It’s time for another round of:
Awkward Situations Which Really Shouldn’t Be All That Awkward, But Still Are
{Pause for applause as theme music fades in}
Here’s the situation:
You are at your place of employment and have already interacted with a fellow co-worker. Maybe this co-worker sits in a cubicle next to you. Perhaps you’ve just shared light water-cooler talk. Or maybe you’ve worked together and solved a complex problem using spreadsheets and whiteboards and acronyms. Whatever the case, you’ve already gone far beyond your initial greetings for the day.
Later on, you are out and about, walking the hallways. You could be heading to the restroom, the break room, the cafeteria, or attempting to sneak out to your car for a quick nap. Then you see that same co-worker, walking towards you.
What do you do?
You’ve already greeted and talked to this person, so saying ‘Hello’ seems incredibly awkward, not to mention way too formal.
However, ignoring them completely seems rude and snooty.
Do you go with the chin-up head nod, followed by a casual “How’s it going?” or a “What’s up?” That still seems awkward. You’ve probably already asked your co-worker that! Plus, what are you, twenty-one?
Or do you go with the reserved, chin-down head nod, with no verbal greeting? This may seem like a better option, but isn’t that almost as bad as ignoring them completely? It’s almost as if you’re too busy to take the time of day to greet them in a friendly manner.
This should not be an awkward situation, but it is!
Keep in mind that your co-worker is feeling the same thing too, but they’re not sure if you are. That leaves you both in a state of complete uneasiness, as neither wants to do something that makes them look stupid or feel more awkward, but also nobody wants to accidentally insult the other.
There is no good way to handle this situation.
In a best case scenario, there is an escape route between you and your co-worker, and you can swerve away to an adjacent hallway and avoid the confrontation completely. A broom closet also works, but it’s kind of uncomfortable stuffing yourself in, especially if you have to navigate a swarm of mop handles and half-filled buckets of cleaning solution.
Perhaps there is somebody else you can stop and talk to, just until your co-worker passes. This gets awkward, however, if you’ve never talked to this other person in your life.
You can always pretend your shoe is untied and busy yourself fiddling with it, all to let your co-worker pass without forcing any sort of awkward discourse between you. But this gets weird if your co-worker has the same idea, and you both wind up kneeling and fiddling with your shoelaces at the same time.
Finally, and this is a worst case scenario, you could spill the coffee that you hopefully are carrying all over yourself. This creates a whole other set of issues, but at least you’ll be too busy screeching as the hot liquid eats away at your flesh to have to make a decision as to how to greet the co-worker that you’ve already greeted.
Feel free to contribute any other possible solutions that are inevitably better than what have been provided here.
This concludes today’s round of:
Awkward Situations Which Really Shouldn’t Be All That Awkward, But Still Are
{Pause for applause as theme music fades out}
Friday, December 31, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
The Benefit Of Stupidity
At first I was annoyed at myself for not leaving for a U.P. Christmas last Thursday night. I figured a leisurely drive on Friday morning would be much more enjoyable than fighting traffic after work the night before.
It seemed like a sound strategy until the 5 inches of snow came Thursday night.
Getting out of Minnesota was slow, and somewhat dangerous. The roads were snow-covered and slippery. I saw numerous cars in the ditch, along with an eighteen wheeler tipped on its side off of Interstate 35.
Once I hit Wisconsin, though, the roads were bare and travel became easy, allowing me to release the death grip I had on the steering wheel. Still, I was not proud of the fact that I had neglected the weather forecast completely when making my plans. It was kind of a rookie move.
However, there was a fringe benefit to my stupidity.
As I was driving through Bessemer, I saw that there was the rare mix of ice on the trees and sun shining through the perpetual cloud cover. A chance like this couldn’t be passed up. I pulled off of the highway and started to explore the side roads to the south. Eventually I found several worthwhile pictures:
This probably goes to show something but I’m not really sure what it would be. Maybe it’s just that sometimes you get lucky.
It seemed like a sound strategy until the 5 inches of snow came Thursday night.
Getting out of Minnesota was slow, and somewhat dangerous. The roads were snow-covered and slippery. I saw numerous cars in the ditch, along with an eighteen wheeler tipped on its side off of Interstate 35.
