First is Always Better Than Second

This weekend, boyfriendpants and 4 of his b-school buddies competed in a "business bowl", which is a competition between peers on a business case and who can make the best presentation given 4-5 hours to prepare. It is an extremely subjective contest where the same set of judges doesn't even see every contestant in the class--in fact, judges see competitors in several different classes. Freshmen through Grads compete in their respective classes. Their case was reportedly about "fluff", or as I like to call it, Corporate Social Responsbility, and making the argument for (or against) it in terms of profitability.

Since I happen to be knee deep in this sort of data on a day-to-day existence, I was hired as a consultant. (I'm being paid in sexual favors, in case you were wondering). The event also includes some pretty incredible face time and networking opportunities with people in the industry and active recruiters, as those people are chosen as the judges.

The prizes are $350 (to each of 5 team members in each class), $200, and $100 for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd, respectively. So considering all of these facts you probably not surprised to learn that boyfriendpants and company were beyond livid about coming in second. Or maybe you're a rational human being and realize that it's a) a ridiculously subjective test of ability b) not based in fact or accuracy--no factchecking happens c) a great networking opportunity d) that 2nd prize still gets you $40/hour e) it gives you good high-pressure experience and networking opportunities to blow your mind.

Despite the fact that they took full advantage of all the opportunities presented to them, they were still pissed. So the night proceeded with a slightly different flair than we had all hoped for.

In any event, I went on with my life especially having an increased understanding of my firm's place in the market and in the thought leadership realm--a very good solid place, I'll have you know.

Today was more productive than it could have been especially with my renewed sense of purpose and understanding from this weekend's research, but less productive than I expected. First, I left early. Good sign right? Evidently not. It took me 25 minutes to go what is usually a 3 minute T-Ride. So my commute was about 55 minutes instead of 25.

Then I get to work, get in the flow, get things started, finished even, and then the beeping starts. "What is that?" said Michelle. "Oh it's just the copier again" said Kathleen. Then people start evacuating. It's actually the fire alarm. For real this time. And no, it was not my fault, nor was it attributed to anyone in my office despite the fact that our little waffle experiment did go a little haywire last week.

Evidently it was nothing because we were back in the building within 10 minutes. The firetrucks came, but left shortly after.

I get a call about an hour later from boyfriendpants on the subject of accounting. As it turns out, some team in last weekend's competition called a score audit and as a result, it was determined that his team actually won. They came in FIRST in the graduate competition. It was then that I realized that 1st really does feel better than 2nd.

Sorry Sasha.

Lazy

Don't you love a weekend when it's spent with someone you really like all while wearing PJs? Well I do.

And that's what I did. Jeff and I sat on the couch (while playing golf) and ordered food and basically vegged out all weekend. I did a little work from there and eventually did my taxes, but it was a 3-day weekend. There was a lot of time to do nothing, so I took advantage of it. My laundry pile disagrees, and my work load at the office does too, but what are you going to do?

On a sadder note, I just found out that my favorite new show is "on hiatus". So if you love Love Monkey, please tell CBS about it. More importantly Grant was in love and I don't want to have to pick up the pieces of his broken heart, so get on it people!!

Illiteracy and just plain Crazy

Sometimes people don't read. They can and they just refuse. Doesn't that just make you want to scream? That sometimes happens to me too. It's ok, though. You'll get through it.

Best

Yesterday was the best Valentine's Day ever. Hands down.

Jeffrey started it all by bringing me a plant because he'd "already killed enough flowers on the kidney infection" and the biggest card in the store. It's HUGE! Then he took me to the office so that lame girl could get the gift she so carefully picked out and wrapped--and promptly forgot. The Brooks Brothers PJs might have been frightfully similar to the ones her dad received at the office earlier in the day...

Then we had tasty wine, delicious dinner with very good live music, and lively conversation. It's hard to ask for more than that.

And it was good. Very very good.

