Jan 03 2008
I’m Absolutely Not Fishing
If any of you were to meet me face to face (yes, there was that one blog date with Marianne and Kristabella), you’d probably look at me, think about the title of this blog and say, “Who the hell does she think she’s kidding? Hot? Meh!”. I mean, I’m not ugly or deformed (my Lebanese nose notwithstanding), I’m proportioned alright for my 5′9″ (and shrinking, apparently) height. I have a normal head of hair nowdays (alopecia areata ever lurking, but currently not flaring), and I’m a fairly upbeat and confident person.
Mr. Hot coined the title of this blog (bless his blind eyes heart, he really does think I’m hot) and since I AM the only female in my peer group, I thought it was as appropriate as anything else I was going to come up with. After all, even I can say that if you were to walk into our staff meeting, and you were a heterosexual male or a lesbian, and you had to pick the hottest manager, you’d probably pick me. (I’m not laying any bets on the bisexual among us.)
To go with these fair-to-middling looks, I have a short temper and can get very, very impatient when I want something now. I’ve been told that I take a very condescending tone when I’m trying to explain a concept or if I have to repeat myself. There are people I don’t like and won’t ever like, even though they’ve done nothing bad to me or mine. And I can’t change my opinion of them.
But, I will hug you when you’re down, and I will gladly give you $5 to put gas in your car. I will try to say the right things, things to make you feel better. Or, I will say nothing at all if it’s what you need. I will be honest, but not cruelly so. I will be your cheerleader. I will be your friend.
I love my family dearly. They have their faults. They’re not perfect.
Mr. Hot can be an ass. He has a short temper, and the memory of an elephant. He’s self-centered. He’s never, ever wrong. He is also one of the most forgiving people I know. He would give you the shirt off of his back. He truly hurts for the world; the poor, the sick, the mistreated. I’ve seen him so overcome with emotion that he has to walk away from a newspaper story until he can stop crying enough to read again.
Shortman is unmotivated by anything except World of Warcraft. He “forgets” homework and blames others for mistakes. Nothing is his fault. He has the typical smart mouth of a teenager and the carelessness that comes from thinking that he is immortal. He’s also unfailingly polite to everyone around him (save his parents) and will drop whatever he’s doing to give you a hand (except me and Mr. Hot) if you ask. He is more tolerant than any 16 year old I know. He has the infectious laugh of a toddler - you can’t hear his cackle without breaking into a grin.
Now, before you get all “Oh, Hotfessional, we think you’re beautiful” - Please STOP. (And I scream that in the nicest, sweetest way possible.) That’s NOT why I wrote what I wrote. It’s to give you some background for what I’m really here to write about today.
Lizarita! wrote a post about Faux Bloggers. Today, I’m dealing with Faux Families - specifically, someone who works for me (we’ll call her Blondie) and her daughter (and let’s call her Brainy).
Blondie takes up far too much of my time raving about her perfect life with her perfect children and her perfect 2nd husband. The perfect children (Brainy and ‘The Athlete’) are from her first marriage. Nothing that these children do is ever wrong. They are the shiny stars of the universe. Harvard and Yale are apparently courting them left and right, mainly because the ivy will simply whither up and die if Brainy and The Athlete don’t matriculate from their hallowed halls.
So, this morning, Blondie regales me of when Brainy first started preschool, at age 4, after The Athlete was born. And this conversation occurred about 3 weeks after Brainy graced them with her presence :
Miss Preschool Teacher: “Why is Brainy here?”
Blondie: “What do you mean? She’s going to kindergarten next year and she needs to be around more kids than just the ones at the babysitter’s house.”
Miss Preschool Teacher: “But she can write her name. And she can read. She can use scissors.”
Blondie: “So?”
Miss Preschool Teacher: “Well, she could TEACH preschool!”
Now, you see how craftily Blondie did that? She wasn’t the one bragging on her kid, the Teacher was the one heaping the praise. Brainy is now a senior in high school, and she obviously could teach those Ivy-League professors a thing or two. Sigh.
These encounters happen nearly every day. It has come to the point where I don’t even stop by her desk to say hi, or talk to her about Shortman (he and Brainy go to the same school). I’ve tried, when she comes in my office and starts up, clicking through emails and telling her I really have to get such-as-such finished. Lately, I close my door for a good 2-3 hours (which I hate doing!) simply to save myself the aggravation.
It’s not that she’s not doing her work (There’s woefully little work to be done some days, unfortunately, due to our ’short term tenure’ here.) so writing her up or reminding her of work to be done is useless. I’ve told her, on some days, “Look, since you have everything finished, why don’t you go ahead and go home for the rest of the day.” just to be rid of her. But it’s not fair to the rest of my crew, who may also be done, but stick around in case they’re needed.
