are so happy they are here. What I am saying is having a baby and not knowing who the father is, well thats not GOOD....actually its BAD, thats the wrong thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you react to this happening in your life by examining your behavior, slapping on a condom or popping a pill, and working to improve your situation....you are acting like an adult...go you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you react to this by having more children with different men, perhaps several....you need to grow the fuck up, seriously. Get your act together, take a break from the casual sex, and just take care of you responsibilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If you are 30 years old, you have a college degree, and your parents financially support you.....thats not good. You have all the tools to be a fully functioning adult....please do so. This is made even more pathetic if you're married, and especially if you have children of your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're 30 and you have a good education, you are not underprivileged with no skills....why don't you go get a job, live somewhere you can afford and budget carefully to meet all your own financial obligations? Its really not that tough, you should have been practicing for years, but you can start now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living with your family (you know the one you started because thats what adults sometimes do?) in your parents home because you "can't afford" your own is BAD, it is not the norm, and it shows a significant failure in some way of being a functioning member of society. Your parents already raised their children, why don't you go do the same? Please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. This goes along with the previous bullet, if you think  that you are poor because you can't make your rent payment but you have a new car, all the video game system, new mp3 players, and so on....you are retarded. Stop buying junk and paying your bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an adult you make money, and then you chose how to spend it. Grown ass adults pay their important bills FIRST (aka rent, insurance, car payment, food, and so on) and then if there is money left over save some and spend some on non-essential fun things. People who should technically be adults according to age but who don't act that way, spend it on crap they don't need first and then cry poor and are mystified that they don't have enough money left over for a place to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen....don't be fucking stupid. You NEED a place to live....pay for that first you moron, that way you can house all your expensive junk. Also, if 50% of your income goes to your car payment, thats BAD.....you should not have bought that car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this has been helpful, but I know the idiots I have described wont see themselves in this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year - (who has heard one too many sob stories where the "victim" was really an active participant in making their own woe)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-2634286058975529102?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/2634286058975529102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=2634286058975529102&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2634286058975529102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2634286058975529102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/03/you-are-grown-ass-adult.html' title='You Are a Grown Ass Adult!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-2027415423859720981</id><published>2008-02-29T09:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T09:28:02.312-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes - It IS Your birthday!!!</title><content type='html'>Some people might disagree....but I think by the time you're out in the working world, and you're say 24, your birthday sort of ceases to be a big deal. Sure I like to go out and celebrate, maybe invite some friends to dinner or a bar, maybe get some presents and the usual $100 check from my parents, you know commiserate on being a year older and closer to renting a car with no extra under 25 fee (only 6 more months until I'm 25, where if I were a car I'd qualify for antique tags).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not this chick at work though. No....her birthday is a HUGE DEAL. I don't even know when most of my coworker's birthdays are, and I don't care (well, unless we get cake or something, then I do care). She began talking about her birthday to anyone who would listen last week (her birthday was yesterday), she took the day of her birthday off (hey, fair enough), she threw *herself* a huge party and invited everyone and badgered them endlessly to come because its MY BIRTHDAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Literally every other work out of her month was birthday, birthday birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today she comes in the day after, and she's officially 24.....wooohooooo. Now please shut the fuck up, seriously please just stop, right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does it make me a bad person that I think this person is going to be taught a lesson (in how to not be a completely obnoxious bitch)....because when she left for lunch about 15 minutes ago the poor girl who sits next to her took a poll to see who was going to her party tonight, and can't find one single person who is.  I would go....but I sort of hate her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lesson here folks: No one but you and maybe your family and a best friend or two care one little teeny bit about your getting older. In fact, its stupid that you're so excited about it. Also, generally talking about the same subject over and over and over again with no break, especially when no one but you cares will not win you any friends. And then no one will even pretend to care enough to go out and go to your party to commemorate the day of your birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-2027415423859720981?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/2027415423859720981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=2027415423859720981&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2027415423859720981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2027415423859720981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/02/yes-it-is-your-birthday.html' title='Yes - It IS Your birthday!!!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-3007912300889226990</id><published>2008-02-25T09:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T09:37:09.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uninspired....</title><content type='html'>I have things I'd like to write about, but it seems weird in my own old school blog, I've thought of starting a new one more about work and life in the DC metro area :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much has been happening lately, Work is going and busy, there is the usual torrent of incompetant coworkers, entitled customers, and crazy higher ups that there always seems to be no matter the company or the position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Married life is going again, we haven't filed for divorce, so consider that one a success :) We seem to be getting along well and all that good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I am basically just sitting around at home doing old lady style activities (knitting, watching TV, reading, and so on).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just somehow uninspired to rant about the bitchy girls who sit near me, or the crazy VP, or the accidently porn.....sigh. I really did used to enjoy the online blogger community, I just feel after leaving law school I don't really belong anymore :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-3007912300889226990?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/3007912300889226990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=3007912300889226990&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3007912300889226990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3007912300889226990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/02/uninspired.html' title='Uninspired....'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-2598346811413759845</id><published>2008-01-02T08:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T08:33:28.747-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ohh....I Have a Blog.....Weird</title><content type='html'>So...I am a major slacker, I guess my interest in blogging comes and goes. But with the New Year comes renewed motivation to write and share my vents....mainly so my head wont blow up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you all had a great Holiday season. Coming up this year:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Why you don't want to piss your accountant off&lt;br /&gt;2. How being an idiot means you pay double&lt;br /&gt;3. Why I hate my law school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lastly....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Bitter Jappy girls who want to get married but can't because no one will ever love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise to write soon. But you all know what a blog promise is worth. Basically nothing :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-2598346811413759845?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/2598346811413759845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=2598346811413759845&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2598346811413759845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2598346811413759845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2008/01/ohhi-have-blogweird.html' title='Ohh....I Have a Blog.....Weird'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-1328112299713343715</id><published>2007-11-06T10:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T10:44:04.772-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='\'/><title type='text'>Do Not Block The Fucking Box...Idiot</title><content type='html'>People.....this isn't fucking hard to understand, but I suppose the terms used might confuse you. You know when you drive through an intersection in a busy area and there is a sign that says, "Don't Block the Box"......that isn't just a crazy random sign, it means something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I'm from we don't call it "the box" we refer to it as the intersection...however, it doesn't take one (well one with a reasonable amount of brain cells left) long to realize that the "the box" refers to the intersection and that is what the sign is asking you not to block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that we have established that box=intersection (look at the lines on the 4 way intersection, it looks like a box.....or at least thats where I think that term came from...)..... lets move on to the "do not block part".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically.....if there is not room for your car to roll completely *through* the intersection, you should not proceed through the light until there is room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this might mean sitting at a green light, and yes idiots will honk, but if you do decide to go, you'll simply prevent the people on the intersecting road from passing by you and increase the chance that you will be mowed down by a crazy metro bus driver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....don't get into the intersection if you cannot make it all the way across and fit behind the car you're following.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-1328112299713343715?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/1328112299713343715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=1328112299713343715&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/1328112299713343715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/1328112299713343715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/11/do-not-block-fucking-boxidiot.html' title='Do Not Block The Fucking Box...Idiot'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-7559081132193482882</id><published>2007-10-23T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T08:35:41.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clients Are Idiots</title><content type='html'>Dear Clients,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand that you have a lot going on, what with running that business of yours. I get that, I really do....we're busy here as well. However, why oh why is it that today, over a month past the deadline for the very last &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;extension&lt;/span&gt; you were able to get for your 2006 income taxes (yes, 2006), do I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; a telephone call from you and have the following exchange:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless Client: Hey First Year, I finally decided to remove my head from my ass and try to find the information you need to do our 2006 taxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, that is great...I do hope you are aware that at this point they are past due and will incur a penalty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless: That is outrageous! That is why I pay people to do my taxes for me! Why don't I just do them myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: You can do them yourself if you'd like, but you'll still have to pay the penalty. Simply hiring someone to do your taxes, and then not allowing them to actually do your taxes along with cancelling every meeting we're made to go over them does not count in the eyes of the IRS. Is there anything else I can help you with since you'd rather file your return yourself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless: Well, aren't you going to help me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I would be happy to help you please send over x, y and z.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless: Oh....none of the years sales/expenses/data/anything is in our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Quick Books&lt;/span&gt; file yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, we can do that, but it will take about a week for your return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless: But they are do NOW.....you need to do this today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: No, they were due on April 15&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and then again on September 15&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, now they are past due and will be past due next week as well. It is 4pm and I am afraid I cannot drop work for other clients to do your data entry. If you would send the files over we would be happy to help you out and generate your returns early next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless: :::::mutters about how lazy I am and why does he pay anyone to do something he could do himself:::::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: As I said, please feel free to do the data entry yourself this afternoon and then send over x, y and z and we can generate the returns later on this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clueless: But I don't have time for that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Exactly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Argh&lt;/span&gt;, what is that inane saying.... "Bad planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So dear client, while I prefer to while all my returns on time, apparently you are too lazy/stupid/disorganized/whatever to do so. That doesn't mean I am going to drop whatever it was I was doing in order to help you. Turn around for a corporate return could be very quick, especially if you don't act like a jerk to the person who you want to help you, however this assumes you have actually been entering all your payments and incoming money for the year....you know like most business do, but if you haven't and expect to dump a pile of invoices, bank statements, deposit slips, invoices and whatever else on my desk 1.5 hours before closing time, do not even expect me to look at it until I do all the things I prefer to do (as in not data entry) first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, when you say you could just do it yourself....this isn't a threat to me. I don't get extra money for dealing with you or for preparing your returns. You were acting like an asshole on the phone, did you think I would be groveling for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;privilege&lt;/span&gt; of preparing your returns and organizing your mess and dealing with your screaming self on the phone for a week. No....I don't care if you go elsewhere. You are a shitty client.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-7559081132193482882?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/7559081132193482882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=7559081132193482882&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/7559081132193482882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/7559081132193482882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/10/clients-are-idiots.html' title='Clients Are Idiots'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-5220874858631132791</id><published>2007-10-15T05:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T05:55:27.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing An Essential Piece of Information</title><content type='html'>Dear City of Alexandria,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand that once and awhile you need to repave and repair your streets. Thats great, we all like a nice smooth pothole free street to drive down, well unlike you do a shitty job. However, when you close down a large stretch of a major connecting street and you put those nice little helpful detour signs up, you really ought to have an actual detour route.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drive up Closed Street to get to work as usual and see that with no warning (so I cannot turn down one of the other connecting streets) that the road is closed, I can continue no longer. But alas, I think its OK....here is a detour sign pointing left, the only way we can turn with all the great one ways in this area. So I turn left and look for another sign pointing me to the detour. There is no sign. Instead I am now driving around a residential neighborhood with a line of other commuters filled with one way streets and seemingly no way to get back unto a connector street that does not invole the closed street. We cannot get back out unto the main road because the one ways make it impossible, We cannot get to a connector street because the residential streets are all dead ends or circles of some sort. So we all drive around in a comical circle until the first person in line decides to just cut through a large day care (yes, very safe for all those little kids being dropped off) center's grounds, drive over the grass, over a curb, and about 10 feet down a one way to finally get to freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I of course followed him.....but really what else what I going to do? Continue to circle the neighborhood? Park my car where I am not allowed to and walk the 1.5 miles to work? Give up, park the car, roll over and die? No really....I am curious because you really could not have planned that worse if you had tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-5220874858631132791?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/5220874858631132791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=5220874858631132791&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5220874858631132791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5220874858631132791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/10/missing-essential-piece-of-information.html' title='Missing An Essential Piece of Information'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-8081261428934555504</id><published>2007-10-12T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T14:32:38.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am Alive</title><content type='html'>Well....I suck at keeping up with my blog. But the thing is I feel like sort of a fraud posting here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that I will be taking a nice long break from law school. I HATED my law school....I hated their freaking humanitarian efforts and obsessions with the repressed of the world (nothing against the repressed of course). So I have been trying to decide whether I should keep posting in this blog or simply start a new one, leave this one up for prosterity and have a link.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone is still reading and has an opinion just give me a holler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, the wedding was awesome :) I'll post some pictures (well without faces of course, it will be the great headless wedding, maybe a bit too creepy......) when I finally get the CD in from our photographer. But we have a shit load of fun, the food was great, there were plenty of booze and we danced all night. All of the people I hoped would be there were there (well almost.....but distance is hard sometimes) and hopefully they all had fun :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year- or rather.... No Year-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should call this blog, "now what?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-8081261428934555504?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/8081261428934555504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=8081261428934555504&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8081261428934555504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8081261428934555504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-am-alive.html' title='I am Alive'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-413824054690605001</id><published>2007-08-22T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T10:34:09.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Part of "I Don't Care" Don't You Understand?</title><content type='html'>I am planning my wedding from many states away. I don't care about the details...in the end me and Mr. First Year will end up married, I have a busy job and a busy life and I simply do not have time to micro-manage things to the levels that many Brides seem to feel is necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, when my florist called me today to ask me some inane question about some stupid flower that I could care less about on my centerpieces, because he had woken up in the middle of the night thinking about I couldn't help but laugh. Listen...you are the professional, I told you what I wanted and liked....just do it. Don't ask me, just do. Please....Pretty please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Likewise with the caterer who called me today all in a tizzy because the silver she was planning on using wasn't the exact stupid pattern I picked out however long ago. My questions... "I picked out silverware? Will there still be forks and knives to eat with" "yes? Well then I don't care". "Oh....it will have 3 'V's instead of one.....the horrors!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly people...the wedding is in 9 days, literally.....leave me alone. Ask my mom, she cares so much more then I do. Or better yet, just don't tell me. I guarantee you that on the day I marry my sweetie the last thing I am going to be noticing is the exact type of flowers in my centerpieces, or the lines on the silverware you will be using. And really....I am sort of scared of the type of people who do care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just keep repeating to myself that it is almost over, its almost over, its almost over.       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On some fun news....my work email was changed to reflect my new last name....how fun :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-413824054690605001?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/413824054690605001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=413824054690605001&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/413824054690605001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/413824054690605001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/08/what-part-of-i-dont-care-dont-you.html' title='What Part of &quot;I Don&apos;t Care&quot; Don&apos;t You Understand?'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-8075585577328766999</id><published>2007-08-19T09:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T09:25:58.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stressed the Fuck Out</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the lack of posts everyone.....my wedding is in less then 2 weeks and I have been a stress case. My caterer decided to cancel 4 weeks before the wedding, we are dealing with Mr. First Year's family drama,  and trying to plan everything from out of town seems to be a lot harder then I had thought. I really just can't wait for this whole thing to be over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. First Year is cool as a cucumber of course because he has done nothing.....arrrrghhhhhh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-8075585577328766999?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/8075585577328766999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=8075585577328766999&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8075585577328766999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8075585577328766999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/08/stressed-fuck-out.html' title='Stressed the Fuck Out'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-716865867868060885</id><published>2007-08-08T06:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T06:26:36.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>George Bush: Masturbation Crusader</title><content type='html'>We all know right wing Christian nutbags hate the idea of people masturbating...but did you know how passionately George Bush hates that people pleasure themselves? In fact, he feels it unamerican!!!! If you masturbate you let the terrorists win. Apparently, Democrats MAKE people masturbate....oh dear god!!! Stop defiling your bodies. In that light, I simply must share this link with you.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.whitehouse.org/initiatives/purity/index.asp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="regular"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(and yes I know this is a joke site....but I still fucking love it. I can see this coming out of the "Decider's Mouth"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year :)   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-716865867868060885?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/716865867868060885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=716865867868060885&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/716865867868060885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/716865867868060885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/08/george-bush-masturbation-crusader.html' title='George Bush: Masturbation Crusader'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-4251857524822336264</id><published>2007-07-25T12:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T12:42:47.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People You Frustrate Me! (Grocery Store Addition)</title><content type='html'>What the hell is wrong with people lately? There seems to be a spree of raging assholism going around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday, I was at the grocery store (usually not the best place to find examples of people actually behaving themselves and people were just on a roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I get out of my car to go into the store. I am walking up the aisle when a woman who just finished loading her car and placed her cart directly behind the vehicle 2 down from hers. To make this act of utterly laziness and ass-y-ness even better.....the car behind which she placed her cart had it's reverse lights on! He was about to back off and this fucking bitch plops her cart right next to him???? If the man hadn't immediately jumped out of his car to move the cart to the corral a mere 15 feet away I would have just taken it for shopping.....but really. WTF??? I do have to say that the man showed restraint. I would have probably placed the cart back behind her cart and proceeded out of the lot. Maybe while saying, "Oh, I am afraid you mistook the back of my car for a cart corral....its right over there. Here you go".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.     Safely inside the store and away from the cart-crazies I go to the produce section. As I am selecting corn (and I admit, I peek under the silk a little to made sure theres nothing wrong with it) a lady walks up, begins ripping off large sections of husk, and then throwing the corn back onto the display. There was nothing wrong with the corn, except now no one else will want to buy it, it will dry out, and the store will need to throw it away. Oh....and throwing the husk trash into the trash can directly next to the display for just such a purpose was too hard for her. She just threw the husks back unto the display too. Reaaaaal nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  This wasn't a specific incident, I have seen it before and I have seen evidence of it multiple times. But....people don't eat food from the grocery store IN the grocery store. It's not a buffet. I can understand grabbing a bottle of water or soda if you're thirsty, drinking it while you're shopping, and then pay for it when you check out. But things like bananas handfuls of grapes, packaged snack goods all need to be paid for. Don't just take the wrapper/bag/peel and throw in somewhere in the store, thus effectively stealing. And to the people who let their kids steal a snack from the grocery store----real nice lesson you're teaching them. Good job, you're right in the running for parent of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. How about people who don't understand that while you are checking out it is actually *your turn* and they should wait in line to conduct their businesses? I ran into one of these on Friday. I was getting my items rungs up and an elderly couple approaches the register behind me (There was no line). Instead of waiting patiently for my transaction to be complete they started talking to the cashier and asking her questions. She tried to put them off, but they just became more irritated. I threw a few glares in their direction as they were standing too close to me and where trying to basically shove me out of the area you stand in to pay.  Finally the gentleman waves some product and loudly asks, "Price Check This!!!!!!!" The cashier explained she couldn't price check until my transaction was done.......the couple snorts, rolls their eyes and continues to try to infringe on my personal space. You people suck....wait your turn.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else have any fun grocery store stories?   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year- :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-4251857524822336264?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/4251857524822336264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=4251857524822336264&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/4251857524822336264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/4251857524822336264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/07/people-you-frustrate-me-grocery-store.html' title='People You Frustrate Me! (Grocery Store Addition)'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-8450777783936226108</id><published>2007-07-20T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T19:06:49.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Had to Share- Pictures a bit graphic...</title><content type='html'>OK....I have never been a fan of Walmart....in fact I don't shop there and haven't for years. Their stores are horrid, their products are crap, the other customers are filthy trash that refuses to reign in their children/various people on electric scooters and so on. But really....you should be able to go buy a cheapo pair of flip flops to wear once or twice on vacation to throw away after without them burning and permanently scaring your feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a look.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.lamanaphotography.com/walmart.htm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-8450777783936226108?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/8450777783936226108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=8450777783936226108&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8450777783936226108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8450777783936226108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/07/had-to-share-pictures-bit-graphic.html' title='Had to Share- Pictures a bit graphic...'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-6794365124969034965</id><published>2007-07-17T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T08:34:35.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Employment in the First Year?</title><content type='html'>Hi helpful folks..... in a recent comment someone asked:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"perhaps you have already encountered a dilemma I have. I know that 1L's are prohibited from discussing employment until after Dec. 1st, but my current boss wants to introduce me to some attornies in our field. Can I talk to them to network without providing a resume or discussing possible summer employment (which, ostensibly, is why I AM actually talking with them)?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wondered if anyone else had an answer for her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My understanding was that first year law students (other then part timers, who are allowed to work and usually do) were not allowed to work, but I am not aware of any rules regarding simply networking with people you already know. I mean if your boss wants to introduce you to some contacts for possible hire the summer after the first year, that isn't exactly like making an employment decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is the rule against discussing employment only to prevent the career center from sending first year students on interviews and the such?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weigh in if you know more then me :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-6794365124969034965?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/6794365124969034965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=6794365124969034965&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/6794365124969034965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/6794365124969034965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/07/employment-in-first-year.html' title='Employment in the First Year?'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-8625744934707197932</id><published>2007-07-02T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T06:41:52.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Learn To Merge!</title><content type='html'>Fellow DC area drivers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have noticed that we seem to be having some type of problem, relating to "merging" unto highways. What happens is this....some cars are already driving *on* the highway, they are travelling at a high speed, usually 60-80 mph and there are other cars who are driving on an "entrance ramp" and attempting to get *unto* the highway. The right thing to do would be for the people on the entrance ramp is to attempt to get themselves up to highway speeds, find an opening in traffic and get unto the highway without forcing others to slam their breaks. The drivers *on* the highway and in the lane to be merged have been warned about the merge via signage, and they should try to space themselves in such a way that other cars are able to join the highway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, that is not what is happening a lot of the time. So for you, "challenged" drivers I offer the following advice of what NOT to do....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. When entering the highway do not refuse to go over 20 mph. That is a dangerously slow speed of travel when entering the highway, the other cars are going 60 mph (at least) and by entering the highway at 20 you may cause an acident, not only for you but for all the people trapped behind you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If you're driving on the highway and you don't want someone to merge in front of you, might I suggest getting into a different lane? Because those cars on the entrance ramp ARE going to be merging on the highway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If you have relegated yourself to the lane that will be merged with, please refrain from driving directly next to cars from the entrance ramp...you know the game where you slow down when they slow down and speed up when they speed up, in what seems to be some type of passive aggressive show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on guys, I believe in you, you can do this.... to review: Speed up when entering the highway, space yourselves for a smooth merge, if you don't want to let cars in please move to another lane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.....Jenny.... I had no idea I was quoted in the Washington Post....care to pass the info on?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-8625744934707197932?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/8625744934707197932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=8625744934707197932&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8625744934707197932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8625744934707197932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/07/learn-to-merge.html' title='Learn To Merge!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-6967789404418779582</id><published>2007-06-21T11:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T11:37:57.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hater</title><content type='html'>Is it possible to actually hate an event? I mean, I know you can hate a person, hate an object, hate an activity, but an event? Your own event?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe I currently hate my wedding. No, I don't hate anything specific, I like my venue, cake, flowers, catering, and so on. But I am hating all these little stupid things to think about and answer and decide and book and buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhhh that felt good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-6967789404418779582?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/6967789404418779582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=6967789404418779582&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/6967789404418779582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/6967789404418779582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/06/hater.html' title='Hater'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-6515058285096714540</id><published>2007-06-07T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T15:26:24.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend Wedding Marathon</title><content type='html'>Since my wedding is less then 3 months away, I finally decided to plan a trip to the area that I will actually have wedding in. So off we go for the weekend to meet with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- the venue staff&lt;br /&gt;- the caterer&lt;br /&gt;- the photographer&lt;br /&gt;- the DJ&lt;br /&gt;- Florist 1&lt;br /&gt;-Florist 2&lt;br /&gt;- Baker 1&lt;br /&gt;-Baker 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, we will spend time with my parents, and his parents, oh and our friends who still live there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of that we have to go to the City planning board to figure out what type if any permit we need to have our outdoor ceremony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All from 3 pm Friday to 11am Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to refer to this as a vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:( First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-6515058285096714540?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/6515058285096714540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=6515058285096714540&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/6515058285096714540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/6515058285096714540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/06/weekend-wedding-marathon.html' title='Weekend Wedding Marathon'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-5762411491436863948</id><published>2007-06-04T19:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T19:17:01.