Career Girl

My Brain: The New And Improved Self-Cleaning Model

9:05am

What can I tell you about the alleged (not that I ever straight up alleged) Claire affair? I mean, it's only been a few days, but already I am starting to doubt what I saw. There’s sort of an unreal quality to my memory of the hotel key situation. Maybe it’s because I just looked into the envelope for a split second. Or maybe it's because I'm a total spaz who needs to go to sneaky school - as I nearly barfed under my desk from sheer nerves when Marina opened it. I didn't even catch the name of the hotel for Christ sake. Though I do remember a gold fan logo, you know - like a Chinese paper fan?

Anyway, today we presented summer '08 to Mr. Copeland. The whole gang was there. Claire and Mr. Copeland seemed totally normal; they didn't pay too much attention to each other, they didn't pay not-enough attention to each other. Jasper was there of course, and I could tell that her teen radar picked up nothing (I'm referring of course to the 3.4 seconds during which she was not playing brick breaker on her blackberry). Could I have completely misread the situation?

 

 

Flipping the Bird Is Just Teen-Speak for “Thank You”

 11:25pm

Okay so maybe I'm going to hell for this, but seriously, if you had to walk a mile in my moccasins, girlfriend, you'd be right there with me. Anyway, I came up with (what I considered to be) a simple but effective plan this morning and promptly hauled ass to Naomi's office to implement my evil doings. I was like, “Listen Naomi, Claire told me confidentially that she really wishes you'd spend more time with Jasper. I mean, she knows that Jasper could learn a lot from you. Honestly, I think Jasper really looks up to you, she's just shy. No no, that snotty act is just a defense mechanism, inside she's scared little girl,” etc.

Nothing excites Naomi more than impressing Claire. I mean, it's pathetic how easy it is to get her revved. When she's really pumped, she looks like a devotee in one of those evangelical revival tents (post healing) - all glassy eyes, hallelujahs and sweat. Anyway, it worked freakishly well and Naomi hasn't let Jasper out of her sight all day. I gotta be honest - I was beyond desperate to shake her. The smell of Mystic-tan, day in and day out, was giving me hives.

 

.PS: can I get a witness? Cause, oh yes, this is the last week of Jasper's internship!

 

 

Skyrockets In Flight

3:02 p.m.

On the upside, I'm actually getting a ton of exercise today. On the downside, I've been sucked into a middle-age note passing extravaganza between Claire and Mr. Copeland. Claire’s been having me hand-deliver those confidential, inter-office envelopes to Mr. Copeland's office all day long. At least I'm not alone in this. Mr. Copeland's third assistant (yes, he has three) has had to trek back here schlepping envelopes of her own, an equal number of times.

 

Have I ever told you about his assistants? Well, first of all, they are three of the prettiest girls I've ever seen in real life (including models – who’ve all begun to look like the cast of Girl Interrupted lately). Second of all, they are three of the nastiest. Their bitchiness ascends in direct proportion to their seniority. Mr. Copeland's first assistant, Ingrid, once hit a temp with a ruler when said temp accidentally answered the phone, “Good morning, Mr. Copeland's office,” at 3 p.m. His second assistant, Ashley, once made the guy who goes around the building watering plants, weep (this was actually a huge scandal - who knew that was a union job?). Ashley refuses to speak to me directly. We communicate exclusively through the third assistant, Marina, who Ashley treats as her personal slave. Marina has perfected the art of reacting to nothing. I seriously think I could throw thumbtacks at her face and she wouldn't blink. I wonder if this is a common trait in torture victims?  So although Marina and I have been doing this little dance all day, the pleasantries have not exactly been a’flowin.

 

But just a few minutes ago, as she arrived armed with yet another envelope, she gave me a very pointed look that I wasn't sure how to interpret. It was so intense that I thought she might be coming on to me. But then she quickly unwound the string from the envelope and peeked inside. I instinctively spun around to confirm that Claire's door was closed (which I'm sure made me look like a panicky nerd).  Marina's gorgeous face lit up. "I knew it!" She said, and tipped the envelope my way so I could see. Inside was a square plastic card. For a split second I didn't get it, I guess I was thinking corporate Visa, big wup. But then I got it. It was a hotel key.

