Career Girl

All Hail Voice Mail

12:35pm

Claire’s new assistant has been calling an average of 8 times a day. Claire must be on her broom because I can hear (let’s just call her) Newblood fighting back the tears each time. She called to find out what the hell Claire was talking about when she asked for a “no calorie yummy”. She called because Claire told her to have 5 pairs of pants hemmed “the length I like.” I could go on. Most times, there wasn’t a lot I could do but listen sympathetically. Claire’s smart as hell - which means she freshens up the crazy quite frequently to keep us on our toes. But there are a few constants. She likes her snacks, ultra-specific, yet extremely hard to find (quite possibly imaginary). She likes things to look a certain way at all times - a certain way that she will never ever describe. Ahhhh, memories.

At first I was more than willing to help – glad my experience in the trenches could finally benefit somebody. But that feeling quickly went away and was replaced by that used feeling you get when you stay up all night listening to a girl complain about her boyfriend who happens to have a big ole juicy beer gut (think with-child), and who also happens to constantly criticize her body. And then the next day, when you are trying to keep your sleep-deprived head off the keyboard at work – she calls to tell you they just got engaged. Do you know that feeling?

PS: My apologies to everyone that  I haven't been putting in my usual funny links - this new position is kicking my ass! I can barely keep up the blog itself. I'll get back to it soon - I swear!

 

 

Our Hallmark Moment At Last!

3:15pm

Can’t believe it. Claire just took me out to lunch! I guess it was her formal “You’re moving up in the world, therefore I will treat you like a human/colleague for about an hour,” ritual. I must admit it was very, very awesome. She said I’d done a great job and that she respected my level of dedication. She said she knew I was going to be very successful within the company or wherever my career may take me. Trust me, it sounded way less canned in person. I was mildly uncomfortable (sincerity makes me squirmy) but to my surprise I had to fight to keep from welling up. When her spiel was finito, we relaxed and enjoyed our very expensive salads (hello, The Four Seasons - maybe you’ve heard of it?) and ventured into small talk land. The highpoint was when I asked how Jasper was doing and she (without thinking) rolled her eyes dramatically, though she quickly followed up with the official party line, “She’s great! This is such an exciting time in her life.”

Exciting? Yeah, I guess that’s accurate. I did see a few more pics of her in In Touch (or was it Star?) recently where she was cavorting in a bikini with a certain offspring of a certain geriatric star known for recycling his blonde wife for a younger(yet strangely identical) model every 5 years. They both looked like the worst Orange County Mcmansion trash that ever washed up bloated and stinking on a Malibu beach. How did all these smart, successful, (I’m not endorsing the word but) classy women spawn such rotten, spoiled demon teens?

Can You Creatively Pick Up My Dry Cleaning? Mmmmmmm. Thanks So Much!

6:45pm

Well so far, I’ve met with five girls vying for the Claire assistant job. It’s hard to shake out a distinguishing feature from the bunch. All seem smart, educated, and in complete denial about the opportunities that this position will offer. If I had a dollar for every time one of them said she was a “creative person” looking for a “creative job,” I’d have enough to get a weekly Pedi at Rescue. I desperately want to tell them each that the most creative thing they’ll be doing for the next year is finding new, inventive ways to talk themselves into getting out of bed each morning. Bur really - what would be the use? It’s unavoidable - jobs like this are the gatekeepers of the corporate world. Gotta do the time baby girls, ‘aint no way round.

Besides, the candidates came through HR and probably had the life sucked out of them in the process. It will take months on the job for a real personality to begin leaking out the cracks. But just as I was thinking I may have to do a straight up eeny-meeny-miny-moe, something happened. As one interviewee was heading toward the elevators to leave, Naomi blazed by in the other direction (in full Naomi splendor). The girl (let’s just call her Alice), thinking she was alone in the hallway, did a cartoony double take - and as her head turned to follow Naomi’s retreating lycra-draped badonkadonk, her face lit up with hysterical glee. But as her eyes continued to travel down the hall they met my own. Her face lost a bit of color when she saw me, realizing I’d caught her in an unguarded moment. We held each other’s gaze for a second, and despite my best attempt at a poker face I’m sure my eyes betrayed my true feelings (um… try complete understanding). She (in what I chose to interpret as sign of maturity) quickly bowed out of our little staring contest, and disappeared into the elevator banks.

Yessiree. I do believe we’ve got a contender.

