Cooler than You: Stupid Things I Say and Do

In 1981 I was a kindergartner, in all my glory.  Back then, my family and I lived in Tacoma, Washington and I went to a school with oodles of other military and working class kids.  None-the-less, there was one day I particularly remember a glimpse of in the forefront of my mind.  I was in the front office, rather ill, and the secretary needed my name to look up my contact info.  I gave her my name, and she promptly told me that I could not be correct.  She added a V to the first name, while subtracting a N, and added a K to the last.  My name is NOT Vanessa Babick.  My name is Annessa Babic, and it always has been.  Needless to say, she yelled at me.  She also refused to believe the phone numbers I gave her.  Mind you, my parents had gotten me an ID bracelet with my address and phone number on it (we lived on A Street, thank-you very much).  My father had made me memorize his work number by the time I was three or so.  Clearly...

There's a semi-infamous scene from Office Space where the waiter, at the mock TGI Fridays, says " Sounds like a case of the Mondays ?" He makes a dorky frown face, talks in a deranged voice, and provides a moment of asshat humor.  All in all, the guy is just a little too happy for a chain restaurant waiter . . . or any waiter for that matter.  Well, I can't say that I have a case of the Mondays, but it has been a Monday . I woke up this morning to the roommate's dog throwing up in front of the bathroom door.  Apparently, she ate a toy--the arms and legs specifically--and then decided to greet us with it this am.  Lovely. On the way in I spilled seltzer water, maybe it was coffee once I got to the office.  Luckily I had on a girly, semi-frilly, and gauzy blouse in deep purple.  So instead of a large gonorrhea looking lactated stain on my right boob, I had a dark circle on the right breast.  Either way, I sported the lactating look all day.  I ...