Has anyone else noticed the dirth of newstype people who are now blogging? I mean like within the last month it seems like every news station reporter and newspaper writer now have one. And they’re all mentioning it constantly. Like, “For more on how XYZ felt after interviewing a woman with 100 pets in her one-room apartment, you can check out his blog at…”
I guess it’s just a little surprising that people who are supposed to keep up with, you know, NEWS, are just suddenly discovering this. I will grudgingly acknowledge that it may have taken their web site overlords some time to incorporate it into the respective sites, but dear lord, how old is the term “blog”? I know when I started writing online it was already a pretty common term (which can be referenced to your right—thank you very much—as June 2002).
Oh well. I went out to go to work this morning and found my driver side door inexplicably glued shut. With ice, mind you. Since my door frame stops where my window starts (ie there’s no metal frame around the upper half of the door) I’m guessing some rain got into the crevices and then proceeded to freeze to the glass.
Thankfully my passenger side door opened after some prying.
So it was about ten minutes of jumping back and forth from seat to seat in between scraping off the snow and ice. Halfway into work the dome light started flickering, which meant my door was ajar. Occasionally. So I drove for a few blocks with one hand on the wheel and the other trying to keep the door shut.
Gotta love Minnesota! It’s getting down to 5 degrees tonight and will be in the 40s by the weekend.
Anyway, when I finally got into work I heard, “There she is! We were just talking about you!”.
Which you really don’t want to hear an employer say when you walk in 20 minutes late.
Turns out he was worried that a conversation we had yesterday had made me decide to just randomly come in when I felt like it (we discussed me being more comfortable leaving early when I needed to do my own work). Which made me laugh.
So I’ve decided even though— okay, I hate using people’s names in here just because: privacy. I’m not sure I’d like to stumble across someone telling stories about me and using my name. But I hate having lengthy descriptive nicknames. So until I come up with something better, the bosses are Ms. B and Mr. B.
So I’ve decided that even though Ms. B and I look pretty much nothing alike, people confuse us. Like we blend into “Chick-Behind-the-Counter”. Just today, a woman started telling me a story that she was in the middle of. Because she’d started the story with Ms. B.
And I can’t believe what people share with us. Like personal shit that I really don’t think I’d want some random stranger to know who could openly mock and ridicule me.
Ms. B laughed and just said something like, “You’ve just got one of those faces that says you’re interested in their story. You might as well be pouring them a drink.”
I love Ms. B. And Mr. B.
I completely cracked up today when Ms. B asked if I watched much TV. Um… just a tad. Anyway, I have no clue if she brought it up because she noticed I had one of The OC soundtracks hanging around (I was looking for compilations to listen to since I’ve been lazy about bringing in my iPod) but she mentioned that she watches the show. Rock on! So now I’m going to bug her every Friday to see what she thought.
It’s not my favorite work person to discuss the show with (Heathrow will always hold that place in my heart) but it rules all the same.