Category Archives: office

why my office is amazing

NEW CTO: What is this bullshit? This is bullshit!
ME: I’m so glad we have a straight talker in our office now.
NEW CTO: I’m sorry. I apologize. I know, the language, I know. Anyone offended, send me an anonymous email … and I’ll write back to say, “Go fuck yourself.”
CHIPPER McCHEERFUL: All this swearing makes me antsy, but only because I’m such a square.

Man, this is so much better than [the Very Important Talent Agency I worked at for a year]. People there were cursing all the time but it was more along the lines of, “You know that girl? Yeah, I’d fuck that girl. You think she’s pretty, or hot, or just attractive? Yeah, me too. Fuck. Yeah.”

Or, my favorite, overheard through a closed door: “No, Mom, fuck YOU.”

Also, two of the projects that I spearheaded for my current, less emotionally-abusive office are now online. Check out the .pdf that will entrance guidance counselors throughout this great land, whispering to them seductively about the glories of the site, and the Guide to Sinners and Saints 2008 which groups 42 colleges according to which deadly sins or heavenly virtues they represent. Also, it has llamas!

PS: This post was not about the election. Aren’t you impressed?

PPS: The election is less than 24 hours away and it actually looks like the good guys might prevail for once. WHAT WILL THAT BE LIKE? Will sunshine grow on trees and water gurgle with diamonds? Will I be able to eat chocolate again? Will my older brother, who was born on Tuesday, November 4th, 1980, finally be revenged for having had to share his birthday with the election of Ronald Reagan?

Day in the Office

Our managing editor heads out the door for a weekend in Boston.

Coworker #1: [sings softly] Don’t go to Boston …

The rest of us: [stare at him]

Coworker #1: Joni Mitchell, bitch!

The rest of us
: [keep staring, start laughing]

Coworker #1: Oh. Heh. It’s “Please come to Boston.”

Me: Um, the internets are saying it’s Dave Loggins: “ARTIST: Dave Loggins; TITLE: Please Come to Boston. Please come to Boston for the springtime …”

Coworker #1: Right! And then she goes, “I’m stayin’ here with some friends …”

Me: If by “she” you mean Dave Loggins.

Postcards from the Verge

Jonathan Dee’s NYT Magazine’s article “The Tell-All College Tour” came out this weekend, making half of my face famous, offering new evidence on the Who’s Bigger, Me or Katie Price question (don’t I look TINY in that picture down there in the corner?), and catapulting my fledgling company into the spotlight. Our internet traffic spiked on Friday as soon as the link appeared on the NYT website, and there was much whooping and sending it back and forth in the office.

The media attention guarantees nothing, of course, except that we now have a chance. And although we at one point hit #1 on the Most Emailed list, the Sunday loudmouths have crowded the top and bumped us down to #6. Just what you’d expect of the media elites.

Though I’m glad Jonathan Dee had a positive take on us, I have to say that I’m astonished by the utter lack of fact-checking that occurs over at Gray Lady HQ. You’d think the Paper of Record would take note of the following, wouldn’t you?:

  • there were initially 15 editors, not 20; now there are 13
  • we each were assigned 14 schools to cover, not 10
  • our office is on Park Avenue South, not Park Avenue, though I agree that the latter fits better into Dee’s narrative
  • there are only 20 of us in the entire office, not 26
  • my brother, the quoted “current Cornell student,” is, as he should be at 27, an alum

and so on. Also, I maintain that “the New Face of College Admissions” would have been a better title. But it’s churlish to complain. The buzz is beginning! Perhaps we are well on our way to becoming the next medium-sized thing.

My coworkers and I hooted over Dee’s dour-sounding note at the end of the piece:

It all might seem less suggestive if it weren’t for the fact that this whole “grass-roots movement” seems poised to make a lot of money — most of which seems destined to find its way to the usual suspects, none of whom are part of a grass-roots anything.

As someone who is yet to have made over $30K a year in New York City, I can only say, Amen, brother JDee. Amen.

Near misses

1) The just-escaped-from-Jurassic-Park-sized spider on the bathroom faucet. Mr. Ben, kill it!

2) Spider #1’s cousin, Spider #2, which was like Spider #1 only on HGH, on the living room curtain. Mr. Ben, kill it! I don’t care if you’re still in a towel. Are you crazy? This thing could eat me *and* my breakfast of Trader Joe’s yogurt and Kellogg’s 19s while you locate your pants. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease. Thank you.

3) The bird that shat two inches to the right of my lunch and three inches away from my lap, managing, miraculously, to hit nothing except table. Mr. Ben, kill it! Er, just kidding: vegetarian. Also, Mr. Ben is at work, and he probably doesn’t have a bow and arrow.

Birfday tomorrow! In honor of which I have enjoyed much delicious food all week, including an Eat Like Ester sundae bar at my office this afternoon consisting of lo-sugar soy ice cream, fresh fruit, & granola. My coworker, Chipper McCheerful, consulted my mother, who suggested that he “put candles in a banana and pour sugar-free chocolate syrup over it!”

CMcC also contacted my brother who’s studying for the bar and thus couldn’t contribute. But he replied anyway: “I will not forget your kindness to my family, when I am emperor.”

Marrying Mr. Ben apparently entitles me to birfday recognition from his family as well as mine. (This is Reason #32 to tie the knot. Reason #28 is the kitchen gadgets. Reason #12 is that you can leave the lights on when you do it because you no longer need to hide from God.) I walked home from the fancy-pants, totally yummy celebratory dinner last night with an huge potted orchid and a gift card to Anthropologie. Once birfday week is over, I am going to be waddling around town in some very high-end clothes. Look out, world!