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Yogurt Fiasco

At work on Wednesday someone – other than me – ate my yogurt.  I sauntered over to the office refrigerator, opened the door, and noticed that my fruit bowl was not sitting on top of my yogurt. I didn’t panic right away.

First, I reviewed the contents of the rest of the fridge, thinking maybe my yogurt had been moved to some other shelf. 

However, my search soon ended in vain, and I realized that the unthinkable had occurred.  My nonfat, blueberry yogurt was sitting comfortably in someone else’s tummy!  I knew what I had to do. I took a casual stroll around the office to review the contents of everyone’s trash bin.  I soon found the culprit – the empty yogurt container was in the first bin I passed to get back to my cubicle.  Torn between confrontation and passive resistance, I sat down at my cubicle to think about how to approach such a, dare I say, awkward, situation. I imagined many scenarios.   Confrontation Scenario 1:

Me: Hello! I notice you have eaten my organic, nonfat, blueberry yogurt.
Him: Yeah, what of it?
Me: Uh, nothing, I just wanted to let you know I’m very observant. 

This scenario was awful. I promptly imagined another.  Confrontation Scenario 2:
Me: Hey, uh, I’m sorry. There seems to have been some confusion.  I probably should have labeled my yogurt, but I’ve been eating it every day for the past two years, so I thought every one here knew that was my yogurt.
Him: Wow.
Me: Yeah, so, it’s no biggie, but I’d appreciate you not eating it again.
Him: There’s other yogurt in the fridge.
Me: I can’t just eat other people’s yogurt. What is wrong with you?  

 This scenario was an improvement, but then I thought about emailing the entire office.  Confrontation Scenario 3:  

Dear Office,  Every day my mom packs me a lunch of fruit and organic, nonfat blueberry yogurt.  She puts a lot of time into picking out a fresh container of yogurt for me, and it is very important that I eat it.  It is delicious, it ensures timely bowel movement, and it provides me with my much needed doses of calcium and vitamin D.  (Insert picture of the yogurt.) So you see, when you eat my yogurt, you’re not just eating my food. You’re killing me slowly.  

This scenario was a tad extreme. I decided against it.   On Thursday, I ate my yogurt first thing in the morning, so no one could eat it before me.  Then, when a co-worker casually asked me what I was having for lunch, I said loudly, “I eat yogurt for lunch everyday!”  The co-worker stared. I continued, “Yup! Blueberry yogurt!”
The co-worker looked around: “Okay. Uh do you eat anything else?” 

I replied, still articulating loudly, “Sure sure, but the nonfat, organic, blueberry yogurt happens EVERY DAY.”

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French Fries

Hello Blog.

Terrible awkwardness ensued today as I went in search of nourishment. First, I was going to get Mexican food, but then I decided the line was too long, so I went to another dining establishment to order French fries.

I ordered, paid, and then the fine gentleman behind the counter said, “It’ll be five minutes before they’re ready.” I was outraged. I stood there and glared at him. Five minutes!? I only ordered them because I thought they would be quick. Why didn’t he tell me before I paid? All of these thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there, glaring.

I decided to be patient and wait it out. I headed over to pour some ketchup into a little container. Then, I tried to cover the container with the little matching cap, but it wouldn’t fit. It was awful, dear blog, really a complete disaster, getting that plastic top onto the plastic mini container. I tried another plastic cap, thinking maybe I had chanced upon an aberration in the group of plastic caps and containers. But alas, no, it seems this particular restaurant had ordered two products that were supposed to fit each other, but did not. Thinking quickly, I decided to wrap a napkin around the cap and container so that the ketchup wouldn’t spill en route to my return to work with the french fries and ketchup.

I again glared at the gentleman behind the counter. Had he prefaced my payment with, “It will take five minutes to make the fries, and you will not be able to place a lid on top of the condiment container,” I would have thought twice before ordering. I would have weighed my options heavily. Perhaps I would have frowned to indicate my great displeasure. Who knows?

