And furthermore...

In the same vane as my previous post about 4 minutes ago, it occurs to me that this doesn't only happen in meetings or in the corporate setting.  No, sir (and I mean NO).  It happens in restaurants too!  Think about it, it's dessert time.  Waiter comes around and asks if anyone would like some dessert.  I might say "Oh, yes please!" (especially if it's a nice chocolate dish of some kind) and my dining partner will say "No, thank you.  I'll just have some of hers. Bring two spoons."  I'm sorry, what?  So what you meant to say was, in fact, "Yes, I'd like some dessert too, please."  Even if you said simply, "Yes, we'll share one", it's better than "No" followed by all the reasons why it's actually "Yes".

What makes you think I wanna share my decadent chocolate masterpiece with you anyway???  Rude.

No. But Yes.

Why is it that-- without exception--during every meeting at the point when they ‘go around the room’ to see if anyone has anything more to add, people always say “No, just…”  For example…Colonel XX says to Major XX, “Major XX, do you have any updates for the group?”  Maj XX says “No, just one thing I want to point out…” 

Really?  If you have something to say, say it.  You’ve been asked so that’s fine.  But when you’re asked if you have something to say, don’t start off with “NO” and then continue on with your hour-long tirade.  What’s wrong with saying, “Yes, I would like to say…”?  Why does EVERYONE insist on saying “NO” followed by a bunch of crap?  It’s bad enough to hear you talking about a bunch of useless information that means nothing to anyone except for you, but to hear that nanosecond of a tease in the form of “No” followed by “just…” is downright mean.

She Should Lose Her License Completely...

There’s a news story out today about a woman who was given a ticket for going 63 in a 65.  Yes, that’s right.  She was ticketed for going too slowly in the posted zone.  These stories are being reported from the side of how WRONG it was for the cop to give someone a ticket for going too slowly.  Well here’s what I think…

This was a woman (hereto forth known as IDIOT), who was driving on the Maryland side of DC, in the LEFT LANE of an 8 lane superhighway (I know this because I’ve driven it before) endangering EVERYONE else on the road because this IDIOT chose to drive TOO slowly.  Oh, the wind and weather was a factor, say you?  Gusts of up to 40mph, you say?  Then GET IN THE RIGHT LANE AND BE A PUSSY OVER THERE.

We’ve all been behind this person before.  We’ve all wished there was a cop around to witness this hazard of the highway…this danger to all the other drivers on the road…so they can give them a ticket and stop the madness. 

The ticket should stand.  The cop who wrote it should be given a medal.

I Acknowledged You. Your Turn.

As an introvert, I’ve never been a big fan of greetings.  Giving or receiving.  “Hello’s”  “Good morning’s”, “Goodbye’s” “Congratulations” or whatever.   Blah.  I do it because it’s socially expected and there are certain things a person has to do in order to NOT be labeled as awkward, socially inept, or just downright rude. 

My uncle Dan was one of the few people I have met in my lifetime who could get away with ignoring opening pleasantries (or any pleasantries, really).  That’s mainly because he was a genius in other areas and saying something other than the direct point he was trying to get across was a waste of valuable time.  I always got a kick out of it when he called me.  The phone would ring, I’d pick up, say “hello?” and there’d be uncle Dan, “You need to buy 1000 shares of XXXX and sell 300 shares of YYY.  Do it now.” *click!*  I’m not sure he heard my “hello” and I think he’d hung up before I even had a chance to say “OK, goodbye.”  This was ok.  I knew he loved me.  I understood him and all his eccentricities.

99% of the rest of the world is not like that and are not afforded the same privileges that Uncle Dan had, to be eccentric.   Period.  Most of all not the people in the building I work in.

Human nature causes our eyes to be drawn to whatever might be in a room or area that we enter.  When you enter an elevator alone, your eyes are drawn to the buttons to push, and then you will reflexively watch the floor counter tick off the floors one by one until it’s time for your to get off.  If you walk into that same elevator with other people in it…awkward!  Now, you are fighting the natural instinct to pay attention to what is in the room WITH you and you have to FORCE yourself to look at, oh, ANYTHING else besides the person right next to you.  It’s all good.  You don’t know them, they don’t know you, you don’t really care how their day is going and you have no desire to share how your day is going with them.  You just want to keep to yourself.   It works out well.  Don’t make eye contact and all is understood.  Human nature.

We have long hallways at work.  Just as you wouldn’t say “hi” to every one of the hundred people walking past you down the street in Manhattan, you wouldn’t say “hi” to every one walking past you in a hallway either.  However, if you are walking past someone in a hallway of an office building, one for one, and your eyes, naturally drawn to the only other thing in the hallway, meet, connect, and stay there until such time as it becomes acceptable to say “hi”, nod, smile, or acknowledge in any other way, then you should do it.  If you’re looking down, away, at your phone, or what have you, then fine.  No acknowledgement necessary.   Now for me, someone who really finds greetings unnecessary and generally “blah”, even I will acknowledge a person passing me by in the hallway in that instance.  I cannot tell you how often  it gets to the point where our physical proximity is close enough to socially require that I acknowledge with either a “hello”, a smile, a “good morning” or whatever, and the person while still looking directly at me, simply ignores my greeting.   Not even so much as a smile.  Looking right at me.   At least 5 times per day this happens.   Well you know what?  I didn’t want to acknowledge your presence either.  Fuck you, too.

"Critical Thinking" Fail

When I worked for Bank Of America, I became Six Sigma “Green Belt” certified.  I remember when we started learning about the Six Sigma principles and concepts, it seem pretty easy.  They presented it to us using very basic math.  Mathematically, sigma refers to the number of defects per million.   Apply that to company “A” who produces widgets and it simply means you can have something like 3 faulty widgets for every 6 million you produce.  Easy peasy.  My mind can grasp that.

