Monday, December 17, 2007

On Being Hot

Last Saturday night, our company had its annual Christmas, oops, HOLIDAY party at Harrah's. Being as it was our very last one, a few of us decided to wear tiaras in honor of this very bittersweet occasion. So, donning our made-in-China tiaras on top of our festively coiffed hair, we made our way into the ballroom.

The party was...dead. I suppose it had a lot to do with the fact that it was, indeed, our last party together. That, or the fact that just weeks before we had been handed our pink slips instead of the Christmas bonus we were expecting. Either way, the few employees that bothered to show up were milling about dejectedly, while sucking on their five dollar beers.

After eating our lukewarm turkey and our watered down cranberry sauce, the Tiara Girls decided to dance. We didn't care that the DJ was the suckmeister of the airwaves. We just wanted to let off steam.

So there I was, on the dance floor with my "date," when a guy from the shipping department decided to join us. We had ourselves a jolly little threesome right there on the dance floor. All of a sudden, Shipping Boy leans over and yells in my ear "Your crown is HOT!" As if to emphasize my hotness, he waved his waist-long length hair as if it was a dancing exclamation mark. I thanked him, and continued dancing.

A few minutes later, he leaned forward again and yelled "I like dancing with two girls!" I said "Hey! Me, too!" He shook his hair again, and lurched some more on the dance floor.

When the next song started, he leaned into me again. This time he shouted "Your choker is SO HOT!" I thanked him. Then he shook his hair and did a few Elaine Bennis moves before shouting at me again. This time he said "You're so freakin' hot on the dance floor! I like the way you dance!" I thanked him again, and in reply he shook his hair like a wild man. Then all of a sudden he started to laugh, and he shouted at me again. This time he said "You know what? I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOUR FREAKIN' NAME!"

I told him that was okay...after a glass of wine, I don't even know my own freakin' name.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

The Year That Shouldn't Have Been

I think I've said it every year since I've been here in Reno: This year totally sucked. So, is it me or is it Reno? Seriously folks, inquiring minds want to know.
To top off a fairly stress-filled year, I returned from the Thanksgiving holiday to find I'd been layed off. However, unlike several of my co-workers, I am one of the "lucky" ones who gets to hang around long enough to help transfer clients and files to the company that bought us out.
After hearing this news, I received a link to a news article in our local paper that stated Reno is not the place to be looking for a job in the year 2008. It further stated that companies are not hiring, and those that hired this past year are letting people go. So, good luck to me in finding a job, eh?
Which brings me to my next point: I was told by an outplacement agency that my best chance for being hired and moving on would be to relocate. But guess what? Homey can't relocate because SHE JUST BOUGHT A HOME. And, since no one is buying homes these days it looks as if I'm stuck.
So just start calling me Debbie Downer, because apparently nothing I've written in this journal during 2007 has been uplifting. And it doesn't look as if 2008 will be any better...