Alright.


I've seen some stupid stuff regarding school information listed on a resume, but yesterday afternoon's resume from "Kevin" is up there as scariest.


This was it:

"High school:  garaduated with a dipoloma"

Oh, and lest I not leave out the phrase listed after that....

"Lenguaje: enlish, spanish  ."

"Let's call him!"

Said no one, ever.

Perhaps he should go apply at Dairy Queen

Purple People Eaters

Did you ever want to see what an exterminator's resume looks like?

Yeah, neither did I, but I got one baby, so we're ALL gonna get to experience this ridiculousness, TOGETHER.


This is an exact, word for word, representation of "Pat's" resume, sent to me last Friday.
I'm using the name Pat because the name was one of those "could go either direction" kinda names. 
And I use the phrase "word for word" loosely as the spelling is so atrocious, these don't really count for words in my brain. 
(Perhaps Pat's been sniffing too many chemicals? I dunno...)

So keeping in mind again, this could be a boy exterminator 

Or a girl exterminator  

"Expirenced exterminator/tech.

proven customer  service skills .

excellent a time management of my route.

expirenceed in ants.roaches , bees,my specialty is rats.and lately spiders  , Im the go to on spider and rats  .

I am not afraid of dogs or uncomfortable going into backyards that are unfimilar.

I  ve been exterminating for over 15 years, I  ve done extensive termite work as well as pest control.Im always ready to help my co workers and love my customers.I have many awards from past employment to back this up.I am looking for a long term place to advance stability.I have my applicators license and I did have my branch 2,however I accidntly let expire,although my appictors current."

And there you have it ladies and gentlemen!
A lovely exterminator that's not afraid of dogs, bugs, rats, or wandering into your "unfimilar" backyard... but seems to have a great aversion to the almighty apostrophe!

Poor Mr. Apostrophe... just sitting there all useless-like, waiting to be used....

And while I have NO clue what this person expects me to do with them regarding my company, I will share this diddy that all us older people have already heard, but the younger readers here may not have. (And seeing as how I'm here to edu-ma-kate people on some level, I felt it my duty to place that link in this post.)

Did you know that the bug in that song isn't purple himself, but he eats purple people?

Neither did I. All these years I had it wrong. 

I guess I just edu-ma-kated myself.

Ha!


  

It's Meanie Monday Baby!

Ah the Meanies.

I struggle with these posts - I don't exactly know why except that if I wanted to get all psychological on my own self, I figure it's probably because they are traumatic enough when I receive the offending message in the first place, so to have to stare at it and analyze it again to write a blog posting makes me...uncomfortable. And mad. 

And pretty much want to skip over the topic entirely, but I think it's important for the world to know just how vicious people can be to HR and Recruiter types, just so you all give us just a smidge of sympathy. 

(Is it working? Do you feel even *slightly* sorry for me yet??)

Okay, the sad kitty picture made me feel slightly better for some odd reason...except now I feel I must go hug a cat. 

Anyhoo-as I sifted through my pile of Meanie Monday choices, I came up with one that was short and sweet. 

So here he is, and I'm going to use part of his real name because I feel like it...an email to me from Tobias.

Same deal, I contacted him because he used to do insurance- found him on a major job board etc... here's his email back to me, a nice and simple email from an asshole:

"I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU GOT MY EMAIL ADDRESS. BUT LOOSE IT AND DON'T CONTACT ME EVERY AGAIN. OR ELSE."

Alright TOBIAS... you jackass.

First of all, I OBVIOUSLY got your info off of A JOB BOARD you posted your damn resume on. 

Second, you want me to "loose" your email address and don't "every" contact you again?

I totally want to get all grammatical on his ass but I'm afraid he might retaliate with an assault rifle.

Oh, and "OR ELSE" WHAT?? Hmmmm??

(Again, possible assault rifle usage fear comes into play here...)

So instead, I will stare at your address, try not to notice that it's on my way home and use every ounce of self-control not to go to the drug store ON my way home to get some cotton balls. 

Because

Yo yo yo!

Happy Friday!

Let's just jump right in... I got this STUPID ASS email from this PUNK KID who thought if he'd write (and I use that word loosely) and send me these 4 sentences, I'd JUMP at the chance to call him.

His name is Shane.

I'm using his real name this time because...well you'll see why in a minute.

This is his email to me:

"Hi Stepanie

I write a email from u regards a job with ____________ " (my company name went there...)

