It's Bonus Time on Wall Street

My initial reaction, along with every other professional across America, was utter horror and disgust upon reading about Wall Street's record bonus season (Goldman Sachs CEO Lloyd Bankfien = $53.4 million bonus). This lump sum of money, which is more than 99% of the population will earn in their lifetimes, could never (ever) be rationalized (the highest paid editor at The New York times makes less than the lowest paid analyst at Goldman Sachs). Seriously. Hello.

I thought I'd conduct a little research and try and understand what exactly it is investment bankers do before continuing to express my furry, so I looked it up on Wikipedia and I still have no clue. What the fuck do investment bankers do? What outrageously valuable commodity do they provide that is rewarded with such outlandish bonuses? Every time I ask someone in the financial industry what they do they usually claim their job entails "a lot of Excel." I could easily fuck around with a couple of spreadsheets, make some trades and toss around other peoples' money - how hard could this job be?

It's times like these I wish Doc Brown really existed so I could go back ten years and pummel some sense into my 18-year-old head when it was thinking: "You know what? Ramen noodles truly are an underappreciated delicacy. Writing it is!"

Fuck.

Best. Headline. Ever.

(cnn.com)

Another Open Letter

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

You read my blog a lot. My tracking software tells me exactly how often. It’s a lot. Hello.

I didn’t call you back last night because, in case you don’t remember, we are not speaking.

Additionally, I find it pretty sad that you don’t know the difference between “affect” and “effect.” It is even sadder that you would leave me a voice message admitting you don’t know the difference between “affect” and “effect”. It's so sad, infact, I may actually have called you back to explain it if I didn't know first hand that you have a Webster's Dictionary in your "office" which you could have easily referred to instead of leaving these 2nd Grade inquiries on my voice mail.

Tis' The Season

If there is one thing I detest about the Holiday Season, its shopping. Don't get me wrong, I am a girl and I do like to buy stuff - but Christmas Shopping usually means I have to go the the mall. I hate the mall.

Apart from the obvious reasons (mass production items), I hate the mall because I cannot stand running into the people I would otherwise be happy to never see again. When I do spot these "people" I usually just look the opposite way and pray they don't see me .. but my friends usually want to flag the person down and "catch up" - not for any genuine reasons of course, they just like to be able to compare their life stats.

So, this Saturday I was shopping with my friend Renata- we're on the escalator heading to the third level of the mall and she spots "S" - this chick we went to highschool with. She also has 4 kids with 3 different guys (which in itself is fascinating but not enough to make me want to stop and talk to her).

Renata is all: "OMG! There's "S" - let's go talk to her!"

Me: "No. No. No. No. No."

"S" spots us, and is looking right into my face as I am still saying "No. No. No"

Renata: "Heeyyyyyy! How are you?? OMG, its been soooo long!"

As their meaningless banter is exchanged I am standing there - with a forced half smirky-smile on my face .... This is all I am capable of. I can't even muster up a "Hi, how are ya?" The words just feel trapped in my chest. Maybe not "trapped" so much as really fucking lazy. Like they just smoked a huge bowl and can't be persuaded to come out unless it involved pizza or Doritos. Because I have neither, the words aren't gonna budge. If I do somehow get them out, they feel awkward and forced ... and soooooo obviously fake.

So I choose to stand there - watching as Renata and "S" have the most insincere conversation I have ever witnessed. Then "S" turns to me and says: "So, whats up with you??"

Me: "Nothing. I'm really sick right now."

"S": "Ya, you look it."

Bitch.

Renata and "S" exchange good-byes, promises to hook up, "Email me, bitch!" "For sure!" Blah. Blah. Blah.

The second we're out of ear shot:

Renata: "What a fucking loser."

There's 5 minutes of my life I'll never get back. Perfect.

Organic Cereal Eaters = Better Human Beings

As I was eating my cereal dinner yesterday, I read the most RIDICULOUS claim on the bottom of my favorite cereal box ...

.."10% of Profits Donated to Peace."

Now, I'm no philantropist ... but I’m pretty fucking sure you can’t just donate money to PEACE .... if you could, I would have already made a huge donation to PROBLEMS THAT MAKE ME SAD.