I’m out with my friend that is a Browns fan and they won!
So I’m throwing back to yesterday. To my workout bag. Left on my desk
I’m out with my friend that is a Browns fan and they won!
So I’m throwing back to yesterday. To my workout bag. Left on my desk
Comments Off on #ThrowbackThursday
Posted in All Things Blogging
For those of you in a feed reader, I have moved locations. Don’t worry, the snark is coming with.
In fact, I’m FULL OF SNARK, which is where you can find me now! I finally moved over to my own domain at http://fullofsnark.com.
You’ll automatically be re-directed if you forget and go to kristabella.wordpress.com.
Edited to add: Because I’m super paranoid, I’m turning the automatic re-direct off for a little bit, to spread the news. To make sure this post shows up in the feed reader. Because I’m afraid my legions of 17 readers will leave and never find me and then I will be sad. And no one likes the girl who sits in the corner of the bar crying in her beer/wine/Jack & Coke.
So please update your feed readers since the feeds won’t re-direct. Or if they do, I have NO idea how to do that since my geekiness has its limits.
My new feed is here. Please come over and tell me what you think of the new digs!
Don’t forget to update your reader and links/blogroll! And tell your friends! I’m at fullofsnark.com now! And that’s just fun to say! It’s better than being full of something else!
And also, WordPress, and your new template? Where the fuck did you put the spell check button?
Bacon has been feeling a little neglected these days. He was all excited about his last entry, getting to answer people’s questions and then NOTHING. So since I have a lot more readers (a lot = 2), I figured it was time for a Bacon post. Especially since I get some of the greatest search terms. I’m just saying.
So for all you new people, please click here. This will give you all the information about Bacon, which is a folder that asks the eternal question “What Would Bacon Do?”. But please click back here because Bacon will be answering some random search terms from the last month. And well, he can be quite moody if people neglect his wishes and pay him no mind.
And also, I need to clarify, my cat’s name is not actually Bacon. But I might start calling him that.
Is wine good for toothache
Bacon isn’t sure who would search this. Bacon hears from Kristabella that wine is good for damn near everything, except cleaning the litter box. Cats don’t like wine. Weird. Bacon also thinks this person should “Liven Up A Salad” because if this person has to ask if wine is good for a toothache, this person clearly needs to imbibe more alcohol, let loose a little and get shitfaced so people don’t want to punch her in the face. Bacon also thinks Kristabella should stop using Google so much.
Um. Yeah. Bacon hates pulp. And his test for the pulp is by taking a sip of orange juice and getting a mouthful of pulpy crappiness. Which then just makes him angry because who the hell likes pulpy drinks? So Bacon says “Beckon” which means he wants the asshat who searched this to come hither so Bacon can smack the pulp right out of you.
How to lose a pregnant girlfriend
Bacon says “Ask Tom Brady.”
Lyle Lovett I am ugly
Bacon wonders two things about this search term. One, Bacon may be just be a piece of delicious meat, but can someone please explain to him why Lyle Lovett is so down on himself? Bacon knows Lyle is not a looker. So Bacon wants to tell Lyle to “Sizzle” because you need to embrace your ugly face and move on. And Bacon thinks maybe you should mention the fact you were with Julia Roberts. Mention it any chance you get.
And two, is this a new saying, like “boy howdy, am I ugly today!”? If not, Bacon is going to make it so. The next time you are having one of those bad hair days, one of those days when you wake up too early from tying one on the night before and realize your mascara is all over your chin, Bacon encourages you to talk out loud to the mirror in the public restroom at work and exclaim “Lyle Lovett, I am ugly!”
Bacon would like this person to know that Spinsterville Chicago is located right on Kristabella’s couch. Park hours are whatever time she drags her sorry ass out of bed until whatever time she drags her drunken ass back to bed. Price of admission is one bottle of red wine for adults and a bottle of white wine for children. Seniors 55 and older are free, as long as they don’t be having any of the wine. Bacon also says that you should “Tempt A Vegan” because everyone knows anyone who willingly becomes a vegan is clearly someone who will never be married. Meat. It’s What’s For Marrying.