What I really wanted to say this morning was, “Y’know, I was reading when I was 3 because I was the only child in a house full of adults who had nothing better to do than play with me and read to me until my mother came home from work and my dad came home from the Marines. I have a cookbook where I copied letters when I was 2. My stepdaughter graduated 2nd in her class of 500 and my stepson qualified for Honors College. Mr. Hot skipped kindergarten and got straight A’s through 11th grade. Shortman could read when he was 4 - and was the most popular kid in preschool because he was NICE and POLITE and a good colorer!”
Whew. Breathe. Thanks.
I was a mom before playdates became popular. I was a full-time student in my first new flush of motherhood. Then I started working with a bunch of men and didn’t hang around other Moms. I don’t know how to deal with people who live in La-La-Land Perfectsville. So I ask you, my dears. What would you do? Have you run across these people? Other than firing Blondie’s ass (highly unlikely to be approved by HR) or duct-taping her mouth first thing every morning, do you have any advice?
—- And Oh Mah Holy Hell people. Over 1200 words and I signed up to do this for 362 more days? I either need to apologize or pray that I didn’t use up my syllable quota. —-
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The medications work faster if you split them if they are capsules, or grind them up if they are tablets.
I am sure they will start working any minute now.
Feel better?
LOL, yeah, only 364 more days to go, whoops, its a leap year, 365 days!
Ignore. That’s my advice. Her life is not perfect, don’t let her get to you.
Heidi
As a preschool teacher who works with a lot of preschool teachers, I can honestly say that we have never once questioned why a “brilliant” child is in preschool. Usually, the kids who can already do the work are absolute spoiled rotten brats and need to be taught some decent social skills.
I would just ignore, ignore, ignore. I actually requested to stop working with one of my assistants because I couldn’t listen to one more play by play of her daughter’s soccer games.
Oh Hotfessional… we think you’re pretty!
Couldn’t resist.
Ummm… Blondie probably doesn’t have many friends. That’s what I’m guessing. I’m a mom and all, but I really hate hearing about other people’s kids constantly.
I’m ashamed to admit this but I did say this to one of those women (I just couldn’t take it anymore) with a smile and a sweet tone: “Well honey those kids of yours are practically parenting THEMSELVES, with the time you have on your hands you must be getting laid EVERY DAY!” She never spoke to me again. I’m just sayin
As cliche as this may sound, maybe she is like that because she is insecure. Typically, bragging like that is a tell-tale sign of insecurity. Maybe she never got praise as a child. Maybe her perfect 2nd husband doesn’t pay much attention to her. Maybe she is just about “looking the part” than actually participating in real life.
If anything, feel sorry for her. Tell her sarcastically one day that you wish your life was a perfect as hers. Maybe that will shut her up. I feel for you. This situation usually doesn’t have an answer unless you have the balls to tell her to shut her bragging face and get back to work. I do have a friend that would be happy to do that for you though… I could let you borrow her.
First of all, I would still totally come live with you.
Second, I have many of the same issues (including the child obsessed with WoW with a smart mouth who blames everyone else for his mistakes). I have never really been a Mom’s mom…I tried playdates with the “Newcomers Club” when we moved into our town, but the women were all stuck up and wouldn’t talk to me. Imagine that! So I stopped going to those.
I’m the last person to give you advice about how to handle Blondie, though. I knew a person like that, who I eventually was so rude to, she stopped talking to me. It served its purpose, but probably not the best tack to take in an office environment.
What I would probably do is keep my cell phone under my desk and call my office phone the minute I was done with the conversation. Nothing breaks up a meeting faster than that call you have to take.
Give it right back to her, short and sweet.
A co-worker of mine went on and one about how perfect her baby was and what a good father her husband was - the kid was 3 months old at the time. Needless to say, there was no room for any discussion about my children or my husband.
One morning, she was yammering about how the wonderful the baby was the night before - he just stared and stared at his father for the longest time without even blinking. I couldn’t take it any more so I told her my dog did the same thing, except that he was staring at a pork chop.
That felt g-o-o-o-o-o-d . It didn’t stop her from continuing that behavior, but it freed me to realize that I wasn’t obliged to listen to it.
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When people tell me they have a perfect life, perfect kids, perfect job, blah blah blah - I tend to remember that more than likely the old addage: “If something sounds too good, it is” Also, like AngelH28 said, this chick must be insecure. I would just chime in with the rest here and say “ignore”. Noone is perfect - not even the Pope. Everyone has faults and skelatons. You won’t have to deal with Blondie for long
Just keep the door shut or muzzle her in the morning.
Well, not only are you hot, but you smell nice.
