Because if I post this here, I won't actually send it. Maybe...

Dear Boss #1:

I did not create the Internet. I just didn't. That's a fact. I have created a lot of great things in my day including this blog and an impressive bong I made out of a blue Gatorade bottle in high school, but the Internet, I can not take credit for. I'm also a graphic designer born after 1984, which makes me one of the more tech savvy receptionists. Again, I'll give it to you. But all of these factors do not make me the all-knowing Master of Computer Technology. It just means I can Photoshop a really comical picture of Pam Grier's body with Tiffany Amber Thiessen's head in under five minutes. Or a picture of a praying mantis named Scott wearing bifocals writing a screenplay. Or an image of Alex and Maya Angelou floating through space entitled, "SPACE BIFFLES." That's the extent of my computer magic right there. Is it helpful? Not really. Is it hilarious? Yes.

You know what I regret, Boss #1? I regret on that first day of work when you came to me and said, "I'm pressing the 'C' button on my laptop, but the coffee dun't come out!" that I walked over to you, all fat and cocky and held you in my arms like a wilting flower and whispered, "Shhhh...I'm here now." I regret that I showed you where the coffee machine was and explained to you that a laptop is a word processing machine and not another asshole. Because it was then that you looked at me through slick, wet eyes and decided that I was the Empress of all that is Digital and Holy. And from that moment on, you came to me with any problem that was even remotely technological. From missing Word documents to dead vibrator batteries, I'd take a few Common Sense pills, hit auto-recovery, pop in a few double-A's and tell you to, "go get 'em, Tiger."

But guess what? There are some technological problems that I can not solve. Problems that go beyond my knowledge of when in doubt, CTRL-ALT-Delete and/or power cycle the router. Sometimes, I just don't know why the Internet isn't working. "So, call Comcast, Estupida," I can just hear Boss #2 saying. "OK, what's our account number?" "Jo no sey." "But I need it to call Comcast." "Just geev them the number to our telephono." "Which number is on the account?" "Jo no sey." "Ok...what name is on the account?" "STOP GRILLING ME FOR INFORMACIÓN!!! Who are you—Border Control?! Just fix it!" So like the gringa I am, I call Comcast and explain to them that our Internet isn't working and I don't know our account number or the account telephone number or what name the account is even in, but if you don't help me, my boss is going to beat me like a piñata. And Comcast, bless their collective hearts, is always sympathetic but never helpful. They put me on hold for the rest of the day and nothing ever gets solved and I go home and curl up in a ball and gently rock, knowing that in 10 hours I'm going to have to come back and do it all over again. And all of the managers in all of the Comcast, Netgear and Dell help centers in the world ask me the same question—"who is your Network Administrator?" And I explain to them that I'm 99% sure it's me and 100% sure that my soul is slowly creeping out through my asshole.

What I'm trying to say, Boss #1, is that I don't know how to fix the Internet or the wireless printer router. This is the crossroads we're currently standing in. And you don't get it. You can not grasp the concept that I can't fix the Internet. You are convinced that as The Empress of all things Digital and Holy, I keep the Internet up my snizz and can queef it out on demand. But I cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die that is not the case. Because if it were, I'd be charging 50 bucks a queef and not eating gummy fangs for dinner and working for you.

I understand that you're frustrated, because I'm frustrated too. But you know what's not going to help? Throwing your flash drive at me and yelling "MAKE THIS WORK!!!!!" before stomping off like a child. I don't like that as of yesterday, I can honestly say that I've had a grown woman throw a flash drive (or as you call it, a "computer-stick") at my face. You are a grown-ass woman. If you're frustrated with me because I refuse to queef out the Internet for you, don't throw shit at me. Because I'm a fucking human being. And when you've cooled down and realized how grossly inappropriate you were, don't make a joke out of it. Apologize. Because throwing shit at me is not funny. Knock-knock jokes are funny. Old people talking about sex are funny. Family Matters is funny. Having a temper-tantrum and throwing shit at me is not funny. And if you're that frustrated with me for holding the Internet deep within my womb and refusing to grant you access because you haven't paid the toll, try talking to me about it. If you can answer me these riddles three, I swear I shall grant you access to your precious Internet:
1.) What is our Comcast account number?
2.) Can I please have some petty cash to buy a new router?
3.) Are you aware that I'm not an IT person?