What my mind couldn’t process was how you could apply the principles of that math to an entity that doesn’t produce anything.  “Oh, but you CAN”, they say with confidence and assurance.  So the group of us worked for weeks to apply these stupid six sigma principles to something that can’t even BE quantified let alone corrected to a point of six sigma.  I clearly recall sitting there as everyone else was working like little lemmings on our “project” thinking,  am I the only one who can see that the Emperor isn’t wearing any clothes?

Fast forward to today.  The powers that be have decided that they want a quarterly report of all contracts that cost us money in the form of a powerpoint.  Got it.  They want it in a very specific form with very specific information.  Project centric.  What is the total cost of the project the contract was purchased to complete, when did it start, what is its estimated completion date, risks, issues, etc.  They even give us a nice example of a powerpoint and what it needs to contain.  However, my contract isn’t a project centric contract.  Can’t look anything like what they want.  At all.  There’s no “project” cost, estimated completion dates, etc.  It’s more of a service contract.  But they want it how they want it.  Using the example that doesn’t apply to us.  But apparently I’m the only idiot.  Square peg, round hole.  Emperor is naked again.  Its days like today when 6.5 years until retirement feels like a prison sentence rather than a goal. 

I want to work the night shift cleaning empty office buildings for a living.  Seriously. 

To be fair...

My brother just mentioned something on Facebook today about fairness.  Along the lines of taxes and fiscal cliff jibber-jabber.  He said “Something about the fairness thing always bugged him” and then linked to an article written by Scott Adams.  I like Scott Adams.  I even read the article.  But this post isn't about that.  This post is about MY take on fairness.

What’s wrong with fair?  Perhaps I am confusing “fair” with “equality”, but I don’t think I really am.  Even as a very young child, it would get stuck in my craw when something that was blatantly UN-fair was forced upon me.  I was looking back at some old report cards from elementary school and there were one or two that mentioned my…ahem…shall we say…passion, for that which was fair.  From basic childhood behavior to how we act as adults, what is fair is often times pretty cut and dry.  If a child has a toy that belongs to them and another child wants to play with it, undoubtedly there will be a scrap-match.  Usually ended by some adult talking about “Johnny, you should SHARE your toy”.  Probably more because they are tired of listening to their precious little snowflakes squawking like banshees than out of a feeling of fairness.  Either way, this leaves little Johnny frustrated and confused.  Why would he be frustrated and confused you ask?  Because it wasn't fair.  It may have been NICE, but it wasn't fair.  A six year old isn't going to be able to articulate the unfairness of the situation, but the beauty of being six is that they don’t have to.  It’s instinctual.  Human nature at its best.  They KNOW it’s not fair.  They even know why.  But someone has taken that control from them and forced them to do something that doesn't pass the stupid-test.

As an adult the same principle applies.  My brother has a nice Porsche.  I sure would like to have that Porsche.  But rather than go through 17-some-odd years of post high school education and countless years of practice to be able to afford to buy one for myself, I have decided that I don’t think it’s fair that HE has the Porsche and I don’t.  I think he should give it to me.  You know…share.  All fair-like and whatnot.  Then he can go buy another one for himself.  What…you don’t think that would be fair?  Ok.  Maybe not.  Sure would be NICE of him, though.  Yes.  Very brotherly of him indeed!  It is Hanukkah after all…

Love In A Bi-Partisan Household

As most of my posts often do, this one was born from my scanning a headline.  This one talking about being married to a person whose political views differ from your own.   While I believe that over the years we’ve discovered that our view on some fundamental social issues are very similar, our take on the other issues differ greatly.  Our opinions on the candidates themselves, the spin that most media outlets put on the candidates that they cover and want/don’t want you to think they support etc., also differ greatly.

Needless to say, this has caused some very sprightly discussions.  Arguments, if you will, in the proper sense of the word.  Now in the realm of the argument structure, Eric has me at a severe disadvantage.  I can usually keep up in the first 10 minutes or so of back-and-forth.  But he was the state champ in debate (or something like that) and did it not only in high school, but in college as well.  Whereas I am of the jump-up-and-down-flailing-my-arms-whilst-yelling-WELL-THAT’S-JUST-STUIPD-STUPID-STUPID-YOU-BIG-BUCKETHEAD school of debate.  If my dad was alive, he’d tell you the same thing.  My dad always said that the lowest form of arguing was name-calling.    He said it was reserved for those who simply didn’t understand the issue, or lacked the proper retort.  Yeah, that pretty much sums me up when it comes to politics.  Even though he made us play “The Devil’s Advocate” beginning when we were about 5, all I really became was passionate.  Arms-a-flailing.   Only winning because people didn't wish to get caught in the hand-swinging-crossfire.   And they would quit.

Granted, my arguments could be much more effective if I really cared to read deeply into the political arguments put forth by our candidates.  Don’t get me wrong, I care deeply about the issues, but I have little to no tolerance for politics.  Politicians, car salesmen, real estate agents.  There is no difference to me. 

Being married to Eric, though, a highly talented debater who can always end by agreeing to disagree, I learned the hard way that I cannot win a proper debate with him.  Even if I’m right (and I can FEEL it in my BONES!).  I’m just not able to put forth a strong enough argument in the subject of politics.  But that’s ok.  In our short number of years together spanning two presidential elections, I have learned an important lesson:  I've learned to stop flailing.  Because ultimately I love him, and it doesn't matter.  I've learned when I've reached the end of my ability-to-articulate rope, I stop.  Because ultimately I love him, and it doesn't matter.  I have learned to appreciate WHY he feels how he does and go on with life.  Because ultimately I love him, and it doesn't matter.  We share a bed, a home, a life and I love him.   And he loves me.  And ultimately, that is ALL that matters.