What does flat tires mean in Spanish?
Flat tires is English you fucking moron, so it means nothing in Spanish. You better step back or Bacon will “Spit Hot Grease” on your stupid face. Ay Caramba!
What would you do for $20 boobs?
Bacon, being a man and a pork product, isn’t positive, but he’s pretty sure boobs cost more than $20. Otherwise every hooker and homeless person would be top-heavy and toppling over. Bacon is pretty sure anyone stupid enough to get their boobs done for the low, low price of $20 would “Shrivel.”
Breast augmentation flossing
Bacon doesn’t keep up with Kristabella’s blog unless he’s the main feature, but he’s starting to wonder if he’s missing out on a lot of booby talk. And now Bacon is really intrigued. Having never seen this procedure done or the after effects, Bacon wants to know what is being flossed. Or is this person thinking that once they get their boobs done they’ll have something to floss and they’ll meet a rich man who is a rapper that will buy them all sorts of bling for them to floss? Bacon thinks this person was creating the equation that breast augmentation will equal plenty of things to be flossin. To which Bacon says “Smoke” because new fun bags will definitely make you hot. Even $20 fun bags.
“minnesota accent” “cleveland”
Part of the reason Bacon hasn’t done one of these Google search posts in quite some time is because Bacon has an irrational aversion to stupid people. And stupid people all seem to come to Kristabella through the world’s dumbest Google searches. So listen up Idiot Searchers! Cleveland is in Ohio. That is all. Bacon has to calm down because he doesn’t want to “Raise Cholesterol.”
All new online dating pilow
OK, really? Stupid people of the world? Pillow has two Ls. And Google, being all wise that he is, he will TELL YOU when you misspell things in your search. So not only are you an idiot, you also defied Google, which is just a sin. So Bacon is going to “Boycott Tofu” where Tofu = stupid jackasses. And also, what does a pilow or a pillow have to do with online dating? How will that get you more dates? Bacon wants to know since Kristabella can’t answer him since she’s currently residing in Spinsterville Chicago.
On that note, Bacon and his salty, snarky ass are done here. We hope you have enjoyed his take on Google search terms and his wise, but honest answers. Bacon tells it like it is, but if he keeps up this salty attitude, he’ll have a date with a frying pan in the very near future.
Dudes, Jen Lancaster tagged me for a meme. And it is a meme I’ve done a few times before. Generally, unless it is NaBloPoMo, I don’t do a lot of memes. But when you’re tagged by Jen freaking Lancaster, you do as she says. If only for the increase in site traffic she has graciously given you from being linked on the front page of Jennsylvania.
So here goes. The rules:
1. Link back to the person who tagged you.
2. Post these rules on your blog.
3. Share six unimportant things about yourself.
4. Tag six random people at the end of your blog.
1. I had personalized license plates back when I was in college. The plates were ASU DVL2. The 2 is because it costs less when you have a number in your personalized plates and someone had 1. I was constantly in search of that person for years! I had to get rid of the plates when I changed in those IL plates for California ones after college. That and I totaled the car that they were on. But I do have one of the plates hanging on the wall above my doorway in my bedroom. Because I like my bedroom to be like a frat house, apparently.
2. I will not eat cake if there is fruit in it. Fruit does not belong in cake. Fruit belongs in pie and fruit salad, but cake is meant to be fruitless. Pudding, frosting, peanut butter? All fine, tasty excellent things to put in the middle layer of cake. Fruit? NOT GOOD. Ever.
3. I have really bad eyesight. I’ve had glasses since I was about 8 years old and I’d venture to say I’m legally blind. I can’t see anything without my contacts in or my glasses on. As bad as they are, I’m deathly afraid getting Lasik surgery done on my eyes. A lifetime of glasses and having to buy saline and stick my finger in my own eyes is not worth the risk of being blind. I fall enough as it is when I’m sober.
4. My alarm clock is set 10 minutes fast and my snooze is seven minutes long. The clock in my car is set 3-4 minutes fast. This is my way of making sure I do math every day. But I keep it easy enough so I don’t have to use my fingers.