You Had Me at Replacement Toner

 2:55pm

Wow, it's been forever since I've had a proper workday! Jasper is out sick again (cue eye roll), and I have to say it feels kind of awesome to get stuff done. I'm in one of those moods where I could happily make copies and sniff markers all day long. I don't know if you know this, but I absolutely adore office supplies. It's borderline OCD. I could stay inside for an entire weekend enjoying the brilliance of the P-touch label maker. This is not something I'm throwing out there for a theoretical ha ha. It has actually happened. More than once. Such is the stuff of memories.

This reminds me of a recurring dream I used to have about doing it in the supply closet. In case you're wondering; no, by “doing it” I do not mean labeling my stapler with my address and phone number. I mean doing IT. I used to have this particular sex dream all the time before I got a corporate job. I would innocently go to the supply closet. The (do not take points off for lack of originality) stranger would already be inside, searching for the P-touch (just kidding, I made that last part up). Without speaking, we would instantly go at it, sending Post-its and ink cartridges flying.

Of course, after about five minutes of working here, I discovered that I find corporate businessmen to be about as sexy as an acrylic afghan. I haven't had the dream since.

An Open Letter To The Multitasking Women Of NYC

1:20pm

 
Dear Multitaski,

while I do admire the many balls you have in the air at any given time, and will admit that getting ahead in the modern world means cramming as much as possible into any given moment, there is a limit to your constant need to combine activities. Please stop taking every suggestion you read in Cosmo! For example; if you are say, in line at the bank and wearing (let's just say) khaki pants, squeezing in an extra workout courtesy of single-cheek butt clinches will not go unnoticed. In fact, 90% of the line will find it quite distracting, if not downright alarming. Is all that twitching the result of an improperly executed Kegel? The first sign of a seizure? Or a straightforward attempt to tone the tush? Regardless, the banking public of Manhattan has enough on their collective minds without having to play proctologist to every skinny white woman in midtown.

Sincerely,

CG.

Horror On The Hamptons Jitney

9 a.m.

Ali and I scored an invite to the Hamptons this past weekend from her friend Whitney who is some kind of an heiress (something to do with frozen foods). It came at the very last minute, so I grabbed a bikini and a toothbrush and hauled ass to meet Ali at the 69th St. stop for the Jitney. The Hamptons Jitney is basically a cutesified bus that does everything in its power convince passengers that it isn't. After all, nobody wants to feel like the riffraff riding in cheapo mass trans, while Hamptonites in higher tax brackets are chauffeured by private car. So the bus offers Wifi (that never works), snacks and a marked absence of bussy aroma. Thing is, poor in the Hamptons is rich anyplace else, so even the grubbiest passengers tend to look like they're on their way to a J. Crew shoot.

Anyway, we got there in time and were on our way - smooth sailing - blah blah blah. Till the 40th St. stop when… mmmhmmmm. Yep. Chase boarded. I fought the childish urge to cover my eyes and therefore turn invisible. There was nothing to do but clench. As he passed, our eyes met, but his face registered nothing. After obsessing for about an hour, I got up and went back to his seat. “Hey, lets talk," I said. He turned off his iPod and said, "Sure," super calmly. He then proceeded to blow my mind. He said that he owed me an apology - that he had gone off his meds about a month ago and had become increasingly paranoid and fixated. Apparently, things got really ugly at work when he started following his receptionist around town. But he was back on the horse, regulated and (best of all) NOT THE LEAST BIT ATTRACTED TO ME (no offense).

 No offense taken Bro-Dog! Never before had being dissed made me feel so blissed out! We sat there for a minute, just grinning at each other. For a second I actually thought, "You know, maybe we could be friends". But then I remembered that everything about him made my skin crawl. So I wished him a pleasant weekend and went back to my seat.

