My company has lost it.

I just wanted to take a moment to give each of you an insight into the kind of environment I work in. Since I came from a crappy corporate culture, then no corporate culture, I can imagine that you might think I'm exaggerating the awesome qualities of my new company. Not so, readers. My company really puts everything it has into its employees and community outreach efforts.

For example, we are in the midst of our annual United Way campaign. This year's theme is, somewhat inexplicably, sausage. Don't try to reason that one out, you'll just make your brain hurt. Anyway, to represent this year's United Way sausage theme, we got a mascot named Linc. He's a hot dog. On the day we began the campaign, a guy actually dressed up in a hot dog suit and presided over the sausage-themed sculpture contest.

This is only a little bizarre. What really put the whole thing over the edge was something I noticed last week.

Linc has a cubicle.

I mean, someone trussed up an empty cubicle with pictures of hot dogs, signed pictures of other mascots, and similar items to suggest that an anthropomorphic hot dog actually works for our insurance brokerage. They even put his damn name up in the fancy laser-cut letters that I had to wait weeks for.

It's a little bit scary, but mostly hugely entertaining.

Funundrum wants to know

Chris and I had pretty much settled on calling our upcoming Peruvian adventure "Cuzcotopia." I even reserved the blog address and everything.

Until now.

My trainer, who looks like French Connection-era Gene Hackman (pictured), and I were talking about upcoming appointments when he asked if I would be in at the end of December. No, I said, I was going on my trip.

"Oh yeah," he said. "You're going Perusin'."

Perusin' is almost a cooler name for the trip. Almost. I'm not sure. What do my readers think?

Funundrum recommends

Today Funundrum would like to recommend these sock monkey slippers. They are available at Target for the low, low price of $14.99. They are comfy and funny-looking without being cumbersome, and are an excellent choice for anyone on your Christmas shopping list who enjoys monkeys or slippers.

Mostly I am recommending them to let my mom know that I already have some, because they are exactly the sort of thing she would see and buy for me. Mom, I will pretend you bought these for me already. Thanks. You are awesome.


I would also recommend the spider pajama pants I'm wearing, but they were a Halloween-only deal at Old Navy.

Tryptophan: El sedativo de los dios

I'm just now recovering from my turkey-induced stupor, only to find that nothing is still happening around here. We had a lovely Thanksgiving -- check out Chris' blog for a couple pictures -- although it wasn't the same without my cousin Jon around to roll his eyes back in his head and declare "Mmm, tryptophan -- opiate of the gods." It was funny the first time he did it years ago, and it's still funny every time I think of it.

On a slightly unrelated topic, our trip to Peru (which shall be known as Cuzcotopia) looms near. With Thanksgiving out of the way, we have but four weeks to prepare. We've gotten our vaccinations for typhoid, tetanus, and hepatitis A, and I'm beginning to put together packing lists that include toilet paper and hand sanitizer, as well as shopping lists that include rain gear.

The funniest thing I find myself doing, though, is inventing situations in my head that would require well-understood Spanish, delivered frantically and emphatically. Every "Learn Spanish" CD we've gotten from the library fails to teach anything more than sentences that start with "Where is...?" and "I'd like to..." This gets boring quickly, so I started to come up with dialogues that might require me to know the words for "lightheaded" and "extreme blood loss."

This morning, apparently limb loss wasn't even enough to hold my attention, as I found myself daydreaming about being kidnapped and held for ransom by the few remaining guerilla members of the Shining Path. "Somos turistos de los Estados Unidos," I'd tearfully plead. "No sabemos nada del Sendero Luminoso porque somos estupidos y gordos." Emphasizing our extreme ignorance due to nationality and stupidity always seems to go over well with foreigners. Eventually, the little drama plays itself out with the guerillas giving us our freedom because we convince them that we know a guy who can get their leader on The Daily Show. "La publicidad es todo!" I'd shout, while shooing Chris towards the closest beat-up taxi that looks like it could whisk us back to Cuzco. "Recuerde, publicidad mala es todavia publicidad!"

If there's any Spanish speakers out there, I'd love to hear the correct translation of "Even bad publicity is still publicity." I don't know if it will actually come in handy, but I'd still like to surprise someone in Peru -- even if they're not holding me for ransom.

Oh, moisture. How I love you.

Today we had the HVAC man come to our house to install a humidifier. He was very nice and I like him very much on account of the fact that he's bringing us the gift of humidity, something sorely lacking in Colorado.

However, I must take exception to the fact that he used, in context, the phrase "Git-r-done."

Under my roof.

I feel somehow dirty and I've spent the better part of the day wondering how to counteract the low-class energy now hovering around the closet where my water heater lives. Perhaps I should light some candles and create a shrine from my Chambers British dictionary, Chicago Style Guide, and Emily Post's Etiquette.

