Hey gang,
Whew, it feels good to blog again! I know I just posted yesterday, but I’ve been in a 3-hour staff meeting that felt like an age. (But I didn’t want to gouge my eyes out—growth!) Not only were my boss and I not addressing each other the entire time, but I was also running on about 5 hours of sleep. I’ve got a lot of anxiety coming up—the usual blacktress drama, course—but I’m also dealing with some potential medical issues that have me a bit nervous.
As you know, I’ve been all over with the sinus troubles. Well, it seems that it's not normal for sinus pain to affect the neck and it's even less normal for a part of one's head that hasn't been hit or cut or otherwise traumatized to be painful to the touch.
I went to a doctor last night and it was a real hip, swanky place--all the receptionists looked like Urban Outfitter's models and the doctors were in cute Anthropologie outfits. I went in to see Dr. Ko, a cute Asian woman who was totes wearing invisalign. I explained my symptoms as she continued to look more and more puzzled. "Where's that Dr. House looking guy I saw in the waiting room? We need to get him in here." Luckily, she laughed and didn't think I was insulting her skills. "We call him that, too!" she said. "Yeah, he does specialize in complex cases." With no equipment in their hip office, she immediately referred me to a neurologist, not just giving me the info, but calling his office up and getting me in just 15 minutes later! The neurologist, a small Indian man with a touch of Asperger's and hair like Full House hottie Uncle Jesse, pressed his fingertips together a lot and pursed his lips.
"What do YOU think it is?" He asked.
"Is this some kind of trick question?"
"No. You'd know your body better than me."
I swear, what do these people get paid for?
He basically didn't know what was up, although he thinks I could have migraines. But the only way to rule everything out is to get an MRI. This is one mystery diagnosis.
How ironic. I’m becoming one of the very medical mysteries I love to watch on Discovery Fit & Health.
I'm now writing this in a flurry from my house, where I had to come back after work to change clothes before teh 10:30pm MRI. Apparently, even the underwire of my bra* will set off the machine, so I gotta rock a sports bra and ill-fitting sweatpants along with anything else metal-free that will keep me warm.
I liked how the "preparation list" featured--in 16-pt font, no less--the directive DO NOT WEAR MAKEUP IF SCANNING THE HEAD.
Oh yeah, cause I'm thinking about foundation and creating doe eyes at a time like this.
Wanted to just let you guys in on this cause you mean the world to me. Without you, I'm just a creepy, possibly racist narcissist with too much internet access.
*Victoria and I have a secret!!!
Showing posts with label corporate work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label corporate work. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Friday, March 6, 2009
Is it OK to say 'vagina' in the workplace?
After Wednesday's magical show for the single ladies of Sydney, I got a call bright and early at 9:18am, from the lovely woman who MC'd and organized the show.
"Hey, Sojourner, do you want to do a 5 minute set tonight fr $100?"
Um, was that a trick question? Was I still asleep and dreaming? Of course I want to speak for 5 minutes and receive 100 bones.
"Um, sure," I said tentatively, slightly worried about this Caucasian's willingness to throw money away. "What's the catch?"
"Nothing," she said confidently. "My friend works at an ad agency and they were going to do a comedy thing, but no one in the office wanted to participate so they decided to get some professional stand-up comics to come in. She asked me and I'm just not in the mood, so I thought of you."
God bless her soul--she always thinks of a blacktress when it comes to a side hustle. Seeing as I'm about to start 5 weeks of traveling, every little bit helps, and I've never been paid to do stand-up. I can't believe after a few weeks on the Aussie scene, they already want to put the blacktress on payroll! I've never done a corporate gig, either, and you know I have no qualms--I will sell out like chinos at the GAP if you let me. And after Wednesday's success, I was feeling freer than after the Emancipation Proclamation, so there was no fear.
I call up my contact at the ad agency, a lovely Scottish woman who's really excited to "do something new with this month's staff meeting." The only thing she asks is that I keep it "relatively clean. I mean, we're a young, hip agency, but not too much cursing or dirtiness." Fair enough. This will be during business hours.
You know, I've never thought of myself as a dirty comedian at all--I'm not RAW like Eddie, or dropping F-bombs like it's Nagasaki. But check out my blog rating on your right--I'm NC-17! I do have a strong tendency to talk about Ps and Vs, and while I don't drop F-bombs, I certainly hand them out like candy. I'd initially planned to do the same act as the night before, but wondered if they'd want to hear about pee in a cup and "terri-FUCKING-fying" men.
I began to get nervous, trying to rack my brain of old material that wasn't NSFW. I arrived a bit before 5pm, and got a quick tour around. It was so like those funky ad agencies you see on TV, with bright colors, hipster boys trading ideas around a pool table, and cubicles decorated with quirky bits and bobbles. The agenc also represents a couple of beer brands, so apparently Thursday's the new Friday for this bunch, as everyone was already sipping before the show began.