"how does the pay work ur company

please advised"

Oh man, I couldn't pick up the phone fast enough to call this qualified job seeker.

NOT.

And just when I thought he couldn't get any dumber... I caught Shane's email address.

It started with:

djslimshaney

Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?

Please stand up?

Please stand up?

Or rather, I'm with Christina Aguilera on this one, will the real Slim Shady and Slim Shaney please shut the fuck up?

Don't know about the spat years ago between Christina and Eminem? You probably don't need to, but it's Friday, so what the hell, what's another one minute and 55 seconds of your life wasted? Listen to this to hear Christina's version... which I believe was written by Weird Al, who just basically rocks on a whole different level. I'm sure DJSlimShaney is basically just some wanna be white and nerdy loser, whom Weird Al sings about here, in one of his best songs evah.

You're welcome for the odd distraction in your day.

Peace out my peeps!

The Devil's in the Details

I got a good one yesterday!
So good that I covertly RAN back to Tammy's office to show her.
I couldn't believe it.
Just couldn't believe it.
(And by the way, it's hard to covertly run, in heels, without drawing attention to yourself from people that already think you're uber weird. Have you ever tried it before?)

Anyway, back to the resume at hand... a charming young lady who seemed so sweet and innocent... (we'll just call her "Hannah") made a dire mistake at the very very end of her resume. I almost didn't catch it- it was literally the last sentence.

Now first, before I spring the appalling catch phrase on you, let me just paint the picture of our darling virginal resume submitter, Hannah.
Ahem.

She worked as a private residence caregiver for 7 years, where she helped housebound adults.
Then she spent a lot of time doing volunteer work, until she finally landed at Jo-Ann Fabrics, where she was responsible for "cutting fabric, packaging rements" (I'm pretty sure she meant remnants) and "following weights and measurement guidelines."

So...you know... a pretty calm and fairly wholesome individual overall, no?

Alright, now that I've painted you a picture of Miss Perfect- let's release the statement that made me choke on my iced tea and covertly run down the hallway towards my fearless side kick Tammy.

At the very end of her resume, in annoying Comic Sans type under a category she named "Other", THIS STATEMENT:

"Screwing since junior high school"

Choke.

Uh, yeah. You read that right, SCREWING since junior high school.

Gasp.

Given the nature of her resume, there's a pretty good chance she meant to put SEWING since junior high school, but who can be sure, really?

It's usually the quiet ones you gotta look out for ;0)

Confession Time

Okay, it's confession time.

I've been doing this blog for a while now and over the many months that I've been faithfully posting and using this as my griping platform, my boss has been quietly (and oh so patiently) letting it unfold.

I don't know why exactly he puts up with it (or me for that matter) except that perhaps he sees it (and me?) for it's (my?) good attributes.

Whew. That was a mouthful.

People ask me frequently how my boss feels about the fact that I've published this blog, but the truth is, we've rarely had direct conversations about it. They've been more "beat around the bush" conversations involving me trying to bolt out of his office like the building's on fire once he brings it up. I know he cringes any time anybody discusses it or he sees a new post show up on his rolling Facebook news feed.

(Yes, I'm friends with my boss on FB. Many people have advised me NOT to be over the past year or so, but we are a small office, which equates to a more "family" like setting--- we know each other's vices and virtues and exploit each other accordingly, just like a real family would...ergo, we are friends on Facebook.)

Anyhoo- I suppose if I were to really analyze the situation and how this all unfolded, there is an innate understanding that if I don't spout off in some form, I might blow. I've mouthed off to my patient boss more than once (and not jokingly mind you) that some of the stuff I'm exposed to is so damn rotten and downright abusive (search my archives for Meanie Monday posts to get a partial taste of what I'm talking about), I might need therapy for it. And that's saying a lot coming from a background such as mine where I previously worked with kids that were mentally ill or in foster home situations where they'd been pulled out of extremely abusive homes. Not to mention the fact that not only does insanity run in my family, it freakin' gallops. (Just kidding mom and dad!)
(And yeah you fellow Pinterest Whores, I totally stole that line from Pinterest...who stole it from somebody deserving but not formally credited on the internet...) Look! Here it is!

The point is, my boss is patient regarding this topic... and I think (quite frankly) continually in shock that people actually read it. (I am too for that matter LOL.)
My blog is like the elephant in the room (office?) and it's getting larger and larger and harder and harder to shove out of the way every day, but he's still tolerant nonetheless.

Why am I talking about this you ask?
Because last week something *mahvalous* happened.