Once I hit Wisconsin, though, the roads were bare and travel became easy, allowing me to release the death grip I had on the steering wheel. Still, I was not proud of the fact that I had neglected the weather forecast completely when making my plans. It was kind of a rookie move.
However, there was a fringe benefit to my stupidity.
As I was driving through Bessemer, I saw that there was the rare mix of ice on the trees and sun shining through the perpetual cloud cover. A chance like this couldn’t be passed up. I pulled off of the highway and started to explore the side roads to the south. Eventually I found several worthwhile pictures:
This probably goes to show something but I’m not really sure what it would be. Maybe it’s just that sometimes you get lucky.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
The Christmas Drive
One of my favorite times of the holiday season is when I drive up to the U.P. just before Christmas. This usually occurs on Christmas Eve morning. It may seem strange, as it consists of nothing but me sitting in my car for many hours on end, with no family, friends, or Christmas cookies in sight.
But I enjoy it immensely.
It’s not the scenery. Having a nice snowfall blanketing the landscape helps, but it’s not essential by any means. I could be driving through the desert and it would still be the same.
What I like is that its is a soft spot between real life, and the responsibilities thereof, and the flurry of Christmas activities that kick off on Christmas Eve and don’t end until the day after Christmas.
Not that I don’t like the Christmas activities. They’re wonderful, and I wouldn’t miss them for anything. But once they begin, everything goes by so fast that in no time at all it’s the day after Christmas, and I’m staring down the bleak reality that is the coming long, cold January.
So, for me, if there’s a time for relaxation, anticipation, and personal reflection, it’s during the drive home.
As soon as I start up my car, real life has temporarily disappeared. No more work, no more pressure, no more stress. The ride itself is the definition of freedom. I look ahead to the fun that is to be had, placing myself into a sort of cozy zone of Christmas anticipation, all without the distractions of everyday life.
It’s the only time that I’ll listen to Christmas music and really enjoy it. Prior to that, it seems a little too commercial, or perhaps a bit too premature. But on the ride up, anything else would seem strange and out of place, and it would ruin the mood.
I also listen to some old time radio Christmas broadcasts, such as Miracle on 34th street or a Christmas Carol, from way back in the 40’s or 50’s. At any other time it would seem strange and tacky, but not on the ride up.
It wouldn’t seem like driving through Ashland, Wisconsin, or any of the other towns along the way, would be all that enjoyable, especially if the roads are slippery or the falling snow is limiting visibility. But with a steaming cup of coffee, a Garth Brooks Christmas album, and plenty of time to focus on what truly matters in life, you can’t do a whole lot better.
Hopefully you have time for something similar.
Merry Christmas!
But I enjoy it immensely.
It’s not the scenery. Having a nice snowfall blanketing the landscape helps, but it’s not essential by any means. I could be driving through the desert and it would still be the same.
What I like is that its is a soft spot between real life, and the responsibilities thereof, and the flurry of Christmas activities that kick off on Christmas Eve and don’t end until the day after Christmas.
Not that I don’t like the Christmas activities. They’re wonderful, and I wouldn’t miss them for anything. But once they begin, everything goes by so fast that in no time at all it’s the day after Christmas, and I’m staring down the bleak reality that is the coming long, cold January.
So, for me, if there’s a time for relaxation, anticipation, and personal reflection, it’s during the drive home.
As soon as I start up my car, real life has temporarily disappeared. No more work, no more pressure, no more stress. The ride itself is the definition of freedom. I look ahead to the fun that is to be had, placing myself into a sort of cozy zone of Christmas anticipation, all without the distractions of everyday life.
It’s the only time that I’ll listen to Christmas music and really enjoy it. Prior to that, it seems a little too commercial, or perhaps a bit too premature. But on the ride up, anything else would seem strange and out of place, and it would ruin the mood.
I also listen to some old time radio Christmas broadcasts, such as Miracle on 34th street or a Christmas Carol, from way back in the 40’s or 50’s. At any other time it would seem strange and tacky, but not on the ride up.