5. Freshman year in college, I turned in the same paper in first-semester English 101 and again in second-semester English 102. In first semester, I had a professor who did not like my writing. I wrote a lovely research paper about how college football should have a playoff system for the National Championship. I got a B-. Because I was so proud of this paper, and all kinds of lazy, I turned in the same paper for the first assignment in my second semester class. It was a different teacher, but the same assignment. I got an A++. That professor was an ex-editor at a magazine, so I trusted her judgment more. And she encouraged me to submit my stories to magazines. I thank her immensely for the encouragement. Even if I didn’t get published.
6. I wash my hair every other day. I can usually only accomplish this in the winter when it is dry and when I don’t work out, which is almost always. It stemmed from laziness and oversleeping, but it turns out it is good for my hair and makes my color last longer, which means I can sleep longer, continue my lazy streak and save money. It is a win-win-win for me on all accounts.
I’m not tagging anyone, but you are required by Blogging Law to leave one unimportant/weird thing about yourself in the comments. I cannot be the only one to share. Plus, I’ve shared like 142 weird things about myself. I’m just asking for you to share ONE.
I actually meant to write this post on Monday, but since I have a tendency to forget things and get distracted by all things shiny and photos of hot baseball players with their shirts off, it slipped my mind. Which is actually surprising since not a day goes by when I don’t think about this time of my life last year.
It was a year ago today that I was officially fired because of my blog. When my world, as I knew it, was turned on its head.
For those of you who are new here, you can read the two-part story here and here of how it all went down. The bottom line is that I guessed the company’s new (STUPID) name, jokingly put it on my blog because of all its STUPIDNESS and when people searched for Slalom Consulting, when they found out the new (STUPID) name, I was the first hit on Google. Which was exciting for a hot second and then the whole firing took place and I couldn’t really be excited about my Google Page Rank status, now could I?
They had (STUPIDLY) decided not to make the new site live until the big party (which I ruined, by the way) later in the evening. So five locations of a company were TOLD the name, and being IT consultants, they Googled the new (STUPID) name. Enter Kristabella: Full of Snark. Top of page one. As Jen pointed out, I got fired because I was smarter than them. And that is why I love her. That and her love of trashy reality television.
I have moved on from that incident. I have grown and learned from it. For instance, I learned:
It is one year later and it still haunts me every day. I live in fear of being found out. While I really try not to blog about work, I worry that I’ll encounter another person who can’t get the fuck over themselves and take offense that I have a website. Where I say fuck a lot. And talk a lot about Bacon and sleeping with ugly celebrities and/or cartoons. It has changed me. And not it a good way.
I hate that I have this constant fear. Because I’ve done nothing wrong. This is my life outside of my job. And I shouldn’t be fearful that something like this could happen again. Because it really shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
I know. I fucked up last time. Had I read more Dooce and not just gazed at photos of her dogs and her baubles and fancy tea cups, I would have known DON’T BLOG ABOUT WORK! Especially don’t blog the new (STUPID) name, even if you think it is a big joke because who the hell names a consulting company with offices in Chicago after a skiing term? Besides stupid people? I like to think I’ve learned my lesson.
But my one mistake (in their eyes) shouldn’t make me worry. I HATE, like heat of a thousand suns HATE, the fact the jackass CEO at Slapdick Consulting has won. That until I let go of the fear that he created, he will always win and have a little piece of my soul. And as much as I tell myself I’m not fearful, it doesn’t stop my heart from racing and the bottom dropping out whenever I’m approached by a boss-type person about something I’m not expecting or told to come into their office.
I have to let it go. It happened. I ended up way better off, at a job I enjoy much more, where I get to do things that I enjoy and get to drink a lot more free alcohol. I can do that again, if I were to be faced with that again. I can bounce back. I am a survivor. Me and Beyonce.
Because I can’t let the asshats win. But I can turn Asshat CEO into an awful, awful character in my book. And that’s just as rewarding.
So has DINAO run its course? I’m thinking maybe we can go to monthly or every so often? It seems that we have had an overload of nasty thoughts of sleeping with the world’s most unattractive people and want nothing more to do with it.