Celebrity coworkers

Due to my faulty hearing and the somewhat garbled PA system at my company, the following high profile persons are apparently my coworkers:

1. Jayne Mansfield
2. Inigo Montoya

I really don't know what Inigo Montoya is doing at an insurance brokerage, but I'm mentally compiling a short list of people who look like they might have killed his father, so I can befriend him at the Christmas party.

It's almost here!

Several days ago, Chris and I ate at the only Carl's Jr. in town and realized that there's a cool specialty food store right next to it. This is an awesome store that's a little bit Trader Joe's, a little bit gourmet food store, and a whole lot of butcher/deli/dairy case awesomeness. The second best things I saw there were the butter turkey and butter Christmas tree -- little molded pieces of butter, about the same volume as a stick of butter, but shaped like a turkey or tree. Must have one this Thanksgiving.

The best thing I found, personally, was Hob Nobs. Hob Nobs are English oat cookies that are really oaty but sweet enough to be super tasty. They only had regular, not the ones with chocolate on one side. It was during my blissed-out description of chocolate Hob Nobs to Chris that I made a huge realization. I didn't want chocolate Hob Nobs (well, I did but I'm making a point here) -- I wanted Tim Tams.

Tim Tams, which originated in Australia, are better than anything you've ever had. Except maybe Oreos. Alone, they are really nothing more than chocolate-covered biscuits, but don't even bother unless you've got a cup of hot tea. The purpose of the tea is not to make you feel fancy and anglophilic, though if it does... you've got way too much time on your hands. No, the tea is there to facilitate the finest cookie-related ritual in the world (sorry, Oreo). The Tim Tam Slam is deftly performed by biting small bits off opposite corners of the rectangular cookie, then using said cookie as a straw to suck up the tea. As soon as the tea hits your mouth, you'd better pull the cookie out and bite off the other end, as it's busy disintegrating into individual molecules of pure joy.

I ordered some Tim Tams as soon as we got home -- they should be here today. I'm way more excited than I have any right to be.

Bad marketing idea of the day

You know Hostess Cupcakes? Sure you do. They're an American icon, are oh-so-tasty, and sustained a great many of us in the form of vending machine-provided meal replacements in college. (Some other time I'll tell you about the amazing bounty of food available at one of the universities I attended -- it was truly spectacular.)

The Hostess Cupcake has long had a little anthropomorphized mascot -- I think he used to be dressed up in a blue hat and a mustache and named Captain Cupcake. In recent decades, however, he's looked more like this:

I guess the decadent goodness of regular Hostess Cupcakes weren't good enough for some focus groups, so they came out with a yellow cake version that still has the trademark chocolate icing on top. Fine. No problem. The issue I have here is with the resulting mascot:

Now, maybe I'm just looking for stuff to complain about here, but what I see is a tasty little blackface cupcake. I just refuse to believe that Hostess made it through the entire marketing development phase of the Golden Cupcake without someone -- a PR lackey, a vice president, a lowly secretary -- pointing out that this little guy carries some fairly serious negative vibes.

Perhaps I'm the first.

If anyone from Hostess is reading this, you would be well advised to contact me about this so we can come to an amicable settlement to ensure that I don't take this to the forever-hungry gaping maw of the American media. CNN has a lot of hours to fill, if you know what I'm getting at, Hostess. You've been warned.

Man, it's like putting on cozy pajamas.

The imminent destruction of the human race has been postponed slightly by yesterday's election results. With the Democrats in charge of the House as well as the Senate, there is a chance that a few things will change around here. I mean, not that great a chance, because they're all still old white political guys, but a greater chance than there was this time last week.

All of that, plus Rumsfeld stepping down? Ladies and gentlemen, Christmas has come early to the great US and A*. Well, it's come for most of us, anyway. Stephen Colbert is none too happy. I took the liberty of transcribing his emotional breakdown from last night's Midterm Midtacular show because it made me giggle:

Tomorrow you're all going to wake up in a brave new world -- a world where the Constitution gets trampled by an army of terrorist clones, created in a stem cell research lab run by homosexual doctors who sterilize their instruments over burning American flags -- where tax-and-spend Democrats take all your hard earned money and use it to buy electric cars for National Public Radio, and teach evolution to illegal immigrants.

OH, AND EVERYBODY'S HIGH!!! WHOO!

Feels good to be a Donkey today, people. Even though I'm not a registered Dem, it works kind of like St. Patrick's Day. Today, everyone is a Democrat. Even you, Mr. President. And there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it.


*PS -- Funundrum highly recommends that my under-40 readership see the Borat movie. For my over-40s, consult me on an individual basis to determine whether this film would entertain you or simply cause you to become cranky and restless.

Funundrum wants to know

Does it seem weird to anyone else for there to be commercials for the WIC* program on a cable channel? A cable channel that is part of a cable package that costs money every month?

Yeah, I thought so too.