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grades</title><content type='html'>Dear Professor,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you so much for gracing me with my grade, afterall one can hardly expect that you could read all those short answers in a mere 1 month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterall, your counterpart (my other professor) still has not decided to post his grades.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to wonder, are you saving your mystery for the final moment of reveal? Do you get off on thinking about us students, checking on the site each and every day, holding our breath while the page loads, and getting all pissed when we still see a "-"  where there should be an actual letter representing our grade for the entire last semester? Is it a sick rush? Are you really sitting there with a pile of graded papers purposefully holding out until the last second?  Or..... do you want us to think that you are some super busy in demand person, and this could not possibly find the time to grade all those papers in the time before the actual "deadline" or "a month after".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-5762411491436863948?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/5762411491436863948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=5762411491436863948&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5762411491436863948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5762411491436863948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/06/grades.html' title='Grades'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-3580157962520722878</id><published>2007-06-03T08:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T08:23:11.799-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Laziest Blogger....Ever</title><content type='html'>Yes yes, exam are long over, perhaps it just took  me a month to recover from the trauma before I was able to come back here? Or perhaps I fell into a laziness spiral, finally freed from mind numbing outline making and reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I am back. I am also 90 days away from my wedding :) I finally bought my gown, at the last moment of course, and I have a lot of the major details at least partially settled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My guest list has gotten a little out of control, so my small and intimate 50 person wedding might be growing into a 60-70 person family I haven't seen in 15 years fest. (Sigh) At least there is space in the venue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a mini-rant:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid Asshole with TB--&gt; What the fuck is wrong with you??? You say you didn't know how serious it was when the CDC contacted you and ordered you into isolation (and were also planning on flying the jet out to get your diseased ass back to the states). Excuse me????? I believe if the CDC contacted ME I would definetly be thinking something serious was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not you, "real man of genius", you decided to sneak into the USA. Why sneak? Oh  because you were ordered not to fly on commercial planes, and your passport was flagged, so you couldn't actually fly into America. Why not do the next best thing? Just fly to Canada, and drive over the border....yes it does make you sound a little like a terrorist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, you fucking suck as a person, selfish ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-3580157962520722878?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/3580157962520722878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=3580157962520722878&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3580157962520722878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/3580157962520722878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/06/laziest-bloggerever.html' title='Laziest Blogger....Ever'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-4566538114114035006</id><published>2007-05-09T10:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T10:38:59.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's Day....</title><content type='html'>Is it wrong that I feel we should celebrate me for mother's day? I think I would like to celebrate NOT being a mother this mother's day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what to do.... something "anti-motherly". Any ideas? I had original thought a strip club and an encounter with a bottle of vodkah, but I don't know how doable that is for a Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, in case you were wondering, finals are in fact over for me!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-4566538114114035006?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/4566538114114035006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=4566538114114035006&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/4566538114114035006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/4566538114114035006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day....'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-7076987729621738893</id><published>2007-05-07T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T12:56:12.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Studying at School Sucks</title><content type='html'>So, I am sitting here studying in the library for my exam tonight. I thought I would come to school because I thought I could concentrate better in a place of study then I could in my office in my house....right? No, definetly not right! Some people clearly don't know the proper behavior for studying near/with/around a whole other mass of people, even though they somehow managed to make it to law school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The original place I picked to sit down was right near the computers and a sort of supervised spot. A big sign hung in various places letting people know that some were taking an exam and that every effort to keep noise down would be appreciated. I took this to mean, typing, flipping pages, shifting, all OK.....answering your cell phone and having a long and loud and quite private conversation? I would think you could avoid that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Talking about cell phones.....why is your ringing on? You're in the library. You know what I do? I put my phone on vibrate and if I get a call I want to take, I grab the phone, whisper, "Hold on while I get out of the library", then I actually get out of the library and continue my call. There is nothing quite as charming as foul languaged ring tones resinating through the entire room at full blast while you search for the offending device. So...turn it off, put in on vibrate, silent....anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. No one expects you to be silent in the library (well except in the silent study room but I have no idea what happens in there, those people scare me). However, if you are sitting next to someone who is clearly in deep concentration maybe you and your BFF should take your chat about how you are "totally over this semester like last week" somewhere else. Everyone talks once in awhile, but most of us use this hushes tone, mostly reserved for quiet places....try it. Its even quieter then an inside voice. Didn't your mother teach it to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. On the flip side, please don't glare at me when I make the slightest noise, if you want to study in silence either go home or go to the creepy silent study room. The sound of me typing is going to make some noise, and once in awhile I have to reach into my bag for something. Don't glare at me each time. Thanks-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else have any favorite library behaviors?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-7076987729621738893?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/7076987729621738893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=7076987729621738893&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/7076987729621738893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/7076987729621738893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/05/studying-at-school-sucks.html' title='Studying at School Sucks'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-4976207163003407660</id><published>2007-05-02T16:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T16:38:36.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fox News.... I Hate You!</title><content type='html'>I study with the TV on in the background, and I usually leave it on Fox so that I can see all the trashy courtroom shows (or at least listen to them). Anyhow, the consequence of this is that I catch Fox news about 3 times, for a total of 3-4 hours (depending on when I drag myself out of bed). I really do have a few suggestions to make to the local Fox news anchors and whoever is responsible for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. American Idol is NOT News!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a lot of people watch this show, and while I personall chose not to....whatever floats your boat. But, what on earth makes you think that people who are watching the morning/noon (well maybe noon)/evening/late night news are interested in a 15 minute update on American Idol once, and sometimes even twice in a broadcast. The people who want to watch it watch it, do they need a recap the next morning/noon/evening/night? Also, while I think your little "Idol at the Metro" thing is an interesting idea, it is not in fact news. Its not entertaining, it just makes me wonder if there is reaaaaally nothing else going on in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. "Breaking News" Should Not be Old!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen, I think you might not really be grasping the concept of "breaking news". News that can be considered "breaking" is new, fresh, happening right this instant, well you get the idea. To use a recent example of lack of understanding of what actually constitutes breaking news....the baby panda. I know we ALL love the panda, he is super cute. Well.... breaking news.... The panda stays here for two more years!!! Yay!!!! I thought it was pretty cool too, I like the zoo. But the only time this news qualified as breaking was at most the day of, and maybe a morning recap. After 3 full days of you showing file images/videos of the panda from when the news was in fact breaking and excitedly telling us the NEWS that the baby panda stays for two more years. Stop using this story as a teaser, we all knew. So please, ever day or two change your "breaking stories" so that the news is actually new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Read the News Please&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a quickie.....Can you not waste 50% of the news cast making worthless banter with each other? If you're going to insist on switching your newscast into some sort of news/entertainment pony show please make that clear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime I need to find another challenge with good daytime TV. To study to of course :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-4976207163003407660?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/4976207163003407660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=4976207163003407660&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/4976207163003407660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/4976207163003407660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/05/fox-news-i-hate-you.html' title='Fox News.... I Hate You!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-2100592483146278836</id><published>2007-05-01T20:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T08:00:54.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry Guys :(</title><content type='html'>I am a crappy blogger right now. I haven't really had a great streak and now its time for finals and I am freaking out as usual (Business Organizations or Property outlines anyone care to share? :) ). Anyhow, the short hand update&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I got to have some root canals at two different appointments (thanks to a nice infection that made it impossible to do it all at once, go me). I also discovered I am allergic to certain antiboitics. So I have been a sicky over the last little while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Its finals and I just hate property law, I hate studying, I suck at making my outline. I get all different, fee this, deafisable that mixed up. So I am stressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Wedding update for someone who asked: All is going well, I finally picked out my dress so I am relieved about that ;) The menu is in the works and all else is basically on hold until this time next week when finals will be over (hope I don't fail).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow... I promise I will use this as my stress relief. My rants and rave to come tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-2100592483146278836?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/2100592483146278836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=2100592483146278836&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2100592483146278836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2100592483146278836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/05/sorry-guys.html' title='Sorry Guys :('/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-5077187254447166849</id><published>2007-04-09T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T19:03:09.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Law School is BLAH</title><content type='html'>I know I haven't been posting about school too much this semester, and I recently realized why. This semester is so boring. One of my classes is of completely no interest to me and the other is a very basic review of something I have long ago learned and currently use in my working life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I do the reading, take the notes, make my outline, and really not much else. I am not involved with school or any activities there at all, I am not going to the law school prom and I am so busy and preoccupied with all things non-law school related that I just don't have any stories there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My  classmates have gone from amusing and full of stories to equally as disinterested with the process. So many of the people in my night time classes just go to work, go to class, and go home.... not doing much else with school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every week my email box fills up with panels and fellowships and whatever else and I just delete it all, or mark it as spam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think its that I don't want to be a lawyer. I think its just these classes. Maybe everyone else has been there at one point or another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-5077187254447166849?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/5077187254447166849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=5077187254447166849&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5077187254447166849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5077187254447166849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/04/law-school-is-blah.html' title='Law School is BLAH'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-5069445222418861336</id><published>2007-04-02T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T18:20:01.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And Why Would You Clean Your Kids Puke?</title><content type='html'>Lest you think that the mombie/helicopter parent is unique to the United States, please rest assured that this is not the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.richmondandtwickenhamtimes.co.uk/mostpopular.var.1268453.mostviewed.mum_told_to_clean_up_her_childs_vomit.php"&gt;http://www.richmondandtwickenhamtimes.co.uk/mostpopular.var.1268453.mostviewed.mum_told_to_clean_up_her_childs_vomit.php&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really.....horrified that you should have to clean your kids puke? What do you do at home, just leave the puke there? I can understand expecting that the waitstaff in the cafe to clean up after the patrons, as in take the dishes off of the table, wipe the table, throw the trash on the table away, and the like but I don't think waitstaff really should be cleaning up your kids puke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot imagine any parent I know who would be offended at being asked to clean up after their child's biological waste. Most normal people would immediately jump up, apoligize and ask for napkins and stuff to wipe the mess up with. Not this entitlement queen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know when I was a waitress you could not make me clean up vomit, especially not when the person responsible for the little puke machine is right there, not sick themselves and certainly experienced in cleaning up kiddie puke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-5069445222418861336?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/5069445222418861336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=5069445222418861336&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5069445222418861336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5069445222418861336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/04/and-why-would-you-clean-your-kids-puke.html' title='And Why Would You Clean Your Kids Puke?'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-7006644058114930283</id><published>2007-03-18T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T16:13:33.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When You Want to Look Ugly on Your Wedding Day</title><content type='html'>Since I am getting hitched I have been looking around for wedding dresses. As most people have told me to start with the bridal magazines so I could get an idea of what I liked I did just that. But I have discovered something horrifying when flipping through these.....wedding dresses appear to come in a few different types...ugly, really fucking ugly, for mormons, or for I don't even know who. Please tell me who looks through these magazines and sites, lays eyes on any of the following dresses and sees their dream dress? Please...please!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puffy Mermaid: What the hell is this? Who is looking for the perfect combination of unforgivingly tight material and fuzzy whateve, all in an asymetrical shape?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043395121654227250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Ug5bmQMNkv4/Rf29JGAjYTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/oYdHHvDIRc4/s320/puffy+mermaid.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disablingly Mermaid: Perhaps the people who were interested in the above dress but hated the puffy/feathery shit really dreamed of a gown so tight they couldn't walk. I mean when my knees are bound together by a tiny stretch of fabric and I am wearing high heels I am always really happy. I guess this is for those who don't really care about their own comfort on their wedding day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043396865410949442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ug5bmQMNkv4/Rf2-umAjYUI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Gl1_YWyjxvA/s400/Tightassdess.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Chewed Bubble Gum: If neither a sleep super tight gown nor a furry nightmare are right for you, how a dress that looks like someone randoming tacked up pieces of it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043397758764147042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ug5bmQMNkv4/Rf2_imAjYWI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ycFADvzHQfk/s400/Chewed+Gum.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don't Stand Too Close: When you're wearing this dress you wont have to worry about hugging your guests, dancing with your brand new husband or sitting down!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043401950652227954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Ug5bmQMNkv4/Rf3DWmAjYXI/AAAAAAAAAAs/3CAeLGyJKPQ/s400/Ball+Gown.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Buble Gum Chain: When a regular train just wont do because its YOUR DAY!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043405897727172994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Ug5bmQMNkv4/Rf3G8WAjYYI/AAAAAAAAAA0/CkYxGWof8Ck/s400/gum+trail.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So there you have it.... either designers are completely confused about what looks good on women, or maybe these are really fashionable and I am out of touch...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;First Year :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-7006644058114930283?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/7006644058114930283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=7006644058114930283&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/7006644058114930283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/7006644058114930283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/03/when-you-want-to-look-ugly-on-your.html' title='When You Want to Look Ugly on Your Wedding Day'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Ug5bmQMNkv4/Rf29JGAjYTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/oYdHHvDIRc4/s72-c/puffy+mermaid.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-856911864536125968</id><published>2007-03-16T12:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T13:08:47.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tourist Stupidity</title><content type='html'>So.... I was watching one of those Judy Judy type court shows (Judge Alex perhaps...) and I have watched a lot of these shows and this is by far one of the dumbest things I have ever heard of suing someone over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plaintiffs: Older couple who wanted to go vacation in a less popular destination spot (as in not Cancun or one of the hot spots, it was on the other coast) in Mexico and contract a travel agency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Defendent: Travel agency that booked their trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, basically Dumb Couple ("DC") wanted their money back for their entire vacation because the resort wasn't what they were expecting and they were not satisified. Their biggest complaint.... That the food in the buffet was labelled in Spanish (in Mexico, in a non-tourist town, who would have known?) and that less then 5% of the people spoke English and they couldn't just talk to whoever they needed for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello....did I hear that right....you were upset because not enough people in a foriegn country spoke English? Your vacation was "ruined" because you could not read the exact names of the foods in the buffet???? You're on vacation for fucks sake. Try something different! Try to read the spanish words and figure it out from there. Take a tiny bit and try it, take more if you like it, throw it away if you hate it, because....its.....a....buffet!!!! Or if you thought your vacation through ahead of time perhaps you could have brushed up on commonly used spanish phrases or even brought a little dictionary with you. I mean really... I don't know what broccoli is in spanish but if I were looking at a broccoli with spanish wording above it, I would still know what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no.... you wont be happy unless people are speaking to you in english, not just some people there for the purpose but any and all people you might bestow the gift of your annoying questions on. If you cannot find out the exact name of the dish, without having to actually look at it, consider its smell, and see if some of the spanish words are similar to english, then I guess you cannot eat? What in the hell is wrong with you people???? You should not be allowed to travel unsupervised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funniest thing is these people wanted to retire to live in that area of Mexico. Try to wrap your mind around how they would deal with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-856911864536125968?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/856911864536125968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=856911864536125968&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/856911864536125968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/856911864536125968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/03/tourist-stupidity.html' title='Tourist Stupidity'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-999452792157342096</id><published>2007-03-06T05:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T05:37:52.164-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Getting Married :)</title><content type='html'>Some good news to share with everyone....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am....getting.... MARRIED :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. First Year did a valiant job doing the whole down on one knee bit and we're planning on a wedding for late summer in the area where we grew up (which is tons cheaper then the DC Metro).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yippie!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-999452792157342096?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/999452792157342096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=999452792157342096&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/999452792157342096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/999452792157342096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/03/im-getting-married.html' title='I&apos;m Getting Married :)'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-623377337916524671</id><published>2007-02-27T08:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T08:03:40.268-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fat Kids = Child Abuse?</title><content type='html'>I don’t if any of you have watched any amount of daytime TV (and anyone who has done a stint with unemployment probably has) has seen those talk shows where mothers come out with their grossly obese blobs of children. Some of them are quite shocking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://drphil.com/shows/show/183/"&gt;http://drphil.com/shows/show/183/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A four year old who weighs 160 pounds???? That’s insane, that’s more then I weigh, that’s almost as much as Mr. First Year weighs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 12 another child weighs 262….I remember being 12 and I was barely above 100, he’s like 2.5 normal 12 year olds, that’s not big boned, cute, soft, cuddly or anything else. That’s just plain FAT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my personal favorite:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Amanda's StoryTwenty-year-old Amanda was eight months pregnant when she first appeared on Dr. Phil. Her 3-year-old son, Jared, had beenplaced in foster care because she had allowed him to become obese. He weighed 120 pounds when he was taken away and lost 70 pounds in foster care. Amanda desperately wanted her son back and feared her unborn child might be taken from her as well."Since I went on the Dr. Phil show, we had a court date," explains Amanda. "My parental rights [with Jared] were terminated. I had my last visit with him. It was for an hour, and that's the last time I can see him until he turns 18.""I gave birth to my daughter on February 4. A case worker came into the hospital ... He showed me the paper. The judge had signed it to be able to take the baby away from me. The foster mom came in and took her. Any babies I have in the future will be taken."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good for child protective services I say, letting or making your kid get so fat is in fact your fault and its cruel to a child. Why would a mother want to subject her own children to the health problems and social concerns that come from being obese. Does she want them to end up like those 1000 pound people who cannot leave their house and need to be weighed on scales made for whales and other large sea animals?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as you all might hate clicking on a link to the Dr. Phil show its worth a look, just to see the pictures of these obese kids. These kids are not slightly tubby, this is no baby fat, there is no way in hell these kids got to that size eating even marginally well. And when you’re 3 and 4 years old you only have one place where food comes from, from your parents. When you  listen to these shows and hear what these parents are feeding their children I just want to smack them. Your four year old shouldn’t be eating a bucket of fried chicken and a whole large pizza for dinner. That is so obviously unhealthy and too much then even the least educated in society should be aware that it’s a bad thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s why I don’t buy the ignorance argument. Look at your kid! He/She is HUGE, look at all the other kids, they might be a bit tubby or sort of soft but they can run rather then waddle. Where in the world would these people get in their heads that their children should be eating fast food for 2 meals a day 7 days a week, not only is that extremely unhealthy, its also very expensive. You cannot claim that you “didn’t know” how bad it was, that four year old couldn’t even run around his own backyard, what kind of moron wouldn’t see a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as an answer to the question, “Well what can I do, that’s what he likes to eat.”…..you can…..wait for it…..be a parent! That’s right, instead of going to hit up the pizza hut and taco bell to buy him 12 tacos and a pizza plus chicken wings for dinner go buy a bag of that pre-washed lettuce, grill up a chicken breast and cut it up, then dumb the lettuce plus chicken breast into a bowl and put it in front of tubby. Since you were incompetent in your initial attempt to parent him/her the kid will probably refuse the healthy food. That’s OK, he’s fat he can skip a meal. Eventually hunger will win out. If you feed your kid mass quantities of junk that’s all they will eat. If you give them many types of food, most of which is healthy then they will grow up all the better for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the above is why I agree with taking children away from parents who refuse to do anything about their obesity and generally are the cause of it because I do feel as it’s a form of abuse (see this story from England if you feel like it &lt;a href="http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/health/article1434607.ece"&gt;http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/health/article1434607.ece&lt;/a&gt; )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeding your child to obesity is basically inflicting an entire life of social problems and health concerns. Childhood diabetes is on the rise, kids are even having heart problems these days. Only awful parents would think its OK and even cute for their kids to be this fat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What say the rest of you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year J&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-623377337916524671?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/623377337916524671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=623377337916524671&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/623377337916524671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/623377337916524671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/02/fat-kids-child-abuse.html' title='Fat Kids = Child Abuse?'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-793847647776698739</id><published>2007-02-26T12:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T12:23:06.772-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ding Dong the Witch is Dead :)</title><content type='html'>Well now that I am back out and about I can share my wonderful work related news. My most hated of all my coworkers had “severed her relationship with the company”. It was a wonderful little scandal to come back to, such a high ranking person canned with no warning? Juicy! So to honor the memory of the world’s worse coworker and project manger every I will commiserate with the things I liked and hated most about her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liked: (yes, this is going to be very hard).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Her office was on the total opposite end of the floor from me. Even if she screamed at full throttle I would be safe from her hyena type laugh in my office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. She was so lazy she often didn’t come in to work or came late and left early. While this meant she never got her work actually done, it did mean I didn’t have to deal with her as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. She was an easy target, it was so easy to get her flustered and no entertaining to watch the meltdown that would ensue, I will miss that it was almost better then having direct TV, almost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hated: (I will try to keep it to 3…..no promises)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Utter incompetence with menial tasks. For example I know she knew how to mail a letter but for some reason she would spend 10 times the amount of time it would take to place postage on the envelope and slip it into the “out” mailbox to find someone else to do this task for her. Ditto for copying, faxing or any of the other things we all spend a few seconds doing here and there. She was always so swamped she never had time to do these tasks, but somehow she always had the 10-15 minutes per task it would take her to locate someone to do it for her. Pure genius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Nastiness. Not only was she dumb, lazy and worthless she was also horribly mean, demeaning, patronizing, and just a jack-ass. Everyone hated her, no one invited her anywhere, and office doors would slam shut if we heard her hooves coming down the hallway. If you’re going to be an idiot you cannot also be a huge bitch, unless of course you’re model quality hot, which she wasn’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Job performance. I don’t know how much of her day she spent on actual work, but from my calculations it was even less then me (and that’s amazing). Seriously, I’d ask her to do a task that would take half an hour or less and she wouldn’t get to the task for 2 weeks despite numerous reminders. But, before some of you feel bad for her because she was so busy, no she wasn’t during those 2 weeks she sent out numerous joke emails, requests for magazines to read, and other indications that she was bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that’s it, now she’s gone from our lives forever. Cutting off her benefits was one of the most gratifying things I’ve gotten to do at this job. The sadness and slight feeling of loss that accompanied a beloved coworkers departure is distinctly missing here. I don’t really wish her luck as I feel bad for whoever ends up with her. She’s difficult to work with, the subordinates hate her, her coworkers hate her, and in the end even the big boss ended up hated her. She was a nasty, lazy and even ugly person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That felt better J&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-793847647776698739?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/793847647776698739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=793847647776698739&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/793847647776698739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/793847647776698739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/02/ding-dong-witch-is-dead.html' title='Ding Dong the Witch is Dead :)'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-2829309919181367976</id><published>2007-02-21T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T10:20:07.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cough Cough...DIE</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the lack of posts.... I have been deathly ill with whatever disease had been floating around the office. You should have heard it in here last week, its quite pleasant to work when all you can hear is :::hack::::hack:::::aaaaachoooo::::sniffle::::sniffle:::: and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the boss has an ingenious idea, sent all the sick people home and order them to stay there until their disease is gone. Looking around the office today the same number of people apear to be sick, they are just different people now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting mostly better, but I just can't seem to shake it. So, I will be back with a vengence and hopefully without a hacking cough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-2829309919181367976?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/2829309919181367976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=2829309919181367976&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2829309919181367976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/2829309919181367976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/02/cough-coughdie.html' title='Cough Cough...DIE'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-5811546841007219878</id><published>2007-02-11T19:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T05:22:00.382-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Sappy.....</title><content type='html'>So...its close to Valentine's Day and we should be all romatic and lovely right? But its not always like that...sometimes theres a different good for each couple. Me and the Mr. have not had the best luck with this holiday. I have wanted this big romatic to do and he has failed to plan it. Then I get all dissapointed and sad, and then nothing works. But really..... all I want this is year is something heartfelt and sweet. Jewlry, candy, flowers, plush items they would all be nice, but I would give everything up for something heartfelt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would 100000% rather have the Mr. tell me that I mean everything to him and tell me all the things that made him fall in love with me and how much he loves me and how happy he is I am in his life then any present and any espensive dinner in a fancy place. I would treasure this moment more then any other, and no money could buy the feeling that my man telling me what I mean to him would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you've spent a few V-days together like me and the mister have.... Cook her a meal, light the candles, write a letter, and just tell her how much you love her. Because after the fancy jewelry and the nice meals, and whatever else....there is just you and her. Make sure she knows that you'd not want anyone other then her there. And no matter how much you think she should know that she's the only one for you...she needs to hear it, spoken from you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, tell your sweetie you love her. And if you don't have a sweetie.....well who the fuck cares, cause we all know we're fucking awsome, and we don't NEED someone....but if we do have someone they should make us realize we're the best and the most perfect someone for them......got that Mr. First Year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:) First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-5811546841007219878?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/5811546841007219878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=5811546841007219878&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5811546841007219878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/5811546841007219878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/02/getting-sappy.html' title='Getting Sappy.....'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-8954505599184166316</id><published>2007-02-05T07:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T07:56:51.279-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Payton Manning.....</title><content type='html'>I hate you... I am sorry you won, I really wanted your entire NFL career to go by without a single Super Bowl victory. I hope you never win another game, or better yet get injured in the off season doing something totally lame and non-football related.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, Vinetari did manage another Super Bowl win, good for him. He's probably the only reason Indy didn't manage to loose during this years playoff like they usually do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to reitterate...fuck you Indy, Payton Manning sucks...... but I am not bitter :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-8954505599184166316?