And also? I’m running out of ideas. So feel free to suggest some ideas. I’m open to most anything. The nastier the better.
I also wanted to say thank you to all of you for all your comments regarding all my PAIN regarding my stupid tooth and listening to my whiney ass about the World’s Worst Dentist’s Office. I was out of it and didn’t have to time to reply to all your comments, but they made me feel better and made me not want to pierce my nipple to take away the pain. Although, I am pretty sure that would do the damn trick.
The tooth is much better. There is still some sensitivity, because there is still a root, but apparently this is common. I’m just itching for the day that I will be able to chew on that side of my mouth and not recoil in pain with a tear streaming down my cheek.
As for the dentist, I will be switching. I know it is best to switch now, but I really need this asshat to finish. And to be honest, as big of a douchebag as he is, it makes me happy that he is making sure that he finishes and does it right. He could be a bad dentist and just say fuck it and leave part of the nerve there. So there’s the fact that he does want to do a good job. Even if he does somehow blame me for something I can’t even control like drying out the root of my tooth below the GUMLINE!
I also want to apologize for being a bad, bad blogger. I haven’t had time or energy to read blogs and comment. So I’ve dropped off the face of the Earth with a lot of my blogging peeps. And I do sincerely feel bad. I think I need to just clear it all, mark it all read (dudes, I’m almost over 1000 NEW posts that I haven’t read) and start from scratch. But I do want to know what’s going on with all of you. And more importantly, I want you to know that I haven’t forgotten about you. And that I do want to read all your posts and know what’s going on and I don’t want you to leave me because you’re feeling the neglect. Because you comment here and I don’t give the love back.
Or maybe I just need to get the fuck over myself.
It’s Opening Day! Baseball season is officially here! Which means that maybe it will stop snowing and get above 40 degrees. And maybe I’ll be able to wear flip flops again sometime soon.
It also means it is completely acceptable to start drinking before noon and spend all day drinking Old Style and making out with cute boys in Wrigleyville.
Oh, who am I kidding? That is acceptable all the time.
In honor of Opening Day (Go Cubbies!) I present to you the Opening Day Death Is Not An Option. For any new folks, the idea is to vote for one of the two choices that you’d sleep with, and death is NOT an option. (Previous rounds can be found here.)
The Vomit in Your Mouth Edition
Randy Johnson vs. Rod Beck
The Announcer Edition
Peter Gammons vs. Harry Caray
The Manager Edition
Don Zimmer vs. Lou Pinella
The Both Are Just Ugly Edition
John Kruk vs. Gary Gaetti
The ‘Stache Edition
Dennis Eckersley vs. Jim Leyland
The Death Would Be An Option for Kristabella Edition
Derek Jeter vs. Alex Rodriguez
The Pitcher Edition
Barry Zito vs. Tim Hudson
The I Wouldn’t Kick Them Out of Bed Edition
Mark Mulder vs. Troy Glaus
The Yummilicious Edition
Joe Mauer vs. Pat Burrell
The Two of Kristabella’s Favorites Edition
Mark Grace vs. David Wright
A nice blend of nasty and yummy for a Monday morning! Leave your choices in the comments!
Today was Root Canal Day – Part 1.
Yeah, you read that right. Part one. Which means I have to go back. And I’m not talking about going back to get the crown made and put on. I’m talking I have to go back and have another partial root canal done. In two weeks. I must have pissed the dental gods off something awful with all my bad talk about Dentist McDouchey and just hating the dentist in general.
Let me just tell you why the dentists of the world have it in for me. First, let’s rewind to Wednesday afternoon. I get a call from the dentist’s office to tell me, frantically, that I have to come in at 9 instead of 9:30 so that the dude will have enough time to do the procedure of removing the nerve from my tooth.
So this morning, I bust my ass to get there before 9. Because I try to follow directions. So I get there about 8:57 and I walk in the front vestibule, turn to the office door and notice the lights are out. So I pull on the door and it is locked. There is NO ONE there. The people who frantically told me to be there RIGHT AT 9, were not even there themselves. As if I did not hate this dental office anymore, they wanted to throw one last log on the Hatred Fire.
