It seems lately many of my co-workers are leaving me. They are either leaving the company or moving on to different opportunities within the company. Some opportunities within the company allow them to work at home or in other areas of the Glass Palace. Regardless, once they leave my kingdom, life is never the same. All this change has made me start to consider my own life-span at the Palace, but I realize, at this moment, "I am exactly where I'm meant to be," as the Rug Doctor would say. When the time and opportunity is right, I too, will move on. And, if I don't, I'll die here. Either way, I'm fine right now. Shit needs to get done and it certainly needs to get reported. I'm the girl that does that.
Over the past two years, I have specifically bonded with a certain group of gal pals. Some of us even formed a special alliance when we created The Boot Bitches. We would simply put out the "boot signal" on Facebook and we would all show up at work in our boots and convene at my desk or the hallway and discuss whatever was ailing us. We wore pink on Wednesdays. We joined forces against the enemy. We mocked people, shamelessly. We were one cape short of something so epic that time would have stood still and chocolate would have been calorie free. But sadly, one by one, the Boot Bitches have gone off onto their own new adventures. Now, it's just me and the Boot Bitch Mascot, whom I will need to rename. I'm feeling "a certain kinda way about it," as Top Knot Pony would say.
The latest departure from the group happens this Friday. It is with great sadness that I share with you that Sassy Pants is leaving us/me. We've been through a lot together. As of late, she has been videoing much of the happenings. I don't know how or why that started, but nonetheless, I remain her ever-faithful companion of mocking at the Glass Palace. I mean, we share deep stuff. I think I have a distinct individual relationship with all of my friends. Each person I feel comfortable sharing different things with at different levels as each person brings their own life experiences to the table. Sassy Pants brings a lot of life experience to the table, and like me, she doesn't really have "share boundaries." So, I mean, we have talked about STUFF. For example, weight. She understands the struggle. I mean, she still totally sabotages me with chocolate from time to time, but she allegedly does this out of love. She introduced me to Cookie Butter. I can't really ever forgive her for that, but the damage is done. We are moving past that. She also understands about depression and complicated feelings. She "gets" me and supports who I am and what I'm about. That's pretty cool. I mean, it isn't like I don't have other friends that I share that bond with, but I'm talking about Sassy Pants right now, so nobody else better get all butt-hurt if you think I'm excluding you, I'm not. I'm just saying, she is of my people. A bitch clan member, if you will.
And, we've talked about relationships, a lot. If I want to bitch about Shark Bait, or share an insecurity, she listens and gives advice. I mean, it's not always useful advice, like some things I'm just not willing to do (no swings, no handcuffs), but mostly, it's helpful. And sex stuff, we've shared stories. I think at my age, having really one major partner in life, I wonder about stuff. Sassy Pants doesn't think anything is off limits to talk about. We have laughed and laughed over the most random of things, because, at the end of the day, sex is pretty funny. I don't care whether you are having it, not having it, don't want it or can't stop thinking about it, it's kind of comical sometimes when you take our sense of humor and perhaps put things into an analogy. The most innocent situation and suddenly, it's dirty. And things get complicated. And frustrating. Sassy Pants gets it. She is in a long distance relationship (soon to no longer be long distance - yay for her and her partner, sucks for the Boot Bitches), so she understands when times get tough. She knows what it means when I text her one phrase, "it's a turtle kind of day." Ponder that. I bet you will not guess what that means, but maybe I'm wrong. Maybe we are all more alike than I think. And, although Top Knot Pony will not share the same outlook on this subject, she has assured me that these conversations can continue and she will take Sassy Pants place. I also have Valerina and One Eyebrow Betty to share these thoughts with, but again, it just isn't the same. Not to be forgotten, I have Zumba Barbie, but she is also no longer at the Palace and is blissfully happy in her new world. Today, at my desk, is a perfect example of the "YaYa Sisterhood of what happens when you aren't wearing Traveling Pants." I learned today that Sassy Pants, Top Knott Pony and One Eyebrow Betty don't even like "hot pockets." I know Valerina must, but again, it's just this type of conversation that keeps it real. I guess it's all about the flavor of the "hot pocket." These talks keep me abreast of what is really normal out there in the world. And, I'm not alone. I am a woman in my prime and dammit, I have questions and concerns.