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/8954505599184166316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=8954505599184166316&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8954505599184166316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/8954505599184166316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/02/payton-manning.html' title='Payton Manning.....'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-117045221935864284</id><published>2007-02-02T10:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T13:36:59.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Adult Version of "My Dog Ate my Homework"</title><content type='html'>At the end of the month the excuses as to why time isn't entered into the system, why expense reports aren't filed, and why various other mundane yet crucial administrative tasks aren't done are always very interesting. They range from the ordinary to the unbelievable, to excuses that tug at the heart strings and ones that make me wonder if the person giving it to me thinks I am an idiot. Below, a sampling of the lame-o excuses I have recieved Thursday and Today about why end of the month stuff hasn't been done, when its past the first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The boring and mundane:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate these types the most, if you're going to make up some crap at least be original, give me something interesting to read. Writing out, "Sorry I've been swamped and I haven't finished entering my time in" is not only yawn inducing but its also a lie (because I can in fact see that you haven't entered a single hour for the month....not only did you not finish, you didn't start).  Of course theres the usual chorus of, "I've been out sick the last few days of the month" (No, you haven't, you've been here and have just been too busy watching YouTube and reading Business Week).  And the inevitable, "Oh I forgot how late it was getting in the month!" (What??? You totally lost track of the date, the fact that you sit in front of a computer with your calendar blinking at you all day doesn't clue you in? How about the 3-4 emails I sent around about the end of the month approaching and then arriving? Missed all those too huh?). But my point is this, your excuse is dumb, its easily proven to be untrue, and really its just old, sad, and used up. So think of something else, especially those of you who use the same on each month!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The Unbelievable:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of mid-level manager types actually attempted to use this excuse this month, "I entered my time and submitted it and somehow the system must have deleted half of the time for 2 weeks. But I definetly entered it, and I don't want to enter it again, because I already did and it just isn't in there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh....really? Hmmm, I'll put a call into tech support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me to Tech Support: One of our employees says that the program deleted half of two of her timesheet. Is that possible?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tech Support: No, not really.... its not likely the program will randomly something, but if it did would delete the entire timesheet, not just half of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Thats what I thought....thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, really...who is going to believe that a software program just randomly ate up half (not the whole but half) of your time sheet, not once but twice. Something tells me you're just being lazy. But at least you made up something good. So I am going to add to my advice from the previous section. Not only should your excuse be interesting and difficult to prove to be a lie, it should also be feasible. Don't use an excuse that couldn't actually have happened. For example, if you tell me you got into a car wreck and were in a comma for a few weeks I am not likely to believe you, if you tell me you got a flat tire and poor you had to spend the day waiting for AAA and buying a new tire from Goodyear I am more likely to let it go (though I still wont believe you).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Stupid, ignorant, mean-spirited:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These types don't even try an excuse they just skip straight to the rudeness and indignation. If I had a dollar for every time I hear, "I shouldn't have to do this because I am too highly billed/important/busy", well I wouldn't have to do my job. Sure...you might be highly billed and important to someone other then me, but the fact remains that you still need to put the time that you spent on client work into a program that then bills the client for the work done for them. Its not hard, and really unless you have a secretary following you around all day taking notes I do believe its easier for you to just do it yourself and not try to get some junior staff member to enter it for you. Think about it, if you have to write out on paper all of your hours for the assistant to enter into the program, why didn't you just enter it into the program? It would take less time then what you did. So, simply being too much of a snobbish ass, who is also too stupid to realize that his (or it could be a her, but to me this one's a him, a very specific him) delgating is wasting way more of his time then its saving, is also not a good excuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in wrap up... don't bore me, don't make it too obvious you're lying to me, don't tell me something that cannot be true, and don't use your foul personality as an excuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks and get your damn time in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-117045221935864284?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/117045221935864284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=117045221935864284&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/117045221935864284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/117045221935864284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/02/adult-version-of-my-dog-ate-my_02.html' title='The Adult Version of &quot;My Dog Ate my Homework&quot;'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-117010394731956911</id><published>2007-01-29T12:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-03T15:04:26.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Shouldn't be This Hard!</title><content type='html'>So, I have been trying to purchase a phone for quite some time now and am about to lose it at Sprint. The transaction that I want to take place between me and the super "helpful" people inside the store is simple: I want a new phone and they have new phones. I will give them money in exchange for the new phone. Easy, right? Not so much. Below, please find my Sprint Saga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try #1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and the Mr. wander into our local Sprint store and look around, pick out the phones we'd like and wait. And waaaait and wait. Finally after about 45 minutes in the store we ask someone who clearly doesn't care whether someone might be able to help us (they make you sign in and you wait for your name to be called, but no one was helping anyone really) and the look of disgust and sigh that screamed "Oh fiiiiiine" was my reward. But I will commend her she did drag herself off her lazy ass and asked us what we wanted. When we told her what phones we'd like she said, "Don't have em" and ran off into the back. Totally frustrated we head home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try #2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several months after the first incident we finally decide to try again and this time go to a different Sprint store, foolishly and niavely thinking the service would be better. This time we'd already picked out the phones we wanted, we had called the store beforehand to ensure they were in stock and we went in the middle of the daytime when most people are *working* (not so apparently). Still we are met with the sign in sheet and a 50 minute wait. Once it is our turn we are told one of the phones we want is back ordered. "But we called an hour ago! Did they just sell the last one?" Oh.... no they didn't apparently, "Nah, they haven't been in all month...". Thanks again sprint!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I gave up trying for almost a year. Our contract ran out and our phones went to hell. Mine no longer carries a charge for more then 15 minutes of talk time and the Mr's has a volume problem where he has to sort of scream to be heard. So, I decided it was time no matter how painful to get the new phones....plus my work is paying for me to pick out whatever PDA I want so I can further sell my soul to "the man".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try #3 (Today):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have called and had a conversation with several people over at Sprint. They say they have the phones and everything seems good. I pick a store in a nice area where most people are working hoping that would cut down on the wait time (it didn't)  but I was sorely mistaken. Apparently, "We have plenty of them in stock" is code for "We don't have any and I have no idea when we will!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Sprint, I must ask....What the fuck is wrong with you? All I want is a damn phone and you SELL phones....why don't you just sell one to me? How is it possible that you are always out of the phone I want (which is never an unusual model) even when I call and make someone go physically look for the phone? At this point, I am not on a contract anymore and while I really wanted to stick with Sprint you are literally making it impossible for me to do that. My phone is broken, I really need another and apparently I need a PDA. If you wont sell me one I am afraid I really will need to go elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily for me when I called Sprint up and told them this they let me order the phones on the phone (and wait like 3 days for them) and gave me an extra $250 off. I am still pissed but at least I am getting a new phone. I just don't get the problem, why is there always such a huge ass wait and so many useless employees milling around? Don't most people have to have jobs in order to pay for their phones? Well if so what the fuck are all these people constantly doing at the Sprint store?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess I'll never know. I am just glad its over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-117010394731956911?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/117010394731956911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=117010394731956911&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/117010394731956911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/117010394731956911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/01/it-shouldnt-be-this-hard.html' title='It Shouldn&apos;t be This Hard!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116965203898144278</id><published>2007-01-24T07:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T23:43:20.520-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What to Say?</title><content type='html'>Well, I haven't blogged in a bit because I don't really have much to say. I am back in school and that seems to be going well, work is busy, and all else is generally the same/well. I guess the only thing I really have to share is that I realized how much I DON'T miss certain things about law school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The number one thing I don't miss is listening to the inane conversations law students are having all around me. Now, I like studying the law, and its interesting and all....But at some point you need to develop something else to talk about. While eating dinner before my classes I just love listening to the riveting arguments going on all around me. And by riveting I mean they make the people having the conversation sound like a conceited ass-bag. So, as an appeal to my fellow law students....Just have some dinner, try talking about your plans for the weekend, or about anything else other then some inane news article with "immense potential for global ramifications" (shut up!). You love to argue, you love to hear the sound of your own voice, I get it.....Believe me I do, but please take a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I didn't mean for that to turn into a rant. Its only the 3rd week back and I am already about to strangle certain classmates (the talker, the joker, the person who doesn't read but uses big words to make it sound like he does), this blog should be filling up with law school rants soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side Rant: When it snows could you at least *try* to clean *some* of the snow off of your car? I almost died when a huge sheet of ice and snow flew off your car and right into mine. Its really unsafe, and since you had 3 children in car seats in your back seats I would think safety would be important to you. But apparently not, you're too busy and important to take 5 minutes to prepare your car for driving. Thanks, next time I hope its you who meets an asshat who decided to use highway as a snow scraper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116965203898144278?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116965203898144278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116965203898144278&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116965203898144278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116965203898144278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/01/what-to-say.html' title='What to Say?'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116839617894136398</id><published>2007-01-09T18:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T10:48:30.410-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop Honking!!!</title><content type='html'>Dear Asshole driving down Eye Street behind me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, fuck you! What the hell do you keep honking at me for? I am truly confused, please tell me what I can do better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I thought it was just a fluke. Surely you wouldn't be honking at someone stopped at a RED light, because red means stops. Then I wondered if I were in your way of making a right hand turn on the red, and sadly since we were in the middle lane this couldn't have been the care. So, what is it exactly that you are trying to get across with your long and loud honks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second time was a little more understandable, if we didn't all know the rule about not blocking the box. You see, the light was in fact green and on first inspection you'd think it was well within my right to go. However, you might not have noticed the 30-40 cars crammed into the lanes on the block across the intersection, leaving my car no place to be that was not actually IN the middle of the intersection. Now I know someone as wonderful as you are would probably go ahead and pull into the middle of the street knowing that you'd get stuck there because you don't care about looking like an ass, being in a dangerous situation, and aggrivating everyone else. But thats not me, so I am sory I stopped at the green light. I would do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course my personal favorite, as I rolled up to a light that had been yellow to begin with, I didn't decide to blow the light. Oh you were livid! You honked and honked and it went on for so long I thought you must have some sort of super horn that will emit the obnoxious for minutes at a time! I don't know if I enjoyed that more then the ever popular shot rapid fire honking. In any case, your honking really made my evening. Thanks. I suppose if I had blown through the red light and the DC police office who was sitting at the intersection I was crossing (and might possibly smash right into him) had given me a ticket you would have paid for it? I bet you would have, I mean you wanted to get through the light so badly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it, you honk if I stop at a red, or a yellow, and especially a green. You seem to be unwilling to judge road conditions for whether one should go or not go. It must have been clear to you that I was not paying you any attention, so why keep honking? I can understand a short little beep beep to indicate that you're not pleased with something I have done. But do you need to lay on your horn the entire time the light I am stopped at is red (or red and yellow or red and yellow and green)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I hate you. I hope you get into a deadly accident with an innaminate object. People like you should not be on the road, I can only wish misfortune unto you. Please don't breed and pass down your idiot genes. This was not the best day to mess with me, it was my first back at school, I was determined to not let it get to me, and I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116839617894136398?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116839617894136398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116839617894136398&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116839617894136398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116839617894136398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/01/stop-honking.html' title='Stop Honking!!!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116784029325762980</id><published>2007-01-03T07:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T18:06:59.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year :)</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the lack of posts around the Holidays but things have just been so hectic. I decided I wanted to welcome in the New Year with a computer crash that killed half of the work I've done foer 2 months in our accounting software. Well I dealt with that and now I am back, wasting precious time at work with you all :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone here had a good new year and holiday. Mine were pretty low key. I got some clothing under the tree and a few new earrings, nothing to exciting. For NYE we stayed home and watched the law and order SVU marathon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I am just enjoying the last of my freedom, I am back to class next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yikes! I feel like a kid on the first day of kindergarden! What if the other kids don't like me? What if the teacher hates me? What if its to hard? and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well me and my neorosis will go back to work. I'll have a real post up when I feel like it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116784029325762980?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116784029325762980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116784029325762980&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116784029325762980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116784029325762980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2007/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year :)'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116732059952112457</id><published>2006-12-28T07:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T15:05:15.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Naughty and Nice List</title><content type='html'>Well the holidays are finally wearing down, and in fact I am sick of them a few days before New Years. But I wanted to take the time to commend the nice people who have made my holiday season better and rant about the naughty people who irritated me in my holiday adventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naughty:&lt;br /&gt;(I would like to put a little note here and say that I hope some of this behavior was from these folks being just plain sick of the holidays themselves and the crappy customers they tend to dredge out).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Waitress at a Carlyle Group restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Excuse me, this steak is not the cut I ordered (I ordered a filet, this steak had a bone which made me think it was a t-bone) and it isn’t cooked medium rare (I had cut it and it was well done).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: Can’t you just eat it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: What?? No, this isn’t what I ordered, this isn’t a cut I like and its cooked in an inedible way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: (grabbing the plate) Well fine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. FY: Could you please keep my plate warm back there so we can eat together?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waitress: Are you serious? Ugh, fine, just give it to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I can understand her frustration I have been a waitress myself. And really if the steak was the cut I ordered and cooked a little past medium rare I would have eaten it and not really bitched. However, I wonder if her initial response was the best way of dealing with it, if I had planned to eat it anyhow I wouldn’t have said anything to her! In any case, I hope she’s gotten over her case of the holiday grumpies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Sales Associate at non-so cheap department store:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were purchasing a few special glass ornaments for our tree and we were paying for them. This woman was just plain violent, she slammed the ornaments into the bag and broke one. While the Mr. was paying I was checking to see if the ornaments had survived and when I confronted her with the broken piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her: Well you bought it and if you break it you cannot return it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Actually you broke the ornament when you put it into the bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her: Well you’ve paid for it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Manager please!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Oblivious mom with giant SUV stroller (and sadly it wasn’t just one and it isn’t just moms!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Walking on the right side of the corridor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Walking against traffic with SUV stroller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Trying to dodge her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Slamming into my shins with stroller and shooting me a filthy look as if I had just killed her kid’s puppy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moms and Dads, please be aware that you are walking with a large item in front of you. Even if you didn’t personally kick me, its no less annoying to have your stroller pushed right into me. You have just as much right to be in the mall as me, but you have to be more careful because you’re pushing something ahead of you. I am sure you don’t always want that enormous thing with you either, but alas you chose to take it in. so watch where you’re going, walk with traffic not against it, and for heavens sake apologize or say excuse me if you assault someone with your child. Which makes me wonder, there IS a baby in there right? If so, aren’t you the least bit concerned with hitting people basically WITH your child or just people jostling the little bundle of joy? I would be worried about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. CVS Clerk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a long line for the register and of course there was only 1 person checking people out. The women currently at the register (Lets call her Oblivious Women or “OW”) decided that this was the best time for her to voice various opinions about the stock and all types of over things the clerk had no control over. Well after about 5 minutes the clerk had had enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clerk: Ma’am I am sorry but I’ll have to take the next customer unless you’re purchasing something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OW: Its MY turn and I am not done!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clerk: I can give you a customer service number so you can voice your concerns to people who might be able to offer you a resolution to your problems, but I need to check out the people behind you trying to purchase merchandise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OW: Are you DEAF? I am not done here and its my turn and you have to help me until I am finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clerk: Actually, this line is for people trying to check out. Since you are not buying anything you are actually done here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OW: continues to rant and rave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clerk: Moves down to another register, sets it up and says, “Next customer please”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other patrons in line: Clap and cheer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you store clerk. You are probably a high school student but the class and tact you displayed are well beyond your years and well beyond what most people acquire in their entire lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. A small child (6-8 years old)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating at a restaurant a random child decided to become a terror (Satan) and another small child was getting more annoyed then any adult (Angel)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan: Runs up to Angel’s table and starts instigating Angel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angel: Get away from me! Sit down with YOUR mommy, you’re not supposed to run around in here!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure his mom was thrilled. Satan’s mom on the other hand was involved in a cell phone call and missed the entire episode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. My Fed Ex guy       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to thank you! I did a lot of our shopping online and most of our family members know to use only FedEx because UPS is the high of incompetence. So through the whole month of December you trekked about 3-7 packages a week for me, some heavy, and some cumbersome. I appreciate it, and I hope you have a good chiropractor!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116732059952112457?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116732059952112457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116732059952112457&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116732059952112457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116732059952112457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/12/naughty-and-nice-list.html' title='Naughty and Nice List'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116672826753433073</id><published>2006-12-21T11:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T18:30:21.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes Working at Home Doesn't Work</title><content type='html'>Not that I am anti-social or that I hate all of my coworkers but when I need to buckle down and get some work done I prefer to do it from home in my home office with my bigger desk and without the constant distractions of the workplace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually this works out pretty well as I can do almost all my work remotely and usually people understand  that when I say to please contact me only for urgent requests (I need a check cut NOW or I need some random  numbers for a proposal due in today for example) that is actually what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However this week I have been trying to do all the tax planning and the bank account reconciling and all that fun with numbers I get to have on a daily basis. Well I took to my home office and something about this week has inspired my coworkers to misunderstand the word “urgent”. So far some of the requests I have received are not only (1) inane but also sometimes (2) not part of my job or even (3) completely irrelevant to anything that needs to be done this year. Here are my favorites:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Inane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Examples:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(a) “I forgot the password to my 401(k) online account, the website says it will email me a new password, but I want to know which email it will send it to as I have two email addresses”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I said: “Emails from the 401(k) site arrive at your Name of Company account.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I wanted to say: “Why don’t you fucking click on the link and then check BOTH email accounts to see where the password showed up? Surely checking 2 email accounts is going to yield you a faster answer to your question then emailing me and waiting for a response.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(b) “CFO said that $xxxx should be charged every month but I thought it should be $xxxx, turns out he was right. Just an FYI to you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I said: “Great! Thanks for keeping me in the loop!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I wanted to say: “So fucking what? You thought the CFO was wrong but he wasn’t and I need to have this info why?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Not Part of My Job&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(a) “We are all out manila folders, I really need them to organize my files, please tell me when they will arrive, I need them immediately.”&lt;br /&gt;What I said: “I believe XXXX the office manager is in charge of ordering supplies, I will forward your email to her.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I wanted to say: “I’m an accountant and the HR administrator. How does ordering the supplies fit into that? You wrote this in REPLY to my email about taking only urgent requests…..what did it remind you of your urgent need for folders? Grow a brain please.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(b) “Please make sure that any faxes left on our machine [me and this person as well as half the office have a common copy machine plus there is someone whose job is handing out faxes, and this was sent in reply to my email about working from home…] are delivered to me and not left on the machine for long periods.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I said: “I am out of the office for most of this week, if you contact xxxx assistant about your concerns I am sure she will be able to accommodate you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I wanted to say: “Did you NOT just read the email you replied to???? I am NOT at work, thus I cannot possibly check the machine for faxes to you or deliver them to your desk. You have worked here longer then me and there has always been an admin assistant that routinely sorts and delivers faxes through the day. If you’re worried about a fax getting to you I am sure you can tell her to look out for it and she will increase the frequency that she checks it in order to get your fax to you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Irrelevant to anything that needs to be done this year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(a) “In April we are going to need to put together a proposal for xxxx could we meet this week to plan for this?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said: “I am afraid I will be occupied for remainder of this year with tax work, however I should have a lot more availability in January.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I wanted to say: “Fuck you. I am busy; it’s the end of the year. Perhaps I don’t have time to have a meeting to schedule a series of meetings with you because as I stated I am extremely busy with tax work but I am also working at home! What are you stupid?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(b) “Well the xxxx is finally closing in March, in preparation for this we will need inane work. Its due by 2/28 but I wanted to take a look at what you have now since this is such a quiet time for me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I said: “Unfortunately this is not such a quiet time for me. I will produce this when I have finished my tax work.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I wanted to say: “WTF is your problem? You have no work so you think its just fine to expect me to do hours of working during my busiest time in order to save you from boredom? No, well actually no fucking way. Go home early and do some shopping. You’ll get your info when you actually need with plenty of time to review it. You don’t need 2 months. Now leave me alone!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh, it felt good to get that out. Now I can go back to work. Though I did just spend more time posting about people’s bad behavior then it took to deal with the misfits, I think it cleared my mind to do some work :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116672826753433073?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116672826753433073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116672826753433073&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116672826753433073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116672826753433073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/12/sometimes-working-at-home-doesnt-work.html' title='Sometimes Working at Home Doesn&apos;t Work'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116646362291754732</id><published>2006-12-18T09:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T10:32:07.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am Such a Dork!</title><content type='html'>I think I may be a total dork. But this morning I FINALLY finished choicing my final schedule for next semester. No more switching allowed for me. And get this…. I am actually *excited* about going back! That was definetly surprising. Its not that I hated law school, and though I did at some points its not the reason I took a semester off. I just didn’t think I’d get all excited about coming back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since an commentator asked me why I whined so much and wished I would post more positive posts, I figured this could be a good spot to start that, because really I do have a lot of good in my life to be happy about, its just the bad or frustrating events that stick out in my mind. So thanks to that commentator, I appreciate the little push!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, back to the point. I am going back to law school!!!!! Back to the library, back the outlining, back to the pages of reading, back to the Socratic method. Yes back to it all!!! And I don’t dread it, I don’t wish it was later, I am glad its NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This summer, when I made the decision to skip a semester I was not ready to go back to school at all. Mr. First year was sort of in ill health, my job was a ton less steady, my condo was in ruins because of the flooding and we were sleeping in our living room. Everything was just a mess. Its amazing how things have really gotten so much better in the past 5-6 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am going to eat these words sometime around finals next time around, but I can’t wait to add law school back into my life. I am ready, my mind is in the right place, I miss my friends, I miss the mental stimulation, and I really miss further my actual career goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much will change, except I will need to leave work a little later and become a lot more dependant on my PDA. I bet I will also have law school related banter like the good old days :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead call me a geek :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116646362291754732?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116646362291754732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116646362291754732&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116646362291754732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116646362291754732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-am-such-dork.html' title='I am Such a Dork!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116615012368226602</id><published>2006-12-14T18:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T12:38:55.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to the Regularly Scheduled Programming</title><content type='html'>Well all, my dental woes are over and I have returned from vacation. I will be back to posting regularly, because god knows how much ranting can revolve around the holiday season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before I get into all that I have a little rant about the hotel we stayed at during the trip. This wasn't a discount chain like a motel 8 type or a Holiday Inn. It was a chain hotel with a 4-5 star rating (depending on what source you go by) and since we have stayed at their hotels before when travelling we felt as if we could be reasonable assured at their quality and service. Well, we were only partially right. Their front desk staff was perfect, their bell hop incredibly friendly. And while the room was not as nice (by far) as other rooms we have stayed in with the same chain but in different cities it was nice and had 2 balconies instead of 1 because we scored a corner room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However there were several things at this hotel that made us never want to stay there again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Breakfast- Now I am 100% aware that there is a huge markup for anything at a hotel. Other properities in this chain charge between 13-15 bucks for a full buffet breakfast on weekdays and more on weekends. There was usually a nice array of options, carving stations, waffle makes, omlete chefs, etc. Not so at this property! Breakfast buffet was $25! Wow....60 bucks for breakfast for 2 every moring? Thats an awful lot. Now, this wouldn't be so bad if there was anything even remotely good at the buffet. However, there was no omlete station, waffle station, caving stations/meats of any kind. There was only runny eggs, potatoes, sandwhich fixings, bagels, oatmeal, cold cereal, bacon/sausage, and some fruit. For 25 bucks.... I have to wonder where the money is going...this isn't a champagne brunch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Mr. First Year compared the price of the buffet to every other meal we had (it was a running joke). When we ate at an Argentinian restuarant that featued a lunch buffet for 13 bucks which included a beer/glass of wine/softdrink a salad station with a million types of authentic salad, an appetizer station with all sorts of delicious dishes (almost tapas style), and a meet station which was a huge grill with any type of meat/stuffed meat/vegetable/etc known to man on it where someone carved you pieces you wanted. All unlimited. The name of that place was The Knife, if any of you are in Florida check it out :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Service- Like I said the front desk, the bell hop, and the conceirge could not have been more helpful. However, the service in the higher end restuarant (they had one for lunch/dinner/breakfast service and another for a romantic dinner, business dinner etc) was absolutely horrific. It wasn't just us, looking around the half filled place people were looking for non-existent servers everywhere, sitting with their plated without silverware, waiting 30 minutes for a drink/to be greeted. We waited for 15 minutes and asked for a server, another 20 minutes later still no server in sight we ask again. Finally a sloppy looking person comes up, sighs, rolls his eyes and asks us what we want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen, if you want to have a crappy restuarant thats fine. What we came for was what was promised in how you hold the place up. As a place one can have great service $50 main dishes of amazing food, and a good bottle of wine or two. We got so hungry after waiting 40 minutes for the waiter to bring our appetizers when we decided to leave, which was just as well because he didn't place our order because he forgot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate to admit it, I did go whine to management, but it was just so irritating. We were staying in an area where it was now too late to find another dinner options. We ended up with room service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my point is this. If you're going to hold yourself out as a nice hotel, with exceptional service, excellent food and charge the prices to reflect that....you need to stop acting like a super 8 motel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh that feels good to get off my chest :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116615012368226602?