"It's not personal. It's business."

On almost every single occasion I would never stick up for her, agree with her, or even really listen to what she is saying. But since she and the VP are on vacation together, I had no other choice than to fight the battle I knew she'd fight. I had no other option -- had I not, she would have come back from her ski trip and bitched at me for not saying anything. And just as I suspected, I stood up for what she would have wanted and in turn, got bitched out anyway.

I'm not one to really bitch about my job -- at least most days. I really can't. I work for a phenomenal company with more benefits than really necessary. While the company is amazing, the job is stressful. Tight deadlines, fire drill projects that get kicked off about 20 minutes before they are due, lack of communication, the list goes on. But I think what bothers me most is this coworker of mine.

No one can stand working with her -- other than one person -- with whom she is skiing in Colorado. How they can both be on vacation -- TOGETHER -- at the same time, none of us will understand. And just as suspected, while they are away, all hell breaks loose -- and of course, it fell on me.

We never agree on anything, she and I. And I knew this would be no different. She had every chance in the world to approve the clam shell packaging for the camera. She just decided (as she always does) to disregard URGENT emails. And because of this, I have to clean up the dirty work. Every single time. I have to come up with the solution to no real estate for packaging copy. I have to stand up to the product manager and fight a fight I know I will loose. I have to send the emails, look like the bad guy, and ultimately, look like the fool.

And I did just that -- twice now in one week. This last one, about the packaging, I knew she would fight, so I took the hit. I argued my ass off, came up with a solution to compromise both sides, and what happens? I get bitched at.

Last week -- we fought over a camera display image. "I don't like it" she says. Do I care if you don't like it? You are the only one that doesn't like it. Deal with it -- you don't have to "like" everything. The baby head is cute -- people like cute. But no -- the baby head is not good enough and now we are fighting over a back display image.

I am telling you -- she drives me crazy.

At the end of the day, I know, it's just a job. "It's not personal. It's business." I have the line taped to the top of my computer screen. "It's not personal. It's business."

So tomorrow, when I go back to clean up the rest of this mess, I will remember: "It's not personal. It's business"... and I will know my solution, as much as she hates it, was the right decision... and I will know I put up a good fight...



...and I will hope she falls on her ass down the ski hill. Then who will look like the fool?

You can never have too much fleece... can you?

Hi. My name is Liz. And I'm an addict. No, I don't have a drinking problem (no, I really don't!) and no, I do not do drugs or smoke...

What am I addicted to? Fleece. That's right, fleece.

Not only do I have four fleece blankets around my apartment, but I also have two zip-up fleece jackets, a fleece pull-over, and at least one pair of fleece pants. I have a fleece hat and mittens for the winter and wear a fleece coat whether it's the blistering -20 degrees or a pleasant 50.

So tonight, after Allen and I had a lovely dinner of catching up and swapping cookies (yes, we actually went out to the car and traded a bag of cookies - call us crazy, but we love to cook and bake and there's nothing better than sharing and seeing and hearing the delight in others), we decided to stroll around the mall for a while. Not only did it allow us to catch up a little more, but we also had a chance to walk off some of dinner.

Now, I am not the biggest fan of shopping. Allen, however, is. I really had no intentions of buying anything tonight... I really didn't have a need for anything, but there it was... in the window... a bright green, grey underarm, no-pocket or hood, fleece.

We went in. I had to at least look at it. Maybe it would be ridiculously overpriced and therefore out of my league. I tried it on. It was so thin, so soft, so warm. I had to have it. I checked the price. A little more than I wanted to spend, but since it was on sale, at the checkout it would be less. Would I regret not buying it if I get all the way back downtown without the green fleece? Will I have buyer's remorse if I did bring it home... I mean, do I really need another fleece?

Let me introduce you to my new fleece!

Like I said.... my name is Liz. I'm an addict.

Stranger Than Fiction...

At first I was apprehensive… I’m not a huge Will Ferrell fan. I thought this was going to be another one I wasn’t going to enjoy – I thought his character’s little idiosyncrasies and counting and routine were going to put me over the edge and that nothing was going to happen to save this movie from going on the list of other bad movies I’ve slept through on my couch, but call me a fool, was I wrong.

I’m not sure if it was because of the writer trying to finish the novel or the connection between the novel and Will Ferrell’s character or the baker who realized her passion and gave up a promising career to follow her heart or the final moment in the movie when the writer explains why she ended her book the way she did…

There was something in this movie that really got to me.

I finished the movie and wanted no more and no less. It was perfect. After thinking about it all afternoon (amid Liger and Gopher wins!), I realized that this movie had the “Garden State” affect on me. Maybe not as drastically as “Garden State”, but something close. Something I am having a hard time putting into words.

