In My Stylish Yet Affordable Boots

If you're cold, I suggest a scarf.

I'm a dog person, but mostly a big dog person.  Small dogs, in my experience, are trip hazards and I'm already enough of a klutz.  Something about small dogs, though, seems to make pet owners think that the animals are either small children or accessories.  They're dressed up in leopard-print dresses, carried around in Louis Vuitton purses, and adorned with blinged-out collars and leashes.

The action that really mystifies me, however, is driving with your small dog in your lap.  Would you drive with a toddler in your lap?  How is this not dangerous?  How can you possibly rationalize this into being a good idea?  But taking those questions one step further, what I saw on my drive home from work tonight left me scratching my head and fearing what other indiginities this poor little dog might suffer.

I pulled up behind a minivan that appeared to contain a couple with the woman driving and the man in the passenger seat.  I saw a small dog's head appear to the right of the woman's head, and as I rolled closer I was stunned (STUNNED!) to realize that the dog was actually DRAPED AROUND THE WOMAN'S NECK.

I gaped at the sight as the minivan turned onto a side street, and tried to think of a rational reason for the doggie neckwarmer.  I'm still trying.

Arachnophobia

I have a fairly well-known bug* phobia.  I know it is irrational, I know that we need bugs of all types, blahblahblah.  Phobias aren't rational. 

Anyway.

For some reason, in blatant disregard for my acute phobia, spiders seem to want to be near me.

Exhibit A: 21st September 2006 -- I open the front door to my house to leave for work and a spider drops out of the sky.  I shriek and do a little dance to stomp on the spider.

Exhibit B: 4th January 2007 -- I am sitting at a table in the cafeteria, having lunch with some co-workers.  One of them looks at me and points slightly to my left.  I turn my head to find a spider hanging there, about a foot from my face.  I shriek, scramble to push my chair back (and nearly knock over someone in the aisle), and wait for one of my co-workers to grab it and squish it.  I am unable to finish eating after this.

Exhibit C: 19th October 2008 -- I am working in my cube when there is suddenly a spider hanging from the overhead file bin, two feet from my face.  I shriek, shout "Jesus CHRIST!", and fly out of my cube.  I find my team lead to squish the spider before I'll re-enter.

At this point, I'm pretty sure it's a conspiracy.  So I'm sending out a plea to the spiders: I know you're needed in the world and you do good things.  But I'm begging you, please stop dropping out of the sky at me!  It's definitely not helping my phobia, and I assure you that it won't help your lifespan.

*Yes, I know spiders aren't insects, but for the purposes of this phobia, they're all the same to me.

Are we speaking the same language?

I've learned a lot about cultural and language differences while spending the last several years working with clients and colleagues around the world.  Dealing with non-native English speakers has made me re-evaluate the way I speak and write in order to be much more clear, and has also made me better at deciphering emails, IMs, and phone conversations that are not always constructed in a way I'm used to reading or listening.  It doesn't always work out perfectly, though, and sometimes the results are quite funny.

English, especially US English, colloquialisms can be confusing for my non-US colleagues.  Once, very early on in my career, I was having a conversation with a co-worker who had just moved here from an Asian country, and some other co-workers. Someone mentioned that a manager in our department  had "a dry sense of humor."  My Asian co-worker was puzzled -- could someone also have a wet sense of humor?   More recently, the phrase "a little snag" used in an email from a co-worker confused a client in South America, prompting an IM to me requesting clarification.

Also sometimes causing hilarity are word misspellings or misuses in emails and IMs from my colleagues and clients around the world.  A frequent and amusing misuse is "pop-up massage" in place of "pop-up message".  What's not funny about that?

In reality, though, it impresses me that I work with brilliant people all over the world, who are able to function for eight or more hours daily using a language that is not their native tongue.  That's an accomplishment, and I'm thankful that they're willing to do it.  Because if they weren't, I would miss out on a very rich and diverse work experience.

I need an intervention

I admit it, I have a problem. A bit of an addiction, actually, to the iced venti skinny caramel latte at Starbucks. The baristas at my regular store know me and my drink, and I rarely have to actually state my order.

Tonight, though, really highlights my problem. I had a nice dinner downtown with my former college roommate, catching up while she's in town for a conference. After dinner, we walked back to her hotel to grab coffee at the Starbucks inside it. As we walked in the door, I thought I recognized the guy working the counter as one of the people who used to work at my regular store. Just then, he said to me, "hey, don't I recognize you from my old store?"

Um. Yeah.

And to top it off, he remembered my regular order.

Say what you will about Starbucks, folks, but that's some serious customer service.