Here's the scene in a nutshell:
Our office got a visit from two great CareerBuilder.com execs, who'd flown in from Chicago to meet with us and a handful of other accounts they carried in our area. I wasn't paying much attention to my boss's calendar (even though I stare at it all day long and are constantly scheduling people on it... great secretary/admin type I am eh?) until like the afternoon before the visit was to occur, it finally dawned on me whose name I'd been booking people around. I buzzed boss man over the phone system and said "This Alex on your calendar, is that *Alex from CareerBuilder* Alex?" to which I'm sure he rolled his eyes back in his office and then replied "Yeessss. What about her?" Me: "She's coming HERE? Or are you just having some kind of a phone meeting?" Him: "Noooo, she's coming here. Why?" Me: "Uh, I dunno. I've just never gotten to meet anybody from the big bad daddy CareerBuilder building up in the Chicago skyline before." (Well okay, that's not what I said exactly, but that's sure what I was thinking!)
Him: Click.
(He does that, he'll just suddenly hang up on you. That's how you know the conversation you were having is over.)

So I sat there contemplating this concept. Alex was physically coming to our office. How cool.

Now for a little background- I'd (we'd) always had the same CareerBuilder account exec named Ryan for years. YEARS. He helped me with random ridiculous problems; would try to explain things over and over to get them through my thick, blond head...we were a comfortable "familiar" with how lame brained I was and how he was going to save me.

Alex transitioned into Ryan's position when he got a promotion a few months back, so she jumped right in and rolled up her sleeves when I instantly had some stupid ass issue that I couldn't figure out. She calmly walked me through how to fix my little minuscule problem and we'd talked a few times since then, but we'd never actually had a physical visit to the office to my knowledge. Certainly not since 2008- so this was new to me.

The day arrived, we had appointments booked before and after Alex's meeting time, but low and behold, she brought a trusty and handsome sidekick named Graham (yo Graham!) with her. I'd never spoken with Graham before, didn't know him from boo, but nevertheless, there he sat across from me on our cushy, olive green sofa next to Alex.

Now let me just say as a side bar, I'm pretty convinced after recently cruising through some pics of the CareerBuilder execs back in Chicago that you cannot be fugly and work there. They just won't tolerate it. I'm sure it's some sort of unspoken code, like how fire fighters always have to be smokin' hot (pun intended) or they won't be accepted into the fold... you know, that unspoken code. I'm fairly sure that's what's going on over there, but of course, being a completely legit operation and certainly up on all the legalities of employee hiring practices, they'd vehemently deny my observation. I'm not sure if I was expecting some 520 lb. chain smoking 73 year old hag or what, but let me just say Alex (short for Alexandra) was cotton pickin' adorable and Graham was quite the catch too. Both professional and quick on their feet of course, suffice it to say, the big dominating CareerBuilder gurus in the sky know how to pick employees.

That being said, we conversed briefly with light hearted banter about how us Californians have NO clue as to what cold is (and of course, I sheepishly had my ski jacket draped over the back of my chair behind me and was wishing I'd placed it somewhere else that morning...) when boss man finally came up to retrieve our visitors and take them back to his office. As they were starting down the hallway and had passed my desk, Graham turned and said to me "We read your blog!"
Say wha?
This. Was. Hysterical.

Once those words came out of his mouth, it was as if time slowed down to the pace of quick sand, and yet it all happened so fast, it was unreal. The only thing I can equate it to is that weird feeling you get when you watch that horrible movie The Matrix, with Keanu Reeves.

It felt like this:

I'm pretty sure I said "You do??" with this quizzical look on my face and then as I glanced at boss man, he looked like he was turning various shades of abnormal colors and appeared as if he was about to do one of these:

He did manage to bark out in a shocked questionary tone:

"You do?!?!?"

To which our visitors laughed and then continued to discuss it down the hall to his office where they closed the door and I was left wondering what the HELL they were in there saying about me and my blog my boss tolerates. 

Hmmph.

But!

This totally and completely made my day,

my week,

my month, 

and quite possibly

my last 6 months.

Thank you Alex and Graham for this simple mention and your kind words about being readers.

Stay tuned for more actual resume funny tomorrow my peeps! Peace out!

This ain't the personal ads people

Alright.
It's time I spout off about this because it's been drivin' me FREAKIN' CRAZY for months...years? Probably years now that I really take a second to think about it.