So see “Stranger than Fiction”… and if you haven’t seen “Garden State”, see that too.

* This does not even come close to doing justice to what this movie did to me today, but I think it’s the best I can put out tonight. Forgive me – ask and we can discuss more… but see both movies first.

Finally...

I think my oven is fixed! They replaced the coil today and that should do the trick.

Stay tuned to see what happens when I try to bake this weekend...

The Post-it Always Sticks Twice

When I sat down to write about what happened and the conversation we just had explaining ourselves and really putting it all out there as to why what happened two weeks ago happened, I drew a blank. Not a writer's block blank -- more of a "we exhausted it like many a phone conversation" blank.

All that was left in me was what I fear (and know) I said over and over on the phone tonight. I just couldn't do it anymore. And as much as I know it hurt, I couldn't.

Sometimes things are best said through television. From the moment I realized I had to do what I had to do, all I could think of was when she realized he was gone, looked at her computer screen, and saw the post-it:

I'm sorry. I can't. Don't hate me --

Official Chocolate Chip Cookie Week

I love cookies. There's not much more to that statement. I just love cookies.

This morning when I got to work, I had an email wishing me a Happy Official Chocolate Chip Cookie Week.

Kelly has known me since back in the day when we had gaps between our front teeth and we found humor in red wagons, jumping rope, and making "kitchen creations" out of whatever we found in the spice cabinet. Her mom kept a cookie jar on the kitchen counter just for me, always full of one flavor or another. Her grandma would make me a special bag at Christmas, full of all the holiday classics, since I don't celebrate Christmas and would have missed out on all those cookies. When I went away to college, her mom would send me packages.... of Oreos! So Kelly knew. She knew, without a doubt, that I would appreciate Official Chocolate Chip Cookie Week more than anyone. And while I could not find an official notice on Google, I will take Kelly's word that it is in fact Official Chocolate Chip Cookie Week.

So let's talk about cookies. If someone were to ask me my favorite, I am not sure I could pin one down. Kelly's mom makes a mean Chocolate Chip and an almost-better Chocolate and Peanut Butter Chip. Her grandma makes amazing Christmas Cut-out Cookies with that powdered sugar frosting. My mother makes a mean press cookie, thanks to our amazing Pampered Chef Cookie Press (www.pamperedchef.com). My grandma, a perfect mondelbriet; Molly, wreath cookies that turn everything green; Tristan, Neiman Marcus Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies -- sugar rush, but so amazing; the list goes on and on.

In honor of Official Chocolate Chip Cookie Week, I invite you to share your favorite cookie recipe (chocolate chip or otherwise) with me... I'd love to try them. That is, once I get my oven fixed...

Here's mine for you -- try them and let me know what you think!

CAKE MIX COOKIES

Combine in one bowl:
2 yellow cake mixes - with pudding
2 eggs
2/3 c. oil
6 T water

Combine in another bowl:
1 chocolate cake mix- with pudding
1 egg
1/3 c. oil
4 T water

Add 6 oz. chocolate chips to each mixture

Add chocolate to yellow and stir just enough to get marble effect

Bake at 350 degrees for 12-13 minutes depending on oven

facebook woes...

Ever since Molly signed up for facebook, I’ve said I wasn’t going to do it. I watched her sit at her computer for hours, looking up old classmates, zoning in on our college friends, seeing pictures, hearing about parties, everything facebook has to offer. I watched her and shook my head – I was not going to get sucked into facebook like she was. I was not going to sign up and get addicted. Not for me.

My friends laughed and begged and still, to this day, ask when I am going to join facebook. Believe it or not, there’s even a facebook group to get me to join facebook. Cute, eh. Thanks roomie!

So here’s my dilemma. If I join facebook, I go against everything I have ever said about the network, I become a hypocrite, and I undoubtedly will take a lot of shit from my friends. Yes, you all say you won’t make it a big deal, but I know each and every one of you – you’ll get all up on my wall and say “We knew you’d cave” or “It’s about fucking time” and give me just about as much hell as when I was really dating someone other than one of my boys.

Now, if I continue away from facebook, I fear I will miss out on all the action going on around here. While some of you are good at remembering I am not on facebook and call or email to invite me to events, I know there is a handful of you that, sadly, forget. That – and I guess it would kind of be cool to see what’s going on with everyone – those I went to grade school and high school with and then those of you who I do see on a regular or somewhat regular basis.

So here I am at the corner. What will I do. Will I move over to the dark side or will I stand firm on my belief that facebook is the devil.

I guess we’ll all have to wait and see…