*For my international peeps: WIC is a government program that gives food stamps and other assistance to low-income mothers and their children.

Update: I just got this comment from my mom, who works at one of Orange County's welfare offices: "That makes about as much sense as taking a taxi to the welfare office." I do not have much confidence that she's joking.

Peruvian New Year's customs

Oh, Lonely Planet Thorn Tree, how I love you. The Thorn Tree is a message board where travelers from all over gather to ask and answer the real questions that come up while on the road -- on the TT, you can find out which tour guides will rip you off, whether camping is allowed on Easter Island, and even which intersections in Buenos Aires are too noisy for early-to-bed types (answer: most of them).

Someone posted a link to this site that talks about common New Year's traditions in Cuzco. Turns out that these people are seriously superstitious. Here are some of the things you might hear about us doing on December 31:

• Dress up an effigy in old clothes, and then burn it to bring about a fresh start.
  
• Buy and wear new clothes (or at least new underwear) in certain colors -- yellow for happiness and luck, red for love, and green for money.
  
• Carry a suitcase around the Plaza de Armas to ensure that you will travel in the coming year.
  
• Eat 12 grapes at midnight -- one for each coming month.
  
• Light candles or take a bath filled with flowers -- use the same colors as the underwear thing.
  
• At midnight, put beans in your pocket and wish for money.
  
• The potato trick -- get three potatoes. Leave one untouched, partially peel another, and fully peel the third. At midnight, put them under your couch and choose one without looking. Picking the one with the most skin means you'll get a lot of money.

The New Year's traditions in America look pretty freaking weak next to all that. I am definitely looking forward to New Year's Day, too. Dad tells me that if Peru is anything like Guatemala, the fireworks should make the city sound like it's under siege. Don't worry, we will be safe and sane. Light fuse and get away, and all that good stuff. At the very least, we will try not to stand directly in the path of any fireworks. Unless doing so will make us look very cool.

Cuzcotopia 2006 -- Serendipity Update

As November is finally upon us, it is time to begin planning in earnest for our trip to Peru. We booked the flights months ago, but since then there's really not been much to do except wait. At last, it's time to scramble for hepatitis shots, malaria pills, domestic flights from Lima to Cuzco, and hotel reservations for that first night in Lima.

Sometimes I think that planning the whole mess is just as much fun as the trip itself.

We were at the library today, returning some Spanish language instructional CDs, and we thought to check out a travel guide to El Salvador, because we have a 6 hour stopover there on the way down from Los Angeles and we're hoping to find something cool to see near the airport. As we browsed the travel aisle, a lady came to the same place and started looking at books on Brazil. I mentioned to Chris that there didn't appear to be anything available for El Salvador.

"Oh, are you going there?" The lady, who was Latina, turned around with her face all lit up. I told her our situation and she said that she has lots of family that lives in El Salvador, and that if we emailed her she could ask them for their opinions on things to see. We totally jumped on the chance and I just got done emailing her. Our adventure has begun already.

According to her business card, she is a coach for the Colorado Storm, a big youth soccer organization here. She was getting books on Brazil for her son, who is leaving on Tuesday to attend a monthlong soccer clinic there. Imagine learning the sport from the Brazilians. Amazing.

The Corporate Monkey Reports

Hey kids, Funundrum's been a bit slow during my first week of the new job, on account of shopping for new clothes, taking care of all the other household chores that I used to do during the day, and generally experiencing a bit of a brain meltdown by having periodic realizations that my free time is now mine.

The new job is great, and everything that a corporate environment should be. Everyone's so damn friendly, and genuinely glad to have me working there. It's like I'm... what's the word? Valued. That's it. After my last job, I had just about forgotten what that was like. Aside from the people, here' s a short and incomplete list of cool stuff about my new job:

A motorized desk that goes up and down with a little switch. I can work standing up if I start to get ass cramps.

Diet Dr Pepper in the vending machine.

A beautiful cubicle that's graced with tall frosted glass windows. I don't have to see the ugly tops of peoples' heads as they walk by.

My cube will eventually have my name on it. Not a plastic plaque, mind you, but black transfer letters on the frosted glass, in a kicky brushstroky font.

Free covered underground parking. Those of you who have worked in LA will appreciate the "free" part. Those of you who have ever worked where it snows will appreciate the "covered underground" part. My car is warm and dry when I leave work, every single day.

Ample recycling bins. Yay recycling!

Beer Fridays. Sure, it's one per person, but that's exactly one beer a week more than I've never gotten from any other employer.

Once a month "New Business" parties. Munchies and mingling -- why ask why?

More than one refrigerator and microwave per 100 people. If you have to ask me why this is such a big deal, you have obviously never had any of my past jobs.

All of this and more. Plus, on my first day, my boss took the whole department (all 6 of us) out to lunch at a nice restaurant next door. It's almost as though these people want me to enjoy working for their giant insurance brokerage. And you know what? I do.