Things are still rough for loved ones (yes, plural) - let's just say cancer sucks. Thank you for all of your kind wishes. Now, in attempt to cheer myself up, and any others who may just want to laugh, this post is for us.
Last night I went to a small event that was a fundraiser for an organization where I am on the board. Its mission overlaps with that of my organization, and I dragged 16 people I know through work to this event. It was nice to be informal and joke around (some helped by wine), and I found out two things I had in common with someone I know because of legislative stuff: 1. he is a preacher's kid like me, and 2. fuck is also his favorite word.
Don't ask me how this came up. But I got to show everyone pictures of a shirt that my dad designed and sent just for me!
Yes, I do have the coolest dad ever. My friend asked me to let him know that she's up for adoption.
I'm thinking about things that pop into my head that I would like to make standardized, socially appropriate questions. Last night one of the guests emailed me two hours before the dinner, asking what to wear. I suggested business casual. OK, fine. Then she texts me twenty minutes after the event started. "Where do I park?"
To which I wanted to reply, "Are you a grownup?"
I got into it once again with our national organization today. Never mind the fact that the big event in May was the biggest one we've ever had, and is on track to raise more than we've ever raised. Here's the conversation, shorthand:
Him: You have XX number of participants who haven't raised any money.
Me: Actually most of them have. But the website is difficult sometimes, so they send in checks rather than raise money online.
Him: Why aren't they posting the information about check donations on their own web pages?
Me: Refer to my earlier response.
Him: Why don't you do it for them? (Background: around 1,800 people register for the event online. He's asking me to manually enter every fucking check for them on their individual web pages so they can show their friends. There are about $26,000 in checks so far.)
Him: Other sites do it. (I'm sure a similar argument has been made for putting firecrackers up your ass, would you do that?)
Me: I don't have time to hold the hands of 1,800 people who can't figure out your (shitty) website.
Him: Don't you have volunteers?
Me: Yeah - and here are the 100 more valuable things they do for us, like help people get resources when they're in crisis. You know, we have a lot more going on than this event.
Him: I hear that a lot.
Me: And you know why? Because it's true!
And then I said this, verbatim:
"Frankly, I don't give a flying fuck what other sites do. I'm grumpy and I don't appreciate you chewing on me, and I'm not talking about this anymore!"
But being able to use the words "flying fuck" at work was rather satisfying, as was the fact that I knew my boss would approve. In fact, I think that should be a socially acceptable standardized reply to asinine requests as well.
Wouldn't you agree?