huh?

So I just spent an exorbitant amount of time choosing a new font for instant messenger when I should have been - cough, cough - working. Because it's borderline embarrassing, I will not reveal how long this selection process took, so let's just settle with "too long". Why did I do this? Because I am bored out of my mind at work right now and it was the only thing within my control to change. You im-ers won't know what hit you when you meet the new and improved Bitstream Vera Sans size 10 font Betsey in a kickin' shade of... navy blue. Can you feel the energy?

So then I got to thinking (again, instead of - cough, cough - working) that, as silly as something like a font change may be, it's only natural to want to tweak the things that we can so as not to be perpetually stuck in a monotonous wake-work-eat-sleep-repeat cycle. Now don't interpret this badly... I don't at feel stuck in a mundane routine and I am FAR from bored. In fact, I'm pretty damn happy. I'm just bored at work right now and feeling a tad over-caffeinated!

Anyways, unless you're a nomadic hippie - which believe me would be appealing if not for the inevitability of b.o. and offspring with names like Rainbow and Ocean - it's natural for life to become a little less up to you and a little more up to others (government, bosses, etc.). After all, society tells us it's a sign of maturity to wake up and be a productive member of society instead of living in a perpetual college mindset of "eh, I'll skip life today because I'm hungover". Blurry flashbacks of rocking out on the air guitar to "Summer of '69" on top of a beer pong table are funny when you're 22 but, when you're a balding 45-year old with no steady job but with a steadily expanding beer gut, that same scenario loses its comical edge and lands you a spot in pathetic creepster territory.

I think this need to exert control over the little things is also why so many women end up with shorter and shorter haircuts as they get older. Sure, they'll say it's for purposes of easier maintenance given that they don't have enough time to primp their mane as much as they once did. This is, of course, valid. I, however, think it has more to do with them feeling that - between working, grocery shopping, driving the kidlets to soccer practice, paying bills, packing school lunches, walking the dog, etc. - the hair is one of those few precious things that you can do whatever the frijoles you want with and it won't complain, cry, bark or grow mold. And, since you can't grow your hair in the snap of a finger and the snip-snip of a pair of scissors, shorter is the only way to go. Once the kids have moved out and the hair can't go any shorter, it means it's time to retire, sell the house and dedicate your days to bingo and grandkids.

Where am I going with this? I have no effing clue, although now that I think about it, I think this sporadic urge to "change things up" is also at the core of why I get deliriously giddy about buying new socks.

5 work necessities of today's modern age

... by a semi-disgruntled worker

Caffeine
Between coffee, diet coke and an occasional tea, my intake of various caffeine-infused libations essentially sets the structure for each work day. For example, 11:45am means time for a 1/2-hour coffee at the bar downstairs. If it's the start of the day and you don't yet see a mug of steaming energy in my hands, don't even think about asking me to get elbow-deep in html code, repetitive price tables and commercial writing jam-packed with enthusiasm, cheesy adjectives and an obscene amount of exclamation marks.

Post-its
While I have spent a lifetime practicing the art of writing notes on my hands, post-it notes bring all sorts of joy to my life. Even when we were young'ns playing office, the best parts were easily: 1) speaker-phoning each other, 2) ignoring the phrase "no, don't touch that", and 3) rummaging through my dad's supply closet and swiping legal pads, pens and post-its. At work, post-its literally frame my computer screen and part of the wall. Plus, making bulleted lists in pretty colors gives me a false feeling of productivity.

Snacks
Here at my job, we eat our feelings. Stress, boredom, frustration... all roads lead to cookies.

Facebook
What better way to procrastinate than by compulsively clicking refresh to see who, in the past 45 seconds, a) has gotten hitched, b) has broken up, c) has popped out a few puppies, d) blacked out last weekend, e) has posted new pictures, f) has changed jobs, g) has joined facebook... and so on and so forth. It's essential that I know, since we are clearly so intimately close that I don't know first-hand.

Sense of humor
That way, when wintry days arise in which neither the heat nor the internet work (kind of important, when you work in the company's internet department), you can just say 'hey, if penguins have no need for heat or functioning technology, neither do I.' Rad.

my guilty pleasures

-Little Mermaid. Whenever I had a bad day in college, my go-to remedy was to just pop my old school Little Mermaid tape into my old school VCR, nestle into my top bunk and prepare to recite the lines, belt out the songs (off-key, of course) and swoon over that dreamy Prince Eric. Hubba hubba.

-Caffeine. I love it, I need it, I crave it. End of story.

-Chips and fries. Whether crunchy and rippled or golden, crispy and soft, if it's a potato product (deep-fried in a vat of grease, naturally) that I can eat by the handful, then it figures into this list. Actually, if they're mashed I can make a potato volcano and hell- who doesn't like to reenact the destruction of Pompeii with butter lava and a doomed and unsuspecting pile of peas. Mwa ha ha.

-Jeans. Now, this in no way means that I own half a million pairs of jeans. In fact, I own two. However, since I rotate between the same two trusty pairs, I've come to the conclusion over the past year or two that spending a li'l extra for a good brand and a pair that you really like is worth not eating for a week.

-Porn. I don't know how I'd ever get through a whole day without some hard-core, whip-wielding... jusssssst kidding Dad.

-Facebook and MySpace. I like to stalk, and I'm not embarrassed about it. By the way, if you have your MySpace set to private, you're on my shit list. (Insert angry growl)

-Celebrity gossip blogs. Good god, I'm hooked. During college, I scoffed and rolled my eyes at Deana's subscription to Us Weekly and her non-stop chatter about the lives of LA's finest. Today, I could easily get you all up to date on who's dating (Whitney Houston and Brandy's little brother!), who's pregnant (Bridget Moynihan, ex-girlfriend of Patriots hottie Tom Brady, is 3 months preggers with an itty-bitty-Brady... I guess from one last pre-breakup romp in the hay) and who is in rehab (well, the now bald trainwreck otherwise known as Britney Spears was in rehab for less than a day). Don't even get me started with the Anna Nicole debacle.

***update: Brit-Brit is BACK in rehab
***update #2: Brit-Brit checked OUT of rehab again

-Bookstores. Ok, so reading is good for you so I guess there's technically no reason to classify visiting bookstores as a guilty pleasure. Even so, get me into a Barnes & Noble or a Borders and I can easily occupy myself for hours reading book covers... and subsequently doing some pretty serious damage to my bank account. Over Christmas break, I spent well over $100 in books and earned some major points on my Borders rewards card.

-Tom Jones. Cheesy, yes. In love with his own chest hair, definitely. However, nothing puts a smile on my face quite like a little "What's New Pussycat (whoa whoa whoaaaa)" or "Sex Bomb." Plus, without Tom Jones there would be no Carlton dance, and that would be a true television tragedy.

-Chocolate. I'm a girl... it's an inherent part of having two X chromosomes.

-Days of Our Lives. I hate the concept of a soap opera and I hate the idea of obese middle-aged women sitting home in their floral-printed muumuus and completely losing touch with reality by getting way too involved in the lives of fictional characters. Yet whenever I'm home I inevitably gravitate to the tv at that 1:00 mark to find out who on Days of Our Lives has been killed / been kidnapped / had a baby / come back to life / had a scandalous affair / lost their memory / found out that their lover is actually their sister and therefore that their son is actually their own half brother... and so forth and so on.

-Breakfast Club, Dirty Dancing, & Co. The kick-ass music brings you back to your childhood; the characters and storylines make you feel warm and happy inside; and the hair and clothing trends of the 80's make you feel stylish.