Instead, I struggled with the ketchup container, and glared, awkwardly. At one point, the young woman cooking the fries smiled at me. I wanted to shake my fist at her and yell, “Now is not the time for smiling! Now is the time for french fry making!” but that would have been a bit dramatic, and maybe I would have been misconstrued as a maniac. So, instead of yelling back, “I’ve had enough of your restaurant’s trickery and deceit!” I returned a friendly smile to the woman.

To my complete horror, rather than continue working on the fries after I smiled back, she walked away and went to the restroom. My future fries were left totally unattended. I looked around frantically. “What if she is going number two? That will take forever! I’m never getting my fries! ALL HOPE IS LOST!”

Then some other guy jumped in and put my fries into a paper cup and handed me my bag. I gently placed my plastic-container-with-the-ketchup-wrapped-in-a-napkin into the bag, thanked the people behind the counter, and headed back to work. The end.

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The Story of the Belt

I have just returned from Starbucks, a friendly little cafe that serves fine expresso and other such caffeinated beverages. I ordered a venti mocha, skim, with whipped cream. Venti is the equivalent for large. They use non-standard words for their drink sizes. It’s really quite charming. For example, tall means small. They picked tall because it rhymes with small, I presume. Isn’t that clever?! Everyone should be so lucky as to have a Starbucks nearby, but alas, that is probably not the case. It’s unfortunate that not every town is as privileged as mine to have such a delightful mom and pop coffee shop.

On my Starbucks cup there is a quotation from Joe Cristina: “Worldwide, nearly 40 million people are living with HIV and AIDS. Over 12 million children have been orphaned due to AIDS. Six hundred thousand children are infected with HIV each year. And 25 years into the AIDS pandemic, no vaccine or cure is in sight. The numbers speak for themselves.” It is a very depressing quotation. Next time, I will order a tall (small) so that they cannot fit such a long, sombering quotation on my cup. Or I’ll just say, “Give me the cup that doesn’t have an AIDS quote, please. I’m having a rough enough day as is. Do you have any cup that talks about flower patches?”

In addition to purchasing coffee, I have been on the lookout for sweater vests. Remember? I talked about this earlier. I have not been able to find any. I did, however, purchase a belt. I saw a mannequin wearing the belt, and I thought, “That belt looks good on the mannequin, and it would look even better on me.” It’s quite an interesting story, the story of my belt. Let me tell it.

I was at The Gap, a friendly boutique-esque shop that sells clothes that are appropriate for both work and casual events. They have clothes for men and women. I was reviewing the mannequins and spotted an ensemble that struck my fancy. It was a pair of wide-legged, pin-striped pants, a brown belt, and a blue, loose fitting sweater. I immediately headed over to the rack with the pin-striped pants and picked out two sizes to try on in the dressing room. Unfortunately, neither of these sizes fit well, so I asked the friendly staff to bring me a smaller size. This is where the plot thickens. The friendly staff member returned, but with the wrong pants! I said, “No. I’m afraid there has been a terrible mistake. These pants which you have brought me are not the same as the ones I saw on the mannequin.” She set off again in search of the pants, and returned, luckily this time with the correct pair and size. I tried them on, and they fit. So I decided to buy them.

However, something was missing. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, so I returned to the mannequin, only to immediately realize that the belt was just the accessory I needed to make these pants a truly wonderful addition to my warddrobe. Off I went, in search of the belt on the mannequin. I found all the belts, but could only find my particular mannequin belt in a size large. Again, I turned to a friendly staff member for some assistance. I pointed to the belt, “I would like this belt.” They nodded. “But I can only find it in a large on the rack,” I explained. Then I took it a step further, “Surely this actual belt on the mannequin is not a size large.” I said it in a very suggestive tone. I might as well have taken the belt off of the mannequin myself.
To my dismay my suggestive tone was not suggestive enough. The staff member was quick to reply, “I’ll go check in the back.” For two minutes, I stood there, really concerned I was not going to get this belt that would surely look absolutely fabulous on me. I thought about what I would do without the belt. I wondered if I could ever be truly happy wearing the pin-stripe pants without the belt. I suspected I couldn’t.

