My boss came up to me this morning to tell me that she had a dream about me. My immediate thought was, "Lady, you have a son my age!" -- but luckily it wasn't that kind of dream. She went on to explain that in the dream I was flying in from California, and everyone at work was coming to greet me at the airport. "How nice," I thought. "Aren't I popular." Not really -- they weren't coming to welcome me home, they were coming to yell at me. I generally don't make a trip all the way to the airport when I want to yell at someone but my co-workers apparently just couldn't wait.
The reason? According to the dream, I had fathered two children with two different women and everyone at work decided to storm the airport and let me have it. Right. After my boss and I had a good laugh (hers genuine, mine slightly worried), I had two thoughts: 1) How did she find out? and 2) Did her tye-dye wearing neighbor happen to stop by that day with some special brownies.
I don't know what you're supposed to think when your boss dreams of you having illicit relationships. I guess it's better to think nothing at all.
You see, I work in an environment overflowing with estrogen (with every employee in my department being a woman except me and the other designer) and one soon learns to ignore some of the wacky things that go on.
For example, the space right outside my cubicle has been officially designated the "girl talk" gathering place. When in this space, you are only allowed to discuss three things: hair, clothes, and shoes. You would think with such limited conversation topics, there wouldn't be much to say. But you would be horribly wrong. If given a chance, the women at my work would discuss these things for weeks at a time, without taking a breath.
For the most part, I try to tone it out, since why the heck should I care if so-and-so's shoes look so cute. But sometimes I pick up on amusing fragments like:
"Oh no! My hair almost fell out."
Then I laugh until one of them explains to me that she just got extensions and they don't always stay in or whatnot.
The point is that I've learned that stereotypes are often true, at least some of the time. I went through highschool with more female friends than male friends -- and I can't say we ever breached the topic of hair, clothes, or shoes, but perhaps they just avoided these subjects for my sake.
If so, then I have to say thank you. High school would have sucked if we spent all our time discussing heels rather than brooding or listening to Oingo Boingo, or whatever else the heck we did in high school.
11 comments:
Hehe, we weren't avoiding these topics for your sake. It just so happened that most of us had just one pair of all-purpose shoe (either in canvas, sandal, or work boot). It's possible that Luis had more shoes than all of us combined.
If I remember correctly, a lot of the girlie talk in our group centered around vaginas and such, and this we did avoid in your presence (most of the time :P). So you can be thankful for this, and the fact that your workplace girlie-talk hasn't quite come to that (yet). :P
That's a good point. None of you were really "girly-girls" any more than I was a "manly man" -- so I suppose there was that middle ground we all had.
The women at my work haven't mentioned vaginas yet, but they have talked about armpit hair quite openly.
By the way, the title of this post is also the title of a Rufus Wainwright song, which I had stuck in my head at the time. Are you still in love with him?
Yes. It's getting worse. I have pictures of him as my desktop wallpaper. On my cubicle wall, among pictures of me and my family, is the picture of me and Rufus in Vegas. I now refer to him simply as "Rufus," as though we're on a first name basis. I think I'll add to the gay-rock-star motif at work and post my 2005 Queen calendar, which features very large prints of Freddie in concert, spandex-clad and often shirtless. Ohhhh yeah.
Haha -- what's with you and your obsessions with unattainable rockstars? (being either dead, gay, or both). Well I guess there's Ben Folds -- he's still attainable I suppose (being both straight and alive). I think he's your best bet.
Freddie Mercury wasn't gay...he was bi :P but true he is dead...man he had such a great voice
Bi, gay, hetero, coldslaw...it's all the same thing.
Yeah, especially when you're dead. *tear*
Ben Folds, although straight and alive, is married with babies and stuff. I still kissed him, though!
All is not lost. You and Ben can move to Southern Utah and join a polygamist cult. There's always that.
Hello, Jeremy. My name is Pinto (not really :)) and I just wanted to observe that your friend Jean is now on a first-name basis with Rufus? my girls and I (Gator, and Queen Brianna lol!) have loved Rufus for quite a while...and yes, we speak about him as if we know him as well!!
Pinto-pintoisfun.blogspot.com
Gator-thereisnodragon.blogspot.com
Queen Brianna-queenbrianna.blogspot.com
ttyl!
Oh yeah? Where are you guys from? If you're from around Los Angeles, maybe we've seen each other at a Rufus show or two! I'm one of the loser fan grrrls who prowls around the theatre after the show to say hi to Rufus and make desperate attempts at flirtation.
Ben Folds and polygamy? Well, he -has- been married three times already... so maybe you're on to something there!!
Nah, we're up in Canada. Nanaimo on Vancouver Island in BC to be exact. Fun place. I do have relatives in or near LA, though...
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