It wouldn’t seem like driving through Ashland, Wisconsin, or any of the other towns along the way, would be all that enjoyable, especially if the roads are slippery or the falling snow is limiting visibility. But with a steaming cup of coffee, a Garth Brooks Christmas album, and plenty of time to focus on what truly matters in life, you can’t do a whole lot better.
Hopefully you have time for something similar.
Merry Christmas!
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Kung Pao Buckaroo Holiday
I posted this video last year, but I'm doing it again for several reasons:
1) It's funny and well worth listening to once or twice a year.
2) Where is it written that I can't lapse into reruns, just like TV shows do in the summer?
3) If you haven't watched it, it's new to you.
4) It's easier than writing something original.
5) This isn't a reason. I just like numbered lists and wanted to keep it going.
1) It's funny and well worth listening to once or twice a year.
2) Where is it written that I can't lapse into reruns, just like TV shows do in the summer?
3) If you haven't watched it, it's new to you.
4) It's easier than writing something original.
5) This isn't a reason. I just like numbered lists and wanted to keep it going.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
The Wheels On The Bus
We had a company wide meeting today at work, but it took place at a different building than where I'm located. The company provided transport in the form of what were essentially school busses. I hadn’t ridden on one in many, many years, but as soon as I stepped on, everything from my childhood came back.
Cool kids in the back. They get to chew tobacco, spit on the floor, and make trouble, under the assumption that the bus driver never looks in the mirror or has vision that is only effective up to ten feet.
The seats are made of a horrible material that sticks to you on hot summer days.
Sitting in the back has its downside: it’s so bumpy that if you were old enough to have fillings, they’d all get dislodged.
The windows fog up in the winter. You can then write or draw hilarious things on them. If you’re clever, you write it backwards so people can read it from the outside. This never gets old.
The bus always has a strange smell. Maybe because many children have no concept of personal hygiene.
It seems like you’re traveling in a gigantic loaf of bread with wheels. Except a loaf of bread can probably corner better.
If you’re lucky enough to sit by yourself, you turn sideways, with your back up against the window and your feet splayed out on the seat. You’re living the high life now!
Hands inside of the bus at all times!!!!!
It was pretty funky. I felt like I should've had a backpack full of textbooks and a sack lunch with me.
The best part? The cool kids didn’t give me a wedgie!!!!
Heck, I wish I’d brought an action figure.
Cool kids in the back. They get to chew tobacco, spit on the floor, and make trouble, under the assumption that the bus driver never looks in the mirror or has vision that is only effective up to ten feet.
The seats are made of a horrible material that sticks to you on hot summer days.
Sitting in the back has its downside: it’s so bumpy that if you were old enough to have fillings, they’d all get dislodged.
The windows fog up in the winter. You can then write or draw hilarious things on them. If you’re clever, you write it backwards so people can read it from the outside. This never gets old.
The bus always has a strange smell. Maybe because many children have no concept of personal hygiene.
It seems like you’re traveling in a gigantic loaf of bread with wheels. Except a loaf of bread can probably corner better.
If you’re lucky enough to sit by yourself, you turn sideways, with your back up against the window and your feet splayed out on the seat. You’re living the high life now!
Hands inside of the bus at all times!!!!!
It was pretty funky. I felt like I should've had a backpack full of textbooks and a sack lunch with me.
The best part? The cool kids didn’t give me a wedgie!!!!
Heck, I wish I’d brought an action figure.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Christmas Lists
The Christmas List.
A child’s most important literary work of the year. A list of materialistic requests to be fulfilled, with no strings attached, unless you had somehow landed on the naughty list. A magical connection with the jolly fat guy living way up at the North Pole, not to mention a direct line of communication with the parental units' wallets.
You don’t get much better than that.
My Christmas lists were always complex. I didn’t leave much to chance. For example, I usually employed a “star” system to denote my levels of want for each particular item. The more I wanted something, the more stars I’d draw in next to it. I didn’t trust that my parents would be able to figure it out on their own, despite the fact that I spent most of my waking hours from October through late December reminding them constantly what I wanted, and what I wanted the most.