Luckily, he was able to retrieve an appropriate size from the back, and I bought the belt.

And there you have it.

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Sweater vest?

Hello blog!

Usually, I wouldn’t write in you after making such huge promises of site progress, and then not even making a tiny effort to follow through.  Rather, I would ignore you for months and then return with even grander promises. That’s just how I roll.

Today is an exception, however, because our system is sort of down and I am unable to do work for which I am paid. So I turn to you, in my time of boredom.

So…it’s Thursday…and the weather is really nice…and…uh….I’m going to have some fruit for lunch…and have you heard that song “Naive” by The Kooks? It’s pretty catchy. You probably haven’t heard it – it’s Indie. It’s big in the UK though.

More importantly, I’ve been very seriously considering changing my warddrobe. My go-to ensembles include fitted hooded sweatshirts, jeans, and button down shirts.

I am now thinking about embracing vests, specifically, sweater vests. It would be a rather bold transition to make, and I may not be able to make it. Stay tuned, dear blog, for a fashion adventure may be right around the corner.

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Dear Blog,

I realize I’ve been a little distant, but I want you to know I’ve been thinking about you in my time away. I wasn’t able to write because sometimes other things in my life take priority. What was so important that I neglected you? Well, I was reflecting, if you must know. On what? Life. Duh. I looked inward. For months.

Okay maybe that’s a lie. I was away on business. Now I’m back!

Many important things happened during my time away. First and foremost, I adjusted to a new time zone. I have also made international friends. I can prove this through online social networking tools that connect us together now. This is important because upon my return I was able to say to my parents: “Behold my new international friends, their pictures, and their favorite movies. So you see, mum and pop, I have friends.”

Secondly, I have become more worldly. This was inevitable as soon as I got onto the plane and crossed an ocean. I now have a refined taste in music and an eye for sophisticated accoutrement.

What does this all mean for you, imawkward blog? Well it means growth! It means progress! It means hope. No more blog entries about how the site is coming soon. Future blog entries will be about how the site is up and running. This site is finally going to get made! Maybe.

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Bermuda triangle, girl scout, or alpine skiing?

As usual, I have very important news.

Last night was supposed to be a very relaxed night. But then, my friend called me up and said, “Want to go to a bikini competition?”

“Yes.” I responded, without hesitating. As a pervert, such competitions are often very enjoyable for me to watch. That’s a joke, of course. I’m not a pervert.  I’m just a lonely man, looking for love in all the wrong places.

Anyway, I have always wondered what it was like to go to MTV’s Spring Break or participate in some other form of youth revelry. So now, in my older age, I am quick to jump on any opportunity that will give me a glimpse of the fun I could have had.

Anyway, we got there, had some drinks, and the competition started. The one thing I remember distinctly about competition is the young announcer who asked the competitors questions. He was awful. He just kept asking the exact same questions. One of his questions just required that the girl pick one word from three he supplied. 

Here are three of the five interviews I watched:

DJ: Do you have a boyfriend?

Girl: Yes

Audience: Booo!

DJ: Oh no! Do you have a girlfriend?

Girl: Uh…no. I have a boyfriend.

Audience: Booo!

DJ: Choose one of three: bermuda triangle, girl scout, or alpine skiing.

Girl: *blank look*

DJ: (speaking slower) Bermuda triange…Girl scout….or allllpine skiing.

Girl: Uh, I don’t know, girl scout

Audience: Booo!

DJ: Looks like the audience didn’t like that!

Girl: *Smiles and waves*

DJ: What are you going to spend the money on if you win?

Girl: I can’t tell you that.


DJ: Do you have a boyfriend?

Girl: No!

