Tuesday, December 13, 2005

I have been outed.

For those of you who have not been paying attention, I am an award-winning singing sensation. Okay, an award-winning karaoke artist. Okay, an award-winning song slanderer. But note- I am AWARD-WINNING!!!

In order to catch up the rest of you (hahaha- like anyone reads this...except maybe one of you, who has my undying love and gratitude, for a myriad of reasons, but foremost at this moment because you, only YOU, remember that I have a blog and read it from time to time, thereby rehashing every inane thing I have already said to you thirty times in person- oh, friendship! Is there any better friend than the one who does not complain that you are a selfish bitch boring them to death with your petty little problems? I think not, and therefore, I wish that I could buy you many wonderful Xmas gifts wrapped in pretty little bows, when in reality, you will get a heartfelt hug and maybe you can feel me up real quick while I promise not to notice, while I'm still fat and still have my big, luscious BOOBIES...but that's a subject for another entry, entitled "Why My Family Keeps Reminding Me I am Fat"), anyway, to bring the rest of you up to speed, me and two cohorts won the work karaoke competition this spring with out rousing rendition of "Loveshack," complete with wigs, shades, and loud clothing for the gals and a zoot suit, shades, and shorn head for the guy, and raucous dancing by all. And yeah, we sang, but I guarantee that's not why we won. Just trust me on that. But who needs vocal talent when you have STAR POWER, baby?

Anyway, back then, I was in a different, looser department, where everyone knew we were loud and proud and unashamed to be foolish. Fast forward several months, and I am in a different, much more sedate, department of the same company. I try to dress professionally (some people wore sweat-like pants in my old dept, which I think is kind of pushing the whole 'business casual' dress code, if you ask me), keep my head down, and do my job. No one seems to know that this mild-mannered analyst was the one in the towering blond beehive shakin' her considerable thang on stage in front of the whole company back in May.

Today, I was having a discussion with the newest member of my direct team (we were talking about people, not gossiping, mind you, which is a whole different thing, promise), a person who I really get along with and like a bunch, and who is the only person with whom I have been able to develop a chatty relationship in this department, as the two of us are of the same age and still 'the new folks,' feeling a little out of place with all the pretty, thin, impossibly well-dressed younguns in this same department. Somehow, the subject got around to the concert that I attended on the company's dime, and I revealed that I had attended as part of the winning group of this contest, as said concert was the 1st prize.

"Oh My God! That was you? Someone told me, but I didn't believe them!!!!"

The someone that told this person is not in our department, and my friend really thought they were joking. I am of two schools of thought about this phenomenon of sheer amazement.

1. I am damn glad that no one else in this department seems to realize that was me, because it would rock their world (as evidenced by my work friend's amazement.) And I understand, I mean, really, do you expect (or want) your Financial Analyst to be a little...oh...crazy?

2. I am dismayed that this seems so out of character for me, given my work persona. Am I so different - and boring - at work, that no one thinks I have that much personality (even if it is the slightly frightening variety) in me? My good friends would gladly confirm that I am not the shrinking violet type, that I am maybe a little too loose for my own good. But at work, I'm quiet and sedate. This worries me. I don't like the implication. There's this huge disconnect between my work self and my self self. I feel dysfunctional.

Maybe everyone feels this way. No one cuts loose at work like they do at home, and that's good and professional. I don't want my coworkers farting on me and scratching their nuts/cootch in my presence, like I do when I'm in the privacy of my own home. But I don't want to be a nameless, faceless drone, either...perhaps this is at the heart of my severe dissatisfaction with my current work environment...

Or maybe this is just another little petty problem I'm subjecting my audience to...

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