 

 

The Questions…

9:08am

Member how I said I was going to have to sit in on the interviews for my replacement? Nope, turns out I’ll be conducting the interviews.

Claire wants me to interview all the candidates and then present her with my top five. This brings up an ethical issue: with what level of honesty should I approach these ladies?

Low:

How comfortable are you with multitasking? Do you have experience working with minimal direction? Are you able to hold your own when interacting with strong personalities?

Medium:

Do you love variety? Do you enjoy riddles, or decoding cryptic messages?

Would you describe yourself as sensitive?

High:

How many phones would you say you can comfortable hold at one time? How proficient are you at mind reading? If someone were to call you… oh… say, a lard ass – would that affect you in any way?

MooHooVin On Up…

2:55pm

I’m getting a mother effin promotion. That’s right, you heard me. And I don’t care if my celebratory dance makes you uncomfortable. Don’t rain on my bliss out. 

How fitting that on my hundredth entry I can finally say what I've been wanting to say every day for the past 12 months… I am finally getting promoted! Cue parade.

Yes indeedy. I will be moving over to join the sourcing team. I’ll still report to Claire, but now I’ll get to search for cool new materials and great design ideas, and then work with the team to create an overall library of fabric, leather, hardware etc. I’m dying!

BUT…before I get carried away with that… I’ll have to sit in on interviews for my poor replacement, and then spend a few weeks training whoever Claire ultimately picks. Oh joy! How do you ensure that someone be prepared to accurately read the mind of an extremely fashionable madwoman? How do I explain to her the importance of wearing skinny clothes year round - the magnitude of selecting the precise low calorie delicacy from the corner market (sans direction) - the fact that (no I’m not kidding) one too many frizzy-hair days might actually derail her career?

How do I warn her about Jasper? How do I prepare her for Naomi? How do I show her how to sneak out of the building for sample sales undetected? Wow. This will be truly bizarre. How much easier would it be if I could just show her this blog??

 

 

Naomi Raids Humpty Dumpty’s Closet Again

5:20pm

You know it’s really winter when Naomi brings the crusty/shiny stretch pants, that I love so very much, out of retirement. And what are stretch pants really, without a darling kitty-cat appliquéd sweatshirt? Ever since Claire resumed behaving like a see-you-next-Tuesday, Naomi has regressed to her old ways – taking each and every opportunity to pluck out a jaunty little tune upon my nerve strings. Every time Claire cranks up the ice queen, Naomi counters, by boosting her culty, can-do attitude to a new high. This, in turn, has caused my homicidal tendencies (fantasies) to spike. According to Naomi, every idea of Claire’s is “amazing,” and “completely doable!” even (especially) when they are clearly neither.

Claire: You know what I see for ’09? A nice Holstein print.

Naomi: Oh yes, completely chic.!

Claire: And I’m thinking we should revisit fanny packs.

Naomi: It’s like you are reading my mind!

Ok, so those are both teensie exaggerations. In actuality Claire has great taste. But still. Her ideas are often impossible to produce and Naomi makes it hard for anyone to actually say so when she’s all hopped up on ass-kiss fumes. I mean, when you’re in a meeting with four other people do YOU think it’s acceptable to give your boss standing ovations (complete with frenzied clapping) after every sentence? Yes it’s that subtle.

The Claire Affair (and it’s ripple effects)

11:00am

Things seem to have settled down in Claire land. And by that I mean – she’s back to being bitter full time, has returned to torturing me with humiliating tasks and is no longer exhibiting the zipp-edy-do-dah body language of a few months ago. Maybe her (never confirmed) affair with Mr. Copeland is no more. Not that I’m the moral arbiter of the universe or anything but I have to say I’m relieved. It was giving me an ulcer I tell you. But I digress.

Reports from Marina confirm that Copeland is putting the dick in dictator. Apparently he is being hideous to his first assistant – who then passes the nastiness on down the line. Marina, as you may recall, is third assistant. So her life is pretty much hell-in-a-box right now. I think I’ve told you how drop dead gorgeous she is right? Yesterday, assistant numero dos sidled up and asked if she’d ever considered smart-lipo. She was all, “I think it’s so cool how you don’t buy into the whole diet and exercise thing, but it might be a good idea to address your little issue for - you know, professional reasons.” Luckily, Marina had a brownie in her desk drawer that she quickly pulled out and shoved (in its entirety) into her mouth, while simultaneously flipping 2^nd banana the bird. Awesome rebuttal!

