Saturday, March 17, 2007

Corporate Slang: The Second Generation

Corporate lingo is something I think we all have some familiarity with. Even if you don't work in the corporate world, you may have mocked it, seen a TV or website mocking it, or watched Office Space.

Office Space: Modern parable for our lives

Recently, I have noticed terms being floated around that do not adhere to oft-overused "think outside the box"/"added-value" variety. Maybe I worked in a such a loosey goosey environment before (uh oh, did I just one?), but all of a sudden I've been hit with an influx of corporate speak that it's insinuated itself into my everyday life and not always in the right context.

Widgets: The front-runner in today's office slang. This is the penultimate word used in corporate examples when a business professional is trying to illustrate a point, but don't have a clear subject with which to highlight it. I had no idea what the word meant, just that it was the little weather thingy Yahoo installed on my desktop. A look-up reveals aside from this somewhat cloudy meaning, the word is supposed to be synonymous with "gadgets". If your office is not up on their corporate slang, peppering conference calls and meetings with"widgets" left and right, then they're going bust within two years.

Corporate world: "Let's say we were doing a special advertising section on, oh, say...widgets. We would do it this way and that a way and really get our bang for the buck."

Me: "Many years ago, Pee-Wee Herman was arrested for playing with his widgets at an X-rated movie theater."

Monetize: Another overused word that I never even heard of until I started work at my recent company. It's just another way of saying to make money.

Corporate world: "We need to think of new ways to monetize our website, as users are clicking off our pop-up ads without even looking at them."

Me: "I found two skirts during the move with the price tags still on. I know I'll never wear them, so I can monetize them by selling them on eBay."

ROI: Everyone in the corporate world wants to know what the ROI (Return On Investment) is on just about anything they do. So do I.

Corporate world: "What's the ROI for my brand if I decide to run with your magazine, as opposed to theirs? What's in it for us?"

Me (to deli counter guy): "What's the ROI if I have my sandwich with honey mustard instead of mayonnaise?"

Loosey goosey: A term implying non-commital or vague.

Corporate world: "The client is being loosey goosey. I think they may be considering another vendor, as they appear to be holding off on signing our contract."

Me: "She didn't answer her phone after she left with that guy she met at the bar. Was someone being a loosey goosey last night!"

Poop: A surprising alternative to the word "information" that features heavily in everyday corporate speak, at least in my office.

Corporate world: "The brochure should say something like 'Get the latest poop on how to hire, fire and revitalize your workforce.'"

Me (walking with C in a park and nary a bathroom in sight): "I have to poop."

Saturday, March 03, 2007

Still awake

Reading the headlines and see that Daniel Radcliffe has signed on to do all of the Harry Potter films. A paycheck's a paycheck, especially when you're playing Harry Potter. But with at least three more of these films to go, by the time this thing is done a huge suspension of belief will be necessary here.

"Dammit, Voldemort, my gout is acting up. Can't you just leave me alone?"

Going in, not out, in style

It is 2:30 in the morning after my move. I am not the person I once was. I'm afraid moving just might have broken me. Either that or the fact that our mattress wasn't delivered today and we are sleeping on the floor of our bedroom. Wood floors, people, wood floors.

Upon reading the chronicles of fellow blogger G during his move , I waved my hand and said "Eh, bubkes." Now, as I sit here on the floor typing away, I'm wide awake, a burned out version of myself, and thanks to a dinner of chicken chili and three Heinekens, I'm feeling rather tooty.

You take the good, you take the bad...you take me eating salt and vinegar potato chips before I go back to bed and snuggle up to C

Looking back on the day, I think Macy's Furniture Gallery is out to get me. There is absolutely no way their service can just be that bad while they stay in business. And they're in cahoots with Moishe's moving company. After months of planning and coordinating, with the last week spent making sure everyone submitted the necessary documents for security clearance in the Financial District, how did it all go wrong? Why was I having a hernia at this young and tender age?

This was before the chili, mind you.

When the movers decided not to inform us they had arrived and started stacking our stuff all over the hallway unattended, I got a bad feeling. After finding more and more boxes of our things with each corner I turned, I knew it was time to call Macy's. Macy's, the bane of my existence the minute I darkened their doors. Macy's, devil personified in a furniture store. From start to what I hope will soon be finish, it's been painful. Never, ever again.

I had scheduled the separate delivery of our mattress from our furniture. Give me the mattress today, the furniture tomorrow and I'm happy. Wallowing on the kitchen floor, typing away with my tooty self, I admit defeat to the cadres of customer service reps who are probably toasting a beer right now to the fact that they have me sleeping on the floor tonight.

Sleeplessness has been plaguing me for the past week in anticipation of the move, so this is major. My father, my father, was compelled to give Ambien earlier this week to try and help things. This does not happen. Despite visions of myself inhaling whole loaves of bread and barbequing in my sleep, I actually slept well. The irony is that with no Ambien tonight, I'm inhaling whatever I can get my hands on at this hour. I am like the MacGyver of food, making gourmet creations out of stale power bars and seeing what happens when you mix honey mustard with aforementioned potato chips.

I do have an excuse. The stress that was brought on by engaging in commerce with Macy's and Moishe's. Today, I. Was. Seeing. Red. There's an episode on MTV's True Life called "I'm Getting Married" where Charlie the Staten Island groom goes abba-sol-loot-ly ballistic on his limo driver for being late on the day of his wedding. It's the stuff of legend since the episode aired, watched by millions of viewers. We're talking eyes bulging and veins popping. But after today, I think I get him now.

No, I wouldn't threaten to gut the movers like a fish, but I have stomped around the hallway yelling on my cell phone, much in the style of Charlie, while my neighbors considered calling the men in white coats. The upside of having your brand-spanking-new neighbors think you're nuts is that they'll be too afraid of you and so will never, ever want to fark with you.

"Have you met the new neighbors next door? A guy and a girl, right?"

"Yes. He's alright. She's...she's lovely."

Topping it all off, I can't sleep and suffering this chili, an ill-advised decision out of hunger with very few rations in our cupboard. It's amazing what you will craft out of the few food items you transport with you during a move.

Tomorrow is another day. Oh right, today is tomorrow.