Once again, a heated office discussion turns into a blog… This time, the question is, is there ever any reason too stupid to dump somebody?

Here are some real examples I’ve heard in the past two days:

He says chickmunk instead of chipmunk (mine)
He’s studying business administration (mine)
He wears his shirts tucked in, without a belt
He walks around naked in front of his mom
He’s a turbo-hottie, but his feet are gnarly
She says “Mecredi” instead of “Mercredi”
He’s not geeky enough (mine)
I’m starting university (mine)
She said something vulgar
She loves me too much
She smiles like Kermit
This other guy’s cuter
I love her too much
Her name is Suzie

Personally, I think that at the beginning of an attraction, you’re determining whether the chemistry is right, and chemistry is entirely whimsical and arbitrary. Nobody has to justify it. Thus, at that point it’s understandable if a stupid thing becomes a dealbreaker. Later on in a relationship, stupid things are still important, as they become indicators. I mean, if someone told me they’ve started hating the way their S.O. of five years licks stamps, I’d still take that seriously.

What’s the stupidest reason you’ve ever given/gotten?

So I’m reading through blogs today, and come across titles like “deadbeat lightspeedchick” and “It’s official: lightspeedchick is a skank“. Well don’t I feel all warm and fuzzy.

Brutopia has great beer and great food. Brutopia gives separate bills for said great beer and great food. Last night I paid my (beer) tab and left, unintentionally stiffing poor Dave and Paul with my nachos bill. I found this out along with potentially millions of others, reading their blogs.

Now, everyone does a dumbass thing like that once in a while. Why do I have to be the idiot who does it to people with blogs?

Sooooo sorry guys! Beer and nachos are on me next week.

And now if you’ll excuse me, I have just spotted a perfectly good rock to crawl under…

I committed hubris yesterday when I was gloating about getting what I want at work. I asked not to travel, I got it, no bad consequences. Then I bragged about it on the blog.

This angered the god of business travel. So this morning I found out that I’m being sent to civil war-torn Venezuela, in ten days. Venezuela means not coming back for the weekends to see my friends, parents and beau. Venezuela means no swing dancing. It means spending the weekend in a security compound.

It’s not being chained to a rock to be prey to a sea monster, but it’s divine retribution nonetheless.

My good friend Captain Dramatic just lost his job, bringing to five the number of my close friends who are currently unemployed. In his mail he talks about the great team he was a part of, and wonders why the potential couldn’t be better utilized. This feeling of wasted effort, wasted potential is all too familiar.

I once spent two years building an intranet for a little company of 250 people, developing content, designing the interface, finding new ways of automating internal processes using the Web. Then an American who’d never been to Montreal was hired to be director of the North American division, and decided the office should be in Silicon Valley. 210 of us Montrealers 250 were laid off, and the remainder were kept simply to tie up loose ends. All this expertise, gone. My intranet, two years of love and work, wiped into oblivion.

I realize those decisions (sometimes seemingly arbitrary) have to be made in order for a business to survive. However, they breed a workforce that eventually can take no interest in its work. It’s very hard to get enthusiastic about a new project, when you think that all it takes is the right neuron to fire in some pointy-haired suit’s head, for the whole thing, regardless of whether it makes sense or not, to disappear.

Freud said what we do in love and work (which lightspeeddad re-interprets as “sex and money”) has the greatest influence on our happiness. What would Freud say about society now?

This is hopefully temporary.

UPDATE: changed the commenting engine. Still tweaking the new one. Yes, I really do work.

A lot of you know how unhappy I’ve been with all the traveling my job has recently entailed. When I returned from my latest stint in Baltimore, ecstatic as always to get home, I was told I was going to Indianapolis before my coat was even off. That was too much for me, and I expressed it.

Caught off guard by my change in attitude, my boss basically agreed not to have me travel for a while, but had a lot of trouble hiding her displeasure with me, as well as her uncertainty as to what to do with me if I won’t travel. This left me in a bit of a professional limbo. All of a sudden being a trainer, though I love the job, didn’t seem like a viable option anymore because of the traveling required. I started thinking about what else I could do with myself.

Told my parents about this and they seemed a little irritated with my inability to accept the inconveniences that come with any job. They agreed that six weeks was difficult, but their take was that travel was part of my job, and I should just do it. You can’t expect everything to be perfect.

Anyway, yesterday the boss tells me not to worry about my professional future, she doesn’t want to lose me, and if that means not traveling anymore, she’ll find some teaching assignments in Montreal, or fly the learners here instead of flying me there. Absolutely everything I could ever have hoped to hear was said.

The best part of this is proving my parents wrong. Showing them that I DON’T have to settle for less.

However, to be honest, it’s made me wonder if I didn’t just luck out this time. This time, I followed my bliss, refused to simply accept what was asked of me, even though I had no idea what the consequences would be. It worked, the payoff is huge. But there undoubtedly are situations where compromise is the desirable option, where you simply have to be philosophical and take what fate deals. Otherwise, following your bliss at all times quickly translates into simply responding to every moment’s little impulse. My question is, how do you know which is which? When is it time to compromise, and when is it time to follow your immediate bliss?

I’m back in town. For good. I asked not to travel anymore, it created some trouble for me, but the dust has since settled. I’m here, and I’m going to have a beer in honor of Marc’s birthday at Hurley’s tonight.

Being able to say that is bliss.

UPDATE: oops, can’t make it. Anyone up for a beer tomorrow?

If there’s a goal that everyone remembers,
it was back in ol’ 72
We all squeezed the stick and we all pulled the trigger
And all I remember is sitting beside you
- The Tragically Hip, Fireworks

The best game around is starting up again…

Last year was exceptionally rich in awesome hockey moments. Koivu’s amazing comeback, the Canadiens finally breaking out of elimination rut, and I’ll never forget watching the men’s gold medal game, with the gang all piled up in my tiny living room, my dad ecstatically calling me every time we scored. Although it’s highly doubtful this year will even come close to last in terms of memories, I’m very excited.

The Canadiens’ record is perfect so far (5-2, 2-1, 5-4), so I haven’t had to go to confession yet. See, I share a condition with my fellow French Canadians whereby I become a sailor when I watch the habs lose. My ex used to call it “hockey tourette’s”.

Let the games begin…

(special greetings to Nicole and Deniece)

I’m going to a party tomorrow where I have to bring an exotic cocktail. I doubt anyone reads this blog anymore, but does anyone out there have a good recipe? Thanks!

This oughta get me into some weird search results…