Let's also address the hugging. Yeah, Sassy Pants is an attack hugger. She is a fluffy-haired hugger. She uses her boobs as a hugging weapon. Weapons of mass destruction. But, I will say this, they aren't fake hugs, they are real, "I mean it" hugs. Sincere. I mean, sure, she is squeezing me so hard that my boobs go inverted and I can't breathe, but it seems genuine, and I don't get the feeling she wants me dead, I just think she is like a little kid with a kitty that she loves maybe a bit too much. Organ function is over-rated anyway. And sometimes, she is even like Bambi coming out of the woods after the fire and she is delicate and gentle. I mean, that isn't often, but it does happen.
About wardrobe. She tells me me when Old Navy is having a sale. Now, I'm going to have to rely on reading the 10 emails I get from Old Navy daily to tell me there is a sale. Freaking inconvenient if you ask me. And belt placement. We are going to have to discuss this via text and picture messaging. I can only do so much without a visual. If I'm going to help you, you're going to have to provide picture or video coverage. I'm a little worried about a skinny girl dressing her now. Or, my God, what if she becomes a skinny girl and doesn't need my assistance? I'm going to have to set up a drop shipment of Reeces weekly.
Now, about food. I'm worried about letting her go to a new place of employment. She is unable to order lunch on her own. She likes dim sum, but doesn't like steam pork buns. She loves donuts...how will anyone know that if we don't tell them? She says she is watching her carbs. Her new co-workers need to know that is bullshit. And, all that gluten free, sugar free, carb free cookie stuff, it tastes like shit. I don't care what happens at Whole Foods, some of that stuff is vile. Who's going to warn the new people? Who's going to tell them that she needs peanut butter cups FOR SURVIVAL? This is CRITICAL people! And, she doesn't like onions. Who's going to stop that train wreck from happening?
What about her personality. Who is going to warn the new people about that? She acts all like she is guarded and won't open up to you, but she really wants you to call her Ginger Snap and hug her. I mean, don't get me wrong, she's a little mean-spirited, too. She will post a picture of you on Facebook with a booger on your nose and a tampon stuck to your shoe and fall down laughing in hysterics. And, once she does open up and start sharing... GOD HELP YOU. She will tell you things...things you can't unsee, things you can't unhear...things...I know things. Things I didn't need to know, but now I know, so I told her things she might not want to know. It's almost like a one-upping on sharing, but she is NEVER phased. The difference is, I blog about this stuff, but she just tells her close circle of trusted bitches. I guess I am lucky enough to be in the trusted bitches club.
So, now, come Monday, if I am in the bathroom having a zipper temper tantrum, no one will be there to tell about it. If I need a hug, but don't really think I need a hug, no one will be there to attack hug me...wait, no, Valerina will likely be around, somewhere. She doesn't use her boobs as weapons, so that is a plus. And now, when I am in such a vile mood I can't even stand myself, who is going to understand the real reason why? No one. Sassy Pants gets it. She knows. The good news is, my uterus gets to return to alpha status.
Who's going to make sure I go get my water in the morning?
And, I'm never going to hear anyone's ass quack when their break is over...well, her phone in her back pocket anyway. It's going to be so quiet...no one walking by to the fridge three times a day...no one righting the wrongs in the center chat...no one giving their supervisor a migraine...wait, nope, we still have plenty of those people.
Sassy Pants is my sarcastic equal. She is my Old Navy twin. She is the encouragement and the GPS coordinates to temptation in the form of chocolate. She tells me I'm pretty when I know I look gross. I look over every morning when I get to work to see if her fluffy head is over in her corner and secretly wonder what trouble she will get into on this day, and it makes me smile. I will miss that.
