So, I'm getting ready for work this morning and realize how much slower I am at putting on my make up etc if I sit down to do it. There's something about standing up that makes me whiz through it. (*note: I am hopelessly near-sighted and either have to lean waaaay over the sink so my nose is two inches away from the mirror, or I sit down with a hand-held mirror to do it. C'est ca.) Which got me to thinking about what my life will be like when I get out of the training portion of my new job and head into the work-a-day world of a call center. Now, I'm used to having a job where I was not chained to my desk. Although I was chained to the phones, I was frequently up and out of my seat, due to other job requirements, several times an hour. If I wasn't, I became restless, bored and achy. Moving around frequently was good for me. Apparently I am not the only person to feel this way.
Dr. Adam Levine, an obesity researcher at Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn has been developing a new work environment that encompasses NEAT, non-exercise activity thermogenesis. You may recall my old post about sleeping on top of the covers to make our bodies burn more calories. In effect, our bodies are like big, old factories requiring heat energy to keep us warm. This heat energy is produced by the burning of calories. Simple science. Dr. Levine capitalizes on this fact by designing workstations that require workers to participate in a very low level of activity while they work. For instance, a work station may be attached to a treadmil set at 1 mph so the employee walks at a slow pace while working, without breaking a sweat or becoming winded. This low level of activity yields some big results. Dr. Levine estimates that the average person will burn an additional 100 calories per hour with as much as 1000 calories per day. Overall, this could result in a fifty pound weight loss per year with no other changes either to diet or exercise. What obese person wouldn't jump at the chance to do this?!? Hellow, one of the biggest hurdles to my weight loss is finding a way to fit in the time to get it done with everything else I'm doing. Voila! Problem solved. Thank you, Dr. Levine.
Now another of Dr. Levine's innovations is the moving meeting. Instead of sitting around a table discussing strategies and solutions, meeting-goers would pace the track together looking at the whiteboard walls as they go around. Now, as wonderful as all of this sounds, I can't help but find myself feeling very skeptical about the potential for success here as I look around the training room and my fellow trainees. Now, I certainly could be throwing the first french fry here, but most of the women in my class make me look petite. I'm talking two to three Muskegon units each. And extra large chairs.
However, all hope is not lost. I've noticed a marked prediliction for all things sweet and squishy by the fellow trainees. So, using the old donkey following a carrot scenario, I can totally imagine my coworkers chasing the donuts around the track. How's that for the office of the future?
Friday, July 29, 2005
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Ain't No Holla-back Girl
I'd like to say a word in defense of forgiveness. Defense, you say? No one is attacking the concept of forgiveness, so that you know, so why defend it? Ok, thank you for asking. I am defending forgiveness because....
NO ONE LIKES TO FORGIVE BAD GUYS. Bad guys should eat dirt and learn to love it. Right?
Well, let me refute you. I recently had a bad experience. Someone hurt me. Now, I had every right under God to get mad and stay mad. As a matter of fact, no one would have blamed me if I had done something really mean like taken out a billboard in his hometown detailing his exploits. But I didn't. I forgave.
Now, you all know that humility is my middle name and that I would be the last person to toot my own horn, but forgiving him makes me a good person. Better than good. Saintly. But that is kind of beside the point.
My exemplary characteristics aside, defending forgiveness goes deeper than the validation it gives me (as much as I looooove validation). It is about moving on. Being healthy. And someday being whole enough to let good things into my life. Ok, so I've hit the whole person stage and am ready to get on with the good things life has to offer me. So, of course, my attention turns to all of you.
I can't help but think of the ugliness that unforgiveness breeds. I think of it like a canker. You hold something against someone because some day you are going to whip it out and lash 'em with it. But what happens is that canker begins to infect the area around the heart. It begins to flow through the veins. It begins to poison everything you touch. And you know the worst of it? That ugliness, that poison, it rarely gets spewed on the source of your unforgiveness. No, that poison gets spewed all over the ones you love the most, the ones you breathe and eat and sleep with. Yeah, we think our unforgiveness is a weapon against the one who hurt us. In reality, all it does is ensure that all the other relationships you once enjoyed get tainted, too. So much for love.