About 9:15, some woman comes and half-heartedly apologizes for being late. I was on the phone with my mom at the time, and made damn sure I told my mom loudly how ridiculous this was and how angry I was. Just loud enough for the dental assistant lady to hear. And the people down the street.
Dentist McDouchey didn’t even make it there until after 9:30. Which, what the fuck? I could have slept an extra half hour. He numbs me up and gets going. I turned on my iPod right away and said as little as possible to him. Thankfully since he’s such a jerkface, he wasn’t saying much to begin with. Although, anything he did say, I didn’t understand because he’s foreign and has a heavy accent and mumbles.
It went fine. I didn’t feel anything after the Novocaine kicked in. It was just a lot of drilling, a lot of weird smells and some weird beeping. So he finishes up, puts the chair upright and all I hear is dentalwordsIdon’tknow solution dewifodwnvodsoi two weeks. And then he looks at me again and says “two weeks” and him and dental assistant lady walk out of the room. I just sat in the chair because WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING IN TWO WEEKS?
Thankfully dental assistant lady came back in so I was like “why do I have to come back in two weeks?” And she said, quite snottily I might add, which I won’t even point out that she kept me WAITING, “like he just told you, you have to come back in two weeks to finish.”
Me: Finish what?
Snotty Dental Bitch: He just TOLD you.
Me: I didn’t UNDERSTAND him.
Snotty Dental Bitch: Finish the root canal.
Me: Why didn’t he finish today?
SDB: Like he just said, you somehow have made it so that you, and only you, are responsible for having a dried out root and nerve. So because you suck and have dried out the inner recesses of your TOOTH, he has to do extra work to get the rest of it out.
Me: Um, OK, what?
SDB: He had to put solution in there and seal it up and hopefully it will soften the rest of the nerve up and hopefully you don’t fuck it up and dry it out again and then come back in two week to get it all out.
So not only did I got through a root canal, so I’m in immense pain, I also still have part of the nerve left so I still have the sensitivity. It’s like I won the devil’s lottery and get to live in hell with a space heater.
I was fine up until about 2 this afternoon. I ate lunch, took some Advil, but then it started to get unbearable. I got some Vicodin on Monday, but I was a little nervous about taking it at work because I’ve never taken it before. So I didn’t know how I’d react and I figured I could get through the day with tons of Advil.
I was wrong. I was almost crying by 3, after about 7 Advil. And I made it until about 4:30, mostly by continually slamming my hand in the desk drawer to take the pain elsewhere, before I asked to go home. I popped the Vicodin as soon as I walked in the door. And let me tell you, it isn’t helping.
Yep. It has been almost 4 hours since I took it and it ISN’T HELPING. I still feel like someone is hammering on my jaw all while squirting acid into the little piece of nerve left. My ear is starting to hurt as is my head. And all the Vicodin is doing is making me dizzy. Which let me tell you, is not teh awesome because it’s making me have a headache. I don’t know what Brett Favre was thinking getting addicted to this shit.
So I’m going to try and go to bed. With a bag of ice on my face. So I hope you’ll forgive me for no DINAO this week. But I have something special planned for Monday, since it is Opening Day. So next week will be a bonus DINAO week because I’ll try to have 2 rounds, sans cartoons.
And if you know any sacrificial offerings I can make to Denticus or the other dental gods, it would be much appreciated. (And if this makes no sense, the Vicodin does more than make me dizzy.)
Edited to add: Thanks for all the comments!
I took 4 Advil before I went to bed and slept with an ice pack on my face and it seemed to work. It is A LOT better today. But I’m sticking with Advil and not the Vicodin, unless it gets out of control.
And for all your suggestions to go see a new dentist, as much as I’d like to, since they’ve already started and have charged me out the nose for this, I don’t want to go somewhere else and get charged all over again and they have to finish it.
But BELIEVE YOU ME, once he’s finished, I’m off to a new dentist for the crown.
So tomorrow morning is the big day for my root canal. I’d like to tell you all I’m not freaked but that would be a lie. Or the beer talking.