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116615012368226602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116615012368226602&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116615012368226602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116615012368226602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/12/back-to-regularly-scheduled.html' title='Back to the Regularly Scheduled Programming'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116542651583280406</id><published>2006-12-06T09:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T17:43:11.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch</title><content type='html'>If anyone wonders where I've gone to...I am still here but recovering from some emergency dental work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a fun time. First my tooth hurt like someone was beating me in the side of the face with a bat. Then it got so bad I couldn't eat or sleep. At this point my hopes of it going away were pretty much non-existent so I resigned myself, it was time for the dentist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily I found a great dentist who took me in the same day and did the procedures I needed right away. Now I am spending some time in this weird medicated and sore state. Its a good time. Whats even more fun is trying to get some work done like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to mention the meds in all my emails, as in "FYI boss, I'm not illiterate, I am just drugged".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hoping to resume normal life tommorrow or friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116542651583280406?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116542651583280406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116542651583280406&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116542651583280406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116542651583280406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/12/ouch.html' title='Ouch'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116481352891247974</id><published>2006-11-29T07:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T19:55:55.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things to be Thankful For</title><content type='html'>Since I haven’t posted since Thanksgiving (a) because I am a lazy ass sometimes and (b) because I just haven’t been inspired by much of anything lately, a few days out of the office will calm one right down. But now I am back at work and wanted to think of a few things I have been thankful for lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Last night, pulling out of my garage at work the unthinkable happened. It was a crowded busy street, where no one will let anyone get out of a garage for quite sometime. But then it happened a METRO BUS (did you hear that? A BUS!!!!!) stopped in the middle of the road and waved me through. I hesitated for a few seconds, not understanding the kind thing he was doing, I thought for sure I would start moving and then he would plow me down. I have never, ever in my over 3 years of commuting into and around Washington, DC EVER had a bus do anything other then run me down. So, random kind metro bus driver….thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Not having Children- This might sound a little mean but while Mr. First year and I enjoy some activity I often notice families around us trying to enjoy them to, but they can’t because they have some children with them. Now I am sure there are tons of great things about having kids, and I don’t personally hate them or anything…but really life seems so complicated by them. For example, we were at the grocery store wandering around and looking for something interesting for dinner. We were chatting about something unrelated and stopped once in awhile to grab an item or discuss which brand/product we wanted.  Then we observed the “lots-a-kids” family. It was mom pushing one of those carts that 2 kids can sit in (and there were 2 kids) and 4 other children walking around Dad as they “shopped”. They were a noisy bunch and mom and dad looked so miserable (and in fact the screeching was making anyone in earshot miserable) because they had to go so slowly, the kids were grabbing and whining, and it seemed that it was just an all out stress-fest. Why do people do that? (a) Can’t you leave the kiddos at home with one parent? (b) clearly, those two could not control 6 kids….maybe there’s something to be said for not being out numbered 300%?.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in any case, when comparing their shopping experience (stress, loud, whiny, long, etc) and ours (leisurely, short, just Mr. First Year asking for things :) I don’t know why I would trade. So, thank you loud annoying family, you made me realize just how thankful I am for still having some independence and having a much more tame life because I don’t have kids. In that light, I guess I should thank birth control as well. Thanks condoms and Ortho!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Tree Farmers- Totally random but we picked out our tree this weekend (a Balsam Fir) and its beautiful. A big, full and obscenely wide tree, I love it, but we’re sort of lagging on the decorations. We have the lights on and some garland and ornaments, but its just such a huge tree I have a feeling it will be a process.  So, tree farmer, who grew my tree for 9-11 years….Thanks!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else thankful for anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116481352891247974?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116481352891247974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116481352891247974&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116481352891247974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116481352891247974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/11/things-to-be-thankful-for.html' title='Things to be Thankful For'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116421128230234859</id><published>2006-11-22T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T05:25:18.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pre-Thanksgiving Rants</title><content type='html'>I can’t decide which of the rants I have going in my head today I actually want to write about, but I’ll just get them all out there. I figure clearing my mind before Thanksgiving will be good for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Office Food- For some reason people in offices just love (and I mean really love) free food. Something about having food, eating all you want, and not having to pay a penny makes some people go wild. Well the problem with this is that sometimes food comes with strings attached.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week an invitation was extended to the office to attend a presentation about how business in our industry was done in another country, led by a person in the industry from that country. In order to offer an incentive for people to come to the presentation they had catered breakfast for those attending the meeting. Well I went to the meeting, and it was actually pretty interesting and the breakfast was good. Mainly, I was interested in the lecture (the women who led it is an excellent speaker), I wanted to blow off 2 hours of my work day, and I don’t mind being fed breakfast (it was delicious). However, several employees walked into the room before the meeting started, loaded up their plates with food and….took them back to their desks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse me, but the food is for the people in the meeting. If there is food left over after the meeting its also put in the lunch room and anyone can have whatever they want. However, to go in before the meeting, in front of all of your bosses, take the food meant for other people before they could have any, and then to leave the room and not even listen to the lecture the bosses wanted people to go to…..wow, just wow. You really looked greedy and just tacky. Don’t do that. You folks are probably the same people who sneak into the conference rooms when there is a catered lunch and steal sandwiches, making someone in the meeting go without, and forcing us to order 20% more food then we need to because you’re so free-food hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point: Taking free food not meant for you before the people it was meant for and in front of the big wigs makes you look stupid. Don’t do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Thinking for Yourself- Working, living life, and generally being an adult require some level of independent decision making, value judgments, and preferences. So, why is it so tough for some people to do anything by themselves without having to ask a million questions? Let me demonstrate this in a scenario form:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say I start a new job and one of my duties includes putting away office supplies. There I am, standing with a huge box of office supplies with me, I know where both the copy room and the supply room are. Is the right things to do…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scenario A:  Pick up each object and call some other employee and ask where it goes. Do this for everything. Call for pens, call for pencils, call for the ball point pens and gel pens separate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scenario B:  Look in the supply/copy room and see where similar (or even more of the same) supplies are kept and put away as much as possible. Then, at the end, if there are things I truly cannot figure out a place for I can ask about them all at one time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer should be obvious. Nothing slows down my day more and makes my blood boil faster then a person who doesn’t even try to find the answer to their own question before asking someone else. If I need some file on the company shared drive I don’t randomly call the boss over my direct boss and ask him, that would be completely stupid. I look for the damn file myself and most likely I will find it. If I cannot find it then I ask an employee around me, I don’t bother the boss with inane and stupid questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point: If you have a question, try to answer it yourself first. If you can’t, ask a co-worker. If they don’t know then ask your immediate supervisor. Do not just call a person several steps up the ladder from you and ask them something you could easily find out yourself with 10 seconds of investigation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Leave People Alone- With the travel season here to stay for another month or so I would like to remind people to leave others alone when those people clearly don’t want to chat with you. This applies to trains, buses and planes (especially planes since this is how I will be traveling and I don’t want you to bug me). A few hints that someone does NOT want to chat with you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-         They are reading a book&lt;br /&gt;-         They are listening to music&lt;br /&gt;-         They are writing&lt;br /&gt;-         They are working on their laptop&lt;br /&gt;-         They are already engaged in a conversation with their travel companion&lt;br /&gt;-         They are on the phone&lt;br /&gt;-         They are staring out of the window and enjoying the view&lt;br /&gt;-         They are watching a movie&lt;br /&gt;-         They are playing a game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, a few hints for when a person MIGHT be up for a little chat:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-         When you sit down next to them they give you a big great smile and start talking to you&lt;br /&gt;-         They respond in a chatty way to pleasantries&lt;br /&gt;-         They aren’t distracted by the above mentioned things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really…this shouldn’t be needed. It should be automatic and obvious when another person is busy and does not want to engage in banter with you and when the person is receptive to chatting to pass the time. Please see the difference, and please leave the people who don’t you near them alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that felt good. Happy Thanksgiving Everyone :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116421128230234859?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116421128230234859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116421128230234859&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116421128230234859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116421128230234859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/11/pre-thanksgiving-rants.html' title='Pre-Thanksgiving Rants'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116412751011716427</id><published>2006-11-21T08:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T15:26:38.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>People You Meet at Work: Trust Fund Brat</title><content type='html'>One of the most infuriating people I have met at work by far, this overgrown brat cannot be avoided, it cannot be understood, and it cannot be tolerated without cringing. The specific trust fund brat I speak of is a new employee. He graduated from a prestigious school in the area and was taking a low level job in an administrative position, so I was a little suspicious about him to begin with. My suspicions were right on the dot because it wasn’t long before he revealed himself for who he really is: An overindulged brat, without a brain cell in his head, happy to live off of his rich parents then to accomplish for himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after he started I found out that he hadn’t worked for a year before starting at my company. When I offered my sympathy that it had been that long (perhaps trying to commiserate, I hated being out of work and couldn’t wait to get back to earning an income) he just gave me a weird look and said, “oh it wasn’t a big deal I enjoyed having the time to just relax”. Well, I let it go, but thinking about it not too many folks in my age range can just take a year off from working and relax, mainly because we have rent to pay and groceries to buy, car payments to make, and other financial obligations many of which cannot be reduced below a bare minimum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later he casually mentioned that he was a little tired because he was hung over from being out late the night before. Hey I can sympathize,  until he continued to say that his friend who had gone out with him didn’t have to work and he wishes he was still doing that. I questioned a little further and discovered his friend lived entirely off of a trust fund, something the new employee was doing for the past year….until his father told him to go to work for a little while at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you’d think with all that money to go to college (a top school in fact, the most prestigious in my area…) without having to work, the private tutors, the successful parents that this guy would at least be half competent. But he ISN’T, not in the least bit. I do not want to demean his job, but it includes such complicated duties as: answering the phones, greeting guests and directing them, opening a department’s mail, and other mainly simple tasks. But this guy cannot seem to do it. So below, just because I dislike him so much are the things he’s done so far to show that he is a spoiled rotten moron who would never make it in the real world without Daddy’s money and power, which is undoubtedly the reason he was able to secure admission and graduation from his college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Office Repairs- As I said one of his jobs is to greet visitors and direct them. So, when 2 men with a ladder and a light bulb came into the office and announced, “We’re here to replace the light bulk in the ____________ room” one would expect him to simply lead the repair people into that room and let them replace the light bulb. But not this genius, he buzzed me in my office and asked me to come up because, “some guys are here with a light”. If he couldn’t figure that out, I am not sure I trust him to keep breathing without forgetting and suffocating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Mail- Another job, getting the mail for a few people. Dealing with mail is really a 3 part job, so perhaps I am over simplifying it. Part One: Get mail from mailroom 3x a day at predetermined times. Part Two: Sort mail and give it to people it belongs to. Part Three: Take mail that people have written and bring it TO the mail room so that it can be mailed.  So, when I walked by his desk today at around noon I was not pleased to see a piece of mail I had addressed and placed in his “Outgoing Mail” bin for mailing, still sitting there. I asked if he had checked the mail yet that day (or on the previous Friday) he answered “Not yet.”, and I just couldn’t understand….given that his other duties encompassed about an hour a day of actual work,  what the hell he was doing that he was so busy he has not yet gotten a chance to check the mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Simple Office Things- Ordering supplies goes over your head, you couldn’t call the people who provide the water cooler and tell them it was broken. Call a dishwasher repair man? Yea, not for you. There is such a long list of things you are “Unsure about” or “Have no idea about” that I really wonder what the hell you do know anything about. You simply have no uses. You routinely hang up on people because you don’t get the phone system. You take paper messages and then lose them because you don’t like to transfer calls to voice mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, I suspect that the following is the only thing you are even remotely capable of doing with any sort of achievement:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-         Sitting on your ass&lt;br /&gt;-         Shopping&lt;br /&gt;-         Chatting on the phone&lt;br /&gt;-         Looking at yourself in the mirror&lt;br /&gt;-         Whining about how hard your life is and how you just haaaave to get awwwwwaaaay.&lt;br /&gt;-         Arguing with Daddy about how much you get next month&lt;br /&gt;-         Booking trips to see your trust fund friends&lt;br /&gt;-         Drinking&lt;br /&gt;-         Wasting space&lt;br /&gt;-         Eye rolling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go on and on but I wont. But I do hope you go away soon because you are just a worthless human being. I just don’t get how you could have graduated grade school and still be as stupid as you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently no amount of money and no size of trust fund will be able to purchase simple intelligence and aptitude for employment (or life in general).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116412751011716427?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116412751011716427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116412751011716427&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116412751011716427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116412751011716427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/11/people-you-meet-at-work-trust-fund.html' title='People You Meet at Work: Trust Fund Brat'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116352264108445059</id><published>2006-11-14T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T08:36:35.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You’re a BAD BAD Employee!!!</title><content type='html'>Things at work, when I do most of my blogging, have really been a little nutty and tense lately. Most of the problems surround a few misfit employees and their crazy antics. As a public service announcement, I would like to kindly ask that other people please refrain from the following behaviors. I know this is the free world and we can all do whatever it is that we feel like…but as one my favorite sayings go, just because you CAN do something doesn’t mean you SHOULD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Quit Gracefully-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you’ve already given your notice and your future at the company is limited just relax and ride it out until the end. You’re leaving on good terms, let it just stay that way. I can understand your lack of enthusiasm and of course if I were you I would be rolling in late and spending hours trolling the internet instead of doing my work…but the key is to still show up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re leaving anyhow, and I know you don’t have another job lined up. So why is it that you called out 2 days last week pleading an awful illness (that made several people here fret for your health and well being) and then just didn’t come back to work? Are you really ill and sitting in a gutter somewhere? Or are you just an incredible jack ass. Unfortunately I am afraid you’re a jack ass because your position requires that someone be doing it each and every day and your replacement has yet to be found, since you were “Staying” for your notice period (and in fact stayed for about half of it, thanks!). So…. Thanks a lot for screwing us all, me especially since I got to pick up the slack for you until they find a permanent replacement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Delegate Duties to Right People-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a helpful person, so if I happen to see a pile of mail sitting around I will take mine and give the rest to the people it belongs to. If I need to take something to the FedEx both I ask the people around me if they have anything they need to take. This does not mean I am an administrative assistant, a secretary or anything of the sort. I’m still an accountant and if you call me up and rudely tell me the front message box has the message light blinking and that you want it checked because you want to know if its for you I wont care and I wont help you. But…I WILL be insulted and think less of you. And since we’re more peers in the company then you being my superior (which you in way are) I suggest you don’t piss me off too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that will leave me wondering what planet you came done from include: Asking me to run and get coffee, getting ALL the mail and sorting it, making you photocopies, sending a fax for you, or taking notes for you at a meeting. As you storm into my OFFICE (notice the door, the desk….very much unlike where the secretary sits at the front desk and nothing like the cubicles in the hallway the admins reside in) and thrust a pile of crap at me *telling* me to do something with it, I will get annoyed. Don’t get me wrong if you need a favor and ask me nicely, which includes the word please, most likely I will just do your chore when I do mine. But in no way am I going to be setting up a precedent that I act as your assistant. Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Learn to Take Non-Verbal Cues-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I am busy, we all get there once in awhile and most of us just shut our doors and get to work. But you…you never get the subtle hints that I don’t want to chat or catch up with you.  Apparently having my door closed (not open even a crack) is no deterrent to you surprises me, but moving on…. Does my desk, completely covered in paperwork, the excel spreadsheet on my screen, and my tired glazed over expression not indicate this isn’t a good time? But when I decided to be less subtle and say, “Oblivious Co-Worker, I am a little busy right now, can I catch you later on?” you sulk and act as if I have insulted you in some way. Would saying, “Get the fuck out of my office!!! Don’t you know what time of the billing cycle it is? I don’t have time for inane conversation with you. LEAVE.”, be better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Trust the “Experts”-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am no HR or Accounting expert. But I did graduate college with a degree in both fields and have worked in accounting for several years. I am also the HR admin now apparently. So, when New Girl filled her tax form out wrong and I mentioned to her that she was incorrect I didn’t really expect her to argue with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So folks, let me tell you. We’re just being friendly. I honestly don’t give a flying fuck if you fill your tax form out wrong. Its your problem not mine, I am just trying to save you a headache at the end of the year. If you overpay your taxes, no big deal you’ll get them back, but you’re giving a loan to the IRS for free. However, if you overstate your deductions and underpay your taxes you’ll owe more (much more) at the end of the years. And unless you’re making quarterly payments in anticipation of this, it can really smack you in the face because it adds up if you’re not saving it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, when I tell you that you can’t claim a deduction, believe me. I gain nothing from helping you properly fill out your tax forms. And definitely don’t argue with me and act as if I don’t know what I am talking about, because I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for letting me get that out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116352264108445059?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116352264108445059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116352264108445059&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116352264108445059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116352264108445059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/11/youre-bad-bad-employee.html' title='You’re a BAD BAD Employee!!!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116309963307408387</id><published>2006-11-09T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T04:08:03.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Gays :(</title><content type='html'>With the close of the polls the endless political ads that we all love to hate have all been mercifully removed from our TVs. I had my favorites (Michael Steele likes puppies but he LOVES George Bush) and not so favorites (Webb…. Right for 06….1806), but now they are all finally gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end the democrats prevailed in VA (I believe today was the first day it was safe to say Webb won without some one freaking out about recounts and the such) and both the house and senate turned blue. It still feels like a hollow victory, mostly because of the first ballot question in Virginia, which passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently it wasn’t enough for Virginian’s to refuse to allow gay marriages. So, then they decided to not acknowledge a gay marriage performed somewhere that such a practice was legal. But yet this still wasn’t enough and all civil unions and any other “marriage equivalent” was removed as an option. But someone still wasn’t happy and decided to was time to change the constitution of the state to make damn sure that marriage was defined as between ONE women AND ONE man, because I guess… they wanted to make 100% sure gays were not marrying in Virginia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hopes it would fail miserable, because I like to think that most people are of the reasonable variety. But that was not the case. Even though in Northern VA, where I reside 70% of people looked at the question and said, “ What???? No…..” the rest of the fucking hicks in this state decided writing discrimination right into the state constitution was the way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to hear one reason, just one that is NOT based entirely on religious views of what marriage is and is not about why gay people shouldn’t do whatever gay thing they want (including marrying each other). Is the fear that the illegality of gay marriage was what was keeping most of the population straight? So, if gays could marrying most of us straight folks would yell, “Woooohooo!!!!” and promptly grab the nearest member of the same sex and run down to the justice of the peace? Because if that’s the case….you’re just stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there’s my favorite argument that once we let gay people marry then we will have to allow bestiality, incest and pedophilia too. Can someone explain this to me? Homosexuality = 2 consenting human adults deciding to be gay together, right? Bestiality = 1 consenting adult (or one would hope…) and 1 animal who does not have the ability to consent or not. Can people not see the difference? Sex acts that happen between humans and between animals are not comparable. Incest? Well personally I couldn’t give a crap less if people want to fool around with their relations, personally I find the idea unpalatable but really who am I do judge? The only exception to this would be if one of the relations was….a minor. And that brings us to the pedophilia thing. This is the dumbest comparison of them all. When someone molests a child it is not a consensual act, when someone engages in gayness, it is consensual (unless another crime is going on, but that’s a different story).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But none of that matter….gay people are “unnatural” and gay marriage will “cheapen the institution of marriage” (right but celeb marriages that last 10 minutes don’t….) and whatever type of “reasons” people have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am definitely NOT proud to call myself a Virginian, and I hope the people who decided to change our constitution are ashamed of themselves, but I know they aren’t, smug assholes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:( First Year-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(P.S. Hi Mr. First Year :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116309963307408387?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116309963307408387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116309963307408387&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116309963307408387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116309963307408387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/11/poor-gays.html' title='Poor Gays :('/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116282847566592996</id><published>2006-11-06T07:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T05:24:40.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tattling: Not Just for Kids Anymore!</title><content type='html'>Even as adults none of us want to be a tattle tale or a rat. I hate telling on people and I unless something really horrendous was going on, I would not tell on people at work or otherwise. This is why I hate the situation Bitch Project Manager has put me in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite what anyone thinks my job is, foremost during this time of the month it is to invoice all the people that should be giving us money. This is an important job because we need money to pay all the people who work here, pay the rent, and so on. Most people understand our need to be paid and cooperate with me in my mission to make sure all the invoices are correct and sent out in a timely manner. In fact, everyone but Bitch PM has given the information I need on time and generally not completely aggravated me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not this raging bitch, she is simply do busy to do a task that will take her approximately 5 minutes to accomplish and is the sole thing holding me up from sending out invoices for about 50-60% of our clients. I am pissed beyond  belief, every day spent in the office is a waste of my fucking time because there is nothing more I can possibly do until this moron get her act together long enough to type some information into a computer that she should have been doing all month long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the beginning I asked her nicely when she would get the info in. She assured me it would be in only 2 whole days after the deadline. Well here we are 6 days before the deadline and still nothing from her. I tried emailing her and she hasn’t answered. Calling her offices affords me a, “I’m busy I’ll buzz you when I am done” (the buzzing never happens). And today my all time favorite when I just walked into her office this morning she looked at me, while drinking coffee and reading the post and said, “I am busy, maybe by the end of the day.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, if this women wants to power struggle with someone half her age I guess she should do whatever makes her feel good about herself. But seriously I wanted to send these invoices out on the 1st or 2nd at the latest. Its not the 6th, what the fuck is the matter with you? Also, when you send our interoffice memos looking for reading material to help pass the time it makes me painfully obvious to me that you aren’t really all that busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you don’t want to get your shit it, know that you have pushed me to the end of my rope. I was patient, understanding, and amicable until you blatantly thrust your power trip in my face. So I sent the following email it our collective boss:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Boss,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having some trouble with invoicing this month and I was wondering if you mind advise me on the best course action. All the invoices, except for those accounts managed by Bitch went out on the 1st and 2nd, however Bitch’s clients cannot be billed because I am missing key information. I have asked Bitch for this information but she has yet to provide it. Since Bitch has not responded to my emails, calls or visits I do not know what more I can do to get these invoices out. I wondered if you might be able to talk with her to see what might be holding up her end of things. Thank you so much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I really wanted to say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Boss,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bitch is at it again! I got all the invoices that don’t involve her out the door as planned on the first and second, but she had made it impossible for me to do my job to this day. She needs to get some fucking info into the computer, a process she should have been doing all month long and would seriously take her 15 minutes or less now but she has failed to do it. I have asked her over a dozen times over email, the phone, and in person to get this info so I can bill our clients….but she wont budge. Since she has such a large chunk of our clients in her responsibility I haven’t billed xxx,xxxx this month. Bitch is going around reading Marie Claire while I wait day in and day out for her to do her work. Well, I give up. You talk to the bitch because apparently I am not high enough on the ladder to warrant her actually doing her fucking job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which do you think I should send?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok…vent over!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Don't forget to check out God Lady Below, Blogger hated me this past week :( )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116282847566592996?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116282847566592996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116282847566592996&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116282847566592996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116282847566592996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/11/tattling-not-just-for-kids-anymore.html' title='Tattling: Not Just for Kids Anymore!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116282217851247652</id><published>2006-11-06T06:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T18:40:01.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>People You Meet at Work: God Lady</title><content type='html'>I don’t know about you folks but almost every place I have worked that was reasonably large had at least one person, always a woman, who loves Jesus. She loves him A LOT, not the normal religious type of love, but the type of deep sitting obsession that permeates into everything they say and do. You know the type, they just cannot shut up about Jesus, the dying on the cross bit, the sacrificing for the sins, and on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course my current gig is no different and I have the extreme pleasure of getting to work closely with this woman, as she is the manager of a department I must work closely with. At first things with God Lady (“GL”) started out nicely enough, but quickly the mention of religion, Jesus, heaven and hell got to be simply too much for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the next time GL was in my office I casually mentioned being made uncomfortable by all the Jesus-talk and she flipped out. “The only reason someone doesn’t want to hear about and talk about the Lord is because they haven’t accepted him heart and soul.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I informed GL that not only was I not Christian (I am a Jew…go figure, a Jewish accountant and soon to be lawyer) that I and simply not religious at all. Well she flipped, apparently she didn’t want my Jew soul to rot in hell ( that’s so sweet) so she made it her mission to show me Jesus in everyday life, and the “Miracles that he creates all around us”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miracle 1: “The Magic of the Automobile”-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GL: “ Say FY, do you ever wonder when you start your car how exactly humans progressed from walking everywhere to driving these marvels of creation?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY: “No, I don’t have to wonder, I am pretty familiar with the history of the automobile.”&lt;br /&gt;GL: “You know that technology was given to made by God. Man is simply, but with God great things are possible”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY: “No, I am pretty sure the technology was slowly developed overtime by man. But if you want to think God did it, that’s fine.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miracle 2: “God Makes Rainbows”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GL: “Just look at the gorgeous  rainbow God left for us to gaze at.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY: “No, that’s what happens when rain and sun mix, but its quite lovely.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miracle 3: “God Makes Babies”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GL (about a pregnant coworker): “Wow, Jill sure is glowing with that little treasure God put in her baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY: “GL- please stop the I don’t want to think about how Jill got pregnant, but in any case I don’t think it was god that put anything anywhere.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it didn’t stop there. Every time I saw her, it was Jesus Jesus Jesus. He died for me, he loves me, he accepts me as imperfect. Well I got fed up. So any of you out there dealing with your own God Lady…just bitch to HR immediately. These people have no shame, no common sense, and polite attempts to let them know their line of conversation makes you uncomfortable and is inappropriate for the work place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, don’t bother. Ring up the HR person and tell them GL is harassing you about Jesus, if its anything like my GL it won’t be the first complaint!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Side note, I have been MIA because Blogger hates me. I have about 4 posts I have tried to put up this week, all rejected by blogger. Boooo)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116282217851247652?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116282217851247652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116282217851247652&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116282217851247652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116282217851247652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/11/people-you-meet-at-work-god-lady.html' title='People You Meet at Work: God Lady'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116222300908111660</id><published>2006-10-30T07:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T14:35:53.