She says we'll stay friends. She says we'll see each other from time to time. That's what they all say. Best intentions, it's what we all have. And so, Sassy Pants, my fluffy haired hugger that has given me an education on how the "other team" lives far beyond what I ever needed to know, I bid you adieu. Let's still be FB friends and like each other's statuses and pictures and shit. Let's keep it real. And, maybe someday our paths will cross again. I heart you.
P.S. Thanks for bringing My One Fan to the blog...I hope you kids are happy.
Over the past two years, I have specifically bonded with a certain group of gal pals. Some of us even formed a special alliance when we created The Boot Bitches. We would simply put out the "boot signal" on Facebook and we would all show up at work in our boots and convene at my desk or the hallway and discuss whatever was ailing us. We wore pink on Wednesdays. We joined forces against the enemy. We mocked people, shamelessly. We were one cape short of something so epic that time would have stood still and chocolate would have been calorie free. But sadly, one by one, the Boot Bitches have gone off onto their own new adventures. Now, it's just me and the Boot Bitch Mascot, whom I will need to rename. I'm feeling "a certain kinda way about it," as Top Knot Pony would say.
The latest departure from the group happens this Friday. It is with great sadness that I share with you that Sassy Pants is leaving us/me. We've been through a lot together. As of late, she has been videoing much of the happenings. I don't know how or why that started, but nonetheless, I remain her ever-faithful companion of mocking at the Glass Palace. I mean, we share deep stuff. I think I have a distinct individual relationship with all of my friends. Each person I feel comfortable sharing different things with at different levels as each person brings their own life experiences to the table. Sassy Pants brings a lot of life experience to the table, and like me, she doesn't really have "share boundaries." So, I mean, we have talked about STUFF. For example, weight. She understands the struggle. I mean, she still totally sabotages me with chocolate from time to time, but she allegedly does this out of love. She introduced me to Cookie Butter. I can't really ever forgive her for that, but the damage is done. We are moving past that. She also understands about depression and complicated feelings. She "gets" me and supports who I am and what I'm about. That's pretty cool. I mean, it isn't like I don't have other friends that I share that bond with, but I'm talking about Sassy Pants right now, so nobody else better get all butt-hurt if you think I'm excluding you, I'm not. I'm just saying, she is of my people. A bitch clan member, if you will.
And, we've talked about relationships, a lot. If I want to bitch about Shark Bait, or share an insecurity, she listens and gives advice. I mean, it's not always useful advice, like some things I'm just not willing to do (no swings, no handcuffs), but mostly, it's helpful. And sex stuff, we've shared stories. I think at my age, having really one major partner in life, I wonder about stuff. Sassy Pants doesn't think anything is off limits to talk about. We have laughed and laughed over the most random of things, because, at the end of the day, sex is pretty funny. I don't care whether you are having it, not having it, don't want it or can't stop thinking about it, it's kind of comical sometimes when you take our sense of humor and perhaps put things into an analogy. The most innocent situation and suddenly, it's dirty. And things get complicated. And frustrating. Sassy Pants gets it. She is in a long distance relationship (soon to no longer be long distance - yay for her and her partner, sucks for the Boot Bitches), so she understands when times get tough. She knows what it means when I text her one phrase, "it's a turtle kind of day." Ponder that. I bet you will not guess what that means, but maybe I'm wrong. Maybe we are all more alike than I think. And, although Top Knot Pony will not share the same outlook on this subject, she has assured me that these conversations can continue and she will take Sassy Pants place. I also have Valerina and One Eyebrow Betty to share these thoughts with, but again, it just isn't the same. Not to be forgotten, I have Zumba Barbie, but she is also no longer at the Palace and is blissfully happy in her new world. Today, at my desk, is a perfect example of the "YaYa Sisterhood of what happens when you aren't wearing Traveling Pants." I learned today that Sassy Pants, Top Knott Pony and One Eyebrow Betty don't even like "hot pockets." I know Valerina must, but again, it's just this type of conversation that keeps it real. I guess it's all about the flavor of the "hot pocket." These talks keep me abreast of what is really normal out there in the world. And, I'm not alone. I am a woman in my prime and dammit, I have questions and concerns.
