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Tuesday, Dec. 16, 2003 / 7:18 p.m. ~Fun With Jo and Jane~ Shhhh, don't tell anyone in my Netscape users diary ring, but I made IE 6 my default browser last weekend. I still have the ol' Netscape 4.7, but I stopped using Communicator as my email program months ago, if not close to a year (except for the time this PC was out of commission, of course), and there were so many pages that just looked funky with Netscape, and the more I used IE, and got my toolbar the way I want it, the more comfy I got, and well, there you go. I thought I'd be working alone this week, as Kukla took the entire week off to go to a funeral. She didn't have the vacation time to cover it, but because of the nepotism factor, and the site favoritism toward Kukla and her sister, my manager (M), she was allowed to do it. Makes me angry when I think of Q having to beg for an extra day after her brother died. Jane is working with me instead. And we are having SO much fun. Today we were bestest girlfriends. We talked all about the sucky relationships we've had with certain members of the man species, detailing who cheated and what we did about it, etc. I confess here and now I did not tell her about the night I called my ex's house all night, over and over, from phone booths around town, and never said a word when he, or his wife, picked up the phone. But yeah, we had no work, and it was a known fact that we had no work, and it's widely accepted that we have no work. Except for the mail which comes in a few times a day, not US mail, that comes once, but house and air delivered, and found around the site, if applicable. We open it, look at it, pile it, or send it on elsewhere, takes about 1/2 hour, tops. Then we do some data entry for the other department, if they have it. What with massive amounts of overtime worked the past two to three weeks, and temps they brought in just for this time of year, their work is mostly done. They let the temps go home early today, and Jane and I shared girlfriend stories. We already talk all about our periods, and our symptoms, and today we talked about babies and how we feel about them (we are both the same age, never had children, never married), as my friend Amy sent me beautiful photos of her baby, and herself, and her husband herself and her baby. Beautiful. Romantic courtship, perfect wedding, beautiful first child, all should be perfect, but she doubts herself. I was going to respond today to her photos and long letter received yesterday, but alas, with the onset of the menstrual goodness, no energy, blah, blah, very blah, except for chatting. And even with that, we burned ourselves out, started again, repeat. She was cranky, she's getting her moon time too, I wanted to cheer her, then she told me bad things about Q, and others, and I was afraid I'd not like her, but I reserved judgment, realized we all go through the same thing, questioning our friends, or losing our tolerance, and hopefully we get past that bad day and move on. I let Jane vent, and all was well. Yesterday at work we had a drawing for Christmas presents. One might think, being as we are the flagship location, er, or used to be, now we're flailing, listing, but used to be, of this big outsourcing company, that we'd have an actual off-site party, or even on-site party, but no. A luncheon on Friday, and I have Friday off so I'll miss it, and little gift drawings this week. Goodies like cookies, and candies, and probably candy cane striped pencils too throughout the week. Better than nothing. Thankful to have a job. Yada. Yada. Yada. But still. Did you hear today about the company, the shoe factory, that gave its employees each a $1000 bonus for each year of service? A couple guys had 19 years. Yeah, right? Wow. Bonuses? Christmas bonuses? The hell you say. My point, right, yesterday I was standing amongst my coworkers, waiting for the small token Asian woman (yeah, we have one Asian person on site - she's Vietnamese, worked there for YEARS) to draw the name from the bag, the first of three names, for three gifts, on that first day of gift giving on-site, thinking, Please don't say my name, oh please, you've never said it before, almost six years of this crap, oh please, oh please... And then I heard my name. La dee da. I won a pillow, a small throw pillow with an embroidered Santa Teddy on it. Very mucho cute. I put it on my sofa. I loves it! And, to find out, the Site Manager dude, on whom I've had a crunch (homage to Javier, all you "Felicity" fans) for a while now, picked it out. Awww, isn't that sweet? Yeah, he's gay. No, no, I kid. Jane keeps telling me she'll find out for sure, but never does. I don't care if I ever find out. He's a nice guy, and from what I can tell, a real upstanding manager. That's enough for me. Oh, yeah, I had to pick a candy cane, a paper one, then open the back to get a number, then match the number to a wrapped gift. That's how I won. Someone else got chocolates, someone else movie passes. Today, someone got jellied candies, in a nice tin, someone else got a little sled filled with something, wrapped in blue, couldn't see it (and she was even more shy about going up to collect, amidst the applause, than I), and one other got a day off with pay. Still, $1000 for each year of service? Oh man, that would've been sweet. My shoulders are killing me, my neck, I have a tension headache, the crap with the car is freaking me out, having two days off and using them to get a filling replaced and car repairs done sounds so awful. Tomorrow is supposed to be cold and rainy. And I got a Christmas card from my brother and his wife. He actually signed his name this year. I sent a letter to my cousin finally, and a Christmas card, and a stack of photos I carefully chose last night. Me, the cats, me, the cats, my apartment, the cats, me. Me protesting! Whee! One is just of the crowd at the September '01 Demonstration/March in D.C.! There were so many people trying to stop war before it started. Damn, but we were hopeful. On that note, must go eat, relax, stuff like that. Cost of the War in Iraq
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