Saturday, July 14, 2012

Jealousy...the ultimate motivator

When I get back to the office, I am immediately going to pitch the idea to a restaurant owner of being a 100% donor for our event. 

As I was sitting at the conference and hearing all of the locations that have 100%'ers, I got really jealous.  Like, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach jealous.  Like, I wanted to pee in someones Cheerios jealous.  (That may have actually been socially acceptable with this crowd, btw.) 

(another office - me - another office)

I have a plan.  I have a restaurant owner in mind who I think would actually see the benefit of this large donation.  I think he may actually say yes.  Of course, this will ruffle some feathers for other restaurant owners, but I could give a shit...they can certainly step up to the plate if they'd like to complain.  I want a 100%'er so badly! 

And, why really? 

Because I am competitive.  What I learned this week is that my office is doing (most) everything right.  We have great marketing materials.  We have an awesome group of Ambassadors (with a few changes), and we have great, high profile restaurants, plus a willing community of diners.  Knowing that there are offices across the country who shit the bed in some of these areas, yet they have 1, 2 or even 5 of their restaurants who donate 100% makes me absolutely mental. 

I mean come on!  You can't form a single sentence that makes sense, and there is a restaurant owner who has the confidence to give you all of their sales on a particular day?! 

My competitive nature is certainly a huge personality conflict if I'm not able to keep it in check.  Some employers like it.  Some don't.  I *think* my current employer would appreciate the accomplishment of securing a 100%'er - along with some of the headache that will come from it (which honestly, will fall on my shoulders anyway). 

I'm doing it...mark my words.  If I don't, I'll eat my shirt.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

The official announcement

You mean there's a big pink elephant in the room?  No...really???

On Tuesday, chatter started during the cocktail party as to why a major player in the conference was MIA.  It was noted that he was in the building, but that he must have been jet lagged or some other kind of bullshit like that. It was assumed at that time that this person would show up for session the next morning.

Nope.  The plot thickened when we were all handed newly revised agendas with the person's name missing.  Interesting.  It wasn't until the afternoon that we were told that this person would not be at the conference this year. 

Rumors circulated...strong and hard.  I immediately texted by supervisor, and his response was "METH BENDER" which could have been a possibility, according to what I've heard from the chatter of the conference-goers.  There were many times when the organizers asked why material was not sent to them, and the basic response from the room was "it was sent to <insert name here>."  Even the casual observer could see the frustration building.  There may have also been smoke from ears, although I could have been imagining that.

It wasn't until the end of session today that the rumors were confirmed by the Board President.

The revelation was very PC and carefully worded.  "We've decided to break the contract due to differences in vision."  Yeah...dude was fired.

I wonder if he's still in the building, hiding out.  I googled the person, so I know what he looks like, just in case I do run into him accidentally.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Talk of semen will make you popular with the gays

We ate in a Top Chef Contestant's restaurant tonight, which was a huge disappointment.  The meal took 3 hours, served family style (with very small portions) and was just painful.  Obviously, the chef was not a winner, because OHMYGOD!

Feeling the need to start some lively conversation, I casually mentioned if anyone had seen the cookbook "Natural Harvest." 

Can you believe a table full of gay men didn't know there was a legit cookbook whose main ingredient is semen?!  Yeah, me either!  For the next hour there was discussion of collection, storage and flavor of semen.  I offered up that you can keep the ingredient in ice cube trays and freeze it, as you would preserve...say...pesto.  We were all disappointed that there are 61 pages in this book and not 69, which would be more appropriate.  We also wondered how the author would "sign" copies.

Two people ordered it on the spot.

Everyone emailed the link to friends. 

The conversation jumped from table to table and I heard "just google cooking with cum" more than once.  I now feel complete.

Know your own shortcomings...

...before you start ragging on other people.

It's been a long time since I traveled, and the security check point at the airport was a little overwhelming for my small brain.  This is all probably public knowledge, but you now have to basically unpack for them to check your bags for explosives and whatnot (although, lighters are allowed in your carry on - because, you know, we didn't learn anything from the shoe bomber). 

The yoga sweatshirt that I was wearing over my dress caused everyone to be up in arms, and I was asked to step aside, for what turned out to be a very inappropriate frisking. 

It's a good thing I wear underpants, because the young man who frisked me went all the way up there.  Twice.  I'm also glad that I shaved my legs.  Although I was felt up, I was more upset that said young man called me "ma'am."  That word should be outlawed.

The other humbling moment came when I entered my hotel room for the first time.  This is a green hotel and there are some quirks which triggered a blond moment for me.  As soon as you enter the room, you are supposed to place your key card in this little holder which turns on the lights in your room.  I place my key card in the slot, then removed it and stood in wonder when the lights stayed on for only 30 seconds.  I did this about 40 times over the course of an hour and started to get really pissed off.  Do you know how hard it is to clean up after taking a dump in the dark?!  I eventually figured out that if you keep your damn key in the slot, the lights will stay on. 

Not surprising, I was not the only conference-goer who had this issue.  I'm fairly certain that at least 87% of the people sitting in the conference room had skid marks and an itchy butthole.