Let's also address the hugging. Yeah, Sassy Pants is an attack hugger. She is a fluffy-haired hugger. She uses her boobs as a hugging weapon. Weapons of mass destruction. But, I will say this, they aren't fake hugs, they are real, "I mean it" hugs. Sincere. I mean, sure, she is squeezing me so hard that my boobs go inverted and I can't breathe, but it seems genuine, and I don't get the feeling she wants me dead, I just think she is like a little kid with a kitty that she loves maybe a bit too much. Organ function is over-rated anyway. And sometimes, she is even like Bambi coming out of the woods after the fire and she is delicate and gentle. I mean, that isn't often, but it does happen.
About wardrobe. She tells me me when Old Navy is having a sale. Now, I'm going to have to rely on reading the 10 emails I get from Old Navy daily to tell me there is a sale. Freaking inconvenient if you ask me. And belt placement. We are going to have to discuss this via text and picture messaging. I can only do so much without a visual. If I'm going to help you, you're going to have to provide picture or video coverage. I'm a little worried about a skinny girl dressing her now. Or, my God, what if she becomes a skinny girl and doesn't need my assistance? I'm going to have to set up a drop shipment of Reeces weekly.
Now, about food. I'm worried about letting her go to a new place of employment. She is unable to order lunch on her own. She likes dim sum, but doesn't like steam pork buns. She loves donuts...how will anyone know that if we don't tell them? She says she is watching her carbs. Her new co-workers need to know that is bullshit. And, all that gluten free, sugar free, carb free cookie stuff, it tastes like shit. I don't care what happens at Whole Foods, some of that stuff is vile. Who's going to warn the new people? Who's going to tell them that she needs peanut butter cups FOR SURVIVAL? This is CRITICAL people! And, she doesn't like onions. Who's going to stop that train wreck from happening?
What about her personality. Who is going to warn the new people about that? She acts all like she is guarded and won't open up to you, but she really wants you to call her Ginger Snap and hug her. I mean, don't get me wrong, she's a little mean-spirited, too. She will post a picture of you on Facebook with a booger on your nose and a tampon stuck to your shoe and fall down laughing in hysterics. And, once she does open up and start sharing... GOD HELP YOU. She will tell you things...things you can't unsee, things you can't unhear...things...I know things. Things I didn't need to know, but now I know, so I told her things she might not want to know. It's almost like a one-upping on sharing, but she is NEVER phased. The difference is, I blog about this stuff, but she just tells her close circle of trusted bitches. I guess I am lucky enough to be in the trusted bitches club.
So, now, come Monday, if I am in the bathroom having a zipper temper tantrum, no one will be there to tell about it. If I need a hug, but don't really think I need a hug, no one will be there to attack hug me...wait, no, Valerina will likely be around, somewhere. She doesn't use her boobs as weapons, so that is a plus. And now, when I am in such a vile mood I can't even stand myself, who is going to understand the real reason why? No one. Sassy Pants gets it. She knows. The good news is, my uterus gets to return to alpha status.
Who's going to make sure I go get my water in the morning?
And, I'm never going to hear anyone's ass quack when their break is over...well, her phone in her back pocket anyway. It's going to be so quiet...no one walking by to the fridge three times a day...no one righting the wrongs in the center chat...no one giving their supervisor a migraine...wait, nope, we still have plenty of those people.
Sassy Pants is my sarcastic equal. She is my Old Navy twin. She is the encouragement and the GPS coordinates to temptation in the form of chocolate. She tells me I'm pretty when I know I look gross. I look over every morning when I get to work to see if her fluffy head is over in her corner and secretly wonder what trouble she will get into on this day, and it makes me smile. I will miss that.
She says we'll stay friends. She says we'll see each other from time to time. That's what they all say. Best intentions, it's what we all have. And so, Sassy Pants, my fluffy haired hugger that has given me an education on how the "other team" lives far beyond what I ever needed to know, I bid you adieu. Let's still be FB friends and like each other's statuses and pictures and shit. Let's keep it real. And, maybe someday our paths will cross again. I heart you.
P.S. Thanks for bringing My One Fan to the blog...I hope you kids are happy.
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