sinking ship

Oh this is great. Today we received a tantalizing email which made everyone absolutely moist with excitement. It said “Check out this short clip for a fun perspective on the journey to our IT Strategy Map. This is the first in a three-part series.”
Now, as everyone knows, “fun” and “IT” go pretty much hand-in-hand, so it was no surprise when I clicked on the link which was entitled “teaser 1”. Who doesn’t like to be teased?! What unfolded was a really bad, barely animated cartoon which metaphorically compared our upcoming year to a voyage on a ship. Here is an actual screen capture.

Pretty brilliant, right? I mean, get it? Ship….journey….strategy….ok, now you’re on board. (Ooo! On board…ship…get that one too?) If you watch the American version of The Office you may have seen the Booze Cruise episode. From this we can deduce that the ship/work comparison must be valid.

I can hardly wait for the next two episodes of Our IT Strategy Map.

getting things done

I hate it when people have posters or little signs on their desk with inspirational or motivational quotes. The psychology is interesting. If you ever see someone who has the “7 Habits of Highly Successful People” bolstered to their wall, you should instantly smell a bullshitter. Do you think they have these things posted so that every day, they can look at them and re-affirm what they believe or how they work? No way. They are posted for all to see so that someone passing by will be really really impressed and think, “Oh my. A real go-getter must sit in this cube”. Well, I have created my own line of quotes for the business place - words that truly capture the essence of the great corporate American office. These are my tips and guidelines for success:

-Nothing says "I'm in control" like setting up another conference call.

-The best way to establish yourself as a leader is to know who to blame.

-The number of meetings in a given day is directly proportionate to the efficiency of a well-run organization.

-The best way for someone to learn is to criticize them, then let them try to figure out why.

-Nothing gives a clearer picture of progress than a colorful bar chart.

-The most effective use of meeting time is to print out a presentation, then read the slides out loud to everyone.

-He who speaks the most and the loudest must surely be the smartest.

-Coming in early holds no merit because no one sees you. Stay late every night and neglect your family if you really want to make an impact.

-If you can't think of your own ideas for methodology or inspiration, cover your cubicle with motivational quotes from people who are smarter than you.

-There is no time to think about the answers you give. Thinking indicates you don't really know.

-A snap decision may end up being the wrong one, but hey -- at least you looked confident.

-Nothing says "thanks for all you do" like a foam can cozy emblazoned with the corporate logo.

-The best way to assess one's work is to reduce it to a number.

-A video conference is the best way to allow colleagues across the country to watch you read a presentation.

-Anything...ANYTHING can be tracked in a spreadsheet.

-Ideally, your staff should spend a good portion of their day tracking what they do. Be sure also to have them track the time they spend tracking what they do.

- Use neat phrases like “reach out” instead of “contact”; “going forward” instead of “from now on”; or “issue” instead of “problem”.

what a dope

Oh great. Now Bode Miller chimes in and calls Lance a doper.
Shut yer wordhole, snowbitch.

http://sports.yahoo.com/olympics/torino2006/news?slug=ap-millersbreak&prov=ap&type=lgns

tell me about your childhood

It’s my fault. I chose this desk a year or so ago. You see, around here it is customary for everyone to reshuffle our locations at least annually so that our constantly “re-aligning” teams of minions can all sit in comforting proximity to one another. All of the analysts who perform tedious tasks should be lumped together in one row; executors of the mundane and menial all sit in another row. It’s a neat and efficient operation designed to enhance the communication between team members.

The last time this happened, I chose my own desk. It wasn't assigned. Since I am somewhat of a lone ranger and perform a unique function, it wasn’t imperative that I sit within spitting distance of anyone else. This cube seems bigger than the others because of the way it is laid out and it neatly accommodates my bike when I ride to work. There is one inherent problem with this cube: it sits right on the pathway that everyone must take at one time or another throughout the day. It’s an incessant parade. Actually, the parade isn’t so distracting because staring at a computer monitor all day long has destroyed the natural impulse for my eyes to follow motion.