Audience: Yaaay!

DJ: Oh no! Do you have a girlfriend?

Girl: Maaaybe..

Audience: Yaaay!

DJ: Choose one of three: bermuda triangle, girl scout, or alpine skiing.

Girl: *blank (and completely justified) WTF look*

DJ: (speaking slower) Bermuda triange…Girl scout….or alpine skiing.

Girl: Uh, I don’t know, girl scout

Audience: Booo!

DJ: Looks like the audience didn’t like that!

Girl: *looks confused*

DJ: What are you going to spend the money on if you win?

Girl: Vegas baby!


My favorite, however, was the following Q&A:

DJ: Do you have a boyfriend?

Girl: No, I have a son.

Audience: Yaay!

DJ: Oh no! Do you have a girlfriend?

Girl: No.

Audience: Yaaay!

DJ: Choose one of three: bermuda triangle, girl scout, or alpine skiing.

Girl: Girl scout

Audience: Booo!

DJ: Looks like the audience didn’t like that!

DJ: What are you going to spend the money on if you win?

Girl: My son.

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Major Productivity

After an impressive three hours of brainstorming over at headquarters,

we have modified the look of the home page. 


 we put a lot of







g in the introduction paragraph to make it read more


You probably agree that this is a pretty brilliant change.  

For those of you unfamiliar with the old look, back in the day (yesterday), that paragraph was just one simple paragraph. 

Now, the site introductory paragraph is full of empty space





and center aligned 

sentence fragments. 

We have also increased the font size.  

 Such progress is unprecedented.

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I'm Irritable

I’m having one of those “over-reacting to everything” sort of days.

For example, one of my employees put something in reverse chronological order. I stared at the numbers, and then angrily thought, “WHY?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?! YOU KNOW THE RULES! MY DAY IS RUINED!”

And then, I re-ordered it, all the while shaking my head irritably. This task took a whole minute.

I also have this pen that is very messy. Often, more ink comes out of it than necessary. Today, in my heightened state of annoyance, I seriously considered replacing the pen – throwing it away, even. I know, a strong move, but that’s just how irritated I was. Instead, recognizing that I shouldn’t make these kinds of decisions when I am not thinking rationally, I put a cap on the pen and vowed to use the computer to jot down notes and tasks today. Anything that absolutely must be written on paper will be written with my highlighter, a writing utensil that has never leaked on me.

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Lookin' good! ..well, soon

Today I am wearing glasses, and my hair is up in in a disheveled pony tail. Nevertheless, I look intelligent and adorable. It’s very impressive, actually. I’ve outdone myself. Most days I just look good, but today I look really good with very little effort.

Truly, few people can pull off this look as well as I am at this very moment, right now. Spectacular. I should decorate my cubicle with mirrors so as to bask in the glory of my own movie star good looks.

On the other hand, this site is not looking as good as I am. So, it must have a grand makeover. Changes coming soon, dear visitor, changes coming soon.

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Stretching for Reflection

This morning I saw a small spider crawl into my work bag. Rather then empty out my bag and try to kill the thing, I decided to be merciful and let it stay there. I don’t know if it’s still in there, but now, I walk around, carrying my bag way out in front of me just in case the spider decides to crawl out. It’s rather ridiculous because I won’t even put stuff in the bag. I stumbled out of my car with a fairly empty bag in one hand held at a distance, and a sweater, some lunch, my wallet, and my keys all in my other hand. The spider has made me look like a fool.

I will set it free (kick it out of my bag) during my lunch break.

In more interesting news, I am feeling very patriotic and have posted an American flag in my cubicle. The flag has replaced the giant fish I posted earlier. Such news is completely blog-worthy because…because…okay I’m really low on material.

Sharing the news about my cubicle decor has taught me a lot about myself. Specifically, it has taught me how self-involved I am. It takes an impressively self-interested person to think other people would care to read such information.  Self-involved people are rare in this world, so let’s hope I never change.

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