Well, Isn't that Special?

I used to work with a woman named . . . let's call her Ashley, because that was her name and she worked my last nerve.

Anyway, we worked together at a "design firm," don't even get me started on that place. Our boss could have given The Devil Wears Prada's Miranda Priestly's thinly veiled Anna Wintour look sweet.

A (the boss) owned the firm so to some extent I figured, "It's her company . . . " and would often just brush off her "damn it, do it again" attitude. But, it did wear on me and after a while I got to feeling like I just couldn't get anything right.

Now though, I realize that A always knew exactly how she wanted the copy to read, and I never really had any sort of creative license. The big problem was that of all of my talents, mindreader was not one of them.

But this entry is not about A, it's about Ashley.

Anyway, Ashley was fresh out of college and in her first professional job as a designer. Except, designing for a business isn't quite the same as designing a class project. Most students in a university setting have at least a few weeks to develop a concept and execute it. In A's office we were often given a projects that had to be conceptualized and created, if we were lucky, in three days.

Ashley's first stumbling block was that she wasn't used to the pace. It is a shock, but most people would just deal with it. Work longer hours or take projects home (which we were allowed to do) to get the job done. But not our newest employee, Ashley preferred to complain.

I know I sucked at my job, but there were a few times when I did a damn good job on a writing project. So, I'd turn it over to Ashley to flow in the copy and she'd re-type it. Rather than just copy and paste what I had emailed her, she'd go through the trouble of typing it in, typing it in and not spell checking her work. Which, HELLO, made me look really bad because once copy was flowed in it would go directly to our boss.

I finally asked Ashley about it and she said, "Oh yeah, sometimes I do, do that." So, I asked her if that is what she wanted to do then could she at least spell check it. She said that it was no problem and that she'd start doing so. Except the next few projects that come through are again riddled with spelling errors. So, I get my hnds on one of them and ask her, "Did you spell check this?"

She replied, "Yes, absolutely."

To which I replied, "I find that hard to believe. I mean, I know spell check won't catch the difference between wear and where, but it would definitely catch that you mis-typed "the."

I was infuriated. Not because she'd made the mistake, but because she'd lied about it. Just flat out lied without having to because I wasn't her boss. It's not like telling me the truth would have gotten her into trouble. So, why lie about it.

After that, things swiftly went down hill.

She was miss Supa Christian, married to a youth pastor even, so she was completely a against using obscene language but, lying . . . totally okay apparently. Anyway, she didn't use words like ass, damn, shit or fuck, but was completely fine with calling our boss a whore when she'd piss her off.

Seriously? Fuck is off limits but calling someone a whore is okay?

Listen, I minored in Women's and Gender Studies and my feminist tendencies are always near the surface so I really didn't do well sitting by listening to her call another woman a whore. Don't get me wrong, I'm not opposed to someone saying, I'm such a make-up (insert your own noun to descrive your vise- mine is shoe) whore."

I understand that, that calling yourself a "----- whore" is in jest, and maybe that doesn't make any sense to you, but to turn around and call another woman a whore because you don't like her management style (or whatever) is just not acceptable to me.

So, I asked her one day, "Could you please not use the word whore?"

To which SHE responded, "Are you kidding me?"

Me, "No, I think it's really offensive."

She smirked and said, "Okay, fine. I find it really offensive when you say fuck. Can you stop saying that?"

Me, "Okay."

You should have seen her face!

She was so pissed because I didn't get into an argument with her about how I felt the two were fundamentally different in their intent. Fuck, to me, just isn't as loaded as whore is.

Christians and two-year olds, as soon as you engage them in an argument you have already lost.

The sad thing is, I think I could have been friends with her if she hadn't been such a contradictory christian. I believe in God so it's not like I'm sitting around in my atheist basket headed for hell. I know with every fiber of my being that there was a higher power pusing me through some of the tougher times in my life, and every day I am grateful for the many blessings in my life.

Now, why am I even taking the time to trash this girl if I haven't seen her in years?

I just found her blog.

I was checking out the blog of a colleague and . . . surprise, surprise her blog is linked to his.

What I don't believe in is playing the good youth pastor's wife on Sunday and then turn around on your blog and trash overweight people in bathing suits, nice old people in the Wal-Mart parking lot that compliment your baby or the teenage girl you saw inappropriately dressed at the pool (at least SHE was thin).

It's bitchy.

It's judgemental.

Maybe even downright . . . unchristian.