If I were opportunistic, I would farm myself out to sociological studies and apply for grants, for if there was ever a watch post for monitoring behavior and attitudes in the workplace, this is it. People seem to take an odd interest in “what’s going on in Brian’s cube” and it strikes me as comical (sad?) that I might be a source of entertainment. I spend a good part of my day engaged in conversations with passersby who need a listening ear, a sounding board for their ideas, or an outlet for their rants. More than anything, they just feel sorry for me. I’m the guy with the stapler in Office Space. I’m the guy to whom everyone is cordial, but for whom they feel pity. “That poor bastard has had 5 managers in the past year!”
I’m a turd no one wants to put in their pocket and for that, I receive compassion.

Really, it’s enjoyable and without the visits, I would most likely slash my wrists or at the very least, staple my eyeballs. There’s the guy who comes up 5 or 6 times a day and flips me off & calls me “bitch”; the guy who makes fun of whatever I’m wearing; the gal who shares very much my same ideals and outlook; the nice guy who makes it a point to see how things are going with me; the smack talker who accuses me of stealing my paycheck on his way to go talk about football for the next 30 minutes……

….and then there are the bike conversations. When it’s cold and snowy and I don’t ride: “What – no bike today?!” Hardy har har, jackass. When I ride and my bike is propped up and gear is strewn all over my cube: “Why don’t you just buy a 2nd car?” Or “Did you ride in today?” Or six months after the fact, “Hey, I heard Lance retired – is it true?” I could go on all day about bikes though, so those conversations are always welcome. Especially around Tour time.

The best part about sitting here and being a part of all these conversations?
Blog fodder.

it beats an indoor trainer

Uttered probably 12 times in automobiles this morning: "Look at that nutjob! Riding a bike when it's only 23F outside!"

Uttered maybe once: "Wow. He must be really dedicated."

I need your help

Please, please, please click on the title of this entry and donate as generously as you are able. I'm doing my part to promote cancer awareness, advocacy, and survivorship. Your support in my efforts for the Lance Armstrong Foundation is most appreciated.

Thanks a million.

Osama is a big ol' softy

I mean.....what kind of terrorist makes a tape to tell you he's going to attack? A real terrorist strikes without warning, I would think.

nuts

Sweet justice. For all the times I have gone to the vending machine for some peanut M&Ms and the bag was left dangling from the poorly designed mechanism, and I had to dash back to my desk to get more change in order to get that bag and lose another $.70, or just eat the $.70 and leave it hanging there.........

Today was a victory. There it was. A defenseless bag of the multicolored treats barely hanging on with paper claws. I put in my coins. My palms got all sweaty and the thing is, I was really just buying them out of boredom. I wasn’t really even hungry. But all of the forces of goodness and all that is right came together and dropped not one, but two glorious bags of sugary, nutty goodness. I only ate one bag though, because eating the second would not only mean that fate would have me choke to death on one, but I would have to tack on another 10 hilly miles to my ride in the morning.

I'm buying a lottery ticket for sure tonight.

look

When I am in a building, looking up at the sky and see a plane, I sometimes wonder if someone in the plane is looking down seeing the building I'm in. And then I wonder if that person is looking down thinking, "I wonder if someone is looking up at this plane out their window."

So when I fly, I always look down at the buildings just in case someone is looking up wondering if I am looking down

medical play by play

Is it just me, or is there a bit of a morbid interest in Ariel Sharon’s minute-by-minute condition? After this latest stroke, it seemed like the media was completely on the edge of their collective seat just waiting, almost hoping for him to die so there would be this big world event.

Every hour brought headlines that were prickly with anticipation.
“Ooo! He’s not gonna make it!”
“His hours are numbered.”
“Not likely to recover.”
“His catheter bag is full.”
“He wiggled a finger.”

Jesus. Play by play is for football.

meet your wife on tv

Ok, I admit it. I watched the Bachelor last night. Take away my Man membership card. My wife and I told ourselves we were not going to watch it and get wrapped up in yet another, um, unscripted, raw, “reality” show. But really – there was nothing else on and you just know that we have to have the TV turned on. And hey – from a guy’s perspective, don’t you sort of get to live vicariously through the bachelor dude’s eyes? I mean, we get to see the 25 more-or-less attractive gals he has to choose from, after all.