They started with updates on the order of business from different staff members, and the creative director spoke for a bit. Apparently, the initial goal was to get each team to tell a couple jokes, and they'd have a "joke-off." Of course, no one wants to get up in front of their work colleagues and make them laugh, so that idea was scrapped--well, it would have been if not for one guy who thought he'd give it a go.
He had long stringy old-man hair in a ponytail, and had already had a glass or two of wine. He takes the mic and begins.
"So, no one wanted to tell a joke today, but I thought I'd be brave. I'm going to tell everyone my favorite joke. Are you ready?"
The audience was surprisingly receptive, so he went on.
"What sound does a baby make when you put it in the microwave?"
People began to squirm in their chairs. A few people dared ask.
"I don't know," he says. "I was too busy masturbating."
I kid you not.
So much for worrying about keeping it clean. Clearly this was a free-for-all and standards were low.
I got up and did some of the same stuff, but got a little worried about going too far over or under the 5 minutes I was asked to do--the crowd was laughing, but it wasn't the same buzz as the night before, and being under fluorescent lighting where I could see everyone's expressions stressed me out. My joke about not understand Ozzie slang kills every time, and afterwards, as everyone was leaving, one girl said, "Oh my god, you're hilarious. I love the vagina joke!!!"
Yes, yes, folks. The vagina joke.
I walked away from that event $100 richer, and with the knowledge that I will be forever known for saying 'vagina' in the workplace.
"Hey, Sojourner, do you want to do a 5 minute set tonight fr $100?"
Um, was that a trick question? Was I still asleep and dreaming? Of course I want to speak for 5 minutes and receive 100 bones.
"Um, sure," I said tentatively, slightly worried about this Caucasian's willingness to throw money away. "What's the catch?"
"Nothing," she said confidently. "My friend works at an ad agency and they were going to do a comedy thing, but no one in the office wanted to participate so they decided to get some professional stand-up comics to come in. She asked me and I'm just not in the mood, so I thought of you."
God bless her soul--she always thinks of a blacktress when it comes to a side hustle. Seeing as I'm about to start 5 weeks of traveling, every little bit helps, and I've never been paid to do stand-up. I can't believe after a few weeks on the Aussie scene, they already want to put the blacktress on payroll! I've never done a corporate gig, either, and you know I have no qualms--I will sell out like chinos at the GAP if you let me. And after Wednesday's success, I was feeling freer than after the Emancipation Proclamation, so there was no fear.
I call up my contact at the ad agency, a lovely Scottish woman who's really excited to "do something new with this month's staff meeting." The only thing she asks is that I keep it "relatively clean. I mean, we're a young, hip agency, but not too much cursing or dirtiness." Fair enough. This will be during business hours.
You know, I've never thought of myself as a dirty comedian at all--I'm not RAW like Eddie, or dropping F-bombs like it's Nagasaki. But check out my blog rating on your right--I'm NC-17! I do have a strong tendency to talk about Ps and Vs, and while I don't drop F-bombs, I certainly hand them out like candy. I'd initially planned to do the same act as the night before, but wondered if they'd want to hear about pee in a cup and "terri-FUCKING-fying" men.
I began to get nervous, trying to rack my brain of old material that wasn't NSFW. I arrived a bit before 5pm, and got a quick tour around. It was so like those funky ad agencies you see on TV, with bright colors, hipster boys trading ideas around a pool table, and cubicles decorated with quirky bits and bobbles. The agenc also represents a couple of beer brands, so apparently Thursday's the new Friday for this bunch, as everyone was already sipping before the show began.
They started with updates on the order of business from different staff members, and the creative director spoke for a bit. Apparently, the initial goal was to get each team to tell a couple jokes, and they'd have a "joke-off." Of course, no one wants to get up in front of their work colleagues and make them laugh, so that idea was scrapped--well, it would have been if not for one guy who thought he'd give it a go.
He had long stringy old-man hair in a ponytail, and had already had a glass or two of wine. He takes the mic and begins.
"So, no one wanted to tell a joke today, but I thought I'd be brave. I'm going to tell everyone my favorite joke. Are you ready?"
The audience was surprisingly receptive, so he went on.
"What sound does a baby make when you put it in the microwave?"
People began to squirm in their chairs. A few people dared ask.
"I don't know," he says. "I was too busy masturbating."
I kid you not.
So much for worrying about keeping it clean. Clearly this was a free-for-all and standards were low.
I got up and did some of the same stuff, but got a little worried about going too far over or under the 5 minutes I was asked to do--the crowd was laughing, but it wasn't the same buzz as the night before, and being under fluorescent lighting where I could see everyone's expressions stressed me out. My joke about not understand Ozzie slang kills every time, and afterwards, as everyone was leaving, one girl said, "Oh my god, you're hilarious. I love the vagina joke!!!"
Yes, yes, folks. The vagina joke.
I walked away from that event $100 richer, and with the knowledge that I will be forever known for saying 'vagina' in the workplace.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)