Looking forward to the Halloween Horror Nights install? It's only a few months away.
Ooh maybe it'll rain again
That would be awesome.
No, I'm not kidding.
I am weirdly infuriated and depressed by this. My day didn't start off sucky enough, I have to deal with fucktard cow-orkers with Schiavo level brain liquidity chivvying me to sing some shitty song they found on the Internet? For some store-bought chocolate cake?
Seriously?
Where are the cameras? This can't be real, can it? Alan Funt is behind a wall saying "Dude, he looks like he's going to stroke out, go tell him it's a joke. Yes, 'right now', look at the guy! You wanna lawsuit on our hands?"
Right?
...
Right?
obviously, you need more flare(TM)
Suddenly THIS seems like a great blog title!
Thanks for the vote of confidence Laga.
I'm just so not trusting of my own judgment these days...
A ReWritten Life: Turn your drama into comedy and get your happy ending.
Maybe "ReWrite Your Life: Turn your drama into comedy for a happy ending" or "ReWrite Your Life: You can live happily ever after."
I think you need an active verb.
Doesn't anyone read Miss Manners anymore?
I think you need an active verb.
Very good point. My methods are very action oriented, so that would fit.
The 'rewritten' came from someone saying I needed to highlight the end result/benefit. She also said...'dont' tell me what to do! Maybe I don't want to rewrite my life. Maybe that's too scary."
Which also means she's not my client.
I like Ginger's idea, "ReWrite Your Life: You can live happily ever after."
A ReWritten Life
Bonny - I like this too. The shorter version.
other ideas (and yes, I do need a nap, so who knows whether they're good or not(TM)):
- DoOver: Making Meaningful Life Changes
- Re-Vision: Life Counseling for the Rest of It
(probably not what you're going for, but...)
- Some People Suck, but You Don't Have To
Yeah, MM. Clearly your problem is that you are only wearing the minimum number of flare pieces today. If you'd just try and express yourself... you know... wear more flare...
Yeah, MM. Clearly your problem is that you are only wearing the minimum number of flare pieces today. If you'd just try and express yourself... you know... wear more flare...
Maybe you're right.
Problem is, all I gots for flare are two buttons that says "Go Fuck Yourself" and "Seriously. Go Fuck Yourself."
Maybe I'll wear them to the Christmas party, if I'm not in an asylum by then.
Like, three people in the office thought this would be the very pinnacle of "fun" and "comedy" and the end result is fifteen people mumbling off-tune trying to get through this excruciating exercise so they can have some goddamn cake already while "F" looks bewildered and the organizers of this travesty look vaguely put out that it doesn't match their wondrous vision of how this would end up.
This is my office. At least twice a month, and sometimes more, there's some goddamn occasion where we're required to SING. There's the Happy Birthday bullshit, and then there's the Happy Anniversary bullshit, where not only do we have to sing to the person who's been unlucky enough to have worked here for X number of years, we have to make it a SURPRISE. No, seriously. We have to all sneak up on the person's office/cubicle/desk and then burst into song.
Because, after years of doing this for everyone, we have to keep pretending that the anniversary person doesn't know the ambush is coming.
I *so* dread my anniversary day.
And then sometimes we get a THIRD singing opportunity in some months, if we've had an intern for the month. On the intern's last day, we eat Graeter's (this is a good) and are forced to sing "Happy Trails" to the intern.
Do you KNOW how hard that song is to sing if you're not Roy Rogers? Do you KNOW how hard it is to get 20 people to sing that song properly? I feel *so* bad for the intern, who always looks horrified, and is no doubt wondering if he/she was the worst intern ever and is now being punished.
And yes, my office has the requisite 3 dimwits who think all this forced convivality is fun. One of them, in fact, has dubbed himself the "bandleader," and when we're all herded into the conference area and are forced to sing, he whips out a conductor's baton and "conducts" us.
Believe me when I say I try to make alternative plans for the birthday lunches and intern farewells. The anniversary stalkings are harder to get out of, because we don't know that we're going to be forced to sing until the bandleader comes around to our desks, whispering that we have to sneak up on so-and-so's office.
The worst part is when it's *my* anniversary. I have to sit there and endure it, and pretend I didn't know they'd all sneak up and sing loudly and off-key.