(Yes, I went out drinking tonight, even though I’m sick AND I have a root canal tomorrow morning. Look, I can’t help it that everyone is leaving the company and I have going away parties every week! Me and beer is like a moth to a flame.)
I had my big freak out about the root canal back in December. When I SHOULD have had this procedure done. And instead the giant doucgebag dentist told me “nope, your bite is messed up.” Not listening to me when I said “I don’t think that would cause tooth sensitivity and PAIN. The PAIN! Do you hear me? PAIN!” To which he said “deal with it you tall bitch, and I don’t care about the pain, you can’t take that many pain pills.”
Sounds like a fun dude, right?
(I actually begged the chick at the dentist’s office Monday for anyone else. But apparently this guy is the only one who can do it. Without me shelling out tons of pesos to some sort of specialist. But I made it well know that the hate. I has it.)
That freak out had a lot to do with the woman who died like three days earlier while having a ROOT CANAL! And why do they call it a root canal anyway? Canal means water to me. And boats and cruise ships. And fruity cocktails that take away the PAIN!
I also was totally freaked out because I’ve had a root canal done before. Mind you it was like 20 years and I’m pretty sure technology and procedures have changed just a tad. Oh, for the love of God and all that is GOOD AND HOLY please let things have changed. Because the PAIN I experienced at my first root canal is a PAIN I hope to never experience again. Up until this past December and Dentist McDouchebag, my last root canal was the only time I ever cried at the dentist
I have a high threshold of pain. Clearly, since I’ve had a rotting tooth that needed a root canal since some time mid-2007. And I killed most of that pain with Advil. OK, maybe it was wine and Jack Daniels, but still. But when I was 10 and that dentist stuck a shot of Novocaine into my cavity, without numbing me up first, I saw stars and the room turned dark. I thought right then and there that God was punishing me for all the bad things I had done in my life and all the bad things I would do for the next 60 years. PAIN. Like no other, I tell you. And the tears, they just started a-flowing.
So naturally, I’m a little panicked about tomorrow morning. I’m pretty sure I can handle the pain. This tooth isn’t in as bad of shape as that other one was. And I plan to be totally hammered out of my ever-loving mind by the time I get in there. (I kid.) But I know I should be able to handle it. Only because some chick at work had a root canal two weeks ago and said “it’s not that bad.”
What I AM freaked out about is Dentist McDouchebag. My hatred of this person is off the charts. And for no other reason than he DIDN’T BELIEVE ME when I told him of the PAIN. And figured I was a pussy girl. That and when he told me I was overdosing on the pain meds, I asked “so am I supposed to just suffer in PAIN for two additional hours until I can take the pain meds again?” His answer? “Yes.”
Tell me you don’t want to fucking stick tiny needles full of acid under his toenails and make him listen to bad karaoke. Dude’s a fucking asshat.
I have this weird thing where I plan conversations out in my head sometimes. (Don’t judge the wackiness.) And I try and think of awesome responses to someone, in the off chance they ask me the question I had planned on them asking in the fake conversation in my head. So I can be witty and not stumble over my words and say things like “same to you, pal!” I’ve planned out that when this asshole asks me why I waited so long to get this fixed (you know he’s going to ask) I want to tell him that “I had to wait until the pain beat out my hatred for you.” Buuuurrrrrrn!
My mom doesn’t think this is a good idea because, well, he’s there to fix my tooth and best not to piss him off when he can do so much damage in my mouth and cause additional PAIN. Which will cost additional monies. That I do not have.
My thinking is that just because this guy is good at what he does (supposedly) I shouldn’t fawn all over him and be nice to him when he’s NOT NICE to me. Dude should know he’s being a jerk. And it will take every last ounce of will power to control my smart mouth and not make him aware of his douchebaggery.
I figure at the very least I can just bite him. And tell him it was an involuntary response to his asshattedness.
So Jen Lancaster updated the links on her blog and then told the loyal subjects of Jennsylvania to go read the blogs in her links. Which I am one of (there are no words to describe the excitement and pure, unadulterated joy and squeeeee-ness of it all!) And then they all came here and had to read about having sex with cartoon dogs and my sick, whiny ass.
