My coworker G is the best person ever. Today I walked into work and there was a package on my desk. Which is nothing unusual, we occasionally give each other stupid presents. The last time I got a package like that it was a box of yuri manga, as payback for my "computer virus" stunt. I promptly chucked it at R's head, since he was the one behind it. So I was expecting something stupid, like more manga I didn't want, or panties with HTML code on them again (I'm looking at you, G, and D, even though you don't work here- it was still your idea!)
But today was different. G knows I have been looking for the Johnny the Homicidal Maniac comic books for a while, and HE FREAKING BOUGHT THEM FOR ME. Do you know how epic that is? Seriously dude, if there's anything you want I'll do everything in my power to get it for you, even if that means going to the moon and bringing you back a moon rock or something.
And even sweeter than that is the fact that the whole reason he got me the present was because he knows how difficult May is for me. G, you're amazing, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. And if they do, then they'll have to answer to me!
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Cinco de Mayo
Today, being Cinco de Mayo, meant two things at work. One, it was Comedy Sombrero Time, and two, CHIPOTLE FOR LUNCH!
About ten years ago, my boss went to Cozumel with his wife for their honeymoon, and while he was there, he bought a gigantic sombrero for the heck of it. It's about five feet wide, although it's got a normal sized place for your head. So today, it was Comedy Sombrero Time. We had a rock-paper-scissors tournament to see who had to wear it all day, and not surprisingly I lost. So I had to go about my work wearing a giant hat on my head, and trust me, it's a lot harder than it looks. The damn thing weighs about five pounds, which doesn't seem like much, until you put it on your head. Then it starts to feel like it's 5000 pounds. And I also learned the hard way- the hat does not fit under the desk, especially if you're wearing it.
But I accepted my defeat and wore that sombrero with pride. After all, come Halloween we all have to wear costumes to work, and invariably G ends up looking like a fool since he waits until the last minute to get his costume. So I accept my sombrero fate, knowing that this October we might have a reenactment of Toilet Paper Mummy.
But enough about the hat. Today, the boss got us all Chipotle for lunch, and we didn't have to pay a thing. He's so nice when does things like that... he technically doesn't have to give us anything except our paychecks, but he was kind enough to get us a special lunch today. Mr. Boss, I <3 you in a platonic manner.
About ten years ago, my boss went to Cozumel with his wife for their honeymoon, and while he was there, he bought a gigantic sombrero for the heck of it. It's about five feet wide, although it's got a normal sized place for your head. So today, it was Comedy Sombrero Time. We had a rock-paper-scissors tournament to see who had to wear it all day, and not surprisingly I lost. So I had to go about my work wearing a giant hat on my head, and trust me, it's a lot harder than it looks. The damn thing weighs about five pounds, which doesn't seem like much, until you put it on your head. Then it starts to feel like it's 5000 pounds. And I also learned the hard way- the hat does not fit under the desk, especially if you're wearing it.
But I accepted my defeat and wore that sombrero with pride. After all, come Halloween we all have to wear costumes to work, and invariably G ends up looking like a fool since he waits until the last minute to get his costume. So I accept my sombrero fate, knowing that this October we might have a reenactment of Toilet Paper Mummy.
But enough about the hat. Today, the boss got us all Chipotle for lunch, and we didn't have to pay a thing. He's so nice when does things like that... he technically doesn't have to give us anything except our paychecks, but he was kind enough to get us a special lunch today. Mr. Boss, I <3 you in a platonic manner.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Dear Senelė
It's hard to believe that just eight years ago you were still with me.
Today I felt like you were with me again, beside me as I cleaned up your grave site. I could practically hear you talking to me again, telling me what to do to fix my appearance and how to do my job, even though you didn't know a thing about computers back in 2002, when you passed. I could hear you telling me to look after my dad, make sure he eats right and doesn't work too hard.
Well, even so, there's a lot you've missed in the past year. I turned 24. Believe it or not, Senelė, the sickly little girl you used to look after is officially in adulthood. Yeah, shocker. Even I'm surprised I made it this far. Our clan doesn't exactly have the best track record when it comes to health, either mental or physical. But I haven't shot myself, and I haven't contracted any deadly diseases, so as far as I'm concerned I'm doing pretty damn well.
Last summer it seemed like every single celebrity passed away. Not that you'd care, you only watched the television for the news and South Park, which you'll be pleased to know is still on.