NO ONE LIKES TO FORGIVE BAD GUYS. Bad guys should eat dirt and learn to love it. Right?
Well, let me refute you. I recently had a bad experience. Someone hurt me. Now, I had every right under God to get mad and stay mad. As a matter of fact, no one would have blamed me if I had done something really mean like taken out a billboard in his hometown detailing his exploits. But I didn't. I forgave.
Now, you all know that humility is my middle name and that I would be the last person to toot my own horn, but forgiving him makes me a good person. Better than good. Saintly. But that is kind of beside the point.
My exemplary characteristics aside, defending forgiveness goes deeper than the validation it gives me (as much as I looooove validation). It is about moving on. Being healthy. And someday being whole enough to let good things into my life. Ok, so I've hit the whole person stage and am ready to get on with the good things life has to offer me. So, of course, my attention turns to all of you.
I can't help but think of the ugliness that unforgiveness breeds. I think of it like a canker. You hold something against someone because some day you are going to whip it out and lash 'em with it. But what happens is that canker begins to infect the area around the heart. It begins to flow through the veins. It begins to poison everything you touch. And you know the worst of it? That ugliness, that poison, it rarely gets spewed on the source of your unforgiveness. No, that poison gets spewed all over the ones you love the most, the ones you breathe and eat and sleep with. Yeah, we think our unforgiveness is a weapon against the one who hurt us. In reality, all it does is ensure that all the other relationships you once enjoyed get tainted, too. So much for love.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Blonde is as Blonde Does
Now, I know that if my daughter were missing, I would move heaven and earth to do what I could to save her. However, I must say that Natalee Holloway's mother may be enjoying the limelight drawn by her daughter's disappearance a bit too much. Is this a search for a missing loved one or a PSA about how to live well the Hollow-way? Every picture shows Natalee in yet another picture-perfect pose, arm-in-arm with someone on her way to fun, adventure and goodtimes. Will she have her prom dress or her bikini on in the next picture? It is almost as if Mrs. Holloway thinks that the value of her daughter increases in direct proportion to the perception of her being a beauty-queen-scholar-cheerleader-popular type. And speaking of value, ONE MILLION is the call tag for finding this young lady alive. She does indeed have friends in the right places. Like the bank.
God help the poor, ugly kids that get abducted. You wouldn't be hearing so much about them that's for sure. For instance, a few weeks ago, three little kids in a slum-ridden Latino community in MA went missing. Just a blurb is all it got in the paper, despite a lengthy article on Natalee's disappearance. And equally small was the blurb a few days later explaining that the children had been found in a neighbor's locked trunk. Follow up: nil. Never was it explained whether the children of that poverty-laden neighborhood were at risk from some insane person wanting to keep them for later or whether they just climbed in themselves and accidentally got shut in. Oh, no. The general public has no interest in discovering that. But we have an unalienable right to learn all we never wanted to know abut some snot-nosed rich kid partying in the Caribbean who got herself in trouble triple-timing the natives. Newsworthiness is not necessarily about informing the public, but rather about what sells. But, that's an old story.
God help the poor, ugly kids that get abducted. You wouldn't be hearing so much about them that's for sure. For instance, a few weeks ago, three little kids in a slum-ridden Latino community in MA went missing. Just a blurb is all it got in the paper, despite a lengthy article on Natalee's disappearance. And equally small was the blurb a few days later explaining that the children had been found in a neighbor's locked trunk. Follow up: nil. Never was it explained whether the children of that poverty-laden neighborhood were at risk from some insane person wanting to keep them for later or whether they just climbed in themselves and accidentally got shut in. Oh, no. The general public has no interest in discovering that. But we have an unalienable right to learn all we never wanted to know abut some snot-nosed rich kid partying in the Caribbean who got herself in trouble triple-timing the natives. Newsworthiness is not necessarily about informing the public, but rather about what sells. But, that's an old story.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Just Shake It, Baby, Shake It
A blink and it's gone. But it was there. A virus invaded this blog, posted strange, twisted tales of love gone wrong, heart ache and financial penury. This virus, devious little devil that it was, even posted replies to my poor confused readers who actually believed the urban myths being touted by said worm. While the worm is as good as gone, I doth fear it could rear its ugly head again. Thus, I've countered. Fire with fire.