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back :)</title><content type='html'>Well I have been MIA lately… first I was travel a little and then it was the weekend. But I am back with another work week, which of course will bring more adventures. Since there are a few things I wanted to write about I think I will do so, list style. I hope everyone had a great weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Things that DON’T belong on the roads during rush hour-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Farm equipment. That’s right, huge slow moving farm equipment about 1 mile from the DC and Northern Virginia line heading into the city. While this piece of equipment annoyed me because it caused a huge delay, as it was so large it took up 2 lanes and was moving at about 5 miles per hour with no way to pass it and still be able to take the lanes I wanted to take. But, it did give me time to reflect, mainly on what the fuck a piece of huge ass farm equipment was doing in DC? Is there a huge farm there I am missing? Is rush hour the right  time to move big dirty farm equipment? Is the person driving the equipment simply a crazy farmer who has gone wild and is now gallivanting in his favorite piece of farm equipment and felt that rush hour traffic would be more exciting? Lesson: Don’t drive big, cumbersome and slow vehicles (and I use the term loosely) on the highway in rush hour traffic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. People at work you should NOT piss off:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The admin staff! People at the DC office are so freaking lazy they have someone here to do everything for you. File admin, copy admin, binding admin, errand admin, etc. It doesn’t end they all do something different. Most of them are friendly people and if you just treat them as if you would treat anyone else in the office and say “please” and “thank you” things will go fine. What you should not do it fling a stack of papers at the copy admin, glare at her and tell her those better be done before you haul your fat ass off to lunch or else her she’ll be looking for another job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you not notice she’s like 17 years old? Didn’t you think that screaming at her (before she even had the chance to fuck up your copies) would make her burst into tears, rattle her nerves and also make it that much more likely she will be so unnerved that she’ll make a mistake? No, you didn’t. Nor did you think about the fact that all the copy admins talk amongst themselves, and she would tell them all what a piece of shit you are. Well, she did and now when they make their rounds twice a day to check to see if anyone needs something done (aren’t they so nice?) you get mysteriously skipped and also have to hoist yourself off of your chair and go down to the copy room yourself. Lesson: Do not fuck with the admins!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Racist Sentiments you SHOULD keep to yourself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized I was not in northern Virginia anymore on a short little business trip to the heart of the bible belt last week. I realized my faux pas and suggesting a restaurant when I was told, “Na, we can’t go there that’s where the Negroes eat. If we go to xxxxxx it’ll be whites only.” I wondered how it was possible in the days of non-segregation and black people and white people drinking out the same fountains and sitting next to each other on the metros and buses to have a white restaurant and a black restaurant. (un) Fortunately I was shown how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went into this rather expensive place and the only black people to be seen were some people in the kitchen. Seriously not a black person eating in sight! And this just makes me wonder what it is about eating with people of a different color in the same room with you that is so offensive to these people? Are they worried that they’ll catch black? Because you can’t catch it, it’s a skin pigment thing. I guess being the Yankee that I am I don’t possess the deep seated hatred for people who look a bit different then me that some deep southerners have. But really….isn’t it about time to give that up? Black people are everywhere. They go to my law school, they work in my office, they ride cars on the same highways as me, and one even :::gasp:::: lives next door to me. So what’s the issue? And anyhow, I think black people have gotten it long enough…they could at least spice up their racism and pick a new group….no? Lesson: Try eating in the same place a “colored” and see what happens, I bet its nothing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well. I will leave you with that bit of randomness. I hate to sound cliché…..but Monday does really suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116222300908111660?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116222300908111660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116222300908111660&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116222300908111660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116222300908111660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/10/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back :)'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116170215545134053</id><published>2006-10-24T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T06:19:34.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate Driving in DC!!!</title><content type='html'>Once again I am in the city doing this and that for work. After living in this area for over 5 years and driving around here for over 3 I still have a few vents about the City and the fine people who drive around here daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Tourists- Stay the fuck off of the roads during the morning rush hour. Please???? You don't need to be at the monuments at 8:30 am. Not only is it cold but it will take you an hour to drive here in the early morning but only 10 minutes if you leave an hour or an hour and a half later. You really just make things worst because you don't know where you are going, you drive in the wrong lane, you don't look where you're going because you've got 5 screaming kids in the car, and you're from some area of the country where traffic doesn't happen and you're flustered and baffled. Also, please stay off of the metro during this time too. Let us get to work and then you can see all the monuments, memorials, and museums you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Taxi cabs and Buses...Is there some sort of competition to see who can hit the most cars and pedestrians and whoever wins gets a year paid off (while its under investigation perhaps....)? If not I simply don't understand why the cab drivers all seem to think that their car and my car can share the same space together. And buses....Please look instead of just pulling out into the road, there might be cars there! Also, if you narrowly avoid hitting me do not glare at me as if I was somehow in the wrong. You were parked (with an out of service sign on your display) and I was driving in the road. Apparently while I was sitting in traffic next to you, you decided it was time to move again and simply slammed your bus on and started moving....Even though traffic on the road had yet to start moving. Apparently you were pissed you couldn't move because of the cars stopped all around you...I hate that myself, sorry to ruin your day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Dumb-ass people in general- Whenever I am driving in DC I often notice tons of people just randomly stopped in the road. Not on the side of the road where parked cars might be, just all over the road. Its like a maze to find the empty slots where my car can fit and get into them before someone gets there first and randomly stops in the middle of the road. Some of these people are looking for parking (fair enough, I know that can be a bitch) and some of them are looking for the numbers on the building (Ok there as well), but most seem to be simply contemplating the great mysteries of life, baby talking with their dog, or sometimes having an argument on their cell phones. So I have to beg of these people. Please don't randomly stop in the middle of the road, and if you ARE already randomly stopped in the road don't just randomly start moving again when people are trying to pass you (because you're not moving). Try a turn signal or maybe you could turn your flashers off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from that little driving in DC vent I got an excellent question via a comment (anonymous of course, but that’s OK because I have his IP address, service provider and location and Comcast is currently getting me his- I assume you could only be male, please forgive me if I am wrong- information so I can answer this question personally) and wanted to make sure he got an answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you read my post below you'll know I was a little down on Sunday thinking about all the troops over in Iraq and elsewhere fighting a war that no one here seems to pay any attention to. I expressed a hope that they would make it back safely. Apparently, I am such a whore the following question was asked of me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous Moron Says: "Why didn't you just blow him? You usually do that when drunk."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... there were a few reasons I didn't immediately drop to my knees and blow him (though of course this was my first instinct being on a whore-off free). Also, I wonder what your definition of "usually" is.... because if it means just one time you really need to repeat that special ed third grade class of yours, your mom is soooo going to beat your ass when she finds out you've been using the internet again :) But here are the reason that service person wasn't blown by me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Lack of Facilities: Yes there was a men’s and a women’s room in the bar but all of the stalls were so tiny it really would have been uncomfortable and I really don't like to eat or drink in the bathroom....just the "ick factor" you know. The rest of the bar was packed, and while at first I thought I might just be able to crawl under a table I realized they were all taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Our Significant Others- Though you know I always (read once) cheat on Mr. First Year I was unable to sway this soldier from letting go of monogamy to his wife. I tried hard, don't worry....but alas it was not to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I am trying to reform my drunken blow job giving ways. I always thought when drunk to just stick whatever dick was available into my mouth....but apparently that’s a faux pas of some sort. So I am working on it. Aren't you proud of me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a Happy Tuesday All :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116170215545134053?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116170215545134053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116170215545134053&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116170215545134053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116170215545134053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-hate-driving-in-dc.html' title='I Hate Driving in DC!!!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116155147162924834</id><published>2006-10-22T14:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T10:32:33.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Free to Watch Football?</title><content type='html'>I have a confession, a dirty secret that only others suffering from the same affliction know about. You see, I am a New Englander living in DC and therefore am a huge, jersey wearing, trash talking, loud ass Patriots fan. Today being Sunday I was of course at the Patriots Fan Club bar watching the game against the Buffalo Bills. My team won and I was excited and shots were flowing. Then a conversation I had with another fan really saddened my and put the “victory” into perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A guy at the bar was wearing the same number jersey as me, an unusual player I hadn’t seen anyone else wear, and we struck up a conversation. It turns out that he is a US Marine and was home briefly between tours of duty. This was going to be the last Patriots game he would see in a bar in the USA this season, and possibly next season as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it just struck me as incredibly sad. He was stateside for such a short period of time and what he missed most was the freedom of screaming at the top of his lungs in a bar, drinking a beer and doing victory shots after touch downs. The rest of us were going home and on with out live yelling, “see you next week” as we left the bar. But we aren’t going to see him next week. I hope we see him next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just made me want to remember and recognize that as normal as life seems back in this country thousands and thousands of men and women are over in the middle east fighting a battle some say can’t and wont be won. I am not going to get off into a political tangent about the war. I don’t think wanting to support the troops over there and wanting to remember not all Americans are living like we are (free to move around, mostly safe, able to go to the bar and catch a game).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So…love Bush or hate Bush, think this war is a way to spread democracy and find weapons of mass destruction or a way to distract the American public from the problems within the administration…it just doesn’t matter. We all hope that we see those men and women again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s all….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116155147162924834?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116155147162924834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116155147162924834&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116155147162924834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116155147162924834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/10/free-to-watch-football.html' title='Free to Watch Football?'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116135403724565245</id><published>2006-10-20T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T16:40:26.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF????</title><content type='html'>WTF? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently a few things have gotten me scratching my head and a little puzzled. Maybe on you guys can enlighten me or show me where my thinking is faulty…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. There is a group with chapters all over the world (mainly in the USA and Canada) for people who are child free. The group is open for membership to any person, of any age, ethnicity, religion, etc with the only rule being that the person has never had a child. That’s a hard and fast rule. They make an “exception” for people whose partners have had a child but not the person themselves (and the child does not live with them, etc). The person without the child can become a member and the person with the child can be brought as their guest, but cannot be a member and cannot come without the child-free partner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This makes sense to me, its simple enough. The group is a social group for people who don’t currently have and have never had children. Aren’t their enough mommy and me groups, parenting groups, activities for parents? Apparently this group has managed to offend a group of women in Georgia, who feel that this group is “hostile” towards mothers and motherhood and should be disbanded because they discriminate on people based on their reproductive choices. Right….because child-free people are never discriminated against because they don’t have kids.  But I just don’t get it….this is ONE group of singles and couples who don’t want kids (some love kids, some hate kids, some are apathetic) who just want to hang out with each other and not have to deal with bed-times, diaper tales, listening to kid updates, or whatever else. But they shouldn’t be able to do that because parents who HAVE children are prohibited from joining a CHILD-FREE group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the fuck is wrong with these women? Why would they want to join this group anyhow? They aren’t child free!!!! Well, they say they should have the right to join because (and I do quote), “Even devoted mommies and daddies deserve some adult time.” WTF? You want to have your adult time with a group of people who don’t want kids? Why????? No offense but I love adult time…but you wont find me at Lamaze class to hang out with the pregnant moms. So please, someone explain this to me….please???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Sometime last week I was at my fine local recreation center with a friend of mine, we are taking a class this fall together and we were just leaving the dance studio. While getting into her car (a Mercedes Benz…gotta love her well-off parents!) we were approached by two women in their mid twenties. Without going into great description about their identity and the nature of the neighborhood let me just say it was in an economically depressed area of a fairly non-economically depressed city and the two women were recipients of numerous city services (including housing, which was all around the rec-center). Well these fine young women walked up to us and had the following conversation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women: Hey, did you alls just get out of _____ class?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us: Yup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women: Well couldn’t you afford to take that class at the dance studio?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us: Umm, I don’t know…maybe. We just saw it offered and took it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women: Well the class is closed out and we who can’t afford to take it at the regular price can’t take it at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us: Ummm…. OK? I think registration was first come first serve….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women: These classes are cheap so people who cant afford classes can go and take them here. You should take them at dance studio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us: Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women: Because you have the money. What you’re doing is wrong, its like stealing from us!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us: Umm yea…. :::get into car and drive away:::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I wish I had laughed in the girl’s faces. It’s like stealing you???? HAHAHAAHA who the hell do you think subsidizes these classes for you? Umm… people who actually pay taxes in this city you moron. I resent the insinuation that just because we could technically afford to take the classes elsewhere (I looked it up and its about 3 times the price) we are wrong for taking advantage of the classes the city offers (no income limits, you just have to be a city resident).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lived in this city for over 3 years and have paid income and personal property tax the entire time…. But these lovely girls who leech off of others should get to take the classes my taxes pay for anyhow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on, out there is a champion for the poor who can explain that attitude to me…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that is all, I think that’s long enough :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116135403724565245?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116135403724565245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116135403724565245&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116135403724565245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116135403724565245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/10/wtf.html' title='WTF????'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116118628752456679</id><published>2006-10-18T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T20:07:10.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Frosty Bitch Strikes Again</title><content type='html'>If you’ve read this blog for any period of time you’re undoubtedly read about Frosty Bitch (see : FB Uses the Credit Card &lt;a href="http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/07/company-credit-card-part-one-frosty.html"&gt;http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/07/company-credit-card-part-one-frosty.html&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/08/dinner-with-frosty-bitch.html"&gt;http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/08/dinner-with-frosty-bitch.html&lt;/a&gt; )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I have had the recent pleasure to cross her path once more. This month she is irate (and I mean bat shit crazy) over some of the things charged on her company credit card that I charged to her and not the company. Edited (to protect the innocent and the asinine) enjoy the email I was so lucky to find in my inbox one recent morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There appears to be a mistake in the items being charged to me from the paycheck on xx/xx/2006. The following items and their corresponding charges must be refunded to me, as they are expenses that are related to XXXX.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Charge XXXX in the amount of $107.32&lt;br /&gt;- Charge XXXX in the amount of $291.12&lt;br /&gt;- Various Charges in the amount of $4.72 totally $188.90&lt;br /&gt;- Charge XXXX and XXXX in the amounts of $119.92 and $247.40&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The total of these charges comes to $954.66. Please make every attempt to avoid such inaccuracy in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frosty Bitch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well Frosty Bitch…there is a reason you weren’t reimbursed for those expenses, its because they were personal in nature and unrelated to the business of the company. I think it’s the same reason you named the charges by their line item number and not by the venue. Please enjoy my response&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Frosty Bitch&lt;br /&gt;CC: My Boss, the CFO (so he could see her insipid email)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have carefully reviewed the withholdings from your check and have found no inaccuracies. These charges were passed on to you because they are in fact personal in nature, however if there is a reason any of the following are expenses the company should pay for please alert me to them and I will fix the problem right away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Charge XXXX for $107.32 was from a venue called “Chuck-E-Cheese”, this is a child’s play venue and the charges represent a pizza party for 8 children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Charge XXXX for $291.12 shows that it was charged on xx/xx/2006 in San Francisco, during the time you visited family there on vacation. Further the receipt shows that the venue was a local attraction to which you bought 7 adult and 6 children’s tickets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The various charges for $4.72 (40 in total) amounting to $188.90 were all from Starbucks, some during the work day and many on nights and weekends near your home rather then the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The two charges XXXX ($119.92) and XXXX ($247.40) occurred at a dog grooming business, the first for the grooming of one of your dogs and the second for the grooming of 2 additional dogs. All of these dogs belong to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I have cleared up any question you might have. Please feel free to contact me should you need further assistance or have any other questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was annoyed and aggravated, so I CCed the CFO who hates Frosty Bitch (and saved me from working under her any longer). A few hours later he walked into my office and asked whether my description of the charges was a joke (they weren’t) and her charging inane things on the card was a regular occurrence (it is). He stormed off to talk to her. As of yet today she hasn’t replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do wonder what kind of dogs she’s grooming….I should have asked the groomer while I had her on the phone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year- :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116118628752456679?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116118628752456679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116118628752456679&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116118628752456679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116118628752456679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/10/frosty-bitch-strikes-again.html' title='Frosty Bitch Strikes Again'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116103164513401698</id><published>2006-10-16T13:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-18T05:34:04.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mind Purge Volume 2 :)</title><content type='html'>Well I haven't been posting as much because I have just been buried in work. I wanted to make a couple of random comments in no particular order, so here’s Mind Purge Volume 2 :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I am not anti-protester in general. In fact there was a lovely group of construction workers protesting the low wages (below industry level) that they are being paid. They were peacefully marching around a bunch of orange cones, people were still able to get by them on the street, and their shouts and screams were not belligerent. I don't know if yelling "Rat" at office workers (who are uninvolved in the situation) was the best use of their lungs but hey, to each their own. So, I too see the value in peaceful protesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. RE: Anonymous comments. Really…what is the point of writing something, “Not only are you an ass, but you also seem to have a problem with the appropriate use of the comma. Ass.” What the hell does that add? No seriously, can you tell me? Do you think I will see your comment and think, “Oh wow this fucking pussy who wont even sign his own name to his own inane comments thinks I have poor grammar (I have a “job” so not might not have as much time to type out eloquent responses as you might have…), I am so ashamed, I should quit writing my blog/take an grammar class/cry myself to sleep? Get a grip. Do you realize how much of a moron you sound like to me? Life has to be pretty pathetic for you, and I am sorry for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A second genius decides to write, “Wow. So you're an ass AND a whore” What no period at the end of your sentence??? Scandalous, anonymous number 1 (the grammar king) is going to be mad. Oh wait… I bet you spineless morons stick together. Does it make you feel good to call me a whore? Does it make you less of that scared little boy whose mommy didn’t love him enough? Well in that case, I am definitely a huge whore. A big honking whore, on a whorrific whoring spree if you will. Feel better? I sure hope so :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. As for the 3rd anonymous…know that I WAS going to publish your comment, however you made mention of something I’d prefer not to have on my blog anymore, so you’ll forgive me if I edit you comment, but I will respond to your question regardless. Your comment was witty, you’re right you couldn’t have said that if you weren’t anonymous, but I wish you had!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But I have been curious how you transitioned… to a tame domestic life”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty easily, you see I was not really ever too wild. However, when something wild did happen I would write about it on the blog. I wasn’t going to write about sitting around cooking dinner with Mr. First Year (who is not my husband, we simply live in sin). But now that I have a semi-entertaining job I write more about that. However, I do go on less drinking adventures (and my days with drugs are over really before they started), and Mr. First IS aware of my past extra-relationship activities and is OK with them and we have moved on and are a lot happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. WTF is up with my boss asking me for random reports throughout the day, and then when he gets them looking at the things like he has never seen something like that before? Please don’t act perplexed. I have even tried paper clipping your email asking for the report unto the report and you still seem confused, muttering, “Hmmm… this might be interesting to see….” I am at the point where I think I might just ignore your requests for numbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. New assistant, I like you and you’ll like me eventually. Can you please be less nervous around me? While it is slightly endearing, I really AM 3 years younger then you, easy going, and not in the office half the time. Why don’t we go out for a drink….maybe that will loosen you up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks- FY :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116103164513401698?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116103164513401698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116103164513401698&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116103164513401698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116103164513401698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/10/mind-purge-volume-2_16.html' title='Mind Purge Volume 2 :)'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116075054565405281</id><published>2006-10-13T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-15T15:36:07.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Responding to Anonymous Comment....</title><content type='html'>There was a comment to my last entry and I didn’t want it or my response to it to be buried into the comments, so I decided that I would give it, its own post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was posted by “anonymous” (of course, why would someone ever sign their own blogger name and or google/gmail name when it is so much easier to post anonymously. As you can see I do not really think too much of people who post in this manner). My comments in red :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You're an ass.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;That’s probably true. But isn’t everyone in some regard? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;”These students are protesting in a non-violent manner, expressing their displeasure at a president who was selected with none of their input, and someone who, as provost, did absolutely nothing to improve the university's graduation rate.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Yes, they are protesting in a non-violent manner but that doesn’t make my opinion, that their protests are counterproductive to their goal invalid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;She did nothing to improve the graduation rate? Could this be the fault of some of the students or as provost did she have the sole responsibility for people (adults who can make their own decisions in life) graduating from college? Maybe she can be more effective as president? Maybe when she is not effective she will be removed by the board. As for her selection with none of their input, I find it hard to believe that NO (as in zero) students were involved, asked, participated, etc in any way in the selection process. Do other Universities allow their students to pick their President? Well that would be nice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, but I see nothing about preventing others from getting their education that will help improve graduation rates. In fact, it seems the protests are hurting the quality of education at Gallaudet because it seems there is currently no education going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“They have every right to be pissed off, and good for them for doing something about it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;I agree, they have every right to be pissed off. And they could do something about it that wouldn’t prevent people who might need to work (hourly wage employees perhaps) from their work or students who might want to learn or need to learn from accessing their education. Can’t something be done without blocking access to the school? I think it could be. Perhaps the students that want to protest can stop going to class themselves in a form of protest, but to block other people’s education (some of whom do not want to be protesting with them) is inherently counterproductive.”Sure, they're keeping others from going to their classes, but the overall goal of the protest is to improve the standing of the school,…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea. Stopping the educationaly process with definitely help the standing of the schools. Academics and graduation rates improve drastically when students aren’t allowed to go to classes. That makes perfect sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; “…which, if you would actually take the time to read any articles about this matter, you would know is considered to be the most recognized school for the deaf in the world.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;See this is where your assumption about me is wrong. I have read dozens of articles, their own website about their protest. Along with that I am friends with several students who attend Gallaudet (and I can sign with an intermediate level of skill so that I am able to communicate with them) and I am also friends with a security officer at the campus (who has had to work hours and hours of overtime, miss many of her and her children’s activities). So I am aware and I am informed (and yes I know it’s the most recognized school for the deaf), but I simply (gasp) don’t agree with you. Hey it’s a free country so we can all make out own opinions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So, yes, the president of Gallaudet does actually have a lot to do with how deaf people are viewed in the world, so I think it's perfectly reasonable for these students to express their anger with the selection, particularly since their voices weren't initially heard.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;But you don’t think their behavior has any effect on how people deaf people are viewed in the world? I am sorry but I seriously think that as bad of an impression Jane might make people (who are these people???) making judgments about deaf people its got to be aggravated severely by the behavior of the protestors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;”People aren't viewing the protestors as "animals." That's just you, and probably other equally misinformed idiots who don't take the time to fully understand the situation.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;And again you’re wrong. I have followed this situation from the beginning, I am informed from all sides of the story and I don’t agree with you. I think their acting in a negative manner. I think they should simply be removed from the campus so that students who want to learn can do so. Also, so people who depend on hourly income from their jobs there can return to work and supporting their families. They absolutely have the right to express their opinions, and they have the right to chose how they express them. That doesn’t mean that everyone is going to think they are some sort of heroes standing up for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to treat deaf people or these deaf students any differently then any other students. I also won’t hold them to any lower standard of reasonable behavior. If some ignorant person decides to judge the entire deaf community by the president of one of their university (albeit one of the more prominent) then the problem is with them and not with the deaf community. It’s the same as judging all black people by 1 black person or all Jewish people by 1 Jewish person, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, I thank you for your comments (though an insult was not really needed, mature, or really productive to your point in any way) but I disagree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116075054565405281?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116075054565405281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116075054565405281&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116075054565405281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116075054565405281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/10/responding-to-anonymous-comment.html' title='Responding to Anonymous Comment....'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116066338732478073</id><published>2006-10-12T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:11:12.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span &gt;OK, I have been putting off talking about this topic for awhile because I didn’t want to be branded insensitive, or a deaf-hater. But here is the thing; I don’t discriminate against the deaf so I must write this post. You see, if these students weren’t deaf I would have been all over this immediately, but I was treating them differently because they were deaf (well treating them nicer, but still differently). So freak ass protesters at &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Gallaudet&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;University&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;…. What the fuck is wrong with you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span &gt;For my readers outside of DC, you might not know what I am talking about. The “quick” story is that the students at Gallaudet (a college for the deaf) are enraged because of the selection (and the selection process) of the new president of their university. They are pissed, they don’t want her to be president. At first they camped out in tents on campus, then they overtook the main classroom building and locked it down, preventing their sane classmates from getting the education they had paid for.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span &gt;At first I thought their problem with the president elect stemmed from her not being “deaf enough”, as she didn’t learn sign language until she was 23, therefore not being deaf in the “right” way. But apparently there is a deeper reason. They just think she’s plain incompetent and the selection process was tainted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span &gt;“&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Fernandes has said some people do not consider her "deaf enough" to be president. She was born deaf but grew up speaking and did not learn American Sign Language until she was 23. Those who are against her presidency, however, say she is an unsuitable choice for other reasons.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;From this story (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.examiner.com/a-337835~Students_blockade_campus_as_protests_escalate.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;http://www.examiner.com/a-337835~Students_blockade_campus_as_protests_escalate.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span &gt;)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span &gt;They are&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;PISSED!!!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;Protests over the next president at &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Gallaudet&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;University&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; intensified yesterday when the football team decided after midnight to join the demonstrations by blocking the campus gates, shutting down the school for the deaf”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/10/11/AR2006101100317.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/10/11/AR2006101100317.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;span &gt;Apparently the “real” problem these students have is that they feel that the new president will destroy the “good will” that deaf people have built in the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;USA&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; and the World. That’s right they are worried that her being elected will make people think differently or poorly because of the president of a college for deaf people. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;span &gt;I have this to say to the student protestors that think that an incompetent president can ruin the public perception of you, what the hell do you think what you are doing in response (rioting, locking down buildings, preventing people from going to school and work, and causing havoc) are doing to the public perception of your college? See I don’t care one way or another who the president of your deaf university is, I don’t care if she was picked over someone more qualified, I don’t care if she speaks (and you didn’t or couldn’t learn too) and didn’t learn to sign until she was 23. But what DOES make your community look bad is acting like a bunch of animals, blocking students who want to learn from their class rooms, blocking people who want to work (perhaps on an hourly basis, therefore hurting their livelihood) from getting there. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;span &gt;Furthermore, I think we need to have a little chat about University presidents, the selection process for them, and their general competence. Listen, I went to undergraduate school at a college where the president built a giant golden pillar in a giant glass hall (a display case for the pillar perhaps?) costing the students millions, all the while raising printing fees to 7 cents and 10 cents a page. Seriously, he was incompetent. I am less sure there was a selection process then you are. You know what to do? Bitch about it, whine about, graduate and then refuse to give the school money for screwing you over. Or…DEAL with it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"&gt;&lt;span &gt;Ahhh. Thank you :) First Year-&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116066338732478073?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116066338732478073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116066338732478073&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116066338732478073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116066338732478073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/10/ok-i-have-been-putting-off-talking.html' title=''/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116050732610027213</id><published>2006-10-10T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T09:49:33.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mind Purge</title><content type='html'>I don’t really have a topic or anything too specific to say, so I figured I would just have a few mini-rants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Lunch Buffet- I hate how you asshats (thanks Craig’s List) screw people for money. Is a pound of broccoli worth as much as a pound of general Tao’s chicken? No, it is not. So I resent the fact that I have to pick my lunch around what weighs the least not what is actually more expensive. So you will excuse my surprise when you told me that my total would be $7.31 for the salad I was holding. But when I returned to the office it became painfully clear where I had made my mistake. I took a few halves of eggs and placed them on top of my lettuce pile. Please ignore the fact that eggs can be bought for about 1.50 for a dozen. I guess that’s what I get for being too much of a lazy ass to pack my own lunch. Though they were the best 6.99 a pound eggs I have ever had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Blackberries- People, I know you’re stuck in traffic and all but is this really the best time for you to be reading your email/sports scores/etc? We are stopped right this second, but next second we will be moving. Except you wont move because you’re staring at your PDA. Instead 10 cars will cut in front of you, leaving all of us not even an inch closer to our homes. So please, drive and then when you’re safely in your home/driveway/wherever the hell you’re going THEN use the PDA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Company Credit Card User- Listen, I was not born yesterday. I appreciate you giving me your travel expense report super soon after your trip and all. Did you also think I would be so impressed I would not actually read it? Because I did in fact read it and I did notice that you were watching an awful lot of films in your room late in the evening. This could be since you came home late from meetings and the such, or it could be after you were done getting tanked at the bar in the lobby. You see there are times listed with the charges. So I can see you ate dinner at 7:30, closed out your bar tab at 1:15 and then ordered a “film” at 1:35. I shouldn’t assume the yours watching porn and hoping that the company will pay for it, but since you’ve already tried to slip in a purchase from an online porn retailer through my desk by marking it as “office supplies” I am going to assume my instincts are right. I believe I will go into your office tomorrow while someone else is in there and ask you which films you watched and how you enjoyed them. But then again I am a little evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The 4th quarter- I have nothing personally against the last quarter of the fiscal year, I mean who doesn’t love the holiday season. But every time a quarter closes there is always so much crap for me to do. So 3rd quarter I will miss you, I wish people kept better records during you. And 4th quarter, screw you….I hope we can learn to love each other in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok then, as you can see the ADD is in full swing (well I at least *wish* I could use that as an excuse)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116050732610027213?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116050732610027213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116050732610027213&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116050732610027213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116050732610027213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/10/mind-purge.html' title='Mind Purge'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116016547843270454</id><published>2006-10-06T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-21T02:10:56.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Workin It: Accountant Style</title><content type='html'>So today is a crappy day out, it’s raining, its dreary, it’s just overall yucky outside. So I was already a little cranky. Top this off with me forgetting my umbrella and having to run into DC to pick up some documents and, well as you can imagine I was not pleased. In fact I was wet and presumably scraggly looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, of course once one thing goes wrong most other things will usually follow. So, while gathering up the crack I needed to take with me I obviously had a pen in my mouth (I have quite the oral fixation) and being an accountant the pen was red. I go on minding my own business and mindlessly biting the pen, when it explodes all over my mouth, my face, my clothes, etc leaving me looking like a total wreck. I try as hard as I can to scrub the filthy red ink off of myself but to no avail. I decide that I am just going to get my crack and get the hell out of there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew that my plan involved me running across a busy DC street in the pouring rain (in tiny little heeled shoes) with my makeup dripping off of my face, my hair hanging down in strings and red ink all over my face and clothes, but I decided to just go for it. I mean the alternative was what? Staying there and hiding?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I ride down the elevator thankfully alone, and I begin my graceless walk across the street and what do I hear? “Hey baby, looking real hot. Lovin the way you work it honey.” I look over, in disbelief that in my present state someone would cat call me. But there they were 4 large black men hanging out of the windows on an Escalade shouting and making obscene gestures at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have to say to those four fine gentleman, thank you for making me aware that I still have “it” even with red ink all over my face, soaking wet, and generally exuding my less then sunny disposition. Apparently I was working it. Accountant style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116016547843270454?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116016547843270454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116016547843270454&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116016547843270454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116016547843270454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/10/workin-it-accountant-style.html' title='Workin It: Accountant Style'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-116000904946496491</id><published>2006-10-04T17:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-07T05:48:15.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Sunflower</title><content type='html'>I wanted to inform everyone that the HOA that I love under is now even more insane then I had previously thought (and believe me I think these nutbags are thoroughly psychotic). What happened today is just…well… I cannot use words to describe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Background: Me and Mr. First Year planted all types of things in our very first backyard (maybe some of you remember my veggies and our drawn out battle against our lawn?). Around the perimeter of my yard (inside the small fence the HOA presumably put up)  we planted sunflowers. The giant variety, though we crowed them too close together to prevent them from growing to their 16-20 foot potential. So, from about July until this day (we planted in rotations so we’d have them until the frost) there had been a border of 5-9 foot sunflowers around our yard. Big, bright, happy looking yellow sunflowers. The heads are about 1.5 feet big and have tons of seeds (we have given pounds away, the birds love them). We love them, the neighbors and especially their children love them, they are simply big happy looking sunny flowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today: At my doorstep were two women from the HOA’s “landscaping” committee (I have to note, only about 10 our about 800 units have backyards, though the grounds of the complex are pretty large, our yard cant be seen from anywhere in the complex or the street because it backs to dense trees about 10 feet wide and is blocked by the actual building we live in from the view of anyone in the complex except for the neighbors who hate the HOA and love our sunflowers.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These women told me that they had “tolerated my sunflowers long enough, it is time for action to be taken.” That’s right, they find it insane and ridiculous that my sunflowers stand to this day, in October (it was 80 degrees out today). Its time for them to come down and for me to put more fall appropriate landscaping out in my yard. I told them calmly that I had mums, squash, and pumpkins for the season, but my flowers were pretty and bothered no one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say they huffed off, muttering threats of a citation. But I have to wonder, what the fuck is wrong with these people. Only 1 other unit can see my sunflowers, there is no one above me, below me, whatever, and the unit that could potentially be bothered by my season inappropriate flower display is not. I am speechless, I am shocked. Had I not been a long time reader of &lt;a href="widelawns.blogspot.com"&gt;Wide Lawns &lt;/a&gt;I would not believe the current HOA nightmare I am living under.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone, please… am I insane? Is my sunflowery show figuratively smacking the face of the incumbent season?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOA outlaw… First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-116000904946496491?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/116000904946496491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=116000904946496491&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116000904946496491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/116000904946496491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/10/bad-sunflower.html' title='Bad Sunflower'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115997112728377164</id><published>2006-10-04T07:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T07:12:07.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You :)</title><content type='html'>Well, as surprised as I am, apparently my post about &lt;a href="(http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/breast-nazis.html"&gt;breasts and breast feeding &lt;/a&gt;attracted a lot of attention and most of it not negative. A very &lt;a href="www.missingghosts.blogspot.com"&gt;dear blogging friend &lt;/a&gt;nominated the post for an award from &lt;a href="http://suburbanturmoil.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://suburbanturmoil.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; as a “perfect post”. So here is my little banner thingy… Thank you very much Missing Ghost and all the people who posted comments and linked the post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.suburbanturmoil.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a374/SuburbanTurmoil/sept1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115997112728377164?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115997112728377164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115997112728377164&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115997112728377164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115997112728377164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/10/thank-you_04.html' title='Thank You :)'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115965943517745845</id><published>2006-09-30T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T10:33:31.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BJ's, Oh How I Love to Hate You</title><content type='html'>You might wonder why I would be doing so much shopping at BJ’s given that I am a “family” of only 2. Well, it’s because we eat at home most nights, love to cook (and drink), and I love to save money. So while it might seem insane for 2 people to purchase 10 pounds of boneless skinless chicken breasts to eat, in reality we use it up in about a month and pay less then half the price the grocery store charges for it. Another upside is their beer and wine prices. Wine from BJ’s you might ask? Well yes, they actually have quite a selection. For instance, we are swill beer drinkers, a 24 pack of American-lite bottles run 14.99, if cans are your thing they are 18 bucks for a 36 pack. And the wine I find at Total Wine for 15.99 a bottle is 7.99 a bottle at BJ’s. On top of that, their frozen “fun” food selection cannot be beat, we enjoy their dumplings, appetizers, etc often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, enough of me trying to defend my BJ’s habit (its only ½ a mile from where I live!!!) there are so many things that annoy me about the store, or more specifically the other customers who shop there. So, I would like other BJ’s shoppers to keep a few things in mind to make everyone’s experience a little more pleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Control you kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no problem with children in any inherent way. But what I do have a problem with is wild children in areas where they might not need to be. For instance, I cannot understand why Mom and Dad would go shopping with all 5 of their children. Why doesn’t one of you stay home with your happy bunch and allow the other a few hours of blissful peace? But regardless, if you must bring your offspring, please try to keep them near you, keep them from knocking down merchandise, kicking other customers, screaming across the store, or otherwise being loud and obnoxious. And please, for the love of god, the aisles are only so wide, if you and your brood insist on standing in a line while walking around the store at least step out of the way if someone walks up. And, if your little tyke kicks me, throws something at me, or yanks my hair or any of my clothing please apologize, we’ll both have a laugh and move on, don’t shoot me a dirty look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Keep near your cart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times I have to leave my cart to grab an item in a place where there is no room for my giant cart. But, it is in normal, reasonable, or a good idea to abandon your cart while you shop for many items aisles away, blocking a large amount of merchandise (and possibly leaving your loved one strapped into the kiddy holder!!!!) while you debate between types of pasta. Take your cart with you, even though I know it is a pain in the butt to drag with you. I am a small female as well, those things are heavy, but thus is life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Realize it’s not a competition!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please do not race towards the potatoes display in some sort of grocery Olympics in an attempt to get the very best Red Bliss Potatoes you can. There’s about 150 bags of potatoes there, I am sure we can both find what we want. And if we happen to be looking at the same item at the same time, please do not push me out of the way, tell me to give you space, or otherwise make me feel as if it is “your” territory rather then a store open to the public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Respect the item limits!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are express lanes of several varieties, 6 items (for people just dropping in for a few things) 12 items (for a little shop, but nothing major), and 18 items (maybe for party need?). So, if you have a crammed cart full of crap, you’ll have to use one of the 15 regular lanes. The reason for the express line is that someone like me with 2 boxes of beer, 1 bag of potatoes, and a package of ribs (4 items) does not have to wait in line behind someone doing their monthly stock up. If you have a few extra items, most people don’t care. But don’t push it. So, I was not pleased to get in the 6 item or less express line to find you in front of me with a cart containing no less then 50 items. I was overjoyed that, even though you placed most of your things on the conveyor belt the cashier refused to check you out and insisted that you remove your items and go to a regular register. It was even funnier to watch you cuss and curse that you had been waiting and didn’t want to wait in line again. Well, none of us (with 6 items or less) want to wait for you to check out. This is the quick in and out register, so I am glad your time was wasted, because you care so little about wasting the time of any other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from that there are minor annoyances (don’t stand in the middle of the aisle blabbing into your cell phone for example)  BJ’s is great. Lets try to just do our shopping, mind our manners, think of others, and generally not be awful humans. Maybe its just bulk shopping that brings out the worse in all of us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, FY-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115965943517745845?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115965943517745845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115965943517745845&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115965943517745845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115965943517745845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/bjs-oh-how-i-love-to-hate-you.html' title='BJ&apos;s, Oh How I Love to Hate You'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115954932668784117</id><published>2006-09-29T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T15:00:15.843-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You Notes, Dos and Donts</title><content type='html'>Anyone reading about a week back knows about my hiring fiasco that is thankfully now over, however a side effect was a slew of thank you notes. As you can imagine some people didn’t bother to send them, some people sent notes that were generic, some thoughtful, and others just plain stupid and funny.  So below, some dos and don’ts of thank you note writing for the business world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Be specific enough so that I know you didn’t just copy and paste the same thing to every interviewer. Mentioning the time and day is helpful, along with the position and my own name, spelled correctly help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Thank me for my time and don’t sound sarcastic when you do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Of course, spell check your letter and leave the exclamation points out of it (okay, one might be OK)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DON’T (because these are more fun)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Be sarcastic, if you didn’t enjoy meeting with me, thought the interview sucked, maybe you should skip the thank you note?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“ Ms. First Year, Thank you sooo much for the “time” you spent interviewing me, I am sure it could have been better spent, as was obviously your opinion.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn’t endear me to you. Do you think I will see that, have an epiphany about my general rudeness to you and displeasure at interviewing someone so haughty and snotty and then decide I must have such an arrogant ass working for me? Doubtful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Swear. Yes, I swear all the time too but hardly ever in a work setting and never in a business correspondence to someone I don’t know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Getting to your office was a bitch, but I appreciate your patience with my shitty MapQuest directions”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, you managed to swear twice during one sentence. On the other hand, I can sympathize MapQuest really does give shitty directions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Tell me the job/company/office/brand sucks. If it sucks, why did you come in to interview? Do you think telling me this will somehow make me see the light and quit my job?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“While I appreciate your time and attention during the interview process, I am afraid I could not work for **** resorts, the hotels are inferior to **** and I only like to work for the best. Thank you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouch. But thanks anyhow. Just so you know most companies suck in one way or another anyhow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Insult me, the fact that I have the position, the company policies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ms. First Year, thank you meeting with me on xx, xx regarding the accounting assistant position, however I do not find it acceptable to work for someone that is two decades my junior. Please remove me from consideration in this position.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t worry, you weren’t being considered for the position at all. You allowed your snotty attitude to our age difference show through in everything you said to me in your interview. You even asked me how old I was; clearly it seems that you would have a problem with the power dynamic. But thanks for the note!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in conclusion, if you write a note: Be polite, spell correctly, don’t insult the person, be specific, don’t curse, and generally reread what you write before you send. Thanks :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115954932668784117?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115954932668784117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115954932668784117&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115954932668784117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115954932668784117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/thank-you-notes-dos-and-donts.html' title='Thank You Notes, Dos and Donts'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115920417534264773</id><published>2006-09-25T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T13:39:23.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breast Nazis</title><content type='html'>I know this is a second post for the day, and that’s odd for me, but I came across an article in Redbook (of all places) that really set me off. So, what better place to let loose a rant then here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Redbook has a section called the “Red-Hot Topic” and at issue in this particular segment was breast feeding vs. bottle feeding, no not the age long debate but if a warning label should be placed on baby formula. This warning would say something to the effect of: “Breast-feeding is the ideal method of feeding and nurturing infants.” And basically label formula feeding an infant a “risky behavior”. (Proposed by Sen. Tom Harkin (D-IA))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I don’t have a personal stake in the issue because I don’t have any babies to feed with either my breasts or store bought formula, but I imagine that many women who want to breast feed can’t and would be pretty upset to find these little warnings on their bottles of formula. Also, this is indicative of the crazy militant breast feeders I love to hate. These women will breast feed anywhere, any time with no sense of common decency. No the breast isn’t shameful, and feeding your child is beautiful, I would never relegate someone to the bathroom or other undesirable place. But, don’t just rip the shirt off and sit there with both breasts hanging out with an infant suckling at you in a 5 star steak house. Please, use a blanket, or better yet don’t go to such fancy places with an infant so young. Just a thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, these women/men aren’t just trying to reclaim their right to feed their children unbothered, no they must ensure everyone also breast feeds, and that anyone who doesn’t do so is a bad parent taking risks with their children’s health. This is really where I draw the line, if you want people to respect your choice and respect your right to practice your choice then please respect the choices of others. Chances are the mothers not breastfeeding either (a) cant and no amount of shaming will make it physically possible for them to do so or (b) don’t want to, they have probably already thought it out, how it fits with their schedule and life style. But if they know the health benefits/flaws of both sides and simply chose not to, you don’t make them and shaming them is just silly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do we do this with any other diet choice adults make for themselves/their families. If I stop by to get McD’s for me and my family why don’t we slap a label on their that says: “Eating low fat home made meals is ideal for your health, ingesting this food is a risky behavior”. Well maybe we should have that label but you get my point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wholeheartedly agree with educating people about their choices. But once they are educated and have made them, don’t chastise them for choosing differently then you wanted them too. So, LLL (La Leche League) and various “lactation” consultants, understand some people cannot breast feed and some do not want to. Do what is best for you and your body and let others do what is best for them and theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, rant over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115920417534264773?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115920417534264773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115920417534264773&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115920417534264773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115920417534264773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/breast-nazis.html' title='Breast Nazis'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115919417026374343</id><published>2006-09-25T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T08:38:09.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beware the Plastic Bag and Other Road Hazards</title><content type='html'>Dear Scared Nighttime Drive,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that in the darkness of night with so few others prowling the road any little thing can scare you. So, I was not surprised to see you swerve like a maniac in order to avoid something in the road. Since you were in front of me, I even felt like this was a nice little warning for me. So, imagine my surprise when I realized you had swerved to avoid a plastic bag.  I snubbed my nose in the face of the danger, chose not to drive over the double yellow to avoid the hazard. That’s right, I drove right by the bag, perhaps even over the back. Thankfully, luck was on my side and I voyaged home safely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what happened last night is simply too much. Again, driving down the road at nighttime I was blissfully minding my own business in my own lane. Then there you come, the champion of ghost items, along the other side of the road at me. Apparently you were scared by the shadow of something in the road and inexplicable drove directly into my lane and slammed to a stop. You see, I was traveling in this lane and there was no other for me to turn in to, so I was barely able to slam on my breaks to avoid hitting you, a car facing me in my lane. You roll down your window breathing hard and breathlessly exclaim, “Sorry, I thought that shadow was an animal, but it was just my car.”, and then proceeded to stare at me to back up (which I didn’t) so you could continue your large arch in the road. Finally giving up you sigh and back up, driving off into the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as a public service I have listed some things that won’t hurt your car if driven over (unless of course they get stuck in your tail pipe or some other freak occurrences happens).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-        Bags&lt;br /&gt;-        Shadows&lt;br /&gt;-        Leaves&lt;br /&gt;-        Small tree pieces (twigs, branches, clusters of leaves).&lt;br /&gt;-        Clothing.&lt;br /&gt;-        Food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, these things WILL hurt your car and deserve a swerve, though never into other cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-        Pieces of other cars (bumpers, pipes, tire pieces, etc)&lt;br /&gt;-        Large Amounts of glass&lt;br /&gt;-        Metal objects&lt;br /&gt;-        Wooden objects&lt;br /&gt;-        Large Objects&lt;br /&gt;-        Gates, houses, trailers, boats, etc&lt;br /&gt;-        People, animals, other cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So please, before swerving into traffic and shrieking like a girl, evaluate the situation and reconsider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115919417026374343?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115919417026374343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115919417026374343&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115919417026374343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115919417026374343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/beware-plastic-bag-and-other-road.html' title='Beware the Plastic Bag and Other Road Hazards'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115877876549477333</id><published>2006-09-20T11:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-24T22:16:48.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stating the Obvious</title><content type='html'>Recently I have been noticing that some customer service reps tend to say really stupid and obvious things to people. I don't know why this is, perhaps I have IDIOT written on my forehead, maybe they are used to encounter people who do not know the very basic facts of life. But below are a few examples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Upon complaining that food shipped to me was delivered improperly, agent on the phone states, "Well I hate to tell you, but food is a perishable."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whaaaaaat? Food is perishable? No way! So THATS why I have a fridge and freezer in my home, because it needs to stay cold. Wow, thanks for the tip!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Upon purchasing a shirt, "Since you'll only have one you must wash it if you get a stain on it or get it dirty so you can wear it again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wash clothes when they're dirty??? Lunacy! I have never, in my life heard of that. And all this time I have just gone on wearing shirts with stains on them because I didn't know what to do. Lucky for me, I bumped into you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. When comparing boxes of kitty litter, "Just so you know, the 15 pound box has a lot less litter then the 30 pound box."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, thank you for imparting that wisdom on me. And here I was thinking, why on earth would I pay more for the 30 pound box when I can just buy this 15 pound box and get the same amount of litter. You say those "pounds" that the box are described  by denote how much litter is in each box? As if! Next you'll be telling me that those number attempt to tell me what the box weighs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, blogger-world friends, am I the only one submitted to these inane comments and helpful hints? Are the majority of people so moronic they dont know some foods need to stay cold, clothes should be washed when dirty before being worn again, and that 30 pounds of product is a greater amount then 15 pounds of it? Please tell me no. Or tell me I am not the only one. Or tell me to go back to kindergarden to learn life's missed lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115877876549477333?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115877876549477333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115877876549477333&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115877876549477333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115877876549477333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/stating-obvious.html' title='Stating the Obvious'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115867229009160120</id><published>2006-09-19T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T08:58:48.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiring People Sucks</title><content type='html'>This is another work/accounting related rant…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had the “pleasure” recently to help participate in the hiring of a new person in my department. To begin with I got to weed out the resumes passed on to us by HR. So, below First Year’s tips for sending your resume and cover letter, we all know the inane tips (spelling, grammar, etc) but I was still amazed by what made it to my desk, it seems HR doesn’t read cover letters, just checks for basic experience/education, thanks HR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If you don’t know the name of the person who you are sending the cover letter to the wrong thing to write is… “Hiya!!!”, or “Hey There….”, or “Check This Out!”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. We list specific things we’d like you to be able to do in relations to accounting, is this what you meant when you said, “I know how to do accounting and stuff.” It’s a mystery, I was tempted to call you in just to find out what this mysterious accounting “stuff” was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Don’t ask us to compromise on certain key issues. For example, while we do appreciate a multi-cultural environment here (well most people anyhow), you really do need to speak English fluently to work here. So when you say, “I write this for my friend because he doesn’t speak English, but instead German and French.” Please understand why you friend cannot work here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Don’t make it difficult for us to contact you. I prefer to email you, if you prefer a phone call (well…you know what YOU are the one applying so really, maybe you should let us pick…) don’t give inane time windows in which we may call you. “My preference is a phone call during the hours of 8 am until 10 am, and again from 6:30 pm until 10 pm, thanks. Well my preference is to not make work calls before or after work, so the 1 hour time window in which I may call you might not work for me. So you got placed into the trash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, that aside, when you actually come in an interview please be aware of how you treat other people in the office, not just your interviewer. First, HR will meet you and show you around, then I will meet you. Here’s what not to do:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I know I am young, and look even younger. Despite this I will still be your manager if hired so none of the following are good things to say to me, “Wow, you look like a baby!”, “But you’re so young, if the manager out today?”. “You are going to interview me?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Do not joke that you should be the manager and I should be the assistant. How rude is that? Yea, because I want someone working under me who thinks they should be my manager….we’d have a great working relationship I am sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Don’t act indignant that you are pushing 50 and will be working under someone not even half-way to 30. I know that has to suck, but you don’t have much experience, got your education late, not my fault. In fact its your fault, you chose to stay home with your kids until they were 18 (excessive….?) so expect to start back where you left off. Saying, “I can’t work for someone who is young enough to be my child, I’d mother you too much!” makes me really not want to hire you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. You don’t get to pick who interviews you. If you feel you didn’t get to tell me everything you wanted to, send me an email with a follow up afterwards. Do not stare at me when I thank you for coming in, stand up, and extend my hand and say, “But we’re not done. Maybe someone else can talk to me.” No, we’re done and I hated you. But thanks for coming in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yick, interviews all week this week. I have a pretty good idea of who will get the position though :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115867229009160120?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115867229009160120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115867229009160120&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115867229009160120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115867229009160120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/hiring-people-sucks.html' title='Hiring People Sucks'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115832788255130350</id><published>2006-09-15T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T06:50:17.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Fun :)</title><content type='html'>So, I have a hard time throwing out of some things that I can no longer use but that are still in perfect order. Of course, I decide to use Freecyle to gift some of these items to people that might be able to use them. Yesterday I posted a year old fully functional bagless vacuum cleaner and a new in box toaster oven. I understand that new and perfectly working things are top on the list of Freecyclers, but I could do without the sob stories. Please to enjoy below actual emails from people who will not be getting my stuff:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RE: Vacuum Cleaner:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  The simple plea: “PLEASE!! MAY I have this, PLEASE?????”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, caps lock does make me want to give things to other people….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. “Hello.  My fiance and I have put a vacuum cleaner on our wedding registry, but we're not sure that we'll get it.  So, we'd love to have the one you're offering.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why not wait to see if someone gives you the vacuum before taking a free one? Someone else probably has NO chance of it being given to them as a gift. How bratty are you people????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. “I would love to have this vaccuum. I need it for our church buildingthat we are getting tomorrow. So that would be awesome!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yea… you’re getting it for the “church” building you’re getting tomorrow? It would be “awesome”? No, I don’t think so…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. “Let me explain, we have a 19 year old neighbor girl who really, really needs this vacuum.  She is a really sweet girl who is working very hard to better herself and her life ~ she's had a very rough life  (through no fault of her own) and yet, she's still very positive!! She's a good girl who deserves a break.  She is currently living with her elderly grandfather, who is recovering from quintuple bypass surgery, and taking care of him and his house by herself.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, just say you want the vacuum, its cool we all need a vacuum to clean our homes. This is very far fetched sounding!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. “I will pick the vacuum up tonight after 10 pm when I get off of work, do not give it to someone else, as I have already told you I am coming. Call my cell ###-###-#### to give me your address”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm…no. The person who I pick to give the damn thing to will come at MY convenience, which isn’t late in the evening. You telling me you are coming isn’t the same as me saying, “I want you to have the vacuum please come and get it between such and such a time at this address”.