Maybe that was a "SIGN"!

Parking in NYC is a part-time job. Since I pretty much already have a job and a half I park my car in a garage so I can avoid driving around in circles for days and nights at a time. The garage is a good 10 minute walk, because frankly I'm cheap and its inexpensive, I call on my walk over so the car will be waiting for me. It's a small garage with a clearly marked "Enter" and "Exit" lane. When I arrived, there was an orange traffic cone blocking the "Enter" lane and a rocket scientist had driven into the "Exit" lane, my car was still up in the garage.  In order to avoid damage to my vehicle, I advised the scientist he might want to move so we could avoid a head on collision in the garage. After much jockeying he finally managed to get his SUV into the space directly in front of the cone blocking the entrance. Then, my car arrived and the attendant informed the scientist that the garage was full. Well, that sent the scientist into a melt down and he proceeded to yell and scream at the attendant that a sign saying "Parking Lot Full" should have been placed in front of the entrance. I got in my car and drove off, oh yeah and sent a parting message to the scientist "Hey Genius! Maybe that orange cone blocking the entrance was a "sign" or do you want Mel Gibson and a crop circle too?"

Pass The Ouija Board PLEASE!

Right now I'm sitting next to a pile of forms we sent out at work in order to update contact information, mostly for emergencies. Two things totally perplex me. First, I'm wondering if people intentionally used their sloppiest penmanship. Seriously, if there is an emergency do you not want to be contacted? Please just tell me. Don't use your first grade penmanship.
Even more confusing is when asked for an emergency contact they write their own name. Well, pretty much you are going to be the first contact if say a pipe breaks in your neighbors place and the water is gushing down into your apartment. However, what if you drop dead and we need to call someone. Who should I contact? Hopefully, some family member will eventually notice you are gone and contact me prior to sending you off to Potter's Field. Or I can dust off the old ouija board and get in touch with you in the great beyond...

Caller Id

I never want to get caller ID because once you get caller ID you turn into one of those people. You know what I mean. Those people who are obsessed with their missed calls. The strangers who have to call every number back and when they don’t recognize it they say did you just call me. Who is this? Do I know you? I just dialed the wrong freaking number give me a break. And then the people who know who saw you called and call you back. Did you just call me? Yes didn’t you get my message? No, I didn’t listen to it, I just saw you called and called you back. Oh I know you didn’t because I said don’t call me back!!!

An Open Letter to "Mrs. Jeter"

Dear Mrs. Jeter,

Earlier I was driving behind you. I'm sure it was really you because your vanity plate said so. When I came home I looked you up on Facebook, there you were with a giant sign hanging around your neck "Mrs. Jeter",  an arrow pointing to you so there was no mistake. And when you refer to your self as "Mrs. Jeter" I believe you must be the wife of pretty boy Derek Jeter, Yankee shortshop and captain. Just out of curiosity does Derek know?  Is your doctor aware you have stopped taking your medication, because frankly "Mrs. Jeter" I'm worried about you.

Signed,
A Concerned Citizen

Meet "Mrs. Jeter"

CC as Opposed to BCC

Just a little lesson for the copied impaired. Today at work I sent an email, on which several people were copied so I could keep them in the "loop" as to the status of a project. The person replying apparently didn't understand the others copied for a reason. Because when you reply, I wanted those other people to see it. It saves me the effort of having to resend the same email. This is the proper use of CC aka Carbon Copy. The BCC aka Blind Carbon Copy, is when you don't want the whole world to know every one's email or everyone to reply. You know like when you send out those "funny" jokes that you think everyone wants to read. Oh and by the way...They are not even funny. Actually, I just delete them.

The Wisom of Solomon

This morning I faced an extremely complex problem but I faced it head on! For some time I contemplated back and forth which decision I should make. It was not easy. The difficult choices consisted of remaining on my big, comfy couch or venturing a few steps from the front door of my apartment to the gym. And as I continued to watch the roundup of Sunday morning news the answer struck me. Step away from the couch and go down to the gym. You see they had on disabled athelete's including a blind man who runs an eight minute mile, which is far faster than me.

Yes Virginia there is a stalker!

Apparently, stalkers do not discriminate. You think only the rich and famous suffer from the syndrome but no it effects all social classes. I know because I have one. Actually, it isn't my first. Who could blame them? I'm quite charming! I remember the first time the stalker called, it was well past the calling time slot I allocate to strangers. So I answered because to me calling someone at 1030 PM on a school night indicates something's amiss. When I answered I said what's wrong and the stalker said nothing I just called to chat, I thought I immediately learned my lesson! So now every time the stalker calls I sit and watch the phone ring. And every time I run into the stalker on the street I say "can't talk now on y way to the gym". Guess who goes to the gym now? I'll never learn!!!!