I'm doing well financially, even though the economy still sucks. My coworkers are doing extremely well, and we're even goofier than we were last year now. Our workload has increased so much, though, that we're looking for a fourth person to add to our loony bin of computers. You'd like it there, we're always looking for a laugh. I'm not sure if you'd be pleased about this, or want to whack me with a broom again, but I still haven't lost my fondness for playing pranks on people. I still mess with my coworkers, and they get me right back.
You'll also be happy to know that I have continued your tradition of playing the lottery once a month, and last year in December won $200. It's not anything major, but I thought it might make you happy to know that the child you raised hasn't departed from her upbringing.
Dad is doing well. He and his friends have missed the midlife crisis stage, and now they're the funniest 40somethings I've ever met in my life. Seriously, at that age most guys are moping around and trying to buy a Ferrari. Dad and company just go to the pub once a week and complain about things.
I could go on, but you've probably got better things to do in the Great Beyond than listen to me ramble on and on. So here's to another year, where hopefully you will watch over me.
Love,
Simona
Today I felt like you were with me again, beside me as I cleaned up your grave site. I could practically hear you talking to me again, telling me what to do to fix my appearance and how to do my job, even though you didn't know a thing about computers back in 2002, when you passed. I could hear you telling me to look after my dad, make sure he eats right and doesn't work too hard.
Well, even so, there's a lot you've missed in the past year. I turned 24. Believe it or not, Senelė, the sickly little girl you used to look after is officially in adulthood. Yeah, shocker. Even I'm surprised I made it this far. Our clan doesn't exactly have the best track record when it comes to health, either mental or physical. But I haven't shot myself, and I haven't contracted any deadly diseases, so as far as I'm concerned I'm doing pretty damn well.
Last summer it seemed like every single celebrity passed away. Not that you'd care, you only watched the television for the news and South Park, which you'll be pleased to know is still on.
I'm doing well financially, even though the economy still sucks. My coworkers are doing extremely well, and we're even goofier than we were last year now. Our workload has increased so much, though, that we're looking for a fourth person to add to our loony bin of computers. You'd like it there, we're always looking for a laugh. I'm not sure if you'd be pleased about this, or want to whack me with a broom again, but I still haven't lost my fondness for playing pranks on people. I still mess with my coworkers, and they get me right back.
You'll also be happy to know that I have continued your tradition of playing the lottery once a month, and last year in December won $200. It's not anything major, but I thought it might make you happy to know that the child you raised hasn't departed from her upbringing.
Dad is doing well. He and his friends have missed the midlife crisis stage, and now they're the funniest 40somethings I've ever met in my life. Seriously, at that age most guys are moping around and trying to buy a Ferrari. Dad and company just go to the pub once a week and complain about things.
I could go on, but you've probably got better things to do in the Great Beyond than listen to me ramble on and on. So here's to another year, where hopefully you will watch over me.
Love,
Simona
Friday, April 30, 2010
April 30th
Twenty-seven years ago today, two young people were married. At the time, they didn't know that they were making the biggest mistake of their lives. This seemingly harmless action resulted in three years of awkward arrangements, a child, and eventually a suicide.
But at the time, neither of them knew what the future would hold. They were just happy to be together, finally finalizing the love they felt for each other. Once they were married, they went on their honeymoon to Tahiti, not realizing that the fun, traditional trip to a tropical location was the beginning of the end. How could they, when they were so happy to be together?
It wasn't as though they fought, no it was the opposite. They got along so well that they should have seen the warning signs. No one can possibly be that happy together, not without making some sacrifices. While they were on their holiday, they spent money and spent so much time together that it's a miracle that they didn't burn out. They planned out their entire life while they were there- in a year they would have their first child and the woman would quit working, hopefully before too long they would have a second child, they would eventually move out of the depressing inner-city apartment they lived in and would get a nice house somewhere in the suburbs. In a few years, when the children were in middle school, the woman would go back to work and they would save money to put their kids through university.
Unfortunately, real life doesn't work out that way. The woman's grandmother needed someone to care for her, so she moved in with the couple, which put a bit of a strain on their relationship. Two years after they were married, the woman had an extremely difficult pregnancy resulting in a rather unhealthy baby- a little girl. She quit her job to take care of the child and her grandmother- both needed a lot of medical appointments. Slowly, her mental stamina started to wither away, until two years after she bore her sickly daughter, she shot herself.