&lt;br /&gt;6. “Must be nice to get a new vacuum [we bought a new one recently, the reason this one is leaving my home] too bad not everyone has your money and has to get your leftover scraps! [ the thing is a year old, we just got the bigger model, it works wonderfully!] Maybe you need to learn something about helping others, not just keeping the nice stuff for yourself and giving away your leftovers. I would prefer the new vacuum but of course I can’t afford it. You seem to be able to afford a new one and can give away new small appliances, think about your giving and I believe you’ll see the right thing for you to do.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The right thing to do is to give you the NEW vacuum I purchased and keep the old one for myself? Listen lady, I could sell the old vacuum on Craig’s List for about $50-$75 (going price I looked), but I decided to give it away for free to pass on some Karma. I don’t even know what to say about this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, for the Toaster Oven:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. “I need it to cook food, I don’t have a stove or oven and my kids are sick of cold food.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why don’t you have a stove/oven? Seriously…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. “I need a good toaster oven, but alas, keep using my spending money on my 10 month old.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really? All of it? I just found this funny, she went on to say she hasn’t been able to buy anything for the kitchen because, “My baby loves new clothes and I can’t help myself, lol”.  Well I suggest you help yourself, your 10 month old is a BABY, she doesn’t know the difference between walmart and saks 5th avenue. Buy yourself things you need not stuff your daughter “wants”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. “ I got a toaster over from here a month ago, but your seems nicer. I’d love to chuck the older one and replace it with your new one.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm… this is freecyle, you already got 1! And now that there is a better one you’re going to throw the one someone gave you for free (was also new in box!) away and not list it on the site? What don’t you get about freecyle? Or are you only able to TAKE and not GIVE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously though, posting things on Freecycle made me hate humanity just a little bit. There were many people who wrote something normal like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hi there, We could really use the “item”, if it is not taken we can pick it up at your convenience. Thank you for your generosity either way” (That person is the recipient of the vacuum and a similar one won the toaster oven)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What NOT to do to get free crap:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respond to every ad! You want the vacuum, toaster over, women’s clothes, men’s shoes, cat bed, AND plants? And you have a different story as to why you desperately need each one? Right…&lt;br /&gt;Don’t tell me when you’re coming to get it in your first email to me. I will tell you when I am available to have it for pick up.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t call me self-ish for not giving away my new items.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t tell me to call you between whatever times on your cell phone, times most people are asleep is especially not going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t tell me you need it but need me to bring it to you. No, I wont do that. You come here to get it, you live 30 miles away, why would I spend my own gas to drive a vacuum down to you? Use your local freecycle please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, rant over :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side Note: Thanks to everyone who weighed in on my last post. I knew the right thing to do all along, I was just wavering a little bit. I believe I will have a talk with my friend and let her know that when I am questioned I will have to tell the truth to the best of ability, and that I wish she had not made the undesirable facts known to me but she has. If she wants me to be called for an interview I will not be able to lie or omit information that I have certain knowledge of. Then if I have the interview I will have to tell the truth. What a crappy situation though, I wish she had kept me in the dark about many of the things she is doing but she hasn’t. She’s known I am a law student, and that am unlikely to take lying to the Federal government lightly, but I guess that’s the way it goes. So thank you :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115832788255130350?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115832788255130350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115832788255130350&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115832788255130350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115832788255130350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/friday-fun.html' title='Friday Fun :)'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115820140828542826</id><published>2006-09-13T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T14:33:52.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ethical Dilemma</title><content type='html'>Yes, I have come across one already. I have a friend in a crappy situation. At the beginning of the crappy situation I told her I would agree to be interviewed by a certain government agency. Since that time she has engaged in some activity that is pretty inappropriate given the situation and that I know the government agents will question me about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a problem with lying to them, but if I am questioned and tell the truth it will ruin my friend’s case (as an FYI this has nothing to do with anything actually illegal in case this seems like that sort of thing). So my choices are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a)     Refuse to the interview, risk being legally forced to by my friend’s attorney, thus implicating her in behavior/actions that kill her point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b)     Go on the interview; tell the truth, screw over friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other problem is I have some moral disgust over Friend’s behavior, I do not support it all and wish she would stop acting the way she is. She seems to think that I will just say whatever is best for her. Her comments include the fact that they are sure to believe a law student, but there must be some sort of conduct I should be holding myself to at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh, I have a feeling this isn’t going to work out without me telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth to the detriment of my friend. Anyone have an opinion on this one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115820140828542826?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115820140828542826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115820140828542826&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115820140828542826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115820140828542826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/ethical-dilemma.html' title='Ethical Dilemma'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115799137120032149</id><published>2006-09-11T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T09:16:11.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering....</title><content type='html'>In light of it being September 11 I hope we all remember the tragedy that happened 5 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I was a freshman in a DC university and the day was terrifying. When I see a plane fly over 395 near the Pentagon my heart still speeds up and I panic a little bit. Seeing a crowd of people all rushing in one direction and walking against them still makes me wonder if there is something I am missing, or if maybe I should run the other way. I still have a fear that my death is going to come at the hands of some sort of incident, terrorism related or otherwise. However, the iminent fear of something bad happening is over, but I will also not be leaving the house today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I have a problem, but I am not sure its worth doing something about. So, I will live with the planes, the sirens, and the crowds of people, and I doubt anyone will find me leaving the house on this day. But, each year the fear gets smaller and smaller, though I doubt I will step foot in the Pentagon ever ever ever again since that day 5 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about the children who were born after their fathers died, the wives and husbands who never got to say good bye, and anyone who lost a friend or loved one so suddenly makes me so sad. I hope all those who lost someone have come to a place of peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, for the depressing entry, but I wanted to remember everyone who died and suffered that day. And anyone out there that still has the residual fear is definetly not alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115799137120032149?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115799137120032149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115799137120032149&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115799137120032149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115799137120032149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/remembering.html' title='Remembering....'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115773482884633338</id><published>2006-09-08T09:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T13:22:34.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, I KNOW That costs more...</title><content type='html'>In this day and age of fat-assesness why do some "establishments" insist on forcing people to spend *more* money on *less* food????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was feeling a little cranky yesterday, and while I never eat fast food (maybe 6 times a year) I decided that I really wanted some fatty McD's. So, I went and ordered my "usual" a chesseburger (the single, small one). I was told that it was 15 cents more expensive then the "double chesseburger". I tell her I would really prefer the smaller burger (still an ass load of calories and fat by the way, I am not good nutrition superstar here). She seems utterly shocked that anyone would pay more money for half the food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I  doubt many people spend more money on less food. Most people would probably get the double cheese burger. But then the problem is, you're eating twice the cheeseburger. I know myself, if I have a double cheeseburger I will EAT it, all of it, every last greasy bite. Thats why I am practicing self-moderation and ordering the smaller one. It will satisfy my craving for the greasy badness but wont hurt my waisteline, cholesteral level, and general health as much as twice the food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another case... at a local place. Theres a special on the "large" plate where it basically costs less then the "small" plate. Well I always order the small plate. Its got a pile of pasta on it, a pile of whatever entree it was, and a pile of a veggie. I can't even finish it, most people can't. I always thought the large plate was meant for sharing, family dinners, or obese people. So, when I ordered my usual small plate of chicken parm with fettucine and I was told the large plate was $1 less money. Thats OK I say. Yes I KNOW I could take it home and enjoy my fat feast for another 2 meals, but you know what, I don't think I should that entire pile of food even in a 2 day time period. Your dishes are delicious, but I am trying to keep my figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can imagine that many people thought "well of course I'll get the big plate, it costs less". Yes it does cost less money. But think of the extra 1 hour on the treadmill thats going to require! Or think of the cost of new clothes a few sizes larger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe...with the obesity crisis being what it food peddlers can stop enticing people with financial savings to each larger quantities of food. Or maybe even start serving actual portion sizes. But of course someone faced with an *actual* portion of pasta, tiny piece of chicken, and full cup and a half of veggies will most likely feel ripped off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh... I cannot be the only person who sees how messed up this is. Now...to the treadmill for me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115773482884633338?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115773482884633338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115773482884633338&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115773482884633338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115773482884633338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/yes-i-know-that-costs-more.html' title='Yes, I KNOW That costs more...'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115747424490988747</id><published>2006-09-05T09:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T22:22:59.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>While the Dell was Away....</title><content type='html'>Not having my computer for over a week, while “working” from home was interesting to say the least. My boss regaled me with stories of the “relaxation” I would do, being unable to enter tiny numbers into huge spreadsheets, calculating various ratios, and overall trying to catch properties screwing us. Well, relax I did, with some fine day-time TV, which I may have had on in the background while working before, but now was the focus of all my attention… So, please to enjoy below some things I have learned, via trash daytime TV….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starting Over:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Apparently, if you were molested as a youngster you can reclaim your lost dignity by sitting in a filthy pond covered in scum.&lt;br /&gt;- If you are a prostitute/escort/etc its going to take a lot of work and a lawyer (perhaps my calling as an attorney? Hmm…. :) to get all the porn/escort sites to take your photos off of their sites.&lt;br /&gt;- Sticky notes are not just for reminding yourself of crap you need to do/important numbers/etc. You can also make a huge necklace out of them with all your worldly troubles, wear it around you neck, and walk around that way….it really helps your self esteem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lesson: Silly challenges using various arts/crafts/dirt/office supplies will solve all your problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Phil:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- If you’re 40, have a wife and 2 kids, living with your mom who hates your wife is bound to make you wife unhappy. The solution, courtesy of the wisdom of the fine “doctor”, move out of Mom’s house.&lt;br /&gt;- It seems, if you have a “special” child screaming at her/berating her/telling her she is stupid is the “wrong” thing to do. Whew…and I thought insulting the retarded was a good way to motivate them….&lt;br /&gt;- For some reason, some men seem to think that letting their mom’s curse and scream at their wives is not their problem, but don’t worry, the doctor set them straight, they should tell their mom’s to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lesson: There are tons of Mamma’s boys out there, this is bad. Also, married people with kids should live in their own homes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyra Banks Show:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Women should not tie their looks to their self worth, however if you do then you can get cosmetic surgery to fix the flaw!&lt;br /&gt;- Somehow, what the people at Girls Gone Wild do, when they get girls to flash breasts and act drunk on film do, is completely different then what Tyra does when she has girls pose naked on her show, or on her other show (Next Top Model).&lt;br /&gt;- The right way to seem mature and as if you are not holding a grudge against a certain person, is to always mention them in a negative way, preferably on TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lesson: Anything Tyra does is right, if you something she would agree with then you’re totally in the right, if you do something she wouldn’t you should change your behavior to be more in line with how she would act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next (MTV, “dating” show)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The way to catch a good man requires you to hand him your panties when you first meet him.&lt;br /&gt;- Its definitely NOT ok to tell a man you’re on a date with that you don’t usually sleep with men after only the first meeting, what a prude!&lt;br /&gt;- While bored on the bus making out with the other potential dates, showing them various body parts, or even covering each other in whipped cream and licking it off is the best way to spend the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lesson: Be a whore, people will like you better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh there are so many more gems of wisdom, but now that Mr. Dell is feeling less cranky, I should get to those numbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who said TV isn’t educational?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115747424490988747?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115747424490988747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115747424490988747&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115747424490988747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115747424490988747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/while-dell-was-away_05.html' title='While the Dell was Away....'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115713517746279380</id><published>2006-09-01T11:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T08:50:11.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MIA...</title><content type='html'>Because my DELL broke.... guess I should have paid some attention to the others who have had problems with them! Will be back with a normal post soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to thank those who left comments on the last two posts, I am starting to feel better about whats been going on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:) FY-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115713517746279380?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115713517746279380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115713517746279380&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115713517746279380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115713517746279380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/09/mia.html' title='MIA...'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115642448948969169</id><published>2006-08-24T05:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T21:18:57.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thats not OK to say....</title><content type='html'>I think that some people at my work place could use some sensitivity training, particular the older folks, who (hopefully) come from a different place or time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in the office yesterday afternoon overseeing the delivery of a giant crap load of documents that I scurried home with to use for my own evil purposes. Below is the conversation between me and Older Office Lady (OOL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOL: What a polite young man (refering to the delivery person).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, he seems nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOL: And what nice speech for a black person!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: ummm..... excuse me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOL: Well, you know how &lt;em&gt;they&lt;/em&gt; usually talk, this one talks like a proper white person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Umm.... :::walking away:::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fellow office slaves.... just because you're white and I am white doesn't mean we're "in this together", don't poke me and make rude racial/religous/ect comments. Not only can that get you in trouble, its also extremely rude, outdated, and just plain shitty. Below, please enjoy other gems:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOL: WOW.... That one speaks english, &lt;em&gt;they&lt;/em&gt; never bother to do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mailroom ass: (refering to the spanish cleaning lady asking to use our restroom) Hahahaha maybe if she was white!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Fileroom Girl: (refering to a new hire who is :::gasp::: black) Well at least he's not like his "brothers" and probably won't rob us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse me people???? We are at WORK, please be a racist asshole on your own time. Theres nothing wrong with black, hispanic, white, albanian, gay, old, young, etc people. They are shitty people of all varieties, we are not in a "secret club of white", because let me let you in on a secret, I don't believe the Klan will let me joing since I am Jewish. Though seriously, we're not working at the white nationalist foundation, maybe you need to get your resume to them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for hearing the rant :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side not to a poster (who I deleted, congradulations it's the first) named "second year" who apparently just made a blogger acount to be an asshole to me. Fuck you, what kind of asshole would respond to my previous post by telling me I deserved for my boyfriend to almost fucking die? Sorry, no matter what I did/didn't do (its a blog btw) to insinuate that I brought this on this or that it was payback for my actions is truly disgusting. Go fuck yourself. You are a fucking coward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ETA: No second year, a coward is not just someone who says nothing, it also includes someone like you who makes up an account simply to harass someone, without any possibility of repercussion. Send me an email and we can discuss, keep off of my blog. (&lt;a href="mailto:firstyearorlast@gmail.com"&gt;firstyearorlast@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the rest of you, it just made me furious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115642448948969169?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115642448948969169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115642448948969169&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115642448948969169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115642448948969169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/08/thats-not-ok-to-say.html' title='Thats not OK to say....'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115617098574705063</id><published>2006-08-21T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T19:18:41.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Sad</title><content type='html'>So, I have some not so great "big" news, I am not going back to school this fall, I am defferring my enrollment until the spring semester. Mr. First Year was extremely ill about a month ago, has not yet returned to work, so I cannot afford to be a student and still pay rent and eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really pretty depressed and down about the decision. I know its not the end of the world, but at the moment it really feels as if it might be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I will try to write about something legally minded during my hiatus from school, but in reality this blog will probably include more accounting/life stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, no nasty comments this is really hard on me to begin with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115617098574705063?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115617098574705063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115617098574705063&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115617098574705063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115617098574705063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/08/something-sad.html' title='Something Sad'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115583295126228371</id><published>2006-08-17T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-17T09:42:31.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its my Blogging Birthday!!!</title><content type='html'>Someone pointed out to me via email that I have almost been blogging for an entire year! August 23, 2005 was my first post, and here it is....August 2006. WOW, I really didn't know if I could keep this up for a year, but apparently I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if enough people read this to do this, but I have seen it done so I decided to give it a try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone have a favorite few posts? I would love to know what you all (ya'll) enjoy reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything you wish I would post about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well.... Aside from that, please to enjoy my favorite incompetence encounter yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Setting: Macy's in Tysons Corner VA check out register.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Getting about $200 worth of things rung up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macy's Clerk (MC, because Macy's Employee, I just realized in ME, too confusing!): Apparently short on credit card application.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MC: Would you like to apply for a Macy's card and save 10%?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: No thanks, I already have a Macy's card, I would prefer to pay with my Visa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MC: But if you sign up for a Macy's card you'll save $23 today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Thats OK, I already have a card :::beggining to swipe my Visa Debit Card::::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MC: Why wouldn't you want to save money? Just sign up for a Macy's card and you can save some money!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I told you, I already have a card :::pulls out Macy's card from wallet and show clerk:::: so I *cannot* sign up for a new one, please let me ring through my card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MC: Well, you can certainly pay however you like, but as I told you if you sign up for a Macy's card you will save $23, but apparently you don't like to save money,  :::pulls out card application:::, now just fill this out and you'll be on your way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: ARRRGHHH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear store clerks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand how you feel. I worked in Sears in High School, we had to ask people that question. But if someone doesn't want one they don't want one. On top of which, you can only have one. If someone not only tells you they already have one but also shows it to you, please just press the magic button on your register to authorize my "real" credit card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year (who picked all her crap and walked across the store to another register)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115583295126228371?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115583295126228371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115583295126228371&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115583295126228371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115583295126228371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/08/its-my-blogging-birthday.html' title='Its my Blogging Birthday!!!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115570116650704831</id><published>2006-08-15T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T21:06:06.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HaHa Blogger....I win :) Guess where I was! :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4591/1473/1600/funoats.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4591/1473/320/funoats.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4591/1473/1600/city.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4591/1473/320/city.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4591/1473/1600/Baltimore%20005.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4591/1473/320/Baltimore%20005.4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4591/1473/1600/aqurium.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4591/1473/320/aqurium.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115570116650704831?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115570116650704831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115570116650704831&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115570116650704831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115570116650704831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/08/haha-bloggeri-win-guess-where-i-was.html' title='HaHa Blogger....I win :) Guess where I was! :)'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115566924671651454</id><published>2006-08-15T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T12:14:06.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Cannot Work The Computer.....</title><content type='html'>Well, I *thought*  I made a fairly long post yesterday, complete with pictures,  but it seems the blogger monster has eaten it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as a second attempt, here a few photos of my "desitination" this past weekend. Guess where I was :) (or don't, I can't tell you what to do!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK....thats it I hate blogger. I have uploaded my images like 8 times, with then not showing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, no photos :( And now I have to run back  to "work"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you all enjoy your day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115566924671651454?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115566924671651454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115566924671651454&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115566924671651454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115566924671651454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-cannot-work-computer.html' title='I Cannot Work The Computer.....'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115514251513525590</id><published>2006-08-09T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T09:55:15.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>General Rudeness</title><content type='html'>I have been noticing lately that people seem to have gotten significantly ruder to me/around me.  Now, of course I know rude people exist and always have and will, but I would never have thought grown men and women (professionals at that) would act like an untrained child when let loose in public in the ways I have seen. Below, a few choice examples :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sunday at the Grocery Store I was purchasing some live lobsters for a lobster bake I was having in my backyard to celebrate the purchase of a huge new grill. I was first in line at the butcher/fish monger and asked for 6 live lobsters. As I was handed the live creatures the women behind me says, "ewww.... those are still alive, you're going to have to kill them to eat them, don't you know they scream when you kill them?" I was a bit shocked at her obvious lack of social skills, and as she was picking out her steak for supper I said, "Yea, because I am sure the cow you're about to eat definetly didn't scream when it was slaughtered."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I was rude as well, but I am not so great at keeping my mouth shut, and damnit I am from new england and I love me my seafood! She then proceeded to follow me to the veggie/fruit section and as I was picking out lemon and corn berate me for insuating that the cow she was going to eat suffered or scream, "I am not a killer like you, I could neeeever kill an animal." and other such obnoxious comments. I of course, told her that the cow was most certainly killed for her sake, and that at least I didn't need someone else to kill my food for me to feel OK about eating it, and at least I knew the lobster would die in a human way, unlike the cow she was planning on eating. She of course continued to follow me to the checkout line and tell the people around me how horrible and cruel I was, "she's going to kill that lobster when she gets home, it's alive right now and she doesn't care!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen lady, this behavior would be rude but understandable from a vegetarian, but you ma'am are eating bloody steak for dinner. Get off your high horse, please!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Last week I found myself running into DC to pick up some documents and the such from a property. I parked across the street and was waiting for the walk light to cross "L" street. As the light signaled for me to walk a business man stepped up behind me, used his entire arm to push me back and propell himself forward. I almost fell off of my 4 inch stileto heels and unto the floor. A kind man behind me grabbed my other arm so I stayed upright (I thanked you then, but thank you again!). The man who pushed me didn't even blink and kept walking. I wanted to catch up with him and elbow him in the kidneys before stepping unto the other sidewalk, but realized there was no way to do this in a ladylike and graceful way. So...to you sir, what the fuck is your problem? You cannot just push a stranger to get ahead a few steps. I almost fell down! I am a young women wearing high heels, a skirt suit, and rushing just like you....who the fuck does that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I am a smoker (cigerettes), I know its bad (spare me the lecture), and I do my best to not smoke around those who don't (if I am sitting in none smoking I don't smoke, if I am at an outdoor event and near a bunch of none smokers I dont smoke, etc). However, when I am seated in a smoking area, I will in fact smoke if I feel like it. A few weeks back me and a few girlfriends were having a girls night at a favorite restuarant. The smoking section is of course near the bar, with tables and booths around it. We were all smokers and were having a cigerette with our drinks before we ordered dinner. There quite a wait at the place, and I know some people put down "first available" because its often faster that way, and more likely then not more people want non-smoking then smooking. However, when this family of 6 (2 adults 4 children) sat down in the booth next to us, glared and announced to the hostest, "they are going to have to stop smoking, we have children!" I was pretty surprise. We all moved our cigerettes to minimize the smoke carry over to their table, but didn't put them out. A few seconds later Momma Bear appeared at our table, "Since the hostest won't make you stop smoking I am going to have to. Can't you see we have children with us? What kind of person wants to poison their lungs. You're going to have to put those out, we cannot enjoy a meal when we can smell your nasty smoke.".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my friends just burst out laughin, and stated plainly, "this is the smoking section, you should move to non-smoking if you don't want to be around smoke." no apology needed, we're sitting where we should. Nope, Mama Bear disagreed, "theres a huge wait, we HAD to sit here to eat faster, don't yoy see our kids???? They cannot wait an hour for dinner, they're hungry. Now put those out and we can all enjoy our night."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, we continued to smoke whenever the mood struck, as we were there for a long time, enjoying a looong meal and lots and lots of drinks. Mom, Dad and brats (no, not all kids are brats, kids who kick the booth, run around, throw things, and scream are brats) continued to demand we stop smoking, friend continued to tell them to move, and the waitstaff was miserable. Everytime our (very nice) server was at their table, "tell them to stop smoking, that is so rude, doesn't this restuarant care about it's customers?" to which the reply was the same, "I am sorry Ma'am this is the smoking section, I cannot tell them to stop. Would you like to be moved to non-smoking when a table opens?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to ask, who was the rude one here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I fear this post has gotten long, so many people this will be volume 1. Anyone else have a rude story to tell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:) First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115514251513525590?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115514251513525590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115514251513525590&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115514251513525590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115514251513525590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/08/general-rudeness.html' title='General Rudeness'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115504701875467088</id><published>2006-08-08T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T07:23:38.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lonely Life of an Auditor</title><content type='html'>So, this is day 2 of my long overdue cycle at auditing our properties. Basically I drive to the property, pick up a giant staff of crap mainly relating to numbers (oh the numbers, how I longed to break free of you once entering law school, but it was not to be) and take them home to fuck with them and see if they are the same numbers I have back at the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go to the office to do this task, but CFO was nice enough to tell me I could stay home and do it. Well.... now I am lonely and bored at home, feel shut out from the outside world and feel a bit like a pariah at the properties, as they announce my arrival with "The auditor is here!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would think this was ideal, and I have worked entirely from home before, so I am used to it. But something about the summer, the close availablity of the pool, my vegetable garden full of ripe fruit and erratic weeds makes me fuck around all day only to realize the 9 hours of work I had to do has seeminly been forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I end up on the couch with my computer, the pile of numbers, my best friend (Quick Books Enterprise Edition) and a beer (well maybe like 7 beers) watching wife swap and hells kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can imagine, the auditing is coming along very well (well thats what I tell CFO).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously need to get out of the house, too bad I have both todays and half of yesterday's work to do before I am allowed out to be free with the rest of society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year (the shut in)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115504701875467088?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115504701875467088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115504701875467088&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115504701875467088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115504701875467088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/08/lonely-life-of-auditor.html' title='The Lonely Life of an Auditor'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115496485103872568</id><published>2006-08-07T08:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T08:34:11.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a Starbucks Whore</title><content type='html'>Well... what can I say? I wanted to hate Starbucks, at first I resisted. I mean, 5 bucks for some coffee? Naaah I'm not a yuppie, I would never do that! Well... 2 years later I have quite the Starbucks habit. Now that I work somewhere with a Starbucks IN (yes in!) the building I cannot resist, and every day I feed the Starbucks machine. I have to say, I do love the people who work at my Starbucks, they're quick, friendly, helpful, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when this conversation took place Friday I felt a little....shall we say whorish?