So here's the overview...as I outlined in this previous blog post... interests and/or hobbies aren't really necessary to put on your resume any more. Unless of course you have a very special niche career in which it would apply, posting them really does nothing more than
a) take up space
and
b) make us Recruiter/HR types snicker our asses off at you.

The most recent round I've collected is SO SO silly, I couldn't of course help but share.

Before I do though, I just wanted to point out the fact that way back in the stone age (or whenever it was that people decided it was necessary to put "Interests" or "Hobbies" on resumes) I really don't know what the eff they were thinking. Because really, what's the difference besides an interest or a hobby? I think they are like 2 degrees off in separation or something minuscule like that. One could assume that hobbies just start off as mere interests, and evolve into something more.
But still, when I see them posted on a resume?
All I can think is 1 of 3 things:
YAWN
or
YOU'RE AN IDIOT
or
SAVE IT FOR YOUR MATCH.COM PROFILE.


Ahem.

Let's begin, shall we?

"I enjoy gardening and quilting"

How thrilling. Be still my beating heart.

"My favorite color is purple and I'm a spunky Sagittarius."

How nice. I totally don't care.

"I like long walks on the beach and beautiful sunsets..."

Pffft. Like that isn't an overused stereotypical catch phrase circa 1978...

"My hobby is that I enjoy spending time playing with my fiance and Bowser my Basset Hound."

Okay, I love Basset Hounds, so I'm going to leave that one alone. But "playing" with your fiance?

Ummmm, yeah. Like totally inappropriate.

"My hobby is global news."

 Uhhh, really? Could you be any more dull?

"Hobbies: children"

This simple statement was from a guy that has no career affiliation with children...ummmm this scares me.

Should I be reporting him?

Anyone?

Anyone?

Bueller?

"Hobbies: Fresh and salt water aquariums"

This was also posted from a job seeker that had no prior employment experience with aquariums. 

Or fish.

Or even the rocks that go in the bottom of the tank.

Can you say random?

"Expanding Home Brewing Beer Possibilities"

Bahahahahaha!!

(This one was admittedly extra funny to me because my hubby home brews...)

"Hobbies: Advertysment"

Wha? Who has a hobby regarding advertising? The dude's background had nothing to do with marketing or advertising. Or even spelling things correctly for that matter. Perhaps he was involved with THIS advertisement:

"Watching Anime"

Do I really need to say anything about this one??

"Hobbies: I love selling things. I once sold 640 candy bars at a dollar each for my sisters fiffth grade class."

Okay, clearly, this candy bar selling dude that loves selling things but has a problem with spelling things should be hooked up with my "advertisment" dude above. Don't you agree? I should totally arrange a soiree of sorts for them.

And I know it's not exactly a pic of candy bars, but I found this and couldn't resist posting it...

Heh.

"Hobbies: Walking and bingo"

Really?

How old are you anyway??

(Wait, don't answer that...technically I'm not allowed to ask...)

"Hobbies: Counseling peers and bowling"

Huh?

Did you mean "counseling peers while bowling"??

Or just drinking too much while bowling and spouting off your opinion when nobody really freakin' cares?

"Hobbies: Puzzles"

What kind of puzzles? Cuz if it's this kind, then...

Yawn.

But if it's this kind:

Then that's just funny shit.

You should really be more specific when posting that your only hobby is puzzles, just sayin'...

"Hobbies: making pool shot videos for youtub"

Youtub?

Is that a new video hosting website I haven't heard of as of yet?

"Hobbies: Live events and fantasy sports"

I suppose it's "live" events vs. "fantasy" sports, just to keep an even keel and all? Like one foot is firmly planted in reality while the other one is loosely floating in fantasy?

?

And last for now, but knowing my luck, certainly not the last I'll see on a resume:

"Hobbies: Socializing with friends."

Yeah, because NOBODY likes socializing with their friends.

Twit.

Peace out my peeps!

PS Which friend icon are YOU? I'm pretty sure I'm Cartwright, but fingers are crossed I'm something cooler like Spongebob. ;0)

I'm back! I'm back! Not dead! Not dead!

Wow- sorry for the massive delay in getting more resume stupidity out to you.
Things over here? They are a shakin' man.
Lots a crap going on...so perhaps in an effort to explain my disappearance, let's just start with the personal stuff and get that out of the way, shall we? (It's slightly interesting, I swear. So just hang tight and then we'll get to the resume stuff!)

