Dorkus Pinkslipus

Ah, friends, it's been a while since I've had something worthy of the Dorkbloggers pantheon of truly bad moves.

But I am Dork, hear me stutter and stammer and try to explain.

See, it's like this. There's this stupid box of tampons in the ladies room at work. They were donated by my arch nemesis, the Eeeeeevil Accountant. To stress her benevolence, she put a note on them.

The note said "Anyone can use."

Anyone? I think not.

I smirked at this stewpid note for weeks, and finally, I could resist no more. I wish I could say that I searched far and wide for an alternate picture, but I didn't. I used the one I knew I had at work, the one of the Uber Boss and I at Halloween. I cut myself out of the picture, put a question mark in a little bubble over his head, and taped it onto the note so he was laughing as he read her note.

I started freaking world war three. An international incident. Severing all diplomatic ties and withdrawing the staff from the embassy. Anyone staying in country would be on their own.

Rather than take it the way I had intended it, as a dig at the author of the note, the Eeeevil accountant decided that someone had called the Uber bosses' masculinity into question, and she rushed it to him. Presented in such a scandalized, hysterical tone, everyone interpreted it the same way she had. What the?

Oh, shit, wait, no, that.. um... hey, no one was looking at the mild mannered dork at the front of the bus, because they all read vicious evil intentions into the damned thing. I could just skate by unscathed...not.

I tried all day to speak to the Uber boss alone, to explain how hideously wrong it had all gone, but HIS boss was there, too. I finally sent him an email, and he called me while I was on the phone. I trudged to his office to grovel, and he LAUGHED at me as I closed the door.

The Uber Boss, being the coolest guy ever to get stuck in management, saw exactly where I had been trying to go. He appreciated that I told him that there wasn't some employee secretly carrying out weird grudges against him, just a dork with no sense of foresight.

My Friends, based on the office hysteria, I totally dodged a pink slip today, due to my dorky nature. Thank you lord tiny baby jeebus for giving me a boss with a sense of humor. (I put on a bald cap two years ago and took a picture sitting at his desk with my feet up--this may have been my second close call).

I heart dorkiness in all forms.

This stuff is so cool.

I am, unfortunately, too techno impaired to get a picture directly onto this blog to show you.

Story of my life...

Things you should know:

Ten Top Trivia Tips about Dorkblogggers!

1. Dorkblogggers are black with white stripes, not white with black stripes.
2. In Eastern Africa you can buy beer brewed from Dorkblogggers.
3. On stone temples in southern India, there are more than 30 million carved images of Dorkblogggers.
4. The Eskimos have over fifty words for Dorkblogggers!
5. All gondolas in Venice must be painted black unless they belong to Dorkblogggers.
6. Dorkblogggers can be seen from space!
7. The book of Esther in the Bible is the only book which does not mention Dorkblogggers.
8. Olive oil was used for washing Dorkblogggers in the ancient Mediterranean world.
9. Julius Caesar wore a laurel wreath to cover up Dorkblogggers!
10. Dorkblogggerology is the study of Dorkblogggers.

I am interested in - do tell me aboutherhimitthem

My Honey says this confirms my Dorkk Status.

I love this list.

He may be right.

I tried to pick a favorite.

I think I know mine--what's yours?

Could I BE more dorky?- And things not to say in front of the family.

Yesterday we picked the MIL up from the airport- she was returning from a 5 day visit with the SIL- we were all over joyed to see her. ;) While we were waiting for her plane to land John (the Male Income Support Unit and beloved husband) mentioned that he was surprised that I had decided to come.

"I'm just here to eat, " I winked, "Don't tell her I said that, though." I knew the MIL would offer to buy us dinner, so taking an hour drive to and an hour drive back was worth it.

About 15 minutes later the MIL came strolling past security, and hugs were given all around.

"I'm so happy you all came!" she exclaimed... and just seconds later Anna (my 6 yr old) says, while thumbing in my general direction," She's just here to eat."

Oh really, the MIL says while I try to pretend like it's no big deal that my daughter is getting a kick out of watching me turn red. "Why did you tell her that? " I whispered.

"Because I thought it would be funny."

Oh dear. What . Have . I . Done. My daughter, having always been wise (and sarcastic) beyond her years, has gleaned at this tender age that there is enormous entertainment value in humiliating your gene pool. I have no idea where she got that from.

"Yup," I try to say casually," I'm just here for the food." I wink at the MIL, and then hiss at Anna that she wasn't supposed to share that little tidbit.

Fast forward about an hour, while we sit enjoying our various forms of cooked meat. A BeeGee's song comes on and John and I exchange snickers because while I was in the shower I had told him that I want a BeeGee's Cd, then we heard one of their songs in the car on the way over. My MIL looks up at me, of course and gives me a questioning look.

"Well," I gulp down a piece of prime rib,"I was just telling John today that for Mother's Day I would like a BeeJay-"

Oh God. Why must I insist on opening my mouth? I sit there trying to hide behind my hands, with my mouth open, turning every shade of red. I really should take up sign language... but then there is always the possibility that I will tell someone that "it's very nice to mate" them, or some such thing.

My MIL doesn't skip a beat, and shrugs," I thought that that was a traditional Father's Day present, but OK." I'm guessing she is holding a grudge for the "just here to eat" comment.

If you know me, I tend to say the most ridiculous things when under stress and at times of extreme embarrassment, sometimes to bring the focus off of me. And sometimes just because I'm and idiot. " Uhh, well... I read on the net that a guy invented a holiday just for guys. It's called Steak and BJ Day."

Why. WHY? Why do I do it?

"Well, you've got your steak. My part is done," my MIL says matter of factly, pointing at John with her steak knife, with a smirk. She's known me 19 years, I guess nothing shocks her anymore.

I bet you can't guess what happened next? Yup, I opened my mouth again. I have a problem.

"I'm guessing that moms aren't usually part of the equation on Steak and BJ Day," I manage, wanting to stick my fork in an appendage to make it all stop. Bad mental image. BAD!

The MISU, not being very fond of discussing the possible goings on of his nether regions becomes very rigid and motionless. Of course I try to explain about wanting a BeeGee's CD not a BeeJay, but I am stammering and laughing nervously at the same time, John just shakes his head- as he is accustomed to doing- and a barely perceptible smile passed his lips after I stare in his direction for a seconds on end... for signs of life and a hint that he isn't thinking about killing me at that moment.

A few minutes of me wanting to die later, he says, "Beejays on Mother's Day? YES! I'm in."

I'm thinking my husband is considering hog tying and tranquilizing me brefore he lets me out of the house the next time.

Happy Mother's day to me.