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me (idlying chatting with bored Manager): I am going to miss these Moca's next week, I wont be in the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starbucks Manager (SM): Really? Whats going on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh....just doing some internal audits at some properties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM: That stinks, well there'll be another starbucks, its not like you're loyal or anything, you'll just move on to another one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Um.... I guess I probably will get my coffee at another one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SM:  Of course you will, you NEED the Mocha, and you don't care one bit about where you get it from!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I guess that makes me a Starbucks whore, I'll get it where I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and SM: laugh our asses off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am a whore for my Mocha, what can I say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115496485103872568?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115496485103872568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115496485103872568&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115496485103872568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115496485103872568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-am-starbucks-whore.html' title='I am a Starbucks Whore'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115453184335782962</id><published>2006-08-02T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T08:17:23.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner with the Frosty Bitch</title><content type='html'>I can think of many enjoyable ways to spend an evening, none of these methods include the General Counsel (aka Frosty Bitch, please see part 1 of the credit card saga) and eating a meal with her or spending any significant amount of time trapped with her. But alas, when the general counsel invites you and your significant other out to dinner with herself and her husband you tend to feel obliged to go. So go we did, to a great steak house in Tyson’s Corner that I have frequently passed by but have never visited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To begin, you should know that I really hate this woman. She was a horrible bitch to work for and now she is just a horrible bitch to work around. So below please find some bulleted highlights of the evening (because I know attention spans are getting shorter :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- FB, your husband is a professional (an architect I believe?) and I am sure (no really sure, I have seen your American Express bill!) that you two regularly dine at finer establishments, the steakhouse was no exception. A side salad was $12, which should give you a hint that jeans, a ratty sports cab and sneakers are not OK. Wasn’t he a bit embarrassed when asked if he would like to borrow a jacket? Well we were thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Honey Mustard????? Really? Did you see the choice of dressing, some really great things, very creative, specially crafted to go with the salad, but no….you ask if there was any “Honey Mustard”. Our tired server practically laughed when she told you, no there was none. Most people would have let it go, but not you take this as a personal affront. (“What, that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard…. I can’t believe this….. what kind of place is this??”) FB….. It’s the type of place where kids and adults who have hissy fits over a dressing are not welcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I am not a parent, but if I were I imagine that during a night out I might want to call my home to make sure that the children are all safe and the such. Don’t you think the best place for said conversation is away from the dinner table? Aside from the rudeness of making a cell phone call in a quiet restaurant was the fact that you were screaming and discussing your little one’s stomach troubles. Eww…..look around you, we’re *eating*….go talk near the entrance, at the bar, in the restroom, or anywhere else. Also, continuing to shovel food into your face while chatting was a great classy touch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The best was definitely saved for last. When it was time to pay the bill your deviant/husband reached for the bill. Instead allowing him to for once wear the pants, you start reminding him of ways the server slighted you and should get less tip. There was the honey mustard (yea… she was definitely the one that decided not to stock it, or maybe she knew you wanted it so badly she decided to not order this week). Then there was the time that we ate the bread but the basket remained, empty and unneeded for several minutes (the audacity of her). But of course the best was the fact that she didn’t appear to have many tables and “wasn’t even that busy or working very hard” (yea….what a freaking slacker, only 3 tables in her section and she appeared calm and under control, I really love to see people work for it too….). Just get this through your head, you’re a cheap awful bitch and have NO appreciation for anyone working hard at all. You didn’t appreciate me when I worked for you, you torment your new assistant, and for god sakes, you had a great meal and want to nitpick whether some sever was working hard enough or not.&lt;br /&gt;So, thanks for dinner. We do appreciate you picking the tab up. You’d have a fit if you knew before we walked out the door Boyfriend gave the waitress a $50, because god knows what you left, she had to put up with your idiocy, and we had a great meal. Now…choke on it J&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115453184335782962?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115453184335782962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115453184335782962&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115453184335782962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115453184335782962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/08/dinner-with-frosty-bitch.html' title='Dinner with the Frosty Bitch'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115436386504059123</id><published>2006-07-31T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T09:37:45.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Company Credit Card Part Two: Flamboyant Owner</title><content type='html'>Flamboyant Owner (“FO”)…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe you are the most considerate user of the company card, though you also have your share of idiotic things you purchase. This isn’t as inane as Frosty Bitch (how could it be???), given that you’re the owner and that anything you spend is taken out of your profits. However I have questions about *some* of the things you classify as “company expenses” rather then a personal expense. I do understand the motivation to keep as much profit as possible and “write-off” other things… but some of these things are going to be tough to justify.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Your car payment. That’s right, almost $1,000 to Porsche Financing. I’ve seen your Porsche, it doesn’t appear to be a company vehicle in anyway. You do drive it to and from work, but I am not sure that this is enough to justify the company paying for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. CVS prescriptions. Now… I don’t know what type of meds these are, perhaps if you don’t take them you wont be able to come to work, but (and correct me if I am wrong) should these really be treated like a business expense? I mean I cannot come to work without some Advil for my hangover, can I claim that a business related expense and be reimbursed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Life Insurance for a Small Child- Now… I know you don’t have a child living with you, and as gay as you are, I am not sure you have any child at all. You are too young to be a grand parent and buying life insurance for someone else’s child is pretty creepy. Aside from all that, you are a free man and can buy life insurance for whatever small child you wish to purchase it for, however I am unable to come up with ANY plausible reason for the company to pay for it, or how it could ever, in any way, be a business related expense. Is it easier for you to get your work done knowing some random child is insuranced?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Amazing- This is not an “office supply” store. I am from New England, I love that store, I shopped there all the time before I moved down here. I had no idea that had an internet catalog and I am happy to see my favorite products from the store will still be available to me. However, and I say this as politely as possible, it is a pornography store. There are a few pens and pencils (mainly shaped like penises, which I know you love very much), but I cannot imagine that in the absence of  nearby Staples/Office Max, rather then go to one of those retailer websites to order office supplies you decided to go with a few hundred dollars worth of penis pens. Though I do thank you for the laugh I had, seeing “Amazing.net……” and in *your* handwriting “office supplies”. I would loooove to see these supplies. Oh…and probably stop buying porn on the company card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go on, but I won’t I believe you understand my point. Buy whatever you want, I hardly even pay attention to the stuff charged to you, it gets lost in the huge bill. But what WILL make me pay attention to your deviant spending habits is when you try to pass off (extremely) personal expenses as business expenses. Don’t do that, it just forces me to dig into the charge, something neither of us want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115436386504059123?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115436386504059123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115436386504059123&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115436386504059123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115436386504059123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/07/company-credit-card-part-two.html' title='The Company Credit Card Part Two: Flamboyant Owner'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115393230068965193</id><published>2006-07-26T09:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-26T09:45:00.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Remember Acting Like This</title><content type='html'>So... I have been A/P Manager for a very short time period and I can honestly say I remember "where I came from" (mainly the Legal department where I belong!!!!). But I cannot imagine now, then, or in the future acting in the way that some of my co-workers and underlings act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example.  Girly Girl ("GG"). I too love to wear makeup and heels, I don't hide my feminine side at work.....but I do not shove it in the face of everyone who comes near me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GG can be found painting her nails at her desk, or giggling on the phone. Her cubicle is covered with pitcures of various "hot" guys from boy bands and American Idol, and she spends  her day discussing her plans to get them to marry her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She only writes on cutsy pink kitten post-its and only with a pink furry pen. And while originally she was sweet and simply a girly girl her voice now grates on my soul ("and like Justin will tooootally fall in love with me after he tastes the brownies I shipped him").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As another Example: Inappropriately Dressed Girl  (IDG)- Since when does business professional mean flip-flops. Those types of shoes do not belong in an office. Please don't wear them. They make the most annoying noise when you flop your way down the hallway loudly snapping your gum. I can hear you coming a mile away, which just makes it harder for to pretend you didnt take a 3 hour lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course the list of things that shock me as a manager are common, maybe missed by me. But I never remember looking at my boss and saying anything that started with, "well shit...." or saying "so what?" when told something was late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe I just never noticed this sort of crappy behavior or maybe some people just dont how to act at work. Either way, I was surprised, then annoyed, and now its my source of amusement!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY=&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115393230068965193?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115393230068965193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115393230068965193&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115393230068965193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115393230068965193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-dont-remember-acting-like-this.html' title='I Don&apos;t Remember Acting Like This'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115349105985548189</id><published>2006-07-21T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-21T07:10:59.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Company Credit Card Part One: Frosty Bitch</title><content type='html'>So there is very little (and I mean VERY) fun to be had as the Accounts Payable Manager. One of the only “joys” (and I use the term loosely) of this job is paying the American Express bill. Now you might ask, “What the fuck is so fun about paying a $146,000 bill?” Well to begin with its not my money and to end with this particular AmEx bill isn’t for the cards that some employees get (to purchase stuff for the properties or take the employees to lunch or treat everyone to ice cream because they got a bit cranky), these are the “Centurion” no limit business cards the owners and executives get. It is fucking hilarious some of the things they charge on the cards, and very telling about some of the ways they tip (oh thank you Am Ex for breaking out the totals!!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, as the owner you can charge whatever the hell you want and I just take it out of your take-home. There is some sort of ledger account for it blah blah blah, insert boring accounting term here. So…… here are some of the fun tidbits I have learned, enjoy (or not, its not my fault if no one else finds accounting humor funny!!!! :) So enjoy Installment #1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frosty Bitch (AKA General Counsel)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, not only is this woman a total bitch to work for and around but she is also a shitty tipper. I just want to send her a little anonymous note that says, “hey bitch, you make xxx,xxx a year, plus xxx,xxx in bonuses, stop being such a bad tipper and you’ll be able to stop complaining about getting poor or rude service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-         Case 1: When you went to Carlyle Grand and spent over 400 on food and wine (that place is awesome by the way…yum) $25 is NOT even close to a good tip. You should be ashamed.&lt;br /&gt;-         Case 2: They break out liquor and food because it’s coded differently. So when you had a business “dinner” at Maggiannos I know you spent $50 on food and $275 on alcohol. I also saw the receipt (because there was a dispute about who to bill it to!) when you crossed out the liquor portion and did the math to figure out exactly 15% of the food portion and then left $2 less then that. Yup, 5 bucks on over 325 bucks of crap you drank.&lt;br /&gt;-         Case 3: Hamburger Hamlet (first, who the fuck are you taking there? A partner…. or your bratty kids? Hmmm…..)  But, it is a sit down restaurant and not McDs, so the zero dollar tip you left on $40 was definitely not cool. And before you say it was take out, it clearly says “dining room”.&lt;br /&gt;-         Case 4: The Bar….yea they don’t serve food there at all, just alcohol. Which is probably why there were 9 charges in a row from there. All for about 34 bucks a piece and $1 tip on each. So you drank 306 bucks of liquor and left 9 bucks. $1 a round is fine if you’re in the ye-haw honkey tonk and drinking $1 drafts and the girl brings you 2 a round. Otherwise, 1-2 bucks a drink and since you were at such an expensive place that your party of 2 (you and your doucebag husband I assume?) were drink $16 drinks you should have left 6 bucks a round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now we know you are totally cheap. But let’s look at some of the other things you bought with the COMPANY card this month:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-         Balloons&lt;br /&gt;-         Contact lens solution&lt;br /&gt;-         Shoes&lt;br /&gt;-         2 plane tickets to Ohio (who the fuck goes there???? We don’t have hotels there, are you prospecting a new hot spot for a resort? Right!)&lt;br /&gt;-         Jelly inserts for your bra (personal favorite, I saw you wearing them and you still look flat and you can definitely tell)&lt;br /&gt;-         3 trips to Starbucks daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to ask….don’t you have your own credit card? Must you charge $2.31 on the card 3 times a day everyday. Don’t you know the breakdown on the bill clearly shows me who is charging what? Its not like you’re getting away with anything the other A/P manager just forgot to do last months bill so nothing was taken off. It hurt to have you paycheck docked almost 10 grand didn’t it? Well I enjoyed it thoroughly. Go and bitch to the owner and explain to him why the company should pay for your boobs and liquor fests along with burgers for your brats. Oh that’s right, you can’t because it will make you look bad. Well then throwing dirty looks at me everyday works too, especially since I don’t work for you anymore ;) Have I told you I hated you lately? No….well I do. Have a nice day, and use your own damn card&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115349105985548189?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115349105985548189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115349105985548189&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115349105985548189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115349105985548189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/07/company-credit-card-part-one-frosty.html' title='The Company Credit Card Part One: Frosty Bitch'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115274445803294339</id><published>2006-07-12T15:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T16:00:07.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missed Connection: Good Drivers on the Capitol Beltway</title><content type='html'>Ahhh the beltway..... who doesn't love a poorly paved curved road where driving 70 in the slow lane could get you killed???? Who????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memo to various beltway misfits:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First: While I know I am in a sports car and you might not be able to see me I try to alleviate this by not driving in your blind spot. Since you can see me, can you tell me why you think your car can occupy the same space as mine? There was enough room for you to get in front of me....was the excitment of slowing down to get into my lane in the same exact space as me too much to handle? I can understand, I work in accounting the most fun that happens in my day a silly inter-office joke or an invoice with a funny amount ($6.66....hahahahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second:  Just because my window is down doesn't mean its an open inivation for a traffic solicitation for chat, money, a cigerette or anything else. Basically, Don't yell to me in my car from your car. I understand you want to "holla" at me, but I am not sure traffic is the best mood to catch me in. Nothing about being stuck in a 40 minute traffic jam to get 5 miles makes me want anything (though I am sure the "something" you "got for ya" is lovely) other then a beer and my couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly: Silver Jetta guy.... I see you every morning, it is painfully obvious you're not talking to anyone on the phone. Whipping it out and shouting into it while staring at me and other women commuter slaves doesn't make you look cool.  It looks dumb. Please stop it just irritates me. Maybe I should bust my cell out and yell, "sorry can't hear you, this loser pretending to talk on the phone in his car to make himself look better is talking to loud to his imaginery friend". But I wont because I am too lazy and though I do talk to myself, I don't do it into my phone. I usually use my computer screen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115274445803294339?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115274445803294339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115274445803294339&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115274445803294339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115274445803294339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/07/missed-connection-good-drivers-on_12.html' title='Missed Connection: Good Drivers on the Capitol Beltway'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115255036724375337</id><published>2006-07-10T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T09:52:47.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People You Meet At Work: Part 2</title><content type='html'>The Silent Manager/Boss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an interesting creature because while they want/need constant updates and want things done exactly to their specifications they will not actually tell you any of these things in any verbal way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silent Boss accosts me this morning: I never said to write “xxxx” on these invoices!!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year: “ Ok, I’m sorry. What is it you would like me to write in the space where it asks for the “xxx”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SB: “ Well…. Write then “xxxx” but not with the “xxx” abbreviated this way, abbreviate it without the period (.)”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year: “Ok, so the problem is where I have it abbreviated with a number sign (#) you would like it with both the period and the number sign?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sb: “I am going to go to lunch, can you fix all those please?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure…. Because I am a mind reader. Why didn’t you just point out your dysfunctional system to me to begin with?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or even more irritating, the SB who consistently neglects to tell you they are leaving for the day when they were supposed to meet with you, sign something, or otherwise do their job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rewind to last Thursday, I have been trying to get this wretched women’s attention the whole damn day. I need checks to pay the bills, I cannot sign checks over a certain dollar amount, those require 2 signatures. So first thing in the morning I ask her to take 2 minutes to sign them. She keeps leading me on that she will do them later, but later never happens. Sometime around 1:30 I decide I have had enough and once again march into her office. Suspiciously her handbag is not there and her computer appears to be off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She can’t have gone home! It’s the middle of the day, surely she would have SAID SOMETHING. But no…. the silent boss is an enigma, a mystery you will never figure out. Maybe she’ll be at work, maybe not. Maybe you need to print those on the light purple paper, but she might want it on the pale green. Either way…don’t bother to ask hee, she won’t tell you!!!!! One would think all this mystery would add some excitement to the day…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Year-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115255036724375337?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115255036724375337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115255036724375337&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115255036724375337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115255036724375337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/07/people-you-meet-at-work-part-2.html' title='People You Meet At Work: Part 2'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115083064416766793</id><published>2006-06-20T12:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T12:10:44.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Um.... Excuse me???</title><content type='html'>So.... and I am still a bit shocked about this so you'll have to excuse me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today the CFO comes by my desk and says, "First Year, we're moving you today".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really...moving me? Like to a new office? The CFO needs to tell me this? I guess things are slow over in assets aqusition today????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then tells me to get all my crap and buzz him when I am done. Okaaaay then. So I box up all my shit, all the while hoping moving me doesn't really mean fired :) Then I buzz him and he starts walking me down the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I notice we're moving out of legal and into where the accountants for asset acquisition sit....um ooookay I think. Then he stops at an empty office and says, "OK...heres your new office, the accounts payable specialist left and when I picked up your resume this seemed right up your alley. Bible Thumping Manager (will tell this story in an upcoming post) will be by in about an hour to get you started. You'll report to me instead of Insane General Counsel now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT???? Excuse me??? Did you just change my job for me? I hate accounting....yea yea I know I did accounting in undergrad, but I am in law school now, I want to eventually work in a general counsel's office. Thats really why I took this job for the cold bitch! At least I'm taking a pay raise, but what the fuck. Is that a normal thing to do?? Anyone??? Bueller??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the upside I have a waaaay bigger and nicer office, no more crazy bitch boss, and more money. On the downside, I am not once again an accounting troll destined for days locked away in my office putting codes on bills and signing checks for more money then everything I have and will ever have will be worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it just me? Would anyone else be a bit....surpised and possibly confused?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115083064416766793?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115083064416766793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115083064416766793&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115083064416766793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115083064416766793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/06/um-excuse-me_20.html' title='Um.... Excuse me???'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-115032139668944135</id><published>2006-06-14T14:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T14:43:16.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am in LOVE!!!!</title><content type='html'>So... the old one was white, pretty dingy and definetly worn out. Pieces were broken that I *needed* and it was way too cold....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now HE has arrived. He's black and so tall, looming over me. He's cool but not too cold, has plenty of room and all of his pieces are functional..... oh I am so happy. It was love at first site :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4591/1473/320/kittens%20and%20fridge%20144.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And New :&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4591/1473/320/kitchen%20002.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yes.... I did give him a big hug when he got off the truck. Before you think me mad....understand that a fridge that cannot cool my beer and keep my hard liquor ice cold is no fridge at all....a mere shell of a fridge. But that fridge is now dead to me, I am ready to begin anew with my black stallion. Plus... he gives me water and ice on demand, who doesn't love that?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;First Year-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-115032139668944135?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/115032139668944135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=115032139668944135&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115032139668944135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/115032139668944135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-am-in-love.html' title='I am in LOVE!!!!'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-114952068215603798</id><published>2006-06-05T08:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-05T09:00:40.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Backyard Showdown: FirstYea v. Sod</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h52/MarinDCA/Back%20Yard%204%2020%202006/lawn24.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h52/MarinDCA/Back%20Yard%204%2020%202006/lawn24.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h52/MarinDCA/Back%20Yard%204%2020%202006/mainlawn14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h52/MarinDCA/Back%20Yard%204%2020%202006/mainlawn14.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh... I don't want to own up to the fact that I am loosing a battle with grass, but I believe that I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see when we moved in here, the yard was a wreck and I was told not to worry.... we would have grass, the condo association would pay for it, or we would get a contractor. I breathed a sigh of relief and waited. However.... it is now June and when I go out to tend to my veggies and flowers what do I see? Oh.... a bare lawn with weeds everywhere :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now...those were taken at the end of April....the only difference now is that there are weeds  (mainly the prickly kind) where some of the bare spots are and the 4 pieces of grass that were there before are now like a foot tall. This just aggrivates me so badly, the beds along the perimeter of the yard so pretty, full of growing veggies and lush flowers and vines. The center area....looks nasty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....first I tried to fight with the condo association, no luck there of course. Now.... I am getting estimates. Now... I have a pretty small yard, (less then 600 sq. ft.) and the estimates I am getting are not even half way affordable. So.... we may do it ourselves....but I don't have the time. If I have to look at that during our BBQs and out of my office windows I think I will just cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate you backyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news...my peas are here and they are delicous...too bad they had to look at that ugly ass dead weed lawn while they were growing, I wouldn't want MY home to look like that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-114952068215603798?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/114952068215603798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=114952068215603798&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/114952068215603798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/114952068215603798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/06/backyard-showdown-firstyea-v-sod_05.html' title='Backyard Showdown: FirstYea v. Sod'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h52/MarinDCA/Back%20Yard%204%2020%202006/th_lawn24.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-114900774426479445</id><published>2006-05-30T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T09:49:04.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People You Meet at Work #1: Mailroom Guy</title><content type='html'>Well…. Since entering the corporation law world I have met some interesting characters. Today, my focus is on the mailroom guy. Here at  “random company” we have 2 main mail room guys. Lets call one Great Mail clerk (GMC) and one Creepy Weirdo (CW). So I love GMC, he always has what I need, always gives me the mail where I want it, and has an inexhaustible supply of mailing shit. CW on the other hand is a total freak. I made the mistake of being nice to him when I first started and now he won’t leave me alone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure GMC is friendly and says hi when he passes by…. But CW has taken this to an extreme, I MUST look up and smile at him when he skulks by or else he will stand in my doorway like a nutcase and stare at me (not saying anything, just waiting for me to notice his presence). On the off-chance that I have my door shut he will stand there and stare into the panes of glass waiting for me to acknowledge him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fair enough, he likes attention… but so what? Well… I am not used to the mail situation. I am usually the one who does the mailings, so just randomly leaving my mail and fed ex crap in an out folder near my desk and assuming they will come to get it freaks me out a bit. Sometimes I admit it, I go to the mailroom and hand them something, usually when its something very important. GMC never cares, he always smiles, takes it and makes some small talk. CW on the other hand acts as if I have entered his forbidden lair. He turns off his computer screen, bolts to his feet, and grabs whatever I am holding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, me and CW had a showdown last week, where I gave him 16 DHL packages and he failed to actually mail 2 of them, and wouldn’t have unless GMC noticed them sitting around, the next day. Now… I had marked these for extremely urgent overnight, to be delivered by 10:30 in the AM. If these people don’t get their stock certificates who do they blame? No…. not mailroom misfit… ME. So, I was upset, and I no longer trust him with my important mail. He of course has taken this as a personal affront, ignoring all social boundaries to get on my good side. This just makes me hate him more. Plus… I finally got a glimpse of his computer screen and he’s looking at porn in the mail room. I would feel a lot better knowing my important mail did not have semen on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh…. The corporate world is an interesting and varied place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-114900774426479445?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/114900774426479445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=114900774426479445&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/114900774426479445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/114900774426479445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/05/people-you-meet-at-work-1-mailroom-guy.html' title='People You Meet at Work #1: Mailroom Guy'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-114840142831515625</id><published>2006-05-23T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T09:23:48.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Saying Hello</title><content type='html'>So... I have been MIA for a bit and I guess I really don't want to just let this blog thing go....so I need to start posting again...so here I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know what has me so down lately. At first I thought it was all the build-up for finals and with all the other crap for school and then after days and days of mindless work. But I don' t think thats the case. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... this is my 4th week on the new job and while I love the work and the office and the position something just irks me about the person over me. I don't know whether its the lack of any sort of compassion, empathy or simple social skills needed to deal with an employee or well I don't know or what. She is just the least friendly, meanest, most unpleasant women I think I have worked for. Usually this doesn't bother me because I can avoid and plan.... but once in awhile she will do something that just makes this urge to quit well up inside of me. Only I can't quit because of the obvious reasons (rent, food, insurance, beer, etc) so I continue on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I type that it is her putting me in this rotten off depressed mood. It just seems like theres never anything to look forward to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also... the commute into Tysons is interesting. I have always known us VA drivers are not low on agression,  (or in some cases stupidity) but.... and this message is specifically to those commuting FROM tysons to Alexandria/95S...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you do this every fucking day. Really.... these 2 lanes turn into just one 1. They do this every time, it didn't just happen and its always in the same spot. If there is a space I am making for you in front of me.... take it and enjoy, do not instead come to a dead stop speeding up only when I finally give up and decide to go in front of you. And you...giant mercedes SUV. I am already clearly in front of you in the portion of the road where it is already 1 lane. Why are you driving in the breakdown lane/grass to pass me? Its too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just merge.....really MERGE!!!!! I really think that folks acting like morons should just be shot.... if you're too dumb to figure out your daily commute you really should not be living independently and driving a vehicle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... I guess I should return to work!&lt;br /&gt;FirstYear&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-114840142831515625?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/114840142831515625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=114840142831515625&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/114840142831515625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/114840142831515625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/05/just-saying-hello.html' title='Just Saying Hello'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-114779317267389718</id><published>2006-05-16T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T08:26:18.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>:(</title><content type='html'>Even a free cappaccino from the corporate lunch room can't make first year happy today :( Will come back to posting soon, I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-114779317267389718?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/114779317267389718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=114779317267389718&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/114779317267389718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/114779317267389718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/05/blog-post.html' title=':('/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15787485.post-114657172799649736</id><published>2006-05-02T05:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T05:32:42.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Business Professional Blues</title><content type='html'>Well... First Year is starting a new job. Which means the ending of my work from home crappy ass job and the start of working with the general counsel for a corporation. I am so excited about the job, it pays much better, its law related.... and its NOT in DC!!!! thats right... yet again I have managed to avert the suductive lure of the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is however in Tyson's Corner.... which is not exactly rural, but hey... there will be a place for me to park my car so I am pleased. The only thing that sucks (and someone will make fun of me for saying this sucks, since I am in law school and all) but while the rest of the huge company must dress in office casual the legal department is stuck in 3-piece suits all day everyday. Which means I will be going to class in a suit every night ;(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I do look pretty hot in formal wear so..... I guess I can't whine too much, plus it will give me the perfect reason to go shopping, and I will be vey convenient to the mall ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope everyone's week is off to a good start. Good luck studying for finals ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FY-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15787485-114657172799649736?l=firstyearorlast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/feeds/114657172799649736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15787485&amp;postID=114657172799649736&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/114657172799649736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15787485/posts/default/114657172799649736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://firstyearorlast.blogspot.com/2006/05/business-professional-blues_02.html' title='Business Professional Blues'/><author><name>First Year</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04661846218460557212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