In case you haven't figured it out now, the young man and woman were my parents. And in case you're particularly dim, the baby was me. Today would have been their 27th wedding anniversary, if my mother was still alive. It's a difficult day for me, especially because in three days is the anniversary of my great-grandmother's death. Usually today passes by unmarked, except for maybe getting some hugs and extra snacks from my coworkers, who know how painful this week is for me. Today, though, my dad called. Which isn't particularly unusual- he calls me a couple of times a month. But today he called me, just wanting to hear that I was doing well. It made me sad, to be quite honest. I wish my dad didn't have to feel this way every year.
Anyway, that's why I haven't been posting much lately. I've just been thinking a lot, about what happened, and how things might be different if my mom hadn't died. On Sunday I am going to visit my great-grandmother's grave and tidy it, which I do every year on the anniversary of her death and her birthday. I tidy my mother's on Mother's Day and the anniversary of her death.
But at the time, neither of them knew what the future would hold. They were just happy to be together, finally finalizing the love they felt for each other. Once they were married, they went on their honeymoon to Tahiti, not realizing that the fun, traditional trip to a tropical location was the beginning of the end. How could they, when they were so happy to be together?
It wasn't as though they fought, no it was the opposite. They got along so well that they should have seen the warning signs. No one can possibly be that happy together, not without making some sacrifices. While they were on their holiday, they spent money and spent so much time together that it's a miracle that they didn't burn out. They planned out their entire life while they were there- in a year they would have their first child and the woman would quit working, hopefully before too long they would have a second child, they would eventually move out of the depressing inner-city apartment they lived in and would get a nice house somewhere in the suburbs. In a few years, when the children were in middle school, the woman would go back to work and they would save money to put their kids through university.
Unfortunately, real life doesn't work out that way. The woman's grandmother needed someone to care for her, so she moved in with the couple, which put a bit of a strain on their relationship. Two years after they were married, the woman had an extremely difficult pregnancy resulting in a rather unhealthy baby- a little girl. She quit her job to take care of the child and her grandmother- both needed a lot of medical appointments. Slowly, her mental stamina started to wither away, until two years after she bore her sickly daughter, she shot herself.
In case you haven't figured it out now, the young man and woman were my parents. And in case you're particularly dim, the baby was me. Today would have been their 27th wedding anniversary, if my mother was still alive. It's a difficult day for me, especially because in three days is the anniversary of my great-grandmother's death. Usually today passes by unmarked, except for maybe getting some hugs and extra snacks from my coworkers, who know how painful this week is for me. Today, though, my dad called. Which isn't particularly unusual- he calls me a couple of times a month. But today he called me, just wanting to hear that I was doing well. It made me sad, to be quite honest. I wish my dad didn't have to feel this way every year.
Anyway, that's why I haven't been posting much lately. I've just been thinking a lot, about what happened, and how things might be different if my mom hadn't died. On Sunday I am going to visit my great-grandmother's grave and tidy it, which I do every year on the anniversary of her death and her birthday. I tidy my mother's on Mother's Day and the anniversary of her death.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Mormons!
Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I got visited by some Mormons. I had just gotten home from work and was getting ready to relax with a nice plate of delicious kebabs and a can of ginger ale and watch a movie when the doorbell rang. I opened the door, and on my doorstep were two young men who looked like they were going to a job interview. But that was stupid, because who goes to a job interview at 7:00 on Saturday night?
Anyway, at first I thought they were looking for the downstairs neighbor, who occasionally has fancy-dress parties, so I told them they wanted to go the next floor down. They looked really confused, and then told me that they were on their mission, and wondered if I had a few minutes to talk to them about religion?
I'm not a rude person, so I said OK. They first asked me if I went to a church on a regular basis. No, I haven't gone to church since I was very young (before my mother died), except for funerals and weddings. They asked me what I did for a living, and I told them. Then they started talking to me about how finding religion could fill the void in my life with something productive.
We ended up talking for about ten more minutes, and then they went on to the next neighbor. It made me think a bit, though. Do I really seem so miserable that people who meet me for the first time think I need to do something? Admittedly I probably did look like I just crawled out of a basement (when I'm relaxing I wear crap clothes), and it had been a hard day at work, so I probably looked like I'd just gotten out of a fight, but really? I know I'm depressed, and rather depressing to be around, but if two guys who I've never seen before in my life think I'd be better off if I took on their religion can see it, then maybe I should try to be less depressed?
Just something else for me to think about, I guess.