 

 

 

blood SWEAT and tears

10:30am

 

The last few weeks in New York have been a putrid, scorching armpit. Riding the train has been a sensorial overload, and I don't mean that in a good way. I'd never dreamed my nostrils would have to work so hard before 9 a.m. Oh the ripeness of my fellow man! I have a whole new resentment against the onion bagel eaters of the world. Thank you so much for excreting that out your pores two inches from my face! The worst thing about this particular heat wave is the level of dreadfulness it adds to my Claire errands. There's just no way to go outside for more than ten seconds without coming back looking revolting. Don't even get me started about my hair.

So, of course, Claire sent me out nearly every day. Today was particularly wonderful, as Claire is gathering everything she’ll need to go to the Vineyard for a wedding next weekend. She made me go to Eres and grab six bathing suits, so she could choose her favorite in the privacy of her office. An extra fun part was the look that the sales girl gave me when I, (drenched in sweat, hair a-frizz) asked for everything in a size 2. It was very delicious to have her give me the head to toe eye-raping, as her brain clearly registered; denial (my legs), denial (my butt), denial (my waist), denial (my boobs), denial (my brain), DENIAL!

A Smile Is Just A Frown Turned Upside Down - I Hope You Know!

6:02pm

I have found a silver lining to the big designer turd that is Jasper.  As much as she might torture me with her terrible attitude and insulting facial expressions - for Claire it is a virtual hell on earth.  In other words, as much as I may want to get rid of her, Claire wants it 10 times as bad.  I'm sure that she starts off each day with the best possible intentions.  Resolving that today is the day she'll strengthen her relationship with her daughter.  But by about 9:05 each morning, the dream has died, and she just wants Jasper out of her face.  So I ended up taking Jasper, “sourcing," per Claire's request. Translation; Jasper shopped for five hours as I trailed her, snapping the occasional "inspiration” Polaroid for the files.  If things keep going this way, there's a good chance that Jasper's internship will completely destroy my work ethic.

Her Ankles Are Ready for Madonna Daze at the Senior Center

9:02am

This is my second official installment of: Naomi Fashion Stake Out
As always, I shall start at the top and work down…

Black suit jacket - medium shiny, featuring shoulder pads.
Accessorized with a delightful silver tone TGIF pin.
Purple button-down shirt, extreme shine (lump enhancing).
Black Capri suit pants, medium shiny.
Purple fishnet knee-stockings.
Black ankle boots, half-inch heel.

Let's Learn a Lesson

3:10pm
Today was Jasper's first day interning.  And yes, for those of you paying attention, today is a Friday - not exactly a popular start date.  A series of inventive “ailments” kept her otherwise engaged for the first four days of the week.  You can bet your ass I'll be chanting it up in Zen Spin that her attendance remains this infrequent all summer.  Thank God it was only a half day (for her at least), I needed a training wheels run.  To be honest, I really can't complain because we (okay, I) spent the day watching lawsuit prevention videos from human resources instead of working.  I'm sure Claire had no clue that she was dragging Jasper in tooth and nail, for what really amounted to movie day.

The weasely H. R. guy set us up in one of the nicer corporate meeting rooms, handed me a stack of videos and left us in privacy. Jasper promptly curled up on a love seat and went to sleep. She didn't even pretend to play the game. So that's how it's gonna be…
I have to say, the videos were genius. Yep that's right. I watched ‘em, every last one.
Classics like - Don't Touch Your Coworker, Don't Be a Racist, Double Check for B.O. BEFORE Coming to Work…  Apparently, the company thinks grown people need to re-learn everything they were taught in junior high health class.  Hmmm… I couldn't agree more!  But I can't help wondering, what is the company's liability if one employee does subject another to pit stench?  Must explore.
After watching the videos, I resisted drawing a Sharpie mustache on Jasper's face and instead called Ali at her desk.  We shit talked until the clock ran out.  Until it was time to wake up Jasper so she wouldn't be late to the Hamptons. I can say with no exaggeration that today was a complete f’ off.  So in a single day, Jasper done brought me down.