Grouping the mental loins of my mind, I have devised a plan by which we can thwart said worm should there be random recurrences of its ugliness. But I will need your help, Dear Readers. If you would please join with me in this fight to the death against a viral anomaly bent on destroying the narcisstic armour I have constructed so diligently, shielding my true persona from the harsh light of celebrity, I would be immensely grateful.
What needs to transpire is merely this. If a post should appear here which mysteriously reeks of truth, transparency or unabashed sincerity, the Dear Readers need to spring into action. As quickly as your nimble little fingers are able, post a response which includes the code words "snake in the grass" or "snake on the loose" or "uncurable maniac invades blog." I have installed a hidden device which, upon detecting these words will instantaneously send me a super-buzzing text message on my phone instructing me to call a secret 1-900 number where I will hear nothing but the words: "Who doth hast the unalienable right of pretension?" whereby I will give the password "Thy delectible diva, Bunnyjo." After a series of beeps, a computer generated voice will direct me to enter my secret 4-digit pin number. Then I will have to verify the last four digits of my social security number. Then, after spelling my mother's maiden name, the computer-generated voice will read the posted message. Pressing # then activates a seek-and-destroy counter-worm programmed to decimate any invading worm within contact. Voila! Problem solved. Ingenius, yes?
It is good to be Bunnyjo.
Grouping the mental loins of my mind, I have devised a plan by which we can thwart said worm should there be random recurrences of its ugliness. But I will need your help, Dear Readers. If you would please join with me in this fight to the death against a viral anomaly bent on destroying the narcisstic armour I have constructed so diligently, shielding my true persona from the harsh light of celebrity, I would be immensely grateful.
What needs to transpire is merely this. If a post should appear here which mysteriously reeks of truth, transparency or unabashed sincerity, the Dear Readers need to spring into action. As quickly as your nimble little fingers are able, post a response which includes the code words "snake in the grass" or "snake on the loose" or "uncurable maniac invades blog." I have installed a hidden device which, upon detecting these words will instantaneously send me a super-buzzing text message on my phone instructing me to call a secret 1-900 number where I will hear nothing but the words: "Who doth hast the unalienable right of pretension?" whereby I will give the password "Thy delectible diva, Bunnyjo." After a series of beeps, a computer generated voice will direct me to enter my secret 4-digit pin number. Then I will have to verify the last four digits of my social security number. Then, after spelling my mother's maiden name, the computer-generated voice will read the posted message. Pressing # then activates a seek-and-destroy counter-worm programmed to decimate any invading worm within contact. Voila! Problem solved. Ingenius, yes?
It is good to be Bunnyjo.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
FYI
I've deleted a few posts that question the tone of this blog. They were, in one word, gloomy. I never intended to be vulnerable, transparent or tell my Dear Readers anything that would actually reflect the inner workings of my life. I intended merely to enrich the Dear Readers' lives by encouraging them through the example I embody. However, the last few weeks and last few posts have punched ginormous holes in my otherwise glossy exterior, exposing the tender fragility of my insides. It was an egregious error in judgement. It is my hope that the Dear Readers will forget all about that truthful, transparent tripe and get back to what makes this blog unique: believing I'm perfect. C'est moi~
P.S. "The Shrew" and "Patterns and Contingency" will soon be finding their way to deletion land, as well. I have delayed their deletion due to a strong current of contrariness. Live with it. ;)
P.S. "The Shrew" and "Patterns and Contingency" will soon be finding their way to deletion land, as well. I have delayed their deletion due to a strong current of contrariness. Live with it. ;)
Friday, July 15, 2005
It's So Easy
Dear Readers,
When you are as gifted and fascinating as I am, you go about the world with a strong sense of deservedness. For instance, I know that I deserve to be treated not only well, but extremely well. The world must compensate me for the graciously granted boon of benefiting from my presence. I prefer my compensation in cold, hard cash. Unfortunately for me, there are few places on this earth where I can both be treated extremely well and get cold, hard cash at the same time. However, as my enviable persona doth entail, I have found such a place on the earth: Charter Communications.