I’m pretty sure those readers won’t be returning.
In case they do (oh hai new readers! I’m sometimes funny! And there’s Bacon here!), I shall attempt to write something better. Attempt being the key word. I’m still sick and my tooth is sore and Root Canal Day can’t get here fast enough. And I’d also like my nose to stop running so that I can re-grow the skin under my nose that the Kleenex has RUBBED OFF like sandpaper.
Anyway, so last week at work I had my review. It wasn’t my annual review since I’ve only been there 10 months, but it was my six-month review a few months late. Because right around the six-month mark, we decided to like fire almost everyone in the company. And then there was scrambling and more cuts and whatever, it’s four months too late.
It went really well. There were no surprises. They said a lot of good things. They mentioned things I should work on and issues I’ve had in the past that have been addressed and improved on. It was very nice for two people to sing my glorious praises for a good half hour. I mean, they are only human.
(Which is all a big damn lie because as big of an attention famewhore that I can be at times, it is very awkward to sit in a room with two people telling you all the good things you do and all I just did was sit there and let out a weak “thanks!” every now and then.)
I have had some very interesting reviews in my life. My boss at the Niners, who I am still friends with today, wasn’t always so good in that area of managing people. (His wife reads here (Hi Teri!) so I hope he doesn’t get offended. And just looks at it as constructive criticism. And when you send the mail bomb, please send it to my work address.)
So we had the yearly reviews at the Niners, like all companies. I haven’t mentioned it a lot on here, but I had some very difficult years at the Niners. I grew up working there. I spent most of my 20s working there. I had never worked in an office before (besides my father’s) so this was all new to me. And since I’m a little *ahem* outspoken, I had a lot to learn when it came to biting my tongue and playing the office politics game.
And let’s just say, I sucked at that game. I still kind of do. I might be better working from home where I have the lowest possibility of saying the wrong thing.
So a lot of my Niners reviews and one-on-one conversations with my boss were all about shutting my trap and learning from my erroneous ways and shedding a lot of tears. Mostly me. And guys don’t like it when girls cry in front of them. It’s too bad I cry when I burn my toast, so it doesn’t take much.
But the thing that happened every year when I would have my review is that I would get blindsided by something. There would be some thing, some issue that he would bring up that I wasn’t expecting. Some sort of fault or mistake I made that became a big deal. The problem was that most of these issues were OLD issues. Something I did months prior that wasn’t mentioned to me at the time, that became a weakness on my review. Written down and filed for ALL ETERNITY.
And it pissed me off. I know I’m not perfect. I’m pretty damn close, but I have my faults and things I have worked on. And if I ever worked for my old boss again, I think he’d be the first person to notice the changes I’ve made as I have grown up and matured in the workplace. So I never expect my review to be flawless. There is the “Things to Work On” section for a reason. No one is perfect.
But I prefer for issues to be addressed at the time they occur. So that I KNOW I did something wrong when I do it so that I can fix it and not do it again. Yes, it may take you a few times of telling me because I have very few brain cells left from all the alcohol I consume, but I will make all attempts to fix it. Again, attempt being the key word.
So when issues are brought up six months later, I get pissed because I’m not aware of this issue that more than likely I’ve completely forgotten about and also because I hate the unexpected. Julie Chen can kiss my ass because I will not expect the unexpected. No matter what her skinny, stupid ass says.
It has almost ruined me a bit. I go into every job review expecting something like this. I expect some issue to be brought up that I’m not expecting. I expect some problem to be brought up that I wasn’t even sure was a PROBLEM. And that is NOT NORMAL.
I actually mentioned this at my review last week because it was a refreshing change, this not being blindsided by something. And I wanted them to know that I appreciated them communicating issues with me as they arose. I am aware that I have things to work on and I’m better able to work on them when I know the problem when it happens. Again, the booze-related memory loss plays into this. And I appreciate that they have no problem telling me positive feedback when appropriate. They are good about handing out praise, so there really were NO shocks in my review. Everything said was something I had heard before.
And really, it never hurts to have people tell you over and over just how awesome you are. I for one never get tired of it.