Well, when you start looking closely, maybe half are fairly attractive on the surface. The others are really downright, well, not all that attractive when you look more closely. I know, I know, beauty is skin deep. But admit it – to a guy, there has to be a physical attraction on some level. Like it or not, guys have the whole visual stimulus bug and that’s that. The beauty that lies on the inside is a bonus. Pigs we are.

So there was the one gal who was doomed the minute she shook the bachelor’s hand. She was just creepy and the end result was hilarious. Most of the ladies were lighthearted and friendly, but not this gal. I believe her name was Allie and right out of the chutes she gets all serious on him. Poor bastard. He barely knows her name and she informs him that she wants to have his baby. EEEE EEEE EEEE! And then she thinks that because they both work in the medical field, the competition might just as well be over. Never mind the fact that she looks like a garden gnome, bachelor boy senses weirdness and is already planning for a security guard.

The time comes for him to hand out his limited allotment of roses for the chicas he wants to get to know, and the rest are sent packing like sorority girls doing the walk of shame on Saturday morning. With each rose handed out, the camera focuses on this Allie chick. She feigns a smile but it is wrought with bitter tension. She knows she’s going down, but she tries not to show it yet, for to do so would definitely end any remote hope of advancing. Another rose, and another. None for her. She is ready to burst. Finally, the last rose…..BUT NOT FOR YOU!! Destroyed, she stomps outside to commiserate with the other losers and even they appear to be not so bad next to her. She looks utterly evil as she begins her tirade of “he’s just like all the other guys….I have tried internet dating, dating services, set ups from friends…nothing works!” Oh, I’m sure it has nothing to do with you, Allie.

Then, the best part. She gets that insane and over-dramatic “you gotta fight for what you want” thing boiling and she stomps back into the mansion, grabs the bachelor and makes a total ass of herself as if he might say “wow, you really are determined…you must be the love of my life”. Again he tries to explain very nicely that “Allie, you’re way too psycho for me and if you want babies, you’re gonna have to go find someone else to stick it to you”.

The tragedy is that she’s now off the show, and the grueling hilarity that further incidents might have spawned will now be missed. I can hardly wait until next week.

words from Chef

Sitting here with a piece of chocolate in my mouth reminded me of a favorite South Park episode. A few lyrics from Chef:

Say everybody have you seen my balls they're big and salty and brown. If you ever need a quick pick me up, just stick my balls in your mouth. Oh! Suck on my chocolate salty balls, put 'em in your mouth and suck 'em.

Man, that's funny stuff.

breakfast of champions

For quite some time, one of the few tiny perks at this office has been a nice hot breakfast supplied to us the first Friday of every month. Usually, it would be pancakes or eggs, biscuits & gravy. On the really lucky days we'd get breakfast burritos or breakfast sandwiches.

Oh sure, the pancakes were rubbery, and the syrup was fake; the biscuits & gravy were utterly flavorless but it was something to look forward to even if the end result was a little disappointing. Sometimes, they would be out of regular fake syrup and supply us with sugar-free NutraSweet fake syrup. Or sometimes these fly-by-night caterers would forget to bring breakfast entirely, so they would throw some dried out danish and stale bagel halves into a basket at the last minute and call it good. But it was the idea that dammit, our management team cared enough to do something nice for us.

So this morning, I get up, pack my lunch, climb on my bike, and say to myself "Sweet! I'm starving and we get hot breakfast today!" Nothing could sound so good after a 40 degree bike ride.

I get to work, and there is nothing. No warming pans.....no breakfast. Maybe they're late. Still starving, I opened a packet of oatmeal I had in my desk: I can always eat the hot breakfast too since I'm so hungry. 8:30 and still nothing. Come to find out through the ever efficient rumor mill, they're not providing us with breakfast now, effective January 1.

It sure as hell would have been nice to know that ahead of time, you bastards. Maybe I could have stopped someplace and grabbed a bagel on the way in, but no – why would I possibly suspect that you jackasses might pull the rug out from under us without warning? That would be silly now, wouldn't it?

But of course, it’s really my fault. I should know better than to trust anyone in corporate America to be trustworthy, consistent, and efficient in communication. You know? I shouldn't be bitching. At least we are fortunate enough to be graciously rewarded with the privilege of wearing jeans on Fridays.