A big part of my lists came from the Sears and J.C. Penney catalogs:
It was required seasonal reading. They’d come in the mail and soon after I’d have the toy sections of both memorized. Back then there was no such thing as shopping online. Either you got it from K-Mart in Houghton or the catalog. By the time December came, the catalogs would be literally falling apart, as they would’ve been leafed through about eight-thousand times by my siblings and me.
If you wanted something from the catalog, you specified it on your Christmas list along with the exact product number and the catalog it was in. This was critical, because you didn’t want to accidentally get a Barbie corvette instead of a G.I. Joe aircraft carrier due to an accounting error.
Over the years my Christmas lists have dwindled away to where they are now me scratching my head and then telling my parents that I could use next year’s Dilbert calendar, and possibly lasagna.
But that’s the way it works. Getting becomes less important, while other things become more important.
Still, I haven’t made a good Christmas list in a while. So here goes:
I'm serious about Snake-Eyes! Come on Santa!
A child’s most important literary work of the year. A list of materialistic requests to be fulfilled, with no strings attached, unless you had somehow landed on the naughty list. A magical connection with the jolly fat guy living way up at the North Pole, not to mention a direct line of communication with the parental units' wallets.
You don’t get much better than that.
My Christmas lists were always complex. I didn’t leave much to chance. For example, I usually employed a “star” system to denote my levels of want for each particular item. The more I wanted something, the more stars I’d draw in next to it. I didn’t trust that my parents would be able to figure it out on their own, despite the fact that I spent most of my waking hours from October through late December reminding them constantly what I wanted, and what I wanted the most.
A big part of my lists came from the Sears and J.C. Penney catalogs:
It was required seasonal reading. They’d come in the mail and soon after I’d have the toy sections of both memorized. Back then there was no such thing as shopping online. Either you got it from K-Mart in Houghton or the catalog. By the time December came, the catalogs would be literally falling apart, as they would’ve been leafed through about eight-thousand times by my siblings and me.
If you wanted something from the catalog, you specified it on your Christmas list along with the exact product number and the catalog it was in. This was critical, because you didn’t want to accidentally get a Barbie corvette instead of a G.I. Joe aircraft carrier due to an accounting error.
Ooooh, aircraft carrier
Over the years my Christmas lists have dwindled away to where they are now me scratching my head and then telling my parents that I could use next year’s Dilbert calendar, and possibly lasagna.
But that’s the way it works. Getting becomes less important, while other things become more important.
Still, I haven’t made a good Christmas list in a while. So here goes:
My Christmas List:
Christmas Day Sauna: **
A Mountain Dew in my stocking: *
Nephews and nieces tearing into presents simultaneously, genetically unable to wait nicely for one another, so that within seconds it appears that it's snowing wrapping paper shreds from the ceiling: ****
Christmas Eve party: ***
Being home: ****
Snake-Eyes v2 1985 Action Figure: **********
Best toy ever. I think about 4 total were ever made worldwide, so that every little boy dreamt of having one but never got one.
I'm serious about Snake-Eyes! Come on Santa!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
An All Or Nothing Christmas
I have a dilemma.
I either have to choose all or nothing. All would be fun, but way too much work, especially from a male perspective. Doing nothing makes sense from a rational point of view.
What’s on the line here? Only my Christmas spirit.
Let's begin with some background information.
At my old apartment in Wisconsin, creating a comfortable, “homey” if you will, atmosphere was not a high priority for me. By this I mean if I offered a homeless person the opportunity to spend the night at my place, that homeless person would have declined on the grounds that the streets would have had more comfortable furniture.
With this in mind, it’s easy to see that Christmas decorating was also not a priority. (Neither were chairs and lamps.) I did have one decoration that I was, and still am, proud of: a two foot tall plastic Christmas tree decorated entirely with homemade ornaments produced by my nieces. The source of the ornaments alone make it, and I’m not exaggerating here, the best Christmas tree in the history of the universe, and perhaps several other parallel universes. Still, a two foot tall Christmas tree, as glorious as it may be, does not really give a room the feel of Christmas.
When I moved to my new apartment in Minnesota, I made it a priority to furnish my living room with something beyond apple crates. (No, I really didn’t have apple crates in Wisconsin. They’re too expensive.)
