Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Car Trouble
I have a 2004 Pontiac Grand Prix. It's no Mercedes, but it's a nice enough car and it serves me well. There are several other Grand Prixes in the parking garage at work the same color as mine, and I've always felt a special unspoken camaraderie with the owners. Today I parked next to a nearly identical Grand Prix, and I went out to lunch at the same time as the other owner. I made the silly comment of "nice car" as I walked to my vehicle and he to his; he smiled and said "yours too...company car?"
What?
It seems that the Grand Prix is one of the vehicles The Company will give to its bigwigs, and I think it bothers me. I had my choice of let's say 30 car models to choose from, and I picked the Grand Prix; I felt a bond with other people who made that same decision. But it turns out they picked their cars from only 3 or 4 models, so it's not as special.
I do take small comfort in knowing that I have the "Sports Competition Package" which is not an option for a company car (although I'm sure if you're ranked high enough, you could get whatever package you wanted, but at that level you wouldn't get a Pontiac in the first place.)
So is it better to pay for a car yourself and get the top-of-the-line options, or get a standard model for free? That is left as an exercise for the reader. As is the plural form of "Grand Prix"; is it really Prixes?
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I have a 2004 Pontiac Grand Prix. It's no Mercedes, but it's a nice enough car and it serves me well. There are several other Grand Prixes in the parking garage at work the same color as mine, and I've always felt a special unspoken camaraderie with the owners. Today I parked next to a nearly identical Grand Prix, and I went out to lunch at the same time as the other owner. I made the silly comment of "nice car" as I walked to my vehicle and he to his; he smiled and said "yours too...company car?"
What?
It seems that the Grand Prix is one of the vehicles The Company will give to its bigwigs, and I think it bothers me. I had my choice of let's say 30 car models to choose from, and I picked the Grand Prix; I felt a bond with other people who made that same decision. But it turns out they picked their cars from only 3 or 4 models, so it's not as special.
I do take small comfort in knowing that I have the "Sports Competition Package" which is not an option for a company car (although I'm sure if you're ranked high enough, you could get whatever package you wanted, but at that level you wouldn't get a Pontiac in the first place.)
So is it better to pay for a car yourself and get the top-of-the-line options, or get a standard model for free? That is left as an exercise for the reader. As is the plural form of "Grand Prix"; is it really Prixes?
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Saturday, September 23, 2006
T got L O and I'm M. T will M to K and that S.
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Thursday, September 21, 2006
The Key to Success
Smart: Leaving a spare key in a secret hiding place in the garage in case you ever lock yourself out of your condo.
Not So Smart: Forgetting to return the key to the secret hiding place after you use it.
I went for a run on my way home from work and when I got home I was sweaty, and tired, and hungry, and all I wanted was a nice shower and something to eat. I realized I didn't have my house keys with me. No problem, I'll just use my secret spare. But I couldn't find it. I was thinking, "this IS my secret hiding place, right? Of course it is... I distinctly remember taking the key when I locked myself out 2 months ago..." And there's the problem. My spare key was still sitting on the counter, waiting to be returned. So I had to drive back to work, exhausted and smelly, and rummage through my desk to get my keys.
To answer your question, no I haven't put the spare key back yet. I'll try to remember to do it tomorrow.
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Smart: Leaving a spare key in a secret hiding place in the garage in case you ever lock yourself out of your condo.
Not So Smart: Forgetting to return the key to the secret hiding place after you use it.
I went for a run on my way home from work and when I got home I was sweaty, and tired, and hungry, and all I wanted was a nice shower and something to eat. I realized I didn't have my house keys with me. No problem, I'll just use my secret spare. But I couldn't find it. I was thinking, "this IS my secret hiding place, right? Of course it is... I distinctly remember taking the key when I locked myself out 2 months ago..." And there's the problem. My spare key was still sitting on the counter, waiting to be returned. So I had to drive back to work, exhausted and smelly, and rummage through my desk to get my keys.
To answer your question, no I haven't put the spare key back yet. I'll try to remember to do it tomorrow.
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Monday, September 18, 2006
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Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Athletic Supporters
Want to hear about my athletic supporters? You know you do. Go to Neoprene Wedgie.
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Want to hear about my athletic supporters? You know you do. Go to Neoprene Wedgie.
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Sunday, September 10, 2006
We make...holes in brush. We make...holes in brush.
Long ago, my dentist warned me about being an "aggressive brusher". How aggressive am I? This morning I snapped my toothbrush.
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Long ago, my dentist warned me about being an "aggressive brusher". How aggressive am I? This morning I snapped my toothbrush.
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Thursday, September 07, 2006
Surprises in the mail
I received a small package in the mail.
My building has a central mail room on the ground floor, and since I am impatient I never wait until I get up to my condo to open any packages. Instead, I awkwardly try to open the box while riding the elevator and juggling whatever else I happen to be carrying. Last week's box was about 8"x10"x10", and I didn't recognize the return address. I was able to break the wrapping tape with a key, and the box was practically exploding with packaging peanuts. It was tricky to try to find out what was inside with one hand while not spilling all the styrofoam. I found a small round tin, and was pretty sure it was something like a chocolate-covered pretzel sampler, or maybe a small order of cookies. I wasn't expecting anything in the mail, so it was a nice surprise. I dug through the peanuts some more, trying to find a card or something letting me know who sent me this nice gift.
Thank God I didn't open the tin to get to the sweets before finding the card. At the bottom of the box was an envelope marked "Cremation Certificate." As it turns out, the tin did not contain delicious chocolate-covered pretzels but rather the ashes of my deceased cat.
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I received a small package in the mail.
My building has a central mail room on the ground floor, and since I am impatient I never wait until I get up to my condo to open any packages. Instead, I awkwardly try to open the box while riding the elevator and juggling whatever else I happen to be carrying. Last week's box was about 8"x10"x10", and I didn't recognize the return address. I was able to break the wrapping tape with a key, and the box was practically exploding with packaging peanuts. It was tricky to try to find out what was inside with one hand while not spilling all the styrofoam. I found a small round tin, and was pretty sure it was something like a chocolate-covered pretzel sampler, or maybe a small order of cookies. I wasn't expecting anything in the mail, so it was a nice surprise. I dug through the peanuts some more, trying to find a card or something letting me know who sent me this nice gift.
Thank God I didn't open the tin to get to the sweets before finding the card. At the bottom of the box was an envelope marked "Cremation Certificate." As it turns out, the tin did not contain delicious chocolate-covered pretzels but rather the ashes of my deceased cat.
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