And he loves the PJs... they were just too big. Tall does not equal Large at BB, evidently. But they're exchanged, so no problem.

Bottom Rung

I'm usually not excited about being on the bottom, but that all changes under different circumstances, doesn't it?

As of today, and I suppose after I complete some paperwork, I will officially be on the Harvard University payroll. After finding out that I nailed the class despite skipping a couple of sessions last semester, I decided it would be fun to try and TA for the class. I was encouraged by Mr. BoyfriendPants and sent my prof an email. As it turns out their enrollment this semester is a record high, so they actually need some some help grading homework. So, she asked me to do that. Not sure how much it pays, but it shouldn't be too bad or too many hours--and who's in that for the money anyway? Good line on the resume--if being lower on the ladder than a TA is good. I also get to remember it which is invaluable.

Who ever thought Anthro/Philo/French-never-took-math-in-college girl's first job in academia would be grading Statistics papers?

Weekend Bliss

Saturday:
Museum of Science. Pizza. Beirut.

Sunday:
Sleep. Sleep. Eat. Sleep.

Monday:
Work. Doctor. . . Discovery of Gnarly infection. . . Cipro. Home. Dozen Roses. Snack. Cuddle. Shrimp Fajita. Cuddle. Sleep.

Tuesday:
Wake. Work. Shop. TV. Lauging at stupid commercials.

Failure

This morning began with battery acid. Yes battery acid gushing out of my wireless mouse. I was going to do some work at home, but no, I spent the earlier part of this morning pouring baking soda into my mouse--and all because I put some stupidly old batteries in the poor thing. Nothing looks quite as helpless as an upside-down open-cased laser mouse.

Then, I got to the T Station where my T pass fell out of my hand and fluttered through the rushing throngs of MIT students eager to make their 9am class. Once I finally caught up to it, I realized that it was February... and my pass was for January. I tried the "I forgot it at home" line, but apparently that only works in college.

"The only thing we can take is a dollar twenty five," said the woman with her entourage of equally un-busy colleagues. So, after realizing that I'd spent my last cash on the coffee that was spilling down my hand, I went back outside to find some more.

Cambridge Trust's ATM was being serviced. They're the closest bank to the T and they decided to service it just before 9am. Now how smart is that? Not smart for me. So I head to BofA, where they committed highway robbery and charged me a whopping $2 just to use their stupid operational cash dispensing machine. Thieves!

So I returned to the T Station at this point sweaty, testy, and getting later by the minute. The unhelpful lady from before is now behind the glass of the collection booth fruitlessly explaining how to get to North Station to some poor, lost girl who I later learned had been "stranded in Boston" and was on her way back to Lawrence. Not quite sure of the whole story, but it involved "her boys" and a "crazy night".

Anyway, I'm late and the train is coming, so I slip my twenty into the collection tray hoping that this somewhat rude gesture will be passed off as someone who really just needs to get to work. The lady looks at me like I'd just cut an old lady in the grocery line and says (after a dramatic pause), "don't you have anything smaller than this?" I couldn't believe it. Isn't this the same woman who just turned me away for having the wrong month's pass in my hand? So I lost it and said incredulously, "Are you kidding me? No I don't have anything smaller."

So of course she takes her sweet time counting out her ones and fives and nickels and dimes so that I'm sure to miss the approaching train. Then she decides she wants to know why I "yelled" at her. I explained that I thought she recognized me from before and knew that I'd just been to the ATM--and that my day just wasn't going right yet.

So we kissed and made up and it was all good.

Then work happened. I was in good spirits until about 6:30 rolled around and I was being constantly asked to do stuff--after a pretty gruelling day. So I did it and left around 7:15--which wouldn't be bad or crazy if I were getting paid $100k and had a better title than "Research Data Analyst" standing behind those hours.

So basically I failed today. I got angry at everyone and nearly burned my fingers off with battery acid.

Luckily, redemption did come in the form of steamed artichokes with some killer roasted garlic butter sauce and chocolate chip cookies.