I accomplished this, and now December has rolled around. I recently pulled out my tree and my other decoration, a Charlie Brown figurine, complete with his own droopy tree. I set them out, but I quickly realized that it didn’t feel right. I was moving up in this world! I had a bookshelf now! I needed more than the same decorations! So I spent five bucks on a string of lights which I now have bordering my window/sliding door. I thought this would be enough for a respectable bachelor pad, but I was wrong. It looks pathetic, like the lights are some sort of outcast Christmas decorations that no other Christmas decorations would dare be seen in public with.
So I’ve realized it has to be all or nothing. Either I have to take down all of my decorations (allow 30 seconds for this) or I have to go all out and create an indoor winter wonderland complete with lights, full-sized trees, mistletoe (oh yeah!), wreaths, and plenty of sugary, Christmas-themed candy.
But I really don’t want to go all out! It’s foolishness! (Somewhere, my Dad is beaming.) It’s so much work for such a little time, plus I don’t want a whole wing of my apartment devoted to storing Christmas decorations. It just doesn’t seem worth it.
Still, it would be nice to bask in the Christmas spirit.
So that is my dilemma. As I write this, I’m looking over at my lonely string of lights, doing their best to be festive, but which instead are looking like nerds nobody wants to associate with. I feel like I should give them friends or put them out of their misery.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do. Decisions, decisions.
Either way, I think that plenty of sugary, Christmas-themed candy is in order. You gotta have some Christmas spirit, right?
I either have to choose all or nothing. All would be fun, but way too much work, especially from a male perspective. Doing nothing makes sense from a rational point of view.
What’s on the line here? Only my Christmas spirit.
Let's begin with some background information.
At my old apartment in Wisconsin, creating a comfortable, “homey” if you will, atmosphere was not a high priority for me. By this I mean if I offered a homeless person the opportunity to spend the night at my place, that homeless person would have declined on the grounds that the streets would have had more comfortable furniture.
With this in mind, it’s easy to see that Christmas decorating was also not a priority. (Neither were chairs and lamps.) I did have one decoration that I was, and still am, proud of: a two foot tall plastic Christmas tree decorated entirely with homemade ornaments produced by my nieces. The source of the ornaments alone make it, and I’m not exaggerating here, the best Christmas tree in the history of the universe, and perhaps several other parallel universes. Still, a two foot tall Christmas tree, as glorious as it may be, does not really give a room the feel of Christmas.
When I moved to my new apartment in Minnesota, I made it a priority to furnish my living room with something beyond apple crates. (No, I really didn’t have apple crates in Wisconsin. They’re too expensive.)
I accomplished this, and now December has rolled around. I recently pulled out my tree and my other decoration, a Charlie Brown figurine, complete with his own droopy tree. I set them out, but I quickly realized that it didn’t feel right. I was moving up in this world! I had a bookshelf now! I needed more than the same decorations! So I spent five bucks on a string of lights which I now have bordering my window/sliding door. I thought this would be enough for a respectable bachelor pad, but I was wrong. It looks pathetic, like the lights are some sort of outcast Christmas decorations that no other Christmas decorations would dare be seen in public with.
So I’ve realized it has to be all or nothing. Either I have to take down all of my decorations (allow 30 seconds for this) or I have to go all out and create an indoor winter wonderland complete with lights, full-sized trees, mistletoe (oh yeah!), wreaths, and plenty of sugary, Christmas-themed candy.
But I really don’t want to go all out! It’s foolishness! (Somewhere, my Dad is beaming.) It’s so much work for such a little time, plus I don’t want a whole wing of my apartment devoted to storing Christmas decorations. It just doesn’t seem worth it.
Still, it would be nice to bask in the Christmas spirit.
So that is my dilemma. As I write this, I’m looking over at my lonely string of lights, doing their best to be festive, but which instead are looking like nerds nobody wants to associate with. I feel like I should give them friends or put them out of their misery.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do. Decisions, decisions.
Either way, I think that plenty of sugary, Christmas-themed candy is in order. You gotta have some Christmas spirit, right?
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