Office Archeology

As I sit at my desk I can't help but think that my office runs under the assumption that we're playing one big game of telephone. Our office has such a high turnover rate (if you're here for more than 2 years you are very senior) that the way we are organized is based on water-down versions of previous office incarnations. For example, we plan a day of briefings for our alumni based on an event we last had two years ago. The entire basis of who we invited, what rooms we reserved, what speakers we asked to brief, was based on the contents of a folder the previous office had made for us from 2003.

Today, my job was to create this folder. I'm sure part of the folder's contents will be lost in translation so that eventually, the event we had yesterday will no longer resemble anything that our organization hosts in the future. Instead of preparing a folder for people we don't know who will be holding our jobs, shouldn't the organization try to figure out why turnover is so high and maybe come up with a solution? If people felt like sticking around to make sure the job was well done for more than two years than maybe we could have a well-planned event that didn't feel like such a slipshod production. Just a suggestion.

It's better than making out to Ace of Base

Last night we were talking about songs we would want to have sex to. We came up with easy ones (ha) like "Let's Get it on" and "Sexual Healing" and the ones that we have already done it to ("Over the Hills and Far Away" has a guitar solo that's much too long) so I thought I'd throw it out to the group: what song have you had/wanted to have sex to?

Sobriety can be cool. Yes it can.

Since I stopped drinking (I only recently started again, but with much less fervor) I've noticed some very interesting characteristics of drunk people. We've all see the posters that say, "Beer: Helping ugly people have sex since 1856" or something to that effect. And it's true that alcohol is a social lubricant, but you don't have to be drinking to use it that way. If I'm the only sober or semi-sober person in a group of wasteds than I'm wasted too, as far as they know. Let's call it drunk by association or the alcohol version of secondhand smoke. You can act just as crazy and/or reckless as the drunk people if you want, or you can just taunt them mercilessly the next day because you'll remember their embarrassing antics and they won't. Hmmmm, I might have just found a way to sell the advantages of sobriety...

The uphill battle continues

If this blog had a theme, I guess it would be feminism. Disgust over an issue discussed in a history class was the impetus for the blog in the first place. In that vein, there was in article in the NYTimes yesterday that provoked all kinds of discussion among all of my friends. It was also the most emailed article of the day which meant that lots of people were talking about it.

It was about college women who are at elite schools who are planning now to either work part-time or not at all once they have children. They are planning this strategy so as to not fall into society's trap of "having it all" as our mothers fell into. To me, the basis of this article is problematic on many levels. The first and most glaring is that it's pretty easy to plan your future from the confines of your ivy league institution. I never claimed to know it all, (well, ok, I maybe I have but I'm recanting now) but I do know that college life vs. working life is very different. Like slap-in-the-face-that-was-not-at-all-what-I-was-expecting different. And remember, "having it all" includes having to pay all your bills.

Which leads me to my next point. These women assume that their partner will be able to support them, in the lifestyle to which they've become accustomed, with one income alone. This is not surprising considering I read it in the NYTimes, but it still leaves something to be desired. Why would you bust your ass for 18 years, get into a top college, maybe even go to law or business school, only to give it all up when your I-Banker husband knocks you up? What is that teaching your children, especially the girls? I am all for women having the choice of whether to work or raise kids (choice is the point of feminism), but wait until that time is upon you. Do not make any decisions now about someting that could be five, ten or fifteen years away. What if I held you to big decisions you made about your life when you were 14? That is, in effect, what these women are saying.

Seriously, talk to me in five years. Then I'll listen.

Emmy-rific

Ahh, the Emmys. They're like the Oscars' slightly jealous kid sister. Every year they try to convince themselves they are as glamorous and as important, but alas, they are not. That doesn't mean I don't love them anyway. Highlights of the night:

*The Desperate Housewives doing their best to look as chummy as humanly possible, God love 'em. I believe you girls, I really do, but please don't start singing kumbaya.
*Brad Garrett (who I don't really care about) dedicating his award to Britney and her baby. At least he knows what's important.
*Hugh Jackman. He's so dreamy and he always looks like he's having the best time. Give me whatever he's drinking.
*David Letterman's tribute to Johnny Carson. You could see that he was visibly moved when he was remembering his idol and mentor. I was 11 when Carson went off the air, but he always seemed to be well-respected and loved by everyone. Did anyone else notice there were no shots of Jay Leno during Letterman's whole speech? Hmmm...
*Jon Stewart's tribute to David Letterman. "It struck me, as I listened to you talk about Johnny is that the way you feel about him is the way that comics of my generation feel about you." Aww, ain't my boyfriend the greatest?
*Lauren Graham giving Jennifer Love Hewitt the evil eye when they were presenting together. The Academy was throwing Graham a sad bone for failing to nominate her for Gilmore Girls and they stuck her with little Ms. Everything-is-Perky. Gag.
*S. Epatha Merkerson. She really did not expect to win (Cynthia Nixon, Halle Berry, Debra Winger, hello?) and was visibly shaking when she went up there. And losing her speech in her cleavage? Hysterical, and I have definitely been there. I saw Lackawanna Blues and she was fantastic. She doesn't get enough love (or good material) on Law & Order.
*The tribute to the Big Three anchorman. Not having Peter Jennings there really gave it extra poignancy. It was also nice timing considering how adept television journalists have been lately at, well, actually doing there job. Extra points for showing my favorite shot of Peter Jennings ever: wearing a suit on top and a towel around his waist while reporting in Cairo. I'm going to miss him.
*In Memoriam. Everyone knows that this is my favorite part of any award show. I know it's morbid, but there is something moving and sweet about seeing these people's contributions.
*Felicity Huffman who gave the night's best acceptance speech. She gave shout-outs to David Mamet for casting her in his plays, Aaron Sorkin for casting her on Sports Night (watch that show if you haven't, btw) and Marc Cherry for Desperate Housewives. But she saved the best for last, "Thank you to William H. Macy for taking a chubby, 22 year-old girl with a bad perm and glasses into a cow patch and kissing her and making her your wife." I heart her and she did deserve to win more than the other Housewives.

And with that, a fond goodnight...

I'm back. Again. Twice.

If I'm writing again it's Bukspot's fault (see recommended reading). Nothing like the threat of having your blog be linked to someone else's to give you the kick in the pants you need to start writing again.

So another fall is upon us and I am terrified. Fall has always felt like a time of new beginnings even though most living things are dying and/or getting ready to hibernate. The problem is that I don't have a new beginning this year. Last year I was knee-deep in the election and had no time to think about what to eat for dinner, let alone what I was doing with my life. This year I have been contemplating and desperately trying to come up with a plan. I know that sometimes "the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry" and "that life is what happens when you're making other plans," but those platitudes aside, I at least need a direction. An inkling. An endgame, basically. But the truth is I don't.

I'm young enough that this shouldn't be the end of the world, and it's not, but I feel a little flighty. This is my second job and I don't even know if I can stick it out for a full year. Do I want to go back to grad school? Do I want to even continuing fundraising? I've been thinking a lot about Office Space recently. Ron Livingston's character says that if he didn't have to work for money he would do nothing with his time. That's kind of how I feel. I have no strong pull in any direction at this point, so I think I'd be down with doing nothing until I figure everything out. I also find myself fantasizing about winning the lottery and I know I'm way too young to be thinking like that.

Welcome back. Life's a bitch.