Now, before you gasp with shock and awe at my audacity in working for the monster, let me just say two things:
1.) This in no way changes my very strong opinion that capitalism is a vice that squeezes the life out of hard-working Americans to satiate the incredible greed of a very few (undeserving) people.
2.) While corporations rob the food out of starving children's mouths on a daily basis, once in while a corporation comes along who tries to do it right. Charter just may be one of those companies.
The list of benefits in working for Charter read like the demands at a AFLCIO strike: vision, dental, medical insurance, two weeks vacation, three floater vacation days, eight paid holidays, liberal attendance policy, two 15-minute breaks (paid) and one hour-long lunch everyday (employees could actually get in trouble for skipping a break), and last but not least, FREE digital cable with premium channels (HBO, here I come!) and HIGH SPEED INTERNET. But the list does not end there. Charter actually makes this a cool place to have to spend eight hours a day. They provide an X-Box just for fun and sponsor two charity competitions annually for Charter employees. There's also air hockey for those joy-stick challenged persons like myself. Or maybe basketball's your game. If so, you can shoot hoops, as well. They have several hi-def TVs with cable (of course) for our viewing pleasure. They provide three PCs to browse the net and get email while at work. They make fresh, hot popcorn and cookies for employees everyday to snack while they sip the free capuccino, coffee and hot chocolate that's provided. They have a cool break area that looks more like a cafe than a break room, complete with industrial-look hightop tables and stools. There's a quiet area with comfy sofas where people can study (or take a nap, if needed). There's a huge lunch room with great food (even a frozen-then-freshly-baked vending machine that doles out pizza, lasagna, french fries etc) and a cool look. You know, I could go on, but you get the idea. This is not just a place to work, it's a place to feel appreciated. And it is balm to my soul.
I'd like to say one other thing about Charter. I've worked for the corporate monster for a lot of years. The people that work for the corporate monster are stupid, dorky assholes, not exactly the kind of people you'd spend your free time with. Not so, Charter. For some reason (no wonder why), they attract some of the coolest people I've seen in an awful damn long time. There's a drummer from a local rip band sporting a bright blue spiked mohawk, a groovy singer/techno geek from a local band, a chick with pink and purple hair. The list goes on. And the people I've actually met are people I'd actually want to hang out with. They are fun and cool and creative and intelligent and witty. And you know what else? They aren't all stressed out and bitchy. I'm actually liking it here. I'm making friends, and it feels good.
One other thing: I'm actually getting paid to do what I've been paying good money to do for the last year: study and learn. Charter offers tuition and book reimbursement. When I look around me, I see a LOT of cool jobs here. With a little more schooling, I could launch myself into a rocking damn job making good money with a bunch of great people. How awesome is that?!?!
When you are as gifted and fascinating as I am, you go about the world with a strong sense of deservedness. For instance, I know that I deserve to be treated not only well, but extremely well. The world must compensate me for the graciously granted boon of benefiting from my presence. I prefer my compensation in cold, hard cash. Unfortunately for me, there are few places on this earth where I can both be treated extremely well and get cold, hard cash at the same time. However, as my enviable persona doth entail, I have found such a place on the earth: Charter Communications.
Now, before you gasp with shock and awe at my audacity in working for the monster, let me just say two things:
1.) This in no way changes my very strong opinion that capitalism is a vice that squeezes the life out of hard-working Americans to satiate the incredible greed of a very few (undeserving) people.
2.) While corporations rob the food out of starving children's mouths on a daily basis, once in while a corporation comes along who tries to do it right. Charter just may be one of those companies.