Anyway, at first I thought they were looking for the downstairs neighbor, who occasionally has fancy-dress parties, so I told them they wanted to go the next floor down. They looked really confused, and then told me that they were on their mission, and wondered if I had a few minutes to talk to them about religion?
I'm not a rude person, so I said OK. They first asked me if I went to a church on a regular basis. No, I haven't gone to church since I was very young (before my mother died), except for funerals and weddings. They asked me what I did for a living, and I told them. Then they started talking to me about how finding religion could fill the void in my life with something productive.
We ended up talking for about ten more minutes, and then they went on to the next neighbor. It made me think a bit, though. Do I really seem so miserable that people who meet me for the first time think I need to do something? Admittedly I probably did look like I just crawled out of a basement (when I'm relaxing I wear crap clothes), and it had been a hard day at work, so I probably looked like I'd just gotten out of a fight, but really? I know I'm depressed, and rather depressing to be around, but if two guys who I've never seen before in my life think I'd be better off if I took on their religion can see it, then maybe I should try to be less depressed?
Just something else for me to think about, I guess.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
The Name Zetsubou
My Internet name is a constant source of mystery to some. What does it mean? What language is it in? Why did you choose it? I'm going to answer those questions in this post.
Zetsubou, or 絶望, is Japanese for “despair.” I am not Japanese. If I was going to use my ancestral languages for my name, I would be “Neviltis” (Lithuanian, father's side), or “ochtayanie” (отчаяние – Russian, mother's side).
I chose the name Zetsubou because within my lifetime, I have had to work extremely hard to overcome a variety of circumstances, and I spent most of my teenage years in despair. My mom was dead, my great-grandmother, the woman who raised me, was dead by the time I was 14 years old, my dad worked all the time, and I didn't have many friends. I was “that creepy girl in the back of the classroom.”
So most of my life, I've been alone. I developed a bit of a warped personality because of it, but I promise that I'm usually a good person. I'm not going to bite you if you talk to me, and if I like you, I'm pretty friendly. I have a well-paying job, and I've grown comfortable in my own skin. But occasionally, that old despair creeps in, and on those days, it's almost impossible to get out of bed. I've been told by doctors that I have dysthymic disorder, but I don't really care what it's called. All I know is that it's difficult for me to function on days that I feel that way. It's gotten better since I got a job, and I have to say that I'm quite grateful to my boss and coworkers for making every day a lot more fun.
I call myself "Despair" not so much because I am in it constantly, but because I do not want to forget my roots, where I came from, and what motivated me to become what I am today. If it hadn't been for those times where I felt lonely and empty, I might never have been motivated to become what I am today.
Zetsubou, or 絶望, is Japanese for “despair.” I am not Japanese. If I was going to use my ancestral languages for my name, I would be “Neviltis” (Lithuanian, father's side), or “ochtayanie” (отчаяние – Russian, mother's side).
I chose the name Zetsubou because within my lifetime, I have had to work extremely hard to overcome a variety of circumstances, and I spent most of my teenage years in despair. My mom was dead, my great-grandmother, the woman who raised me, was dead by the time I was 14 years old, my dad worked all the time, and I didn't have many friends. I was “that creepy girl in the back of the classroom.”
So most of my life, I've been alone. I developed a bit of a warped personality because of it, but I promise that I'm usually a good person. I'm not going to bite you if you talk to me, and if I like you, I'm pretty friendly. I have a well-paying job, and I've grown comfortable in my own skin. But occasionally, that old despair creeps in, and on those days, it's almost impossible to get out of bed. I've been told by doctors that I have dysthymic disorder, but I don't really care what it's called. All I know is that it's difficult for me to function on days that I feel that way. It's gotten better since I got a job, and I have to say that I'm quite grateful to my boss and coworkers for making every day a lot more fun.
I call myself "Despair" not so much because I am in it constantly, but because I do not want to forget my roots, where I came from, and what motivated me to become what I am today. If it hadn't been for those times where I felt lonely and empty, I might never have been motivated to become what I am today.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
How To Traumatize Your (Straight Male) Coworkers
1.Find computer with several gigabytes of yaoi on it.
2.Tell coworker, “hey, I've never seen a virus like this one before- have you?”
3.????
4.PROFIT!
Oh my god, I don't think I've ever laughed that much in my life. I guess I should start from the beginning. Today a college girl came in and asked me to de-virus her computer, but she was very insistent that I be the one to do it. She didn't want G to touch it at all. I thought maybe she had embarrassing images of herself that she had taken for a boyfriend or something, so I agreed and told her to pick it up in an hour and a half. She left, and I got to work.
