August 20th, 2010 by Karen
Fair warning…this is a rant. There are swears. Deal.
I like to consider myself fairly modern. I work, I share chores and child-rearing with Joel, heck we even split cooking duties. I don’t mind getting my own door, though I love it when I’m treated chivalrously. If we’re out to dinner and I get up from the table and you stand up like Cary Grant, you’ve completely won me over. Treat me condesendingly and I’m likely to beat you over the head with my physics degree in a rousing game of my “Bachelor’s of Science trumps your Community College Certificate”.
All in all, the whole feminist movement wasn’t all bad (I’ll save most of that dissertation for another post) BUT…sometimes there’s a line in the sand and if you cross it, well, you get what’s coming to you.
This past week, I attended Affiliate Summit East 2010 in New York City. It’s put on by my dear friends Missy and Shawn and I’ve only missed one in all the years they’ve held them because I’d just had a baby. (Excuses, excuses. 😉 ) I love Summit; I get to see all my old friends, meet a ton of new people, network like mad and stay out until 6am without getting in trouble. It’s by far one of my favorite tradeshows to attend out of the 8 or so I frequent every year.
But, there is one thing though that I hate about EVERY trade show I attend.
Now, I’m not a prude for the most part. My shirts are usually fairly on the deep side of cleavage. I enjoy the flaunt and the flirt. I have friends that run the gamut from very uptight to so kinked that it would make your toes curl. I’ve heard it, I’ve seen it, and while it’s pretty easy to make me blush, I’m not the condeming kind. Some things I just think are better left to private moments and some moments do actually require a modicum of modesty, business situations being one of them.
Booth babes just piss me off into rageaholic land and every tradeshow seems to have at least one pair of the insulting tramps. Why ANYONE would willingly attend a PROFESSIONAL conference clad in a barely there bikini and six inch spike heels is completely beyond me. If you have a good, decent, USEFUL product or service, you don’t need to push some skinny vapid chick in my face to pop her chewing gum and ‘um’ and ‘uh” at me unless you are ACTIVELY trying to get me to hate you and never ever recommend you to anyone ever.
Just to prove to you how damnably skimpy these girls were dressed at Summit, I had to take a pic. I honestly don’t know who they worked for and I don’t care.
In fact, there were probably 20 or so advertisers on the row where they were standing. They paid a small fortune to be there…between booth costs, ticket costs, hotel, airfare, food, taxis…it adds up fast to be an exhibitor.
I skipped the whole damn row.
I -hate- booth babes.
August 7th, 2010 by Karen
I’ve been dealing with some medical falderal the past two weeks and I’ve been tired, incredibly irritable and exceedingly impatient to the point of downright rudeness. You know that horrid little inside voice that you keep clamped down internally because its monologue is so amazingly critical and nasty that you’d never ever say any of those things out loud? Yeah. Mine was on a rampage this week. In public.
I honestly felt like I was losing my mind until my doctor pulled me off the meds he had insisted I needed for my blood pressure. Yikes. I’m still really jittery, but my mind is starting to clear, the anxiety is fading, and I’m not some catty she-witch out to insult total strangers.
In any case, the one thing the past two weeks have taught me (besides not to listen to my doctor about medications, tyvm) is who my true friends are and I was honestly a little surprised.
- I discovered that my husband is more of a God given saint that I already knew.
- I discovered that the person I would consider to be one of my best friends was too busy to be bothered with lending me an ear or offering a bit of sympathy, despite all the times I’ve been there for them in the past several years.
- I discovered that a nearby acquaintance was a far better friend than I had previously realized.
- I discovered that an online gaming friend I had previously given short shrift to because of their brusque attitude was incredibly sympathetic and helpful.
So after a fair amount of strife, frustration and tears this week, I’m finally starting to feel like myself again and today I found this on another aquaintance’s blog and felt it summed up how I was feeling fairly well:
Simple Friends vs. Real Friends
A simple friend has never seen you cry.
A real friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.
A simple friend doesn’t know your parents’ first names.
A real friend has their phone numbers in his address book.
A simple friend brings a bottle of wine to your party.
A real friend comes early to help you cook and stays late to help you clean.
A simple friend hates it when you call after he has gone to bed.
A real friend asks you why you took so long to call.
A simple friend seeks to talk with you about your problems.
A real friend seeks to help you with your problems.
A simple friend wonders about your romantic history.
A real friend could blackmail you with it.
A simple friend, when visiting, acts like a guest.
A real friend opens your refrigerator and helps himself.
A simple friend thinks the friendship is over when you HAVE an argument.
A real friend knows that it’s not a friendship until after you’ve had a fight.
A simple friend expects you to always be there for them.
A real friend expects to always be there for you!