That last one is an honest-to-god question that I want answered. Do you know that I'm a receptionist and not an IT person? Because knowing how to use a computer does not make me a computer expert. Being able to do "fancy" things with the computer like opening a new tab without the mouse or dragging files onto your "computer-stick" doesn't mean I'm going to be able to fix every single computer problem that arises. When you bitch and moan that your computer is too bright and I click the "less sun" button to dim it, that doesn't mean I'm Bill Gates—it just means I know my ass from a hole in the ground. I can connect the dots that Mr. Sad Face Sun is probably the guy I should talk to if I want to dim the computer screen. There's a difference between intelligence and common sense. And I'll be the first to tell you, I have neither. I'm just really good at fiddling with shit. And that's what half of using a computer is. Just clicking things and opening and closing shit and messing around until you do whatever it is you're trying to do. And you, Boss #1, are completely capable of doing this, you just prefer when I do it. And you know what? That's fine. Because frankly, I have nothing else to do and if me figuring out how to turn off your daily Outlook reminder makes me look like a genius in your eyes, I'll take it. I take the small wins when I get 'em because I, overall, am a loser.

However, It's the leap from "can you make my screen less bright?" to "can you make the Internet appear out of thin air?" that I have a problem with. Because knowing how to google "insert a signature in Outlook" does not mean I can perform miracles. And I don't appreciate that when I can't perform miracles, you don't believe me and think I'm holding out on you. Trust me, if I can do something to shut you up and get you off my back, I'm gonna do it. My goal is to interact with you as little as possible on a daily basis. I just want to write my little blog and watch The Hulu and eat my chicken wrap and get through the day as quickly as possible until it's time to go home. I don't like when you come to me with your problems. AND YOU DO! ALL THE TIME! You come to me with all of your problems! "Meghan, my phone is too loud!" "Meghan, I don't know how to save something to the desktop!" "Meghan, my daughter doesn't want to go to college!" "Meghan I have a UTI!" "Meghan, I'm not happy with my husband anymore!" GAH!!!! On one hand, I'm flattered that you think I'm competent enough to deal with all of these problems, but on the other—I'm just the fucking receptionist. And you pay me accordingly. Specifically, you pay me like a fucking migrant worker. So if you want me to be your receptionist, IT person, life coach and gynecologist, you need to give me a raise. Oh and some health insurance and vacation time would be dandy too.

In conclusion: I am not an IT person. I didn't get my degree in computer science from Westwood. I don't always know how to fix your computer. And this is not my fault. We need someone we can go to when we have computer problems who is not me. And more importantly, you can not be mad at me about this. To drive the point home, I'm going to leave you with a list of things that I am 100% capable of doing and a list of things that I ma 100% not capable of doing. Study the list. Learn the list. Respect the list. And stay in your own lane or I will drive you off the road.

Things I Can Do:
- File
- Organize
- Answer phones
- Dust
- Take crucial naps
- Snuggle with Evie
- The Electric Slide
- Work a remote
- Make a bangin' salad
- Design a tri-fold pamphlet
- Make a mediocre cup of coffee
- Take a message
- Shake your hand firmly

Things I Can Not Do:
- Fix a broken wireless router
- Reconfigure the printer router
- Hack into our neighbor's wireless
- Read your mind
- Make new light bulbs appear out of nowhere
- Make a special Comcast Seal channel because you're really in the mood to hear "Kiss From a Rose"
- Spackle the walls
- Prescribe you Amoxicillin
- Fix a broken dishwasher
- Convince your daughter to go to college
- Upholster a chair
- Duplicate a set of keys with the two hands God gave me
- Power your laptop with bodily fluids and willpower

With a false sense of respect and affection,
Meghan C. McBlogger

Anatomy of your ipod

So as a birthday treat to myself, I decided to go further into debt upgrade my iPhone. Since I’m already living beyond my means, I figured why not splurge on a model with more memory. I’d been surviving with about half of my music library, which seemed doable; I picked which songs I wanted to listen to and would theoretically switch some of them out when I grew tired of them. Of course, being as lazy as I am, I never got around to switching any songs out, so I eventually got sick of all of the music on my pod. Then there’d be times I’d think to myself “Hey self, I really want to hear X song right now” only to realize it’s one of the songs that didn’t make the grade.

Now, all that’s changed and I can listen to all my songs whenever I want. But this has made me realize that there are certain types of songs that everyone has in their music library. I am more than 100% certain that your music is composed of any number of the following categories:

Songs You Cannot Stop Playing. These are probably songs you’ve recently downloaded and are on heavy rotation. Usually these are flash in the pan songs that have a great beat, but not much else going on. Like that guy/girl you dated for about a month who was slammin’ but the personality of a wet dishrag. These songs usually replace and then quickly become Songs You Couldn’t Stop Playing, Then Stopped Playing, and Now Never Want to Listen to Again.

Eternal Songs. Unlike Songs You Cannot Stop Playing, Eternal Songs are the types of songs that no matter how many times you listen to them, you will always love them. Or maybe they’ve dropped off your radar momentarily, but when you rediscover it you think to yourself “God, I love this song. I should listen to this more.”