While I was scanning for viruses, I found her, uh, “special time collection.”For those of you who don't know what yaoi is, it's basically pornographic drawings/animations of gay males. Now I've seen a lot of it in my life (you see a lot of crazy stuff in my line of work), and I've become inured to this type of stuff. Seriously, you just stop caring after a while, and it becomes more of, “Oh, another sick fuck with horse porn on his PC... well, better switch out the network card.” But today, I was in a particularly lulzy mood and can stomach yaoi pretty easily (some of it is quite well drawn), so I decided to torture G.
Z: Hey, G, this is a really weird virus. I've never seen anything like it.
G: Are you sure it's a virus?
Z: Pretty sure. Can you take a look?
*G comes over to see what I was talking about and gets an eyeful*
G: ZETSUBOU, YOU BITCH!
Z: *laughs hysterically*
G: You bitch! You're horrible! How do you sleep at night, knowing you're more corrupted than a bad batch file? (Yes, he seriously said this. He likes to make bad computer references)
Z: *laughs even harder*
At this point, R came back from his lunch break and saw what was going on. It was probably a bit bizarre to be honest- at this point I was practically falling out of the chair from laughing so hard, and G's face had started to look a bit like a tomato from embarrassment. So he decides to check it out too, resulting in more lulz.
R: Zetsubou, what the hell is going on? Are you alright?
Z: Ahahahahahahaha... computer...virus.... WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
R: Computer virus? Since when do you think computer viruses are funny?
Z: hehehe, take a look and see! It's really great!
G: For god's sake R, don't do it!
R: *ignores G and looks at the screen* You're terrible, Zetsubou.
He just shook his head and walked away, resulting in me laughing even harder. Eventually we got the viruses off.
...I'm a terrible person. And I love it!
to G and R- love you guys, and sorry. Oh well, you'll get over it, and I'll send you guys some extra-strength brain bleach (read: vodka) on Saturday.
2.Tell coworker, “hey, I've never seen a virus like this one before- have you?”
3.????
4.PROFIT!
Oh my god, I don't think I've ever laughed that much in my life. I guess I should start from the beginning. Today a college girl came in and asked me to de-virus her computer, but she was very insistent that I be the one to do it. She didn't want G to touch it at all. I thought maybe she had embarrassing images of herself that she had taken for a boyfriend or something, so I agreed and told her to pick it up in an hour and a half. She left, and I got to work.
While I was scanning for viruses, I found her, uh, “special time collection.”For those of you who don't know what yaoi is, it's basically pornographic drawings/animations of gay males. Now I've seen a lot of it in my life (you see a lot of crazy stuff in my line of work), and I've become inured to this type of stuff. Seriously, you just stop caring after a while, and it becomes more of, “Oh, another sick fuck with horse porn on his PC... well, better switch out the network card.” But today, I was in a particularly lulzy mood and can stomach yaoi pretty easily (some of it is quite well drawn), so I decided to torture G.
Z: Hey, G, this is a really weird virus. I've never seen anything like it.
G: Are you sure it's a virus?
Z: Pretty sure. Can you take a look?
*G comes over to see what I was talking about and gets an eyeful*
G: ZETSUBOU, YOU BITCH!
Z: *laughs hysterically*
G: You bitch! You're horrible! How do you sleep at night, knowing you're more corrupted than a bad batch file? (Yes, he seriously said this. He likes to make bad computer references)
Z: *laughs even harder*
At this point, R came back from his lunch break and saw what was going on. It was probably a bit bizarre to be honest- at this point I was practically falling out of the chair from laughing so hard, and G's face had started to look a bit like a tomato from embarrassment. So he decides to check it out too, resulting in more lulz.
R: Zetsubou, what the hell is going on? Are you alright?
Z: Ahahahahahahaha... computer...virus.... WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
R: Computer virus? Since when do you think computer viruses are funny?
Z: hehehe, take a look and see! It's really great!
G: For god's sake R, don't do it!
R: *ignores G and looks at the screen* You're terrible, Zetsubou.
He just shook his head and walked away, resulting in me laughing even harder. Eventually we got the viruses off.
...I'm a terrible person. And I love it!
to G and R- love you guys, and sorry. Oh well, you'll get over it, and I'll send you guys some extra-strength brain bleach (read: vodka) on Saturday.
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