My husband, in-laws and I had a family property on the market for a very short amount of time- (like 8-10 days?) and it is now officially in escrow. Woo-hoo! It's a cutie-patootie house that my husband and I renovated back in 2010, so quite frankly, I'm not surprised it went so fast.
Cuz we be bad ass house flippers...

Don't believe me?

Alright...here's some before and after pics:

Inside of kitchen before:

Empty spot is where fridge went...that silver thing across from the FIVE layers of hideous wallpaper was the original oven from 1947... it was so small I have NO idea how anybody got an actual turkey in there for Thanksgiving festivities...

Removing icky kitchen cabinets is alarming oh daughter o' mine... why I don't blame you at all for the look on your face while Daddy rips them down...

So those were 2 before shots of the kitchen, here's some after shots:

And just in case you are wondering if I actually had a part in helping with all this garbage, you bet your sweet bippy I did. Ize one hard worker bee-- here's me in all my grout sealing glory:

Now for some outside shots:

Before!

(Blarfie - can you say Pepto Bismol?)

And after! Voila!

Another one, closer shot of the front door:

So now that you can see we sort of know how to renovate a house, I'm happy to report that this cute little property selling triggers an avalanche of good things- one of which is the fact that we'll finally be able to get out of our lovely rental and purchase a home in the city where we both work and the kidlet goes to school. Yay!
But wait, no, this turns into a slight BOO!! only because our property management company is, ummm, how shall I say this?

Money hungry.

Backstory first:

My handsome husband, daughter and I live together in a large home with my sis and bro-in-law and have for just a bit over a year. We originally ended up living in this unique situation because our prior residence (also a rental) evolved into a problematic situation.

In a nutshell, a schizophrenic ex-felon moved in across the street from hubby, darling daughter and I, and started off his debut with our neighborhood with terribly erratic behavior, including:

1. Pacing in circles around the household vehicles parked on his driveway while smoking, yelling, gesturing, and maniacally laughing to his imaginary friends

2. Confiscating lost animals and almost butchering them to death in an "innocent" effort to give them haircuts on his bathroom floor

3. Going door to door in the neighborhood looking for anybody he could play "let me read your mind" games with

and last but certainly not least

4. Calling me at work multiple times to have conversations about his "new" career in the insurance field.

Gah.

By the third time he called me I had gotten tired of asking my poor boss to get rid of him for me, crawled out from underneath my desk where I had been sucking my thumb, strapped on a pair of cojones and got on the phone with him so I could work the conversation to my advantage.

In the TWELVE LONGEST MINUTE CONVERSATION OF MY LIFE, I covertly got him to divulge the fact that he sat in jail for a long time because he did "something very bad" to a girl at a party one night. Well, that's enough for me! I'd been pointing out to my *tired of moving all the time* hubby for a few months that it was time for us to move yet again, but that conversation sealed the deal as he finally agreed, it was time to shove!

And thus a brainy collaboration between my sister and I ensued involving having us all live in a large, charming home, in a safe, delightful neighborhood in-between all the cities where we work and/or attend school.

Now, I say "safe" a bit tongue in cheek because we thought it was safe.

Silly us.

As of the past 4 months, it hasn't been. There have been burglaries and country-wide media attention to pepper spraying "events" that have been taking place in our lovely "safe" neighborhood. While pepper spraying activity happened several miles away from our home and only in the heat of Black Friday Stupidity, the burglaries and break ins have not. Not only are these break ins ongoing, they involve no Black Friday Stupidity and are very, very close. The most recent one was 1 street over.

Okay, back to the whole moving thing.
Ironically our lease is up on the house we co-habitat about 4 days before escrow will close on the property we are selling. This means we will need about a 2-3 month buffer of time where we can find a home to purchase and have escrow close on it as quite frankly, we have no interest in making any offers on homes with "contingencies" on them- we know we won't be taken seriously. So! We had hoped we'd just go month to month as most leases do in our state once the original contract is up, but our property management company is "special", so they decided to mail us 4 choices, and all of them shitty for our particular situation.


The first one would be all fine and dandy if we were intending on staying put. Just sign for another year, we won't raise your rent, life goes on.

The second choice was vague- involving a small monthly increase but some other head scratching, cloudy details that we needed further clarification on.

The third choice was pretty simple, just pay us an extra NINE HUNDRED DOLLARS A MONTH to go month to month, and everything will be fine. Choke.

The fourth choice was also simple, just move out.

Hmmmm.