The list of benefits in working for Charter read like the demands at a AFLCIO strike: vision, dental, medical insurance, two weeks vacation, three floater vacation days, eight paid holidays, liberal attendance policy, two 15-minute breaks (paid) and one hour-long lunch everyday (employees could actually get in trouble for skipping a break), and last but not least, FREE digital cable with premium channels (HBO, here I come!) and HIGH SPEED INTERNET. But the list does not end there. Charter actually makes this a cool place to have to spend eight hours a day. They provide an X-Box just for fun and sponsor two charity competitions annually for Charter employees. There's also air hockey for those joy-stick challenged persons like myself. Or maybe basketball's your game. If so, you can shoot hoops, as well. They have several hi-def TVs with cable (of course) for our viewing pleasure. They provide three PCs to browse the net and get email while at work. They make fresh, hot popcorn and cookies for employees everyday to snack while they sip the free capuccino, coffee and hot chocolate that's provided. They have a cool break area that looks more like a cafe than a break room, complete with industrial-look hightop tables and stools. There's a quiet area with comfy sofas where people can study (or take a nap, if needed). There's a huge lunch room with great food (even a frozen-then-freshly-baked vending machine that doles out pizza, lasagna, french fries etc) and a cool look. You know, I could go on, but you get the idea. This is not just a place to work, it's a place to feel appreciated. And it is balm to my soul.
I'd like to say one other thing about Charter. I've worked for the corporate monster for a lot of years. The people that work for the corporate monster are stupid, dorky assholes, not exactly the kind of people you'd spend your free time with. Not so, Charter. For some reason (no wonder why), they attract some of the coolest people I've seen in an awful damn long time. There's a drummer from a local rip band sporting a bright blue spiked mohawk, a groovy singer/techno geek from a local band, a chick with pink and purple hair. The list goes on. And the people I've actually met are people I'd actually want to hang out with. They are fun and cool and creative and intelligent and witty. And you know what else? They aren't all stressed out and bitchy. I'm actually liking it here. I'm making friends, and it feels good.
One other thing: I'm actually getting paid to do what I've been paying good money to do for the last year: study and learn. Charter offers tuition and book reimbursement. When I look around me, I see a LOT of cool jobs here. With a little more schooling, I could launch myself into a rocking damn job making good money with a bunch of great people. How awesome is that?!?!
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Reality Bites
Why is America so smitten with denigrating reality TV? There is some real quality programming that could quite accurately be described as "reality." For instance, take Nick and Jessica.
Alright, admit it. You tuned in to see Nick jeer at Jessica, call her an idiot. You salivated waiting for some post-honeymoon snuggling. You just knew one day Nick was gonna knock some sense into that blonde helium bubble. But that's not why you stayed.
You, like every other human on the planet, stayed because it was compelling television. Gripping. We watched Nick morph from a footnote tattooed on Jessica's epic ass to a real man. Installing pinball machines and plucking dead birds from the lawn. We ached with him when Jessica nixed the doggy he wanted just because the poop would be big. And we cheered him on while he valiantly tried to explain to Jess the mechanics of household finance: no, honey, we don't need $1200 sheets! And occasionally we were rewarded when Nick - god that he is - would take off his shirt while he manfully putzed in a golf place (green? Is that what it's called?)
Alright, admit it. You tuned in to see Nick jeer at Jessica, call her an idiot. You salivated waiting for some post-honeymoon snuggling. You just knew one day Nick was gonna knock some sense into that blonde helium bubble. But that's not why you stayed.
You, like every other human on the planet, stayed because it was compelling television. Gripping. We watched Nick morph from a footnote tattooed on Jessica's epic ass to a real man. Installing pinball machines and plucking dead birds from the lawn. We ached with him when Jessica nixed the doggy he wanted just because the poop would be big. And we cheered him on while he valiantly tried to explain to Jess the mechanics of household finance: no, honey, we don't need $1200 sheets! And occasionally we were rewarded when Nick - god that he is - would take off his shirt while he manfully putzed in a golf place (green? Is that what it's called?)
Yes, our hearts sank within us the night Jess got sick making that commercial, knowing poor Nick would have to pick up the slack for her...yet again. She really pulls him down. She really does.
Now that Nick and Jess are no longer regular fixtures on our MTV, we are forced to greedily purchase and then inhale the sour stench of the tabloid stories about the deterioration of their otherwise happy marriage. How can Jessica be blind to the absolute treasure she married? How could she forget the time he um, did something nice for her when she was returning from a trip or something? Compelling TV has become compelling reading.
And so I wait. I know my day is coming. Jessica can't hold him forever. And then, girls, he's comin' home to mama. Yum.
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