I tell you, I’m really growing to love her.

Hola Hades!

6:55pm

Claire is clearly punishing me for some unknown sin that I mindlessly committed in the recent past. And baby, it musta been ba-a-a-ad! She is making my life downright miserable lately! I only wish my atonement were four hundred Hail Marys or the like.

Alas, nope.

Instead, I had to fold my ego up into tiny pieces, stuff her into the bottom drawer of my filing cabinet and tell her to kindly keep her thoughts to herself while I stepped out to do a few errands. Even after I slammed that door shut I could hear her screaming “Quit, damn it! Quit right now. Ok, how bout right now? Or maybe now?” etc. etc…

An excerpt of today’s To Do list for your perusal

1. Go to Smythson and take a look at the personal stationery options. Describe the      best ones to Claire over the phone. Do not react as she declares all of my      suggestions “gross.”
2. Source some new and exciting snack foods with under 45 calories each, no sugar, no fake sugar, no dairy, no wheat, no dry ingredient of any kind and no water content. (I’m only lying about two of those things)

Isn’t that enough? No? Crap. Ok

3. Order a car to pick up Jasper at JFK where she may or may not get off a plane      she may or may not have bothered to board in Geneva. Speak to the (increasingly incensed) driver of said car every five minutes for a period of 6 hours until Jasper      magically materializes three flights later - rolling her eyes, snapping her gum (I imagine) and asking the driver if he has any weed (true!).
4. Talk to corporate appropriations about installing a bidet in Claire’s private bathroom. After watching something      on PBS about global warming, Claire decided that going toilet paper free (rather than SUV free I guess) is the least she can do. Apparently you can retrofit existing toilets with a device that leaves you squeaky clean and      Massengill fresh. Explain all of the above to an elderly schoolmarm/warden of a woman in the sub-basement as she glares at me and grimaces in disgust.
5. Take own life/Alt/Move home with mommy/Alt/Ben&Jerry’s + Bloke + Liquor + Possible screening of the inspirational film, Bring It On.

Humiliation, My Old Dear Friend

3:28pm

Today was one of those three-steps-back days at the ole office. No, I didn’t screw up or anything truly heinous. It’s just that I’d started to believe that those days of Claire sending me out on demeaning errand after demeaning errand were behind me. Alas, not so. This morning, Claire sent me to Duane Reade, in order to peruse their selection of panty liners. She asked if I wouldn’t mind popping open each box, removing a liner, and rubbing it against my cheek to compare for softness. Ok just kidding. But she did make me go all over the city, searching for a particular brand of goat yogurt recommended by the lady that administers her COLONICS!!!

I’d better be racking up the career-karma points for this shit.

I Guess Naked Pro Wrestlers Would Have Been Worse

 3:35pm

Two packages were delivered for Claire this morning, one from Agent Provocateur and one from Kiki De Montparnasse. Have I already told you that she's been working out like a maniac? She meets her trainer in Central Park every night after work. Is it me, or does it seem like she's blatantly advertising her affair? And furthermore, am I a co-conspirator simply because I'm picking up what she's laying down?

It’s possible that she honestly wants to get busted. Maybe she’s hoping Barry will find out and throw the hammer down as it were.

I'm always shocked by how many people are afraid to be the bad guy and just end it. Instead, they misbehave until the other person can't take it anymore. It's a major high school/college boyfriend move. I know this because, though I've never really been dumped, I’ve had countless boyfriends act like complete a-holes until I cut them loose with disgust. Ah… the fine art of hand forcing. One Ex hit on my cute little sister (OK more than one). Another began aggressively monitoring my eating, i.e. “CG, ask yourself, do I really NEED this M&M?.” But the worst passive-aggressive dump-tale I’ve ever heard comes from my childhood friend Tracy. Let me preface this by saying that at this point in history, any dude who doesn’t cover his porn tracks (especially if he has a live in girlfriend) is a complete and total imbecile who deserves a vicious, lifelong case of cerulean balls. Anyway, as you’ve probably guessed, Homie left a page open on his computer, featuring... (and here's where it gets uniquely fascinating) NAKED … MALE… LACROSSE… PLAYERS (as a bit of a cherry on top, his browsing history revealed 100+ such pages recently… um…perused). As you also probably guessed, this went down like a nun’s knickers, which is to say it did not. Tracy had movers at the door within hours.

I can’t begin to guess how Claire’s cards will play out. But you can bet I’m watching her like a hawk.