We found these choices to be a bit

So after all us housemates passed around the letter and had a small pow-wow of sorts, we decided we needed to have a sit down, in their office type conversation with the property management company. We wanted to let them know what was going on with us timing wise and see if they would negotiate a little better with us and get option 2 a little less "vague" if you will.

The property management company was at first rather unwilling to take the fourteen minutes to sit down with their stellar tenants (which we are by the way, always on time with the rent, never complain etc...) but my sweet husband somehow finally convinced them to let us take up their *oh so valuable* time, and an appointment was set.

That was yesterday. (Saturday.)
And let me just say?
It was kind of uncomfortable.

Okay, more than uncomfortable.

My sister was the only one lucky enough to be working so she couldn't attend, but if she had been there, I'm pretty sure she would have bolted out the front door like a spooked horse four minutes in.

We somehow managed to endure the awkwardness and got some basic clarification on the process. Without indulging any more complicated facts that would make your eyes cross even more than they already are with this post, it basically came down to an offer that some (like us) would still deem unfair but others (like the property management people) thought more than fair.

Ahem.

So! On that note!
I've got a great home for rent in a "nice and safe" neighborhood for a partially obscene amount of money every month where your family can have the privlege of being visited by Eddie Murphy's twin and his brothers from Watts, where they will also tie up your children in the home while they ransack it.

True story.

And no, I am not racist, you can ask all my multi-cultural friends how much I love them (as I do) but seriously, I dare you to watch this video footage from one of the victim's home security systems and tell me that the dude on the front porch DOESN'T look like Eddie Murphy's brother. Or at least his first cousin.

Just for the record: we now have our very own security system so that we can film Eddie's brother and his buddies as they try to break into our house, which is also now armed with a Doberman Pinscher, and a very freaking loud alarm.

(We also may or may not have guns. Just sayin'.)

And also, just so you are prepared, I shall forewarn you that you might also notice the 27 cats we now have as well, as they kind of line themselves up like this when you first walk in:

Oh, and so back to that property management company...
I will be BLOGGING about them, and YELPING about them and doing everything else I can on the internet to let people know what schmukwads they are, but only AFTER we are out of here and have the security deposit money that was the equivalent of buying 2 fucking Cadillacs back in our pockets.

Let me just say though, people are stupid and should never, EVER underestimate the power of a blogger.
Especially one like me who's finally gaining traction.
It is, however, taking EVERY COTTON PICKIN' OUNCE of self control not to name them now.

That being said, let's move on to resumes, shall we?

Seeing as how it's a Monday- I'm going to start bringing back Meanie Mondays.
So in keeping with Meanie Monday tradition, I'm going to tell you about some random bitch that I had the misfortune of calling.

First of all, I probably shouldn't have been calling her in the first place, but choices on the job boards have been slim pickin's as of late (which occasionally happens by the way...) so I decided oh, what the hell.

She had a background in insurance, albeit not a very long or impressive one, but I was trying to see if she'd be worth interviewing for a start up position as a CSR type under one of our existing agents.

When I called her, it immediately rolled to her voice mail which is fine, but I was stunned by the 'tude she was copin' on the phone.

THIS was the message she had for the entire world to be greeted by:

"Hi, you've reached my voice mail. Just so you know, I will NOT CALL ANYBODY BACK THAT DOES NOT LEAVE A MESSAGE!"
Beep.

Really?
Seriously?
You're job searching and THAT is the message you have for potential employers to hear when they call you for a possible interview?

What the HELL is the matter with you, woman?

Did I leave a message for her?
Not at first.
I slammed down the phone because I immediately knew I couldn't have somebody like her representing one of our agents. But I got a little more ballsy a few hours later and dialed her up from my cell phone -yes, from my cell phone, not my office phone- (and I know you are already mocking me in your head for being such a chicken, so to be fair, I did say a "little" ballsy)--- I left her a message.
All I said though was this:

That's right, you read that right, just "Boo!"

Ahahahahaha.
Lame?
Absolutely.
Has she called me back?
Why yes.

True to her word, she's called me back 3 separate times- unfortunately she only hangs up though. (I know it's her because I recognize her number on my cell phone.) Perhaps I should have changed MY voice mail to say
"Hi, you've reached my voice mail. Just so you know, I will NOT CALL ANYBODY BACK THAT DOES NOT LEAVE A MESSAGE!"
That would have been FAR more clever on my part. Maybe THEN she'd have gotten the hint.

Nah.
Probably not, she's clearly too stupid.

Loser!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some packing to do.

Peace out my peeps!