Songs with Nostalgic Value. Remember that summer when you and your friends went on that crazy road trip and Sarah got poison ivy on her cooter when she peed in the woods? Or that party where Mark jumped off the roof onto the trampoline, but missed and landed in Steve’s mom’s begonias? Yea, “Send In The Clowns” always reminds me of that. These are songs that you instantly associate with a specific time/person/event in your life. Not to be confused with…

Songs with Nostalgic Value but Annoy the Shit Out of You. These songs are still nostalgic, but not in a good way. They immediately conjure up mental images of friends who’ve scorned you, or exes who dumped you, or people you just plain don’t like. For instance, I had to remove Jason Mraz’s “The Remedy” from my iTunes because this douche I used to work with in college always played it on repeat from his cubicle. Literally whenever you stopped and listened, it would be playing. And I can’t hear that song without cringing and thinking of filing college admissions essays…ugh. Bad memories.

Songs You Heard From Your Grandmother. This encompasses any number of solid gold oldies that you listen to even if you never heard them from your grandmother, because her victrola didn’t play Abba. Don’t act like you don’t think about what it’d be like to live when these songs were big. Like being a flapper when you listen to big band music or seeing Studio 54 firsthand while Donna Summer is pumping in your earbuds. That’s why you listen to oldies.

Songs That You Won’t Let Your Grandmother Listen To. Mostly explicit rap and/or R&B songs detailing just how freaky one is/plans to be. The more hard-core, the less likely you’ll let Nana listen to it. More often enjoyed for a good 5th grade giggle at the brazen things said. (Yea I used the word “brazen” in reference to rap music, what of it?) Think back to the first time you heard Ludacris’ “Fantasy”. Did you not chuckle just a little bit thinking about doing it in the White House, tryin’ to make them turn the lights out? Not to be confused with Songs You Played for Your Mom Without Knowing All The Words First. See this post.

Sometimes these songs can become Songs That Were Funny the First Time You Heard Them But Have Since Lost Their Charm. You mat have read my comparative analysis of Bootyhole vs Take a Lick. While those songs make me chuckle, they are not nearly as funny the 30th time around. And the Ukes’ “Gay Boyfriend” has definitely stopped being kitschy after years of passing it around the interwebs.


Songs You Hope Never Show Up on Shuffle When Your IPod is Used at a Party. Otherwise known as Secret Shame songs. This could mean anything to anyone, but they are the songs that you really like but would never admit to in a crowd. Maybe it’s because you’re supposed to love Goth music, and Taylor Swift is as far from goth as you can get, or because you’re 30-something and you really love this one song by “The Wiggles”. Either way, it’s on your iPod and you aren’t proud of it.

Songs Downloaded For a Specific Playlist But You’ve Only Listened To Once. Sophomore year of college, I made my group of friends a CD of all the songs over the course of that year that we’d had a joke about, in one respect or another (Yea I’m that guy. Whatever, it’s not like I macramed them anything…that was senior year). But I cannot tell you a single song on that CD, as I haven’t listened to them since then (except for the extended version of “Thank You For Being a Friend” by Andrew Gold).

Songs You Downloaded Just So You Can Say You Listen To These Songs. This might be specific to a certain brand of person, music elitists we’ll call them. Conversations with this person about these types of songs go a little something like this:

You: “Hey, what are you listening to?”

Music elitist: “Oh it’s just this obscure band I discovered called ‘Shoebox Treetrimmers’. I’m really into them lately. You’ve probably never heard of them.”

You: “Why am I friends with you again?”

Songs You “Discovered”…Along With Half of America Because It Was Featured on Grey’s Anatomy. I’m gonna be up front with you, I find a lot of new music via television shows, movies, commercials, Starbucks and what have you. I have no shame in my game.

Songs That You Have Absolutely No Idea Why You Own Them. This happens to me more often than not. I don’t know if I just blackout when I download music or if I selectively repress certain songs, but I’ve found a few songs in my repertoire (Natalie –Going Crazy), which constantly befuddle me. I don’t remember downloading it nor do I particularly like the song. I should just delete it, but why would I do that?

Songs That You Relate To/Try to Relate To/Desperately Want to Relate To But Probably Never Will. Songs are like movies, in that no one’s life is like that. Sure the general themes happen to everyone: falling in love, falling out of love, cheating, fighting, making out, making up, having fun with your friends, et al, but no song is going to fit your situation to a tee. Not that I think anyone is going to go Single White Female or Talented Mr. Ripley (according to gender) and imitate a song word for word. I’m just saying some people might need some definition to their lives and they think Paramore is the only thing that is capable of doing that.

Songs You Will Dance To No Matter What. See Christina Aguilera “Dirrty”. Seven years later and I still cannot help myself.