Ass Burger Boy knows better than to try for my undivided attention when I’m typing. (It’s always about his WoW exploits) When I want to be left alone (and really, there is only so much WoW convo I can handle, because the eyes, they do glaze over) I just keep typing. When she comes in, start typing like mad. On your blog. You made that insane commitment, remember?
You still smell nice.
I’d tell Blondie to get the fuck out of my office and not to forget her pics of Brainy while she was at it.
Not really.
Unfortunately not everyone gets the hint and sometimes, as much as you’d rather stab her in the eye with a Number 2 pencil, you have to just put up with her. And Brainy.
And I’m Lebanese, too! Woot for the Middle Eastern Bitches!!
Oh, good grief. Women like Blondie give the rest of us a bad name.
My first reaction to broads like that is to say something like, “I can’t imagine the burden of raising perfect children. But the Lord gives us what we can handle.”
She clearly is lonely, not to mention socially awkward. So maybe the subtlety of a retort such as “Shortman finally learned to tie his own shoes. Boy, are we relieved!” might escape her. But I’ve ben known to say things like that to my braggart friends.
Oh yes, I know people like that. In the first place, you may notice that I rarely discuss my kids, or even much of anything personal on my blog. Not because I’m not proud, or that I don’t think my kids are brag-worthy, but because if I can’t stand to read a blog that is 100% about someone’s kid and his every bowel movement I can hardly expect other people to read that drivel on my blog.
I think a lot of the time when people do that it’s to pre-empt others from doing the same. Motherhood is extremely competitive. Some people have been really torn down by others in those departments and are trying to compensate by getting gratification in those areas from another source. I’m betting Blondie has a MIL from hell, or that her perfect husband and kids are really about the opposite of what she says and she’s living in a fantasy world.
Oh Hot. I understand.
And this was another reason I started blogging… I get my fill of yammering on about my child (although he is not perfect, just perfect for us!), without scaring off the general public.
Maybe suggest to Blondie to start blogging? Either that or she needs therapy to figure out what she us trying to cover up…
My suggestion would be “smile and nod”, either that or pointedly ignore her no matter where she makes her attempt to speak to you. She will go away eventually.
In all honesty, she probably does talk about all that stuff in her “life” because she is either insecure with her position in this world or truely longs in her heart of hearts for her life to be the perfection that she makes it out to be.
Maybe she has no one else to talk to outside of work. Maybe she thinks of you as a friend. Maybe she “idolizes” you and thinks that your life is wonderful, and therefore feels that she must overemphasize her own life simply to feel worthy. Maybe she is just being malicious and wants to make others feel like tiny, unworthy creatures while making herself feel extremely important.
The thing is that you will never truely know why she says the things she does. You can only control the way in which you respond.
She works there too? Shit she can get around! I sit NEXT TO the woman. But she is short, dark haired and Italian…. and Arianna is the most perfect child on earth and HAS to go to the most expensive school in the area.
Imagine how her head exploded when darling Ari told us she wanted to be a hairdresser.
*snort*
smootches babe. Just punch her in the head.
I have to agree with Cheri - you can only control how you react to her. I have one here in the office that tried to push her attitude around with me and that was it. So now when she tries to talk to me I continue to work and just nod and chuckle every once ina while, but honestly, it is going in one ear and out the other.
BTW, I dont’ care how ugly you are (physically) you still make me laugh, and we all need that. (Obviously joking about the ugly too!)
Just smile and nod. Don’t engage her any more than you need to.
Then one day hopefully, her head will explode from all the perfectness and you won’t have to worry about it.
Come on! You’re catty enough to take on a dozen Blondies! I’d have responded to the Preschool Brag:
Wow. I’ve heard that gifted and overachieving children can be a real challenge. Have you found that to be true?
No?
Well then Little Precious sounds just too good to be true, doesn’t she?
(Spoken with enough Southern Sugar and Midwestern Bluntness, Blondie will walk away completely unsure of whether you’ve complemented her or insulted her. Enough of this response and she’ll fear speaking to you altogether. Which is the desired result, right?)
P.S. I HATE people like this!
Love what Melissa said. I think that could actually be worth a shot. I do so love it when you insult someone and they are really not sure if you did or not. They keep away and you made it happen without being a TOTAL bitch (or at least they think so….lol)
I swear I did not do a search for this page, but I stumbledupon it, and it’s perfect:
http://marvin.ibest.uidaho.edu/~heckendo/usefulPhrases.html
I might just bookmark this one!
Arghhh! She would drive me mad.
Not sure that I have any good advice for you, although the duct tape sounds like a good plan!
Sally…
great post…I look forward to reading more! thanks alot!…